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The Disinherited Prince

Page 30

by Guy Antibes


  “Don’t turn my words against me, lad,” Val said, eyes narrowing. “I gave you that advice in context of your past. Your past shouldn’t dictate your future.” Val waved his hand for emphasis. “I thought you were smarter than that, but I guess that you aren’t.”

  “I’m smart enough,” Pol said, feeling very defensive.

  “No, you’re not. You are letting your past, your trouble with your family, and your lack of health, determine what you are in the future. That is exactly the opposite of my point.”

  Pol blinked in astonishment at Val’s attack. “So?”

  “So?” Val mocked Pol. “You need to plan enough ahead so that your actions are not predictable to your enemies.”

  Pol did see the wisdom in not revealing patterns. “Are my actions predictable?”

  Val nodded, and so did Darrol. “We go for a jaunt in the woods and what happens?”

  “My enemies attack us.”

  “Were we attacked?”

  Pol was confused. “No, we evaded them.”

  “Were we attacked?” Val repeated.

  “No.” Pol didn’t understand why Val was pressing him so hard.

  “No one was after us,” Darrol said. “I know enemies when I see them, and I never saw enemies. All I saw were riders on the same road as us, twice.”

  Confusion still filled Pol’s mind. “Then why did we take all of those evasive actions?” The reason blossomed in Pol’s mind. “This is a demonstration.”

  Val finally smiled. “Ah, the boy finally gets it. I told you it was a test.”

  Paki still looked as confused as Pol had just felt.

  Turning to Paki, Pol said, “This is as real life as Val could make it.”

  His friend’s face finally smoothed with understanding. “Game playing?” He grinned. “Fun.”

  Pol didn’t agree with him. Game playing was not fun when you didn’t know you were playing games. He had to agree that he would have reacted differently if Val had just shown them the various techniques that he used to evade the imaginary enemy.

  “What have you learned?” Val said.

  “I liked the cornfield thing,” Paki said.

  Pol let Paki continue on for a bit until he ran out of overly enthusiastic things to say. Paki had commented on what they did. Pol thought a bit and felt that Val wanted him to respond to the concepts.

  “Early detection of the first set of riders allowed us to cover our tracks in an unexpected way. We didn’t have a set destination, so they wouldn’t just run ahead of us on the road. Keeping our travel plans flexible and secret let you lead us through the cornfields which provided cover for our flight, as well as a good opportunity to lose them.”

  Val nodded. “Go on.”

  “Our travel through the woods was more hasty and only because of your ability to locate a path through the trees did we have the chance of evading the enemy. Your ability to think while improvising gave us the edge against our imagined enemy. We were also careful at the inn, not to show Paki or me, since we are more noticeable that three adult male travelers.”

  ‘Is there more?”

  Pol shrugged his shoulders, but then he looked at the two men. “You sent Lirro back to the village to get supplies alone. Again, you tweaked the possible pattern of three men traveling together. It’s not a matter of just living one day at a time, but living from one moment to the next, looking for any chance to avoid revealing a pattern.”

  “You do understand, as always. For a while there, I thought you missed my point,” Val said. “Mistress Farthia would have given you high marks. Ranno, her father, would have, too.”

  Pol had a quick thought about possibly dying falling off the runaway horse, but he didn’t think Val would look favorably on any whining about what might have happened. Pol had solved that dilemma on his own, anyway.

  Darrol looked at Val. “He’ll be a waste at Tesna.”

  “I agree, but it’s Magician Malden’s call, not mine,” Val said. “Darrol and I are going to set up camp. It’s up to you two to provide us with some fresh meat. Lirro’s list didn’t include any.”

  Paki sighed.

  “Siggon taught us how to fend for ourselves. Let’s go,” Pol said. “There is still enough light to find something.”

  ~

  Four rabbits sizzled over the fire that Darrol had prepared. Pol munched on a piece of bread given him to stave off his hunger until the rabbits finished. He looked over at Paki, doing the same, and wondered how Siggon’s son could forget how to make snares. Pol had to do it all with Paki complaining over his shoulder. The complaints turned to compliments after the two boys checked the seven snares they had laid. The forest had to be overrun with rabbits.

