The Fire Prince (The Cursed Kingdoms Trilogy Book 2) (39 page)

Kristof waved the parchment. “They signed their names to it.”

“In exchange for what?” Tomas said wryly.

“Gold.”

“And what else?” Tomas reached for the document. “I wouldn’t trust those men... ah, threat of death.”

Kristof shrugged. “Match the incentive to the man.”

Britta stepped closer to look at the parchment. “One of them signed with a handprint.”

“The first mate,” Kristof said. “Someone had broken his arm.”

Tomas gave a snort of laughter.

Kristof’s posture and expression shifted into something more serious. “Hoods up, ladies, and let’s shut the trunk again. You may have my quarters upstairs. They’re secure. I’ll bunk in with Tomas.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

P
RINCES
R
UTGAR AND
Lukas met their uncles in the morning, in the large, sunny parlor adjoining what had been Prince Kristof’s bedchamber. The boys were shy and a little overawed by the tall men who claimed kinship to them, but sweetmeats and a set of painted toy soldiers helped overcome their bashfulness. Prince Tomas proved to have a streak of the jester in him, and he soon had the children giggling.

Karel watched, trying to gain a measure of both men.

Prince Kristof, a few years older than his brother, was the quieter of the two. A man who watched, who thought. Prince Tomas was the one who acted, whether lying on the floor marshaling toy soldiers or doing whatever had earned him those wounds. Both liked to laugh—that was written on their faces—but they had the demeanor of soldiers. The uniforms they wore weren’t just for show.

The resemblance between the boys and their uncles was strong. It was more than fair coloring; it was in the shape of their faces, the set of their eyes. Karel hoped the resemblance went deeper than that, to character. If Rutgar and Lukas grew up in their grandfather’s court and were molded by Lundegaardan values, there was a good chance they’d become men worth serving.

“Is there any news of Harkeld?” Princess Brigitta asked.

Prince Kristof exchanged a glance with his brother. “I’ll let Tomas tell you what we know.”

Prince Tomas clambered to his feet and shifted the toy soldiers and sweetmeats to the sunshine by the window, where the boys would be out of earshot, and rejoined them.

Karel listened intently to his tale. When the princess heard her brother was a witch, she uttered a choked sound. “Oh, poor Harkeld,” she said, pressing her hands to her mouth.

Prince Tomas described the final battle with the Fithians. “Harkeld and the witches went on into Ankeny. They must be near the second anchor stone by now.”

“Poor Harkeld,” the princess said again. “To be a witch. He must be so upset!”

Prince Tomas looked uncomfortable. He nodded.

“Are the witches nice people? Are they kind to him?”

The prince blinked, as if the question surprised him. “Nice enough.” Karel heard the silent rider:
For witches
.

“I wish I could go to him.”

“But... he’s a witch.”

“He’s my brother! I’d like to help him.”

“You have helped him,” Prince Kristof said. “By not going with the Fithians.”

The princess nodded, but her expression didn’t change. Her anxiety for her half-brother was clear to see. Witch or not, she loved Prince Harkeld.

“And you too have a tale to tell, I believe,” Prince Kristof said. “Father says we owe our knowledge of the invasion to you.”

“Oh...” Princess Brigitta looked disconcerted. Beside her, on the settle, Yasma’s expression became alarmed. “He told you?”

“No one but us knows,” Prince Tomas assured her. “And Erik, of course. Our brother. Father swore us to secrecy.”

“There’s nothing much to tell,” the princess said. “I found the plans and copied them. And Yasma thought of a way to give them to your ambassador without anyone seeing.” She reached out and took Yasma’s hand.

“Lundegaard owes you both a great debt,” Prince Kristof said seriously. “We’d likely be under Osgaardan rule by now, if you hadn’t warned us. As we may yet be, if the Fithians catch Harkeld.”

“What news of the curse?” the princess asked.

“It’s halfway across Vaere,” Prince Kristof said. “And into eastern Sault. The situation in Vaere is... not good. The kingdom’s in chaos. The king refused to believe Ivek’s curse was real, claimed it was a plot by Sault to empty his kingdom, that as soon as everyone fled, Sault would invade. He started mobilizing for war—and then reports came in that it really
was
true. We had some observers in the Vaeran court. They say the king completely panicked. The royal family fled overnight. Left the kingdom to just... fall.

“Sault dismissed the reports too, at first. I mean, who
would
believe it?” Kristof shook his head. “But the king didn’t run when he realized what was really happening. Sault’s a mess, but it’s an organized mess. They’re evacuating as fast as they can. Ships are arriving here daily and there’s a lot of movement north into Roubos.

“Roubos...” Kristof shrugged, pulled a face. “King Salavert always has been a little... eccentric.”

“Nuts,” his brother said frankly. “Makes his decisions based on signs from the All-Mother. You know, how many grains of seed his pet bird eats, whether the rain falls in the east or the west. That sort of nonsense.”

“Salavert claims the All-Mother has told him Roubos will be spared,” Prince Kristof said. “He issued a proclamation telling his people to ignore the eastern ‘disturbance,’ that it will blow over. Our observers say most of the court are preparing to evacuate, even if the king isn’t.”

Prince Tomas snorted. “Salavert’ll probably be sitting in his garden counting raindrops on grass blades when the curse reaches Roubos.”

“Last we heard from Urel, they thought they’d be safe,” Kristof said. “Thought the curse wouldn’t reach the archipelago. But Dareus was certain it would. They’ll sail north if it does.”

“Dareus?” the princess asked.

“The leader of the witches. He was killed in Masse.”

