Valiant (18 page)

By the time I lit the last candle, Lord Verras had settled into one of the chairs. I couldn’t see his face, just his dark hair edged with candlelight. He kept staring at his hands, and he sat still, so very still. Something about him reminded me of Will that day in the street when the dog stole his food.

“They were good men,” said Lord Verras without looking up, “good rangers.”

“The best,” I agreed. I had seen it in their faces.

I looked around the room and saw a small table covered in books. I quickly cleared the surface and set it in front of him. A basin and pitcher sat in the far corner. I filled the basin, and set it before him, too.

“You need to wash your hands now.”

He nodded and moved to unbutton his cuffs and roll up his sleeves.

“Wait.”

He didn’t need more blood on his shirt. There had already been too much blood that day.

I reached for his hand and fumbled with the buttons. Once the cuff was loosened, I rolled it back over his forearm, aware of every time my fingers brushed his skin.

Then the other cuff. I could sense the rise and fall of his chest. I remembered how it had been when Mama died and
it seemed like breathing was the only thing I could do, and sometimes even that had been too much.

“There.” I gave the cuff a pat. When I glanced up, Lord Verras was watching me—looking at me like I was velvet.

I looked back, my fingers still on his cuff, and forgot to breathe.

Then he plunged his hands in the basin, the blood making dark clouds in the water. He worked quickly, no longer moving as if in a stupor. When he finished, he retrieved a towel. I used the opportunity to wash the blood off my hands.

“Why are you here, Saville?” His voice was emotionless.

I dried my hands, glad for the chance to think.

Then I set the towel down and told him the truth. “You helped me, so I helped you.”

I picked up the basin, shouldered aside the curtain to the privy, and poured the water down the hole. “And … you need an ally.”

He looked at me, incredulous, and laughed: a sharp, ugly sound. Then I saw his eyes and realized sometimes anger is the best armor. Sometimes, it’s the only armor.

Lord Verras flopped down into the chair. “You are a fine girl, but you have a dismal grasp of castle politics. Go. Pick a better ally.”

“That’s my choice to make.”
Fine girl, my foot
.

He shook his head.

I sat in the chair opposite him and made a show of settling in. “So. The duke has issued his ultimatum. What do we do now?”

He leaned forward. “
I
am going to make sure the duke doesn’t set a foot inside the gates of Reggen again. And I’m going to start by figuring out who he really is.”

“Good. Do you think he’s the duke who King Torren told you about?”

Lord Verras didn’t answer.

“I’m not going away, Lord Verras. I like this patchwork chair.”

I braced myself for one of his measuring looks. But Lord Verras was surprised—surprised I’d come, surprised I’d stayed—and, maybe, for a heartbeat, glad.

Then he laughed, though it did not sound so sharp this time. “Have your way, then. Yes. I think he’s the duke who Tor told me about.”

“Why is—”

“Why is the fourteenth of Temman special to him? I don’t know. Not yet.”

I didn’t mind that he interrupted me. I had news of my own. “I know what
Oma
means.”

That got Lord Verras’s attention. “How did you find out?”

“I asked the duke.”

“You
what
?”

“I had to know, so I followed him and asked.”

Lord Verras laughed again. “You asked, just like that?”

I didn’t care about the asking. I cared about what I’d discovered. “
Oma
means
mother
. Those scouts didn’t kill me because they worried what their mothers would think.”

Fury erased any hint of admiration he’d shown. “It didn’t keep the other giants from killing my men. Or your scouts. But then, maybe they had a different kind of mother.”

“I don’t know how to explain why the scouts were different, but it doesn’t mean you can just ignore them. They weren’t monsters!”

Maybe it was easy to be angry with him because I was already disappointed in myself. The scouts were dead because I’d tricked them. The rangers, too, because I hadn’t remembered how well the giants could hear. I rubbed my forehead with the heel of my hand. No. That wasn’t entirely true. The duke had a part in the deaths of all four. But it felt true, and that was almost as bad.

“What was the duke like when you talked to him?” asked Lord Verras.

