“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Korram shouted, slamming his little pie down onto the counter. Jeskie nudged him again, and from across the room, a family who had been examining a row of decorated cakes turned to stare at him. But he was too angry to care. “That’s exactly what Rampus wants everyone to think, but it’s a lie. It’s a lie! He’s always wanted Malorn for himself, and now he’s trying to take Alasia too!”
Thel put a hand on his arm to try to calm him down, but Korram shook her off. “I should have known. That murderer would do anything to get at the throne. Anything! He knows if he makes himself popular enough, he’ll be the High Council’s natural choice for king. But I never thought he’d go so far as to actually start a war!”
Korram was so angry he wanted to break something. He considered throwing his pie across the room, but Thel was tugging at him with both hands now, trying to turn him toward the door. Korram braced his feet and tried to jerk free. “Let go of me!”
“We should leave,” Jeskie whispered, shooting uncomfortable glances at the customers and bakery workers. Everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing to stare at them.
Ernth nodded firmly. “We are leaving. Come on.” He seized Korram’s other arm and gave it a firm tug, nearly pulling him off balance.
Since Rampus wasn’t within reach, Korram yanked his other arm free of Thel’s grip and swung his fist around as hard as he could, aiming for Ernth’s nose. His friend dodged just in time, and Korram’s clenched fist missed his face and smashed against the bakery rack behind him.
Gelta shrieked as two trays of biscuits slid off the rack, scattering across the floor. “What are you doing?”
“He’s very sorry,” Thel called over her shoulder as she and Ernth dragged Korram toward the door. “He didn’t mean to, and he wants to pay for them. Here.” She reached into Korram’s jacket pocket, and he didn’t bother trying to stop her as she pulled out a handful of coins and dropped them on the corner of the counter. “He won’t ever do it again!”
Outside, Korram wrenched his arms free of his friends’ grasp, still seething. “I can’t believe that man! Is it not enough to steal my kingdom? He had to go steal someone else’s as well? And he murdered the Alasian king and his family, just like he’s planning to murder me, and probably the rest of my family too.” Korram grabbed his spear and vaulted onto Clinja, who had been grazing on some juicy weeds by the side of the road and looked disappointed that they were setting off again so soon.
“And we didn’t even get to eat those round things we paid for,” Ernth grumbled. “I’m hungry.”
“You can eat at the palace,” Korram called over his shoulder as he urged Clinja into a canter again. “Come on. I’ve got to go talk to my family about this, now.”
“Oh well, they probably had some nasty Lowland flavor anyway,” Ernth admitted philosophically, pulling himself onto Hungry’s back and urging her after Korram and Clinja. “And you told me not to make a scene!”
“Are you gonna just ride up to the front gate?” Jeskie called several miles later, as the four of them finally turned down the long gravel drive that led off the main road toward the palace.
Korram was still too upset to stop and think of any other plan; but Rampus was gone, so what did it matter? He was in no mood to waste any more time.
The two guards outside the gate both drew their swords as the foursome approached. “Let me in,” Korram ordered as he and his friends drew up before them. With difficulty, he resisted the urge to jump off his horse and shout in their faces.
The guards stared at him. “Who do you think you are?” one of them demanded. “We don’t let strangers into the royal palace without invitations, let alone savages. Get away from here.”
“Good thing we brought our spears,” muttered Ernth, clutching his as he glanced up at the wall. Two more guards – these ones armed with bows – were staring down at them from the top. “Maybe we should have brought shields too.”
Ignoring him, Korram leaned down from Clinja’s back with his fist extended so the guards would see the ring he wore. He wished he knew their names. There were too many palace guards for him to keep track of them all, though he recognized their faces. But it didn’t matter, since they surely knew him. With Rampus gone, they won’t dare take any action against me. Not here at my own home.
“Don’t waste my time, gentlemen,” he ordered sternly. “I haven’t trekked all the way across the Impassables and back only to be stopped outside my own home.”
Both their jaws fell open in shock. “Prince Korram!” exclaimed the second man. “I beg your pardon, your Highness. We didn’t recognize you.”
