The Dragonprince's Heir (6 page)

"Clever enough," he said. "And you stole the key to the room downstairs. You've been keeping it secret for six years now."

I didn't bother lying. I just nodded. He said nothing else.

After a while I raised my head. He didn't look angry. I turned down the corners of my mouth. "I'm sorry I bit your hand," I said. "That was childish."

"You were fighting to be free," he said. "By that point, it was the only thing to do."

"I don't—"

"You should apologize for leaving your room," he said, still quiet. "That was childish. You should apologize to your mother. To every man, woman, and child in this place. You have cost them...everything."

"You planned to kill the king," I said, but it sounded hollow.

"Your mother would not allow it," he said. "Nor would your father, if he were here. It's a shame, though. It would have saved us much suffering."

"Then why the forges?" I asked. "Why have carts been bringing them new iron since the king arrived?"

"Hm. In some ways, you are as clever as a crow. In others, you're as dumb as a cow. You're difficult to understand."

I opened my mouth to object to that...and shut it again. He'd already done as much to humiliate me as could be done. There was little sting left in an insult from his tongue. But after a moment I shook my head and asked again, "Then why the forges?"

"For all the reasons you suspect, and none of the purposes," he said. "To arm us every one, in case it comes down to a fight to the death. I think it won't—I think your mother will not let it—and I think we'll all be sorrier for that."

"Why would it—" I tried to ask, but he cut me off with a shake of his head and a raised hand.

"Your mother will be along shortly," he said. "She will speak with you. For now, sit and think. Perhaps you will find some answers on your own."

I did as he instructed. Not out of obedience. But I had no other choice. I leaned my head back against the hard stone wall and fought a groan as I replayed the events yet again in my head. I'd made a fool of myself.

Worse, I'd embarrassed Mother. She'd driven me to it, but she had been forced to stand idly by while the king called me down, while Caleb dragged me kicking and screaming from the room. She'd been left to deal with the aftermath I'd been spared. I owed her an apology for that, if nothing else. I'd been trying so hard to protect my dignity that I'd stained hers.

Even as the determination settled in my breast, my door swung open. And she was there. She swept into the room, and I noticed a nervous look in her eyes as she glanced back out into the hall. Then she pressed the door silently shut and turned back to us.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but she gave me no chance. She turned to Caleb, her back to me, and said, "You must disarm them all." She sounded breathless.

Wrinkles appeared around Caleb's dark eyes when he frowned. He grunted. "Things went badly?"

"The king has gone back out to his men. To organize them. They will move inside the walls before nightfall."

Caleb growled, low in his throat. "You didn't invite them—"

"I was not given the opportunity," Mother said. "The king expressed his intention. He brings his army inside the walls. He is most unhappy. If he sees so much as a naked kitchen knife, he might order his men to end the insurrection here and now."

I started to my feet. "Insurrection? This is Father's fortress. These are Father's people."

Mother turned to me, and her eyes were sad. "Daven holds no official claim. This land belongs to the king."

"What? But he's a hero! What he did during the dragonswarm...that has to change things."

"No!" she snapped. "That is the point. Everything Daven did he did to prevent the dragonswarm from changing things."

Caleb shook his head. "That was his problem. For all his talk of true reality, he never could see the darkest aspects of human nature."

Something unexpected and hot boiled up behind my breastbone. I took a step toward Caleb, but Mother dropped one hand lightly on my shoulder, and the fury died on my lips.

"Caleb's right," she told me. "And that blindness is the only reason your father was able to do what he did here. Daven believed in something better, and he made it a reality."

She took a deep breath, blew it out slow, then turned to meet Caleb's eyes. "Go," she said. "Confiscate their arms. Put them somewhere safe. The king understands we have a small defensive force, plus your knights."

"How small?"

"Perhaps a hundred. Perhaps. The king is prepared to forget the show of force that greeted him at the gate."

"But—"

"I do not want a war," she said. "Now go. I must speak with my son."

Caleb wanted to argue with her further. I could see it on his face. But after a heavy handful of heartbeats, he turned smartly on his heel and left through the door. I saw my knights once again at their station outside the door. I sighed.