I repeated the conversation, how he’d noticed my distaste for the word
champion
, how he’d gloated at the young giant’s struggle before he died. “I wanted to run, standing that close to him. I felt like he’d pounce any moment and laugh while he killed me. His eyes didn’t help, either.”

“His eyes?”

“He opens them so wide. And they’re different colors: one blue, one green. It adds to the effect, I think.”

“That is … interesting.”

“Why?”

“Think,” he said. “Why would eye color matter to the ‘Duke of the Western Steeps, Heir to the Ancient Emperor’s
Crown, Holder of the Eternal Heart’?”

“I don’t know anything about the Western Steeps or your emperor. Danavir was too far north, outside his rule. I only remember snatches of stories. Nothing
real
.”

“The emperor had eyes of different colors,” said Verras. “It was one of his most striking features.”

“But even if the duke is a distant heir of the emperor, he has no right to Reggen.”

“No,” said Lord Verras. “No sane man would base a claim to Reggen’s throne on something so small. That’s not the point. When I first heard of the duke, I thought his titles were just arrogance. But what if he actually believes it? What if he intends to reclaim all the emperor’s domain, starting with Reggen?”

“That’s ludicrous!”

“I never said he was sane, just that he isn’t playing a game. He believes the old empire is his inheritance, and he’s come to claim it.”

“All the cities and territories along the Kriva?” I asked. “Impossible.”

“He has an army of giants.”

The knock at Lord Verras’s door made us freeze.

Before he opened the door, Lord Verras turned to me, and I saw that, somehow, he had accepted me as an ally. “The duke is copying the emperor. If we use that to our advantage, we may find a way out of this.”

P
ergam stood at
the door. He was just as ugly and unpleasant as he’d been by the fountain.

“Leymonn wants you, Verras,” he said, then spat onto the carpet. “Fine thing for an assistant to the advisor to leave when a madman like the duke terrorizes the city.”

“I was tending to the rangers.” Lord Verras spoke carefully.

Pergam noticed me. “Wasn’t all you were
attending
to, I’d say. If you’re going to hide down here, find the champion for us.”

Lord Verras’s fingers tightened around the door handle. “Go.”

“But—”

“Go!”
Lord Verras slammed the door closed. “Leymonn has chosen a lieutenant worthy of him.” He glanced at me. “Don’t mind him.”

“I don’t.” Pergam wasn’t worth the spittle he’d left on the floor.

Lord Verras rolled his eyes. “I must go. Though I should have asked where Leymonn was before I sent Pergam away.…”

“And I should give Will his tunic.” I pulled it from my apron pocket and showed it to Lord Verras.

He looked up from the crest and half smiled at me. “An ear trumpet and … a chest that’s opening? The ear trumpet must be because he said he’d listen for you. But what does the chest between the lions represent?”

“You noticed?”

“My work is to watch, to make sure that King Eldin and the city are kept safe by seeing important things first. Yes, I noticed the chest.”

I refolded the tunic and tucked it in my pocket. “Will found a lock of my hair in a trunk. That’s how he discovered my secret.”

Lord Verras laughed. It was the most heartening sound I’d heard all day.

I held it to me as I scurried down the halls to find Will. I’d felt safe in Lord Verras’s room. But I’d witnessed too much blood and madness today to believe that Will was safe until I could see the truth for myself.

I was breathless by the time I stood outside his door. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and tried to hide the fear I felt. Then I knocked.

No one answered. After another knock, I opened the door.

Will wasn’t there. Only the empty bed, its linens rumpled and thrown back. The bedside table was covered in the little toys and tools that Lord Verras had promised. But no Will.

Something was wrong.

I dashed down the corridor, straining for any sign of him.
Let him be safe
.

The passage changed as I moved out of the servants’ halls, widening into a corridor with high ceilings and cut-stone walls. Golden evening sunlight filled the rooms I passed.

Will’s laugh rang out, and I followed it.

The moment I crossed the threshold, two guards barred my way, their hands on their swords. I lowered my gaze and dropped into a curtsy, my heart throwing itself against my ribs.

“Miss Gramton!” called Leymonn. “We didn’t expect the guards to fetch you from Lissa so soon.”

