King's Blood

by Jill Williamson

  “Actually . . .” She touched her throat. “I would like my shard necklace. I had packed it in Zeroah’s trunk before she cast me out.”

  Well, that wasn’t right. “If she has something of yours, she should return it to you.”

  “I doubt she knows she has it,” Mielle said.

  Trevn sat up. “Then let’s ask her.”

  “Oh, no, Trevn. I don’t want to speak with her.”

  He pushed himself off the bed and reached back for her hands. “You don’t have to. I will.” He pulled her up until she was standing in front of him. “Let me try, please?”

  “Thank you, Trevn.” And she kissed him.

  Trevn, Mielle, and Cadoc found the door to Lady Zeroah’s cabin locked. No one answered when they knocked, so Trevn decided to find another way in. “Wait here with Miss Mielle, Sir Cadoc.”

  “What are you going to do?” Cadoc asked.

  Trevn grinned. “You’ll see.”

  “Why is this so important, Your Highness?” Cadoc asked.

  “Because we must find Miss Mielle’s . . .” But Trevn could not remember what she had lost. “What was it, Mielle?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t recall. It must not be very important.”

  But it was. He just knew it. Why couldn’t he remember? “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  “Hurry,” Mielle called after him. “I don’t like being here when I can’t remember why.”

  Trevn ran up to the stern deck, found a length of rope, and tied it on the rail above where he thought Lady Zeroah’s cabin to be. It was then that he remembered they had been looking for Mielle’s shard necklace. How strange that they’d forgotten before.

  Trevn swung his legs over the rail and lowered himself quickly, winking at two boys who were staring. Hand over hand he let himself down past the port windows of his father’s cabin. Another level down brought him to the square window of Lady Zeroah’s cabin. He pushed the curtains aside and kicked his legs through the opening. He waved up at the boys, who were now watching him from over the stern rail, then slid into the cabin.

  The room smelled dank and slightly of decay. He pushed open the curtains to give himself enough light to see his way to the door and wondered how Lady Zeroah had locked it from the inside when she was not here. He unlatched it, opened it, and Mielle, whose back was to him as she faced Cadoc, yelped and spun around.

  “You madperson!” She swatted his arm. “How did you get in there?”

  He pulled her inside and shut the door in Cadoc’s face. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “I still don’t remember why we’re here.”

  “To find your shard necklace,” Trevn said.

  “Oh, that’s right!” Mielle tugged at his sleeve. “But she will catch us. Then she will hate me even more.”

  “She is horrible for hating you in the least.” He scrutinized the cabin and found two trunks under the desk. He set upon them like a treasure hunter but found nothing but dresses upon dresses. Mielle searched a small box on top of the sideboard that contained jewelry.

  “It’s not here,” Mielle said. “Perhaps she discarded it.”

  “Knowing what it meant to you?”

  Mielle shrugged and sat down on the bed. “I refuse to believe I was so deceived by her. She is not an evil person. I must have done something to wrong her, but I can’t think what.”

  Trevn opened a cupboard on the sideboard and caught sight of a bronze canister embossed with a prickly leaf design. He reached for it but stopped when Mielle called to him.

  “There is a trunk under here. Can you help me?”

  Trevn joined Mielle at the bed built against the bulkhead. He got down on his knees and pulled out an ornate wooden trunk, which took far more effort than expected. “This is heavy.”

  Mielle crouched beside him and reached for the latch. “And locked.”

  Trevn grinned. “I can pick locks.”

  “Who would teach a sâr such a thing?”

  “I taught myself.” He reached into her hair and pulled out a hairpin. “This should work.”

  A curl fell loose, dangling down past her chin. Trevn resisted the urge to tug it and started working on the lock. With Mielle watching so eagerly, it took much longer to open than he would have liked. When finally the latch sprung, he sat back and let Mielle do the honors.

  She lifted the lid and screamed.

  “What?” Trevn lunged forward to see inside.

  Lady Zeroah’s gaunt face looked up at him, eyes frantic, lips cracked and bleeding. An awful smell wafted from her emaciated body, which had been forced into a fetal position, her feet curled in on one another.

  “Oh, Zeroah! What has happened?” Mielle lifted the lady’s limp hand in both of hers.

