To Darkness Fled (52 page)

Vrell scowled but had no intention of arguing with Sir Gavin.

Achan held out his sword to Sir Eagan. "I return your sword with gratitude. It has served me well."

Sir Eagan blanched. "Oh, no, Your Highness. I do not have the strength to wield it. Please, use it well."

"But it's yours."

"And what of Owr?"

Achan frowned. "Esek has it."

Sir Eagan reached over his shoulder to scratch his back. "Then you must use Rhomphaia until you get Owr back."

Achan nodded. "Thank you." He strapped the jeweled belt around his waist. He seemed to stand taller whenever he wore it. "I had forgotten Owr should be mine."

"Oh, yes," Sir Eagan said. "Owr belongs to the anointed king of Er'Rets." He nudged Achan, approached the table where Sir Gavin sat, and winked at Vrell. "Gavin, you gave the prince my sword?"

Sir Gavin's mustache twitched, curling down at the ends. "You weren't using it."

"Because I was rotting away in an icy prison. What was wrong with
your
sword?"

"Nothing." Sir Gavin patted the weapon on his belt. "Which is why I didn't see reason to give it away."

"And you told him the sword was called
Eagan's Elk
?"

Sir Gavin shrugged. "He asked its name and I couldn't remember. I figured, if all went well, at least your name might be honored, defeating many in the hands of the king."

Sir Eagan cocked one eyebrow at Achan. "That good with a sword, is he?"

Achan shook his head. "No, sir. I'm not."

"But he is," Vrell said. "He killed a dozen Poroo protecting Esek."

Achan groaned. "Sparrow, I told you, Poroo are hardly swordsmen."

"That's like killing a dozen women, eh?" Kurtz yelled from the other room.

Vrell scowled. She could hear Kurtz cackling in the other room. As if women were incapable of protecting themselves. Well...most were quite helpless, actually. But not her.

Sir Eagan sobered. "That I might be known for having killed a dozen female Poroo..." He bowed deeply to Achan. "You do me great honor, Your Majesty." He bowed to Sir Gavin. "And you, Gavin. Now that I have been given a second chance at life, I shall try to live up to my heroic reputation."

How could Sir Eagan dare mock Achan's bravery? But she glanced at Achan and found him shaking with silent laughter.

Part 4

Traitors

30

Lord Livna, a sturdy, red-faced man with white hair and a trim beard, met Achan and his party at the entrance to Lytton Hall and threw an arm around Achan's shoulders.

"You're welcome here, my boy. Very welcome. Glorious news to hear that arrogant
vulgarian
is not our king. And what a stir out at Ice Island! Never been such an escape in the history of the prison. Over a dozen have come looking to join your cause. Aw, but you must be tired. I declare we shall have the finest celebration tonight. The finest. Keep in mind, now, I've got three nieces who'd each make a handsome queen. Quite so. I'm sure these old schemers have advised you to choose a lady of greater title. You just keep your eyes open and see if one of my nieces doesn't steal your heart, you hear?"

Achan opened his mouth to respond, but Lord Livna said, "Wish I could have offered you Tara, but she recently wed Lord Gershom."

Mention of Lady Tara rekindled Achan's frustration. "I had the pleasure of meeting Lord Gershom this past week."

Lord Livna's blue eyes peered into Achan's, concerned, fearful. "Was she well, do you think?"

Achan grit his teeth. He wanted to say, "As well as a young lady wed to a grandsire could be," but held his tongue. If the man had doubts over his daughter's marriage, he should have entertained them before the ceremony, not after.

Sir Caleb rescued him. "She was very well, my lord. And Master Demry was there, making sure she remains safe."

Lord Livna nodded. "So far out and with her husband's age, I felt better knowing a fighting man was looking after her." His eyes went wide, focused over Achan's shoulder. "Well, quiver my timbers, Eagan? Is that you, my boy?"

"It is, my lord."

Lord Livna greeted Sir Eagan with a hearty embrace. "Eric still claims you swindled him of Rhomphaia. Where is it now?"

Sir Eagan gestured to Achan. "The prince wears it until he can reclaim Owr."

"Aw," Lord Livna beamed, "a more worthy owner I could not supply. Come, let me show you to your room."

Lytton Hall looked to be the dwelling of a champion hunter. The walls were built of logs and sea stone, with antlers and hides mounted on every wall. Much of the furniture had antler arms or legs. Lord Livna whisked them up a wooden staircase to the fourth floor and a short, wide hallway. Three narrow doors on the right and a set of double doors on the left.

"This whole floor is yours. The double doors lead to the prince's room. He should have a hot bath waiting. You men can decide between you how to use these other rooms, and Eagan can show you to the steams."

Kurtz grabbed Sparrow's chin. "What say you, Pacey? A shave for the minnow? We'll help him grow a beard yet."

Achan grinned. "Perfect."

Sparrow jerked his chin away. "I am
not
shaving."

"But the first one helps the whiskers grow, eh?" Kurtz reached for Sparrow again, but he ducked behind Sir Gavin.

"Leave Vrell be," Sir Gavin said. "He must check my leg. Lord Livna, might it be possible to have a tub brought to my room as well? I wouldn't ask, but my leg is injured."

"Should you like, Gavin, I'll have one brought up."

The men parted ways. Sir Caleb accompanied Achan into his chambers. The room had a simple oak bed covered in gold blankets and a hewn sideboard. A plank changing screen hid a hearth and a deep, wooden bathtub.

