Ties of Destiny (Curse of the Crown Book 1)

by Caitlin Taylor

  “It’s this or nothing.”

  The Prince nodded, resigning himself.

  They both got changed quickly. Jeffrey could feel the Prince’s eyes on him as they did. Jeffrey took their actual clothes, wrapped them up and hid them behind the crates, adding their swords as well. “I’m loath to go into town without weapons but swords are too obvious, so I borrowed two daggers. I assume you’d be able to use one if push came to shove?”

  “Of course, but where do we wear them?”

  “Strapped against your back,” Jeffrey replied and helped the Prince to fasten his dagger before sorting his own. The clothes they were wearing were loose enough that the dagger’s outline would not be visible. Even with the scabbard, it was flat and small enough to be easily concealed. Yet if necessary, they would be able to reach it and use it to defend themselves. Jeffrey had another smaller knife that he strapped to his leg underneath his trousers. It eased his nervousness, at least a little.

  Looking at the Prince, Jeffrey smirked at the change. But they weren’t done. He bent down and ran both his hands over the floor, then rubbed them against each other. “Close your eyes,” he said.

  “Jeffrey...” the Prince said wearily.

  “You said you’d do as I asked.” With a heavy sigh the Prince closed his eyes. Jeffrey ran both his hands over the Prince’s face, neck and through his hair. Lastly, he rubbed both Akoni’s hands as well, making sure to get as much of him looking grimy as he could. “Now if you could try to stand less straight and look a bit less imposing you’ll be alright,” he said while covering himself in grime as well.

  “Less imposing. How am I supposed to do that?”

  “Hunch over a bit maybe,” Jeffrey suggested, imitating a stooped walk.

  “Like that’s gonna make me look less suspicious,” the Prince laughed.

  “True. Your accent is much more damaging. You can speak other languages, right? Could you try speaking with a foreign accent? It’ll explain why you’re clueless to our ways.”

  “Uou mean like zis?” the Prince asked, trying to put on his best accent.

  Jeffrey had to bite back a laugh. “Just like that. Well then, let’s go.” He led the way to a small door, hidden behind more crates. Jeffrey produced a key and opened it easily. Once they were on the other side, Jeffrey made sure to lock the door again. They continued past more doors and crates and barrels and came to another door, this one reinforced with metal. Once again Jeffrey unlocked it.

  They were outside the palace, in a dark alley, the only sounds coming from far away.

  “Ta-da,” Jeffrey whispered.

  “So far so excellent. Where to now?”

  “I know just the place,” Jeffrey said and lead the disguised Prince away. They walked for a time, both unchallenged and unobserved. The streets only gradually became more crowded, but no one paid them any particular attention. They were two more labourers wandering the city after a long day’s work.

  They came to a large gate, with guards posted at either side of it. People were flocking through in masses that they could not have checked if they’d tried. Jeffrey and the Prince, mixed with the other city folk, were swallowed by the throng, pushed along by sheer force of numbers. Once on the other side of the gate, the pressure eased up again as the path widened once more and people dispersed.

  “The market,” the Prince said his eyes opened wide.

  “Thought it’d be a good place to start,” Jeffrey replied. In front of them lay an enormous square filled with endless rows of stalls, with colourful canopies in all colours, selling just about anything. Merchants were calling to the people passing by. The smell of roasting meat mixed with herbs and spices, perfumes, and untold others.

  “Fantastic place, more like!” the Prince gushed, his eyes lit up.

  The Prince’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Jeffrey couldn’t help but smile adoringly at his eagerness. “Well then, let’s go. But bear in mind that we’ve no money to buy fancy things.”

  They headed into the throng of people, spending a long time walking from one stall to another, the Prince getting more excited with everything he saw. He seemed to want to touch and try everything. Many of the stall owners shooed them away, others ignored them, yet others watched them like hawks in case they dared touch anything. It was clear that many merchants thought they were about to steal something.

  “Did we need to be quite so poor?” the Prince whispered after they had been sent away by yet another merchant.