  Trevn stared at Lady Zeroah, thoughts clicking into place. He recalled Wilek’s story of what had happened to Hrettah. “Wilek said the mantic who kidnapped him had once looked like Lady Lebetta. What if the same woman took Lady Zeroah’s likeness?”

  “Yes.” Mielle stared at him, face lit with a certainty that brought both relief and fear. “That would explain everything. Oh, Zeroah! You didn’t abandon me after all!”

  “We must trap the impostor before she realizes we know,” Trevn said.

  “First we must free Zeroah from this trunk. Help her, Trevn. Then call Master Uhley.”

  Trevn stood, grabbed Lady Zeroah under the arms, and lifted. She did not come easily, but once he managed to budge her, she rose with effort. Her knees remained tight against her chest, her feet tucked beneath her. Trevn carried her to the bed and laid her there. She rolled to her side, still curled into a ball.

  They stood over her, staring, when suddenly she whispered, “Have they wed?”

  Mielle sat on the bed and took hold of Lady Zeroah’s hand. “What, dearest?”

  “Sâr Wilek,” she croaked. “Married?”

  “No! Oh, Zeroah, he isn’t. The wedding was postponed. She has not taken your place.”

  “Arman be praised.” Zeroah began to cry.

  Mielle stroked her hand and tried to calm her.

  Horrified, Trevn turned away. It all made sense now. Wilek’s story about the mantic who had abducted him. She must have followed him and captured Lady Zeroah, still trying to achieve her goal of conceiving a Deliverer for Magonia.

  Trevn went out into the crossway where Cadoc was still waiting. “Find Lady Zeroah and see that she is detained. Do not frighten her. Tell her Wilek wants to speak with her about the wedding and to wait for him in the captain’s dining room. Post a half dozen guards outside and order them to keep her there on threat of their lives. She is a mantic and might be dangerous. Then find Wilek and bring him here. Tell him that Lady Zeroah has suffered a grievous mishap.”

  “I don’t understand,” Cadoc said. “Lady Zeroah has suffered an accident here, yet I am to find her elsewhere?”

  Trevn didn’t want to risk sending the full truth to Wilek by message. He would explain everything once his brother arrived. “Do not ask questions,” Trevn said. “Simply do your part. All will be explained in time. Now go!”

  Wilek

  Wilek raced through the crossways and lengthways, Harton and Novan keeping pace behind him. Sir Cadoc’s message had left Wilek wildly frantic and confused. Not only had the shield known nothing of what had befallen Lady Zeroah, he had looked utterly shamefaced, as if he were keeping a secret. Wilek hoped that Janek had in no way been involved. He reached the appropriate door and found Trevn standing outside.

  “Lady Zeroah is a mantic in disguise!” Trevn spat out. “Sir Cadoc is detaining her in the captain’s dining room on the pretense that you wish to discuss plans for your wedding. We found the real Lady Zeroah in here. She is alive but quite weak.”

  Understanding instantly gave way to mortification, and Wilek clenched his jaw to keep from screaming. No wonder Lady Zeroah had gone to Janek, had dismissed Mielle, had been desperate to marry. He should have seen this. Of course Charlon woul
d have chosen his intended as a mask. How had this not occurred to him the moment she first had spoken after his return from Canden? Had she been so good an actress? That his oversight might have brought harm upon the real Lady Zeroah . . .

  Trevn tugged on Wilek’s arm. “Brother, are you listening?”

  “Lady Zeroah . . . the real one. She has been here all this time?”

  “In a trunk under the bed,” Trevn said softly. “I called your mother and the physician. They are with her now.”

  Alarm rang through Wilek, and he barged past Trevn and into the cabin. Even with the curtains tied open to let in the chilled sea air, the cabin stank of body odor and urine. One of his mother’s little dogs yipped at his ankles. He stepped over it, located the physician standing at the bedside, and found his mother and Miss Mielle sitting on the foot of the bed, a frail woman between them.

  Lady Zeroah. She sat hunched over, staring down at the floor in that familiar way of hers. It had been too long since he’d seen her bashfulness.

  “What has happened here?” he demanded.

  All faces turned toward him. Lady Zeroah cried out and hid her face in the crook of Miss Mielle’s arm.

