Prince of Malorn (Annals of Alasia Book 3)

by Annie Douglass Lima

  He slipped the ring on, its wide gold band cool and heavy around his finger. It would serve as his own constant reminder of who he really was and what this quest was all about.

  Korram turned to the palace minstrel, who was sitting unobtrusively on the steps behind them, stroking the strings of his malute. “Goodbye, Arden. Thank you for all you’ve done.”

  Arden stood and extended a hand to clasp his. Though Korram had hardly noticed the soft music his friend had been playing, the palace courtyard seemed suddenly deathly silent in the predawn dimness.

  “It’s been my pleasure, your Highness. And you know I’ll do whatever I can to help your family in your absence.”

  “I know you will.” Korram smiled ruefully, wishing he could ask the minstrel to accompany him. Arden was as close to him as a family member, and since Father’s death nearly four years ago he had been Korram’s greatest role model. He and his malute had always been there to help Korram through the hard times, inspire him, encourage him. There was something powerful about that music of his. Korram had seen arguments start or end, timid informants encouraged to reveal information, angry opponents forget what they were upset over, and liars stumble over their words, grow confused, and finally blurt out the truth. All, he was convinced, because of the subtle little tunes that Arden seemed to pull out of the air and weave into patterns that could play with a person’s mind as effortlessly as the wind played with a kite. And Arden’s creativity and insight into human nature had made him a valuable advisor to both Korram and his father before him.

  But that was exactly why Arden was needed here. Who knew what Rampus might try to do in the coming weeks or months? Korram was worried for his family’s safety, and it was hard to say how many of the palace guards would take their side if it came down to it. Leaving Arden with them made him feel a little better. Besides, Arden had an assignment: one that just might keep Rampus from sending assassins after Korram after all.

  In the torchlight, he smiled around at the only three people in the world he was certain he could trust. “Don’t look so worried. I’ll be back in a few weeks, or a couple of months at the most.” As if he actually had any idea how long his mission might take.

  He could tell his mother and Kalendria were both blinking back tears, and the last thing Korram wanted was an emotional farewell. Better to cut this short and get out of here.

  “Well, I ought to be off. I’ve got a long day of travel ahead of me. Actually, probably quite a few long days of travel. See you soon.” Without waiting for a response, he gave them one last smile and then turned and strode briskly away.

  A groom waited by the stable, leaning sleepily on the mule beside him. Korram bent to pick up the pack that lay on the ground nearby and hoisted it onto his back. How many Malornian princes had ever gone on a journey carrying their own luggage? None, probably. He grinned, tightened the straps over his shoulders, and accepted a leg up from the yawning groom, settling himself awkwardly between the bulging saddlebags.

  It’s time. The groom gave the animal’s haunch a slap and it plodded forward. Sergeant Sanjik of the palace guard pulled the heavy front gate open as Korram approached. “Safe journey, Sire,” he called, saluting as the prince passed.

  From behind them, Korram could hear Arden striking up a new tune, the chords he strummed carrying boldly across the quiet courtyard. It was a martial-sounding melody, and Korram felt his spirits soar along with the notes. If there had been words to the song, they would probably have been about a capable army marching forth boldly to conquer, unafraid of whatever dangers lay ahead, proudly advancing toward victory – and destiny.

  On the horizon before him, far beyond the still-sleeping city of Sazellia, the dark shapes of the Impassable Mountains rose solidly against the stars. Korram didn’t know anyone who had traveled more than a few miles into them.

  Still grinning in boyish excitement, he kicked his mule into a trot and rode forth boldly to meet his destiny.

  His excitement lasted for all of a mile and a half. Then, as Korram rounded a corner on the cobblestoned street, a group of dark figures stepped out before him, blocking his way.

  What’s going on? Korram reined to a halt, but before he could grow alarmed, he recognized the tan and black uniforms of the palace guard. What are guards doing out in the city this early?

  “Your Highness,” the lead figure greeted him, bowing. “Good morning, Sire.” There was no surprise in the man’s voice, and that answered Korram’s question. They were waiting for me.

  “Captain Callium,” he replied, working hard to keep the surprise and confusion out of his own voice. “Order your men to stand aside; they’re blocking my way.”

  “I beg your pardon, Sire; Regent Rampus has sent us to meet you with a message.”

  Now alarm rose in in Korram. Regent Rampus? How did he know I would be coming this way at this time? His intelligence network must be even better than Korram had realized.

  “The regent requests the honor of your presence at a farewell breakfast he has prepared for you,” the captain of the palace guard went on.

  “Well, I’ve already eaten breakfast. Please thank the regent for me and inform him that I don’t have time to return to the palace now. I’ll see him when I get back from the mountains.”

  “Actually, my lord, the regent is waiting in an inn just down that street.” Callium pointed. “Breakfast or not, please allow us to escort you there. He would be most disappointed not to have the opportunity to speak with you before you leave.”

  Korram hesitated. But he was surrounded by a dozen armed men, and while he had no particular reason to believe they intended him harm, neither was there any reason to trust them. He was wearing his sword, but what use would that be against so many?

