To Darkness Fled (61 page)

"--but I had thought we were friends."

"What happened to you was rotten, but it is all better now. You have nice clothes, handfuls of servants."

"And since I couldn't go back to Sitna, you became my
only
friend."

"People love you wherever you go. Women fall at your feet--"

"So forgive me if I'm a little upset that my
friend
not only lied to me--"

"--you are handsome and clever. You do not need me, or anyone else, to hold your hand."

"--but I can no longer spend time with my
friend
because it's improper."

"If you cannot comprehend why I refuse to marry a pig and be forced to bear him children, then you--"

"As a woman, you talk a lot. So forgive me,
Miss Sparrow
, but I liked you better a lad."

"--have a lot to--"

"Enough!" Sir Gavin stepped in between them. "These walls aren't thick enough to guard this conversation. If you two cannot speak peaceably, don't speak at all."

Sparrow folded her arms, turned her head, her nose tilted up, her eyes downcast.

Achan frowned. Sparrow's cheeks were pink from yelling. "You think I'm handsome?"

Sparrow rolled her eyes. "When you shave your face, comb your hair, and wear clean clothing. You do not think all these women throw themselves at you only because you are the prince?"

Actually, that's exactly what he'd thought. Either way, why should she care what other women-- He propped a hand on his hip and laughed. "Oh, I see. All this time, all the strange things you've said on my behalf. Jaira, Ressa, Yumikak, Lady Tara, Beska. You were jealous."

Sparrow shot him a withering look. "I see being prince has brought on a new level of arrogance."

"You deny it?"

"Absolutely."

"Ha." Achan grinned and scratched behind his ear. "No, no, it all makes perfect sense."

Blood flushed to Sparrow's round face. She stepped up to Achan, eyes narrowed. "You. Are an arrogant pig."

Sir Gavin seized Achan's upper arm and pulled him back a step. "I can see the only way to end this madness is to drag one of you out. Achan, let's go see about your chamber."

Achan allowed Sir Gavin to tow him to the door, watching Sparrow closely, smirking as her anger melted.

She sent one more wide-eyed plea. "You will not tell?"

He bowed low and dramatically, fighting to conceal his smile. "Your gender is safe with me,
Miss
Sparrow."

She strode up to Achan, stopping inches from him. She gripped his bicep in one hand and pressed her finger over his lips with the other. He straightened, tense, and exhaled as if her finger were a switch that controlled his breathing. He could only stare into her green eyes, befuddled.

Her finger trailed down his chin, tapped his chest once, then she grabbed his shirt and elbow, and pushed. He fell back. Her leg hooked perfectly behind his knee, sweeping his foot out from under him.

His body twisted as it fell. He hit the floor on his left side, cracking his elbow against the wood. A tremor shot up his arm.

Sparrow looked down, her lips pursed in a thin smile. "Do not call me
miss
."

* * *

Sir Eagan and Sir Caleb discovered several poisons in Achan's chambers. A tray of tarts, a bottle of wine, the water pitcher, even his bed sheets had been dusted in a powder ground from a deadly coral Sir Eagan called rosh. Lord Yarden insisted Achan move across the hall into new chambers, just to be safe.

This room was identical to his previous one, except that it looked out over the eastern side of the stronghold rather than the western side. Sparrow had moved into the servants' quarters on the northern end of Achan's room with Sir Gavin. Sir Caleb, Sir Eagan, Inko, and Kurtz were using the larger servants' quarters on the southern end. Shung would sleep on a pallet in Achan's room.

Now they occupied a small meeting room on the second floor. Everyone but Achan sat crowded around a rectangular table, going over--yet again--the evening's events, with exception of Sparrow's secret, of course.

Achan stood at the window, glaring at the torchlights on the curtain wall. He couldn't sit at the table, for he couldn't stop staring at Sparrow. And now the discussion had somehow turned into a lecture, one he felt he did not deserve. "But if controlling a man's mind is the only way to save someone, why is it wrong?"

"Because it's immoral," Sir Eagan said. "Arman didn't give you the gift to force a man's free will."

Achan spun to face Sir Eagan. "Yet it's okay to physically harm him? Bind him, lock him up. Even torture is allowed, but not controlling his mind? Making him stop hurting someone? Why would Arman give me the ability if he didn't want me to use it?"

Sir Gavin sighed out his nose. "Everything is permissible, but not everything is beneficial. Achan, I'll not tell you how to use your gifts, but I will always hold you accountable."

"Gifted men have gotten accustomed to this kind of control so that they do it without even realizing they are manipulating others," Sir Eagan said. "You might think, in exasperation, that your valet go jump off a cliff for advising you to wear fancy clothes, only to find that he has done just that, subconsciously unable to disobey your command. Few men have such bloodvoicing power, but it is plain that you do. Controlling others will not make you a better man."

"We worry for you, Your Highness," Sir Caleb said, "that you'll become addicted to this control without realizing it."

"He needs proper training by someone powerful enough and young enough to keep up with him," Sir Gavin said.

Achan lowered himself onto the wooden bench, which creaked under his weight.

My, what have we been eating, Your Highness?
Sparrow asked, instantly drawing his eyes to her face.

Achan closed his mind, startled he'd forgotten to keep his defenses up.