“Obviously not,” Korram retorted. He glanced up at the archers, whose job it was to pass on the order to open the gates to those on duty inside. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
“Open up,” one of them called down into the courtyard. “It’s Prince Korram!”
“Welcome back, Sire,” the other archer added, grinning in surprised delight. “We didn’t think we’d be seeing you again.”
You wouldn’t, if the regent had his way. The words were on the tip of Korram’s tongue, but he had the presence of mind to bite them back just in time. The guards were probably all under orders to contact Rampus if he ever showed up again, and he couldn’t afford to let the regent know he didn’t trust him. Especially not now.
They all heard the sound of bolts and chains being unfastened, and then the tall wooden gates creaked slowly inward. Korram and the others rode through, their horses starting in surprise as one of the guards on the wall put a trumpet to his lips and blew a fanfare. Korram winced. Oh well, it wasn’t as though he could really have remained anonymous at this point anyway.
Ernth and Thel gazed around the courtyard in fascination as more guards stood at attention and saluted. Servants scurrying about on errands stopped to bow and gape, nudging each other and staring at Korram’s stained leather tunic and breeches and his snowcat jacket. As they passed the stable, grooms came running out to take their horses.
“It’s so good to see you again, your Highness,” exclaimed Patoran, the head groom, beaming from ear to ear. “We didn’t know if you were even still alive.”
“I am for now,” Korram greeted him grimly, sliding off Clinja’s back. “Put our horses in the pasture, please, not the stable. They’d hate it in there.”
Jeskie jumped off his own horse and took hold of Hungry by the mane as Patoran reached for Clinja and Avalanche. Korram strode toward the front door of the palace, Ernth and Thel hurrying behind.
“I didn’t know buildings could get this big,” exclaimed Thel in wonder, craning her neck to stare up at the palace as they approached. “Look at it! The top parts are practically touching the clouds!”
Ernth peered around apprehensively as they stepped through the front door. He raised an arm to try to touch the ceiling, a foot or so out of reach. “It looks high on the outside, but it’s low on the inside. I don’t understand.”
“This is just the bottom floor,” Korram told them. “There are nine floors in the keep – that is, the main section of the palace – though of course the towers are higher. The highest pinnacle rises over three hundred feet above the ground.” He started up the central stairway, the other two trailing after him.
“What a beautiful picture. How did the artist make it so colorful?” Thel wondered. She paused on the first landing to stare in admiration at an embroidered tapestry depicting a herd of deer grazing in a flowery meadow. Leaning forward, she peered at it closely. “Oh, I see. It isn’t drawn; it’s sewn. I wonder if I could learn to make pictures out of colored thread like this?”
“What I want to know is, how does all that heavy rock stay up above our heads by itself?” Ernth demanded, running a grubby hand over the smooth gray stones of the wall. “What if it falls down on us?”
“It won’t. Come on,” Korram urged, half a flight ahead of them already. Thel tore her gaze away from the tapest
ry and hurried after him, Ernth on her heels.
“Don’t go so fast,” he protested. “If I get left behind and get lost in here, I’ll never find my way out.”
“Then keep up,” Korram called over his shoulder.
At the top of the third flight of stairs, he nearly ran into Kalendria, who was hurrying down the hall toward the stairway. She jumped back with a little scream, her eyes wide with alarm. Then she recognized him and gasped in relief. “Oh! Oh, Korram, it’s you! I thought I heard the trumpet, but I hardly dared to hope –” She broke off and flung herself into his arms.
“I’ve missed you, Little Sister,” he whispered, hugging her back as tightly as he could. “It’s so good to see you again.”
“You too.” She drew back and examined him appraisingly. “You’ve changed.”
“I’m dirtier,” he suggested, and she giggled.
“Well, that too. No offense, but you smell as though you haven’t bathed since you left. And what in the world are you wearing?”
Then she caught sight of the others behind him. “Oh, I beg your pardon. You must be friends of Korram’s.”
