Will scrambled away, his hands slipping over the floor, not daring to take his eyes off Marl. “I’d sooner die than swear loyalty to you.”
“That could be arranged,” Tollien said smoothly, coming to stand next to Marl. His dark eyes roved over Will’s face, his eyes, and the frown deepened. He turned to his son, raising one brow. “Am I to understand that you lost the Ranger?”
“What does it matter?” Marl snapped before Tabius could answer, his eyes still narrowed at Will. “We’ve got the boy, haven’t we?”
Tollien’s lip curled in a snarl. “You might be a King, brother, but this is my Kingdom, and you will not question my concerns or leadership. If he’s here and managed to help the Ranger escape into the castle it means others are here too.”
That broke Marl’s attention from Will and he turned to Tollien, the smile turning into a twisted expression. “Then send guards to find them. Kill them. I don’t care.”
“Most of my guards are in the courtyard,” Tollien snarled. His eyes shifted to Will and the frown lessened. “I don’t see them leaving the boy here. But, to be sure, perhaps he can give us names. So, boy, who all came with you? How many of your King’s knights are in my castle?”
Will shrugged. “Anywhere between none and a thousand, I’d say.”
He didn’t get to enjoy Tollien’s reaction as Marl struck. The back of his hand collided with the side of Will’s face, knocking him nearly flat to the floor again. Catching himself on one elbow, Will spat a pink string of bloody saliva, his face and lip throbbing and something hot and sticky running down his chin. Beside him, he sensed rather than saw Marl stoop, crouching at his side. Lifting his gaze, Will looked up into the smirking face, the bottomless cruel eyes, and hatred and rage flooded through his bones. He wanted to strike back, to fight, even if it meant getting killed.
“You’ll learn quickly that I won’t stand for your impertinence, William. If you’re to live long, if you’re to be my successor, you’ll have to start listening to me. Is that understood?”
Will said nothing, blinking against the sting in his right eye. He wouldn’t show weakness. He refused to.
“If you tell us who is in the castle, Will, it’s the first step to earning your freedoms here.” Tollien spoke, coming to stand behind Marl, surveying Will with cool curiosity. “You’ll stand a better chance of surviving. Work with us, boy, and one day you might be like Tabius here–a Prince.”
“I’m not telling you a thing,” Will hissed between gritted teeth.
Tollien’s face darkened and he gave a curt nod, turning from Will to Draccart. “Find the guards. Search the entire castle and tell them to seal off the gates.”
Will’s stomach clenched. There was no way the others had gotten away yet and, knowing Ross, he would still be trying to get Will out of here. If Rowan and Colin knew he’d been caught, they’d be trying to help.
“As for the boy.” Tollien turned to Marl, raising one eyebrow. “You might want to teach him some manners if he’s your last option for an heir of Kelkor.”
“Understood,” Marl said, dark eyes narrowing to slits. Reaching into his belt, Marl drew a dagger. Will half expected it to be the diving falcon that he’d thrown at Draccart, but this blade was different. The metal shone strangely in the light of the torches, as if wet. Will’s muscles tightened, his heart plummeting with understanding.
Marl’s teeth shone white in his snarling smile. “Let’s see how much better you handle poisons than the Ranger does, shall we?”
Will brought his knees into his chest and struck out, nearly managing to kick Marl. He sprang back with a string of oaths, Tabius and Tollien both taking steps back in surprise. Bracing himself to strike again, Will waited, eyes fixed on Marl’s glower. If they thought that he was going to give up that easily, they were wrong. He would go down fighting.
A sound behind Marl made Will start, glancing back and he saw Tollien and Tabius wheel round, the King of Thornten reaching for his sword.
Marl turned his head, his murderous expression twisting into a look of purest loathing at the sight of the man stepping through a door and into the corridor behind them.
Lip curled in his sneer, sword lifted in challenge, Laster snorted derisively. “If you’re enjoying being alive and King of Kelkor, then I don’t recommend taking another step toward the boy. Otherwise, yours will be the shortest reign any kingdom has ever seen.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Marl tossed his dagger to his left hand, his right reaching for the sword on his side. It was clear in his blazing eyes that he no longer cared about Will. The furious snarl was fixed on Laster and he was stepping forwards, his blade lifted to strike.