"Sorry," Sparrow said from across the table.

She wore her fake belly again and the effect confused Achan's thoughts. She so looked like a boy--yet he knew better now.
You startled me. I hadn't realized I'd left myself unprotected again. How do you remember to guard so well?

Sparrow shrugged, cheeks darkening so her complexion looked like marbled opal and rose. Achan forced his eyes and mind away from Sparrow's appearance. How was he to deal with her teasing now that he knew she was a woman?

"Why cannot you be teaching him,
Eagan
?"

"I am quite rusty, Inko. I suggest Duchess Amal."

"A logical suggestion," Sir Gavin said. "I'll ask her when we arrive. We'll leave in two days."

Achan's attention flitted back to the men. Who was asking who what?

"And what shall we do with Polk?" Sir Caleb asked.

"He cannot bloodvoice," Sir Eagan said. "It stands to reason he has a partner who can."

"Why? If he's Esek's man, or even a greedy man seeking a fat reward, he could be working alone, eh?" Kurtz said.

Sir Gavin sighed and stroked his beard braid. "Achan and I will question him."

* * *

Achan followed Sir Gavin to the dungeons, which smelled worse than any Achan had even seen. The moisture must add more mildew than usual. The guard led them into Polk's cell. Achan stood inside the doorway and folded his arms.

Sir Gavin approached the wall where Polk sat chained and nudged his leg with the toe of his boot. "Get up."

"I'm trying to sleep."

Achan had no desire to play this game. He'd been a prisoner himself several times and knew every prisoner justified their behavior somehow. Polk would be no different.

He sighed. "Going into his mind will be much faster."

"You only think so because you have never tried," Sir Gavin said. "What you don't understand is that truth cannot be taken from any man's mind. He must give it freely. If he is able to concentrate on other things, you can only read those thoughts, not the ones you want. There is no way to force his mind to remember something you have never experienced. He must allow it."

"Will you keep it down?" Polk said. "I thought I had my own cell."

Achan wanted to shove his fist through Polk's head. "Why do you help Esek? He was horrible to you."

"How'd you know?"

"Because I served as his squire longer than anyone should have to."

"I only left him four months ago. How long could you have served?"

Achan scratched his arm. "A few weeks. And that was too long. He's a madman."

Polk lowered his head and mumbled, "You wouldn't understand."

"Hmm. Let me guess. He has your mother, brother, sister, or lover locked away. If you don't do exactly what he asks..."

Polk met Achan's eyes.

"Esek is lying," Achan said. "He'll keep using you as long as you let him. And then he'll kill your loved one anyway."

Polk shook his head. "I have to try."

Achan supposed he'd have said the same. "Just tell me if there are any more of Esek's minions in my army."

Polk met Achan's gaze. "There's one, but I don't know who he is. He can do that mind thing, though, like you."

Achan straightened. His list would finally come in useful. "Thank you, Polk. That narrows it down quite a bit."

* * *

Achan spent the next three days watching the eight bloodvoicers, barely leaving his room. He'd nearly failed Sparrow, just as Bran had almost failed Gren. It would not happen again. He stared at Polk's name on the list circled in bleeding black ink. Why could he discover nothing of the second traitor? Had Polk sent him on a bootless errand?

When Achan entered the Great Hall for lunch, followed by Kurtz, his temporary shield while Shung was in the bathhouse, he overheard a servant tell another that the prince was ill and not to get too close.

Perhaps he
had
spent too much time in his chambers.

So many stared at him in the great hall he took his chicken leg outside, not bothering to take Kurtz away from his new, red-haired lady friend.

Kingsguards and servants roamed the bailey. Achan sighed, in the mood for brainless banter. If he found any of the knights, they'd only make him think about being a king. Except for Shung, who was taking a well-deserved break. Achan strolled across the south side of the bailey lawn and bit into his chicken leg, scanning the men for a familiar face. He spotted Sparrow, sitting alone by the moat, boots on the grass, bare feet in the water, staring up at the waterfall that spilled over the southern tower.

He snuck up behind her and steeled himself. Mindless banter? Or another fight? "You know the privies empty into the moat, don't you?" he said.

Sparrow didn't move a muscle. "Not in this castle. The privies empty into an underground stream that merges with the Betsar a ways down."

Achan fell onto his backside next to Sparrow and bit into his chicken leg. The wind blew a strand of her hair across her cheek. Her green eyes were fixed on the waterfall, reflecting the shifting water in miniature. Achan swallowed, heart pounding like Berland drummers. What in all Er'Rets was wrong with him? "I--I've missed you." Missed her? That didn't come out right. What happened to his plan for mindless banter?

Her eyes widened. "Missed
me
? Whatever for?"

He forced himself to look away and managed to gather his senses again. "Oh, I don't know. Everyone is so serious all the time. At least you jest."

"There has been little to jest about of late."

"Aye. For the longest time, I truly believed an older, wiser man would step in and be king and I'd be able to go off and build my cabin in the woods. Then suddenly--and I can hardly remember when--I just accepted it."

"That is good."

Her praise made his heart beat faster. "You think so?" He glanced back and her eyes threw off his composure again. He looked at the ground and scratched the back of his neck. Blasted fleas. "I must admit--though don't tell anyone or I'll have to beat you--I'm quite nervous."