by Megan Derr
"What attack on the road?" Ihsan demanded. "Woman—" He broke off as she pressed a finger to his lips.
"My poor reception put it from my mind, much as I hate to admit it," she said, slowly removing her fingers and resting her hands against his chest. "It was a couple of days after we left the monastery. Two of them. I caught the one sneaking up on me; Meltem took care of the second one. Emre and the others found the rest waiting in the woods and ran their horses off. After that, we got here as quickly as we could, left men behind to watch. Emre has never said, but I suspect the men he left took care of at least one other threat. But I've no idea who could have hired them, and why they'd wait until I left the monastery to try and kill me. It's not like it would have been hard to sneak into the monastery for even a half-decent assassin."
"Could have been assassin spiders, I think that's what Kitt is always calling them," Ihsan said and at her puzzled look, said, "A type of spider that eats other spiders. But the one we saw in the Desert didn't go out hunting its prey. It waited patiently for the prey to walk by and then struck."
"You think the assassins were waiting until I left the monastery."
Ihsan shrugged. "It's impossible to know, but if you were holed up in a monastery far away from here, you were no threat, and assassination is a complicated, messy business. So if I were the one who wanted you dead that seems the most efficient method: order men to watch you and kill you only when it seemed you were going to be a threat again." He squeezed her arms when she shivered. "Sorry."
"Better to know, even if now I feel violated," Euren said with a sigh, resting her forehead against his chest briefly. After a couple of minutes, she drew back and frowned at him. "How in the world did you get here so quickly? I would have thought they'd strike us at the same time to prevent this very thing."
"Luck," Ihsan replied. "The assassins going after me never made it. I encountered them in the tunnel. I'd gone to see Sabah, but he wasn't there, and they…" He trailed off as what the assassin had said finally struck home. "My father. They've already killed my father and then were going to kill me. I—" He broke off, words abruptly drying up.
Euren cupped his face. "Ihsan. Go to your father. I know you won't settle for doing anything else. I'll go find Sabah and Kitt, let them know what's happened. Once we know for ourselves, we'll get everyone back in place and alert the guards. All right."
He kissed her, hard and quick. "Love you." Darting off back into the tunnels, grabbing his dropped dagger on the way, Ihsan snatched up the lantern and moved as quickly as he dared through the tunnels. Euren was somewhere behind him and called out softly for him to be careful before she split off toward the harem hall.
When he reached his father's chambers, everything was quiet, ordinary. He could hear the buzz of insects, the noise of night birds fighting in the garden. Nothing seemed amiss until he passed through the archway from the front rooms to the bedroom and saw two concubines lying on the floor in pools of their own blood. Damn.
Ihsan walked around them, drew one of his daggers as he approached the bed… and did not know what to feel when he saw Kagan lying there with his throat slit, eyes cold and vacant, as lifeless as the nameless soldiers Ihsan had seen more times than he cared to count.
His breath hitched, eyes stinging. He turned away, stowed his dagger, and quickly fled the room. The world was better off with Kagan dead, and it wasn't as though he and his father had ever cared about each other… He shook his head. It didn't matter. This was a major goal achieved, and he was just letting it affect him so because he was already unsettled by all the problems he was facing—problems his father had caused.
Slipping back into the secret passage, he lingered, not quite certain what to do next. Euren. Kitt. Sabah. He needed to get to them, that was it.
His legs felt heavy and stiff as he resumed walking, slowly making his way back to Euren's room.
Movement ahead of him in the passage drew him to a halt—and the tension bled out again as he registered Sabah, Kitt, and Euren. "Ihsan!" Sabah reached him first, running up and grabbing him. "Are you all right? You look like you…" He stopped then said quietly, "I'm sorry."
"What's to be sorry about?" Ihsan asked, fighting the exhaustion washing over him like a tide as his body calmed down from fear and fighting. "With my father gone we can fix everything, and we didn't even have to do the killing."
"Be quiet," Kitt muttered, hugging him from behind. Euren stepped in closed, pulled his head down to press their foreheads together.
