Hostage (11 page)

Astrin truly was frozen now, his eyes wide, and his heart hammering in his chest. Prince? Him? What was going on? Who were these people? What was he doing here? He felt as if somehow he’d slipped into another reality and nothing was quite real anymore—nothing except the burning desire to get away from them.

Quickly he weighed the chances of making it out of the door. They were slim at best. He’d have a much better chance when he was outside, especially if they thought he was still docile and obedient. Therefore he simply sat and waited, acknowledging no one and nothing while calculations clicked through his mind like beads on an abacus.

R
OWAN
WAS
extremely disturbed and had been throughout dinner. After waking from his nap, Astrin had been a different person. At dinner he’d sparkled, and Rowan knew that bothered Ragnor, especially when Astrin started asking questions, receiving the answers with a shrewd and calculating expression as if they told him far more than the mere words expressed.

And if Astrin bothered Ragnor, he bothered Rowan twice as much, although not for the same reason. Slowly, over the course of the day, he’d found himself starting to like Astrin. As his respect and liking for the soft-spoken but charming young man grew, his guilt for the way he’d treated him and what was being done to him grew too.

By the time Rowan rose to leave, he’d begun to wonder if what they were doing was the right thing at all. Would it be so bad to stop this right now? Was Astrin really so dangerous that such extreme measures had to be taken to subdue him? Surely if they just talked to him…? He met Melissa’s eyes over Astrin’s head, and she shook hers.

“Don’t even think about it, Rowan. You have no idea.”

“But why not? Surely if we talk to him….”

“Rowan—”

Before she had the chance to say another word, the door opened and Ragnor came back, his face like thunder.

“Rowan… please sit down.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

Ragnor looked uncertain. “I don’t know quite how to tell you this, and I’ve never been one for tact and diplomacy. I apologize for seeming cold, if that is how it comes across.”

Taking a deep breath, he continued. “There has been an attack on the Heart of the West. It is believed to have been carried out by members of House Michael, possibly aided by House Uriel, although there is no evidence at this time they were involved.”

“Uncle Charles,” Rowan exclaimed, knocking over the chair as he snapped to his feet.

“Sit down, Rowan,” Ragnor said quietly. After staring at him for a few moments, struggling with his internal emotions, Rowan sat down. “Thank you.”

Ragnor looked from Rowan, who was clearly angry and upset, to Melissa, who had her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes, to Astrin, who watched him dispassionately. He was shocked to see something flicker in those passive but very clear green eyes.
Ah, well… what does it matter now?

“The attack was centered on the royal palace. Sometime this afternoon members of the Royal Elite Force of House Michael entered the palace by force. They killed a number of the Royal Guard, as well as two housemen and some members of the household staff, who tried to fight them off, as they penetrated the private chamber where the peace talks were being conducted.

“After gaining entry to the chamber, they killed everyone who was there. Except”—he hurried on, seeing the horrified expressions—“your uncle and King Hersten, who were both taken by the attackers. There has been no trace of them since. No word has come from House Michael, and there does not seem to be any motive for the attack.”

Rowan snorted. “It’s easy to tell you’re not a politician. Motive? What better motive than to prevent peace and safeguard your own House? With peace between the West and North, we would both turn our attention to our other borders, where House Michael and, to a lesser extent, House Uriel have been encroaching for decades. It’s only the skill of our diplomats and the loyalty of our subjects in the borderlands that have prevented our borders from being seriously eroded, especially over the past ten years. The last thing either of the other two Houses wants is for there to be peace.

“And,” he continued bitterly, “what better way to ensure there is no peace than to remove the two men most likely to achieve it? With both together in the same place, it was the ideal time. Why was there not more security? Why were they not more vigilant?”

“They wouldn’t have hurt them, would they?” Melissa asked, her voice shaking.

“I doubt it,” Rowan said, his mind working furiously. “What benefit would they get from it? If matters do not proceed as they suspect, they still have them as bargaining tools.”

