The Decoy Princess (22 page)

“They’re humming, aren’t they,” he said, making it a statement. “Your hands. Almost enough to hurt.”

My mouth opened, and I twisted my arm until he released me. The tingling in my palms swelled, tiny spikes exploding from my skin. I made fists of them, willing the sensation to go.

He took a breath to say something. Clearly changing his mind, he extended his hand toward me. I drew back, and he aggressively shifted closer. I spun away, lurching to get to my feet, and was pulled back to my knees when he gripped my shoulder. “Let me go!” I shouted.

“Sit,” he demanded, jerking me back onto my blanket.

A cry escaped me. In that instant Jeck frightened me as no one ever had before. He knew I wasn’t a princess and held no respect that I once had been. I was a beggar, to be treated as such. He could hurt me without even trying—and he didn’t care if he did. Panicked, I froze in fear as he gripped my upper arm. My heart pounded, and I shirked back as he hesitantly, almost reverently, reached out and touched my jawline.

My lips parted and my shoulders eased at the tingling sensation where his fingers rested. I met his eyes, seeing flecks of gold hidden within the deep brown. In his touch was the heat of the sun, soothing.

His hand dropped, and I reached to feel my face in wonder. I looked at my hands, then his, knowing he had felt that same warmth coming from my fingers.

“It’s the venom,” he said. “I dosed you up beyond your usual levels. Even so, I’ve never heard of anyone beside me who could…” He drawled to a stop. Eyebrows raised, he confidently waited for me to ask the expected question.

I swallowed, afraid at how well he was manipulating me. “Could what?” I whispered.

He picked up the tin I had dropped. Picking out a flake of bark, he recapped it. “Agree to leave Kavenlow and be my apprentice, and I’ll tell you.”

My breath came in a knowing sound. “You are chull bait, Captain,” I said, frightened.

His face gave me no clue as to what he was thinking. Breaking our gaze, he took his water and tin of paste and returned to his side of the fire. Silent, he pulled a clean shirt from his saddlebag and put it on.

Ignoring me, he sat on his log and took up his tea.

I settled myself uneasily on the blanket. The tingling of my hands had retreated to a dull throb, and I tried to wipe the stink of garlic off on the hem of my dress. Strong and heady, the scent of Jeck’s cloak assailed me, thoughts of his smooth skin flashing unbidden into my mind. Eying him over the fire, I promised myself I’d stay awake, but my full stomach and the warmth of Jeck’s cloak put me asleep faster than if I had been lost in my sheets and pillows safe at home.

Fifteen

It was the birds that woke me up, Screeching and squawking as if only they could convince the sun to rise. They were unusually noisy, and I stretched my feet downward in search of my bottle of hot water.

My toes poked from under the covers to find the icy morning instead of a warm spot. Jerking my feet back, I remembered where I was and that my pillow hadn’t slipped to the floor but was missing entirely.

Chu
, I thought, keeping my eyes closed as I listened for any movement from Jeck.

The sun wasn’t up yet, I decided as I slit my eyelids and found only a faint brightness. I had woken on three occasions during the night. Each time I’d found Jeck awake—not watching me but alert. Once, he had scratched out a grid for thieves and kings, populating it with finger-sized pieces of black and white.

Now, though, when I rolled my head to see him, I found him sitting before a neglect-extinguished fire with his chin slumped to his chest.

My pulse hammered. I slowly brought my knees to my chin, moving my hands down to my ankles. If I could worry the knots loose, I could slip away, barefoot or not.

“Get your hands from your feet, or I will lop them off,” Jeck said, his head unmoving.

“Lop what off?” I asked sourly as I sat up. “My hands or my feet?”

Jeck’s head rose. “Care to find out?” he said irately. “Get up. We’re leaving.”

“What? Now?” I complained. “The sun isn’t up. I haven’t had my breakfast.”

A sigh shifted his shoulders. He slowly rose, stretching. As he collapsed in on himself, he unexpectedly snatched his cloak off me. Gasping, I clutched at my cloak still wrapped around me.

“Aren’t you a basket of sunshine in the morning?” he said as he draped it over his shoulders. “Show me your feet.”

Feeling shrewish, I poked my toes out from behind my cloak. My feet were nigh frozen.

“Farther…” he demanded, “and put your hands in your lap.”