“This is Ernth, and this is Thel,” Korram told her. He turned to the Mountain Folk. “And this is my sister Kalendria.”
“So you’re Korram’s younger sister.” Thel smiled. “I’m glad to meet you. You must have missed Korram a lot while he was with us. Guess what – he got Accepted!”
“Um – that’s nice.” Kalendria smiled politely, but without comprehension, and held out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
They stared at her hand. “What happened to your fingernails?” Thel wanted to know, bending over to examine them. “They’re so pink!”
Kalendria withdrew her hand, uncertain whether she should be insulted or amused. “It’s called a manicure.”
“Do you mean you did it on purpose? I’m glad it isn’t some sort of disease. And it’s a very pretty shade of pink,” Thel added hastily, realizing she might have caused offense. “Your clothes are pretty, too, and so soft-looking. It must be interesting being a Lowlander and living in a huge building like this. But don’t you ever miss seeing the sky?”
Korram could tell his sister wasn’t sure what to make of Thel and her candid remarks, but she smiled again in that pretty princess way she was so good at. “I never thought about it. I think it must be interesting to be one of the Mountain Folk and live under the sky all the time. Anyway, welcome to Sazellia.” She turned back to Korram. “Let’s go find Mother. She probably didn’t hear the trumpet since her room’s on the other side.”
The four of them hurried up one more flight of stairs and down the next hall. The attendant on duty by the door gawked at them, but Korram brushed him aside and opened the door himself.
Mother was reclining in her armchair, a book in her hands. At the sight of him, she rose to her feet, the book sliding to the floor. A smile lit her face as she stepped forward and opened her arms. He felt a grin splitting his own face from ear to ear as she wrapped him in a long hug. To his surprise, he realized he was a little taller than she was now.
There were tears in Mother’s eyes when they finally drew apart. “Oh, Korram. Oh, son.” She took his face between her hands. Her soft, graceful hands that held far more power than most people realized. “I’m so happy to have you back.” She pulled him close again and kissed him on the cheek, and then she was all business. “Have a seat. We have a lot to talk about. Who are your companions?”
“These are my Mountain Folk friends, Ernth and Thel. Ernth, Thel, this is my mother, Queen Aleris.”
“I thought so.” Thel grinned. “I’m happy to meet you, Queen Aleris. Your clothes are pretty too, and you smell like flowers. Korram and Kalendria both look like you, I think, although it’s harder to be sure with Korram since he isn’t so clean and his hair sticks up.”
If Mother was startled at Thel’s frankness, she didn’t show it. “Any friends of my son’s are welcome here. Please, make yourselves comfortable.” She gestured to the sofa. Nothing about her gracious smile suggested she had the slightest misgivings about the Mountain Folk in their grubby deerskin reclining on its white velvet cushions. But Korram knew very well that if their family had been alone, his mother would have exclaimed in distaste over the style and state of his clothes and hinted strongly that he consider changing into something more appropriate. Knowing her, she would find some tactful way to bring it up anyway.
“We just heard about Alasia on our way here,” Korram told his family. “I can hardly believe it! We have to talk about what to do now. Let’s send for Arden; he always has good ideas.”
Mother and Kalendria looked at each other. “Arden is … not available,” Kalendria told him.
“What do you mean?” Korram stared from one to the other, alarmed. “Rampus can’t have …”
“Rampus had him locked in the dungeon,” his mother told him soberly. “He threw a big banquet to celebrate his successful Invasion of Alasia, and Arden was supposed to provide the entertainment. But the song he sang was all about what a tyrant the regent is and how he deserves defeat and humiliation.”
Kalendria giggled. “It was a really funny song, but nobody dared to laugh at the time. And of course Rampus was furious. I had never realized Arden was so brave – he kept on strumming his malute and singing right up until the guards grabbed his arms and dragged him out of the room. Even when he couldn’t play anymore, we could still hear him belting out the chorus all the way down the hall.”