“And how, do you think, they suspect things will progress?” Ragnor asked.

“I’ve never hidden the feelings I had for House Raphael. It’s common knowledge I hate them for what happened to my parents, and I’ve spent most of my life hating Astrin too. With my uncle and his father out of the way, we both come to the crown early, and what happens next depends on us—sworn enemies, at least on my part. Considering Astrin has spent the last three months as our hostage, it would seem an absolute certainty that we would not continue the peace negotiations. They would expect the war, if anything, to intensify.”

“You say ‘had,’” Ragnor said.

“What?” Rowan snapped from his gloomy ponderings; then realizing what he’d said, and how he’d said it, he softened. “Sorry… what do you mean?”

“You said… the feelings you ‘had’ for House Raphael, not ‘have.’”

Rowan glanced from Ragnor to Astrin. “Yes, ‘had.’ I don’t know exactly when and how it happened, but…. My uncle was right. Somehow, over the last two days, talking to Astrin, getting to know him….” Rowan sighed. “I suppose I started to see him as a person, not the representation of what murdered my parents and deprived me of the chance of growing up with a father and mother who loved me. Yes…,” he preempted, “I know there are plenty of people around me who love me, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same as having a mother to tuck me into bed and kiss me when I was hurt. It wasn’t the same as having a father to play ball with me and let me ride on his shoulders. I didn’t have it—and he did. I hated him for it. But I realized today that I don’t. I don’t hate
him,
because I don’t know him and….”

Rowan sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up. “Now that I’m beginning to know him, I can’t hate him anymore. It isn’t his fault. It isn’t even his father’s fault, or House Raphael’s fault. Astrin could have died last night, and that
would
have been our fault—my fault, as I was head of the House in residence. There was no difference. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t our fault. It’s the war’s fault.”

“So where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know where to go. If I were Astrin, I’d hate me now, even more than I thought I hated him. What happened to my parents was an accident. What happened to Astrin wasn’t an accident. It was deliberate, and it was my fault. How can he not hate me?” Rowan rubbed his face and lowered his head.

He took a deep breath. “There’s only one thing we can do. There are two Houses without heads, and that can’t be. We have to release him. We have to let him go back to his House, then what happens, happens, and I have to accept it.”

“Is that wise?”

“Wise?”

“If you release him now, there may be no chance of peace. Without Astrin, House Raphael will be headed by Queen Agnes. She will have lost her husband as well as her son, and with enough pressure she’ll give us anything we ask to guarantee Astrin’s safe return. She’ll certainly be far easier to manipulate than Astrin.”

“What? No. No, I wouldn’t even consider that. I’d be no better than I thought they were on my worst days if I took advantage of a woman’s grief like that. No. Whatever happens will be without us compromising our morals and pride.” Rowan snapped his fingers to summon one of the attendants, who hurried to his side and bowed low.

“Your desire, my prince?”

“Ensure a message is sent to Queen Agnes Raphael immediately. Tell her that her son is safe and will be returned to her as soon as he is able to travel.”

“As you wish.” The attendant disappeared.

“How soon can you get Astrin back to normal? Reinstate his memories?”

Ragnor frowned. “It’s not something I would wish to force, Rowan. After what happened last night, I’m extremely reluctant to perform any further procedures. I’d much prefer to allow him to recover naturally.”

“How long will that take? It’s not safe to allow the situation to last for any length of time. It’s too unstable, too open to manipulation and exploitation by our enemies—enemies of both Houses.”

“It might take days—weeks. It will take at least three or four days to recover his strength, let alone his memories.”

Rowan shook his head. “That’s too long. What can we do to shorten the timescale?”

“We can’t force this, Rowan. I was unhappy enough with what I had to do to shut his memories away. I am not going to risk his life to force them to come back when they will do so naturally by themselves, given time.”

“We don’t have time. There must be something we can do.”

