“He escaped.” Rebecca swallowed. No need to go into all the details. “He stayed behind to watch Mouthrot and Shreb.”
“But he let you come ahead alone?” Aldo’s eyes flared green.
“No! I came with Benjamin, as you ordered.” Rebecca placed a calming hand on his chest. The king looked past Rebecca and scrutinized the two young men standing behind her. “And Denny. They are both proven and loyal friends.”
“They are mere boys!” The king tugged on his tunic as he looked to his secretary for an explanation. The crook-backed man narrowed his eyes at the boys.
Benjamin and Denny both bristled at the description. Dally laid a firm hand on Benjamin’s shoulder to silence his protest. He raised his chin higher but did not speak.
“Benjamin and Denny allowed me to travel discreetly across the Thieves’ Plain when all roads were closed by Mouthrot’s men!” Her heart pounded in her ears, and she knotted her hands together to keep them from trembling. “Mouthrot had sent an assassin after me. I escaped unharmed, but marauders were combing the countryside looking for me.”
“How did Mouthrot know anything about you?” With firm hands on her shoulders, King Aldo turned Rebecca to face him.
Breathless and dizzy, Rebecca glanced toward Benjamin, whose eyes were focused elsewhere. She took a step toward Aldo. “I’ve also come here to let you know that this danger is aimed at you as well. Mouthrot wants the throne.”
The king furrowed his brow at her, deepening the line that was already there. He was unimpressed with her clumsy dodge of his question, but she refused to admit defeat. She was safe now, and that was all he was going to know. He smoothed his beard with his long fingers and glanced toward his secretary.
“Yes, well, there is always danger aimed at the king.” He tried to peer into Rebecca’s silence for answers. He looked far away for a moment before he returned his attention to Rebecca. “Please don’t think that I do not take your warning seriously. Mouthrot should always be taken seriously, even when he’s supposed to be dead, apparently.”
Aldo turned an eye to the black-robed man, running a finger down his beard. “There’s little I can do. I cannot simply march into the Thieves’ Plain without upsetting the fragile balance of my kingdom. Lam is teetering more than usual at the moment.”
King Aldo turned to the young men, while pulling Rebecca gently to his side.
“Forgive my alarm. I’ve had great anxiety about the princess’s safety. She is the only family I have left and is ultimately my responsibility. I took a great risk allowing her to dwell so far away from me. Thank you, Benjamin and Denny, for bringing the princess safely here.”
She let out a breath as she watched them bow in return. Benjamin tapped his chin in thought, however. Heavy bands squeezed around her chest.
“Your Majesty.” Benjamin bowed again. “It is an honor to meet my father’s greatest supporter.”
Rebecca bit her lip and forced a smile as she glared a warning. But Benjamin kept his eyes focused solely on the king, ignoring her silent pleas to shut his mouth.
“Your father?” The king glanced at his secretary.
“The man we all so affectionately call the Lieutenant,” Benjamin said.
The king’s face went slack, and his hunched secretary swooped to his elbow. After a brief whispered conversation, he addressed Benjamin in a low voice. “So Torrin has a son after all. He must be greatly relieved to have found you. Welcome. We must strongly urge you to not speak any of his names here in the castle.” His eyebrows knitted together. “Unfortunately, secrecy is sometimes needed for the security and stability of the kingdom.”
“A kingdom held loosely together with butcher’s string. It is the unstable relationship between Lam’s two halves that is the greatest threat to the kingdom’s security and stability.” Benjamin lifted his chin, pressing his shoulders back. “Forgive me for speaking plainly. This may be my only audience with you, and this must be said.”
The secretary stepped from the king’s shadow to scold Benjamin, but the king raised his hand.
“While the kingdom of Lam claims the Thieves’ Plain, no one there recognizes its authority over them, since Lam is silent through all of their suffering.” Benjamin leaned forward onto his toes and held the king’s gaze. “All revolves around whatever tyrants sit highest on their self-made thrones. The peasants suffer under the whims of archvillains at war—villains, I might add, your father exiled to the plain in a desperate attempt to save his crown from the noblemen who plotted tirelessly against him. King Zavier hoped they would destroy each other, which they did. But now, the few left over can focus their attention back to the king’s throne.