“Gray hair?” Karel asked. “Short beard?”

“I never met him.” Kristof glanced at his brother.

“That was him,” Tomas said. “You saw him?”

Karel nodded. So did Princess Brigitta.

“We’re not expecting many refugees from Roubos,” Prince Kristof continued. “If I lived there, I’d sail north, across the equator. The Allied Kingdoms are safer than Lundegaard. Ivek never cursed
them
. And as for Ankeny... They’re waiting to see whether the curse reaches Roubos or not. Most of their population is in the north-west. They’ll have time to evacuate to the Allied Kingdoms if they have to.”

There was a moment of silence. Karel imagined Roubos and Urel and Ankeny emptying, thousands of people sailing north across the equator, flooding the Allied Kingdoms.

“This plan of Jaegar’s, to use Brigitta as bait to catch Harkeld...”

Karel glanced up, found Prince Kristof’s eyes on him.

“He wants to hold the Seven Kingdoms to ransom, doesn’t he? He won’t end the curse until we cede to him.”

“I believe so, highness.”

“He’s as bad as Esger!” Prince Tomas burst out.

Karel shook his head. “He’s worse. He’s smarter than Esger. More disciplined, crueler. If he gets Prince Harkeld’s hands and his blood...”

“He won’t,” Prince Kristof said grimly.

There was another moment of silence. Were the princes praying to the All-Mother?
He
was.

“Do the other kingdoms know about Harkeld and the witches?” Princess Brigitta asked.

Kristof and Tomas exchanged a glance. “There are rumors,” Kristof said.

“
Wild
rumors,” Tomas amended.

“But they haven’t been informed of the details of Harkeld’s quest. Father decided it was safer to say nothing. The fact that there are witches with Harkeld...” Kristof grimaced, shrugged. “No one knows how the other kingdoms will react. They might help, or... they might not. It’s even possible one of them might try to do what Osgaard is doing. A grab for power.”

“They don’t know about Harkeld at all?” The princess sounded shocked.

“They know he’s attempting to end the curse, but they don’t know precisely how,” Kristof said. “Or where he is, or with whom. It’s safer that way.”

“They don’t know he’s a witch?”

“No. No one knows that but us.”

The princess bit her lip, nodded. After a moment she asked, “How many refugees have reached here?”

“To date? Nearly four thousand.”

“Four
thousand?
” Karel said. “But that’s...”

“A logistical challenge? Yes.”

“What have you done with them?”

“Set up camps.” Prince Kristof rubbed his forehead, as if the thought of the refugees gave him a headache. “We’ll send them home once the curse is destroyed. If it’s destroyed. I pray every day that Harkeld will succeed. If he doesn’t...”

“Is it as bad as the tales say?” Princess Brigitta asked tentatively. “The Ivek Curse? Murder and... and cannibalism?”

“There’ve only been a couple of refugees arrive who actually saw cursed people. If you get close enough for that, mostly you die. But from what they’ve said... Yes, it’s as bad as the tales.” Kristof glanced at the little princes by the window, lowered his voice. “Brothers killing sisters, then violating the bodies, eating the flesh. Parents drinking their children’s blood and gnawing on their bones. It’s... madness. Insanity.”

“Harkeld has to stop it,” Prince Tomas said fiercely. “He
has
to.” The words seemed to echo in the air, an edge of desperation to them.

“How long before the curse reaches here?” Yasma asked in a frightened whisper. She was clutching the princess’s hand tightly.

Prince Kristof shook his head. “We don’t know.”

“Dareus said it was advancing across Vaere at about a league a day,” Tomas said. “He predicted it would move faster once it reached the first anchor stone. Which is in Sault.”

“All we know for certain is that the curse will infect all seven of the kingdoms before the year’s out. If Harkeld fails.” Prince Kristof made an effort to smile reassuringly at Princess Brigitta, at Yasma. “But he won’t fail.”

Karel heard the words he didn’t say:
He
mustn’t
fail
.

Lukas crowed with laughter.

They all looked towards the window. Both boys leaned over the toy soldiers, intent on their game. Sunlight gilded their hair, making it bright as gold.

“Highness...?” Karel said.

“
Sire
will do,” Prince Kristof said. “We’re less formal than Osgaard.”

Karel nodded. “Sire, when do you think the princess and her brothers can depart?”

“Father should arrive tomorrow. I imagine he’ll want to take Brigitta and the boys back to the castle as soon as he can. As for you and Yasma... I have some ideas, but I’d like to discuss them with my father. Something that rewards you fittingly, but keeps your secret safe.”

“We need no reward,” Yasma said.

Prince Kristof’s face relaxed into a genuine smile. “Lady, for your services to our family and to all Lundegaard, you
will
be rewarded. But I would like it to be something that matches your needs. A title would be of no use to you, though you deserve to be called Countess.”

Yasma blushed, and looked down at her lap.

“And you wouldn’t like a title either, I think,” Prince Kristof said, his gaze shifting to Karel. “Or a prominent holding.”

“Prominent, no.” Karel shook his head. “But a small farmstead somewhere, where no one will notice us.”

“A farmer? It can be done, if that’s what you wish. We’ll discuss it tomorrow.” The prince’s gaze shifted again, coming to rest on Karel’s sword belt. “I should like to see you fight, armsman. Do you care to cross swords?”

Karel touched his sword hilt. “Now? Is it safe? The princess and the boys—”

“This corridor is guarded by my most trusted armsmen. No one will get past them alive. If you’re worried about your face being seen, I can have the practice ground cleared.”