Lissa?
He dared call the princess
Lissa?
For a moment, I wanted to hide her as much as I longed to hide Will.

Will.

I rose from my curtsy, eyes taking in the room: an old nursery. Dolls, toys, wooden swords, play horses, and painted boats were all carefully arranged. There were even two wooden castles in the corner each armed with catapults.

Will sat in the center of the room, clutching a limp knight doll, his eyes wide as he looked up at me.

“Let her pass,” said King Eldin from his seat in the corner.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I whispered.

Will grinned at the young king and returned to his play. Only an idiot would think a boy of eight would smile so at an adult. Will was still acting the spy.

“We have been enjoying young Will’s lively antics, Miss Gramton.” Leymonn rested a heavy hand on the boy’s head.
Will scowled, but his eyes flicked toward me and he forced another grin.

“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him,” I managed, my voice brittle with fear.

Leymonn ruffled Will’s hair so roughly that his head jerked side to side. “The king brought him a toy.”

Will held up the rag doll knight and smiled widely. Too widely. He would have loved the castles, would have wanted to take apart the catapults just to see how they worked, but King Eldin had given him a silly doll.

And, all the while, Leymonn watched the boy like a hawk tracking its prey.

Time slowed around me. I tried to slow with it, to move so softly that the predator in the room would have no reason to attack.

“It’s a fine knight.” I knelt beside Will, glad the doll gave me an excuse to be near him. “May I hold it?”

“Here.” For a heartbeat, I remembered Will with the giants, a rag doll in their hands. I blinked the image away, but before I could take Will’s doll, Leymonn snatched it.

“Miss Gramton doesn’t have time to play, I’m afraid. The king needs her.”

I looked up at Leymonn and then the king, who perched uneasily in his chair near the castles. He waved a hand dismissively. “Tell her, Leymonn.”

I stood slowly. I didn’t look at Will, but I stayed beside him, hoping that would be enough to keep him safe.

“The city has grown restless after the duke’s visit this afternoon.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Will turn away and begin to move the doll in some sort of pantomime. I knew he was listening.

I waited for Leymonn to continue. The silence was worse than his slick voice. Then I saw his smirk and realized that he wanted me to ask what was needed.

I’d rather wait all day.

Leymonn glanced at Will.

“The city is restless?” I prompted.

He smirked as if he’d won a game. “Yes, the city needs to see their champion.”

“They don’t have a champion! You know that.”

Leymonn raised an eyebrow. “When I was a member of the castle guard, a man could be beaten for talking to his superior that way.”

“Even if it was the truth?”

“Especially if it was the truth.”

“I won’t give them false hope.” I looked at King Eldin, hoping he would say something. Do something. He turned away, staring at the wooden swords that hung on the wall.

Leymonn cleared his throat. “The king and I have already discussed this, Miss Gramton. He feels it is more a matter of giving the city time.”

Time. So he could find a way to escape
. I clenched my jaw against all I wanted to say.

“You owe your king whatever he asks of you.” Leymonn wasn’t smiling anymore.

I folded my arms.

He didn’t look away from me. “Guard!” he commanded. “The boy is tired. Remove him.”

One of the guards walked to the middle of the room and plucked Will up. Will yelped and dropped the knight doll.

“Careful with him!” I darted toward the guard, but Leymonn grabbed my arm and pulled me back. He smiled, baring his teeth. He’d found my soft spot, and we both knew it.

I’d never felt so powerless.

I looked at Will. He was breathing quickly, but his mouth was pressed tightly closed. He was determined not to show his fear, even with the guard’s arms wrapped around him.

I turned back to Leymonn. “The city will have their champion,” I whispered.

“What?” he asked. “I couldn’t hear you.”

“The city—”

“Don’t worry about me!” interrupted Will. “My foot doesn’t hurt so much now. The doctor put a special bandage on it.” He reached over the guard’s arm to knock on his foot. It sounded like he rapped against stone. “He says it’s better than the starched rags they normally use. He says—”

“Quiet, boy!” bellowed Leymonn.

Silence filled the room, the quiet after a thunderclap. Will blinked, but didn’t look anywhere near crying. I wanted to hug him.

And I wanted to belt Leymonn.