  “Absolutely.”

  After some time, the Prince stopped where he stood and looked around. People passed by, some cursed at him for blocking the way, but no one looked twice. No one cared. Jeffrey watched him drink it all in, gaze moving this way and that. Observing the people, some carrying heavy loads, some dragging carts, some were browsing the wares on offer. Everybody went about their day.

  “Are you alright?” Jeffrey asked somewhat concerned when the Prince continued to stare at their surroundings, only moving to turn his head.

  “Never better,” the Prince replied with a smile. A moment later he turned to look at Jeffrey. “Thank you, you have no idea what a gift this is.” He took Jeffrey’s hands and pulled him close. “How perfect this is,” he whispered.

  Jeffrey smiled back. “We’re far from done. Care for more?” the Prince nodded eagerly, and so Jeffrey led him away from the market. They left the square, walked along the main road for a time, then turned off into a side street. A few turns later, Jeffrey stopped outside a tavern. “Thirsty?” he asked. The Prince laughed but nodded and let Jeffrey lead him inside.

  They took a seat in an area where they weren’t hiding but not quite in plain sight either. A waiter brought them ale. Clinking the tankards, they each took a sip, the Prince almost choking on his. He coughed hard while Jeffrey laughed.

  “Not quite what you’re used to, is it?”

  “How could anyone be used to this?” the Prince demanded.

  “After the second, your tongue will be so numb you can’t tell the taste anymore.”

  “Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Jeffrey shrugged and took another sip. “You’re giving me the worst of the worst, aren’t you?”

  “Pretty average actually. If you know no better, there’s nothing to complain about.”

  “That sounds rather tragic,” the Prince said and frowned.

  They both went quiet when at the table next to them, two men sat down deep in conversation, one of them a bald man with a missing front tooth, the other a little younger, a scar covering one cheek.

  “Did you hear that them rebels apparently attacked Terving? They’ve come so close. To think that we could be next...” the bald man said.

  “Yeah... wonder why the legion haven’t put a stop to that yet. Not like those imperials are fighting any wars now. Probably sitting round getting fat.”

  “Don’t know about that now. I hear they’re fighting them alright. My cousin was on leave not long ago. Came to visit us here in the city. They’re out patrolling all the time, but he says there’s too few of them. That lot doesn’t have many people, but they move around, never stay in place very long so they’re hard to catch, he says. If they had more people, they could cover more ground.”

  “Biggest Empire but no soldiers. How’d that happen? Maybe those rebels have the right of it. Maybe they’d do a better job,” the scarred man said.

  “Naw, I don’t like them lot. The King might not be the best one we’ve had but I can’t see those rebels do a better job. All they do is fight and cause trouble. Heard they rob people’s homes and kill anyone that won’t join their cause.”

  “I heard that alright. I’ll join any cause if it saves my life,” the scarred man rumbled and took a deep swig of his ale.

  “What do you think they’ll ask you to do? You’ll hardly be sitting around drinking stale ale. They’d have you out there looting other people’s homes; robbing and murdering your neighbours. You’re too much of a coward for that. They’d see i
t in ya, won’t be likely to give ya the chance to join,” the bald man said.

  “And what about you? Not like you’re a shining example of bravery! Still shovelling your neighbours’ shit away.”

  “Ah, he’s an old trout. No dealing with him...” the bald man said and waved a hand dismissively.

  “Do you think them rebels are responsible for the Prince’s assassination?” the scarred man asked after a moment’s silence.

  Both Jeffrey and Akoni looked at each other at hearing those words. Jeffrey couldn’t help but turn to the man. “Good man, did you say the Prince was assassinated?”

  “Yes, only they didn’t succeed. They say he survived the attack,” the scarred man replied.

  “Where’d you get that rubbish from? The Prince attacked,” the bald man said, clucking his tongue.