Mother caught it. She frowned down at me. "Taryn—"

"I'm sorry, Mother," I said, meek enough to cut her off in absolute astonishment. "I acted like a child, I made a fool of myself, and I embarrassed you before the king. I harmed your reputation out of selfish pride. I'm sorry."

She didn't answer. After a while my curiosity won out, and I raised my eyes to hers. There were no easy emotions to read. I'd hoped to find sympathy, forgiveness. I'd feared to find anger, disappointment. She only looked tired.

I hated to see her like that, and this time it was my doing. The shame was sharp-edged and swift. Somehow, I would have to set it right.

"I'm sorry," I said again.

She shook her head. "You are, and for all the wrong reasons. I care nothing about the esteem of King Timmon."

"But you were just defending him. You said Father was dedicated to him."

"Daven fought for the kingdom, Taryn. Not for this king. No, your father fought for the kingdom
despite
this king. I tried to warn you earlier. I suppose I should have spoken more clearly. You did act as a child, but perhaps it is only because I've treated you too much like one."

I hung my head at that. She pulled me into a hug and held me against her for a moment in silence. "The king does not like us," she said. "Your...performance today played only a very small part in that. He has never liked us."

"But Father did so much—"

She nodded against the side of my head. "He did. And everything Daven achieved made him seem more a threat to King Timmon. Every success, every sacrifice, every dragon slain increased your father's popularity and frightened the king further."

I thought about it for a moment, and my breath caught. I had to swallow before I could speak. "You said...he called it insurrection."

She nodded.

I shook my head. "No. He really thinks that was Father's plan? Oh, Haven's name, he called me the
heir
!"

She nodded again. "You called yourself the Dragonprince."

"I just...I wanted to impress him."

"And in so doing, you confirmed every jealous fear he has ever felt about this place. About your Father. About us."

"I can...apologize," I said, but it sounded weak in my own ears.

"No," she said. "No, these are things he has believed in defiance of proof and reason for fifteen years. You will not sway him with an apology."

"But.... Is there going to be a...a war? What will he do to us?"

"He will grace us with his presence for the span of three days," she said. "It is somewhat customary. We will treat him to every courtesy and provide him a tour of our lands and an accounting of our current developments."

"That doesn't sound so terrible."

My door opened, and Caleb joined us again. The emotion he'd shown earlier was gone now. He was himself again, still and dark and distant as a thundercloud and just as deadly. Mother glanced at him, but when he kept his silence she returned her attention to me.

"It will be very polite," she said. "You may even enjoy some of it. There will be feasts in the great hall, and there will be songs and stories."

I shook my head. "No. I'd just be a reminder."

She gave me a frail smile. "He has requested your attendance, and there is little left to gain from hiding you away."

I hung my head. "I've made myself into a fool. Anything I do or say will only make things worse. Let me hide."

"The king has made his request," she said. "It would be unwise to refuse it."

Caleb grunted. "It might well rouse his suspicion and make things worse."

I hung my head, defeated.

Mother held her hands out to me until I gave her mine. "Do try to enjoy it. I'm sorry tonight went so badly for you, but you will have three days to enjoy the feasting."

Behind her, Caleb raised his eyebrows. "He's only staying three?"

There was hope in his voice at that. But Mother's expression only turned more grim. "Yes. We get three days."

The hope died in Caleb's eyes. "And then?"

"Then the king will return to the City. And...he has invited us to join him. To spend a season at Court."

I caught my mother's arm and asked, "Well? Are we going?"

Caleb growled, "Of course you're not going."

"We are going," Mother said. "All of us."

I felt a flash of excitement at that. I had grown up in a fortress crafted of pure sorcery, surrounded by an army dedicated to my family's legacy. It was a special destiny. Yet I had never been outside the walls. I had never seen a true city. I had heard stories of the capitol, though—of the soaring Halls of Justice and the gold-wrought palace gates looming tall over the courtyard where the FirstKing had accepted fealty from the last of the cruel kings of men after he burned storied Chantire to the ground.