“Considering it is
my
life,
my
memories, and
my
kingdom you are discussing, you might try asking
me
,” Astrin said calmly and coldly.

T
HE
P
RINCE
R
ETURNS

F
OR
A
moment there was absolute silence in which Astrin sat quietly, his hands folded in his lap and his eyes fixed on Ragnor’s shocked expression. However, on the inside he was calculating. He still remembered nothing, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t spin truth from what he had.

“How long have you been aware?” Ragnor asked in a low voice, although it was easy for Astrin to see he was tense, like a coiled spring.

“Aware of what? That those who have been taking great pains to assure me they are my friends are
actually
my sworn enemies who have hated me all my life? That far from having been ill for—three months did you say?—I have
actually
been a captive, drugged and helpless in the hands of those who are at war with my country? That when you said you were helping me, you were, in fact, manipulating and deceiving me?”

Turning his head, he met Rowan’s shocked eyes. “What hurts most of all is that I liked you.”

“You must understand, Astrin,” Ragnor said, “that what was done to you was not personal. Our countries are locked in a war that benefits no one but our enemies. People are dying. We are facing a winter of famine and death, for both our peoples. Your captivity bought the chance of peace.”

“Captivity, yes. I could understand that. I’m not a fool. I know the price of war. But that neither explains nor excuses what you have done to me these last few days.”

Ragnor dropped his gaze. “No. It doesn’t.”

“What are you going to do?” Rowan asked softly.

“I don’t know. That depends on what you are going to do.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If you let me go in peace, I will consider my position when I have more information and look at the situation with an open mind. If you do not guarantee my safe and unhindered passage, then I will be forced to take matters into my own hands, and there will be no chance of peace while I wear the crown.”

Astrin’s voice was completely calm and cold. He sat quite still, projecting a sense of relaxation, while inside he was in a state of high alert, his senses straining for the slightest indication he might be attacked.

“Take things into your own hands? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ragnor flinched at Rowan’s words. Astrin didn’t blame him. The young prince was impulsive and headstrong, almost the exact opposite of himself. Had no one been teaching him the diplomacy for which his House was famous?

“You’re in my palace, in the middle of my kingdom,” Rowan continued. “Just how do you think you’re going to get home if I don’t want you to?”

Astrin smiled mildly. “I have no idea. I don’t remember.”

Rowan hesitated, looking confused. “Then… then what… what did you mean?”

“I don’t have to remember how to know I can.”

“Do you have any memories at all, Astrin?” Ragnor asked, professional interest clearly overriding his unrest.

“Do you really think that, in my position, I would volunteer my strengths and weaknesses to you?”

“No, but you should know I did not lie to you. We are your friends, whether you believe it or not. Even more so now. No one ever intended to hurt you, and we genuinely did our very best to care for you while you were in our hands.”

Astrin looked coldly at Ragnor. “Forgive me if I find it very difficult to believe that anyone in this room is my friend. By his own admission, Rowan has hated me and my House for all of my life. And as for you… you say you did your best to take care of me and never intended to hurt me, and yet you stopped my heart last night. For what? To control my mind for one day? Why? So I could walk in the sunshine and play video games?”

“How…? How did you know?”

“I am not a fool, Ragnor. Did you think I would not understand the messages my own body sends to me?”

Ragnor closed his eyes and turned his face away.

“Look…” Rowan seemed to have gained control of his temper, but it was clearly still simmering just under the surface. “I don’t deny we’ve treated you badly. I have to take part of the blame for that.”

Astrin tilted his head and raised a quizzical brow.

“I admit that ever since I was old enough to understand what happened to my parents, I hated your father for ordering the attack in which they were killed. As soon as I was old enough to know you existed, I hated you for no better reason than that you were growing up with a mother and father. I know it was irrational, and I know it was unfair—but I was a child when it began, and by the time I’d reached an age when perhaps I should have known better, the rot was too deep. I couldn’t change.