The Fire Prince (The Cursed Kingdoms Trilogy Book 2) (16 page)

“The Boneyard,” Cora said. “A ship’s going to try to get close to the delta, Flin. With luck, the shapeshifters will be able to fly ashore, but we’ll probably have to ride to Krelinsk before we can rendezvous with the others.”

Harkeld looked at the map again, finding Krelinsk. It was almost on the border with Roubos.

Cora pointed to a blue line running north-south. “We should reach the Ptol tomorrow. It’s too wide to ford, but there’s a boat that takes travelers across.”

Petrus stirred. “The horses—”

“From what I understand, the boats take horses too. And wagons. Merchants use this route.”

Harkeld frowned, trying to visualize a riverboat that large.

“We have to go through the town. Gdelsk. It’s unavoidable.” Cora paused to let the words sink in. “Rand, tomorrow I’d like you to ride ahead and purchase some clothes for me and Katlen and Innis. Skirts. Flin was right; we don’t look like ordinary travelers.”

Rand nodded.

“Buy provisions for us. And ask about the other side of the river. If it’s like this, we’ll need grain for the horses. They’re losing condition. And take the assassins’ horses with you. If we need grain, they’ll do as packhorses. If we don’t, sell them.”

Rand nodded again.

Cora rolled up the map. “We need to be vigilant in Gdelsk. If people
are
watching for us, it’s the sort of place they’ll be.”

People. Harkeld pulled a face. By that, she meant assassins.

That evening, he took extra care sharpening his sword.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A
T MIDNIGHT,
K
AREL
went off duty. He took the princess’s note to the duty commander. The man scowled when he read it. “A grace day? With the coronation so close? Did you ask her for this?”

“No, sir.”

The duty commander read the note again and swore under his breath. “When was your last grace day, armsman?”

“Eight months ago, sir.”

“Eight months? Then you’re due one, but this week of all weeks! If she’d asked for
next
week...”

Karel felt himself tense. Was the request going to be refused?

The duty commander glowered at the royal seal. “Very well.” He tossed the note on his desk. “You can have the grace day—now get out of my office.”

“Yes, sir.”

Karel went to the mess hall. He took a plate of food and began eating, paying no attention to who he sat next to or what he was chewing. Duke Frankl’s visit and its consequences spun in his mind. If Jaegar doubted the princess’s sincerity, if he sent her with the Fithians before the coronation...

“D’you reckon he has the pox?”

“Then the blisters would be on his cock, not his face, wouldn’t they?”

“How d’you know they’re not on his cock? Had a close look at it, have you?”

Someone snorted with laughter. Karel glanced up. The men speaking were some of Jaegar’s personal armsmen.

“He has a blister on his hand, too,” one of them said, shoveling food into his mouth.

“He does?”

The armsman pointed at his right palm, his mouth full, chewing.

“I reckon it’s the pox,” someone said with relish.

Karel shut out the conversation. He looked down at his plate. If Jaegar doubted his sister’s sincerity, if he sent her with the Fithians before the coronation...

Then Princess Brigitta and Yasma and Torven and I will join the hunt for Prince Harkeld
.

Could they escape a boatful of Fithian assassins?

No.

Could they sabotage the hunt?

Perhaps.

Rutgar and Lukas would certainly die—unless Frankl intervened. Did Jaegar intend his half-sister to die too? Was she expendable?

A
FTER HE’D EATEN,
Karel headed for the barracks, deep in thought. Down a flight of stairs, along wide corridors where torches burned smokily in brackets. He turned a corner. Halfway along the corridor a handful of armsmen clustered. He heard laughter, a woman’s cry.

Karel halted in mid-stride.

They’d found a bondservant to rape.

His heart seemed to stop beating for a moment. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

“My turn,” one of the men said.

Karel turned and strode blindly back down the corridor, shoved open the door to the training arena, burst out into darkness and sleet. His heart hammered in his chest, almost bursting with each beat. He was panting as if he’d been running. An inarticulate cry of anguish rose in his throat, choking to get out.

He stood in the darkness, in the freezing sleet, struggling for control, but with each breath he inhaled his anguish grew. How could he not go back and save her? And yet, how could he?

His mother had once been that bondservant—raped—and if he broke his armsman’s oath, she would be again. And his sisters. And his aunts and cousins.

Shivering, sodden, Karel went back to the door. But he couldn’t make himself go through it. He sat on one of the long benches against the wall. There was a shuddering in his chest, in his breath.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry
. But it was too late.

The tears drained the anguish, leaving him numb with despair. He’d seen bondservants raped before and not been able to act. It would happen again. Hundreds of times, before his service was over.
Seventeen more years of this.
And at the end of that, he would have won full freedom for his family, the threat of bondservice forever erased.

