A man sat at the end of the table. Even seated, he was tall and imposing, at least as big as Sonya’s father, but far more elegant.
Sonya walked halfway up the length of the table. Duke Desmond seemed very handsome, until she came close enough to see broken veins in the nose and fleshy bags under his eyes.
The duke turned his pale blue eyes on her. Set so far apart that even the large nose seemed rather narrow, those eyes were frightening all on their own.
She bowed. “Your Grace, thank you for seeing me.”
Who are you?” the duke said, sounding both bored and angry at the same time. “And where did you get this?” He waved Sonya’s letter, his sleeve—purple velvet trimmed with silver—flapping with his gesture.
“Captain Sonya Vidmar,” she said, remembering to use her new rank. “Count Faris gave me the letter. He said he got it from you.”
“Huh.” The duke bent over the letter again, his light blond hair—or was it gray?—obstructing Sonya’s view of the upper part of the letter. Kendryk’s signature was at the bottom, but such a scribble might have been anyone’s.
Sonya prayed she wasn’t getting the prince in more trouble by revealing the letter, but she hadn’t been able to think of another way of getting into the duke’s presence.
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here,” the duke said.
Sonya took a deep breath. “The letter says you’re hiring officers for a standing army. Count Faris couldn’t come so he sent me instead.” She flashed what she hoped was a charming smile. “I’ve been at loose ends since the peace in Sanova and could use a job.”
“The letter was a, hm, mistake,” the duke said. “Too complicated to explain right now.”
He paused and regarded first Sonya and then Irena with a critical eye. “You’re Orician cavalry if I’m not mistaken. Why don’t you have a seat, and we’ll discuss the possibilities.”
Duke Desmond waited for Sonya and Irena to sit down at places in the middle of the table, then waved at a young man sitting in the corner of the room. Sonya hadn’t even noticed him. He hurried off, his head down, letting the door fall shut behind him.
“I have a job for you,” the duke said, “but I don’t know if I can trust you.”
“No one trusts mercenaries,” Sonya said bluntly.
“True.” The duke cracked a smile. “You’re bold, though. I like that. Where are you from?”
“Oricia.” Sonya decided it would be unwise to disclose her local ties. If anything went wrong, she didn’t want the duke targeting her family. “Both of us.” She nodded toward Irena, who remained mute, but glowered at the duke, still in character.
“Why wouldn’t you seek work farther south?”
Sonya had worried he’d ask that question. “It’s awkward.”
The duke arched his eyebrows.
She hesitated, wondering how the duke felt about the Inferrara emperors. If he was typical of Terragand aristocracy, not too friendly. “I’m afraid I made Archduchess Teodora Inferrara lose her temper. I doubt I’ll work for an imperial army again.”
The duke smiled at that, which somehow made him look even more frightening. Perhaps because his teeth were large, and somewhat yellow. “You angered an Inferrara and survived?”
“Barely.” Sonya smiled back. “Do you need to know what happened?” Best to appear as forthcoming as possible.
“Not now.” The duke went back to looking bored. “The thing is.” He dropped his voice, even though there was no one else in the room. “I have a sensitive task and would prefer it carried out by someone who is not a local.”
Sonya leaned the slightest bit forward, careful to keep her expression blank.
He frowned. “What did Count Faris have to say about the situation here? Did he mention me or the prince?”
Sonya shrugged, hoping she looked casual even as her heart pounded. “He said you were the most important of the three regents and would likely make all the decisions. Not much about the prince, except that he was still too young to be in charge.”
The duke didn’t bother trying to hide his smile. “That’s good news. I’ve known Ruso Faris from childhood, and always found him rather stuffy and humorless. He was good friends with Prince Edwyn, and I worried that perhaps he was angry at not being appointed co-regent.”
“He never mentioned that,” Sonya said. It was hard to imagine Faris harboring that kind of ambition, but she had no way of knowing. “Though he seemed to like the possibility of perhaps serving in Terragand again. I’m sure you’ll hear from him when his current contract comes to an end.”
