The Immortal Prince (14 page)

“Is that what you're claiming happened to Pellys? Someone chopped off his head?”

“That's what happens when you piss off another Tide Lord,” Cayal warned. “Some of us have absolutely no sense of humour.”

“Why did a Tide Lord decapitate Pellys?”

He stared at her with those piercing blue eyes that seemed to have a light of their own, even in the gloom of his cell. “Why should I bother telling you? You don't believe a word of this.”

“I'm actually more interested in whether or not
you
believe it.”

Cayal seemed genuinely surprised by her accusation. He stood up abruptly and walked back to the bars. “Do you think I'm faking insanity to avoid another execution?”

“I'm interested in how a man claiming to be a simple wainwright from Caelum knows enough about Glaeban law to understand that's an option open to him.”

Cayal frowned, obviously annoyed. “Let's get something straight, your
ladyship.
For one thing, I'm not claiming to be a wainwright; I'm claiming to be a Tide Lord. That I happen to know how to mend a wagon is not the point. I've been alive for eight thousand years; I know how to do a great many things. And for another, I probably know more about your laws than you do. I'm something of an expert when it comes to various Amyranthan legal systems. The Tides know I've been tried by enough of them.”

“You've been arrested before?”

“Torlenia put me on trial once. After the third Cataclysm. Of course, I didn't actually attend the trial—I was still getting over the Tide turning so quickly—but as I heard it, a rollicking good time was had by all. And they sentenced me to death, too, which is pretty stupid, given I'm immortal. I mean, look what happened when your people tried it.”

This man is really very, very good,
Arkady thought. It was no wonder the Caelish thought they could get away with using him this way.

“What did they charge you with?” she asked, playing along with him to see how far he was willing to go. The more he told her, the more chance she had of exposing his lies. The more complex his story, the more detail he provided, the more likely she would eventually trip him up. Nobody could lie that well.

“It was over a little incident that happened to the Great Inland Sea.”

Arkady frowned. She'd never heard of such a place. “Torlenia has no inland sea. It is an arid continent. Don't you mean the Great Inland
Desert
?”

“Well, it used to be a sea…you see…that's what the trial was about.”

“Are you telling me you turned a sea into a desert?” she enquired, making no attempt to hide her amusement.

“I'm glad you think it's funny,” Cayal sniffed. “At least I didn't make half a damn continent uninhabitable. Well, I suppose that's not strictly true…”

Arkady couldn't hide her smile. “And you performed this remarkable feat with magic, I suppose? Magic that comes from the Tide Star?”

“Naturally.”

“And where is this powerful magic that allows you to lay waste to entire continents now, O Immortal Prince?” she asked, rising to her feet.

“It's Low Tide.” He shrugged. “It'll come back eventually. It always does.”

“And then we can witness the full might of the Tide Lords for ourselves?”

Cayal's smile faded. “You might want to hope you're not around when that happens, lady,” he suggested. “The Tide's been out a long time. When it comes back next time, it's going to be a howler.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” she assured him, stowing her notebook in her satchel. She picked up her bag and glanced across at Warlock who had barely made a sound during the whole interview. “What about you, Warlock? Do you expect the Tide to return soon?”

“I can't tell.” The canine shrugged.

“Do you think Cayal is lying?”

He looked up at her with his big dark eyes and bared his teeth. “You should never trust a word a suzerain tells you, your grace. Even when he's telling the truth.”

“You know, come the next High Tide, gemang,” Cayal called across the corridor, “the first Crasii I'm going to have licking my arse will be you!” He turned to Arkady and added, “That's why we bred them, you know. We liked being grovelled to and nothing else we ever came up with grovelled better than the canines. That's why we bred them for house slaves. All that boundless enthusiasm…that pitiful need to please their masters…Tides, they were pathetic then and they don't appear to have improved much over the last six thousand years.”

This man is too convincing,
Arkady realised,
to be an amateur.

Arkady was guessing he was an actor or performer of some kind, recruited by the Caelish queen or one of her agents to wreak havoc in Glaeba. He was too good—and too good-looking—to have passed through Caelum or even other parts of Glaeba, unremarked.

She wasn't going to let him get the last word in, however. Pushing her chair aside, she shouldered her satchel and turned to face Cayal. “Odd, don't you think, your immortal highness, that your loyal Crasii here—the one bred to serve your kind so faithfully—doesn't seem in the least bit interested in grovelling to anyone, least of all you.”