  Lirro stirred the pot of vegetables and herbs that he had bought in the village where they spent the night. Pol knew it would have been just as easy for the man to purchase meat, but Val obviously wasn’t through with their testing.

  The camp took on a familiar aspect. Siggon had taken Paki and Pol out a number of times into the Royal Woods on camping trips, the last one during the spring had ended in near-disaster with the poisoning. The next day, Val put them through the same exercises that they had done in the little wood on the castle grounds, but this time, Darrol and Lirro were the targets for finding and the seekers when Paki and Pol hid in the woods.

  Lirro had just returned from the village with a few additional supplies when Val told Pol and Paki, “Tomorrow morning we will head back to the castle. We celebrate with fresh supplies,”

  Just when Pol had shaken off his anxieties and begun to really enjoy being out in the woods, they were leaving. He knew that they couldn’t stay outside the castle forever, but he still felt disappointment when Val made his announcement. A quick look at Paki told Pol that his friend felt the same way.

  Lirro cooked two chickens over a spit. He had purchased some seasonings and mixed them with butter to baste the birds. Pol had never eaten such tasty chicken. What made the meal even better was that the older men had treated Pol and Paki like peers, not little boys.

  Was this what life was like outside the castle? Pol thought. He knew people worked hard for their living, and plenty of his father’s subjects often went hungry, but Pol could just take this night, this trip, and enjoy it for what it was. He enjoyed thinking about the day and not worrying about the past or the future.

  He had learned more than he thought he would, and little of it could have been taught in Mistress Farthia’s classroom or in Malden’s chambers. Pol’s eyes drifted to Paki. If Siggon still lived, they would be having an even better time. Pol sighed and put that thought in the back of his head as he concentrated on a story that Lirro had just begun.

  ~

  Another few hours and Pol would be back in the thick of royal intrigue again, looking over his shoulder and wondering what plans Grostin had in store. Val had them taking little lanes and heading straight across farmlands to avoid the main roads.

  “We will assume that there are men posted around the roads leading to the castle, so we will take measures to avoid confrontation,” Val said.

  Paki grinned at the comment when they first left the road, but his smile had long since disappeared when the grind of having the horses pick their way through the countryside began to get old. Pol’s thoughts turned back to the amulet and his hidden heritage.

  They traveled through a stretch of trees not far from the road they had taken to leave the castle when Pol sensed a few men ahead. He rode up to Val. “Men ahead, in the wood over there.” Pol pointed to the northeast.

  Val nodded. “There are more towards the road that leads to Borstall. They are not part of the trip. Shall we move past them or see why they are camping in the middle of this forest?”

  “A final test?” Pol said, not knowing if Val was telling him the truth or not.

  “Not an intentional one,” Val said. He looked back at Lirro and Darrol. “Unknown strangers ahead. We will dismount and investigate. This is not practice, so be prepa
red for anything.”

  The two guards nodded. The amiable expressions on their faces had instantly hardened into grimness.

  Val had them tie up their horses when they were about one hundred paces from what might be an enemy camp, so that they could quickly mount and flee. Pol could now confirm that there were three people in camp, and far away there might be five or six more in a rough line that probably meant they were positioned along the road. Perhaps they intended to ambush travelers.

  “Bandits?” Paki said, grinning. “We can do King Colvin a service.”

  Val glared at Paki. “We will approach the camp with all seriousness. We don’t know who is in the camp or why, but we can’t go in expecting a fight, although we need to be prepared.”

  Pol’s friend nodded and looked at the others. Pol put his hand on Paki’s shoulder as sign of encouragement.

  “Darrol, you go in with Lirro. We three will stay concealed,” Val said.

  Pol wondered why Darrol wouldn’t take Paki or him. That might disrupt the pattern better, but this encounter might not be practice, after all. Val gave Lirro and Darrol a few minutes before he sent Paki to his right and Pol to his left.