I sullenly pulled my palms from where I had braced them on the dirt to give myself leverage should he come close enough for me to kick. Only when I was unbalanced did he lean over my feet. “You were a good girl,” he said, satisfied.

“I could have gotten away,” I boasted, “but it was too cold. Can I have my boots back?”

Jeck grunted. Before I could take a breath, he flipped his knife from somewhere, darted forward, cut the rope between my feet, and leaned back. He stood still, as if he hadn’t moved. His knife was gone.

The blood drained from my face at how fast it had been.

“If you have to do anything, do it now,” he said. “I won’t stop until we reach the palace.”

I shivered, shocked by how easily he could have cut my throat instead of my bonds.

“No farther away than that, Princess,” he warned, pointing as he brought Tuck closer to make him ready for travel.

My head bobbed loosely. Worried, I took care of my morning ritual as best I could, horribly glad women wore dresses. As Jeck finished readying the horses, I alternately picked at the leaves in my hair and the rings of rope about my ankles. The knots were too tight, and I could do nothing with them. It was humiliating. A frown pinched my brow when I realized Jeck had put my saddle on his horse. Men were thieves, all of them. Feeling sour and unpleasant, I glanced over the camp, my gaze landing on the game of thieves and kings he’d scratched out.

My heart seemed to stop. It was the game I had been playing with my father.

Misery closed my throat as I saw the layout wasn’t quite right. “I didn’t take the pawn,” I whispered in grief. “I took the knight.” Jeck looked up from folding his blanket in confusion. “The game,” I said, my voice high. “I’m the white side. And I took the knight before Garrett—” I caught my breath and held it.

Angels save me, they were dead
.

Jeck glanced from me to the game and back again. “That puts your thief in danger.”

“I know.” It was almost a sob. Standing with my thin cloak clenched tight about me, I watched him crouch to adjust the pieces. He then moved his king to threaten my thief. I stared at him, my mind swirling with a sickening slurry of emotion. “Just let me go,” I warbled. “My parents are dead. Kavenlow used me. There’s nothing left—”

“Tell it to Prince Garrett.” Face tight, he swept the pieces up into his palm and dropped them into a saddlebag. It was the last of the camp. Jaw clenched in what looked like anger, he cinched Tuck’s riding pad so tight that the flighty gray tossed his head and squealed.

“I’m going to pick you up and put you on him,” Jeck said as he came forward. He was so much taller than I was, and I stared up at him, numb. “If you kick me, I’ll break your toes. If you hit me, I’m going to drop you. Put out your hands so I can tie them.”

I was too miserable to move. With a jerky quickness, Jeck snatched my hands and wrapped a cord about my wrists. Garrett had killed my parents. He was going to kill Kavenlow. I would be dead when Garrett grew tired of me. I should have run. I should have listened to Duncan.

I gasped when Jeck’s gloved hands went around me and he picked me up. Tuck snorted as I landed gently on him, my feet to either side of the tall gray. The horse danced, and I almost fell. Jeck shoved me upright, and his rough touch sparked my anger, cutting cleanly through my grief.

I might be a beggar’s child, I might have lost my kingdom to a woman I’d never seen and then to Garrett, I might have been betrayed by the man I thought of as a second father, but I would sling nets and shovel chu from the careen pits before I accepted being treated like this. My face burned as Jeck brusquely tugged my cloak out from under me so it lay right. “I need my hands to hold on,” I said, forcing a half cry into my voice though I was seething.

“You’ll hold on as you are, or you’ll ride the entire way on my lap,” he said calmly. My eyes darted over everything, and I weighed my chances to escape as he knotted Tuck’s bridle to the black gelding.

After a final check on the extinguished fire, Jeck untied his horse and led us to the trail. I balanced easily, ducking the low branches.

Frustration kept me silent. My fingers twined in Tuck’s mane in a white-knuckled grip. I could not let Jeck take me back to the palace. Stomach clenching, I assessed what I had to work with as we edged down onto the sunken trail and Jeck swung onto his horse.

I had no boots. My wrists were bound. I’d have to escape by horse, and mine was tied to Jeck’s.

My shoulders were tight with tension as we shifted from a walk into a smooth canter. I licked my lips, glancing at Jeck riding beside and a little before me.

I had to get him off his horse. It was all I had; the rest would come as I needed it.

