Rise Of Empire (27 page)

“I want you to do me a favor. Read this again, only this time pretend you hadn’t run away. Read it as if you and your father were on great terms and he was proud of you.”

Hadrian held the parchment up to the moonlight and read it again.

Haddy,

I hope this letter will find you. It’s important that you know there is a reason why you should never use your training for money or fame. I should have told you the truth, but my pain was too great. I can admit to you now I’m ashamed of my life, ashamed of what I failed to do. I suppose you were right. I’m a coward. I let everyone down. I hope you can forgive me, but I can never forgive myself.

love, Da

Before you were born, the year ninety-two,
lost what was precious, and that what was new.
The blink of an eye, the beat of a heart,
Out went the candle, and guilt was my
part.

A king and his knight went hunting a boar,
A rat and his friends were hunting for love.
Together they fought, till one was alive.
The knight sadly wept, no king had survived.

The answers to riddles, to secrets and more,
Are found in the middle of legends and love.
Seek out the answer, and learn if you can
The face of regret, the life of a man
.

“You realize a spadone is a knight’s weapon?” Royce asked.

Hadrian nodded.

“And yours is a very old sword, isn’t it?”

Hadrian nodded again.

“I would venture to guess it’s about nine hundred years old. I think you’re the descendant of Jerish, the Guardian of the Heir,” Royce told him. “Although maybe not literally. The way I heard it, the heir has a direct bloodline but the guardian just needed to pass down his skills. The next in line didn’t need to be his son, although I guess it’s possible.”

Hadrian stared at Royce. He did not know how to feel about this. Part of him was excited, thrilled, vindicated, and part of him was certain Royce was insane.

“And you kept this from me?” Hadrian asked, astonished.

“I didn’t want to tell you until I knew for sure. I thought Esrahaddon might be playing us.”

“Don’t you think I would have thought of that too? What do you take me for? Have you worked with me for twelve years because you think I’m stupid? How conceited can you be? You can’t trust me to make my own decisions, so you make them for me?”

“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?”

“It took you a whole damn year, Royce!” Hadrian shouted at him. “Didn’t you think I’d find this important? When I told you I was miserable because I felt my life lacked
purpose—that I wanted a cause worth fighting for—you didn’t think that protecting the heir qualified?” Hadrian shook his head in disbelief. “You stuck-up, manipulative, lying—”

“I
never
lied to you!”

“No, you just concealed the truth, which to me is a lie, but in
your
twisted little mind is a virtue!”

“I knew you were going to take it this way,” Royce said in a superior tone.

“How else would you expect me to take it? Gee, pal, thanks for thinking so little of me that you couldn’t tell me the truth about my own life.”

“That’s not the reason I didn’t tell you,” Royce snapped.

“You just said it was!”

“I know I did!”

“So you’re lying to me again?”

“Call me a liar one more time—”

“And what? What? You going to fight me?”

“It’s dark in here.”

“But there’s no room for you to hide. You’re only a threat until I get my hands on you. I just need to grab your spindly little neck. For all your quickness, once I get a grip on you, it’s all over.”

Without warning, cold water poured down on them. Looking up, Hadrian saw silhouetted figures.

“You boys, be quiet down there!” shouted a voice. “His Excellency wants a word with you.”

One head disappeared from view and another replaced it at the opening’s edge.

“I’m Luret, the imperial envoy of Her Eminence, the grand imperial empress Modina Novronian. Because of your involvement in escorting a member of the royal court of Melengar to Her Eminence’s enemy, the Nationalists, the two of you are hereby charged with espionage and hitherto will be put to
death by hanging in three days’ time. Should, however, you wish to attempt to rescind that sentence to life in prison, I’d be willing to do so under the condition that you reveal to me the whereabouts of Princess Arista Essendon of Melengar.”

Neither said a word.

“Tell me where she is, or you’ll be hanged as soon as the village carpenter can build a proper gallows.”

Again, they were silent.

“Very well, perhaps a day or two rotting in there will change your mind.” He turned away and spoke to the jailor. “No food or water. It might help to loosen their tongues. Besides, there’s really no sense in wasting it.”

They waited in silence as the figures above moved away.

“How does he know?” Hadrian whispered.

A ghastly look stole over Royce’s face.

“What is it?”

“Etcher. He’s the mole in the Diamond.”

Royce kicked the wall, causing a splash. “How could I’ve been so blind? He was the one who lit the lamp on the river, alerting the wherry behind us. The only reason he never thought to check the mill’s sails was because it didn’t matter to him. I bet he never even told Price where we were, so there would be no way for the Diamond to find us. There must be an ambush waiting at Amberton Lee, or somewhere along the way.”

“But why take her there? Why not just turn Arista over to Luret?”

“I’d wager this is Merrick’s game. He doesn’t want some imperial clown like Luret getting the prize. She’s a commodity which can be sold to the empire, or ransomed to Melengar for a profit. If Luret grabs her, he gets nothing.”

“So why tell Luret about us at all?”

“Insurance. With the manor officials after us, we’d be
pressed for time and wouldn’t question Etcher’s story. I’m sure it was to hasten our departure and have us unprepared, but it turned out even better, because you were captured and I decided to stay behind to help you.”

“And you sent Arista off alone with Etcher.”

“She’s on her way to Merrick, or Guy, or both. Maybe they’ll keep her and demand Alric surrender Medford. He won’t, of course. Pickering won’t let him.”

“I can’t believe Alric sent her in the first place. What an idiot! Why didn’t he pick a representative outside the royal court? Why did he have to send
her?”

