“Since I have something very precious to lose,” he said, and she threw herself hastily forward. His arms closed around her, holding her firmly against his chest, and for a brief moment they stayed that way. Scarlett could feel that, like her, Jonan’s every muscle remained tensed, but she could also sense the mutual relief at being reunited.
“I know they’ve broken faith, Jo,” she said, her voice muffled against his tunic. “But I can’t just leave them to whatever Scanlon is planning without at least trying to help.”
“I know,” sighed Jonan, clearly already resigned to her answer. “And I can’t criticize you for being so unselfish, when it’s one of the things I most love you for. But I can’t help wishing I could get you out of here right now, when we can still escape with our lives.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” said Scarlett bracingly. “You seem to have found your strength again.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” said Jonan, leaning his forehead against hers. “But you’re right, I figured the rock out almost as soon as you left this morning.”
The growing sounds of strife in the nearby courtyard made Scarlett want to hurry back without delay, but she forced herself to be patient as Jonan took a deep breath. He clearly needed to get this out, whatever it was.
“Giles was right,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically reserved. “I was selfish, and a little bit dishonorable even, to encourage you to stay away from your home until I’d locked you down.”
“Jonan!”
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t have done it,” said Jonan quickly. “Just that my motivations weren’t quite as good as I thought they were. And the power of the rock comes from putting your own interests last. It’s no wonder it hasn’t worked for me while we’ve been here. I told myself I was thinking of you—and I was trying to keep you from harm. But at heart I was thinking about myself, thinking how I could stop you from being influenced against me.”
“You should have trusted me not to let that happen,” said Scarlett quietly, moved by his confession.
“I know I should have,” said Jonan heavily. “And that’s my point. I should have put my fears aside and thought about what you actually wanted. I knew you were longing to see your family. And it wasn’t exactly a secret to me that you were as nervous about how I would act as about how they would receive you.”
Scarlett gave a small, unsteady laugh. Once again he was more perceptive than she gave him credit for.
“Giles thinks you made a bad choice,” Jonan continued, “and I have to admit I haven’t been as good a husband as you deserve. I would have been well served if you had shipped me back to Kyona and stayed here.”
“Jo—” Scarlett protested, her feeling of panic from the dungeon returning, but he cut her off.
“But, I intend to improve,” Jonan pushed on, smiling slightly at her alarm. “That’s why we got married, isn’t it? I’m supposed to have the rest of our lives to get better at putting you first. So I don’t care whether it would serve me right, I’m not going home without my wife.”
Scarlett beamed up at him, pleased to have the Jonan she knew back.
Jonan gave her a squeeze, his face suddenly fierce. “If I die here, so be it—you can add my name to the wall underneath Raldo’s. But nothing will induce me to leave without you.”
“Oh Jo,” said Scarlett, her smile instantly disappearing in favor of an exasperated expression as she stepped back, unimpressed. This was the Jonan she knew, all right. “I think that blasted rock with its ridiculous formula for power has addled your mind. You do realize that it’s possible to be determined to do something without resolving to die in the attempt, don’t you?”
He grinned. “But where’s the fun in that?”
She turned away from him, shaking her head indulgently. “If we’re done with the theatrics, can we go now? Hopefully it’s not too late after all your soul-searching confessions.”
“Just one more thing first,” said Jonan quickly, and she turned to him inquiringly.
“What?”
“Just in case,” he said by way of explanation, then he pulled her suddenly back toward him and pressed his lips crushingly to hers. She melted against him instantly, their bodies pressed together much more satisfyingly than during their last kiss as Jonan’s lips devoured hers briefly but passionately.
“Much better without the bars,” he breathed when he pulled back, his thoughts obviously going in the same direction.
“Much better,” Scarlett agreed, and Jonan grinned at her dazed expression.
“Ready?” he asked, as if they were going for a stroll through the jungle. Pulling herself together, Scarlett nodded.
“Then give me my sword, and let’s go stop this coup.”