Achan bathed, scrubbing the flea bites on his legs and arms until his skin stung. The scratchy sponge eased the itch.

Sir Caleb had set out the outfit Lord Eli had made in Mirrorstone. Achan put on the blue tunic, black doublet, and black trousers, grumbling over the ridiculously long embroidered sleeves and the silver garters on the trousers.

Though he loathed to admit it, he said, "I need help, Sir Caleb." He came out from behind the changing screen to find Sir Caleb asleep on the bed. Achan fiddled with the ties at the neck of the tunic and the garters, but couldn't manage to work Sir Caleb's magic, especially with such long sleeves in his way.

The door to his room cracked open, revealing Inko's mole-covered face. He slipped inside and closed the door. "I am coming from having been watching the sparrow."

Achan knotted his left garter. "Go on, then."

"Sir Gavin was taking the boy into his bedchamber. They were being in there a moment then Sir Gavin was coming right back out and was standing."

Achan looked up from his absurd garters. "Doing what?"

"He was just standing like a guard." Inko withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow. "Your Highness, you might be asking Lord Livna to be moving you to the third or fifth floors. Four is not the most favored num--"

Achan held up a hand. "Why do you suppose Sir Gavin stood outside the door?"

"I am not being able to guess, but when the door was opening again, the
bird
was flying out with wet hair."

Wet hair? Achan patted the man's shoulder. "Thank you, Inko. You're an amazing shadow informer. Keep it up."

Inko pointed at Achan's knees. "Are you wanting help to be tying those for you?"

Achan sighed and released the silver ties. "Please."

Inko crouched down, untied Achan's knot, and started over, looping the long strips of fabric into a tight bow. "So what are you thinking Vrell was doing?"

Achan scratched his temple. "Bathing, I suppose."

Inko stood and started in on the ties on Achan's shirt. "But why not be going to the steams like the rest of us?"

Achan didn't know. "Perhaps Sir Gavin wanted him dressed to match me?" But an hour later, that proved false. Achan sat on the edge of his bed while the rest of his party stood in his chamber, Sparrow wearing a black tunic with a grey linen vest.

Achan voiced his concerns aloud. "Why doesn't Sparrow wear his blue satin?"

"Because Vrell would rather be a healer than a squire." Sir Caleb said. "In a week or so, you'll have Shung as your Shield. You won't need a squire until we go to war. By then, I'm sure we'll find you another. Perhaps in Carmine."

Achan's stomach felt like it had been kicked. He frowned at Sparrow. "You don't want to be my squire?"

Sparrow cheeks flushed. "I am excellent with herbs and healing, but Arman has not called me to such violence."

"But you just need--"

"We
need
men called to both," Sir Caleb said. "I'm glad you know your heart, Vrell."

Sparrow smiled until he met Achan's eyes. Then he focused on his hands in his lap.

How could this be? Sparrow was deserting him?

"Don't feel obligated to dance tonight, Your Highness," Sir Caleb said. "We're here to recruit men, not inappropriate love interests, of which there will be plenty."

"I disagree," Sir Eagan said. "He must dance with every lady, for most have fathers who'll be pleased to see him pay their daughters mind and will support him because of it."

Sir Caleb sighed. "I suppose. But take care not to pay more attention to any one girl, Your Highness."

Achan's stomach flipped. No pressure there. "Wouldn't it be safer to skip the formality of a banquet and keep moving? I mean, since Esek is nearby, won't he come looking here?"

"We have voiced the same concern," Sir Gavin said. "But Lord Livna refuses to hear us. Tomorrow we'll meet with him and the captain of his guard to discuss when the army will assemble and depart for Carmine."

A tingling haze clouded Achan's mind as if this were all a dream. He could scarcely imagine that in two days' time, he'd lead a host of soldiers south with the intent of starting a war.

* * *

That evening, the guard stopped them before they could enter the great hall. "Wait to be announced."

To Achan's utter horror, a trumpet sounded and a herald cried out at the top of his lungs, "Make way for Prince Gidon Hadar and his royal Kingsguardsmen!"

The guard nodded and stepped aside.

Applause burst forth, bringing a chill over Achan's arms. "Gee, I wonder where that Achan fellow might be? No one will ever find him with
that
introduction."

Keep the sarcasm in your head, Your Highness,
Sir Caleb said.

Achan took a deep breath and entered. The great hall stretched out before him, long and narrow built of rough hewn logs. A three-tier chandelier made of deer antlers and lit with dozens of stubby white candles hung in the center of the hammer beam roof. Flags bearing Tsaftown's gold and black crest hung from every other beam.

Achan stood on the center of a narrow platform that stretched the width of the hall. A half-dozen steps descended from it. A golden runner covered the floor under his boots, spilled down the center of the stairs, and ran all the way to the dais platform. A black and gold checkered cloth covered the high table that was only half occupied. A dagfish carved from wood was mounted in the center of the wall behind the high table. Antlers were mounted on either side of the dagfish.

Tables stretching the length of the hall were packed with food and people dressed in expensive, courtly attire, who all stood staring. The applause died down.

Sir Caleb's finger in Achan's back sent him walking forward, dream-like, down the stairs and up the center aisle. He briefly opened his mind and sensed overwhelming excitement and support. He also sensed a hint of deceit. He stopped where the golden rug split around the length of the dais and ran up a small stairs at each end of the platform.

An unpleasant feeling grew in the pit of Achan's stomach. He scanned the hall, seeking for the source of the deceit.
Be ready,
Achan said to Sir Gavin.
I sense some trickery.