The Dragonprince's Heir (10 page)

Caleb did not speak to me the whole time—none of them did—and I made no effort to speak with them. I sat in the dirt and stared at my hands and ate my meal in silence.

We rested for half an hour, and then we moved on. We were perhaps a mile down the road before Jen rejoined us. She reported to Caleb in hushed tones I could not overhear. Caleb only nodded. Then Jen fell in place beside Toman, the two of them still three paces ahead of me, and we pressed on in silence again until darkness forced us to stop.

All around us soldiers began setting out blankets or crude tents. Some handful even tried to make campfires of the thin, gnarled shrubs that grew this far south. The vast majority simply found places flat enough and clear enough and fell asleep upon the earth.

I waited for Caleb's bark of command, but this time he gave no orders. As soon as we came to a halt he tossed the reins of his horse to a waiting Jen, glanced at me and Toman, and then he drifted off into the disordered mess that made up our corner of the army camp. Jen picketed the horses while Toman and I set out our bedrolls. I was almost done when Jen came over, glanced at me, met Toman's eyes, then drifted off in the direction Caleb had gone.

I turned after her and stared into the darkness long after I'd lost sight of her.

"He's really quite a leader," Toman said.

I jumped at the sound of his voice. I spun to face him, hand on the hilt of my sword and heart battering at the back of my throat.

The corner of the knight's mouth quirked toward a smile, but he waved a hand in a gesture of apology. "I did not mean to startle you."

I shrugged one shoulder. "No, I'm sorry," I said. After a moment I turned back to the darkness. "What is Caleb up to?"

"It is as you said. He means to bring order to Souward's Seventh."

I turned to him, my eyes wide.

His mouth twitched toward a smile again. "He must do something to pass the time."

I gave him a commiserating smile. "Too bad he left us out of his plans. It would be nice to have a task to pass the time."

He opened his mouth. He shut it again. He looked away.

"Oh," I said. "Of course. You have a task. He has left me a nursemaid."

He shook his head. "I am honor bound to protect your person. It is no simple task."

"I'll gladly release you from that commitment," I said. "I'd be happier—"

"My commitment was not made to you."

"Oh." I met his gaze for a moment, and then I nodded. "Your apprenticeship is going well, I'd say. You are nearly as aggravating as he is."

He shrugged one shoulder, face passive. Then he sank down onto his bedroll, bent his knees before him, and stared unfocused into the middle distance. "Get some sleep," he said. "I'll take watch until Jen returns."

I wanted to argue. I wanted to make some excuse to leave. Or even take him with me. Once I was moving, I could usually slip away from both knights together, so one should be no challenge at all. But then, that was at home. Out here I might have to wander for hours through the maze of the king's camp before I could shake him.

I felt my defiance wilt even as I considered it. I had neither the strength nor the patience to lead Toman blindly through the camp. I hadn't even the energy to argue with him. A yawn cracked my jaw, and I let myself sink down on my bedroll.

Everyone who grew up in my father's stronghold grew up strong. Caleb trained us hard and worked us hard. My name had done nothing to spare me that. Even so, it had been a long day's walk, and I had not slept at all the night before. The strain of it washed over me all in one great, crashing wave, and my chin dipped forward against my chest before I could catch it.

I gave my head a little shake, but I couldn't keep my eyes open. I stretched out, and tugged a thin blanket to cover me. In moments I was asleep.

It seemed bare moments later when a quiet noise startled me awake, but the gloom of dusk had settled into deep darkness, scarcely held at bay by the handful of campfires still smoldering. I kept very still and slit my eyes, looking around.

Jen stood a couple paces away, hovering over a tiny, banked fire that Toman had built. As I watched she sank down on her knees and stretched her hands toward the flames.

Toman asked her, "Well? How did it go?"

"More complicated than we'd hoped," Jen said. "But still within our reach. How about you?"

"Me?" Toman laughed. He waved in my direction. "The little prince was easy. Worn out. I told him to get in bed, and he's been out ever since." He gave a dramatic sigh. "Mostly I've been sitting and waiting. I wish I had brought a book. Two thousand in the tower library, and I didn't think to bring one."