  “Hasn’t anyone heard? My sister’s girlfriend works at the palace. She says, all the servants are talking about it. So badly hurt he didn’t leave his quarters for three days. The royal physician was in and out of his room lots. Seems to be recovered now though.”

  “Thank the Goddess,” Jeffrey said. “But who would dare something like that?”

  “No one knows. They’ve not found him, who did it,” the scarred man answered.

  “Why the Prince though? If it was those rebels, wouldn’t it make more sense to go for the King?” the Prince asked in his best accent.

  “Hard to get to him though, more guards and all. I hear the Prince only has the one.”

  “That’s because he’s a legendary fighter himself, everyone knows that,” the bald man said.

  “So they say, but he don’t fight much. Not in real fights. Imagine if they succeeded. The King’s old, without an heir... they would just need to bide their time, wouldn’t they?”

  “But without the Prince...” Jeffrey trailed off.

  “There won’t be much hope left without him,” the bald man said.

  “Then again, he’s hardly a shining star on the horizon either, is he?”

  “I think he gets a lot of bad rep. Imagine what it must be like with that father,” the bald man said.

  “If you think about it,” Jeffrey said, “all anyone ever hears about him is second hand at best. Much of it is really hearsay.”

  “But what’s the last time he was seen in the city? Last time he’s done anything for anyone?” the scarred man asked.

  “Maybe he works in the background a lot,” the Prince said.

  “Background my arse. He’s having a great old time with them fancy folk, that’s what he does.”

  “I hear he’s recently been supporting efforts against the rebels,” Jeffrey said, cautiously looking at Akoni, who gave the faintest nod. “Working with the generals, sending money and troops to struggling regions.”

  “He should have done that months ago, before they became so big and widespread.”

  “Suppose it’s really the King who should have done that before. Considering he didn’t, I think it’s good the Prince did,” Jeffrey said defensively.

  “What do you think stopped the King from taking action?” the bald man asked.

  “I hear no one in the castle is allowed to use the word rebel. In case the King could hear it,” the scarred man said.

  “That’s messed up. How can he know what’s going on when no one can tell him?” the bald man asked.

  “Isn’t that a great question. He probably doesn’t want to know what’s going on. Just hides behind his fancy palace walls and decorated guards and has one party after another for his lords.”

  “You know, with the ascension curse, there’s some hope. If it makes a bad King out of a good person, then surely it’ll make a good King out of a bad person, right?”

  “That’s a bit optimistic, isn’t it?” the scarred man said.

  “Do we have much left other than hope and optimism?”

  Jeffrey and the Prince left the tavern in a rather subdued mood. The conversation with the strangers had affected the Prince. He was quiet and withdrawn, hardly paying any attention to their surroundings, where he’d previously been excited by every detail.

  “Do you want to go back?” Jeffrey asked.

  “Hmm?” the Prince murmured, then looked at Jeffrey. “I’m a bit distracted, aren’t I? I’m sorry.”

  “It’s a lot to take in. Let’s call it a night.”

  The Prince stepped closer and reached for Jeffrey’s hand, linking it with his own. Jeffrey looked up in surprise but when he saw the Prince smiling at him, he smiled back. Unhurriedly they strolled back towards the palace, enjoying the simple contact.

  Soon after leaving the tavern they walked along a road that had numerous people standing either side. Some in pairs and engaged in conversations, some alone, leaning against the house walls, their clothes near non-existent. Jeffrey could see understanding dawning when the Prince’s face changed, his eyes going wide, mouth hung open. The grip on Jeffrey’s hand tightened.

  Two men with their hands linked, they didn’t make for promising clients and were ignored for the most part. Only a few bold women called after them, making various suggestions, none of them clean but some particularly inventive.

  They ignored the calls and simply kept walking. A boy appeared in front of them in a state of undress that left no doubt that he too was there to ply his trade. Jeffrey was about to walk past him when the Prince stopped and stared at the boy.

  “Good sirs, what are you interested in? I’ll do anything for the right price.”

  “Aren’t you a bit young to be doing this?” the Prince asked.