Chapter Fourteen
Scarlett naturally took the lead, sprinting through the streets in a wide arc in order to come at the courtyard from a different direction. It felt almost dreamlike, running through the well-known streets, free of her restricting skirts, Jonan following behind her. It was both strange and familiar. They had done the same thing before, but never in daylight.
They were close to their destination when Scarlett heard a familiar voice, its curt orders cutting through the commotion of the nearby square. She threw out an arm, and Jonan careened to a stop beside her.
“Excellent, I see that Prince Rupert has arrived. Take half a dozen men, and secure the princess and the two younger sons.”
Peering around the edge of a building, Scarlett saw a soldier hurrying away from her brother, who skulked in a side alley where he could see the courtyard but not be seen by most of the crowd filling it.
“You’re a snake, Scanlon,” said Scarlett without preamble, striding out from her hiding place now that her brother was alone.
He turned abruptly, his eyes passing briefly from her to Jonan and back again, his expression as self-satisfied as ever.
“Ah, my darling sister,” he said in mock affection. “I wondered where you’d gotten to. I didn’t want you to slip away before I had the chance to thank you for your help. You played your part beautifully.” His smile grew as she glared at him. “Truly, I couldn’t have done it without you. A brilliant performance.”
Scarlett ignored the jibe. “Tell me you’re not planning to kill Aunt Mariska and the boys.”
He shrugged. “Only if it’s necessary.”
“How could you even consider it, Scanlon?” Scarlett protested. “She’s our mother’s sister! And Roland is little more than a child.”
Scanlon’s expression turned slightly sour. “From what I understand, our young cousin is older than you were when you started your little slave rebellion, so don’t try to tell me he’s a child. And the princess’s connection to our mother is hardly a source of affection as far as I’m concerned. You might be our mother’s likeness,” he eyed her up and down scornfully, “but I take after our father, thank heaven.” His eyes flicked to Jonan. “Which reminds me—I may not be prone to family affection, but I still owe retribution to my father’s killer.”
Jonan raised an eyebrow. “You would rather he’d succeeded in killing Scarlett, would you?”
“Infinitely,” said Scanlon calmly.
“You really are like him,” growled Jonan. “I’ll admit, I was curious to meet my brother-in-law, but I can’t say you make a good first impression.”
Scanlon hissed, instantly taking offense at Jonan’s familiarity. “I am no relation of yours, mongrel,” he spat. “Just because my sister has degraded herself to become your harlot doesn’t mean I will acknowledge you as—”
The insult was destined to remain unfinished, Scanlon’s thought broken off by the sudden impact of Jonan’s fist smashing into his face. The motion had been so swift that Scarlett could only gasp as her brother dropped heavily to the flagstones. She waited for a moment, but it quickly became clear he was unconscious.
“I really don’t like your brother,” said Jonan, trying to speak lightly, but betrayed by the
rapid rise and fall of his chest, and the angry glint in his eyes.
“Neither do I,” said Scarlett accusingly, “but you don’t see me punching him in the face every time he says something rude. I think you broke his nose, Jo.”
“I hope I did,” said Jonan savagely, massaging his fist.
“Well, there’s no time to worry about it now,” said Scarlett, dismissing her brother from her mind and her sight as she hurried forward, seeking a better vantage point into the courtyard. Jonan followed, resisting with difficulty the urge to kick the unconscious Scanlon on the way past, if Scarlett was any judge of his body language.
The sight that met her eyes was more than enough to occupy her full attention. She heard Jonan’s low whistle as he drew alongside her, but neither said a word. The courtyard was a writhing mass of people, shouting, stamping, and generally fighting each other. Some looked terrified, but many seemed to be hyped up by the unexpected opportunity to vent some of their frustration and resentment against the royals.
King Siloam was still safely up on his balcony, looking down with more astonishment than alarm at the seething crowd of people below. But Giles was in the thick of the fight, under attack from a number of burly men who were dressed as townspeople but held themselves suspiciously like soldiers. Scarlett’s heart sank. How many of the general’s traitors were spread throughout the crowd, posing as civilians, in addition to the uniformed soldiers she could see? Of course they would want it to seem like a people’s uprising rather than solely a military attack against the crown.
