by Karalynn Lee
Herrol caught her chin and took a hard look. “It’s going to bruise badly.”
“I’m fine. At least my nose is still straight.” She tried to grin but ended up wincing instead.
He didn’t look appreciative of the reminder. “I’m sorry this is the reception you got.”
The commandant coughed. “We’re still warring with Anagard, my prince.”
Herrol whirled on him. “She’s been in Helsmont, and just left a forced betrothal to the mountain-king.”
The guards were too disciplined to say anything aloud, but she saw their gazes upon her turn speculative. She bit her tongue. The folk of Anagard were used to her ways, and those in Helsmont had been remarkably accepting of willful women, but she suspected that these men of Kenasgate would not hear favorably anything she had to say.
“We should take you to our king, my prince,” the commandant said.
Herrol gave him a patient look. “Yes. We’re traveling toward the capitol. We require fresh horses. Once we have them, we’ll be on our way.”
The commandant’s horse sidled, sensing its rider’s unease. “We’ll have to accompany you.”
Herrol’s hands tensed on the reins, but he spoke evenly. “Don’t you have duties to attend to?”
The commandant glanced at her. “She’s a valuable prisoner, my prince.”
“She’s with me.”
“My prince, you were sent to bring her to Kenasgate seasons ago.” The insinuation was unmistakable: Herrol couldn’t be trusted to handle her, not when he couldn’t manage it previously.
What had they heard about that failed ambush? She’d written Dereth about it, so perhaps he’d used that knowledge to taunt his enemies, and it had become a source of shame. She didn’t care whether they were accompanied by soldiers—she needed to reach the king of Kenasgate one way or another—but she did wish she could spare Herrol this embarrassment. So she remained uncharacteristically meek as he stiffly acceded to an escort. The commandant made the necessary arrangements, dividing the garrison and rounding up mounts and supplies. She lingered only a moment to leave a hand on the muzzle of her pony.
They gave her what the commandant promised was the gentlest horse in the village that still had good legs. The gelding wasn’t gentle so much as broken-spirited, and she bit her tongue against the railing she normally would have delivered about the proper care of animals. Nor did she tell them she could’ve handled a livelier steed. The commandant’s high-handedness made her grit her teeth and resolve to be quietly unhelpful. In Anagard she wouldn’t have bothered with the quiet.
Herrol didn’t notice, as he was busy speaking with the commandant and trying to extract the latest news from him. This outpost didn’t seem like a place that would receive much word from the rest of Kenasgate, but Herrol had been away for long enough that he kept his head bent by the commandant’s for a good part of their ride.
In some ways it was a relief to return to flat roads, especially since her horse probably wouldn’t have been able to handle anything hillier. But she found that she missed the landscape of the mountains. Whenever she raised her gaze, the sky seemed curiously empty.
And the troop that the commandant had detached from the garrison rode closely enough for her to realize she was being guarded. Not as a valued guest, but as a prisoner. They gave me this sorry nag so I wouldn’t be able to outrun them. She wouldn’t have believed it of herself, but she almost missed the days when it’d been only herself and Herrol riding together down the mountain. At least I didn’t have all these soldiers suffocating me.
Herrol did check on her when they stopped at a town on the way and commandeered an inn’s best room for her use. “It’ll be several days’ ride, depending how the weather holds. But we’ll be stopping at farmhouses and inns, so it won’t be too hard on you.”
We just escaped out of the mountains together, and he’s worried that riding through the riverlands will be too hard on me? “I think I’ve managed fine so far.”
“Yes, you have.” His smile was grateful. “But I’ll make sure some better clothes and a hot meal are sent up to you. The wine here is miserable, but at least there is some.”
“I don’t care about the wine,” she said, trying not to let her voice turn frosty and failing. “I care about Dereth.”
His smile dimmed. “Of course.” He left her.
When they at last reached Kenasgate’s capitol, it was in the early afternoon hours, when the city was at its busiest. The commandant exchanged hasty words with the sentries at the gate, then rode on through toward the keep at a quick pace despite the crowded streets. People scuttled out of their way without any outcry. How often do they have to dodge soldiers’ horses to be so practiced at it?
More men guarded the keep, but they gave way once they saw Herrol. The prince looked more like himself now, as he had managed to shave and borrow a soldier’s spare set of leathers. She had no such recourse. The first innkeeper’s daughter had given her a dress that ill-fit her, and her hair was in tangles. Her bruised cheek, after blossoming into a lurid purple-blue at first, had now settled into a sickly greenish swelling.
Even so, Herrol’s word must had held enough weight for people to believe she was a princess, for she was admitted after only a couple of doubtful glances. After a tense, whispered discussion, the men from the village garrison were dismissed, and a band of keep guards took over their escort. She nervously tracked Herrol with her gaze, keeping him in sight, as he was the only person she knew here. The garrison soldiers hadn’t been the most courteous of men, but they had respected Herrol and thus her. These new soldiers eyed her with undisguised hostility. And she was in the heart of the territory of her homeland’s enemy.