  It seemed he didn’t have much choice at the moment but to find out what Rampus wanted. “Very well, Captain,” he replied, resigned. Lead the way.”

  The inn in question wasn’t far off. Light shone through cracks in the shutters, and two more guards stood on duty outside, their faces lit by flickering torches on either side of the doorway. But what surprised Korram as he approached was the rows of hobbled mules that waited nearby, all wearing loaded saddlebags. What’s going on?

  One of the guards held his mule by the bridle so Korram could dismount. Another reached for his pack, but Korram shook his head. “I’ll keep this with me.” He wasn’t giving up any more than he had to until he knew what was about to happen.

  The regent was waiting in a well-furnished dining room inside, sitting alone at a table for two. More guards stood at attention all along the walls, but no other guests or employees were in sight. Not that Korram would have expected any at this early hour.

  “Good morning, my prince.” Rampus beamed at him from across the room as Korram approached.

  “Regent. I heard you wanted to see me.” No sooner were the words out than Korram realized he sounded like some servant addressing his superior. The fact that Rampus did not rise to his feet as the prince approached only added to the picture.

  “Indeed. Please have a seat, my lord. Breakfast will be served momentarily.” Rampus gestured to the chair across from him.

  Korram remained standing. “I’ve already eaten. Actually, I’m rather busy at the moment.”

  “Surely your journey can wait a little longer, Sire. Please.” Though the regent’s words were respectful, there was a hard edge to his tone. He gestured again, and reluctantly, Korram slipped off his pack and sat.

  Attendants in palace uniforms appeared with trays of food, placing steaming plates and cups in front of the two of them. I’m not hungry and I don’t want anything from Rampus, Korram reminded himself. But his mouth watered at the smell of eggs cooked with cheese and sausage and of fried oatcakes topped with puddles of melting butter.

  “So what exactly is this about?” he demanded, as one of the attendants set a mug of coffee and a cup of fruit juice in front of him.

  The regent took a bite of oatcake and smil
ed at Korram as he chewed, but there was nothing friendly in his expression. Resisting the urge to tap his foot with impatience, Korram stared at him until he swallowed. “Why, I wanted merely to say farewell and wish you the best of luck on your mission, my prince.”

  Really. Korram didn’t buy it for a moment. He waited, knowing there was more to come.

  “As you know, the Impassables are a dangerous region,” Rampus went on, “and the Mountain Folk are not to be trifled with. Many would say that for a lad of your tender years to go off alone like this is courageous at best, foolhardy at worst. Indeed, it is a mission from which some might expect you will not return.”

  “Oh, I have every intention of returning, Regent. Don’t worry about that.”

  “Oh, but I do worry about it, my prince. Your safety is of great concern to me.”

  Only because you’re hoping I won’t be safe, Korram thought. Then you won’t have to bother getting rid of me before I turn eighteen.

  “In fact,” the regent went on, still speaking through his fake smile, “I’m not sure it’s even possible for anyone to succeed in what you are attempting. Though I’m sure you would feel shame and disgrace were you to fail, be encouraged that it’s noble of you to even try.”

  “I have no intention of failing,” Korram retorted. “I know it will be difficult, but I’m going to find a way to succeed. I won’t return until I do.”

  Rampus beamed at him with that fatherly expression that annoyed Korram more than anything. “And that courage, that determination, is precisely what makes you such a hero to our people. During these uncertain times, the people need heroes like you: those who will risk any danger, sacrifice whatever they must, strive with all effort necessary, to succeed at all costs. Though it would break my heart not to see you again, I know that you understand this. You understand how it would shatter the people’s image of their prince were you to return with anything but complete success. You know the honor in which they would hold their future king if he reappears successful from such a difficult quest – and the disappointment and shame they would feel if he were to crawl home in failure. Not to mention how your family would suffer for your sake.”

  Is he just talking about my reputation or threatening my family as well? Korram scowled. “I told you, Regent, I have no intention of returning in failure.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that, my prince. The kingdom would be devastated.”

  To avoid the regent’s meaningful gaze, Korram picked up his fork and took a bite of his eggs. His heart was thudding in anger. It would be better to die in the mountains than return unsuccessful. Rampus couldn’t have gotten his message across more clearly if he had actually spoken the words. Of course he didn’t believe Korram would succeed. And of course there were lots of ways one could die up in the Impassables. I could get lost, fall sick, starve, perish in a landslide or avalanche, freeze to death, be murdered by the Mountain Folk – then of course there were the wild animals: wolves, snowcats, poisonous snakes, and who knew what else. If Korram were to fall victim to any one of those dangers, he knew his death would come as a source of great delight to Rampus and his many supporters.

  But hoping I’ll die up there is still better than sending someone to kill me. Which he could easily do.

  “I intend to be an inspiring example to the Malornian people,” he informed Rampus. “And to make sure they all know about my quest, Arden the minstrel has written a variety of songs about it already and will perform them in public places around the city in the coming weeks.” It was a safeguard they had set up at his mother’s insistence. The more people who knew where Korram had gone and what he was trying to do, the harder it would be for Rampus to have him disposed of quietly.

