The Cutthroat Prince (William of Alamore Series Book 2)

by C. J. R. Isely

  Will blinked again at the face swimming in front of him. There was a sadness in the eyes that made his resemblance to Tollien lessen and their reality crushed down on Will without turning to see the body he was sprawled over.

  “It’s my fault,” Will rasped. “My fault.”

  “It’s not your fault.” The Ranger sighed and grabbed Will tighter, pulling him away from Niet. He grunted with pain, lifting Will onto his feet but his knees buckled, and the Ranger grunted, catching his weight. “Try to stand, Will, you have to try to walk.”

  Will nodded and tried to force his legs beneath him, trying to stand. He swayed, his muscles giving way again. His bones had turned to stone. Between the emotions rising again in his chest and the poison, he could feel his muscles spasming, twitching and weak.

  Someone crashed through the undergrowth near them, and Will heard Ross’s voice break. “Is he...?”

  “He’s alive. Ross, we have to get Will out of here. I can’t carry him…my leg.” The Ranger’s arms were shaking, and the world was starting to tilt.

  Arms embraced Will and he felt himself lifted more securely. He barely noticed the light filtering between tree branches as Ross carried him out of the clearing, toward the path.

  “Are you hurt, Will?” Ross asked, his growl soft. Will wondered if the man might cry then wondered if it mattered. His own eyes seemed heavy, his face swollen with the tears he had sobbed, and nothing had happened. They hadn’t brought Niet back. Nothing could bring back the dead. “Will?”

  “No,” his voice rasped again, still unfamiliar, a stranger speaking through his mouth.

  “Ross! Ross!” Haru’s voice, panicked, desperate, rushing toward them.

  “He’s alive,” Ross growled. “Haru, get the horses. You’ll have to bring Will back to the castle. The Ranger and I…we will get Niet.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s in the clearing, down the ravine behind us. The horse must have fallen, and someone caught them.” Ross’s voice tightened.

  Haru didn’t ask and Will wondered if he already knew. Did news of death travel in silence? In the look on Ross’s face above him? In the blood that stained his tunic?

  “Will, can you stand?” Ross asked huskily.

  He nodded, pain rushing to his head with the small movement. “I can try,” he whispered.

  Ross lowered him, seeming reluctant, but Will’s knees still weren’t working right. They shook, his body threatening to rush to the ground. Hands grabbed him by the unscathed shoulder, and he lifted his face to see Haru’s face, bloodless and tired, his red hair falling over his grey-green eyes. Ross, next to him, looked no better with dark shadows of exhaustion, several days of beard darkening his jaw.

  “Get him to Alamore, he needs a healer,” Ross growled then spun away, stomping back down the edge of the ravine, to the clearing below.

  “Come on, Will, lean on me,” Haru whispered, pulling Will’s arm over his broad shoulders. Trying to walk felt as unfamiliar as his own voice had sounded. This wasn’t his body. Everything was so wrong with it that it couldn’t be his body.

  “The horses are just up there,” Haru encouraged, and Will lifted his heavy head, staring up the path.

  A cluster of horses was tied along the path: Laster’s grey, Rockwood’s lanky chestnut, the Ranger’s slight black mare, and Haru’s broad roan, and a small red horse with a thick neck. Admere’s ears pricked forward, his eyes fastened on Will. The sight of the animal brought the grief rushing to his throat.

  When they had neared him, Will pulled away from Haru and wrapped his arms around the horse’s thick neck. He fought to swallow the knot that choked the air from his lungs, the tears but, try as he might, he couldn’t control the shaking. Admere stood, steadfast, his neck curved around Will. His hot breath warmed Will’s back and he managed a choked laugh.

  “It’s good to see you, old boy,” Will muttered, lifting his face. The brown eyes blinked back at him, and he thought he could see worry in their dark depths.

  “Can you ride?” Haru asked softly.

  Will nodded, not trusting his voice to speak again. He didn’t protest when Haru held the stirrup steady and braced a hand on Will’s back to help him into the saddle. Admere stood unnaturally still with none of his normal fidgeting. Will gathered the reins and saw the dark stains over his pale fingers. He tried not to think of whose blood it might be. His. The Ranger’s. Niet’s.