The members of the royal guard who had been about to carry out Jonan’s execution were fighting furiously, attempting to protect the prince, but they were dropping steadily. Glancing across the area, Scarlett saw Uncle Rupert, trying to reach his son, his sword weaving through the melee with a skill and energy at odds with his age and dignified bearing.
The sight of her uncle brought Scanlon’s words back to Scarlett with a sudden rush. Her eyes swept toward the entrance to the castle, and she gasped as she recognized the soldier to whom her brother had issued his order. He had apparently succeeded in gathering several other soldiers, but had found his passage to the castle barred by a group of royal guards.
“Jonan,” said Scarlett sharply, gesturing toward the fight with her head. “We can’t let them get to my aunt and the boys.”
Jonan followed her gaze and gave a curt nod, not needing her to explain. He met her eye briefly, the look passing between them communicating more clearly than words the mutual anxiety for one another that wound inextricably through their determination. Then Jonan took off, his sword already in his hand as he skirted the edge of the courtyard, heading straight for the fight at the castle’s entrance.
Scarlett didn’t stay to watch his progress, instead plunging into the crowd, bent on reaching Giles. Her progress wasn’t as impeded as she expected, a slim young woman being ignored by the fighters where a sword-wielding man like Jonan would have been mobbed.
She no longer had a sword, a weapon she wasn’t very proficient with anyway, so she knew she had to fight smart in order to make her dagger effective against the soldiers. The enraged townspeople were a different matter, as they were generally armed only with makeshift weapons, if at all. The king’s well-trained royal guard would make short work of this mob, but the coup had been planned well, violence erupting so suddenly that the royals had very few of their own guards on hand.
Scarlett slashed her way through any challengers where necessary, leaving a trail of superficial injuries behind her. But it wasn’t until she approached Giles’s position that she really began to fight in earnest. Ducking and weaving, she came at the soldiers from behind while they were focused on the prince and his guards. Her blade flashed out and back again, stinging the unsuspecting soldiers like the giant black bees that were the terror of unwary wanderers in the nearby jungle.
Scarlett hadn’t lied to her cousin when she said she didn’t regret having killed people in her efforts with the resistance, but she had never relished it, and she worked hard to incapacitate without taking life wherever possible. One after another, soldiers fell back from the attack against the prince and his guards, sword arms maimed, the backs of knees stabbed, or shoulders pierced. In the general chaos, most of them had no idea what had taken down their fellows until they felt the steel of her blade themselves. But unlike his attackers, Giles did not have his back to her, and she saw her cousin’s eyes grow round as he saw what she was doing.
She reached him eventually, the steady onslaught of soldiers slowing for a moment, and the surviving guards formed a semi-circle in front of the pair.
“Scarlett,” Giles said, panting from his recent exertions. “Thank you—for…for…”
Scarlett just nodded curtly, her face set and her eyes scanning the area for further threats. She was once again the confident rebel leader—a person Giles had never known.
Her eyes flicked to her cousin after a moment, and she raised an eyebrow at his stunned expression.
“What?”
“You just…I mean, I know you said, but…I wasn’t quite prepared for seeing it myself.”
She just shrugged, not sure whether to feel pleased or embarrassed.
“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Giles persisted. “Did Jonan teach you?”
“Jonan?” said Scarlett, surprised into an involuntary laugh. “Hardly.”
Giles looked more confused than ever, and she smiled in spite of herself. “It was more the other way around. He’s trained very hard this last year, but…don’t tell him I said this, but I’m pretty sure I could still beat him in a knife fight. Swords, on the other hand, are an entirely different matter. Jonan is deadly with a sword.”
