CHAPTER FIFTEEN
What has a thousand faces, a hundred voices, the conscience of a cur, and the purse of a beggar? A thespian.
Swift as a thought, the dark-clad stranger seized both of Castyll's arms just as the king curled his hands into fists. Friend! Friend! came a cry, but not in Castyll's ears. It hammered in his brain with a truth that could not be denied. Even as his eyes recognized the face inside the cowl as a familiar one, the young king had already opened his hands.
'Good gods!' breathed Castyll. 'Damir! What in the name of-'
'Trying to assist you with what you were obviously planning,' replied the Byrnian ambassador as he climbed swiftly in through the window. He bowed toward the startled Blesser. 'My apologies, my lady.'
'Castyll… who…?' Adara's voice was faint as she glanced from youth to man. 'He is a friend.' Castyll flashed Damir a relieved grin. 'A very welcome friend, at the moment. But Damir… how did you know what I was thinking? Where I was?'
'Your Majesty, when the king goes to become a man under the ministrations of the Blesser of Love, it's hardly a state secret. As for your state of mind-I've known you for some time now, and none of the recent behavior of your country's politics jibes with what I know of its king. But we must hurry. I have several men waiting in the garden area.'
Castyll stared, open-mouthed. 'But… there must be guards everywhere!'
Damir raised an eyebrow, and his thin lips curved into a slight smile. 'I have several very good men,' he amended. 'We have not been noticed. Nor shall we be. My Lady Blesser,' and again he turned to the young woman, 'I'm sorry you had to get involved in all this.'
Adara stuck her chin up in a gesture Castyll was coming to recognize. 'I know what is right.' 'It's my fault,' said Castyll. 'I should have tried to steal away without compromising her.' 'I'm willing to go,' insisted Adara.
'But you do not have to,' said Damir. 'Not if you trust me. I have mind magic,' he added, seeing the confusion on her face. 'I can make you forget what has happened-plant a false memory in its place. This way, when Bhakir brings someone in to mind-read you, you will have nothing to fear. You will be utterly innocent, and able to continue with your duties as Blesser.'
'Can you really do that, Damir?' asked Castyll, somewhat dubious.
Damir nodded. 'And more — if the lady will let me. She can help us, if she will, by following certain instructions not known to her that I will implant. But we must hurry. Every minute we linger increases the risk. Are you willing, lady?' Adara gnawed her lower lip, glancing from one to the other. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. 'Excellent,' said Damir. 'Now, come, sit down on the bed, and close your eyes.'
She did as she was bid. Damir seated himself next to her and placed the fingers of his right hand against her temple. His expression was composed, almost blank, but as Castyll watched, various emotions flitted about Damir's angular face. At one point, the older man's lips curved into a happy smile. Knowing that Damir was reading the Blesser's thoughts-and guessing at what the Blesser was recalling-Castyll blushed.
'Now,' said Damir softly to Adara, 'let us go back. Castyll never spoke to you of his plans. You talked for a bit, then completed the holy ritual. Then you slept in the king's arms. You will awake refreshed when the morning comes, and you will be as startled as anyone else that he has gone. Do you understand?'
Beneath her closed lids, Adara's eyes flickered back and forth. 'Yes,' she said softly. 'Now, Castyll,' said Damir, his eyes still closed, 'do you yet have men loyal to you?'
'Yes,' replied the king swiftly. 'I hope most of them. Bhakir has been careful to keep my imprisonment a secret. I think most of the guards back at Castle Derlian in Jarmair are loyal to me.' 'That is hope speaking,' reprimanded Damir. 'Tell me who you know to be loyal to you unto death.'
Castyll licked his lips thinking hard. Unto death… 'My seneschal. Lord Maren.' 'And who reports to him that you trust?'
'The Captain of the Guards-Kester.'
Damir nodded and leaned over toward Adara again, whispering softly into her ear. Castyll couldn't quite catch the words this time, but it did not matter. Beyond all hope, Damir had come to help him escape.
Damir finished, and gently eased the girl back into her bed. 'Help me remove her clothing,' he said. When Castyll hesitated, overcome with a bout of shyness, the older man said sternly, 'If we want this to work, she can't be found fully dressed in a traveling cloak, now can she?'
Castyll wordlessly conceded the logic of that, and together they removed Adara's clothes. The young king brought the blanket up to her chin, kissed the girl's forehead, and whispered softly, 'I will remember.' He straightened, and this time the redness on his face was from excitement, not embarrassment. 'Let's go.'
They extinguished the lamps and Damir went first. He looked around, then quietly eased himself out the window into the flower beds beneath. He helped Castyll out, wincing as Castyll loudly banged a knee against the wooden sill. At Damir's gesture, Castyll froze.
No sound. They had not been spotted. As his eyes adjusted to the dim night lighting, Castyll was able to see Bhakir's guards. Two were out here, one of whom was clearly asleep at his post. The other was facing away from the house. Castyll suspected there were more in the front of the building. Anger flared in him again, but he pushed it aside.
His eyes attuned to the night now, he found he could also make out three of Damir's men. One sat comfortably in a large tree, a bow with a nocked arrow at the ready in case they were discovered. Other than his dark clothes and the soot smeared on his face, the man made little effort to hide himself. Another black-clad man waited by the stone wall. There were no weapons visible, but Castyll suspected the man was well armed indeed. A third man waited with-of all things-horses at the ready.
Castyll frowned in annoyance. 'Your men may be good, but they do a damned poor job of hiding themselves,' he whispered to Damir.
Damir shot him a look that Castyll couldn't readily decipher. He opened his mouth, was about to say something when a sudden yowl split the night.
It was Timmar, the temple's cat, and all she was doing was performing her duty of keeping the rats at bay. But one of the vermin had clearly managed to get in a good bite before Timmar's sharp claws ended its life, and Timmar was not a creature to suffer in silence.
The drowsing guard started awake while the one on patrol whirled. Castyll's heart climbed into his throat. Timmar and her dead rat were but a yard to his left. The man was staring right at him and Damir!
Panic seized the young man. He began to run toward the waiting horses. Damir grunted softly and reached out to grasp him. 'No!' hissed the older man, but it was too late.
The guard began to run in their direction. Suddenly he stumbled and pitched forward. A slender black arrow protruded from his back. The guard who had been sleeping was now on his feet, looking around drowsily. He opened his mouth, perhaps to cry out a warning to his fellow guardsmen, and again an arrow sang through the air. The second of Bhakir's guards toppled, the arrow, fired by Damir's man in the tree, piercing his throat.
By now Damir had seized Castyll, twisted the young king's arm around in a painful grip and covered his mouth with one hand. 'Silence!' hissed Damir, his lips brushing Castyll's ear. 'I had worked mind magic on Bhakir's guards. We were all invisible to their eyes. They would not have seen us had you not bolted. Be silent, and all may yet be well.'
Castyll nodded to indicate that he understood. Damir released him. They stood still as statues, Castyll trying to make even his breathing as quiet as he could, waiting for the sound of the other guards to come rushing back, demanding what was wrong.
But they did not come. The murders of the two men had been done in silence. The yowl of a temple cat was nothing unusual; and the remaining guards had been too far away to hear Castyll's frightened footfalls.