Ihsan didn't have the energy or, to be honest, the will, to push away from their comfort. He knew there were people perfectly happy to go through life mostly or even entirely alone, but he would never be that type of person.
After several minutes, he finally nudged them away. "We need to get moving, alert the guards. Merciful Divine, I'll never complain of sleeping problems again."
"Must not have been very good assassins if you were able to get the better of them so easily, but I'm not complaining," Kitt said.
"I don't understand," Sabah said as they resumed heading for Euren's room. "If you killed two, and one went to Euren's room, why didn't they just go one and one and one. Why send two to kill the king and then go to kill you?"
Kitt's mean little laugh filtered through the tunnel. "Take care of the easy marks first, then focus everyone on the hard target."
Ihsan rolled his eyes, pushed open the door to Euren's room, and hopped down. He offered a hand up to Euren. "Who in the world would name Euren the easiest target of the three of us? If they'd sent three after her, they might have almost succeeded. But one? Please." He kissed the back of her hand then let it go. "Whoever hired them doesn't know us very well."
"Or holds women in contempt in general," Sabah said. "Like a certain Steward who was ordered to leave Tavala immediately, but lingered four days."
"To be fair, he was unconscious and then too sick to move for two of those days," Ihsan. "I almost wish he hadn't recovered; that would be one less thing to worry us."
Kitt muttered softly in Rittuen, then said more clearly in Tavamaran, "I should have just slit his throat while he slept. Nobody is going to miss him."
Ihsan didn't reply. "We need to hurry up because the guards are already going to notice this body has been here for some time."
"I'll tell them I snuck my harem in to see me," Euren replied. "It's a violation, but a believable one, and once they find the king dead, it won't matter. Better get going, all of you."
"What are we going to do about the bodies in the passage?" Ihsan asked.
Kitt shrugged. "I'll wait until everything quits down and then hide them in the body carts. That seems to be a done thing around here. Euren's assassin can take the fall for all of them."
"Sounds good to me, now get going." Euren hugged them, then kissed Ihsan before withdrawing and stripping off her clothes. "Good luck."
"Merciful Divine go with you," Ihsan said, then hustled back into the tunnel with the other two, pulling the door shut behind him.
Sabah and Kitt pressed close in the dark, kissing him hard, leaving his mouth wet and bruised. He kissed them each one last time before gently pushing them away. "Once all this settles down I will find a way to have you at my side again or I swear I will tear this place apart." He swallowed. "It's—it's unbearable."
"For us, too," Sabah said. "I keep working and working because I don't want to sleep in an empty bed that isn't mine."
Kitt muttered in Rittuen. Ihsan did not catch the words, but the sentiment was clear enough. "Go," he whispered and walked on himself before he dallied any longer. He walked quickly, not quite running, blowing out the lantern as he stepped into the storeroom. Setting the lantern on the shelf, he padded back into the main room.
He heard the soft rush of footsteps just in time to turn, and the knife meant to go between his ribs instead sliced his side. Ihsan snarled, clutching at his side as he reeled away and drew one of his own daggers, still sticky in places with the blood of hi
s earlier kills.
Damn, damn, damn. They had made some really stupid assumptions—even Kitt had thought assassins had never made it to Ihsan's room.
He dodged as the man came at him again, wincing as the movement pulled at his wound, blood pouring hot and sticky over his fingers. He scrambled away, put the table between him and his attacker, grabbed the carafe of wine still on it, and threw. It struck the assassin in the face, wine splashing everywhere, blood pouring from his nose. Ihsan leapt up onto the table and lunged forward, sinking the knife into the assassin's gut. He shoved the man back, dropped, and swept his legs out from under him. The man's head made a hard, ugly crack as it hit the floor. Not waiting for him to recover, Ihsan circled around him, crouched down and got hold of him, and snapped his neck.
The pounding of feet made his own head shoot up, just in time to be grabbed by another man. He grabbed the man's wrist with his bloody hand, fumbling for the remaining dagger in his sash, grunting when the man slammed a hand into his nose. He dropped to the floor, legs sprawled over the body of the first.