Before he could move more than a stride, Tollien stepped forward, blocking his way, and throwing Marl a threatening look. “Your concern is the boy,” he snapped, then turned to Laster, raising his voice. “Foolish of you to return here, Laster. You should have realized that escaping from here once was luck and twice impossible.”
Marl moved toward Will again, lowering his sword point so it rested at Will’s throat. “Any closer and his blood is on your hands, Laster.”
“Let him go and I might let you live, how about that instead?” Laster offered disparagingly.
“You might let me live?” asked Marl, laughing. His hand was shaking with fury and Will scooted slightly to the side, eyes trained on the now quivering sword point. If he could reach the closet rod and help Laster, maybe they could get out of this.
“Your guards aren’t coming, Tollien.” Laster took a half step forward, amber eyes blazing. Will inched to the side, aware that all eyes were on Laster now. “You should train your squires to be a bit more alert of their surroundings or they might run right in front of a door as it’s being thrown open.” The sneer twitched into the shadow of a smirk. “He’ll be fine in a few hours I expect.”
“By which time you’ll be a corpse,” snarled Marl.
“How about you quit talking and show if you’re even a decent swordsman anymore instead?” Laster asked. “I imagine that crown you stole made you worse, if that was possible.”
Will rolled as Marl’s sword jerked, feeling the edge of the blade just catch his shoulder. Marl was rising to his full height, seeming to have forgotten about Will, stalking toward Laster.
“Marl, the boy!” Tollien’s shout was drown in the clash of steel on steel as Laster brought his sword up with deft speed to parry Marl’s strike.
But Tabius had heard his father. Will saw him whip round and swore, scrambling to his feet and diving for the wooden rod. Tabius was bounding toward him, sword raised. Will’s fingers closed on the wooden rod. He spun, bringing it up at the same moment that Tabius struck. Wood shattered in Will’s hand, showering him with splintered fragments.
But the blow had been knocked aside, giving Will a moment to step back, still clutching the short remainder of his makeshift staff. Another rapid clash of blades made Will glance toward Laster. Tollien had joined the fight. His heart slammed in his ears. Laster couldn’t hold them both off, not for long.
The momentary distraction was all that Tabius had needed. Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw the Prince move and spun round, bringing the rod upwards to block but he was too slow. The edge of Tabius’s sword sliced along his shoulder, tearing through tunic and flesh. Will felt hot blood running down his arm, dripping over his fingers, but didn’t dare to take his eyes of Tabius again. He took a step back. The Prince followed, hungry eyes gleaming.
“You have the chance at everything, Will. You have the chance to be what you should have been, a Prince,” Tabius rasped. “You can be like me; you can have power and-”
“I don’t want any of that,” Will snapped. “I don’t want your throne or your power.”
He could feel a dull ache creeping into his arm and blinked hard against it. He had to focus. The cut wasn’t that deep, not enough to kill him. If this was his body reacting to the pain, he had to ignore it, to focus. He took another s
tep backwards, his toes sliding on the floor. His body was starting to weigh too much.
“How can you not want this power? You should want all of this; you should always have wanted to be what I am!” Tabius’s words were distant, echoing in his ears and around his skull but not stringing together enough to make sense.
Will made to strike but something strange was happening. His body was moving slowly, too slowly. The attack seemed pathetic, the staff descending toward Tabius as if through water. With a bark of laughter, Tabius batted the staff away as easily as if it were a fly. “Father hasn’t cared as much as Marl. He sees you as what you are–a threat to my crown. And now that I know what you are like, what you are, I think he’s right.”
Will’s body wasn’t listening. The sword was lunging forward, and he could only stare stupidly at the blade lunging toward his chest.
“ALAMORE!”
Something barreled into Tabius, knocking him nearly to the ground. In a flash of golden hair, a second figure joined the first and Tabius crashed to the floor, sword slithering over the ground.
Will blinked, shadows filling the edges of his visions, and tried to make sense of what had happened. He shook his head, trying to clear it and saw the two people fighting Tabius.
