The Royals

Chapter 29

Apparently he hadn't believed the stories about Henry' previous form, not that she could blame him. The rumors were variably extreme in some cases and utterly accurate in others.

'I could show you things you've only dreamt of.' He tried to smile fetchingly, but it only showed off his fleshy jowls. 'Such as rotting in a dungeon?'

"There is that,' he admitted. But other . . . things as well. I've lived in this city all my life and have uncovered provocative secrets."

'Indeed.' She turned her back to him. The only pro voking I'd engage in may not work to your advantage.'

He came around to face her, his expression nasty as he let her see a glimpse of the other man who lurked just beneath the mask. 'I can be very persuasive.'

'I'm sure.' Kate's voice held its own steel.

"There is the matter of your traveling companion."

'Yes, there is,' Kate said, hoping her concern for Maarcus didn't show.

'Lyam, there's been a change of plans. Give the princess 'Phelia's room." The man's eyebrows went up but he said nothing.

'I'll look forward to our next meeting.' Hadrian walked her to the door.

Kate dipped her head, not trusting herself to speak. Lyam moved down the hall and she followed him, clear in her understanding she was still a prisoner - not ill-treated at present, but a prisoner nonetheless.

Prince Henry rode his horse with visible discomfort. He could not walk, plain and simple. However unwelcome it was to be a commander ill-at-ease sitting a horse, it was far worse to be a leader lost among the infantry before the battle was joined.

There'd been precious little time for lessons - or any sort of preparations. The trolls approached relentlessly. Reports of the random havoc left in their wake had reached every corner of The Cliffs. Panic was rising. He had to confront the trolls now if he expected to have an army willing to fight.

Two weeks ago, he'd hoped to defeat the elfwitch's army. Now he merely strove to slow them down enough that the refugees might flee elsewhere before the trolls ransacked the capital.

Henry kept to the outside of the troop, lest he accidently jostle the men. 'Dress up that line,' he called uselessly. Someone had found a wine cellar last night and they'd toasted each other's courage far too many times before the prince discovered it. A good percentage of the men were hung over and not a few were still drunk.

We're doomed, he thought. I've come into power simply to watch men die. He wished he'd been able to convince Wanton Tom to serve as his second. There was hardly one among this r****e who knew which way to thrust his sword.

He took up position at the front of his troops. Prudence might dictate a safer position, but wariness would not get this army past the outside wall of The Cliffs. He raised his arm, sword in hand. Beside him, a man blew a horn and another tapped a drumhead. In slow and jolting pace, they proceeded down through the town and out into the blowing snow.

After a while, Henry grew used to the clashing of arms and shouts of dismay. So long as no one was killed, there was no point in checking the squabbling until they reached the battlefield.

It was an odd undertaking, going into Alvaria's territory. Though sworn to do the elves' bidding, Lyda nonetheless felt ill at ease. Exhausted, she bowed her head and put her shoulders to it as if she were walking into a strong wind, though the gusts had dropped away to nothing much to speak of.

Willam and Ceeley followed behind, one bone-weary and the other bouncing as if she'd been introduced to a new game. The girl dodged and parried, or swatted at things that Lyda couldn't be sure were altogether fanciful. She preferred to believe they were part of the child's imagination, but doubted any whimsy existed in this barren land. The few bushes seemed twisted, stunted, and strange in color.

The river seemed to appear from nowhere. It was a welcome relief at first, a more tangible reminder of life. Yet it was odd. What river was this? It should have been Tomar's River, but she knew that it wasn't. Could it be the Elven River? Had they travelled so far? The three instinctively separated and took to exploring the bank.

'Mama-Lyda,' Ceeley called out.

Lyda paused with a cupped hand of water raised to her mouth. 'Yes?'

'Mama-Lyda, what's that floating in the river?'

Lyda thought better of drinking untested water. She let it run through her fingers and splash to the ground. 'I don't know, child. Let me see.' She sidled down to where Celia stood on a low cliff. 'If you fall in from here, you'll be knee-deep in the river.'

'But I won't fall,' the girl answered sensibly. 'I'll stay right here. And the thing is right there,' she added. 'In case you forgot, Mama-Lyda.' She lowered her voice and spoke in a polite whisper. Grown-ups sometimes get distracted.'

Lyda followed the line of Ceeley's finger. She squinted to focus on the spot Ceeley pointed out and found nothing unusual. The object was as veiled to Lyda as the creatures the girl had played with for the past hour or two. Hoping to discover whatever Ceeley saw, she shaded her eyes and continued peering out into the current and over to the opposite bank.

You can't see it, can you?" the child asked in a quiet voice.

'No, I'm afraid not.'

'Do you think I've lost a few pegs? That's what my da used to say about some addle-brained folks. "Lost their pegs!""

She put an arm around the child. Absolutely not. I'd say you have more than your share of pegs. I've seen a few who don't, remember.'

Celia relaxed against her. 'Yes, I guess you have. I wouldn't want to be like that.'

She squeezed the girl closer. 'Don't you worry.'

'We're in for a marvelous sunset,' Willam called from above them. 'Come on up!'

Lyda stood and offered her hand to Ceeley.

'What are you two whispering about?' Willam teased.

'Oh, you know, girl things,' Lyda said, as they ascended.

Willam blushed a pale pink. 'Oh, I'm sorry."