The prince rushed to pull his boots back on. “Stay put!” he growled, jabbing his finger at Kaisik, then turning back to the servant he ordered, “Take me to your mistress!”
The servant led the way through a series of darkened back corridors into the part of the castle frequented only by the staff. Muttering about “the end times” and wringing his hands, he kept glancing over his shoulder as if to assure himself Raidan still followed.
The two men rushed through the castle’s cavernous kitchen, lit only by the crimson glow of banked fires, and came to a hallway lined with wooden doors, most of them thrown open to reveal plain, serviceable furniture. At the far end, a whispering, weeping clutch of castle folk clogged one of the doorways.
“Step aside!” cried Raidan’s guide. “Step aside for his Highness!” The servants melted against the walls, their heads bowed. The air thrummed with their fright. Raidan stepped into the room, and Odata greeted him with a curse and a question.
“Goddess’ tits! What are we going to do now?”
A Prince No More
This is not good, not good at all,” muttered Sen Sakehera. He paced the length of Odata’s small study in quick, jerky strides. “You’re the physician, Raidan. Is there anything we can do to stop this from spreading?”
“Yes, but it’ll make defending Tono nearly impossible,” the prince replied. “We’d have to seal up the castle.”
In total, three castle dwellers had already fallen ill: a housemaid, a kitchen drudge, and the guardsman Raidan had been called out to examine.
“What if we isolate the sick and anyone who came in contact with them?” Odata suggested.
Raidan nodded, impressed with the lady’s grasp of the basic scientific principle of quarantine. “Yes, that would be ideal, but there’s no way to know how many people may have been exposed, since we still don’t know exactly how this disease is spread. It would mean losing most of your kitchen staff and at least half of the castle guard. No, it’s just not practical.”
“What if all the lords and their staffs move out and set up camp outside the walls,” Sen said. “That way, at least, we’ll lessen the risk to the most vital among us.”
“I agree,” Raidan replied. “The castle guard will stay inside, of course, as will most of your serving staff, Odata. The only persons allowed to go in and out will be us three.”
“Then let’s get started,” Sen said.
***
The evacuation of the castle proceeded without any problems. The large tent Raidan shared with Raidu and Kaisik became the new command center.
After he had settled in, the prince’s first order of business was to survey all the captains about any unusual sickness they may have observed among their units. Fortunately, none had anything out of the ordinary to report, but this did little to ease Raidan’s mind. The exact nature of the contagion remained a mystery; despite the many hours the prince had spent trying to unlock its secrets, he found himself no closer to understanding when and why the plague would strike. He had to assume the entire army stood at risk, even though, so far, no soldier had actually fallen ill.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, submerging the valley in muggy darkness, small groups of scouts assigned to the high ridges moved out of camp, winding their way across empty fields that should have been sown weeks ago. Even if the elves prevailed, hunger would stalk the land like a gaunt specter, for there would be no harvest come summer’s end.
In the royal pavilion, Raidan, Sen, young Kaisik, and Sen’s son Sadaiyo sat down to a cold dinner of roasted duck and apples. Several of the prince’s aides had also been invited, including Mai Nohe. The day had been long and hot, and all were weary, none more so than the prince himself. So many tasks remained to be done. One last war council had be convened and all the lords given their final orders; a fresh source of fodder for the army’s horses had to be found; there were dispatches to be written and sent back to Sendai—Raidan feared he would never sleep again.
“I’ve made my choice of who is to command the diversionary force at the pass,” the prince announced after everyone had filled their plates. He turned to look at Sen.
“It has to be you, old friend,” the prince said. “Only you have the necessary experience and instinct to pull this off convincingly. The Soldarans must believe the ruse and follow you into the valley. Otherwise, our entire plan will fail.”
Sen took a gulp of wine, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and glanced at his son. “We’ll make sure the Soldarans run straight into our trap like rabbits to the snare.”
Sadaiyo Sakehera’s eyes gleamed and a tiny smile curled his lips.
“Our scouts have started for the ridges, Highness,” Mai Nohe reported. “They should all be in position by midnight.”