Benjamin took a breath. “And while many may laugh at Shreb, I assure you his goals are just as ambitious as Mouthrot’s. There will be all-out war in this country. It is time to end the cease fire and purge the infection before it kills us all.”
Rebecca felt King Aldo’s arm stiffen against her shoulders throughout Benjamin’s speech. Her own hands were clenched into fists at her side, dreading every word he said, but even more afraid of his silence. Something horrible would happen once he was finished.
The king’s arm fell from Rebecca’s shoulder as he stepped a mere breath away from Benjamin. Aldo was a good head taller than the young man, but Benjamin met the king’s gaze without flinching.
“I am not a thief, and I will hold to the letter of the law!” Aldo stepped back to examine Benjamin. “Where did your father find you? Where did you learn such a complete lack of respect when standing before your king and lord?”
“I graduated with honors from the Villains’ Academy, Your Majesty.” Benjamin bowed with extra flourish.
THIRTY SIX
It was a surprisingly quick trip to the dungeons. The cells simply weren’t deep enough to be cold and damp. When he got out of here, he would have to suggest improvements.
Benjamin sighed and pulled out his notebook to sketch a map of the dungeons for later reference. If working for the king only got people ignored and overlooked, it was surprising that everyone hadn’t turn to villainy. At least people listened as you demanded their purses and personal property at knifepoint. Benjamin sat on the cot, but Denny shoved him off.
“You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut?” Denny growled. “If we swing for this, I’ll kill you.”
“Relax. Look how clean these cells are. We’ll be fine.” Benjamin rubbed his arm. It still stung. “At the worst, he’ll toss us out, and we’ll head back to the Lieutenant. Then we can really get things done.”
Denny groaned and flopped down on the cot. “I’m sure ending up in the king’s dungeons is just another rung on the ladder for you. But for me…oh, just shut up!” Denny turned sharply to the wall.
“No, ending up in a dungeon is typically a bad thing, unless you escape. A great escape story can open doors! But in our case, it would only make things worse for us.” Benjamin flipped to a blank page.
“Do you think?” Denny’s voice was muffled in the sleeve of his shirt.
“Which is too bad because I think I could get out of here.”
“Shut up!”
“I wonder how many different ways I could escape. It’s always a good idea to have a backup plan.”
Denny spun around and stared at Benjamin, livid. “Yes, please escape so I can have silence!”
Benjamin sat down and leaned against the bars, tucking his book away to examine Denny, who was bent over with his hair gripped in his fists. “Why don’t we talk about why you’re really upset?” He casually inspected his nails.
“You mean I’m not really upset about being thrown into the dungeons because of your mouth?” Denny glared up at him.
“You weren’t in a dungeon as we climbed over the mountain. Or were you?” Benjamin laced his fingers together and set them in his lap.
Denny’s eyes went cold. “Shut! Up!” He jumped up and paced, clenching and unclenching his fists.
Benjamin swallowed. Hopefully
, things wouldn’t come to blows. Denny definitely had the advantage there.
Well, they were going to be here for a while. Benjamin could wait for the vein in the older boy’s neck to stop bulging. He leaned back and closed his eyes. Were all good guys in denial of their base desires? Admit them and move on. Before any good villain could do anything, he had to acknowledge his desires, come up with a plan, and then work the plan.
As he waited, Benjamin examined the bars, the hinges, and the lock. He cataloged their resources, which included their clothes, the cot, a blanket—and the key in his pocket. The guards were so quick to throw him in the dungeons that no one thought to check his pockets. Big mistake. He probably wouldn’t need it, since Rebecca would get them released eventually. While Benjamin definitely drove her crazy, she liked Denny. So he worked out several plans.
Breakfast was a simple fare of cabbage soup and bread. If word got out how nice it was down here, people from the Thieves’ Plain would line up to offend the king.
Denny chewed silently, staring at the bars.
“Denny, what’s bothering you?” Benjamin sighed. He was bored of mapping out escape plans.
“I’m not talking about it with you!” Denny scowled.