  “Wilek.” His mother stood, blocking his view of Lady Zeroah. “Ask Sâr Trevn your questions while you calm down.”

  “Forgive me,” Wilek said, embarrassed by the entire ordeal. “I am only concerned for the lady’s welfare.” He twisted around, found Trevn standing by the door and holding the dog. “Tell me how you came to discover this great evil.”

  “We came here looking for Miss Mielle’s necklace,” Trevn said, scratching the dog’s ear. “She had last seen it packed in Lady Zeroah’s trunk, but since their falling out . . . The cabin was locked—I mean, empty, so I . . .” He shifted the dog into his other arm. “We came inside to have a quick look.”

  Wilek walked to the window, saw the rope swinging outside, and stifled a sigh.

  “It was a good thing too,” Trevn said in his defense. “We found Lady Zeroah in that trunk. She looked near death.”

  “Dehydrated,” Master Uhley said. “Malnourished as well.”

  Wilek eyed the trunk Trevn had indicated. It seemed so very small to house a person. “How long has she been a prisoner?”

  “Since a week past the day I received the letter renewing your pledge,” Lady Zeroah said, her voice but a whisper. “Twenty-nine days total if my marks are to be trusted.” She pointed to crude hash marks along the inner rim of the open trunk.

  Horror rose up inside Wilek as he stared at the marks. Arman, why? He forced his gaze away, walked toward the end of the bed, past where his mother stood screening the victim from view. His gaze found Lady Zeroah’s, her golden eyes sunken and dim. “So very long?”

  She looked away.

  “Arman kept her safe,” Mother said, stroking the girl’s hair.

  But why had the God let her get captured at all? Wilek turned back to Trevn. “You said Sir Cadoc has detained the impostor in the captain’s dining cabin?”

  “That’s right,” Trevn said. “He told her you wish to discuss your wedding.”

  Lady Zeroah whimpered, drawing Wilek’s attention back to her frailness. “Does the name Charlon mean anything to you, lady?” he asked.

  Golden eyes peeked around Mother’s arm and met his gaze. Lady Zeroah nodded, loosing a tear down one cheek. “Charlon took my place. The woman called Mreegan used the face of my grandfather.” Tears welled thickly in her eyes. “Grandfather’s heart gave out, so Mreegan became Flara instead. But Charlon said Flara is dead now too.”

  So solved the mystery of King Jorger’s whereabouts. “I am deeply sorry, lady. Your losses have been great.” And what about Princess Nabelle? Did Lady Zeroah know that her mother had died in the Five Woes? “Is Chieftess Mreegan aboard the Seffynaw too?” he asked. “And what of their men and the other maidens?”

  “The men sail aboard the Vespara, a ship they stole from my grandfather. Mreegan returned there weeks ago. She had run out of evenroot powder and wanted Charlon to leave with her. But Charlon refused. She had found a new supply of evenroot.”

  Because she had killed Teaka. “Where does she keep the evenroot?”

  “I know not. She does not take it in front of me.”

  Wilek reached toward Lady Zeroah, who shied back from his hand. He paused, wondering if he shouldn’t touch her. He decided he must and set his hand on her shoulder, which felt bony beneath her filthy gown. She flinched but this time did not draw back. “I will avenge you, lady.” He gave her shoulder a soft squeeze, bowed to her, then told his mother, “See that her every wish is granted. I must deal with the impostor.” He turned and quitted the room. Novan and Harton were waiting outside, and the three set off for the stairwell.

  “Wilek!” Trevn called after him. “Do you need help?”

  Wilek glanced back. Trevn stood just outside the door, still holding the dog. “Stay with her, Trevn. Make sure she is taken care of. I must not lose her again.”

  “Of course,” Trevn said. “You can count on me.”

  Wilek, Harton, and Novan made their way to the captain’s dining room. They found Sir Cadoc and a squadron of King’s Guards in front of the door. Wilek stopped, suddenly hesitant to enter.

  “This woman is capable of great magic, Harton. Am I foolish to confront her?” He glanced back to get his shield’s reaction, but only Novan stood behind him. “Where is Harton?”

  Novan spun around. “He was right behind me.”

  “The one person who can advise me on such matters.” Wilek rubbed his chin, frustrated. “Perhaps we should simply kill her.”