If the Soldaran generals were canny, and Raidan had no doubt they were, he knew they had sent their own scouts to reconnoiter the ridges as well.
“For our plan to remain viable, the Soldaran scouts will have to be allowed to report back that there’s only a small garrison here to defend the valley,” Raidan said.
“Every one of our scouts is mage-trained in detection and memory alteration,” Sen responded. “All the humans will remember seeing is a whole lot of dark and a few torches on the castle walls.”
“Mai, I believe you have a report on the state of the provisions,” Raidan prompted as he refilled his wine goblet.
“Yes, Highness,” Mai Nohe replied. He wiped his hands on his breeches then pulled a scroll from the leather satchel at his feet. Unrolling the paper, he scanned it for a heartbeat, then cleared his throat and spoke. “We have enough grain, meat, and…”
“Father, a human scout’s been captured!”
Everyone turned to look at Raidu as he burst into the tent, flushed and out of breath.
At the same moment, a commotion erupted outside. Someone cried, “Make way for the lady!” and a female voice, calm and perfectly audible above the racket, commanded, “I am here to see Prince Raidan. Let me pass.”
Raidan found himself on his feet with no memory of having left his chair.
Goddess’ tits, what’s she doing here?
The tent flap lifted and the King’s Companion swept in, trailing an agitated clot of guards and fellow mages in her wake. “My lord Prince,” she murmured and sank into a deep bow.
“Lady Sonoe…I confess, I’m surprised to see you,” Raidan responded. “Why have you left my brother’s side?”
Something feels wrong here, Raidan thought. He took a step forward and offered a hand to assist the sorceress as she rose to her feet. As his fingers closed about hers, a wave of vertigo struck him. He staggered a little, then shook his head like a man ridding himself of the last vestiges of a dream.
“Is something wrong, Raidan?” Sen inquired.
“No, no. I’m fine,” Raidan replied. Perplexed by what he had just experienced but having no ready explanation, he dismissed it from his mind. He stared into Sonoe’s face, and saw written there the very thing he feared most to hear.
“My brother is dead,” he murmured.
Sonoe’s eyes shone like luminous disks of jade in her pale, heart-shaped face. Something flickered within their depths, a glow the prince had never seen before.
Her chin lifted before she spoke to confirm what Raidan had already stated. “Yes,” she whispered.
Even though he knew it might happen and he believed himself prepared, the reality of Keizo’s death still struck Raidan like an axe blow. For a few terrible moments, he couldn’t breathe.
“The One have mercy on us.” Sen murmured, then asked, “What of my daughter-in-law?”
Sonoe turned her unsettling gaze on the Lord of Kerala. “She is devastated,” the mage replied. “She has sunk into a despair so deep, I fear she may never emerge.”
Raidan’s lips twisted into a frown. “Jelena is strong. She knows what’s at stake. She will recover.” He framed his words as a statement, for to do otherwise would be to admit his uncer
tainty.
“Highness, I have ridden practically without pause to reach you. May I sit?” Sonoe asked.
“Yes, of course.” He gestured for one of the servants to bring a stool, and the sorceress sank onto it with a grateful sigh. Her fellow mages remained standing in the background, their faces masks of consternation and worry. Even the dour old man whom Raidan had presumed to be their leader remained on his feet, as if he had already ceded his authority to the Companion.
Sonoe’s next words confirmed her new office. “I’m here to take command of the mages, your Highness,” she stated. “I can’t help the king…I mean, I can’t help Keizo any longer, but as a First Mage of the Kan Onji, I’m the most powerful practitioner in Alasiri after your wife. The princess herself ordered me to come.”
“Father,” Raidu interrupted. He stood at the tent flap, holding it open with one hand. “The scouts have brought the human. They’re outside with him now.”
“Have him brought in,” Raidan ordered. “Sonoe, we must talk, but I need to question this human.”
Too much is happening at once, Raidan thought. He felt oddly unbalanced, as if some unseen force sucked at him, draining him of vitality.