“I would like that,” the duke said with an insincere smile. “But in the meantime, perhaps I can make use of you.” He nodded at Irena. “Does she speak at all, or just scowl?”
“She speaks, just not Olvisyan,” Sonya lied.
“Even better.” The duke grinned his unpleasant grin again. “This mission requires a great deal of discretion. Perhaps I can’t trust you, but that makes you no different from anyone else I know. What I can do is make this job so worth your while, you will be happy to do all I ask.”
“I may be a mercenary.” Sonya lifted her chin and looked him in the eye, “but I still have principles.”
“Of course, of course.” The duke flapped his hands at her. “And I’m not asking you to do anything too awful. I just need you to keep your mouth shut about it. When the job is done, you’ll have all the coin you need and my personal recommendation to any general hiring outside the empire. How does that sound?”
“Marvelous, to be honest,” Sonya forced a smile. “Now what is the job?”
“It concerns the prince.” The duke was whispering again. “And his mother. They’re both turning out to be terrible problems for me.”
“I heard a rumor the prince was involved in something treasonous,” Sonya ventured.
“Mmm, not quite, though he stepped out of line. The fact is, he’s not ready to rule but insists on being involved anyway. I don’t wish to harm him.”
The duke’s snake-like eyes said otherwise, and Sonya had to swallow down a rush of nausea.
“But I need him out of the way for the time being. His mother has been ill, but I fear she might be deceiving me. If she is, I’ll send both of them on a little journey.”
“Where would they go?”
“I’ll let you know in time.” The duke clasped his hands on the table, light flashing off a great diamond in his ring. “But first, I have a smaller mission for you, a way for you to prove how trustworthy you are.”
Sonya forced herself to stay calm. This was a better opportunity than she’d dreamed of, but now she couldn’t put a foot wrong. Having seen the duke up close, she worried he might cause her as much trouble as Teodora had.
Birkenhof Palace
Now that Kendryk had told his story to Mother Luysa , he became even more impatient. Surely she’d understood that she needed to tell the truth to as many people as possible? Maybe she’d even consider it important enough to inform the Maxima. That would be best. Kendryk needed someone in a high position able to stand up to the duke and help him.
Spending time with his mother was just as frustrating. The Baroness Engler hovered over them constantly, and beyond a brief squeeze of the hand or a smile, they weren’t able to communicate any more than before.
At least Kendryk told his mother about the priestess’s visit, though he had to leave it at his confession all of his sins. He hated watching his mother now, clear-eyed and responsive, while realizing she had to spend all of her time pretending to be drugged.
He wondered if the baroness noticed the changes, and he also wondered how long it would be before the water in the little bottle ran out and was replaced with the drug again. Before that happened, he had to get his mother out of there.
Kendryk was alone in his study one morning, his elbows propped on the desk, wondering if he should send a servant for more coffee. He’d been trying to read, but found it hard to concentrate, and the cu
p he’d already had stood empty. He wondered if he’d ruined his brain, trying so hard and failing to come up with an escape plan.
It seemed ridiculous. He wasn’t in a dungeon, had significant freedom of movement, and there weren’t that many guards.
Still, he couldn’t just leave. If it hadn’t been for his mother, he might have tried to make a run for it, and at least get to Julia Maxima at Heidenhof. Even if she returned him to the duke, surely she’d let him send a letter to Prince Gauvain?
But it was too risky. His mother was effectively a hostage, and even if she had been well enough to go with him, he didn’t know how to get her out from under the watchful baroness.
It was quiet in the study, a small fire crackling in the grate, wind rattling the window panes, so Kendryk jumped when something hit the glass with a loud smack. Hardly daring to hope, he got up and walked over to it, then gasped as he saw who stood below. He swung the window open and leaned out.
“Georg! How did you find me?”