Rowan was straightening, grabbing up the sword and stepping out of Tabius’s reach while Tabius himself wrestled to free himself from Colin, who had pinned one arm up and behind his back. Then Colin twisted and Will saw the flicker of silver and tried to shout a warning, but it was Colin’s dagger. Colin pressed the blade to Tabius’s neck.
“HEY! BONEHEAD! We’ve got your Prince!” Rowan shouted, his voice loud enough to break over the scream of swords and the spinning in Will’s own head. Laster and Marl took no notice, but Will saw Tollien spin.
At the sight of Tabius, half kneeling on the floor, Colin’s dagger at his neck, Tollien’s face became a mask of fury. He made to move forward, and Colin shook his head, pressing the dagger tighter.
“Call off Marl,” Colin ordered. “And stay back, or you’ll be having to hunt down an heir for yourself as well.”
“MARL!” Tollien shouted, blazing eyes never leaving Colin’s face. Marl faltered, turning, and Will saw Laster take a step back. Will frowned, bewildered. Why hadn’t he struck? Marl’s back was turned. He could have struck and killed Marl. Marl’s eyes flitted from Colin to Tollien to Tabius.
“Drop the sword, Marl,” Tollien snarled.
“But Tollien,” Marl protested.
“I said drop your weapon!” Tollien’s voice boomed through the corridor, commanding and crackling with rage.
Marl’s sword fell from his fingers, ringing off the floor as his dark eyes rested on where Will stood, swaying. “This isn’t the end.”
“For now it is,” Laster snapped, sheathing his sword. “Arms behind you, now.”
Will stepped sideways, leaning against the stone wall for support and watched as Laster forced Marl’s arms behind his back and tied them with a length of rope. Next he did the same with Tollien. “Rowan, gather their swords,” Laster ordered. “Throw that one you’re holding out the window.”
“Why?” Rowan demanded obstinately. “I like this one.”
“Look at Will. It’s covered in that Kelkorian poison,” Laster snapped, jerking his head toward Will. “I’ve seen you in practice. You’ll end up poisoning yourself and being useless to me and I need you and Colin to help with Will.”
“Git,” Rowan grumbled but did as he was told, scooping up Marl’s and Tollien’s swords as the Alamore knight pushed the two Kings to the ground against one wall. Will watched through his fading eyes as Rowan darted into the other room, returning in moments without the poisoned blade.
“Let go of my son,” Tollien hissed, eyes still fixated on Colin.
“You’ll get him back when we’re safely at Alamore.” Laster sneered. “I don’t trust you half as far as I could throw you. Here, Colin, let me deal with that one. You and Rowan get Will upright. We don’t have long until guards get here.”
“But I thought you knocked that squire out,” Rowan said, looking annoyed.
Laster rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Did you not hear the swords echoing or are you truly as stupid as you look? Someone will have heard it and have the brain to piece together what’s happening. We have to catch up with the others. Come on.”
Will squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the spinning in his head. He wanted to be sick. A moment later he felt a hand gently grab his arm and lift it over solid shoulders. “Lean on me, Will. I’ve got you.” Colin’s voice was low, soothing.
Opening his eyes, Will saw that now Laster had bound and gagged the Prince of Thornten and was lifting him over one shoulder. Rowan moved to Will’s other side, still gripping one sword. Colin held the other.
“Scream for help before we’re out of sight and I’ll kill the Prince just to spite you,” Laster commented to Tollien, smirking. “But go ahead and plea for your soldiers to find him when I’m gone. I only wish I could see it.”
“You’ll die for this, knight,” hissed Tollien.
Laster rolled his eyes again. “You haven’t managed to kill me yet, so your threats are starting to lose their bite. You three, let’s get out of here.”
Will leaned against Colin and Rowan, staggering down the corridor. Like his way up the tower with Ross, it was impossible to keep track of their route. His feet dragged down steep steps, his head spun, and it took all of his strength not to get sick on his friends. Each window they passed brought with it a relief of fresh air to his choking throat but the darkness between them grew blacker. Once in a while he felt Rowan or Colin elbow him gently, trying to get him to stay awake.
