“Stop it!” Lisabeth slapped at his arms, shuddering at the sound of her most feared secret. Too many late nights telling ghost stories around camps fires had led to her fear of things that creep about in the dark. And, although, she’d grown out of ghost stories, she knew monsters walked in the daylight too. “I’ve heard such terrible stories about you. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Have they treated you well?” He didn’t want to talk to her about the rumours she might have heard, he didn’t want her to know they were probably true.
He was not his father’s son. He didn’t want to see the good in others because he’d seen nothing but bad. People were foolish, cruel, selfish and greedy. They would walk over their grandmothers to save their own skins, and he knew Padiskan was no different.
“I’ve been locked in here most of the time. They bring food in but I’m only allowed to talk to Padiskan’s guard, the woman. She comes here every day to see if I need anything. She’s been kind to me, but she says I’m safer here for a while. Why am I safer here?” Lisabeth’s face screwed up like she did as a small child.
“Rozalaine has been to see you?”
“She wouldn’t tell me her name, she said it wasn’t important, but she did say that I shouldn’t worry. Everything would be fine soon. What did she mean by that?”
Malachi shook his head. He hadn’t expected such kindness from Roz but then he remembered that she’d had a younger sister and would know Lisabeth needed some reassurance. He wanted to do something to repay that kindness.
“She was right. Everything will work out, don’t you worry,” Malachi said as he released Lisabeth. He glanced around the room which was filled with bright walls, lush fabrics and lots of cushions on the bed. This had been her nursery but, of course, she’d been so young when they’d left the palace that she wouldn’t remember it.
“When can we go home, Malachi?” She clasped her arms over her chest in a gesture which always tore at his heart. Losing first their mother and later their father had wounded her deeply, and now she only had him to look after her.
“We are home,” he told her. “This is our rightful place, and you’ll see, it will become our home again.”
She turned toward him, a tear flowing down one cheek.
“I overheard the maids talking. They didn’t see me listening, but they laughed that I would have to marry Padiskan to settle the country after he kills you.”
He opened his arms again and gathered her to his strong chest.
“Now listen to me and remember my words. Father’s last words were to beg me to protect you and I promised to always keep you safe. I failed this time and Padiskan found you and brought you here. I’m so sorry about that. We were delayed by a storm which took out a bridge and we had to travel many miles to find a way over the river. I promise on my life that I’ll never let you down again.”
“No one hurt me.” She snuggled against his hard chest. “They were very careful with me even when I punched one of them on the nose.”
“You didn’t!” he gasped, his little sister was the gentlest of girls and never had she shown any sign of violence. He would have paid money to see that. He chuckled softly, hugging her tightly.
“It only bled a little, not as much as I would have liked, but they were very respectful after that.”
“I vow to you, Princess Lisabeth, that you will never have to marry Padiskan. If I must kill him myself, I will,” he promised. “I can’t tell you anymore but you are safer here until it’s all over. Now promise me, you won’t punch anybody else until I come and free you.”
“I promise.” She sighed as though he asked her to complete the hardest task in the world. “Is Gareff with you? Is he well?”
Malachi chuckled again, the attraction seemed to be mutual. Gareff had asked much the same before Malachi had been allowed in to see Lisabeth.
“He’s safe and well, and asked me to give you his regards,” Malachi told her. Gareff hadn’t said anything of the ilk but the smile which curled Lisabeth’s lips made the white lie acceptable. A tap on the door told them their visit had come to an end and Malachi must leave.
“Now behave yourself, like the princess you’re meant to be, and if you’re lucky, I might sneak in Gareff next time I come.”
“You know about us, don’t you?” Lisabeth asked, a slight flush erupting on her cheeks.
“If you’re hinting about your budding romance, then yes, I guessed a while back.”
“And you don’t mind?” Her eyes dropped and her face reddened further, but she didn’t fool her astute brother.
“He is a good man. He’s saved my life on more than one occasion and I don’t think I could place your well-being into the hands of a better man,” Malachi told her as he raised one of her dainty hands to his lips.
“He’s older than me,” she said.
“You need an older man to keep you in check.” Malachi laughed as the door opened and a sentry with a black helmet poked his head in.
“Time’s up,” he stated gruffly before darting out again.
“When the time is right, I will give you both my blessing.” Malachi followed the sentry out and watched while the door to Lisabeth’s chamber was locked once more.
Gareff was a good man, true and loyal and Malachi knew he would defend Lisabeth to the very end. He didn’t care that Gareff was not nobly born, what did titles or blood matter in this time. Malachi cared only how a man behaved rather than what ran through his veins.
But then this country was full of good people who deserved better than Padiskan to rule them. With Gareff and Braedan at his side, Malachi felt he could return this one proud land to its former glory.
He marched down the corridor toward Gareff’s chamber as the color faded from his face when he remembered how Padiskan and the members of his council would die. While he didn’t care about either Padiskan or any of his treacherous associates, he found that he did care very much about Roz. He didn’t want her to die. If he’d had his choice, she wouldn’t be within a Christian mile of that meeting. He had to think up a plan to save her.