Georg Kasler, the university friend he’d sent for, stood below, wrapped up in a long cloak. His round face was rosy from the cold, his spectacles fogged over. He waved a sheet of paper.
“You wrote, asking me to come be your secretary.”
“I did.” Kendryk grinned, pleased his letters had gotten out. Who else might come as a result? Kendryk leaned further out and looked around, but saw no guards. “Did anyone follow you into the garden?”
“No. Those guards at the front told me you weren’t allowed to see anyone, which seemed strange. So I went around to the servant’s door and got a warm drink in the kitchen. Your man Arvus was down there and told me what was going on. Then he showed me how to get out here the back way, and which window was yours.”
“How marvelous.” Kendryk kept grinning. He would never have thought to use the servant’s entrance. “I’m sorry you’ve come all this way, and now I don’t have work for you. I hope that will change soon, but I haven’t figured out how.”
“Looks like you might need help.” Georg shivered and stamped his feet. The wind coming around the corner of the building was icy.
Kendryk’s nose grew numb. “I do,” Kendryk said. “Can you go to Julia Maxima in Heidenhof?”
“I doubt a Maxima will see me.” Georg grinned.
“Please try. Tell her I sent you and that she’s to take care of you.” Kendryk doubted Georg had much money, and he didn’t want him spending any more on his behalf. “If she won’t see you, go find a Mother Luysa at the eastern temple. I’m sure she’ll help you at least.”
“Will the Maxima help you, if she knows the duke has locked you up ?”
“I have no idea,” Kendryk admitted, “though I’d like to think so.” Now he talked fast, not wanting Georg to freeze to death. “But even if she won’t help, come back tomorrow and I’ll have a letter for you to send out.”
“They won’t even let you do that?” Georg frowned.
“Especially not that.” Kendryk shook his head. “I need to get a message to Prince Gauvain of Galladium. I’m certain he’ll help.”
“I’ll come pick it up tomorrow,” Georg said. “Same time, same place?”
“Yes,” Kendryk said. “I’m sorry to have brought you into this when all you need is a job.”
“It’s all right.” Georg’s blue eyes were merry as ever. “I’m happy to help, if I can. Seems like quite a mess you’ve gotten yourself into. Can’t wait to hear the story over a mug of ale.”
“Can’t wait to have a mug of ale with you,” Kendryk said with a laugh. Right now he could think of nothing he’d like more than a bench in a warm tavern, talking to Georg. “Now go, before you catch your death.”
Georg grinned and waved, then hurried down the garden path.
Kendryk left the window open until Georg disappeared around the corner, presumably to find his way back through the servant’s quarters.
Kendryk now wished he’d taken the time to explore all of the palace, not just the parts he lived in. If the guards weren’t watching the servant’s areas, there might be a way out through them. As he returned to his chair, he couldn’t stop smiling. It was nice to see his old friend, and even better, hope that help was now close at hand.
Kendryk couldn’t tell his mother about Georg’s visit, but he hoped he conveyed to her that help might be near, just by his happier, more hopeful expression.
After seeing her, it still felt like a long time until the next morning, and Georg’s return, but Kendryk used it to compose his letter to Gauvain. In case it fell into the wrong hands, he kept it as vague as possible, while still making it clear significant influence over the duke was needed.
Even at sixteen, Gauvain was a clever politician, and would have ideas. He’d likely even be diplomatic about it, though Kendryk didn’t much care about that. He needed his old life back, and with any luck, he’d sideline the duke once he had it.
Kendryk swore to himself that he’d never again put himself into such a vulnerable situation. Once he got out of here, he’d be in charge of Terragand, and no one would ever again send him to his room as if he’d been a naughty child.
He slept poorly because of his excitement, and returned to his study early with the letter. He didn’t bother with his books, and spent a good few hours pacing back and forth to the window. He didn’t know when Georg would return, but hoped it would be soon, and with news that the Maxima would help him.
So he was completely unprepared for the knock on the door when it came. This was not Arvus’s soft tapping; this was loud and forceful.