I would visit the City. I would go with Mother, to be presented at Court. For a season, at least, we could get away from the heavy burden of this fortress and its people.

But, as always, Caleb sought to thwart me. He stomped toward my mother. "You're not going. I can find you a way out."

I jumped to my feet and squeezed in front of Mother to face him down. "We are! You do not make the decisions around here!"

He didn't even glance at me. He stared right over the top of my head, eyes still locked on Mother's.

She said, "He's right, Caleb."

"No. It is on my honor to protect you—"

"And you can," I said, pleading. "That's why she asked you to come with us."

"Isabelle," he said, "I swear to you, I can find a way to get you out." His eyes flicked down to me, and his nose wrinkled. "Both of you. Safe."

"I believe you," Mother said. "I do. But you could not protect the people in the courtyard. If we run—"

"Then stay," Caleb growled. "Stay here. The king has only moved a fraction of his army inside our walls. Give the word, and I'll vouch that not another man will pass, magic gate or none. Do not underestimate the courage of your people, Isabelle. We have fought the king to an impasse before."

"You?" I asked. "No. That was my father's doing."

Caleb growled over the top of my head. "Would you shut him up?"

Mother sighed. "He's not wrong. How strong are you really without Daven's help?"

Caleb staggered back a step. She might as well have slapped him. Anger and hurt and helplessness seared across his expression before his eyes turned cold and hard again. "We can do
something
."

"We can," she said. "We can go with the king."

"No," he said. "What about your white—"

"Caleb, hush." Her voice was soft as a summer breeze and solid as a mountain. "We will go with the king. Anything else would compromise my husband's legacy."

Fury flared like an inferno in Caleb's eyes. His jaw clenched until ropey muscles stood out on both sides. I saw his fists were clenched just as hard. I drew myself taller, trying to shield my mother.

But Caleb did not strike. I watched the heat in his eyes dissipate and the strength go out of him.

He raised a hand to plead instead, but I shook my head. "Why would you stop us, Caleb? This is a good opportunity for my family, whom you serve."

A new anger flared in his eyes, but it too passed. "This is not an opportunity. This is a judgment."

"A judgment?" I laughed. "He's taking us from the end of the world back to the heart of civilization. He's taking us to the court. It's an honor!"

"No," Mother said behind me. "Caleb's right. Think it through."

Caleb shook his head. "He can't grasp it. He's too excited at the thought of seeing a playhouse or buying a round in a tavern. The boy's heard too many stories."

"The dragonswarm is over!" I said. "Mother has spoken much of the kingdom, but as much as anything Father's goal was to save civilization. To save those kinds of luxuries and entertainment. Isn't it so?" I held his gaze, breathing a little heavy and waiting for him to object.

He stuck out his chin, but he didn't deny my claim.

I felt a smile touch my lips, but my words still tasted bitter. "And here, at the heart of his great plan, we've been free of dragons for ten years. Yet we still live encased in walls of stone. We still march and scout and train. We live like prisoners. Like refugees. Life should be soft and gentle and pleasant. Isn't that the point?"

He sneered at me, but Mother gripped my shoulders with both hands and pulled me back against her. She kissed the back of my head. "Oh, Taryn," she said. "It isn't over. The fight isn't won. There are graver threats than the dragons."

Caleb chuckled and shook his head. "He shares his father's blindness."

"Stop it!" I shouted. "Stop talking over my head. If I'm so ignorant then tell me. What is it I can't see?"

Caleb exchanged a glance with Mother. She released my shoulders and moved around to stand beside Caleb. "There are nine cities," she said. "Nine that we know of. Cara. Whitefalls and Tirah. Most of Pollix. Three port towns on the northern coast. Dorion in the Northlands. And the capitol."

She stopped, as though that were some kind of explanation. I knit my brow, trying to grasp it. After a moment I gave up. "What of them?"

"That's all," she said. "Across more than a thousand leagues, the great sprawling empire the FirstKing built, all that remains of the old kingdom is nine cities. That is all the government in the world. All that's left of civilization, as far as we know."