“He didn’t send her,” Royce said. “I doubt anyone in Medford has a clue where she is. She did this on her own.”

“What?”

“She arrived at The Rose and Thorn unescorted. Have you
ever
seen her go anywhere without a bodyguard?”

“So why did you—”

“Because I needed an excuse to bring you here, to find out if what Esrahaddon showed me was true.”

“So this is
my
fault?” Hadrian asked.

“No, it’s everyone’s fault: you for pushing so hard to retire, me for not telling you the truth, Arista for being reckless, even your father for never having told you who you really are.”

They sat in silence a moment.

“So what do we do now?” Hadrian said at last. “Your original plan isn’t going to work so well anymore.”

“Why do I always have to come up with the plans, Mr. I’m-Not-So-Stupid?”

“Because when it comes to deciding how I should live my own life, I should be the one to choose—but when getting out of a prison, even as pathetic as it is, that’s more your area of expertise.”

Royce sighed and began to look around at the walls.

“By the way,” Hadrian began, “what was the
real
reason you didn’t tell me?”

“Huh?”

“A bit ago you said—”

“Oh.” Royce continued to study the walls. He seemed a little too preoccupied by them. Just as Hadrian was sure he would not answer, Royce said, “I didn’t want you to leave.”

Hadrian almost laughed at the comment, thinking it was a joke, and then nearly bit his tongue. Thinking of Royce as anything but callous was difficult. Then he realized Royce never had a family and precious few friends. He had grown up an orphan on the streets of Ratibor, stealing his food and clothes and likely receiving his share of beatings for it. He had probably joined the Diamond as much from a desire to belong as a means to profit. After only a few short years, they had betrayed him. Hadrian realized at that moment that Royce did not see him as just his partner, but his family. Along with Gwen and perhaps Arcadius, Hadrian was the only one he had.

“You ready?” Royce asked.

“For what?”

“Turn around. Let’s go back-to-back and link arms.”

“You’re kidding. We aren’t going to do that again, are we?” Hadrian said miserably. “I’ve been sitting in cold water for hours. I’ll cramp.”

“You know another way to get up there?” Royce asked, and Hadrian shook his head. Royce looked up. “It isn’t even as high as the last time and it’s narrower, so it’ll be easier. Stand up and stretch a second. You’ll be fine.”

“What if the guard is up there with a stick to poke us with?”

“Do you want to get out of here or not?”

Hadrian took a deep breath. “I’m still mad at you,” he said, turning and linking arms back-to-back with Royce.

“Yeah, well, I’m not too happy with me either right now.”

They began pushing against each other as they walked up the walls of the pit. Immediately Hadrian’s legs began to protest the effort, but the strain on his legs was taken up some by the tight linking of their arms and the stiff leverage it provided.

“Push harder against me,” Royce told him.

“I don’t want to crush you.”

“I’m fine. Just lean back more.”

Initially the movement was clumsy and the exertion immense, but soon they fell into a rhythm.

“Step,” Royce whispered. The pressure against each other was sufficient to keep them pinned.

“Step.” They slid another foot up, scraping over the stony sides.

The water running down the walls gave birth to a slippery slime and Hadrian carefully placed his feet on the drier bricks and used the cracks for traction. Royce was infinitely better at this sort of thing, and likely impatient with their progress. Hadrian was far less comfortable and often pushed too hard. His legs were longer and stronger and he had to keep remembering to relax.

They finally rose above the level of the slime to where the rock was dry, and they moved with more confidence. They were now high enough that a fall would break bones. He started to perspire with the effort, and his skin was slicked with sweat. A droplet cascaded down his face and hung dangling on the tip of his nose. Above, he could see the grate growing larger, but it was still a maddening distance away.

What if we can’t make it? How can we get back down besides falling?

Hadrian had to push the thought out of his mind and concentrate. Nothing good would come from anticipating failure.
Instead, he forced himself to think of Arista riding to her death or capture. They had to make it up—and quickly—before his legs lost all their strength. Already they shook from fatigue, buckling under the strain.

As they neared the top, Royce stopped calling steps. Hadrian kept his eyes on the wall where he placed his feet, but felt Royce tilting his head back, peering up. “Stop,” Royce whispered. Panting for air, they steadied themselves, unlinked arms, and grabbed the grating. Letting their tortured legs fall loose, they hung for a minute. The release of the strain was wonderful, and Hadrian closed his eyes with pleasure as he gently swayed.

“Good news and bad news,” Royce said. “No guards, but it’s locked.”

“You can do something about that, right?”

“Just give me a second.”

He could feel Royce shifting around behind him. “Got it.” There was another brief pause and Hadrian’s fingers were starting to hurt. “Okay, we’ll slide it to your left, ready? Feet up.”

The grate was lighter than Hadrian had expected, and it easily slid clear. They hauled themselves out, rolling on the damp grass of the manor’s lawn, and lay for a second catching their breath. They were alone in a darkened corner of the manor’s courtyard.

“Weapons?” Hadrian asked.

“I’ll check the house. You see about getting horses.”

“Don’t kill anyone,” Hadrian mentioned.

“I’ll try not to, but if I see Luret—”

“Oh yeah, kill him.”

Hadrian worked his way carefully toward the courtyard stable. The horses started at his approach, snorting and
bumping loudly into the stall dividers. He grabbed the first saddle and bridle he found and discovered they were familiar. Arista’s bay mare, his horse, and Mouse were corralled with the rest.

“Easy, girl,” Hadrian whispered softly as he threw the blankets on two of them. He buckled the last bridle around Mouse’s neck when Royce came in carrying a bundle of swords.