“Yes, my lord Prince,” Sonoe answered, inclining her head in submission. Raidan stared for a few heartbeats at the Companion, trying to fathom why she seemed different, somehow, then ascribed it to grief and fatigue, both his own and hers. He turned his attention to the commotion at the pavilion entrance.
Two scouts pushed their way through the flap, dragging a struggling figure between them. They hauled their captive to the center of the room and shoved him hard, sending him sprawling to the mats. Both scouts bowed, then readied themselves to pounce should the human try to make an escape.
“Your Highness, we captured this human on the east ridge,” one of the scouts stated.
“Stand up,” Raidan ordered in Soldaran. The man, who’d been crouching on the floor, unmoving, looked up sharply. His thin, ugly face bore a look of such astonishment that Raidan had to laugh. “I said, stand up,” he repeated, “or is my Soldaran so bad that you do not understand?”
The man unfolded his lanky frame and stood, though his shoulders remained stooped, as if he expected a killing blow to fall at any moment. “I understan’ ye well enough, tink,” the man muttered. His brown eyes burned with sullen defiance. It was difficult to tell his age; humans did not weather the passage of time very well, but Raidan thought he might be just past his youth.
“I am a merciful man,” Raidan said. “Tell me what I need to know and I will spare your life.”
The human sniffed, then with cool deliberateness, spat on Raidan’s boot.
Everyone in the room froze.
Like a hound unleashed, Raidu sprang to attack. He felled the captive with a brutal punch to the man’s face, then began kicking him in the ribs. The prince’s guards, after a moment’s hesitation, joined in. The sound of their boots made a meaty, thudding accompaniment to the man’s screams. Raidan heard the unmistakable wet crunch of breaking bone.
“What are you doing!” Sen Sakehera shouted.
“Stop this at once!” Raidanroared. The guards fell back immediately, but Raidu, face alight with savage glee, aimed a final kick at the human’s head. The man convulsed, then lay still, blood and vomit leaking from his nose and mouth. Raidu spat in his face, then backed off.
Raidan stared at the broken, bleeding human, too consumed with rage to speak. Everyone in the tent shrank back against the walls except Sen, Raidu and Sonoe. Sen clutched the sides of his head and uttered a string of curses. Raidu insolently held his ground while Sonoe crouched and carefully laid a hand on the human’s forehead. She remained thus for many heartbeats, a living statue, eyes closed.
The air in the room, saturated with violence and horror, shimmered on the verge of ignition.
“We…are not…barbarians,” Raidan finally managed to croak through jaws clenched so tight, they ached. “We do not kick prisoners to death!” He whirled around to glare at the guards, who all fell to their knees like wheat beneath the scythe, heads bowed. Out of the corner of his eye, Raidan saw Kaisik staring at his brother, whey-faced. The boy pressed a hand to his mouth, stumbled over to the wall then vomited against the canvas.
“Sorry, Father, but the cur had it coming,” Raidu drawled. “He dared to insult an elven prince.”
Raidan lowered his head and focused for a moment on his dusty, spittle-stained boots, reining in his anger so he could respond to his son without howling.
“I needed the information that man could have provided,” he said. “Something he knew may have spared the lives of many of our troops. Did you even…for an instant…consider that?” He looked into Raidu’s eyes, hoping to find the tiniest scrap of remorse, but he saw none. His son merely shrugged.
“Your Highness,” Sonoe spoke up softly. “I’ve scanned the dead man’s mind and retrieved some images. They might be of use.”
If a trained mage scanned a person’s mind immediately after death, the deceased’s last thoughts, impressions, and memories could sometimes be recovered.
Perhaps Sonoe has been able to salvage something useful out of this debacle, Raidan thought.
“I commend you on your quick thinking, my lady,” he replied, then snapped to the guards, “Get this body out of here!”
The guards scrambled to obey, dragging the dead human out of the tent, leaving a bloody trail in their wake.
“You,” Sen gestured to the two scouts, both of whom had jumped out of the way the moment Raidu had attacked. “Could you tell whether or not the Soldaran had a partner?”