“There's nothing wrong with old fleabag over there that can't be remedied with a horsewhip and a good strong collar,” Cayal replied. He eyed Arkady up and down quite deliberately and then added with a wink, “A remedy which, I suspect, might work just as effectively on you, my lady.”

Arkady had spent much of her adult life being leered at like that, but rarely did it bother her the way it did when this man looked at her. Defiantly, she lifted her chin. Cayal Lakesh was sadly mistaken if he thought he could intimidate her, or make her feel uncomfortable with nothing more than a seductive leer.

“Careful, Cayal,” she warned. “You're giving me ideas. I could decide to have you prove your immortality by chopping off one of your extremities, now I come to think of it, just so I can watch it grow back.” She looked down at his groin and added with a cold smile, “All that's left to decide really is which extremity to chop off.”

Before Cayal could respond to that, Arkady turned on her heel and headed down the corridor toward the guardroom and the stairs, thinking that if worse came to worst, she had her way to prove this man was lying.

How long will your story hold up, Cayal, the Immortal Prince,
she wondered, feeling a little smug,
if I bring out the butcher's knives?

Arkady smiled grimly as she descended the stairs to join the Warden for tea. Cayal probably wouldn't be nearly so arrogant, she suspected, with a cleaver poised over one of his hands.

After all, Arkady's father had been a physician and she'd acted as his assistant right up until he was arrested.

The Duchess of Lebec knew how to amputate a finger.

It was four days after his heroic dash to Herino that Stellan Desean returned to Lebec with the Crown Prince of Glaeba in tow, wondering why he'd allowed himself to be talked into such a potentially disastrous arrangement. Despite all Stellan's objections, somehow Mathu had managed to convince not only him, but the notoriously intransigent Karyl Deryon as well, that if he were allowed to study in Lebec, he would behave himself; that under Stellan's guidance, he would suddenly blossom into the studious and responsible young man that everyone hoped he would become.

They arrived after dark, the return journey having taken twice as long as Stellan's mad ride south because of the size of Mathu's retinue. Not that the young man insisted on anything extraordinary. Given a choice, Mathu would probably have saddled up his horse and ridden back with Stellan on his own, but Lord Deryon insisted that if the crown prince was going to Lebec, he was going to do it properly, and that meant Crasii slaves, servants, guards and a luggage wagon.

Impatience got the better of Mathu as the sun set over the Lower Oran near the village of Rindova, turning the lake into a sheet of molten gold. Almost as anxious as Mathu to be home, Stellan found himself agreeing to leave the remainder of their retinue behind while the two of them, with only the two-man escort Stellan had taken to Herino originally, went on ahead. As the silhouette of the palace came into view on the rise beyond the city, he halted their small troop and pointed to the palace, ignoring the misty rain.

“There it is,” he said. “Lebec Palace.”

“It's smaller than I remember,” Mathu remarked, shaking the raindrops from his oiled cloak.

“Things always seem bigger when you're a child. I remember being totally overwhelmed by the Herino Palace when I was small.”

“That's something I still haven't gotten over,” Mathu chuckled. “Have you ever noticed how the big columns out front look like bars if you squint at them?”

“I thought I was the only one who imagined that.”

Mathu's smile faded as he studied the palace on the horizon. Twilight was all but done, the sky rapidly losing colour as the little light remaining disappeared, the air chill with the rain and the loss of the Tide Star. Pinpoints of light were beginning to appear in the darkness, as the palace stirred for the evening meal. “Are you sure Arkady won't mind my coming?”

Stellan smiled. “No.”

The prince looked at him earnestly. “I'll try not to let you down, Stellan.”

“Don't let yourself down, Mathu,” he advised his young cousin. “That's more important.”

For once, Mathu didn't seem to have a glib answer at the ready. After a moment, Stellan gathered up his reins, and with the Crown Prince of Glaeba at his side, urged his mare forward toward home.

 

“Stellan!” Arkady exclaimed in surprise when he walked unannounced into the dining room. She smiled with genuine pleasure, always glad to see him. “Why didn't you send word you were coming home?”

“I would have beaten it,” he told her, walking the length of the table to kiss her cheek. “Besides, I wanted to surprise you. Good evening, Jaxyn,” he added with a nod across the table to his lover. The young man did nothing but incline his head in acknowledgement of the greeting, too practised at hiding their relationship to do anything that might give them away. Then Stellan turned to his niece. “And how's my girl this evening?”

“I'm very well, Uncle Stellan,” she assured him, as he kissed her cheek. “You're all wet, is it still raining? I swear, it hasn't let up for days. Not since Jaxyn took me punting on the lake the other day.”