Smirking, the assassin knelt to finish the job, candlelight catching on steel. Ihsan finally got the damned dagger out of his sash, swung up with it—and snarled as his wrist was grabbed, twisted painfully. The man hauled him up, pinned him tightly so Ihsan's back was to his chest, and pressed his dagger to the side of Ihsan's neck.
"Ihsan!"
The cry came too late as steel slid across his throat, spilling hot blood down his shoulder and chest. Ihsan tried to breathe, tried to stay conscious, fuzzily hearing Kitt screaming his name.
Then, mercifully, he didn't know anything at all.
Fifteen
Euren wrapped herself in a blanket, then screamed for the guards.
They burst into the room, swords drawn, but nearly dropped them when they spied the man lying on the floor. "Highness!" the taller guard burst out. "Are you well?"
"I'm fine," Euren said. "I managed to kill him, by the grace of the Divine. Alert the rest of the guards, ensure that Prince Ihsan and His Majesty, the councilors, and ambassadors are all well. Go now, at once."
"Yes, Highness," the shorter guard replied. The tall one lingered, frowning pensively at the body, then at Euren. "Highness…"
Her mouth quirked. "Yes, I know. I—" she pushed her hair back, made a show of being sheepish. "I wanted to give my harem a chance to sneak back to their rooms first. I was too flustered to realize at first that time was of the essence, that I might not be the only one they wanted to kill."
"Yes, Highness," the guard said, still frowning but letting the matter drop. "I'm sure His Majesty and Prince Ihsan are well. Respect, I will remain here with you until more guards arrive."
She nodded, and he turned his back as she climbed out of bed to get dressed, hastily pulling on the clothes she'd been wearing only minutes ago. Quickly braiding her hair and wrapping it into a knot, she pulled on sturdy ankle boots and tucked her throwing knives into their hidden sheaths. Bless Ihsan, he had known exactly how to order her clothes.
Dressed, she walked over to the guard and stood in front of him. "I want my father brought to me, and I do not care about the king's orders. Bring my harem as well and see that Ihsan's harem is sent to him. I think, in light of this, the more protection we have—"
The sound of panicked, shouting voices cut her off; she pulled a dagger as feet came pounding into her room. Guards burst in, faces filled with dismay edging on panic. "The king is dead! Prince Ihsan is badly wounded."
"What are you talking about?" Euren demanded, almost dropping her dagger.
"We have found His Majesty dead, and Prince Ihsan was badly wounded by his attackers."
Oh, no. There must have been an assassin already in the room or something. Ice ran through her body, and a scream lodged in her throat. She barely held it back as she shoved past the guards before they could stop her. Euren ran as fast as she could, lungs burning, tears stinging her eyes. She could hear guards pounding after her, but only ran faster, barreling into Ihsan's room—and started crying when she saw him lying on the floor, Kitt bent over him struggling to control the blood spilling from his throat. "What happened?" she dropped down on Ihsan's other side. "Divine damn everything, what happened? Ihsan, Ihsan." She balled her hands into fists, then opened them and reached out. Drew back. Reached out. Fumbled helplessly. "I-Ihsan, you can't!"
"Out of the way!" A voice barked, and then she was being shoved aside by a man who immediately started working to save Ihsan, barking orders to Kitt and another man who crouched down beside him. Euren gulped, tried to make her mind work past the stark terror of Ihsan being dead. She'd already lived through that once, had cried and cried and cried, had almost given up hope when the stupid fool had shown up half-dead.
She couldn't go through that again.
Someone said her name. Slowly Euren looked up and stared into Asli's pretty pale eyes. "Asli…"
"Euren, come on, they need you."
She looked at Ihsan, but he was still lying on the floor; her view of him was mostly blocked by the bodies of Kitt and the healers as they worked.
"Euren!"
Looking back at Asli, she drew a breath, then let it out slowly. "Who needs me?"
"Everyone, Euren," Asli said. "His Majesty is dead, remember? And Ihsan… Euren, you're Queen."