Chapter Eight
It was a bright day, like the last and the days before that, although today was special even if Roz was the only one who knew it. Today she would get the release she’d always dreamed of, and perhaps if she were lucky, she'd get to gaze on the face of her mother, an image which had faded beneath the years of her lonely life.
Roz tapped the hidden pocket of her cream linen trousers. Even she couldn't feel the presence of the few small but lethal purple rocks wrapped in waxed leather, concealed within the lining of her pockets. If they remained within the leather, they were safe. Only exposure to the air revealed their potency.
She knew that should Padiskan's orders be overlooked or ignored, any man would easily miss their tell-tale shape unless looking for them, but no one suspected Roz of anything but undying devotion to the Prince and his aims. She decided her greatest devotion would be to death itself.
After breaking her fast, the journey to the palace was uneventful, but she hadn't expected it to be otherwise. She had become a trusted member of the Prince’s retinue, and her entrance into the palace and the Prince’s private chambers were as ordinary as the short walk from her home to the palace gates.
“You look different, Roz. Is it a special occasion?” Padiskan looked up from his breakfast of boiled oats and molasses in a golden bowl; the silver spoon hung halfway between the bowl and its destination. His eyes danced over the elegant but severe clothes she’d chosen for this special day.
“Yes, Sire. It’s not every day a woman is permitted to join with the good and the great of the Land.” She nodded her head in deference, the faintest touch of a smile flirting over her lips. For truth, she wanted to look good should she meet her parents in death. She wanted them to be proud of her, she wanted... oh it didn't matter what she wanted; only what she needed to do this day. Padiskan noted the change of emotion as he finished the contents of the bowl and his
lips danced with humour too.
“Come, it’s time for us to join the ...what did you call them?”
“The good and the great, Sire.”
“Yes, that’s it. We mustn’t keep the good and the great waiting.” Padiskan led the way. He felt no danger in his own palace, the one he’d stolen from Malachi and, with Roz following close behind, he had no fears at all.
“Malachi, you look troubled.” Padiskan halted as the former Prince stepped into his path. He had allowed Malachi the freedom of the palace, knowing he would be shadowed at every step. He wouldn’t be allowed anywhere close to enough to hurt him, and it showed openly how well he treated the former prince.
Padiskan wanted his liberal treatment of the man to be witnessed which would be important if his plan to rid the country of Malachi permanently worked. Of course, Malachi had behaved himself, but the fact his sister was being held gave Padiskan leverage over him. Malachi wouldn’t endanger Lisabeth.
Roz moved quickly, placing herself between the two, as a good bodyguard should.
“Now, now, Roz, I'm sure the former Prince means no harm. He’s just a naughty puppy like his father before him.”
“I beg a moment of your time, your Highness.” Malachi bent his head, his fair hair falling over his face, concealing his true emotions from them both. Others moved up, thoughts of protecting the new Prince until Padiskan waved them away. Surely this single woman was all the protection he needed?
“I have a moment but only one.” Padiskan sighed, his eyes raised to the heavens as though the duty of listening to his subjects was a dreary matter but one which needed to be observed. His smile grew as Malachi dropped to one knee in front of him.
“I wish to be permitted entrance to the gathering of your council. Perhaps I have information, which may be of some use to you. I know things of this land, I...” Malachi began but Padiskan waved his hand, ending his rehearsed speech.
“I can’t think of one thing you could offer that would be of use. Perhaps if I needed the whereabouts of numerous places to hide around the country, of shit holes to conceal myself then I’d turn to you for surely that’s all you could possibly recommend.” Padiskan laughed coldly, looking around at his audience. Some of those chuckled with him, as expected.
“But surely, your reign would appear stronger if I demonstrated solidarity with you?” Malachi added, but once again, Padiskan cut him off.
“Why would I need the presence of the son of a coward who must, by blood, be a coward himself?” Padiskan’s eyes crinkled with pure delight as though he'd waited for the day the true heir grovelled at his feet. What a glorious image. For nine years Padiskan’s father had ruled the land, but once the deposed king had died, beating the usurper King to Hell by only a matter of months, Padiskan’s only worry was the son, the rightful successor. Now he had him in the palm of his leather gloves, his to do with what he wanted – until he could arrange a credible accident. “But still there is merit in what you say.”
“Sire, if I may speak?” Roz turned her head, though keeping her eyes on the kneeling man as though she didn't know what he was up to. She knew a way to stop it.
“Of course,” Padiskan’s hand lifted again.
“In private, Sire?”
“Here’s as good a place as anywhere, Roz. I don’t have the time to pander.”
"Of course, Sire." Roz bent her head, "I have heard rumors of an attempt on your life. These rumors have been whispered with the former Prince’s name attached. I don’t yet know the truth of this matter but I’d strongly advise not to allow him admittance into the Gathering chamber.”
"I see." But Padiskan didn't see because he could only measure his thoughts on the lies his favored bodyguard fed him, but he trusted her, more than he trusted this unwanted Prince.
“Sire, that’s not...” Malachi protested.