“Then it must have stopped for a short while at least.” Stellan kissed her again, on the top of her head, and then turned toward the door. “I have a surprise for you.”

“For me?” Kylia asked, her eyes lighting up.

“For all of you,” he corrected. “Mathu!”

At his call, the crown prince stepped into the dining room and began walking the long length of the table to the other end where Arkady, Jaxyn and Kylia had been taking their evening meal.

Arkady jumped to her feet when she saw him. “Your royal highness!”

“Lady Desean. You're looking stunning as always.”

“What the…I mean…” She looked at Stellan for an explanation, clearly shocked. “I mean…This is an unexpected pleasure, your highness.”

“Very unexpected,” Jaxyn agreed as he rose to his feet, also giving Stellan a questioning look. Then he bowed to Mathu. “Your royal highness.”

“Lord Aranville,” Mathu replied with a short bow. “My cousin mentioned you were here in Lebec. He says you're his Kennel Master. Claims you have a true gift when it comes to handling the Crasii.” He addressed Jaxyn but the young prince's gaze was fixed on Kylia.

“His grace is too kind,” Jaxyn replied, giving Stellan a look that spoke volumes. Fortunately, Mathu had eyes only for Kylia, which was something Stellan hadn't anticipated. He still thought of Kylia as a child. He forgot sometimes that she was all but grown and certainly old enough to attract the attention of a young man like the prince.

“This must be your lovely niece?” Mathu exclaimed as he reached her chair. Kylia had remained seated, apparently not at all pleased by the new arrival. “You probably don't remember me, do you, my lady?”

Kylia nodded, scowling. “I remember you. You pushed me into the lake at the New Year's party in Herino when I was nine.”

“The correct way to address the crown prince is
your royal highness,
Kylia,” Arkady reminded her gently, as Jaxyn choked on his wine.

They all looked at him with concern, but he waved away any assistance.

“Truly, I'm fine,” Jaxyn gasped. “Just went down the wrong way.” He sat down, burying his face in his water glass.

Arkady turned back to Kylia, who seemed more amused than worried by Jaxyn's condition. “I'm sure his highness regrets any unfortunate misunderstanding that might have occurred when you were both children.”

“It's all right, your grace,” Mathu assured Arkady. “I was a little monster back then. Still am, if you listen to my cousin Reon.” He turned his attention back to Kylia. “Did I really push you into the Lower Oran, Lady Kylia?”

“Yes, your highness, you did.”

He took her hand and kissed it apologetically. “I don't recall doing such a dreadful thing, but if you say so, then it must be true. If I'd known you would grow up to be so charming, my lady, I might not have been so hasty to give you a dunking.”

“That will be quite enough of that, my lad,” Stellan warned, as Kylia smiled at the young prince in a manner just a little too alluring for Stellan's peace of mind.

Where had she learned to flirt like that?
Surely not at an establishment devoted to teaching young noblewomen the finer points of etiquette?
Perhaps, when the school proudly advertised that all their students made good marriages, it's because their students are being taught more than the classics,
he mused.

Stellan was beginning to regret leaving his orphaned niece in the care of others for so long. To his eternal shame, he'd not even recognised Kylia when she arrived at the palace and the more he got to know her, the less he understood about her. She'd gained a great deal of confidence at the school, however, as her chastisement of the prince proved. Kylia was nothing like the shy young girl he'd handed over to the care of a ladies' college when she was twelve.

With a stern look, he extracted Kylia's hand from Mathu's and then turned to his wife. “Could you arrange something to eat, Arkady? We decided to forgo dinner in favour of speed I'm afraid. I don't know about Mathu, but I'm starving.”

“I could eat a Crasii, I'm so hungry,” the prince agreed with a laugh, ignoring Stellan's warning and taking a seat next to Kylia, who was fluttering her eyelids at the young man.

“Then if you will excuse me, your highness,” Arkady begged graciously. “I'll see what I can arrange. Stellan? A moment?”

It needed no great leap of intuition to guess what Arkady wanted to talk to him about. With Jaxyn watching them curiously and Mathu oblivious to anything in the room other than Kylia, Stellan followed his wife out of the dining room and into the hall where she hailed Tassie and ordered the young canine to tell cook they had a royal visitor and to have more food sent up. She then headed along the corridor to his study, leaning against the door with a heavy sigh when she closed it behind them.

“What in the name of the Tides is Mathu Debree doing here?”

