“Years ago, before the Ranger was, well, the Ranger, he came up to Kelkor with Marl. He was there to try to convince Paranella to marry him because of the alliance. Serena was still a squire and ended up hanging around the Ranger most of the time they were there. I guess they were really good friends and then, when it came time for Paranella to decide who she would marry, Marl came forward with more support from the country. Serena had told the Ranger stuff she shouldn’t have, things about the unrest to the east due to Shadow Dale and Marl had spent all of his time in Kelkor causing trouble there, getting the Lords, Counts, Dukes, and Earls of the eastern lands on his side.
“Paranella was livid. She told Marl never to return to Kelkor again because he’d torn the country with that information, had promised bloodshed and war against Shadow Dale, which was exactly what she wanted to avoid. Then she went after the council in Kelkor to find out how Marl had learned that, and it came down on Serena. She was accused of being a Thornten spy for telling the Ranger all of that. But she had really believed that she could trust the Ranger, I honestly think she loved him. It had turned out that Marl had set him to learn what he could, and, after that, Serena and he had a fight. Like drawn blades and everything, she tried to kill him. Which didn’t go over well with King Temrod of Thornten, the Ranger’s father. He threatened to support Shadow Dale in attacking if Serena wasn’t condemned. I’m not sure how, though, but eventually he dropped that threat.”
Niet grimaced. “And because of that, she nearly didn’t get to become a knight. She spent two years on probation, she had to live and fight in the Eastern Lands for that time, to defend the border against Shadow Dale. Only after she’d proven herself did Paranella let her come back. And by then, she was one of the best knights. She’s never let anyone doubt her loyalties since then. She’s hated the Ranger ever since and now, with Kelkor falling because of the uprisings, I think she thinks it’s still her fault.”
“Thornten,” Will whispered. He leaned back against the tree behind him, staring at the lightening forest, and felt confusion, pain, betrayal, all twist inside his chest. He’d known that the Ranger had served other Kings, that he had been a Prince of Thornten, but somehow he had never imagined him doing something this terrible. He thought of Serena’s fury, of her hatred, and of all that the Ranger had done and felt a stab of pity. “I can’t blame her for hating him.”
“Nor can I,” Niet agreed somberly. “But I wish, sometimes, she could just let the past be in the past. He’s proven he’d do anything to make it right. He nearly died getting Kalia to safety, and now he’s been captured because of us.”
Will nodded, thinking of his discussion with Serena, of her insisting the Ranger would use him for personal gain. This was why then. Because she felt that she’d been used in that way.
“You’d better get some sleep, Will, you look awful,” Niet said.
Will snorted, grinning in spite of himself. “Thanks for the compliment.”
“You’re welcome.” Niet pushed himself to his feet, stretching. “Come on, go get some rest. You’ll need it. We have more distance to cover after this and I’m not tired yet.”
Will nodded and climbed to his own feet, his body aching. Even though his mind was teeming with this new information, with the events of the night, he had to admit that Niet was right. He needed rest. They would be reaching the edge of the forest by that night and he’d need to be prepared. They’d have to come up with plans, with ways to rescue the Ranger.
Again, the image of Serena’s anger flashed before Will’s eyes and his stomach clenched painfully. There were those, like Serena, who wouldn’t think the Ranger deserved this rescue, deserved a second chance.
***
He woke to the faint smell of smoke and, opening his eyes, sat up to see that the other three were clustered around a fire, talking in low voices. Glancing upwards, Will was surprised to find that the sun had shifted to the west, its light reflecting on the pools of water that surrounded their makeshift camp.
“We were starting to wonder when you’d wake up,” Rowan called, grinning, as Will joined them at the fire’s edge. He pushed a bag toward Will, brows raised. “Want some breakfast…maybe it’s dinner…oh bloody blazes of Thornten’s walls–want some food? It’s dried beef I nicked from the kitchen when we were working.”