Though relieved that Arden wasn’t dead, Korram was indignant at the thought of his friend languishing in the dungeon. What would he have done without Arden in the years since his father had died? Who would have taught him about courage and honor and perseverance? Who would have inspired him with stories of all he could accomplish, made him look forward to all the good he could do for the kingdom someday? Who would have helped him understand that the way people acted wasn’t always the way they were on the inside, and that Regent Rampus didn’t have the royal family’s best interests at heart?
“Why haven’t you had him released?” Korram demanded.
“The guards don’t listen to us anymore,” his mother replied simply. “It seems that nearly everyone is in Rampus’s pay now.”
“Sometimes it almost feels as though we’re prisoners ourselves,” Kalendria confided. “The guards and servants do what we say as long as it matches with what Rampus wants, but the moment we try to go against one of his orders, it’s as though we’re commoners, not royalty.”
“How dare anyone treat you that way?” On an impulse, Korram jumped to his feet. “I’m going down to set Arden free. Rampus isn’t here, and I’m the crown prince. Nobody who claims to be loyal to Malorn can possibly have an excuse to disobey me.” And I will not leave my friend and mentor down there a moment longer than necessary.
“You’ll have a better chance of success dressed in your palace clothes,” his mother suggested gently as he headed for the door. “It wouldn’t hurt to bathe first, either.” When Korram hesitated, she added, “He’s been down there nearly three weeks already. Another half hour won’t make much difference.” She smiled at Thel and Ernth. “While Korram is at it, perhaps the two of you would like to freshen up as well. Why don’t I call some attendants and have them prepare guest rooms with baths and changes of clothes?”
It felt strange to be dressed as a Lowlander again. Korram couldn’t decide if he liked the feeling or not. The wool tunic and breeches were softer and lighter than the deerskin and snowcat fur he had grown accustomed to, but they weren’t as warm, and they certainly wouldn’t be waterproof. Not that that mattered indoors, of course. What did matter was whether he could command respect from the palace guards, and that was much likelier now.
He rubbed at his dripping hair with a towel and dragged a comb through it, tugging out the tangles that had been accumulating since summer. Normally he didn’t particularly care how he looked, but Mother was always reminding h
im that he was royalty and appearance was important. Well, he did know how to make himself look royal when he wanted to.
Korram pulled a pair of Lowland-style boots out of a cupboard, shiny black from the last time some servant had polished them. He lugged an armful of coats and cloaks from the closet and dumped them on his bed, sorting through them in search of something regal-looking. Personally, he preferred more casual clothes, but Mother saw to it that he always had a few formal items available for important occasions. Finally he pulled a red velvet coat with gold buttons and trim from the pile.
The door opened and Ernth appeared, wrapped in a blanket and looking grumpy. “There you are. Those Lowlanders stole my clothes while I was bathing!”
“Who, the servants?” Korram shrugged on the scarlet coat and buttoned it up. “They took mine too. They’re just going to wash them; we’ll get them back tomorrow.”
“What am I supposed to wear in the meantime?” Ernth demanded, pulling the blanket more tightly around himself. He plopped down on the floor in front of the fire, scowling accusingly at Korram.
“Didn’t they leave you any new clothes? Mother said she would ask them to.”
“Well, they can’t expect me to put on those Lowlander things.”
Korram laughed as he sat down on the pile of garments and shoved his feet into the boots. “You’d better put something on if you want to come with me to the dungeon. I’m almost ready to go try to get my friend Arden released. Who knows, maybe the guards will give me trouble and you’ll have a chance to save my life.”
Korram was joking, but Ernth rose to his feet with a sigh and shuffled back out toward the guest room he had been assigned.
Korram strapped on his second best sword and rummaged through his drawers searching for one more item to give him the princely look he wanted. At last he found something that he had only ever worn at his mother’s insistence: a gold circlet set with clusters of rubies and emeralds. It wasn’t as fancy as the crown that would be his in a couple more months, but it would serve to remind people that he was royalty and had better be treated as such. Kalendria owned a similar circlet that she wore every chance she got, and though Korram didn’t share his sister’s taste for finery, he could acknowledge that it had its uses.
Prince of Malorn (Annals of Alasia Book 3) Page 37
