Hal nodded. “I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know much about it.”
What he knew about it was mostly rumors, and mostly discouraging. Newgate was the prison used by the king’s intelligence service for prisoners thought to have valuable information that needed extracting. Or political prisoners too valuable to mingle with the general prison population.
He tried to lighten the situation by saying, “Well, you’ve been trying to get more information about the king’s prison. Now we’ll see it for ourselves.”
“I’m sorry, Hal,” Robert said.
“Don’t worry,” Hal said, though he actually had plenty of worries. How was it that he’d ended up leaving one prison only to end up in another? And he had a feeling that this one would be worse.
29CAPTIVES
When Lyss awakened, she was immediately sorry. Everything hurt—her head, her back, her arms and legs. She was one big mass of bruises, and one of her arms seemed to be immobilized, strapped to her side. Worse, she was aware of an unpleasant sensation, as if the world was rocking under her.
I must’ve taken a really hard blow to the head, she thought, fighting back nausea. The last she remembered, she’d been on the beach near Chalk Cliffs, trying to keep the busker out of the hands of the empress Celestine.
“You’re awake,” Breon said. His anxious face came into view. “How do you feel, Your Highness?”
She propped up on her elbow. “I feel horrible. Somebody needs to put me out of my misery.”
“There’s a lot of rum around, if that’s appealing,” Breon said.
“No!” Lyss said sharply. She lay back down, waiting for the world to stop spinning. “Where are we?”
“We’re aboard the empress’s flagship,” Breon said. “The Siren.”
Now that he’d mentioned it, she could hear the wooden hull creaking and complaining all around them.
“Damn,” Lyss muttered. “Another bloody, gutter-strumming boat.”
“Looks that way.”
“I assume we’re under way?”
He nodded. “We’re a day out.”
“So I guess there’s no swimming back.” Lyss tried to laugh, but it was so painful that tears came to her eyes. More than one rib cracked, probably.
“How about some water?” Breon said.
“Hang on.” Lyss took one breath, then another, getting ready. “All right,” she said. “I’m going to sit up, and I apologize in advance if I spew all over you.”
“Turnabout is fair play, I guess,” Breon said.
Happily, she managed to sit up, and there was no spewing.
To her surprise, she was actually lying in a bed, in a fairly plush cabin with a tiny round window that displayed an angry gray ocean.
Breon had shed the filthy clothing he’d worn in their small boat and was dressed plainly but finely in a white linen shirt and loose, drawstring breeches. He’d washed his hair, so that the gold streak stood out. Despite his plain clothing, he resembled a demigod out of stories, one of those beings with one foot in the human world, the other in the divine.
When Lyss looked down at herself, she saw that her blood-mucked uniform was gone, replaced by a white silk gown. She wondered who’d done that, and decided she didn’t really want to go further with that investigation.
Breon brought her a cup of water and then perched at the foot of the bed, drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.
“What’s going on?” she whispered. “Are we prisoners or what?”
“We are guests,” Breon said drily. “The empress is really sorry about losing her temper on the beach.” He stopped, cleared his throat, and swallowed hard. “She’s eager to make amends.” From the expression on Breon’s face, he wasn’t buying what she was selling.
“Why am I here?” Lyss asked. “Why am I still alive?”
Breon hesitated. “I think she likes you,” he said finally. “She likes that you’re not afraid to fight back.”
“Did you tell her who I am?”
Breon smiled slantwise. “You’re Captain Gray,” he said, “an officer in the Highlander army.”
“Ah,” she said. She wished he’d used a less well-known name, but at least he didn’t name her the heir to the throne. “I’m sorry about your friend. I wish I could have been of more help.”
“At least you had better weapons than me. I had a flute. Music is no kind of match for—for that.”
“I wasn’t all that successful with a bow,” Lyss said. “Don’t feel bad. Anyway, as long as we’re saying sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t jump out of the boat when you told us to.”
“Me too.”
“So, what’s this all about? Do you have any idea?”
“It has to do with my magemark,” Breon said. “That’s all I know.”
“So she didn’t tell you what it’s for or what it means?”
He shook his head. “Maybe there’ll be a big reveal when we get where we’re going,” he said. “I guess the empress put the word out that she was looking for people like me. Aubrey heard there was a reward on offer, and split on me.”
“Was Aubrey your sweetheart?” Lyss knew the question was out of line, but found herself asking it anyway.
Breon drooped a little, like a flower in need of water. “I guess ‘sweetheart’ is too strong for what we had going,” he said. “But I thought at least she was my friend.”
“From what I heard, she didn’t know what the empress’s intentions were,” Lyss said.
“Obviously she didn’t know the empress meant to burn her alive.”
“You know what I mean. She didn’t know what Celestine wanted with you.”
“Maybe,” Breon said, “but it’s no excuse. It’s like when that cove hired me to wait for you on a street corner in Southbridge. I guess I could claim that I didn’t know what he intended. He never came out and said it. But, looking back, I had to know he was up to no good. But I did it anyway.”
“We’ve all done things we regret,” Lyss said, thinking she had too many to count. “All we can do is try to do better going forward.”
“Maybe. I just don’t know.” He paused, sliding a look at her. “Do you think Talbot and the others will come after you?”
“Sasha will
