The Royals

Chapter 53

blocking Henry's way. It makes things so much more efficient.' Only then did the Dragon Prince realize the other had drawn his sword while he moved to box him in. "Do you prefer I run you through or do you want to

defend yourself? Your highness. The honorific oozed

disdain.

Henry slowly pulled his own sword from the scabbard, eyeing his opponent. 'Have we met?" he asked cautiously, as he circled slowly around the other.

The man laughed. Unlikely. I haven't been welcome

here since you were a child.' Henry looked harder. The features might have been his own twisted by time and decay, or a different mother. 'If you've harmed my sister . . . Henry swung wildly.

Hadrian easily dodged. 'Pity, I was hoping for a better

challenge.'

Henry composed himself, concentrating on where he

could most wound the man without killing him.

'You know your sister is quite lovely,' Hadrian taunted. 'Clean her up and she would be well worth bedding. Given a little more time I could teach her to appreciate you almost as well as she does me.'

Henry saw white. Vision simply did not exist. His ears roared with the sound of the ocean. He smelled the stink of the other's sweat close up against him. He tasted the blade-tip against his lips.

Sight and sound returned as quickly as they had fled. His half-brother held a knife at his throat while he wrapped Henry's wrists in rope. Then he bent to hobble his captive's ankles.

All that time wasted on sword lessons, Henry thought wryly despite the grim situation. I'd've done better to spend my time with Abadan - and suddenly he knew it

was true. His future lay in learning about his mother's legacy, not his father's.

"This way,' Hadrian said with false politeness. 'I have my own special entrance.' He shoved Henry down the hall a few steps only to stop abruptly and make a sharp left. Hadrian pushed a brick and then another. The wall angled open to reveal a passage.

'I haven't been here since I was a child myself.'

He sounded almost wistful. Unless you count just this

morning. So this was how his betrayer escaped.

Hadrian peered inside. A little dark but you won't mind. You'll get used to the dark... Just as our sister did.'

Henry spat at the man he couldn't see in the pitch black. You leave my sister out of this."

'Ah, you've got as much venom as she did. That'll

make breaking you so much more fun.' In the next breath,

he added, "Don't ever do that again." Henry smiled at his back. I guess I got him, he thought.

They stumbled along in the dark. Hadrian halted occasionally, perhaps to get his bearings, catch his breath, or needle Henry with threats of, 'You'll see what it's like to live on the slop you've left to us. You'll know what it's like to live in obscurity.'

As if any of that mattered to Henry.

They finally came out inside a well-appointed house. A very well-appointed house.

Outside, the starving exiles still raged, looting what they could and smashing what they couldn't. This is Hadrian's home, Henry realized. Kate is here

somewhere.

'Lyam!' the man called. 'Lyam, upstairs now!'

No one came. 'Foul, no-good...

Hadrian muttered. He looked skeptically at Henry. "I know you're a better swordsman than you pretend. I've got reliable accounts.' The Dragon Prince said nothing as he surreptiously eyed his surroundings.

You wanted to see your sister. I'm happy to oblige.

Let's take a tour, shall we?' He paused. 'Ivan! Lyam!"

Still no answer.

Hadrian appeared unconcerned, but Henry knew bet ter. Something had gone wrong. He hope Kate and Maarcus had escaped first.

'I could show you the bedchamber your sist stayed in.' He stopped and considered. 'On second thought, I don't think you're ready for that just yet.' His words exuded confidence; but he was distracted as he spoke - as if he was becoming truly bothered by the whereabouts of his absent men.

Henry proved a co-operative prisoner as they descended the stairs to the dungeon beneath the house. Hadrian's yells of 'Lyam' and 'Ivan' echoed off the stone walls but never brought an answer. By the time they reached the prison, Hadrian had given up all pretense of nonchalance. 'I'll have their heads if those two are gone. I'll have-'

He didn't finish as Henry stepped past the c*****e to

give him a better view. 'I'd say someone's already got their heads, Henry joked.

Two misshapen heads on the floor. Arms, legs, and internal bits scattered everywhere. Hadrian didn't seem to notice when Henry stepped

away to examine the cells. Empty, all empty. The Dragon Prince let out a half-held breath. She was still alive at least.

Hadrian cried out. Henry couldn't help but look. The elfwitch stood at the foot of the stairs. She held up something b****y. Hadrian's hand?

'I'm sure you can rule your little seaside resort one

handed.' White-faced with shock and lips tightened into a line, the speechless Hadrian stared at the b****y stump of his

arm and fell to the stone floor. "I told you to bring them to me,' she said to his unconscious body.

The elfwitch faced Henry. Without a single move ment, his rope and shackles fell away. There.' She pointed toward a vacant cell and a tunnel entrance spread wide. She walked forward to grasp his arm harder than Hadrian ever could have and dragged him into the abyss.

