Treason Keep

Adrina suddenly felt faint.

Her mouth went dry as Damin Wolfblade rode up beside her, so close his stirrup touched hers. He was nothing like the powdered courtier she imagined. He was big and dirty and unshaven and looked meaner than King Jasnoff’s most vicious hunting hound.

For a fleeting moment, she wished she had never left Karien.

Damin Wolfblade looked at her closely. He did not look surprised to discover her identity. She realised with despair that they had suspected all along who she was. That nonsense about ten rivets a turn was obviously his misguided idea of a joke.

“Your Highness.” He bowed with surprising grace, but it was the short bow of an equal, not a mere Warlord greeting a royal princess.

“Lord Wolfblade.” Adrina marvelled at how steady she sounded.

“Tarja, allow me to introduce Her Serene Highness, Princess Adrina of Fardohnya, or is it Her Royal Highness, Princess Adrina of Karien, these days? It’s so hard to keep track of these things.”

“Move away from me, sir,” she said in a voice that was colder than the Fourth Hell.

Wolfblade smiled. “What do you think, Tarja? Will we get more by selling her back to the Kariens or her father?”

“I’ll kill you if you touch her!” Mikel screamed.

“You!” The Defender glared at the child and Mikel cowered under his scrutiny. “Founders, how did you get here, boy? I thought we’d seen the last of you!”

“You coward! How dare you pick on a helpless child! As for you,” she added witheringly to the Warlord, “I refuse to be your hostage!”

“You refuse to be my hostage? I don’t recall asking your permission, your Highness.”

“Don’t take that tone with me, sir. I am a Fardohnyan princess of royal blood!”

“Quite a step up from a court’esa,” the Defender remarked, not in the least impressed by her declaration.

This was not going well at all. She could not afford to be a hostage. The first thing they would do was send a message to Cratyn demanding the gods alone knew what in return for her release. At that moment, Adrina did not care if the war raged on for another hundred years.

She was not going back to Karien.

“I refuse to be your hostage, my Lord, because I am seeking asylum,” she announced, the plan formulating in her mind as she spoke.

The Warlord made no effort to hide his astonishment, or his disbelief. “Asylum?”

“But, your Highness...” Mikel began with a horrified gasp.

“Be quiet, child!”

“You expect me to believe you are running away?”

“I am not running away, my Lord, I am altering the terms of the Karien- Fardohnyan Treaty. The Kariens have not kept their side of the bargain, therefore I do not feel compelled to keep mine.”

“I’d call that running away,” Tarja chuckled.

Damin Wolfblade shook his head, clearly not believing a word she said. “And what is it you want in return for asylum, your Highness?”

“Safe passage to Fardohnya in a manner befitting my station.”

“Is that all?” Tarja asked with a sceptical laugh.

“Safe passage to Fardohnya? So you can get together with your father and stir up even more trouble? I don’t think so, your Highness. Do we look that foolish?”

“You question my word, sir? How dare you! I am a princess!”

“You’re Hablet’s daughter,” he corrected. “That makes every word you utter suspect.”

She was going to have to put this man in his place, sooner rather than later. “I will not sit here and be insulted by a barbarian! I insist you take me to the Lord Defender this minute, so that I may present my case to someone with a better understanding of protocol than a savage, such as yourself!”

Damin Wolfblade laughed at her. Adrina loftily ignored him and turned to Tarja Tenragan.

“The boy is under my protection and so is my slave. They will remain with me, so that I may have some basic level of service. You will agree to consult me regarding any offer of ransom made on my behalf. And under no circumstances, will I agree to return to Karien. Is that quite clear?”

Her list of demands seemed to startle him. Wolfblade exchanged a glance with the Medalonian before turning to her. “You may keep your slave, your Highness. As for the boy, his fate will be up to Captain Tenragan.”

“And the rest of my demands?”

The Warlord laughed. “Demands? You are our prisoner, your Highness. You’re not at liberty to make demands. But I’ll promise you one thing. Give us any trouble at all, and I will see that you learn what it is to wear the collar of a bound court’esa. Is that quite clear?” He turned his horse away from her before she could frame a suitable retort. “Put the boy on his own horse. He’s old enough to ride without a nursemaid.”

A Raider rode forward and snatched Mikel from Tamylan’s arms. Other hands took the reins of her mount, leaving her nothing to do but cling to the pommel as, surrounded by the Hythrun, she rode toward a crumbling ruin that must be their command post.

Adrina chewed on her bottom lip and wondered if she’d done the right thing, admitting she was trying to get home. Damin Wolfblade clearly did not believe her, but Tarja Tenragan was hard to read. Perhaps he would champion her cause? Surely the Medalonians would see the benefit in letting her go? Her arrival in Talabar was bound to destroy the treaty.

On the other hand, returning her to Karien would be almost as effective. They could demand any number of concessions from Cratyn. She stared at the backs of the two men in whose hands her fate now rested, and realised her only protection lay in making them want to shield her from Cratyn’s wrath.

Adrina realised that she was going to have to change her tune.

She was going to have to be nice.

She wondered, for a moment, if she remembered how.

Chapter 33

“What in the name of the Founders are we supposed to do with her?”

Jenga paced the hall, hands clasped behind his back, his brow furrowed with concern. He had hoped for sleep on his return to the Keep. He had not planned on the discovery that Tarja and Damin had captured a court’esa who turned out to be the Crown Princess of Karien.

“My suggestion is that whatever you do, you do it quickly. You don’t want her around causing trouble, my Lord, and believe me, she will cause trouble.” Damin spoke from the heart, never more certain of anything.

“She’s well guarded,” Tarja pointed out.

Damin laughed sceptically. “Then make sure you change them often. In a week, she’ll have every man she comes in contact with eating out of her hand. A week after that they’ll be helping her escape. It’s a good thing we searched her saddlebags. There’s enough here to buy more than a few men’s souls.” He glanced at the fortune in jewellery scattered on the rough wooden table. The blue diamond alone would feed a small village for a year.

“You claimed she was a shrew,” Jenga said, stopping his pacing for a moment to glance at the gems. The torches painted dark shadows over his lined face.