  Novan frowned. “Kill an unarmed woman?”

  “She is armed, Novan. With magic.”

  Novan’s brows sank. “I am yours to command, Your Highness,” he said, drawing his sword.

  Wilek set his hand on Novan’s arm. “No swords yet. Let me talk to her first. I want her to know she has been discovered. I want to see what she will do.” He waved the guards back from the door. “Stay here, all of you.” He knocked twice, then let himself in. Novan followed and shut the door behind them.

  Lady Zeroah—Charlon—sat at one end of the table, in the king’s place, Wilek couldn’t help but notice. She stood, curtsied, and smoothed out her skirt as she stepped away from the chair. “You wanted to speak to me, Your Highness?” she asked.

  Wilek approached slowly, marveling at how well her spell was cast. “Lady, do you think it appropriate to have a human sacrifice at a wedding?”

  Her eyes lit up. “Would you like one?”

  “My father’s idea,” Wilek said. “I told him it was finally time to plan my wedding to Lady Zeroah, and he went on with all kinds of nonsense about pleasing the gods. I am against human sacrifice on principle, but if you insist on attending the celebration, that is the only way I shall accept your presence there.”

  A wrinkle on her forehead deepened. “If I insist, Your Highness?”

  “Novan, with me.” Wilek strode toward her, grabbed her shoulders, and pushed her against the bulkhead. Novan was at his side in a breath, sword drawn.

  Charlon grabbed his arms and dug with her fingernails. “What are you doing? Release me!”

  “I underestimated you, Charlon,” Wilek said.

  Her eyes swelled and her lips stretched into a smile. “You know. How?”

  “We found Lady Zeroah in a trunk.”

  Her brow pinched. “I regret the pain I caused her.” She glanced at Novan, then over Wilek’s shoulder. “Where is my brother?”

  Wilek nearly let go. “Your brother?”

  “I recognized Harton Sonber at once, though he did not know me through my mask,” Charlon said.

  That couldn’t be. Wilek glanced at Novan, whose confusion matched his own. “Harton never mentioned having a sister.” Was this why the man had slipped away?

  “He would never have told you. That he sold his sister. Who was thirteen. To a brothel. Took the money to become a soldier. A soldier
in Armania.”

  No wonder Lady Zeroah had so disliked Harton. Because Charlon disliked him. “You are Charlon Sonber?”

  She spoke a foreign word and began to change, slowly. Height shrank, figure swelled, skin lightened to a reddish brown, eyes turned from gold to icy gray. Her hair lightened as well, now brown and curly and a great deal shorter that Lady Zeroah’s jet-black lengths. Several hair pins dropped to the floor, followed by a coil of braided hair.

  “Twice you’ve come for me, and twice you’ve failed,” Wilek said. “I will not give you a third opportunity.”

  Her nostrils flared. “I don’t need one. Your brother Janek did what you would not. I carry his child. A child who will deliver Magonia from the tyranny of men.”

  Janek! “You have maligned the reputation of a kind and innocent lady. You have helped kill a housemaid. Murdered my advisor. No doubt caused the death of the King of Sarikar. I wouldn’t be surprised to discover you have committed more than twice that list of crimes. And now you will die. Novan, make it count.”

  The backman lifted the point of his sword to her breast, but before he could strike, an explosion threw Wilek to the floor. He rolled all the way across the room. The door opened against his leg, and Rayim and several guards rushed inside, exclaiming over the damage.

  Rayim crouched and helped Wilek sit. “Are you all right?”

  Wilek pushed Rayim aside so he could see. A hole had been ripped right through the bulkhead. Wilek crawled toward it, scrambling to his feet as he went. He passed by two guards helping Novan stand and reached the hole where a third guard grabbed his arm.

  “Careful, Your Highness. It’s a long ways down.”

  Below, the Northsea surged, carrying the ship along. He saw no sign of anyone in the water. He lifted his gaze, scanning the water farther out and eventually the horizon and dusky sky. Night was falling. Please let her be gone, Arman. Forever.

  Novan appeared at his side, brushing splintered wood from his uniform. “Where did she go?”

  “If she values her life, off this ship,” Wilek said, loud enough that anyone who might be invisible would hear. “Find me Agmado Harton. Now!”