Treason Keep

meant something.

“Treachery...” he gasped. “Priests... tricked us...”

“I’ll tell her,” Tarja promised as he made to stand up.

The man grabbed his arm with a final burst of desperate strength. “You must... warn her...”

“I will,” he said soothingly. “I’ll see if I can get a letter to her.”

The young captain shook his head. “No... warn her...”

“Warn her,” Tarja agreed. “What’s her name?”

The Fardohnyan closed his eyes and for a moment, Tarja thought he was dead, but then his chest heaved and he coughed a stream of bright blood, as his sword-pierced lung tried to cling to life. He muttered something, a name Tarja could barely make out. He leaned closed as the young man tried to speak with the last breath left in him.

“Adrina.”

The name took all his remaining strength and with a gasp, the light went out of his unusual golden eyes.

Chapter 28

Adrina woke to the sounds of battle. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say the silence woke her. The Karien camp, which was, even at its quietest, a bustling and noisy place, was ominously still. She lay in bed for a time, listening to the silence, wondering what it meant. As sleep gave way to wakefulness, she sat up with a start and pushed back the heavy embroidered curtains around the bed.

“Your Highness?”

Mikel looked up sleepily from his pallet near the brazier when he heard her moving about. The boy had been a permanent fixture since she had rescued him from the war council. Laetho had long replaced him as a page, so Adrina had considerately taken him on. He adored her, although he was obviously suffering under the misconception that she was some sort of living saint. It suited her to let him think that. He was a veritable fountain of information about the Medalonians and she figured she knew more about them than any other person in the Karien camp.

The child had given her some remarkable intelligence, which she fed the war council piecemeal to ensure her continuing presence. Sooner or later, Cratyn was bound to give into the Dukes’ pressure to exclude her, agreement or no agreement. Adrina was not one for relying on others when she could do the job better herself. If all it took to ensure Mikel’s continuing trust was letting him think she was the walking embodiment of Karien holiness, then she would bestow her blessing on him cheerfully. Besides, he reminded her of her youngest half-brother, Kander. Sometimes it was nice to have somebody around who loved you, just because you were you. She had actually grown quite fond of the boy. Tamylan, with her usual lack of tact, had rudely accused her of using him as a replacement for her lost dog.

“Mikel, go ask the guard why it’s so quiet,” she ordered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

The boy scrambled from his pallet, pulled on his boots and disappeared outside with a hasty bow. Adrina stretched luxuriously, rather glad she had insisted on the huge feather bed being dragged to the front. She could have done without the heavily embroidered star and lightning bolt on the curtains, she thought sourly, but they did keep out the cold. Perhaps the Overlord was looking after her. In a roundabout, materialistic sort of way.

“They’re fighting!” Mikel burst out, running through the tent flap, his eyes burning with excitement. “We attacked at dawn!”

Adrina frowned. She had been invited to no war council last night. Nobody had mentioned attacking the Medalonians this morning. “Fetch Tamylan and then find us some breakfast. I want to get dressed.”

Mikel bobbed his head and raced outside again. He obviously considered war a grand pursuit. She wondered if he would be quite so enthusiastic once the casualties started coming in.

Tam was quick to respond, although when she entered the tent, her expression was grim. But she had obviously been up and about for a while.

“They left before dawn,” Tam explained, before Adrina could frame the question. “Tristan and his men went with them.”

Adrina was stunned. “Tristan? How? He’s my captain! Cratyn can’t order him anywhere.”

“Vonulus came for him,” Tam told her as she helped Adrina pull her gown over her undershift. “I didn’t hear what he said to Tristan, but it was enough to get him moving. He told me to tell you he’d report to you tonight.”

“What in the Seven Hells could Vonulus say to him that would make him follow Cratyn?” she wondered aloud.

“He didn’t say,” Tam shrugged. “With Vonulus just outside the tent, I don’t think he wanted to give away my presence, but all the troops were gathered to pray to the Overlord for hours before the battle.”

Adrina looked at Tam curiously. “He didn’t want to betray you to Vonulus? That’s remarkably considerate of him,” she said. Tamylan actually blushed. “Oh Tam, please tell me you’re not falling in love with him!”

“Don’t be absurd!” Tam scoffed, turning Adrina around with more force than was absolutely necessary to lace her gown. “You ordered me to become his lover. I simply do as I’m told. Slaves have a tendency to act that way.”

Adrina looked over her shoulder. “A duty you have carried out with great attention to detail, I see.”

Tam pulled on the laces so hard, Adrina grunted. “I am your loyal servant, your Highness.”

“You know my father is likely to legitimise him if he fails to get an heir, don’t you?” she asked. News had reached them in Yarnarrow that Hablet’s eighth wife had delivered another tiresome girl child. “He’s always been one of Hablet’s favourites and the more trouble he gets into, the more Father likes him. Tristan could never marry you, of course, but you could have a very rosy future as a favoured court’esa, if you play your hand right. Quite a step up for a slave girl.”

“You are reading far too much into this. Tristan and I... we are simply doing your bidding.”

“Of course,” Adrina agreed with a smile.

For some reason the idea of Tristan and Tamylan falling in love made her very happy. She loved Tam, as much as one could love a slave, and Tristan was perhaps the only person in the world she loved unreservedly, with no thought for what he could do for her, or she for him. It was the curse of her birthright.

Adrina knew she was always going to be a stepping stone for others. Every suitor Hablet had ever proposed had been a grasping fortune hunter, although some had disguised it better than others. Cratyn had been the first suitor who matched her for title or position, but even he had plans to use her.

As a child, Adrina had prayed to Kalianah, the Goddess of Love, for a man who would fall madly in love with her, not her position, or the wealth she could bring him. She had realised the futility of her prayers soon enough, once she understood that as Hablet’s eldest legitimate child, she had no equal in Fardohnya. No equal in the world perhaps, with the exception of the younger Prince Cratyn in Karien and the heir to the throne in far away Hythria, who was undoubtedly as corrupt and perverted as his uncle, the High Prince Lernen. No, her prince would never come for her, she knew. Instead, it was a grubby line of lordlings each dreaming of the prestige attached to making her his wife. He’d be dreaming of the wealth, the land and the titles that Hablet would bestow on him for taking her off his hands.

She had adroitly avoided such a fate by being a harridan. Considering how greedy some of her would-be suitors had been it had taken quite an effort on Adrina’s part for them to finally decide that no amount of money or titles could compensate them for having to live with her. Eventually, the offers had dried up. Hablet had plenty of other daughters who were much more amenable than the dreaded Adrina.

Until Cratyn.

Until, through her own recklessness, she had left herself vulnerable.

She sighed, pleased that at least Tam had found love. Being a bastard gave Tristan more freedom than she