“He got himself into trouble again,” Stellan explained, turning to face her. “Karyl Deryon asked me to keep an eye on him.”

“I thought the king sent him to Venetia?”

Stellan shrugged. “You know what Reon's like. He had no hope of controlling Mathu.”

“So
you
volunteered?”

He shrugged helplessly. “I didn't really have much choice, Arkady. What was I supposed to do? Tell Mathu he couldn't come to Lebec because I didn't want him to learn the truth about me?”

“Then you must send Jaxyn away, Stellan,” Arkady advised. “First thing tomorrow.”

“Jaxyn won't be a problem,” he assured her, taking her gently by the shoulders. “He's very good at being discreet.”

She frowned, unconvinced. “I'm glad
you
think so.”

“Kylia has no idea…”

“Kylia is barely more than a child, Stellan. Your particular predicament doesn't exist in her world. She doesn't understand what she's seeing, even when it's right in front of her. Mathu is not nearly so innocent. One accidental look from Jaxyn across the dinner table could give you away.”

“I'll be careful, Arkady. I promise.”

“It's not you I'm worried about.”

“Jaxyn's as much at risk as I am, my dear. He won't betray us.”

His wife remained unconvinced. “The danger is too great, Stellan.”

He pulled her close and held her for a moment. “You're generous to worry so much for me.”

“I've allied myself with you, Stellan,” she said, hugging him briefly. Then she pulled away and looked up at him. “For better or worse. If you go down, I'll go down with you.” She kissed his cheek and stepped out of his embrace. “But I still think you should send Jaxyn away while Mathu's here.”

“I'll speak to him. But I don't think things are quite as drastic as they seem.”

“Then you're far more optimistic than I am.”

“Lord Deryon sends his regards, by the way,” he told her, wondering how he was going to broach a subject he considered much more problematic than the fear Jaxyn Aranville might inadvertently let on that he and Stellan were lovers. “And he asked…when we might be expecting an heir.”

Arkady raised her brow questioningly. “Isn't that rather up to you?”

He sighed. “I know. But it's not as easy as…perhaps we should…” Stellan wasn't sure what to say. He admired Arkady, loved her even, in his own way, but not once during six years of marriage had he ever desired her. He'd never desired any woman. The thought of making love to a woman physically repulsed him. One of the things that made Arkady such a rare treasure for a man like Stellan Desean was that she seemed to understand that.

Arkady took his hand and squeezed it encouragingly. “I appreciate your dilemma, Stellan, truly I do. But I can't fulfil my part of our agreement without your help.”

He hesitated, and then gave voice to the only other solution he could think of. “You could take a lover.”

The suggestion seemed to amuse her. She raised a brow at him. “Did you have anyone in mind?”

“Well, no…of course not…I was just thinking…”

“Suppose I chose someone you didn't like?”

“I rather think the point of the exercise would be what
you
like, wouldn't it?”

“That's not what I mean, Stellan. This has consequences beyond me having an affair. Could you really pass off another man's bastard as your own son? Could you love him like your own? Not watch him constantly, waiting for him to betray his ancestry? Could you stand up before King Enteny—your own cousin—and lie about who fathered your heir?”

“My whole life is a lie, Arkady,” he reminded her. “What's one more?”

Arkady wasn't so easily deterred, certainly not by maudlin self-pity. “And what of the child's father? Wouldn't he have the right to know he had a son? And if he did know—which I imagine any man who can count would be able to work out—how do you trust a man willing to sleep with another man's wife to keep the secret of your son's true paternity? And suppose I have a daughter? Do we choose another candidate and try again or do we go back for seconds?”

“You are far too analytical,” he complained, as she presented him reason after reason why this was a bad idea.

“Thank the Tides I am, Stellan,” she suggested. “Left to your own devices, you'd sink us all.”

“Will you give the idea some thought?”

“About taking a lover? Absolutely not. It's far too dangerous.”

“Then I guess we're back where we started…”

She studied him curiously for a moment, obviously sympathetic, but puzzled nonetheless by his reluctance, even for something as important as the continuation of his line. “Would it be
so
intolerable to touch a woman, Stellan? We could try again…With my back to you…if I made no sound, perhaps…if the lights were out…”

He shook his head. “I can't explain it, Arkady.”

“Then I'll think about it,” she promised, albeit reluctantly. “But I still think we should consider involving a third person as a last resort, not our first option.” She glanced at the clock on the mantel and turned for the door, smiling apologetically. “I should be checking on our crown prince's dinner. And you need to get out of those wet clothes. Can we talk about this later?”