Escape wasn't as easy as the early moments would've suggested. Ginni knew the Revered Mother would leave guards in unexpected places. She'd known about the obvious ones outside her own room and Wanton Tom's. It was the roaming women who served as Revered Mother's eyes and ears she had to fear. These were not wholly within their own control and therefore more difficult to predict... or disable. She rounded a corner and sprinted down the last stretch

to the outside door. She could feel Tom a few steps behind

her. Here they were most exposed. Anyone could come down the hallway and see them from a distance. Ginni leaned on the door, but it wouldn't budge. She motioned Tom closer. Anxiously they shoved together

until the door opened. Another body lay on the ground. This Revered Sister didn't seem to have fared as well as the others. Blood pooled underneath her head. But how?

They stepped out the door and Ginni bent down to examine the woman more closely. She found claw marks slashed across the victim's neck. 'Grosik? Has he been here all along?¹

'Don't see how he could've managed that without finding himself back in their net,' Tom whispered.

I haven't,' Grosik boomed. Just long enough." Ginni hugged the big beast's neck. 'How'd you know

tonight was the night?" 'Not me. Barik."

'Who?' Ginni asked.

'His mate,' Tom said. 'She

'Later,' Grosik interrupted. "It's quite a long t-' 'No!" Revered Mother shouted from behind them. The girl is mine!' 'Quickly,' Grosik roared. 'I've seen more of the Hag's

snares than I care to.'

Ginni and Tom needed no more urging to scramble upon the dragon's back. The three rose into the air. Only once Caronn's screams had faded behind them did Ginni relax enough to glance around her. The three dragons trailing Grosik startled her at first until she noticed he was humming like a mother cat.

'What have you been up to, you sly old grouch?' 'Later, Grosik whispered. 'Much later."

The grey morass spat Kate and Maarcus into the waiting arms of Alvaria's trolls. Shocked by the sudden return to the world they knew, the two didn't have a Sisters' prayer of escaping the ring of strong-armed creatures.

All across the camp, the princess saw the barren patches and burnt trees caused by the devastating battle months ago. No one had rebuilt or cleared away the refuse and now it served as a reminder of their single defeat.

A small hope caught in Kate's throat. She didn't welcome t*****e for Maarcus or herself, but they both knew the risks in confronting the elfwitch. Kate was stronger now than when she'd last battled with Alvaria She could steel herself against anything the witch might thrust at her.

Or so she thought.

They were taken to a tent set only paces from Alvaria's own and shackled to the center pole. If they pulled on the irons, the entire tent collapsed on top of them, trapping them underneath and alerting the camp in one move.

'Never let it be said she isn't clever,' Kate remarked. 'Like mother, like daughter,' Maarcus joked.

She glared at him. I suppose I should say you're feeling better, but I'm in a foul mood so I won't. What would you know of breeding? You of the line which has bred true unto at least seven generations. If I breed true I'm as likely to produce Alvaria or Hadrian as King Tomar.' I'm glad

'Or Zera.' His voice was full of longing and pain. Zera. Maarcus had known her better than Kate, who shared the blood tie. Has that gash on your back reopened?" she asked, trying to change the subject. 'I wish I had my pack.'

'No, it seems thoroughly healed.' He paused, then added, 'I was thinking of my father - the one who was Sir Maarcus the Seventh before me.'

It was Kate's turn to wince. 'I'm sorry. You said he'd been poisoned. It didn't seem dishonorable considering the short-lived survival of anyone living in the capital. 'Then why was I given his identical title?'

Kate flushed. 'I hadn't thought about it. I assumed that was the way the Shoremen do things or perhaps . . .'Her excuse sounded feeble even to her.

'You know that is not the way we do things,' he said. His voice dropped to a sad whisper. 'Nevertheless, it is sometimes the way things are done.'

The princess didn't improve her show of deportment by staring at him with her mouth agape. To think of Maarcus's family hiding dirty linens in their closet gave her cause to reconsider many of her assumptions about

the old physician. Imagine, he was capable of erasing his own son! To be as ruthless with one's own as with those one presumed to lead was a trait she had not thought he possessed. She could not help but wonder how it had shaped the man chained next to her.

What might he do if forced? She tried to sound under standing. 'Better to lance the boil than let it fester, I suppose.'

His face showed horrified disbelief. 'You think Grand

father would poison his own son!'

'I'm sorry,' she said softly. 'It seemed to be what you

were telling me. He was poisoned and you were endowed

with his name.'

'Oh, yes, I see.' The brows unknit slightly. 'I only meant my own father was not as concerned over the fate of the One Land as my grandfather was.' He paused, then added, 'Or as I seem to have turned out to be."

'How did your father die?' she asked gently.

'I've never told a soul. Better to let others assume he

fell to intrigue rather than ineptness and gluttony."

'I don't understand.'

'My mother poisoned him.'

'Was he so terrible as that?"

Maarcus smiled in spite of himself and their dire circumstances. 'No, it was an accident. She attempted to murder my grandfather because he had sent me away

or perhaps she meant to commit suicide over missing me so.

'The latter is hardly more comforting.'

Maarcus seemed to approve her sentiment. "Spoken like a true orphan,' he said, then went on to explain. "She poisoned the wine. By all accounts, my father refused to wait until a fresh bottle was opened but insisted on drinking that which had already been poured for my grandfather. It killed him in a matter of moments. Seeing what had happened, my mother swore once at my grandfather then finished the tainted wine.'