Treason Keep

useless organ and marched through the camp with it mounted on a pike at that moment, had someone given her a knife.

“Your Highness! This is not an appropriate place to discuss...”

“Your precious prince’s manhood? Or rather, his lack of it. Don’t worry, Lord Palen, the prince’s impotence is no longer an issue because I am going home to Fardohnya, where I plan to inform my father that his son was murdered by a boy prince who defied every law the gods hold sacred by coercing his men in battle. You can forget this damned alliance. There will be no aid, no cannon, no invasion of southern Medalon. You’ll be lucky if Hablet doesn’t invade Karien!”

“Attempting to return to Fardohnya would be extremely foolish, your Highness,” Roache told her, his voice dangerous.

“Don’t you dare think you can threaten me, Lord Roache,” she warned. “I will do as I please. I will escort my brother’s body home where he will be laid to rest on Fardohnyan soil and my father can mourn his loss.”

“Guards!” Roache called. Cratyn looked afraid to take his eyes from her. She could not tell if her threats scared him. Did not care.

“Escort her Highness to her tent,” the Duke ordered as soon as the guards appeared. “She is beside herself with grief and not aware of what she is saying. She is not to leave her quarters unless Prince Cratyn or I expressly order it. Is that clear?”

The guard saluted smartly and waited for Adrina. A small worm of sanity tunnelled through her grief reminding her of where she was. It was only then that she realised the enormity of her error. Roache was a very dangerous man. She had forgotten that in her anger.

“Have a care, your Highness,” he advised. “It would be most unfortunate if we had to advise your father that he had lost a daughter, as well as a son.”

Chapter 29

As she was escorted back to her tent, Adrina cursed her temper. With a few careless words she had destroyed months of hard work convincing the Kariens she had converted to their cause. Roache’s threat was very real. Would they tell her father she had died of grief for her lost brother? Killed herself in despair? Blame a disease caught in the camp?

Whatever the reason, Adrina knew she had to leave this place, and the only hope of escape was across the border into Medalon and the waiting army of Defenders.

Adrina stopped before she entered her tent and took a deep breath. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself down and sob uncontrollably for the loss of her brother. The tragedy of his death staggered her. That such a bright light could be extinguished so easily for the sake of Karien ambition was more than she could bear. But there would be time to grieve for Tristan later. Now was a time for clear thinking. She took another deep breath and entered the tent, a plan half-formulated over the last few weeks slowly taking on a firmer shape in her mind.

Tam and Mikel both leapt to their feet as she stepped inside. Tam’s eyes were red and swollen. Mikel looked very uncomfortable. He did not know how to deal with grieving grown-ups. For a moment, Adrina wondered if he knew how lucky he was that his brother was still a prisoner with the Hythrun. He would not grieve tonight as she would.

“Your Highness?” he said expectantly.

Adrina looked over her shoulder rather dramatically and waved the two of them closer. “I have just met with Prince Cratyn,” she said in a low, conspiratorial voice. “I have grave news.”

“About the battle?”

“Worse! There is a spy in the camp.”

Tam looked at Adrina suspiciously, but Mikel’s young face was a portrait of shock.

“A spy!”

“Sshh!” Adrina urged. “No one must know!” She moved further into the tent, to ensure they were out of hearing of the guards outside. “It is the reason for the massacre today. The Medalonians knew we were coming!” As she watched Mikel lap up every word she uttered, she had time to think that the Medalonians would need to be blind, deaf and completely witless not to notice an army the size of the Karien advancing on them. “Prince Cratyn needs my help. Our help.”

Mikel straightened his shoulders manfully. “What does he want us to do, your Highness?”

She glanced up at Tam, who was looking at her doubtfully. There would be time to explain things later. “I have to deliver a message to my father, the King of Fardohnya. Prince Cratyn needs my father’s cannon to help him defeat the Medalonians.”

Mikel took her at her word. “But how?”

“We must go to Fardohnya,” she explained in a whisper. “We must leave tonight, while both sides are still in confusion after the battle. We will cross into Medalon and make for the Glass River. We should be able to secure a Fardohnyan trader to see us safely back to Talabar from there.”

“Shall I tell the guards to fetch your horse, your Highness?”

“No! Nobody must know about this, Mikel. As I said, there is a spy in the camp. If they learn of this mission, our lives would be in danger!”

“Would be in danger?” Tam asked with a short, bitter laugh. “I’d say they’ll be in danger anyway, traipsing through Medalon in the middle of a war.”

Adrina rolled her eyes. She would never convince Mikel if Tam did not support her. “I do this for my prince,” she declared. “I know there is danger, but who else can convince my father to send the cannon? Cratyn needs my help. How can I refuse my husband?”

Mikel laid a comforting hand on hers. “You are so brave, your Highness. But the Overlord will be with us.”

“That gives me such strength,” she agreed sincerely. “Now you must listen to me carefully, Mikel. Prince Cratyn and I have worked out a plan to see us safely over the border, but it needs your assistance. Will you help me?”

“Of course!”

“And you must guard this secret with your life,” she warned. “We do not want the spy to learn of Prince Cratyn’s plans.”

“I cannot believe that any Karien would betray his countrymen,” Mikel protested.

“You have been among the enemy, Mikel. You have seen how they can eat away at a man’s faith. Not all the Overlord’s subjects are as loyal as you.” She ruffled the child’s head fondly. “Now listen carefully. Prince Cratyn pretended to place me under guard, so that the spy will not note my absence. I need you to seek out a Fardohnyan Lanceman named Filip and give him a note from me. He will see that we have horses. The battlefield will be a busy place tonight, with both sides looking for wounded and the camp followers picking over the dead. We should be able to slip through unnoticed. Once we are past the battlefield, Tam and I will pose as Hythrun court’esa returning home. Nobody will question us if we are careful.”

“What’s a court’esa, your Highness?”

“An entertainer,” Adrina told him blandly. “They are very popular in Hythria and Fardohnya, so nobody should think it odd.”

“I will protect you, anyway,” Mikel assured her. “I’ll not let any harm come to you, your Highness.”

“I know, Mikel. That’s why I insisted Prince Cratyn allow you to accompany me. You have been in the enemy camp and you speak their language. I cannot think of a better protector.” No need to disillusion the child and tell him she spoke Medalonian fluently.

Mikel swelled with pride. “The Overlord will protect us all!”

“I certainly hope so,” she agreed. “Now go and find some warm clothes. It will be cold tonight. I will write the message for Filip. We must leave as soon as it’s dark.”

As soon as the boy had left the tent, Tam turned on Adrina. “Are you mad!”