  “Don’t engage with anyone unless Darrol and Lirro need help. They are capable fighters, especially Darrol,” Val said.

  As long as he doesn’t trip, thought Pol.

  Pol and Paki nodded and moved as quietly as they could towards the camp. Pol concentrated on locating the three campers and Darrol and Lirro in his mind as he slid through the forest. Even if this were another practice session, Pol would treat it as the real thing.

  He continued to move away from the camp at an angle and then would use trees as blocks. Pol stopped and located the barely-noticeable colored dot of Val finally moving. He was about to converge on the campers when he noticed another faint color up ahead of him. The person remained still just outside the camp.

  Pol reached within the pattern that he saw and tried to make himself invisible, like Val and this other magician. Val hadn’t mentioned him, so he might not have detected the man’s presence. Four against three men and two boys might have changed Val’s mind, but it was too late now.

  He sneaked closer to the faint dot and concentrated, finally seeing his quarry, looking this way and that. Perhaps Pol’s concealment spell worked. As Pol worked his way closer, the hidden man had a strung bow in his hand.

  He looked closer and realized he might be the peashooter that had presumably left with King Astor. So the man was a magician as well. Pol slid his sword back into its sheath as quietly as he could and drew two throwing knives. He would have to get closer to his quarry to get in range.

  Voices broke the silence of the wood. Lirro and Darrol were talking to the three men. Val was out of sight, and Paki seemed to have stood still as well. The archer began to move towards the camp. He looked around him, searching for Pol’s location, showing frustration on his face, but he moved closer to the edge of the clearing and nocked an arrow.

  Pol couldn’t wait any longer and padded towards the man. He cocked his arm to throw the knife and hesitated. He thought of the man breathing, living, and questioning thoughts ran like lightning through his brain. He had felt fear before, but now the taking of the man’s life without being threatened had stayed his hand.

  The twang of the bowstring jerked Pol from his doubts, and he threw his knife, hitting his target in the side. The man looked at Pol with utter surprise on his face as he struggled to nock another arrow. Pol transferred his second knife to his throwing hand and let the knife fly beneath the outstretched arm of the archer. His knife sunk into the man’s chest just below his ribs as an arrow let fly towards Pol.

  Pol felt the impact of the arrow slide along his throwing arm, carving a streak of pain. He looked at the bloody sleeve of his shirt, ripped open, relieved that the arrow traveled outside of his arm and not on the inside. The sounds of fighting ceased in the clearing as Pol gasped for breath and his heart began to pound in his ears. He had held off the inevitable attack as long as he could. He sank to his knees and tried to gather himself as quickly as he could. He looked over at his foe and worried that the man wasn’t dead.

  With his sword in his left hand to assist, Pol knee-walked over to the archer and prodded the body to see if he was dead. The man, lying facedown, didn’t move, but Val arrived and gently pushed Pol aside. His bodyguard pulled out a long knife and pushed the archer over. Pol gasped at the glassy eyed stare of surprise.

  “He was a magician, like me,” Val said. “I didn’t notice him, but you did. Good work.” He began to quickly search the body and pulled out two purses. One held North Salvan coins and the other South Salvan. The South Salvan purse had a small leather tube that held five South Salvan Lions, with room for more.

  “We can assume that this man paid for Paki’s beating. I think he is the pea-shooter,” Pol said.

  “Undoubtedly. Lirro’s dead.” Val said, continuing his search until he pulled out a blowpipe, evidence this was the peashooter. “The man was an expert bowman. You were lucky.” He pocketed the purses, pulled out the throwing knives, and helped Pol into the clearing, but the worst of his short attack had ended. Four men were dead. Paki stood apart from the bodies, his sword still clean.

  “We’ll look like bandits,” Darrol said holding onto a fistful of purses. “We need to move out now.”

  Pol located the other ambushers with his mind and they hadn’t moved from their positions.

  “We should take the pea-shooter in. Now they’ll believe us,” Pol said.