They took her to the map room, where the king leaned over a table covered with papers and surrounded by men. He wore full armor even here in his own keep; the finger that he jabbed downward on some piece of land was encased in a metal gauntlet. His helm had been set upon the table not far from him, weighting down a curling corner of a piece of paper. Her heart wrenched as she got a closer look at the map. Anagard.
One of the advisor’s eyes widened as he caught sight of Herrol. “My prince!”
Amidst the following exclamations and murmurs, the king looked up. Even without his helm, his expression was inscrutable.
“Prince Herrol,” he said, and she wondered at the lack of a warmer greeting. “So you’ve returned.”
“Yes, my king.” Herrol took hold of her arm, pulling her forward. “And my mission was successful. I’ve brought the king of Anagard’s sister.”
She jerked her elbow out from his grasp and thought of slamming it into his face to break his nose again. Brought me? I’m the one who brought him! But the guards around them bristled with weapons, and she didn’t think they would hesitate to use them on her.
The king looked her over with a skeptical air. She couldn’t blame him, seeing as how she didn’t look anything like a princess. “You’re only several months late, I suppose,” he mused.
“I was stubborn,” she said.
The king’s gaze turned stern. “And now?”
She didn’t look at Herrol. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“A willing bride?”
Kimri swallowed. “I am still betrothed to another.” The guards shifted and their weapons seem to gleam all the sharper. “But according to mountain custom, an unfulfilled betrothal ends after a year.”
“And when will that be?”
“It began the day your son and I arrived in Helsmont. Surely you know how many months he’s been gone from your side.”
From Herrol’s faint hiss of breath she knew it was unwise to provoke this king. But she would let him know—as she had once before let Herrol know—that it was unwise to hold princesses against their will.
“You’ll remain our guest till then,” the king said.
“And Dereth?”
“The king of Anagard will continue to be held as a ransom-prisoner.”
&n
bsp; “Can I speak with him?”
Herrol tried to pull her away. “I’ll take you to him.”
Kimri didn’t look away from the king. “Will you release him?”
He frowned but nodded. “On the day of your wedding. There’ll be no need to hold him after that, as our realms will be allied. Herrol will see to you till then.” He bent over the map again in clear dismissal.
She swallowed back angry words. This wasn’t what she had intended—she had imagined more of a negotiation—but she could tell the king was in no mood to hear her out. Despite his words, she was no better than a prisoner in his eyes. Perhaps Herrol would listen to her, and she could somehow convince him that they shouldn’t wed. There must be a fair ransom-price for Dereth they could all agree upon, one that didn’t involve marriage.
The guards behind them parted and Herrol turned her around so they could leave the room.
One of the younger men who had been standing beside the king followed them out. He also wore metal armor, which meant he held some rank. “Herrol—”
“Leden.” The two clasped hands and pulled each other close for a long moment.
Leden, she remembered, was the youngest prince of Kenasgate. He didn’t look much like Herrol, with his hair much lighter and a narrower face, but their mothers had been different.
“We’d almost given up on you,” he was saying to Herrol. “You don’t know how shocked our father must be under that gruff face.”
“He’s overcome with disappointment, I’m sure. Leave it be.” Herrol held his brother by the shoulders and looked him over. “I’m glad you’re well. There was barely any news at all about how the war fared.”
“I was in some battles, but you know me, I always get out of scrapes without a scratch.”
So this is my counterpart. She was the one who got into trouble and pulled everyone else into it.
Leden returned his brother’s perusal. “You look like an ill-trimmed scarecrow. Do you want to go scrounge some food?”
Herrol glanced at Kimri. “I should see to her.”
“Of course. So you’re to marry her?” Leden regarded her warily, as though just remembering she was present and listening. “Princess.”
“Prince.”
He continued to study her unkempt appearance. “Who hit you?”
“A village boy. He found out I was from Anagard.”
He grunted. “You can’t really blame him.”
“My brother is an uncouth beast,” Herrol said to her. “He’s young enough that he’s spent more time in battle than in court.”
So now Herrol purported to care about her feelings? She glared at him. “He seems civil enough to me. He hasn’t tried to kidnap me or force me into marriage, which is two counts better than you.”
Leden gaped at her. Herrol put a hand on her arm.
“She’s had a long ride,” he said to his brother, “and she’s not in the happiest of situations. Grant her some leeway.”
“Grant me—” She yanked her arm away from him. “I freed you! And now you’re imprisoning both me and my brother.”
Herrol caught Leden’s eyes and jerked his head. “Go on. I’ll find you later.”
Leden hesitated, then shrugged. “She’s your betrothed.” He returned to the map room with a wary backward glance that clearly said she was not what he’d been expecting for a sister-in-marriage.
Herrol didn’t try to take hold of her again, but he moved close enough to keep his voice low. “Your brother is still being held captive because the ransom was set at one thousand swords, and it hasn’t been paid.”
“I gave the king back his son!”
He sighed. “He didn’t want me back. Do you know why my father left me in Helsmont for nearly a year?”