“Smart move, Rowan. Thanks,” Will said, pulling out a handful of dried beef. His stomach growled at the tangy smell. “You all should have woke me, you must be exhausted,” he said, turning to Niet.
Niet shook his head, smirking. “I’ve already slept. Rowan and Colin watched a while. We decided you needed sleep, though, after the last few days.”
Feeling somewhat sheepish, Will nodded, chewing the dried beef and taking in their surroundings again. The forest here was thick, the trees close together, heavy with spring foliage. Somewhere in the undergrowth, he could hear the whisper of running water, a small creek, perhaps the result of the deluge the night before.
“We need to get closer to Thornten,” Will said at last, turning to the others. “We need to be prepared.”
“What we need is a plan,” Colin countered. “We can move closer when it’s dark again, it’ll be safer that way. My concern is that we’ve spent so much time trying to get out of Alamore that we didn’t even bargain on what would happen when we got here.”
“I thought the plan was just to walk in, pick up the Ranger, find a nice place for a cup of tea, and get back before dinner,” Rowan said, grinning. He had to duck as Colin picked up a handful of muddy earth and chucked it at him.
“So, the execution, it’s to take place in the castle then?” Niet asked, turning to Will.
“It’s not going to take place,” Colin growled, and Will felt a mad urge to laugh at the squire’s sudden resemblance to Ross.
“The courtyard, at least that’s what Robin figured, and he used to be Tollien’s squire.” Will ran a hand through his hair. “But I’ve never been in the castle. We’ve only been as far as Thorwal and…well…” His voice drifted as the painful memory of that day rushed back.
“This won’t be like that,” Rowan assured him, still wiping mud from his shoulder. “We know Marl’s a prat now, so that’s a big difference.”
“Our best bet is to either come in with the crowds who enter to celebrate or with the help that arrives beforehand,” Niet said flatly. “Either way, Will, they will be looking for you.”
“Yeah, so what?” Will demanded, annoyed. “I’m not staying behind if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“It’d be safer if…” Colin started but catching Will’s eye he stopped.
“For the very least, when we ride in to check what’s going on, I don’t think you should be there,” Niet insisted, leveling Will with a steely glower. “You’ll be a liability while we are trying to understand the layout of the castle. They know what you look like-”
“They know what Rowan and Colin look like!”
“And,” continued Niet, raising his voice over Will’s protest. “They are looking for you in particular.”
Will crossed his arms over his chest, biting back the urge to sneer. “Right, let’s just think of some plans, shall we? Perhaps we should see what all supplies we have in case that helps us think of anything?”
They did so, emptying their bags onto Colin’s damp cloak. Will was grudgingly impressed with the supplies that Niet had brought. He’d brought the same essentials as they had as well as a rope that was at least four times longer than the one that he’d stashed in his bag, a bow, two replacement strings, two dozen arrows, several cloaks of varying colors, several different flasks and bottles, of what Will had no idea, more dried foods, several strips of bandage, and an assortment of odds and ends including needles and thread.
“Overachiever,” Rowan huffed when they had sorted through it.
“What are these?” Colin asked curiously, picking up one of the small vials and holding it to the sun.
“Careful with those,” Niet
warned, holding out his hand for one of the bottles. “It’s not a pleasant thing to get on your skin. The dark bottles there are Sadalius–it’s used in Kelkor for pain and to ward off infection, but it will sting your skin. The green bottles are Meldona, a draft for sea sickness and upset stomachs.”
“And that one?” Colin asked, placing the last pale bottle into Niet’s palm.
A wicked smile curled the older squire’s lips. “Inanimus. It’s used to help those dying fall asleep, to rest easily, or used on the living to calm them.”
Will found himself gazing at the small bottle, a sick feeling in his chest at the thought of Visra and the Ranger. “We know that one.”
Niet’s jaw tightened. “I know you do.” Picking up the bottle, Niet dropped it into Will’s hand. “That’s enough for us to coat our blades. Unless we deal a killing strike, I don’t think it’ll be fatal. It’ll just give us an upper hand.”