“I’ll just say it then.” Benjamin took a breath and waited. “Fine. Your future plans hit an unexpected wall. As the heir apparent, Rebecca is out of your reach.”
Denny’s back went rigid. Benjamin smiled and tried to look sympathetic.
“I can’t stand seeing you so glum. Aldo looks to be in good health and not so old. He could marry again. There have been rumors. Any offspring would naturally bump Rebecca out of the running. And so what if Rebecca becomes queen? She makes the rules, right?”
Denny turned to him. His face twisted in an attempt to lock his emotions out of sight.
“You’re going to sit there and act like you—the great Benjamin—don’t care? That you don’t care for Rebecca…or for the Lieutenant? You’ve just walked into this perfect situation. The long-lost son found just in time to fit into a role complete with future bride, titles, and land, with a father who has wanted only one thing for many years? That would be you, by the way.” His voice shook. He looked down at the stone floor. “And you’re just going to walk away from it all, aren’t you? All those things that you don’t want but I do.”
Jealous? Of Benjamin? “I’m not interested in Rebecca. Plus, she’s connected to the crown.” Benjamin threw his hands up in the air. “Besides, she has no interest in me.”
“Are you so sure about that?”
“Yes! We’ve come to a mutual respect for our dislike of each other. Trust me. She’s all yours.”
“That’s not what I see.”
“Well, you’re crazy!”
Benjamin kicked all the straw across the floor into a pile and sat down on it. He clenched his fists until his fingernails dug into his flesh. His jaws ground into a locked position. What did Denny know about his life and what options he should or should not embrace? How did everything get so messed up in such a short time?
The next time I see a one-eyed old man, Benjamin admitted grimly, I’m running the other way.
THIRTY SEVEN
After what seemed like hours, the guard showed up with the king’s black-robed secretary, who was introduced as Secretary Branwen. To cover his excitement, Benjamin lowered his head meekly. He tried to look bored.
Denny stood up. The secretary paused to examine them. The guard brought in another lantern. The man’s robes rustled across the floor as he circled around the young men. Benjamin stood so that the man could see him better. With his hunch, Branwen was at eye level with Benjamin. The secretary stood so close to Benjamin as he examined him that he could feel Branwen’s heavy robes rub across his boots. Benjamin met the man’s stare and saw acute intelligence, with a touch of amusement, in his eyes.
“A few brash words from a presumptuous young man can usually be tamed by a simple look from the king.” The man stepped back, tapped his chin, and looked at both boys. He turned to the guard. “You may leave; I think I’ll be safe with these young men.”
The guard nodded and hung the lantern before he left, leaving the door open.
“But you, Benjamin Black, caused the king to shudder. That is why you and your friend are now in the dungeons. However, I believe that was your intent.”
“Unbelievable,” Denny mumbled.
“I heard you had lovely dungeons. These may be the nicest ones in the kingdom.”
“Ah, but these are the nice ones.” The bent man smiled wickedly. “The not-nice ones are much damper, darker, and much less comfortable.”
“I have nothing to do with him,” Denny interjected. “I’m just here to see Re—the princess safely to the castle.”
The secretary raised a white eyebrow. “And why are you here, Benjamin? If he came to get the princess here, what are you here to do?”
Benjamin examined the hump. It looked real enough. “It’s time to move forward. The Thieves’ Plain served its purpose, and now both sides are ready for this truce to be over.”
“War and chaos, then?”
“This truce is a war between two sides that refuse to look at each other. That doesn’t mean there isn’t pain and suffering. We just refuse to see it.” He took a breath to help him say what he did not want to. “Only when men like Mouthrot and Shreb are brought under the law will we have peace and prosperity. The king’s father made the truce, because it was the only way to save the kingdom. Now the only way to save Lam is to break that truce. Mouthrot broke the truce when he killed Rebecca’s parents ten years ago and committed an act of war in trying to kill Rebecca.”
“This from Benjamin Black, son of Black-Eyed Barnaby, head of his class at the Villains’ Academy and applicant to the Mighty Shreb? The boy who wanted to be the best villain’s assistant that the plain has ever seen? Better than your own father?”