  “I’m as young as you want me to be. Makes it more fun.” The boy winked.

  Jeffrey noted that the boy shivered in the cold night air and though he made an effort to seem eager, it was clear that he’d rather have been anywhere else.

  “Where are your parents?” the Prince asked.

  “I think three is plenty, sir. I promise I can take good care of you both at the same time.”

  “There must be other jobs you could do. You look strong enough. Did you ever try the palace for work?”

  “The palace,” the boy laughed humourlessly. “Three times they turned me away. Please, sirs, I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Jeffrey observed the people around them, watching for possible threats, when he felt a slight tugging on his hand. He caught the Prince’s gaze.

  “Can I borrow some money?”

  Jeffrey was about to protest but pleading blue eyes were trained on him. He sighed and took out a few coins, handing them to the Prince, who gave a grateful smile.

  “Thanks, I’ll pay you back later.” He turned to the boy. “I’ve a condition.”

  “I’ll do anything.”

  “Good, then you will use this money to feed yourself and whatever brothers and sisters you’re looking after. You’ll get off the street tonight and tomorrow you’ll go to the palace. Ask for Paul and tell him you were sent by Manchu. Will you do that?” the Prince asked and held out the money.

  The boy looked at it hesitantly. “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch. Take the money and I’ll be on my way.”

  “Who are you? Manchu is a funny name.”

  “I’m not from here, as I’m sure you can hear. Let’s say I like to help.”

  Wide-eyed, the boy took the money and waited. The Prince smiled at the boy, linked his hand with Jeffrey’s again and walked. When Jeffrey looked over his shoulder, the boy still stared after them. Catching Jeffrey’s eyes, he turned and ran away.

  “That was unexpected,” Jeffrey said after they’d been walking in silence for a time.

  “The boy?”

  “No, you.” The Prince shrugged in response. “It was very kind of you.”

  “I’m not all bad. But clearly, my reputation is much worse than I thought.”

  “Is that why you did it? He doesn’t know who you are.”

  “No. I used to visit orphanages, make donations, help out. I used to visit hosp
itals too. My father didn’t like either very much. It made me too popular.”

  Jeffrey wasn’t sure what to say, so instead, he gave the Prince’s hand a squeeze. “You did well tonight,” he said. “I liked the Manchu reference.”

  “I could hardly give my name and Paul will understand but the boy wouldn’t know what it means.”

  “Who is Paul?”

  “Really?” the Prince asked, raising an eyebrow at Jeffrey. At the look of incomprehension, he laughed. “You’ll see soon enough if the boy does as I asked.”

  Jeffrey shrugged, and they kept walking. The Prince smiled, a look Jeffrey liked on him.

  They arrived in the alley with the secret passage and Jeffrey stopped, lying a finger over his lips. The Prince raised an eyebrow at him. Jeffrey waited, listening.

  Certain that no one had followed them, and they were alone in the alley, Jeffrey unlocked the door and let them back in. He waited again for any signs that someone might have followed. But there were no footsteps, nor did anyone try the door itself. The house that the door seemed to lead into, was still a good distance from the palace and was not linked to it above ground. So even if someone had seen them, there was no direct way to link them to the palace.

  Heading further in, Jeffrey made sure all the doors were securely locked after they had passed through. In the room with their clothes, the Prince made to get changed when Jeffrey stopped him.

  “We’re not exactly clean looking. Putting our own clothes on would still make us look suspicious. I’ve an idea if you’re up for it. A surprise, if you will. Do you trust me?”

  “You already asked me that earlier tonight. And by this point, it should really be clear that I do.”

  “Just checking,” Jeffrey laughed. He picked up their clothes and made sure they were still wrapped neatly before handing the bundle to the Prince. He did the same for their swords, which he carried himself, making sure they didn’t obviously look like swords. “Servants carry all kinds of stuff to every part of the palace. Let’s fit in. It’s late and we probably won’t meet anyone, if we do, let me do the talking, alright?”