She searched the chaos for him as she spoke, Giles following her gaze. She located him, at the edge of the courtyard, and her heart swelled with a rush of equal parts pride and fear at the sight of him living up to her claim. She thought that even Giles, an excellent swordsman, looked impressed at the way Jonan was cutting down all opposition.
She felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing that her husband showed to advantage in a crisis. Giles undoubtedly thought Jonan reckless and foolish, but even he would have to admire Jo’s calm head as he managed to skillfully evade the royal guards who periodically came at him—evidently confused about his role in the fight—and focus his attacks instead on the treasonous soldiers.
“He’s coming back into the courtyard,” she commented suddenly. “That means he must have succeeded in stopping them. He went to take down a group of soldiers who were going after your mother and brothers,” she explained in response to Giles’s questioning look. “We heard Scanlon give the order ourselves, and Jonan didn’t hesitate to go after them.”
Giles’s eyes widened in horror at the mention of his family, and Scarlett made no effort to keep the accusatory note out of her voice, remembering how little reason any of them had given Jonan to care about their safety.
But she didn’t have leisure to watch her husband for long. Jo seemed to feel her gaze, and he looked up suddenly, his eyes locking on hers briefly before they passed to something behind her and widened in alarm.
Scarlett spun around to find that one of the plain-dressed soldiers had taken advantage of their distraction to come around the side of the guards’ protective semicircle. He raised a well-polished sword—compelling evidence that he was not really a civilian—and Scarlett threw herself out of the way only just in time to evade his thrust.
She dropped into a fighting crouch, looking for an opening to make her smaller blade work for her, but before she had time to act, Giles had engaged the man sword to sword. She hung back, knowing she would only do more damage underfoot. It was clear that Giles was the better fighter, anyway.
“Scarlett!” She turned quickly at the sound of Jonan’s voice and saw him running toward her. The guards protecting her and Giles seemed uncertain about whether to let him through, so she slipped past them to meet him, forestalli
ng unnecessary conflict.
“Are you all right?” he demanded, gripping her arm briefly with his free hand as his eyes roamed over her, checking for injuries. His glance flicked back to Giles, emerging victorious from his recent encounter, and she realized that he must have seen the soldier attack her but not seen the outcome.
“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “You?”
“Of course,” he said absently, then lunged past her abruptly, his sword coming back red as he felled a soldier who had been running their way. “What’s the goal here, Scarlett?” Jonan asked urgently, as if there had been no interruption. “How do we know who’s won, and when? Because to my eye, it just seems like total chaos. It’s as bad as the riot in the slave camp.”
Looking around, she had to agree. It was pandemonium. The soldiers, whether in uniform or not, continued to make a concerted effort to get to the royals, but many of the townspeople were simply brawling with each other.
“Scanlon seemed happy with the progress, didn’t he?” she muttered, half to herself. “But what was his plan? How did he hope to get a decisive outcome?”
Before she could do more than pose the question, Uncle Rupert raced past them, passing through the line of guards who parted respectfully for him. Scarlett saw him grasp his son by the shoulder, reassuring himself of Giles’s safety in a rare display of sentiment. Then the older man’s eyes flitted up to his brother on the balcony above, and she thought the concern on his face eased slightly.
Following his gaze, Scarlett let out a gasp. King Siloam still stood above the crowd, watching the commotion below, but he was no longer alone. The general stood by his side. And while that fact was clearly reassuring to Prince Rupert, it had the opposite effect on Scarlett, who suddenly understood Scanlon’s plan. Of course the royal guards would not have hesitated to allow the general access to the king’s receiving room back before the fighting broke out. Like Prince Rupert, they thought him trustworthy, and well-equipped to defend the king. He must have been hanging back out of sight of the courtyard all this time, probably speaking reassuringly to the oblivious king about how his soldiers would soon have the tumult under control. And the fact that he had now stepped forward to stand right beside the king seemed ominous. They had to get to him before he did anything permanent, but the guards surely wouldn’t let her or Jonan in, and by the time she convinced Giles or her uncle and they ran through the castle to get there, it would probably be too late.
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