The word slapped her in the face, shot through her as though she'd been thrown into the icy river at the base of the monastery. Queen. Merciful Divine she was not ready for that. "Asli…"
"You can do this," Asli said quietly, squeezing her hands. "Come on. You have to take care of everyone, because right now there's no one else to do it."
Euren gulped for breath, pinched her eyes shut, and took another deep breath. Slowly opening her eyes again, she nodded, let go of Asli's hands, and strode over to the guards clustered around looking lost. "Secure the king's body and those of the assassins here and the one in my room. No one goes in or out of the palace. If they try, imprison them."
"Yes, Highness," the guards chorused before scattering to carry out their orders.
As the last of them left, Gulden and Canan stepped into the room, clothes slightly askew and hair hastily pulled back in loose tails. "Princess—" Gulden broke off with a soft cry. "Ihsan! What happened?"
Euren shook her head, not certain she could speak. They rushed forward and hugged her, kissed her sharply. After a moment she stepped away, turning to watch as Kitt and the healer's assistant very carefully moved Ihsan to a pallet they'd set up on the floor. "Will he…"
The healer looked at her, slowly standing up, joints cracking. He shoved messy gray-black curls from his face with bloody fingers, either unaware or uncaring. "Right now it's tenuous, Majesty. The wound at his side was minor, and the throat wound was messy but not necessarily fatal. But he's lost a lot of blood, and after a certain amount is lost there is no recovering. Time alone will tell us. If he makes it through the day, he will probably be fine. Looking at all he has already endured, the strength that would have taken, I have faith."
Majesty. She didn't want that word applied to her. "Thank you. Without you, he would definitely be lost."
He bowed. "An honor to serve, Majesty. If you will pardon me, I must go attend King Kagan's body. I will return to check on His Majesty."
"Of course, thank you." When he'd gone, Euren went to sit down beside Ihsan, resting her head on his forehead, silently praying that he would survive.
"Stupid," Kitt said, full of so much self-loathing Euren's head jerked up, eyes widening in alarm. "I was focused on other things. I got soft and stupid. I assumed, like everyone else, that all the assassins had been accounted for, but they had three teams. I thought of it, but I got here too fucking late." He started snarling at himself in Rittuen.
Euren reached over Ihsan and gripped Kitt's shoulder, shook him. "Kitt, stop it. You're not perfect—nobody is. Whatever mistake you think you made, without you he would definitely be dead. He would not want you blaming yourself. S
top it. Focus on what you did right and what you can still do."
Kitt stared at her, and after what seemed like forever, most of the anger and bleakness in his face drained away. "What do you need me to do?"
"Figure out the assassins. Where is Sabah?"
"Here," Sabah said as he stopped in front of them, chest heaving, skin flushed and gleaming. His face looked stricken as he stared at Ihsan. "Is he…?"
Euren shook her head, fought back the tears stinging her eyes. "He's all right for now, though still critical. Watch over him. I have to take care of the kingdom." A small, shaky laugh slipped out. She tamped down on it before it turned hysterical and pushed stiffly to her feet. "Keep me informed of his progress, Sabah. Kitt, you keep me informed of yours."
"Yes, Majesty," Kitt said and slipped away.
Euren moved to Ihsan's table and sat down, looking over all the papers he'd been going over. He'd kept her apprised of all he did, had been pulling her into more and more of the daily running of the palace and kingdom, but it was hard to do when all their meetings were furtive, and she had so much to learn that she hadn't been able to at the monastery.
She needed help, that much was evident. Thank the Divine she did not have to contend with Bulut. The fool had better hope he was on a ship well out to sea because otherwise Kitt would find him, and when that happened…
Well, she might feel sorry for him if he were not a despicable bastard who deserved every second of the slow, agonizing death Kitt had in store for him.
But no Bulut meant no Steward, and if she didn't want her inexperience burning the kingdom to the ground then she was going to need an advisor. That was a lot of trust to place in a person, however. She stared at the papers, willing them to tell her something.
It was all financial documents, notes scratched out in Ihsan's impatient hand here and there, tidier notes made by Sabah. Finance. Lord Cenk was the Councilor of Finance, one of the most respected men in the palace, and the only councilors they trusted.