  “I’ll lead Admere, you just stay on,” ordered Haru. It sounded to Will like Haru expected him to argue but he didn’t. He was too tired to argue. Instead, he gripped the front of the saddle and stared firmly at the red ears of the small horse. He wouldn’t look down at his hands. He wouldn’t see the blood again.

  The ride didn’t take long enough. Will wanted to ride forever, through forest in silence. Haru’s only words were to his horse and there was a peace in not speaking. Too soon Alamore’s walls were visible, lit in the early hours of sunrise. His home, full of the people he loved and who cared about him. Rowan and Colin would be there demanding answers, wanting to find him.

  And those who loved Niet would be waiting for answers as well. Serena, Eldin, Kalia. They would be waiting too. Had Niet’s horse made it back to the castle when they’d fallen? Had they seen the blood and assumed? The idea of telling them that Niet was dead made him want Admere’s reins back so he could turn around and ride far away.

  “I’ll talk to people first,” Haru said, answering Will’s unasked fears.

  “Thank you,” Will whispered.

  “Will, what you did, you and the others, saving the Ranger…” Haru was struggling for words and Will noticed his eyes shone unnaturally bright. “I thought all of you were dead. When I found you were gone…but the King wouldn’t let me leave, wouldn’t let any of us leave…then when the others got back last night…” His voice broke and Will watched a tear roll down Haru’s cheek.

  “Haru, I’m fine,” Will choked on the lie. He knew he wasn’t convincing his knight.

  In the courtyard, Haru’s face kept the soldiers and stable hands at bay. None of them dared to look at Will under his knight’s protective glower. It was only when Will had patted Admere’s neck again in thanks that one of the braver stable hands collected enough courage to rush forward. He grabbed the reins to Admere and Haru’s roan and Will watched the red horse led away, head low, tail rippling with each step.

  “Healing chambers, now,” Haru grunted, grabbing Will’s arm again as he swayed.

  “Haru!”

  Haru swore under his breath and Will squeezed his eyes shut. Serena’s voice, demanding, full of broken emotion; anger, desperation.

  “Where is he, Haru?” Will opened his eyes again and looked up. She was stalking toward them from the black doors, her hair falling from its braid, framing her snarling face.

  Haru opened his mouth to answer, then closed it, struggling for any sound, any words. Her green eyes moved to Will’s and Will felt his throat close again. His face must have been answer enough because she staggered several steps back, shaking her head. “No.”

  “Ross,” Haru managed.

  She wheeled away, shaking her head. “Someone bring me a horse, now!”

  “Serena, they’re bringing him here,” Haru called after her. But it was useless. She was already storming into the barn.

  Will ducked his head quickly to wipe his tears on the sleeve of his tunic without Haru noticing. His knight let out a shaky breath and pulled gently for Will to follow. People cleared as they strode into the entry hall, past familiar doors, to the familiar stairs. Haru half carried him up the steps and into the healing chamber. As soon as they had entered, he drew the bolt across it and turned to the startled healer who was making one of the nearby beds. The bed Eldin had been in. Pain tightened over Will’s chest. Where were she and Kalia? When would they know the truth?

  “No one is to enter this chamber, got it?” Haru growled threateningly at the healer.

  The healer raised his eyebro
ws but didn’t protest, only waving to the bed he had just made. “Just cleaned this so might as well get him in this one. But only after he changes. Come along, squire. A clean tunic then bed, what do you say?” His voice was firm yet caring.

  Will saw the hesitation in Haru’s face when the healer pried the knight’s fingers from his sleeve. “If you want to see to it that no one enters, then stand guard outside. Standing guard inside doesn’t do us much good. People will pound upon that door, I know this boy’s friends, I’ve dealt with them. They’ll climb through windows to get in here if we aren’t diligent.”

  “Right. I guess they’d have help from some of our Kelkor residents on that too if there isn’t someone to stop them.” Haru smiled, the gesture not quite reaching his eyes.