"Should've just knocked off," Jen said. "You could use the rest, too."

"And leave him unwatched?"

Jen chuckled. "You said yourself he was worn out. I guarantee you we'll be kicking him awake tomorrow."

"I wouldn't risk it," Toman said. "What if it'd been Caleb who came back first, instead of you?"

Jen didn't answer right away. She pursed her lips, thinking, then shrugged one shoulder. "Caleb has projects of his own. I don't suspect he'll be back before dawn."

Toman almost asked. I saw it in his expression. And I saw him realize that Jen already would have told him what those projects were, if she'd been willing to share. It was gratifying to see his frustration as he snapped his mouth shut. After a long moment he shrugged.

"Get some sleep," Jen said. "We've got a long road ahead."

"You'll take the watch?" Toman asked, but he was already digging his way into his bedroll as he said it.

"Sure," Jen said. "Of course. Diligently."

It was a matter of moments before Toman's snore began to claw at the night's still. Jen smirked, staring into the fire, then after a while she turned her gaze on me. I kept my breathing slow and steady, kept my body still, but still her eyes narrowed.

"Are you awake?"

I didn't move.

After a moment she shrugged. "I wouldn't put it past you, you little snake."

A growl started low in my throat before I could restrain myself, but I did my best to turn it into a convincing snore.

She laughed. "You're pathetic, Taryn."

I stuck to my training with deep, even, calming breaths. Even if she didn't believe the charade, she could hardly keep up an argument if I didn't respond.

But she clicked her tongue as though weighing some deep insight. "Well," she announced, "since you're asleep, Caleb can hardly punish me for speaking my mind."

I winced at that. I wanted to groan. Over by the fire she got down on her hands and knees, and with a grand show of exaggerated stealth she crawled over to crouch beside my bed. She bent over me until her loose blond hair tickled my nose. She smelled like cinnamon and sour beer and sweat.

Then she whispered in my ear, "You could be a major lord in your lifetime. You could be a king if you wanted. You have grown up at the feet of some of the most amazing people in the world, but
you waste it
. You're spending your life moping that your father left and clutching at your mother's apron strings. It makes me sick."

She sank back on her heels and just sat there staring at me. My control was gone now, my breath panting in and out in something just short of sobs. She couldn't possibly have been deceived.

But I couldn't bear to face her. I kept my eyes and my mouth shut, and after a while she grumbled something bitter and went to sit by the fire. In time, exhaustion took some mercy on me and dragged me into darkness.

Jen kicked me awake before dawn, and a grumpy Caleb snapped at me to serve out breakfast. Jen watched me the whole time, eyes sharp but no expression on her face. She was just waiting for me to complain.

I refused to give her the satisfaction. It was the smallest kind of defiance, but it was the best I could manage. I served the food. I went to fill our waterskins with Toman trailing along behind. I stowed our gear so we were ready to move as soon as the sun rose.

We pressed north until noon, crawling across the scorched earth between black mountain ranges. Nothing changed for hours at a time.

When we finally stopped and Caleb took Jen aside to make whispered plans, she positioned herself where I could see her. The whole time they talked she kept her eyes on mine and a cruel little smile on her lips.

Then she nodded once and darted away toward the front of the train. I tried to catch Caleb's arm, but he shook me off and disappeared as well. Just like yesterday.

Day after day we crept north, and each one was just like the last. Toman watched me constantly. Caleb and Jen plotted and went their separate ways. I did the work of a servant and endured the treatment of a prisoner of war.

My every attempt at conversation beyond coordinating the chores ended in disaster. By the end of the third day I gave up entirely.

Early on the fourth day we turned west toward a great pass in the mountains. My spirits rose a little at that, but when we stopped to make camp ten hours later we still hadn't reached the foothills. I wanted to cry.

By then our process was routine. Caleb slipped away as soon as the formation came to a halt. Jen hung around until he was out of sight, then she left. Toman set out his bed roll and built our fire, then he took a sentry position while I set up the rest of the camp.

And tonight, just like every other night, I stretched out on my blankets to the clamor of my own frustrations. Everything within me itched to slip away and find out what Caleb and Jen were up to. No. I didn't even want to see them. I wanted to make my way to the carriages at the front of the train and spend the rest of this miserable trip with my mother.