“You said they couldn’t agree on a ransom. If this is how your father bargains, I can see why.”
“It was because my father wanted me there as a spy.”
She laughed in disbelief. “But you said you already had a spy there!”
“I lied.”
“But you knew when I was heading there, and you ambushed us—”
He looked away. “The spy was in Anagard, not Helsmont. That’s how we found out.”
Her mind stumbled on the idea. “But you were supposed to kidnap me. Even your father said so.”
“That was what he sent me to do, but he expected me to fail.” His jaw tightened. “He let me know beforehand what I should do in that case. And perhaps that’s why the soldiers fled and left me there so easily.”
She stared at him. She could believe it of that harsh man, who apparently had spent all his love on the one son who had died. “So you’ve been spying in Helsmont all this time?”
“There hasn’t been any way to get word out. But yes, my father thought it would be useful if I was familiar with the mountain-king and his ways, as well as his city and people.”
It felt worse than when Dereth had sold her as a bride. She’d understood her brother’s reasons, at least, and he’d been giving her as much safety as he could while still taking care of the realm. He had acted as a king and been honest with her. But Herrol had become her friend, through lies.
“I know,” he said, watching her face. “Why do you think I didn’t want to leave the watchtower? I didn’t want to learn anything I could report. The mountain-king treated me better than my father has in some ways.”
She’d taken him all around the city and told him her discoveries. She’d thought she was helping him adjust to being away from home. “You’re despicable.”
He flinched. “I had to obey my king and father.”
“You don’t want to know what I think of him.”
“It’s likely nothing I haven’t thought first.”
That might have made her smile once. The cold fury that filled her left no room for humor, though. “Will you let me see Dereth, or was that a lie too?”
He bit off his first words and said the only safe thing left to say. “I’ll show you to him.”
He took her through the keep and to the stairway that descended into the dungeons. She stood on the topmost step, staring down into the darkness. The torch that Herrol held up didn’t help. It only caused more shadows to leap up at her.
“Kimri?”
She shivered and backed away. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Your brother’s there. He’ll be in one of the better cells, nothing squalid.”
“I can’t go down there. It’s too dark, and the entire weight of the keep’s above it.”
He studied her. “We’ll try something else, then.” He replaced the torch on its bracket on the wall and took her arm. “Come this way.”
He led her to a spare, dusty chamber. She’d seen more welcoming armories, but after the dungeon stairs it seemed as fine as the most brightly lit solar. “Where is this?”
“My room.”
She pulled out of his hold, suddenly tense. “Herrol—”
“If you stay here and give me your word not to wander, I’ll bring your brother.”
That was an easy promise. “You have my word.”
He left her there to gnaw over her worries. She couldn’t help prowling about his room, picking up random objects to examine them. Most of his possessions were books—Of course—although the handful of volumes looked as though they hadn’t been opened for years. There wouldn’t have been any time to read while a war raged.
The door opened. Her brother entered and stopped short in surprise. “Kimri?”
She forgot her carefully rehearsed greeting at the sight of him after so long. He was in better condition than she’d feared. His hair was matted and his face drawn despite the scraggles of a beard, but he held himself well and walked forward without any sign of pain. He kept his hands behind him, though, and she guessed that his wrists were bound.
He was less happy with her appearance. “You bastard!” Herrol had come in just behind him, and Dereth turned on him furiously. “Did you hit her?”
S
he touched her bruised cheek. It was still tender, but she’d forgotten about it amidst the events of the day.
Herrol lowered his head. “I didn’t protect her as well as I should have. I’m sorry.”
“Damn right you’re sorry—”
“It wasn’t his fault,” she said before her brother could do something foolish and violent. “It was a village boy with a rock, and the soldiers almost pounded him into dust. I’m fine. Let it go.”
Dereth blew out his breath. “Kimri…”
Behind him, Herrol shifted uneasily. His presence would only agitate her brother. “Leave us alone.” She forced herself to say one more word: “Please.”
Herrol hesitated, then nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.
“Dereth!” She flew to her brother and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his neck and fighting tears. He didn’t return the embrace because his hands were restrained behind his back. “Why are your hands tied?”
“I wouldn’t give my word not to try to escape. Kimri, why are you here? You didn’t—that is, the mountain-king—did he pay the ransom?”
She bit her lip. “No.”
He closed his eyes. “Tell me you didn’t leave Helsmont without the mountain-king knowing.”
When she didn’t say anything, he looked at her with such anger and despair that she took a step back. “Damn it, Kimri, why do you always have to go haring off without a care for the consequences?”
Dereth had rarely ever shouted at her, even during her most willful times. He’d been the one who had guarded her from much of her father’s disapproval, and had even been a coconspirator on some escapades. She saw for the first time how truly worn he looked, the hollowness of his cheeks and the shadows around his eyes: not the marks of ill care, but of a poor spirit.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought I could trade a prince for you.”
The anger drained away from him and he took a slow, deep breath. “Herrol?”