"Silence, Malachi. I have not accused you of anything. Yet. And yes, my dear Rozalaine, I believe you may be right. It would be foolhardy to place my trust in someone who has so much to gain from my death."
Malachi sighed deeply.
"Then, Sire, maybe I could have a moment of your bodyguard's time?" Malachi noted the cut of her clean, cream linen trousers and waistcoat before meeting the indignant fury of her blue, green eyes.
“Roz?” Padiskan smiled broadly. He seemed amused by the notion that this former Prince had fallen for the understated charms of his defender.
"I've nothing to say to you, Malachi." It was the first time she'd used his given name, and she liked the way it sounded on her tongue, but this was no time to be thinking of a romance never to happen. Her destiny had been cast in the same reading of the evil man she protected. "Some men just can't take no for an answer. Sire, the Gathering awaits."
Padiskan laughed louder, his pleasure in her refusal of Malachi’s advances. How could this day get any better?
Malachi rose from the floor, his eyes on their backs as they passed through the ornate double doors to the Gathering within. Roz glanced at his face as she pulled the doors shut. The sound of the large bolts sliding across echoed down the corridor
“What were you thinking, boy?” Gareff was a step behind him, a frown on his weathered face as he laid a hand on Malachi’s sleeve. “Why would you walk into certain death? What would be the point of that, would you devalue everything that woman is trying to achieve for this country, for you, its rightful heir?”
“I thought if I were there, she wouldn’t...” but Malachi didn't continue as his brain jumped through other ways of defaulting Roz’s plan. He wanted Padiskan dead, the generals and the traitors now sitting in that guarded chamber, but not Roz. She deserved more, deserved a future that rewarded her for the sacrifice she offered and the past she had no control over.
He turned, running towards the quarters of his men as another plan began to formulate in his mind. Vague snatches of a past conversation danced through his thoughts and it just may be possible...just may be.
"Jass, you're Ventarian aren't you?" Malachi burst through the door with Gareff only a breath later. The soldiers, the few left under his command, rose swiftly from their bunks and wooden chairs, card games discarded, each man attentive to their monarch, each man eager to complete any orders issued. None of them liked the contempt; the discourtesy handed out to them or their Prince. Was this a chance for action?
A young man, white-haired and slim of build nodded, his pale eyes blinking in pride that the Prince had remembered his name and origins. Ventaria was an ocean-side colony, its people renowned for their diving skills and mastery of breathing techniques.
“Yes, Sire.”
“How long can you hold your breath and how fast can you run?” Malachi gasped, the exertion and speed of his arrival now showing itself.
"Jass is the fastest here, Sire." A taller man, dark of skin and full of well-built muscle stepped forward, his mahogany hand resting on the younger man's shoulder. "He's the fastest of us all and sturdy with it. Don't let the fineness of him fool you." He spoke with pride and honor.
“How far can you run and hold your breath?”
“How far do you need me to run, Sire?”
Malachi smiled; yes, this could work. It could really work. If Roz kept to her timing, if she stayed with the plan then she wouldn’t employ the poisonous stones until the chiming of the eleventh bell. Malachi had an hour to perfect and complete his counter plan. He hoped it would be enough time.
ROZ STOOD STATUE STILL behind Padiskan's chair, her face blank but ever watchful. No one should mistake her stillness for ignorance. She watched every man there. Each had felt the scorn of her eyes passing over his face and everyone had looked away. She listened to plans and plots discussed around the long table of which Padiskan sat at the very top. The lives and deaths of many rested in the thoughts and machinations of these men, seven in total including the usurper Prince.
“But, Sire, he is the Prince of the land. The people would...” The speaker, thin and pale regaled fears of the comm
on folk revolting against Padiskan. He claimed they favoured Malachi and only his death would free Padiskan of worry.
“Of course, some of the people won’t like it, but they will soon settle again once Malachi has met his end in an unfortunate accident.” Padiskan’s face brightened.
“We have spread rumours of how his men slaughtered outlying tribes in the mountains with no survivors.” Diamand smirked.
“Is it prudent to besmirch the former Prince?” asked another man, who leaned back in his chair. “He remains still popular amongst the people in my town.”
“Then take control, you fool”” Diamand growled. “What is the point of your appointment if you allow commoners to run your city?”
“Of course, Malachi must die but would it not be better if he were tried for crimes against the people of this land?” Jerrant, adjutant of Terran, the second biggest town in the land asked. He stood second only to Diamand in closeness to Padiskan.
“Idiot!” sneered Diamand as he finished his third glass of wine before slamming it down on the table. “Prince Padiskan’s marriage to Princess Lisabeth will calm the people, but not if her brother is on trial for his life.”
Jerrant reddened and looked away.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Padiskan waved his hand to draw attention to himself. “Arguing amongst ourselves isn’t solving the problem. I called you here to ensure that we all agreed on the plan to rid the land of Malachi.” He paused until each of the other men had nodded before he continued. “I have allowed Malachi the freedom of my palace during the day so my subjects can see how fair I’ve been with him. I even allowed him to visit with his sister.”
The Red-Haired Assassin Page 4