The prince rolled out from under the other man and sat up, looking around. The two assassins were now unconscious, lying beside each other and securely trussed. Three of Relam’s guard stood watch over them, menacing them with the points of their spears. A fourth was still out in the hall and the fifth-
Relam looked sideways and his stomach clenched with anger and guilt. The fifth guard was lying on his side, eyes wide open, three daggers centering a trio of bloody circles on his back. The prince looked around and saw the fourth dagger had somehow missed, embedding itself in the door frame instead of in the body of the guard.
“They’ve all been rounded up, your highness,” one of the guards reported.
Relam nodded briefly, watching the downed guardsman for any sign of life. “Is he-?” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.
The guard obligingly knelt over his comrade, though there was really no need for such a close examination. “Dead,” he said shortly. “He gave his life for yours.”
Relam took a great shuddering breath. Strangely, the image of the dead guard seemed to be blurring before his eyes. Then, a single tear rolled down the prince’s cheek and splattered on the blood-soaked floor. He wiped the rest away before they fell, not wanting to appear weak in front of the guards.
“He did his job, your highness,” the guard beside him said gently. “He knew the risks.”
“If I may, commander, I think you’re wrong,” another guard said from behind Relam.
The guard beside the prince shot the man a warning glance. “Not now, Narin,” he said brusquely. “His highness has had a trying day.”
“He needs to hear this,” the guard called Narin said forcefully, kneeling before Relam. “Grant here was doing more than his job, Bannen, and you know that. We of the guard are trained to protect the royal family and keep them out of harm’s way. We are not trained to sacrifice ourselves when they recklessly put themselves in harm’s way.”
Relam flinched and looked away from Narin. Unfortunately, that meant looking back at the downed guard. Grant. He’d had a name, Relam realized, and likely a family. How could Relam explain to them that his mistake had cost Grant his life?
“If his highness had not taken it upon himself to lead us into battle, into a terribly dangerous situation with highly trained adversaries and a great many unknown factors, Grant would be alive,” Narin continued. “I’d put our five lads against those three black-clad curs any day of the week. But because of the prince here, we had an additional complication. We had to protect someone determined to place themselves in the greatest possible danger.”
Relam found himself agreeing with Narin, which only increased the weight of his guilt. Had he not been thinking only moments earlier that maybe he wasn’t quite ready for this, that he wasn’t qualified for such a mission? And then he had turned right around and charged to the front of the battle.
“Grant should not be dead,” Narin continued, less forcefully now. “His death is on you, princeling, and you alone. We told you to wait, to let us handle it. And you didn’t listen. You may not be used to living in a world with consequences, but it is past time you learned what the real world is like.”
“Enough, Narin,” the commander growled.
“No. Look at me princeling,” Narin said, leaning forward.
Relam raised his eyes and met Narin’s gaze. The guard’s green eyes were not unkind, but the force of his gaze brooked no argument.
“I realize now,” Relam said softly. “Thank you, Narin.”
The stern look was replaced in an instant by blank shock. Narin blinked in surprise and sat back on his heels.
“I allowed anger and excitement to cloud my judgement and make me overconfident,” Relam continued. “I see that now. I should have listened to you in the kitchens, let you lead, stayed behind and waited for the result. It’s just so . . . frustrating to be left out or to wait helplessly.”
“I can appreciate that, your highness,” Narin said, nodding. “But it is easier for us to do our jobs right if you let us get on with it ourselves.”
“Understood,” Relam said gravely. “Now, let’s get these thugs somewhere secure before they wake up. But first,” Relam continued, “I want my own sword.” He got to his feet and was about to enter his room when a guard stopped him with an outstretched arm. The prince hesitated, then jumped back as Narin went past at a run, leaping into the room and scanning it for threats. Relam watched the man relax, then turn back. “Clear,” he announced, beckoning for Relam to enter.
Relam did so and quickly retrieved his sword belt, buckling it around his waist and settling the scabbarded sword against his left hip as comfortably as he could. “Much better,” he muttered. “Now, let’s get these assassins to the Citadel. There’s nowhere more secure is there?” he asked, glancing at Narin.
Narin shrugged. “Nobody has ever escaped the cells there to my knowledge. Not alive anyways.”
“We need these three alive,” Relam pointed out. “We need to know who hired them if they were working for someone, and why they attacked if they were working alone.”
“We’ll make that clear to the Citadel,” Narin promised.
“One other thing,” Relam said, stopping the guards as they made to leave. “I want palace guards on their doors at all times. This is a matter of the security of the royal family, and you are all handpicked for your loyalty and bravery.”
“That will stretch the guard,” said Bannen, chewing the ends of his mustache. “Especially now that we have lost a few of our number.”
“We’ll add a few more,” Relam promised. “I’ll speak to my father about it.”
“Thank you,” the commander said,
