'Get a doctor!' the prince shouted.
'No!' Aurolron snapped from the floor. 'It's only a scratch.'
Shadow's ripping had exposed the skin--a gash on the king's ribs was pouring blood, but it did not look deep. He wadded a corner of the cloth and pressed it against the wound.
'I think it is superficial,' he agreed, 'but it needs stitching.'
He was King Shadow, and the king had been stabbed. What was going to happen to him now?
The queen had collapsed on her chair again and was sobbing helplessly into her hands. Jarkadon knelt down also, ignoring her.
'We should get a doctor, Father,' the prince said.
'Wait!' Aurolron said. He had gone very pale from the shock. 'Perhaps we can keep this quiet.'
But that would be impossible. His clothes were blood-soaked; so was the carpet.
'I wonder how long she has been carrying this,' Jarkadon said suddenly, holding up the knife. It was small, slim, but quite adequate. Shadow was starting to tremble. His mind was jittering around so much that he did not know what he was thinking. He was not supposed to stay close to the king in this room; he could not have possibly moved fast enough; no one ever searched the queen for weapons; they did unspeakable things to traitors.
'We must keep the queen out of this,' the king muttered.
Stabbed by his own queen? He would be a public laughingstock. It would be shame, not danger or pain, which would be troubling him most. Scandal!
'Perhaps we can,' Jarkadon said.
He looked across at Shadow.
The king turned his head and looked up at Shadow.
Sheer terror froze him. Three quite unimpeachable witnesses: the king, the queen, and the new crown prince. He was lost.
'Then I think you had better call a doctor,' the king said quietly.
'No immediate hurry,' Jarkadon said. 'Let's have a look. Yes, it's not deep. Fortunate that Mother doesn't know how to use a dagger, isn't it?'
By some terrible precognition, the paralyzed Shadow knew what was about to happen--and knew that he was not going to be able to move to prevent it.
'Fortunate that she doesn't even know anatomy,' Jarkadon said. 'She should have put it
The king's eyes rolled up, and with no sound at all he went limp, the silver hilt ornamenting his chest like some macabre heraldic symbol.
For a moment that seemed to outlast the ages, they all stared in silence: Shadow with disbelief, the queen perhaps not comprehending, Jarkadon with a thin smile of satisfaction. Then the prince leapt to his feet.
'Treason!' Jarkadon screamed. 'Murder!' He went running down the room to the doors. 'Guards! Murder!'
Those outside could not hear him through those doors, and in his haste he tried to push instead of pull. Then he got one open and renewed his yelling. The guards jumped forward; the other spectators back. There was confusion. The guards forced their way through, and then all jammed together in the doorway.
When the would-be rescuers finally rounded the big chair and came rushing along the room, they froze in horror at the sight of the king's lifeless body.
There was no one else there.
Chapter 9
'If you see a shadow move, don't blame the sun.'
CLINK.
He opened one eye.
Both eyes open, he saw that a table by the bed held a tray. Someone was mercilessly rapping a spoon against a cup.
He peered past the table: Ukarres, hunched forward in a chair.
The old man grinned with the usual display of stumps. 'Good sky to you, Prince Shadow.'
Shadow sat up fast. 'What time is it?'
The old man dropped the spoon and squirmed back painfully in his seat. 'You have slept about one watch and a half.'
Shadow glanced around a fine, luxurious room, with bright hangings to hide the stone walls and thick rugs on the floor and well-carved, shiny furniture; bright sunlight shone through good, clear glass. He recognized the anteroom--through that door was the prince's room, probably the ducal bedroom in normal times, empty now, of course. He threw back the covers. 'The patrols are ready?'
'Oh, they left hours ago,' Ukarres said in his wheezy voice.
Shadow put his feet on the floor. His head was whirling, but most of the ache had gone.
'Stop!' Ukarres said. 'You can serve your prince better by staying where you are and listening to me.'
Shadow stared at him skeptically.
'I mean it. I know things you do not. So eat that meal before it gets cold--it may be the last decent one you will ever see.'
He smelled coffee. Yes, he was hungry again, so he had been out for a long time. This had not come from the commons; the ducal kitchen itself had spawned the white bread and the plate with thick, glistening slices of ham and a huge fried goose egg. His mouth watered.
He reached for the coffee, noticed that he was grubby and smelly and naked, and decided he did not care. 'Then speak.'
'Do you trust me?'
Shadow shook his head.
'Wise of you,' Ukarres said. 'I am a trickster. I never tell the truth when a lie will do as well. Deceit is almost the only pleasure left to me, and it was always one of my favorites. This time, though, I find myself forced to be honest.'
'You lied to Lady Elosa,' Shadow said with his mouth full.
'Of course. I knew that the sight of the prince would dumbfound her--enough to be obvious, so that he would get the reason out of her. I never thought that Rorin would be sent along. That ruined it. I had a slight hope that he would have the sense...well, it didn't work.' He sighed. 'No need to hurry. You aren't going out to search with the others.'
'NailBiter?' Shadow barked, sputtering coffee in his alarm.
'No, he's still there. But Lord Ninomar left written orders: You are to return to duty at somewhere called Jaur.'
'The sun will move first.'
Ukarres squirmed again and regarded him with some amusement.
'He is trying to save you, you know.'
'Ha!'
'Yes, truly. He maintains that only you can fly NailBiter. Of course that is all feathers--the duke can handle