  “Believe what? The King knows what happened. How will this man’s body change anything?” Val said.

  “I…” Pol furrowed his brow and thought for a moment. “It won’t change anything, other than vindicate me.” He felt deep disappointment well within him. “If we leave him here, we might not be suspected.”

  Val only grunted. “I’ll wrap your arm first,” Val said, pulling a roll of cloth from his pocket. “You should always carry something to bind wounds when you are out and about.” Val pulled back Pol’s sleeve and used a little bit of magic to close up the wound. “You’ve just seen the extent of my healing talent.”

  They walked back to the clearing and looked at the bodies. “I suppose they were counting on us coming from west. Not a bad guess, but we didn’t stick to their pattern, did we? Good for us, bad for them.”

  The way Val said it made Pol shiver, but he felt better having his wound bound up, and there was no blood to immediately soak the cloth.

  “We won’t waste any time getting you back to the infirmary. I think we are all a little nicked up, except for Paki. It’s better we keep our wounds to ourselves. Why, Pol?”

  “So we aren’t connected to the pattern in this camp?”

  Val nodded.

  Pol’s friend looked a bit sick as he helped Darrol drag Lirro’s body onto one of the bandit’s horses. Pol had been there when he lost Siggon, so he knew what it was to see a friend die. Val pushed them onward to their own mounts and found a suitable pathway to the road a mile closer to the castle from the ambush, where they rode the rest of the way to the castle without incident.

  ~~~

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  ~

  MALDEN EXAMINED POL’S ARM. “It might as well have been a knife, the cut is so straight and clean. Val did a fine job of sealing this up. Your collection of scars just grows.”

  “I didn’t get them on purpose,” Pol said. “I’m just lucky to be alive. I guess my throw put me or the pea shooter’s aim off enough to save me.”

  “No one will ever know which.”

  Val looked up from dozing in a chair in Pol’s bedroom. “Pol saved himself by locating the archer. The man’s location spell hid him from me and from Pol until the Prince was closer.”

  “I tried an invisibility spell, and I think it worked,” Pol said. “He was looking all around for me and didn’t find me until I had slowed him up.” Pol turned red as he remembered his hesitation
. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” Malden said.

  “I could have thrown my knife before he shot Lirro. It took me a few seconds to work up the nerve.”

  “Don’t be sorry. If that arrow was nocked and ready to shoot when you first hit him, he might have had enough strength to turn and shoot straighter, right at you,” Val said.

  “I don’t—”

  “Right. Don’t fixate on what might have been. I could have gone in with Darrol and Lirro and been the one to be killed. I’m sorry one of us had to die, but I’m not upset that it wasn’t me,” Val said.

  Pol had to gulp at Val’s coldness. However, his philosophy made even more sense this time than it did when he first talked to Pol. What Pol took for a cold heart seemed to be more of a practical approach to fate, now that he had been in the midst of it. He didn’t know if he believed in fate, but he knew a lot more about it since he had been assigned to read the religion text.

  “Still,” Pol continued to think about their trip. He had learned a lot more accompanying the army to the Taridan border about being out in the field. Pol had considered traveling with Kolli very instructive.

  “Still what?” Malden said.

  “I’ve been through more than any fourteen-year-old should have to go through,” Pol said.

  “Have you ever starved? Have you ever been sick when there wasn’t enough money to get a healer? Have you lost a close family member?” Val said, but then he softened up. “I’m sorry about that. Siggon was like an uncle, wasn’t he?”

  Pol nodded. “I guess I’ve had a different set of troubles.”

  “I’ll agree with that,” Malden said. “Nothing physical for a few days. Give your arm a chance to heal inside. Val has given it a head start.”

  The door opened to Pol’s rooms. Val stood up with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “King Colvin and Queen Molissa are here to see their son,” a voice announced from the sitting room.

  Val straightened up his clothes as the King and Queen of North Salvan entered Pol’s bedroom. Malden moved to stand beside Val next to the window.

 

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