He’d lasted five years of training, three years of service. He could last another seventeen.

Karel wiped his face. It would be worse once the princess and Yasma were gone. He was one of the best fighters in the palace, trained as a royal bodyguard. He’d go to Jaegar. And Jaegar was nothing like the princess. In his service, he would see the worst of Osgaard. Every day. For seventeen more years.

Karel squeezed his eyes shut.
Help me endure, All-Mother. Please.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

K
AREL TURNED INTO
the wing where the princess had her rooms. His footsteps echoed flatly as he passed gilded doors, plain doors. He came to a junction of corridors, three straight, one curving out of sight. He took the curving one.

His footsteps faltered as he rounded the bend. The corridor was lined with armsmen in scarlet and gold standing to attention.

Karel continued slowly, scanning the armsmen—Torven at the door to the princess’s suite, and six others. All wearing silver torques. Royal bodyguards. Jaegar’s men.

The Heir-Ascendant was visiting his sister.

This is not good.

He halted at the door. Torven glanced at him.

How long has he been here?
Karel wanted to ask. Instead, he silently took Torven’s place.

Torven’s footsteps died away. The fifth bell rang. Noon.

Karel’s ears caught the sound of movement behind the door. He stepped aside.

The Heir-Ascendant emerged.

Karel stood stiffly, staring directly ahead. He caught a glimpse of Jaegar’s face as the man passed in front of him. Below his right eye were three red blisters.

Jaegar strode down the corridor, his armsmen following. The clatter of hobnailed boots was momentarily loud. The Heir-Ascendant’s robes flared behind him, the fabric as much gold as black now. In five days’ time, they would be pure gold.

Karel entered the parlor and shut the door. Princess Brigitta was on her settle, her face wan and tear-stained. Yasma knelt at her feet.

Alarm tightened Karel’s chest. “What’s wrong?”

Both girls turned their heads. A smile lit the princess’s face. Yasma leapt to her feet. “Karel!”

“What happened?”

The princess stood and came towards him, her steps almost dancing. “Jaegar’s moving the boys to this wing. They’ll be right across the corridor!”

“What?” he said, blinking, trying to reorder his thoughts. “When?”

“Today.”

The tension in his chest slowly subsided. “I thought something terrible had happened. Your faces—”

“We thought you were Torven.”

Karel blew out a breath, blew out the last of his tension. “What happened? Tell me.”

The princess sat again, curling her feet under her. “I was just setting out to see Jaegar when he arrived. Frankl had been to see him. I’ve never seen him so furious!” She shivered. “I thought it was all over.”

“But it’s not?”

“No. I did what you told me to do. I cried all over him and begged his advice. And it worked. By the All-Mother’s grace.”

“You’re staying for the coronation?”

She nodded. “I showed him the packing Yasma has done. That pleased him.”

“And the boys? Why is he moving them?”

“Frankl pushed for it, and he
is
commander of the army. I think...” She frowned. “I think Jaegar moved against the boys too soon. I think he overstepped himself. He didn’t expect opposition, from Frankl or any of the nobles, and now he’s trying to mollify everyone until the coronation. It looks much more reasonable to have the boys confined up here, less like murder about to be done. And it keeps me amenable, too.” She pulled a face. “We’re all manipulating each other. Me. Jaegar. Frankl.”

Karel considered the implications of the boys’ move. They wouldn’t have to traverse half the palace to reach them, access to the bondservants’ corridors was closer, and there’d likely be fewer guards.

“I don’t think Frankl will last long. Jaegar’s voice, when he spoke of him...” Princess Brigitta shivered. “He’ll start his reign with bloodshed. Not just Rutgar and Lukas, but Frankl and anyone else who raised objections to the boys’ imprisonment.”

D
UKE
F
RANKL AND
his sister came to visit that afternoon. The princess greeted them warmly, shed a few tears, thanked the duke profusely. She sent Yasma to the palace kitchens for sweetmeats and Karel out into the corridor. He stood with his back to the door for an hour, with Frankl and Lady Agata’s armsmen, watching bondservants carry furniture into the storage room. He recognized the small gilded beds, the little table and chairs. They came from the princes’ nursery.

The officer in charge of the palace dungeons came to examine the room and departed again.

Duke Frankl and his sister emerged from the princess’s suite. Karel watched the duke from the corner of his eye. Frankl was a more subtle man than Duke Rikard, wooing the princess like this, rather than snatching her as Rikard had done.

Karel entered the parlor and closed the door. The princess stood in the centre of the room.

“What did Frankl want? He looked pleased.”

“Oh...” She pulled a face. “He thinks I’ve agreed to a betrothal.”