  Will watched him leave then allowed the healer to herd him behind curtains where he changed into one of the sleeping tunics, discarding his stained clothing in a pile. He wished he could burn them, but the hearth was unlit, no torches nearby offered their flames. He had to content himself with washing his bloody hands in a basin of warm water and wiping his face with a cloth brought to him by a quiet woman with almond eyes and premature silver in her auburn hair.

  When he was clean enough that the healer allowed him into the bed, the round nosed man stood over him, hands on his hips, to ensure that Will drank the tea he was given–bitter herbs stinging his nose and throat even through the honey that someone had generously added. After he placed aside the cup, the healer busied himself cleaning the cut on Will’s shoulder and pressing a compress on one of the scratches across his forehead. He couldn’t remember the skin tearing. Had it been in the fall? Did it even matter? The pain of his wounds was somehow disconnected from his body, as if it were a memory.

  He drank more of the bitter herbs, listened to the sounds in the courtyard of returning horsemen. Everything was hazy and, eventually, unconsciousness caught up with him once again. This time it was not dark and hungry, however. This time, when he closed his eyes, it was warm, caring, and felt like sleep.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Rowan and Colin made exactly twenty-four attempts to sneak, slip, trick, and push, their way past Haru before the knight finally allowed them to enter. It was mid-afternoon of the same day and Will was propped on his pillows, wishing he could run his hand over his stitched forehead and shoulder. The healer had already yelled at him for it once then rambled on darkly about infection for a quarter of an hour while he reapplied a stinging salve to the injuries. He threw his hands in the air and cursed under his breath when Haru opened the door, letting Rowan and Colin in and entering himself.

  “I thought you said the boy needed peace!”

  “You tell that to them,” Haru snapped. “I’m too tired to keep fighting them.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be a knight! Fighting is your duty!” the healer retorted and rolled his eyes, stalking through the curtain at the back of the room and grumbling about squires.

  Will grinned at his two friends, glad to see both looked uninjured, apart from a few superficial scratches. He imagined they must have been from the twigs trying to grab at them while riding the day before.

  “You two making Haru crazy, then?”

  Haru growled behind them, flopping fully clothing onto the bed across the room.

  “Naturally,” Colin said, grinning and lowering himself into the chair beside Will’s bed. Rowan grabbed the chair from the bed next to Haru’s and carried it over, flopping onto it backwards and crossing his arms across the backrest.

  “What happened to you two when we got out?” Will asked. He was determined to keep the subject away from Niet and himself.

  “Well, Naja bolted, wasn’t going to slow down for anything when that stage just happened to catch fire. It turns out my horse is absolutely terrified of fire. Not that I mind, as we ended up running over one of the Cutthroats. He got up, so I guess we didn’t hurt him too bad, unfortunately.

  But we got loose of the courtyard and came back along the same trail as we did last year, I think, but hard to tell because the trees all look the same. I rode about an hour and a half then my path found Colin’s. We were the second group back, Ross and the Ranger had already got here and rounded up Rockwood and Haru to come back out on the search for the rest of us.” He hesitated, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Then Laster showed up with our guest.”

  “Guest?” Will asked, looking between them.

  “Oh, come on, you didn’t think we were going to give back our new darling friend did you?” Rowan asked, grinning. “Laster showed up, right? And he literally dropped him on the ground in the courtyard! Made my day! I think I like Laster now, because he had the nerve to drop a Prince like a sack of potatoes.”

  “He brought him all the way back here?” Will asked, astonished. “Seriously?”

  “That wasn’t part of your stupid plan all along?” Haru asked, sitting up in his bed across the room.

  “Shove off, we’re story telling over here,” Rowan snapped.

  Haru made a rude hand gesture and lowered himself back to the bed with a groan.

  “So,” Will said slowly, his brain sluggish and tired, “the Prince…he’s here?”

  “He’s in the finest dungeon that villainy can buy,” Rowan said proudly. “All thanks to Laster and Greyhead. Seriously, I don’t think I ever have been more impressed than with how you threatened the King of Thornten!” He gave Colin a playful punch in the arm. “You backtalked a King! You deserve a crown, you deserve a castle, you deserve-”

  “We get it!” Colin shoved Rowan, nearly toppling him from the chair. “All that matters is that it got us out of there!”