Will turned the bottle in his hand, resisting the instinct screaming in his ears, begging him to throw it as far as he could. After a moment he reached over, handing it back to Niet. “I don’t want to use it.”
All three of the others turned to Will: Niet seemed annoyed, Rowan’s mouth hung open in shock, and Colin frowned, his green eyes unreadable.
“What?” Rowan demanded. “Will, you saw how much power it has! The Ranger and Visra both, plus it knocked us out from inhaling it last year!”
“Yeah, and it feels like we’re sinking to their level,” Will said firmly. “I don’t want to do that.”
“I don’t like it either, Will, but the truth of the matter is that we are outnumbered,” Niet growled, shaking his head and scowling. “And, if we can get close enough to kill Marl, one strike with this and he’d be down. Think about it–we could use it to help us.”
Will shook his head again. “You go ahead and use it, but I don’t want anything to do with it.”
“Me either,” Colin said, turning his gaze from Will and nodding decisively. “He’s right. It is sinking to their level.”
Niet snorted, stowing the bottle back in his bag. “How about you two decide after we see how many guards are there? That’ll change your mind on wanting an upper hand. Anyway–Marl would deserve a death by Inanimus.”
“It kills?” Rowan asked, frowning. “Hang on, I thought it just makes people fall off into a really bad lala land of sleep.”
“If you use enough it slows the heart rate, causes hallucinations, and death,” Niet explained, rocking back to sit on his heels. He gave a wolfish grin. “If Marl got enough of it in his blood, he’d die. Even if the blow from a sword didn’t kill the snake–a large dose of Inanimus would. It takes longer, much longer, days even–and I’ve heard it’s supposed to be terrible.” The grin slipped, and pain flitted through his dark gaze. “But he’d deserve just that.”
An awkward silence fell, and Will found himself glowering at the bag. Now he really wished he had smashed that vial.
“It’ll be handy for us if we need captives to get out,” Colin said at last, breaking through Will’s thoughts and turning his attention to his friend. Colin was glowering at Niet, as if daring him to argue. “I’m not dosing a blade in it, but Marl used a rag with that stuff last year to catch us. If we carry rags, we can knock people out.”
“Fair enough.” Niet nodded. “We’ll do that.”
“I like that better anyway,” Rowan agreed, relaxing. “I mean, it’d be more entertaining to take down a kingdom with a washrag than a poisoned blade. Makes for a better story.”
“Just don’t go licking the washrag,” Niet said, and Will was relieved to see the broad grin that he threw toward Rowan lacked the iciness of moments before. “Otherwise, we’ll be carrying your moronic arse out of the castle.”
Rowan waved a dismissive hand. “Tempting as that stuff sounds to eat, I already have plans for my rag. Over Tollien’s mouth it goes, then we can carry him out and be safe and sound to get to Alamore. He’d be a human shield!”
“You really think that we are going to somehow not only get the Ranger but get the King of Thornten out of there?” Will asked, snorting derisively.
Rowan raised his brows. “Don’t go crushing my dreams just because you woke up grumpy from your nap.”
“Knock it off, the both of you,” Colin interjected. “We still need a plan and we’re losing light fast. I don’t think we have far yet to go until we’re in sight of the castle. It’s a straight shot east and should have been a single day of riding but we walked a fair chunk of it last night in the tunnels.”
They all agreed and, after clearing all signs of their camp, were back in their saddles again. Will wondered if he would ever feel entirely dry ever again as they moved through darkening woods. It wasn’t until they caught the first glimpses of distant lights flickering through the thinning trees that they decided to halt for the night and he and Rowan opted to take the first shift of watching.
All through the night he perched on a fallen tree, staring down the hillside at the distant shadowed form of the city and, rising above it, a shadow that blotted the stars, the towers and turrets of a castle. Thornten.
The place that he was so tied to by blood. Seeing it now, for the first time, Will felt a strange twisting in his chest. He had known for almost a year now that he was a royal but knowing and actually seeing the walls that his family controlled were two different matters.