“Bit further, just a bit.”
Somewhere in the castle, Will heard the shouts of voices, the din of feet running. Laster swore under his breath. “Either they have found our darling Kings, or they met Ross.”
“I don’t think Ross was in a mood to keep them alive,” Colin commented wryly. “So, I’m guessing the former.”
“Probably.” Laster smirked.
“How did you know where I was?” Will asked, trying to keep his mind from the tantalizing dark that welcomed it.
“Ross,” Rowan answered simply. He looked unusually grim. “When they got the Ranger, he must have realized something was wrong. He started a fire on the tower and Laster drug us this way.”
“It was our signal for something went wrong,” Laster said coolly, leading through yet another door.
“Why didn’t you tell us the signal?” Rowan asked, affronted.
“Because telling you all that we expected something to fail wasn’t really helping the confidence level of the group,” Laster snapped. “Now shut up and pick up the pace.”
Will could tell his weight was leaning more on his two friends and he tried to place his feet under himself, lift his weight. They were on another narrow set of stairs, steps that seemed long forgotten. Thick dust clung to the banister and floated in the slanting shafts of light that streamed through windows. They had nearly reached the bottom step when the door below was yanked open and blinding sunlight streamed through it. Will tensed, expecting the cry of soldiers or Marl’s furious howl.
“Storms of the sea, I thought you all would be dead by now.”
“Nice to see you too, Niet,” Rowan grumbled.
Niet stepped into the tower, reaching hand forward to grab Will as they reached the bottom step. “Will? You alright?”
“Does he look alright?” Rowan demanded.
Niet ignored Rowan, turning to Laster. “Ross and the Ranger are out but we have to hurry. They’re trying to clear the gateways and get them closed. Only thing that’s stopping them a group of civilians and I’m not sure why.”
“Supporters of Alamore and the Ranger,” Laster said stiffly. “They will pay for what they’re doing, and they can’t hold long. Niet, take Will. You two, get on the horses and go. We’ll follow. Once in the city, scatter. They will be
hunting me and the Prince, I’ll try to keep them off of your trail as long as I can.”
“We want to go with Will!” Colin said, pulling closer to Will’s side.
“Either you scatter and separate from him or die next to him, your choice, but I’m not bringing flowers to your grave if you die for being a moron,” Laster barked. “I said go!”
Niet grabbed Will and stepped aside, allowing for Rowan and Colin to barrel past, out the door and into the courtyard. Will could hear it now. The hubbub of voices, screaming, hooves and the chaos.
“What happened to him, Laster?”
“Inamimus. This darling Princeling got him with a blade coated in it.”
Niet swore and Will felt himself lifted up. Embarrassed and annoyed by his own weakness, he tried to pull himself upright, to move, but Niet didn’t seem to notice.
Something was draped over him, covering his sight and Will squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the older squire break into a run. He wanted to vomit. The noise of people grew louder, echoing around him. Someone screamed, Laster yelled a string of orders that he couldn’t make out, hands lifting him upwards. Then the jerk of movement, familiar movement. He was in the saddle, or rather thrown over the front like a ragdoll.
“Hold on, Will,” Niet yelled then another twisting and they were launching forward. Will grappled to grab onto the saddle as the cloak covering him flapped away in the wind. Beneath them, the golden horse surged forward, scattering people who got in their way.
He saw a man in rich robes scream and leap into a horse tank to avoid being run over, a guard bellowed something and tried to grab at them but recoiled as an arrow struck his arm. Will turned his head, fighting to keep conscious, and saw Laster’s horse surging next to him, the Prince of Thornten slung like he was.
They broke through the gates, onto the stone bridge, the horses never hesitating a moment. Will was glad he couldn’t see the drop. He didn’t want to imagine it right now. All he wanted was for the throbbing starting in his arm to lessen, the spinning to stop. Niet was holding him in the saddle with one arm, and they were turning into the city. They scattered chickens and children as they burst into a side street. Behind them, some ways off, Will could hear more horses. The chase had started.
The Cutthroat Prince (William of Alamore Series Book 2) Page 41