  “It did, and it was impressive at that!” Rowan agreed. “And don’t try to be modest, it makes you seem more pigheaded than you already are, you prat.”

  Will laughed, shaking his head. “And here I thought you’d be the first telling us not to do anything rash and that Laster would have advised against anything as moronic as kidnapping a Prince.”

  “The plan was to rescue the Ranger. We merely reevaluated the probability of that and revised the plan accordingly,” said Colin, smirking. Behind him, Rowan rolled his eyes and pretended to cuff him in the back of the head.

  “We got back here about midnight and the castle was all awake, since Ross and the Ranger were back and someone’s knight was in an uproar trying to leave,” Rowan continued, raising his eyebrows at Will. Across the room, Haru’s arm lifted, making the same gesture, this time at Will.

  Will’s face reddened. “We had to save the Ranger,” he muttered, somewhat apologetic.

  “Yeah, by doing something stupid,” Haru grumbled.

  “Well, it was good we did because it worked, didn’t it?” Rowan snapped. Turning back to Will, he continued. “Once Laster got back and we realized something was wrong, Haru and Ross took off without waiting on the others. Poor Laster had to switch horses and actually took off bareback to catch up. If you ever want to hear that man swear, hear him get on a horse bareback and fall off the other side. Any other time, I’d have made fun of the bugger. But then the Ranger was already getting his horse and taking off again. That wasn’t so funny.”

  “None of it was funny,” said Colin quietly. Will noticed he was staring at his hands again, face drawn, and Will knew he was thinking of how close they had all come to dying. They had all been so close to death…

  Niet’s face flashed before Will’s eyes and he had to bite back the urge to yell out in pain and grief. His teeth dug into the inside of his cheek and the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.

  “But we got the Ranger! And we got the Prince,” said Rowan in a forced cheerful voice. “We got him, and, with that, we can negotiate. They can take back their Cutthroat Prince, the heir to being a complete and utter prat.”

  “What are we going to negotiate for with the heir to Thornten?” Will asked, glad for the change in subject. He would think of Niet again, he knew, but he wasn’t ready for it yet. Not rig
ht now.

  “Maybe a year’s supply of fine wine and steaks?” said Rowan, eyes wistful.

  “Maybe a brain for that one,” Haru chimed in. from across the room.

  “This is squire time, go somewhere else to be dislikeable and judgmental, won’t you?” snapped Rowan.

  “I asked the King that when Sir Miller and I brought the Prince to the dungeon and Revlan met us there,” Colin muttered. He looked up, his face tired. “Revlan is going to tell them two years of peace–no Cutthroats, no raids, not even patrols within a mile of the border.”

  The idea of peace for two years after so much fighting made Will stare at the ceiling, sinking deeper into his pillows. “That sounds amazing.”

  “Tollien will never go for that, not that long, he’d break his word and attack,” said Rowan spitefully.

  “I doubt it,” said Colin seriously. “A treaty like that means he would have to tell each of the castles that follows him that there will be peace for two years and if he broke that, their alliances would be forfeit. They’d be free to refuse to send him horses, men, and food for an army. It’s how the laws and traditions of powers that support him work.”

  “You read too much, it’s making you pompous and smart and I don’t rightly like it,” Rowan grumbled.

  They talked a while longer and Will was relieved when neither asked how he was, what had happened. They didn’t mention the new King of Kelkor, that Will was next in line for the throne of a country he had never seen. They didn’t even discuss Thornten at all, instead recounting stupid tricks Rowan had played, what pranks he would teach Gabe and Jerram, and how much the two newest squires hated the ponies.

  When the healer returned it was to light the torches and heard Rowan and Colin away. He snapped at Haru for defiling the clean healing bed but Haru ignored him and refused to leave. Will was glad when the healer gave up and left. He didn’t think he could handle lying awake in the darkness alone again. The sound of Haru’s breathing, deepening to sleep, was a comfort. A reminder that someone else was alive in the world. Someone else who would stand guard over him no matter what his life twisted by his lineage would bring forward next.