The castle was as large as Alamore, though with more towers, sharper angles of walls jutting into the sky. But the walls seemed colder, and Will wondered if it was the design of the castle or the truth that he knew. Even though it was where his blood tied him, all he felt was a cold hatred. It lacked the warmth of Alamore, the feeling of home.
He sat in silence pondering long after the breathing of his companions drifted into gentle snores, even Rowan’s head bobbing to rest on his chest.
Only when the first golden rays of the sun started to rise did he rouse Colin and Niet to take their shift, curling on his cloak and falling asleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Midmorning sun found the four squires staring from the forest edge down toward the city. Will couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting past Thorwal, resting again on the looming castle beyond it. In the light of day it was somehow even more intimidating, the shadow of the castle falling over the majority of the winding streets.
“Right,” Niet said at last, breaking the glum silence and turning to the others. “Our best chance is to gather as much information as we can about this castle and this city before we are in there trying to get the Ranger out.”
“Agreed.” Will nodded. “We could go in groups of two so we can see more but be keeping an eye on…” His voice drifted as he noticed his friends exchange tense looks. “What?”
“Will,” Colin said, running a hand over the back of his neck and grimacing. “I don’t think you should go, not on this one.”
“What?” Will stared between them, fighting the annoyance building in his chest. He’d hoped they’d forgotten their concerns of the night before, that they’d come to see sense, but instead Rowan and Colin were exchanging tense looks. Will gritted his teeth, understanding. They had discussed this, all three of them, probably yesterday when he slept and again today as he gathered wood to dry out for their fire.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Will demanded. “I should be there!”
“I mean, you should be there when we are rescuing, but for now, for scouting,” Rowan hurried to say, speaking faster as Will’s face became stony. “You should stay here because they’ll be looking for you more than any of us. You can start coming up with plans and such.”
“Plans? We don’t even know what the Thornten we are facing over there!” Will snarled, stabbing a finger in the direction of the distant castle. “How am I supposed to do anything helpful by being stuck here?”
“You’re being helpful by not getting us noticed,” Niet cut across him before either of his friends could, fixing Will with the steely gaze he
normally reserved for Eldin when she argued. “If you are seen with us, we’re more likely to get killed or caught. If we go without you, then we can see more of what’s happening without having to watch you.”
Will looked desperately between them, heart sinking as Rowan refused to meet his eyes. Finally, he threw his hands in the air with an annoyed snarl. “Fine! I’ll stay here while you get information but, I swear to Alamore, first sign of anything going wrong and I’m coming, you got that?”
“Agreed,” Colin said, grinning. “If we aren’t back by sunset you can come looking but only so long as you’re wearing your hood. I wouldn’t put it past Marl to have every soldier in the city searching for you.”
Will turned away, disgusted with all of them, and stalked to Admere’s side. He pretended to be focused on untangling the horse’s mane as he listened to his friends prepare to walk the distance to the city, changing into different outfits without the Alamore crest.
“We’ll leave the soldier’s swords and such here,” Niet called, making Will turn away from Admere at last. “It’ll attract too much attention if we’re all obviously armed. Plus, if something happens here, you’ll be armed.”
“Fine,” Will said coolly. A savage part of him was glad to see that Colin and Rowan were both refusing to meet his gaze, staring guiltily at their boots instead.
“And,” Niet continued, alone ignoring Will’s attitude. “We’ll leave our horses as well. We won’t blend in on war animals.”
“Great.” Will forced a smile. “I’ll take care of them till you’re all back then, shall I?”
“Oh, get over yourself,” Rowan said at last, rolling his eyes. “Look, none of us want your father to be a murdering git but he is and that’s that. You can’t keep copping a bad attitude with us for keeping you alive. Makes you seem a real prat when you do that. We’re out here risking our lives too, you know. So don’t be such an ungrateful carrot of a human.”
The Cutthroat Prince (William of Alamore Series Book 2) Page 36