Cold sweat prickled at Benjamin’s scalp. The Master of Spies network was more thorough than he’d imagined. The secretary continued to circle Benjamin, only his white hair visible as he lurched into the shadows between the two lanterns. He wanted something from Benjamin, something specific. Perhaps his soul? Would he let him have it?
“My father doesn’t really exist, does he? Fiction from start to finish,” Benjamin said, refusing to turn and face Branwen, who stood behind him.
“No, no, he wasn’t. You have a father, but who is he? Black-Eyed Barnaby? Or Torrin, Duke of Gehnry?”
Duke? “It doesn’t matter. Neither man exists.” Heat threatened to burn out Benjamin’s heart. He squeezed his hands behind his back. “The only man I’ve seen is the Lieutenant, and he’s nothing but a ghost trapped in purgatory compliments of his king. He is no one.”
“But it does matter.” The hump bobbed up and down as the secretary circled to face him. “Black-Eyed Barnaby, the famed villain’s assistant, or Torrin, the Duke of Gehnry?”
Heat rose to Benjamin’s face. The secretary’s pale eyes waited eagerly to pounce on Benjamin’s answer. An answer he didn’t have.
“Villain’s assistant or duke?” The secretary’s voice skewered him, his eyes widened in earnest. “Who do you chose as your father? Villain’s assistant or duke?”
Ice ran under Benjamin’s skin. His arms grew stiff and he shivered, though the cell was not cold. He clenched his fists together to keep them from shaking.
“It’s a simple question, Benjamin. Villain’s assistant or duke? What are you going to be? You could go either way; both doors stand open before you. Which will you choose?”
“I don’t know!” Benjamin wrapped his arms around himself to try to still the shivers that rolled down his body.
The secretary’s pale eyes flashed in response. Silence filled the cell. Denny shuffled his feet.
“That’s not good enough.” Branwen turned to Denny and waved him to the door. “You, young man, may go. The princess is waiting for you.”
The cell was left dark and empt
y except for Benjamin, whose shivers had turned violent. He rubbed his arms and lurched around the cell.
What just happened?
They all had asked so much from him already. Why did they need this as well? To choose? No, he could not choose.
THIRTY EIGHT
Rebecca paced, twisting the ends of her silk sleeves. Dally watched the princess as she fitted a jeweled veil to a cap. Dally had been weaving scarves and reworking old hats all morning. Occasionally, Dally would order her to stop wearing a hole in the floor and try out her creations. When her fidgeting grew unbearable for both of them, she would release her.
“You’ve done all that you can,” Dally said. “They’ll get out. Secretary Branwen will probably let them sweat first, but he’ll let them out. You’re making yourself sick for nothing.”
Rebecca collapsed in a soft chair and closed her eyes as she rubbed the knot in her chest. Dally was right, but it was taking too long. Mouthrot could be burning the entire Thieves’ Plain or marching on Ulmer Castle right now! The Lieutenant and Odie could be captured or worse. And she was left simply trying on hats and gowns.
How could the king be so slow? He wanted her here to be safe, but that was not how she felt. She was locked in her rooms, her very presence a secret from conspiring noblemen. Everyone was fixated on the ascension and nothing else. Benjamin had no idea how broken this kingdom really was.
On top of everything else, Jalene, the king’s future wife, was in the castle. They had been secretly courting for the last year, and their engagement would soon be announced. Jalene was young, healthy, and came from great breeding stock. King Aldo needed heirs, with the emphasis on more than one. Rebecca was the backup plan if an heir wasn’t produced from their union.
The most preferred plan would have been for Queen Lorrina and her son to survive childbirth twenty years ago. Aldo had been devastated by her death and had even dismissed one counselor for suggesting possible brides. But when half of one’s nobles plotted to steal one’s throne and the other half connived to get themselves named as the heir apparent, even the most reluctant king could be forced to take action. Rebecca cheered for Jalene and her rumored fruitfulness. The more babies between her and the crown, the better. She would gladly be the old supportive aunt from behind the scenes. She might go back to her father’s castle and rebuild it in honor of the king and all his heirs: a castle built to defend and protect the crown, safely ensconced in the Sunset Mountains.
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