  But the regent merely nodded. “An excellent idea. And speaking of ideas, I have taken the liberty of arranging for some attendants for you, Sire. A personal servant and two dozen guards to accompany you on your expedition and help ensure your safety. Their supplies are packed and they are ready to leave with you this morning.”

  “What?” The word burst out before Korram could stop it. “I’m not taking anyone with me!”

  Rampus smiled tolerantly. “I remember well the impetuosity of youth. The desire for adventure, the urge to go off on one’s own and prove one’s abilities to the world. Never fear, my prince, these men will help and protect you on your journey without taking a share of the glory you will earn through its success.”

  And when we get to some deserted place far from civilization, they’ll turn on me and kill me. Korram had absolutely no doubt that was what Rampus had in mind. Actually, come to think of it, Rampus could have him killed here and now. The guards who still stood at attention around the edges of the room were surely all on the regent’s side. Probably the innkeeper, too, wherever he was. Would the regent risk assassination right here in Sazellia?

  Probably not, unless he thinks it’s his last chance to get rid of me. Which was why Korram couldn’t let him know he suspected anything.

  His throat had gone dry, so Korram moistened it with a sip of coffee before he spoke again. “I must confess you’re right, Regent,” he admitted. “I did want to measure myself against the mountains and see if I could do this alone. I suppose it would have been wise to ask your advice on that before I finalized my plans. However, there’s another reason why I can’t bring guards with me.” He was careful to keep his voice humble, though he wanted to throw the words out as a challenge. “You know how suspicious the Mountain Folk are of our people. My task will be hard enough as it is, but if I approach them surrounded by armed men, their first response will be to flee or fight back. I’ll never be able to talk to them, to convince them to help us.”

  He turned his attention to his plate once more and picked up his fork for another bite, afraid that if he made eye contact now, Rampus would take it as defiance and force his will on him anyway. Will he decide he needn’t bother sending anyone with me to kill me? Will he think I’m likely enough to just die in the mountains on my own and save him the trouble? Korram kept chewing, acutely aware that his life depended on the answer.

  Three bites later, the regent finally nodded. “You are wise beyond your years, my prince. I confess I lost sight of your mission in my concern for your safety. However, you must allow me to provide for you in one small way. At your insistence, the guards will indeed stay behind, but I insist on sending with you an attendant who is experienced in mountain life. I’m afraid he will be of little use for protection, but he can serve you by setting up your camp each night, hunting or fishing and cooking for you. One additional person will not alarm the Mountain Folk unduly.”

  And he can keep an eye on me and report back about everything I’m doing, and perhaps send messages to Rampus whenever we pass through a town or village. Korram didn’t like that idea much more than the original one, but he couldn’t think of a good way to get out of it. Besides, Rampus had already gestured to one of the men on duty, who disappeared, presumably to summon the servant.

  “Very well,” Korram conceded finally. “I suppose it would be useful to have someone along who’s experienced in mountain life.” He knew that was probably true. Korram was good with his sword, thanks to daily practice with the palace master-at-arms, and he was a fair shot with his bow and had gone hunting on day trips before. But besides that, I know very little about wilderness survival, he admitted to himself. He had done some research in the palace library before he left and was eager to try out the skills he had read about. But he supposed it would be helpful to bring an attendant in case lighting a fire or cooking a rabbit turned out to be more difficult than he expected.

  In any case, his real quest was almost exactly what Rampus thought it was; the only difference would come right at the end. So it wouldn’t matter what this servant saw or heard until then; and, when the time came, Korram would find a way to fool him or dismiss him or work in spite of him. In the meantime, he decided, he would get the man to teach him everything he knew. It’s time I lear
ned to do more for myself. Malorn needs a king who’s capable and independent.

  The door to the dining hall opened, and a bearded man who looked to be in his mid-thirties wove his way between the tables toward them. “This is Trayven,” the regent announced, as the servant stopped before their table and bowed. “He was raised in the foothills and knows all the best travel routes, so he will make a good guide.”

  The last thing Korram wanted was a guide. He would set his own route, not follow one that Rampus had probably told this fellow to lead him along, where who-knew-what could be waiting around any corner. In fact, Korram decided on the spot, he would travel anonymously, staying away from farms and mining camps and villages as much as possible. And when he encountered anyone besides Mountain Folk, he would keep his identity secret. It would be safer that way.

  But no need to explain all that to this man in front of the regent. “Trayven,” Korram greeted him. “It will be good to have you along on my journey.”

  “My pleasure, Sire,” Trayven muttered dutifully, but the look on his face suggested he was being banished for some crime.

  Korram pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, impatient to get away before Rampus introduced anymore roadblocks into his plans. “Well, since that’s settled, let’s be going.” He forced himself to smile at Rampus. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Regent. I’ll see you again when I return successful.”

  “Indeed.” Once again, Rampus remained seated. “I look forward to hearing all about your adventures.” But Korram didn’t miss the glance he gave Trayven as he spoke the words. “I’m so glad we were able to have this conversation, my prince, and I trust you will remember what I’ve said.”