but be quick about it.”
Mikel ran towards the fire and the enticing smell of the hot soup, wondering where the youth had gone so abruptly. Then he remembered his rash prayer and hoped that the Overlord had not heard his request about the dysentery.
Mid-afternoon, two Defenders appeared in the corrals and told Monthay that Captain Tenragan wanted to see the Karien boy. Monthay muttered a curse and surrendered him reluctantly, glancing at the hay still to be distributed. The two Defenders took Mikel into custody and walked him back toward the Keep. They said nothing, even to each other, leaving Mikel plenty of time to imagine the worst.
When they reached the old keep, they took him into the main hall where Tarja was waiting near the huge fireplace. Damin Wolfblade was sitting at the table, stabbing the tabletop with his dagger as if something vexed him. Captain Almodavar stood near Tarja and next to him, to Mikel’s astonishment, was his brother.
“Jaymes!”
Mikel ran the length of the hall, skidding to a halt a few steps from his brother, taking a quick inventory to check he had all his fingers. Jaymes grinned and crossed the small distance between them, hugging his younger brother warmly.
“They told me you were back, but I wanted to see for myself!”
“Oh Jaymes! I’ve been so worried about you! Are you well? Have they harmed you?”
“Of course not!” Jaymes laughed. “I’m the one who’s been worrying about you! What happened when you went back to Lord Laetho?”
Mikel glanced at the men and then back at Jaymes. His brother was taller, as if he had grown from a boy into a young man while in captivity. He looked well; much too well for a prisoner. “I’ll tell you later.”
“There won’t be a later, lad,” Almodavar warned. “Jaymes has work to do.”
“He’s right. I have to get back. My training keeps me pretty busy. But I’ll try to see you now and then, if I can get away.”
“Training?”
“I’m learning to be a soldier.”
Mikel took a step backwards. “With the Hythrun?”
“Of course, with the Hythrun.”
“You’re a
“I warned you,” Damin muttered to no one in particular, stabbing the table to punctuate his words.
Jaymes sighed. “It’s not like that, Mikel...”
“Have you turned from the Overlord, too? Do you worship the Primal gods now? How
“The Overlord? What do I care about the Overlord! I want to be a soldier, Mikel! I can’t ever be a knight in Karien. I’m a commoner. Good for nothing but a pikeman. But the Hythrun don’t care about that. They judge men by their ability, not who their father is.”
“Our father is the Duke of Kirkland’s Third Steward!”
“Which is worth shit, and you know it!”
Tears of anger and betrayal clouded Mikel’s vision. He could not believe what he was hearing.
“What have you done to him?” he demanded of Tarja, although the Medalonian had not had charge of his brother. Tarja had, however, been responsible for most of his woes these past few months so it seemed reasonable to blame him for this, too.
“Your brother made his own choice, boy.”
“You’ve done something to him! Jaymes would never betray Karien! He would never renounce the Overlord!”
“Grow up, Mikel,” Jaymes sighed. “The Overlord doesn’t care about the likes of you and me. He’s the God of Lords and Princes. All he ever did for us was make us work for
“You can go.”
Jaymes glanced at Mikel and shook his head. “I’m sorry, little brother...”
Mikel refused to look at him. “I have no brother.”
“Maybe when you’re older, Mikel, you’ll understand.”
He turned his back as Jaymes and the Hythrun captain walked the length of the hall. When he heard the door shut, he wiped his eyes and looked up at Tarja.
“Can I go, too?”
“No, you may not. You’re going to tell us about the princess.”
Jaymes’ betrayal was suddenly forgotten. He glared at Tarja, drawing himself up to his full height. “If you have harmed one hair on her head...”
“Oh for the god’s sake, child, settle down!” Damin snapped. “Your precious princess is fine.”
“I shall not betray my Lady!”
“Nobody is asking you to,” Tarja pointed out reasonably. “We just want to know how you came to be in her company.”
“I was appointed her page. By Prince Cratyn himself!”
“I see. That’s quite a position of trust.”
“Prince Cratyn trusts me.”
“He must trust you a great deal, to ask you to escort her Highness through Medalon when your nation is at war with us.”
Mikel was still young enough that flattery, even from a man he despised, made his heart swell proudly. “Prince Cratyn knew that I would not betray him. No spy...”
“Spy?” Damin asked, glancing up from the tabletop. “What spy?”
Mikel took a step backwards, frowning warily. “I said nothing about a spy.”
Damin looked at Tarja and shrugged. “Send him back to the horses, Tarja. Adrina has already told us everything we want to know. She was trying to escape to Fardohnya to get away from Cratyn and stop her father joining in the war.”
“That’s a lie!” Mikel shouted, horrified that they would think such a thing of the noble princess. “You’re making that up!”
“Not at all,” Tarja told him. “Adrina told us everything.”
“You must have tortured her!”
“If you call mulled wine and a warm fire torture,” Damin said with a faint smile, “Quite the opportunist, your princess, Mikel. She changes sides more often than most people change their clothes.”
“Princess Adrina is the most noble, pious, beautiful woman in the whole world! She’s brave, too!”
“Brave?” Tarja scoffed. “She was running away.”
“She was not! She was going to see her father to get him to send the cannon! So that you would all die!”
Tarja and Damin glanced at each other as Mikel realised what he had blurted out. He wanted to cry. He wished the cold flagstones would open up and swallow him whole. First Jaymes had betrayed him.
Now he had betrayed Adrina.
Chapter 37
“Who do you believe? The boy or the princess?” Jenga paced the hearth, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Gray daylight flooded the hall but the air was crisp, even this close to the fire.
Damin shrugged. “She’s lying. She’s heading for Talabar to bring her father’s cannon into the war. She’s not running away.”