The pair stepped forward, shaking their heads in unison. “No, my lord,” the older man answered. “He was alone. Neither of us sensed any others nearby.”
“Tell us what you learned,” Sen ordered, turning to Sonoe.
“He did have a partner, Highness,” she answered. “But I got no sense that they were together when your scouts discovered this man. The other one may very well still be up on the ridge, or he may have already returned to the main body of the Soldaran army. This man felt certain, though, that the Soldarans will have no difficulty retaking the valley.”
“Very good,” Sen commented.
“You see, Father?” Raidu interjected. “Questioning that creature would have been useless, so there’s really no harm done…”
“Be silent!” Raidan barked. He glared at his son. “At this moment, I can barely stand to look at you, much less listen to any opinions you might have.” Raidu’s lips twisted into a petulant bow and for an instant, Raidan thought his son might actually defy him, but the younger prince evidently thought better of it and held his tongue.
Before Raidan could speak again, Lady Odata strode into the pavilion. “I came as soon as I heard, your Highness. Where is the prisoner?” Odata wore a look of high expectation on her face but she stopped short in obvious confusion when she saw the grim expressions confronting her. “What is it? What has happened?” She looked first at Raidan, then at Sen.
“The prisoner is dead,” Sen replied.
“What? How?” Odata exclaimed in dismay.
“It doesn’t matter,” Raidan stated. “He didn’t know anything useful.” Odata glanced at the blood on the mats and her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t press the issue.
“I’m glad you’re here now, Odata. I need to speak with you.” Raidan took a deep breath and forced himself to sit. With that simple act, he banished enough tension in the room to allow everyone else to relax.
“Guardsmen and scouts, you are all dismissed,” the prince ordered. “Mages as well. Lady Sonoe, you and your second, please stay.” He waited until all the guards, the two scouts, and the rest of the mages had filed out before he spoke again. “Tell me about my brother.”
“He died in my arms,” Sonoe answered in a rough whisper. “In the end, he was at peace and in no pain. I saw to that myself.”
“Thank you,” Raidan tried to say, but a st
range lassitude had begun to creep over him, turning his body into an unwieldy sack of stones and his mind into treacle. Sonoe’s eyes expanded before his sight, merging into a single, whirling jade pool. He felt it sucking him down, and he struggled to break free. Just as he thought he might be pulled in, he was released.
“Ai, Goddess!” he gasped. “What just happened?” He shook his head and pressed a palm to his brow.
“What do you mean, my lord? Is something wrong?” Sonoe murmured.
“Did you try to scan me just now?” Raidan regarded the sorceress with growing suspicion.
Sonoe’s face lost all color. “No, your, Highness!” she replied, bowing her head. “I would never presume to enter your mind without your permission. I apologize if my own grief somehow disturbed you. The king’s death has affected me very deeply.” Her beautiful mouth trembled.
A sharp pang of remorse stung Raidan’s already aching heart. “Of course. Of course it has. I know how you felt about my brother, Sonoe,” he said softly, “and your love and loyalty won’t go unrewarded.”
“I don’t want any reward, your Highness. All I want is to have my soulmate back, but that’s not possible.” She turned her face away, but not before the prince glimpsed the sparkle of tears on her cheeks.
“The other lords must be informed of the king’s death, Raidan,” Sen said in a low voice.
Raidan raised his hand and Mai Nohe materialized at his shoulder. “See to it that runners are sent to all the other lords. I want them here right away,” he ordered.
“Yes, my lord Prince,” Mai answered and strode out of the tent.
Sen crouched by Raidan’s stool and murmured, too softly for anyone else to hear, “Raidan, you are king of Alasiri now.”
Raidan sighed. Ever since the day when Keizo had ascended the throne and had named him Heir, the prince had prepared for this moment, but now that it had come, he felt nothing but sorrow and desolation.
This is not how I wanted to be made king!
“Yes, I realize that.” he replied aloud. “All too well.”
Raidan rose from his stool and looked around the room. Sen remained kneeling, and the prince saw that everyone else in the pavilion had knelt as well, including Raidu, who for once seemed beyond insolence.
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