But shame pinned me in place. I could not forget the cruel things Jen had whispered in my ear, or the dispassionate speech Caleb had made before. Was I truly such a disappointment? Was I the greatest threat to my mother?

For four days I had tried to show them I wasn't. I had tried to behave the way they wanted of me, but it had gained me nothing. Caleb still ignored me. Jen still mocked me. Toman still dismissed me. If this was all the reward I could expect from obedience, I thought perhaps I would prefer the slander. Even the king had treated me more kindly than this, and he imagined me a traitor!

I was thinking of these things and staring at the stars when I heard the soft, familiar wheeze of Toman's snore. I looked his way and found him slumped near the fire. Asleep on watch. He'd hear from Caleb about that.

But then I grinned. Perhaps there was some reward for good behavior after all. I'd lulled even steadfast Toman into complacency. If tonight were like that rest, Jen would not be back for hours yet. I pushed up into a crouch, but Toman didn't move at all. I gave him to a count of two hundred, then pushed away my blanket and climbed to my feet.

I made no sound, but otherwise I wasted no effort on stealth. He could have caught me with a little subterfuge, but after four days he didn't respect me enough to try it. I looked down on him for a moment, shaking my head, then I turned and slipped off into the night.

I moved slowly, though. Moonlight showed my path, and the hard, dry ground offered little obstacle, but my whole body was tensed, my ears straining, while I waited to hear a shout from Toman or a returning Jen. I went perhaps twenty paces expecting it at any moment, heart pounding, but then I put the picket of our horses between me and Toman's campfire without any sound of alarm, and my next breath came easier.

Another dozen paces carried me past a camp where three of Souward's foot soldiers leaned close over their own fire, sharing stories and a dirty bottle of smoky liquor. I earned no more than a glance from them as I passed, and then I had their camp, too, between Toman and me. After that I moved swiftly, sure-footed as a fox, and soon I didn't even need to sneak. I left the vigilant knight sleeping and made my way out of our formation.

There were sentries posted beyond the outer edge of the camp, but they were meant to keep enemies and pilferers from gaining entry. They paid little attention to the late-night movements of individuals already inside the lines. I slipped easily along a lane that took me past the supply wagons and the seamstresses and the cooks. I saw perhaps a dozen other souls awake as I moved toward the lines of the military men, but none of them spared me more than a glance.

The military men gave me more trouble. As I approached the first line of infantry, I accidentally made eye contact with someone sitting on the southwest corner of his formation. He might have been a posted sentry or just a sleepless soldier, but he popped to his feet as I approached.

"Oi!" he called. "Who're you?"

I met his eyes and tried my lie. "I'm a squire of Lord Souward's. On an errand."

His eyes narrowed. "What's your errand?"

My heart hammered, but I didn't look away. I kept my voice level. "I.... I'm searching for the officer of Souward's Seventh. He's been missing since we left the Tower."

The soldier peered closer for a moment. Then he threw his head back and laughed. "Old Cotter? You might better say he's been missing since Tirah. Doesn't make a lot of difference, though, does it?"

I blinked. "Does it?"

He shook his head and chuckled. "Haven't found him yet? Try the seamstresses' camp. Or the alchemists down east end. Could be either one." His eyes shone with a private humor.

I gave him an amused smile and a bit of a blush that I didn't have to fake. "Tried them both already, and everywhere else I can think of. Just going back to report to Lord Souward now."

The soldier's laughter dissolved. He fixed me with a look of perfect pity. "Being the bearer of bad news, are you? Haven watch over you, boy. Better sooner than later, anyway. Get on."

I encountered two more soldiers standing sentry among the archers' formations, and then an officer, too, who confronted me through a fog of bourbon fumes. I borrowed some of the things I'd learned from the first soldier to smooth out my lie, and each new encounter gave me more to work with.

By the time I reached the drunken officer, I made it through the conversation without a single suspicious glance, and with a gift of a silver coin earned of heartfelt sympathy. I chuckled to myself as I scurried on up the lane, closer and closer to the carriages and the camp where my mother slept.