“Come in,” Kendryk said, his throat suddenly dry.
The door opened and two women in long red coats stepped in.
Kendryk backed up. He’d never seen women like these before. He’d seen plenty who were soldiers, but these two were different, with an exotic look, and a menacing air.
Trying to sound bored and indifferent, like he did around servants, he asked, “Who are you?”
“Doesn’t matter,” the taller of the two said, crossing the room in just a few long strides until she stood in front of Kendryk. “The duke sent us to teach you a lesson. You were told not to send out any messages, or talk to anyone from the outside. Seems you’ve done both.” Nearly a head taller than Kendryk, she moved with an athletic grace, her cropped brown hair and tanned face giving her a particularly soldierly appearance.
“I have sent no messages,” Kendryk said, taking a seat as his knees shook. “If my friend has been detained, tell the duke to let him go. He didn’t know he wasn’t allowed to see me, and is carrying no messages from me, I swear it.”
The letter to Prince Gauvain lay in a drawer in his desk, right beside him. The fact it hadn’t gone out would make no difference to these women.
“Don’t know what’s happened to your friend,” the woman said, now standing in front of his chair, scowling down at him. “I’m not telling the duke anything, except that I’ve carried out his orders. Now, on your feet. You’re coming with us.”
Kendryk stood up, and the woman grabbed his arm. He was actually grateful for that, because he worried his legs might give out. “Where are you taking me?”
“To your mother,” the woman said, as she walked him to the door.
Oh gods. Kendryk almost said it out loud, but bit his tongue. Surely these people wouldn’t hurt his mother for a mistake he’d made?
They walked down the long, deserted corridor.
“So where are you from?” Kendryk asked, his eyes darting around, trying and failing to find an escape route. “You sound like you’re from around here, but those coats look Orician.”
“Shut up,” the woman snapped, and stepped up the pace, dragging him up the stairs.
Kendryk slumped, hoping to make himself heavier, but the woman hauled him along as though he were a doll.
So far, the other woman hadn’t said a word, but even though she was smaller, she looked just as terrifying. Kendryk wondered what these two might be capable of, then decide
d he’d rather not know. He couldn’t think of how to get away. But even if he did somehow manage it, where would he go? He doubted he would get as far as Heidenhof on foot without being caught.
There was a muttered exchange between the two of them in a language Kendryk didn’t understand. It seemed they were looking for the door to his mother’s suite. No guards stood outside. He considered steering them wrong, but didn’t see what good it would do.
Unfortunately, they found it quickly enough, once the smaller woman counted the doors from the landing. His mother’s was third on the right.
Kendryk started praying.
They opened the door without bothering to knock, and shoved Kendryk inside.
The Baroness Engler let out a small shriek. “Oh, Your Grace, what’s happened?”
“The duke has sent his dogs to do his dirty work,” Kendryk said, anger pushing through his fear.
The baroness gasped, her eyes wide, her curls quivering.
“Don’t pretend like you care,” he added, deciding he no longer had reason to feign ignorance of what she had done.
His mother climbed out of her bed, and made her way slowly across the room.
“You should leave now, Betta,” she said to the baroness. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t come back, since you’ve failed to take care of me, as you’d promised.”
“I-I—” the baroness stammered, her eyes wide with shock. This was probably the first time she’d heard the princess speak, or seen her walk, in several years.
“Get out!” Kendryk shouted, surprised at his anger. He couldn’t take it out on the duke, but yelling at the baroness provided some small satisfaction.
The baroness edged past his two captors, making her way to the door.
“Traitor,” he said as she went by.
“All right then,” the tall woman said once the door slammed behind the baroness. “Let’s get this over with.” She still held Kendryk by the arm.
“Please,” he said, deciding he wasn’t too proud to beg. “Please punish me. My mother has done nothing at all. The duke’s been keeping her drugged for years.”
The Forsaken Crown (The Desolate Empire Book 0) Page 11