“Captain!” I cried out as I let myself slip. “Jeck!” I shrieked, clenching my eyes shut as I fell. I let go of Tuck’s mane lest I get dragged under him. I hit the ground in a painful thump, my shoulder taking most of the hurt. A stick bit into my thigh, and I snatched it, tangling it into my hair. It was only the length of my finger, but it would be enough.

Tuck danced aside, not liking his rider falling off. Jeck’s gelding, too, was spooked, and it took a moment for Jeck to calm him before he could turn him around and dismount.

The fall had shaken me, and my confusion wasn’t entirely faked as he grasped my shoulder. “That was a foolish thing to do,” he said roughly. “Don’t do it again.”

I hid my disgust that his knife was on his saddle and out of my reach. He had put his hat and its darts on the saddle as well. “I hurt my hands,” I said, allowing my eyes to fill as I held them out to show him. “I can’t hold on if they are tied.”

Jeck pulled me up, and I wobbled until I found my balance. With an excessive force, he put me back on Tuck. “I’m not going to free your hands,” he said, squinting up at me from under his hat, his jaw tight and his shoulders tense. “Do that again, and you’ll ride with me.”

I nodded, making my face sullen to hide my excitement. I was on the trail. I was on a horse pointed away from the palace. And in this splinter of time—Jeck wasn’t.

He turned his back on me. As he reached for his hat, I tore the stick from my hair and jammed it into Tuck’s hindquarters.

“Heyah!” I shouted. The flighty horse squealed, bolting into a run. Gasping, I clutched his mane and crouched low. Jeck’s horse was tied to us and had no choice but to follow. Jeck’s tenuous grip was torn away. The horses and I fled. Surrounded by trees, there was only one way to go. I didn’t need to do anything but hang on.

“Tess!” Jeck shouted. “Damn you, woman!”

I grinned, encouraging Tuck with wild, hissed words. I was free and running.

The wind in my hair had never felt so glorious. The aches from my night on the ground melted into victory. The thudding of eight hooves pounded into me, making me wish I could go on forever.

But horses are stupid beasts, more inclined to fill their belly than run from a pain they quickly forget.

Tuck began to slow, and judging I was far enough away to get out of my bindings, I sat up, murmuring until he came to a jolting, arched-necked stop. Jeck’s horse obediently halted since they were still tied together. As they vied for the same spot of green, I looked behind me. Jeck was rapidly closing the distance, pounding down the path.

I stretched for Jeck’s knife tucked into the saddle. Fingers bent awkwardly, I tugged and sawed.

Finally the cord parted. Heart pounding, I looked to see Jeck scooping up his fallen hat. I could almost make out what he was saying, hollering at the top of his voice. The black horse watched him with pricked ears. Jeck should have stuck to his own tired mount instead of stealing a rested one who didn’t know him.

I put the knife away. My pulse hammered and I slipped from Tuck. Ignoring the twinge in my ankle, I quickly made friends with the black gelding. As Jeck yelled at me, I swung myself onto my saddle and arranged my filthy dress. “What am I going to call you?” I said as I patted the gelding’s neck. I glanced behind me to Jeck. Unable to resist, I pulled the black up into a squealing, two-footed half turn. “I’m not a thief!” I called merrily as his front feet thudded down and he pranced. “I’m using my means to their fullest potential!”

Leaning forward, I screamed into the black horse’s ear. He surged forward, willingly charging ahead with a reckless abandon until our pace was neither safe nor stoppable. Tuck thundered alongside, urging the black into a faster pace.

Jeck will never catch me now
, I thought in satisfaction. I would go to Saltwood. I would find Kavenlow. He would explain to me why he had taken a beggar’s child and made her into a player. And then he would tell me just what the devil a player was.

Sixteen

The stableman watched me as I counted the money he had put into my hand. It was obvious by his glances into the yard where Tuck and the black gelding stood blowing at the smell of grain that he thought it suspicious I had them. I didn’t care as long as he bought the saddle. A part of me regretted selling it, but I needed money for passage across the bay.

Satisfied the coinage was correct, I wrapped the money in a cloth and tucked it away. The relief I felt surprised me. Money had never been important until I didn’t have any. “Thank you,” I said, trying to sound as coarse as my dress and hair were. Five days in the wilds with little water had left me so filthy I could hardly stand myself.

He grunted in acknowledgment as he took my saddle and moved it to the tack rack. “We don’t see much leatherwork from the capital,” he said. “Leastwise not for
sale
.” He hit the word hard, as if expecting me to confess it wasn’t mine.