The Dragonprince's Heir (9 page)

Caleb didn't even glance that way, but the man on his left went livid. Before Pollix could scream his rage, the officer in front of us shook his head. "You have been prepared a place among Souward's Seventh. That is the king's order."

Caleb's lip curled in a sneer. "Ardain Foot. I see."

The officer's face remained carefully impassive, but he still did not meet Caleb's eyes. Caleb took another deep breath—this one considerably less calm—but after a moment he shook his head like an angry dog. "So be it."

I gaped. "No. We're not riding at the middle of the train! We're joining Mother."

Caleb said, "Hush, Taryn."

I turned to the officer and drew myself up tall. "Do with them as you will. I shall join the Lady Isabelle."

He shook his head, irritation in his eyes. "There is no room."

"She is my mother!"

He turned up one palm in a contemptuous shrug. "The order has been given. The king made no exception."

"I don't care!" I shouted and kicked my horse forward. I was ready to push right past him, but Caleb caught my reins and hauled back hard enough that my horse reared, and it was everything I could do to keep my seat.

While I was still fighting to regain control, he spoke to the officer. "Where is Souward's Seventh?"

"Left flank rearguard," the officer said. "Your escorts know the way."

"Ah," he said. I settled my horse at last, and Caleb caught my reins before I could move. He spoke to the officer. "Go and tell your king we've arrived, then. Tell him we've gone along quietly. I think he'll want to know."

The officer's lips compressed into a line, but Caleb turned his back on them. Caleb dragged me along with him, and my knights fell in beside us. The three cavalrymen who had lined up behind us had their eyes fixed over our shoulders, but they must have received some silent signal, because they nodded together, wheeled in place, and led us back the way we had come.

We rode ten paces before Caleb grunted by my side. "Keep up that glare and you're liable to hurt your eyes."

I tore my gaze from the soldiers escorting us down the line. "Caleb, we're as good as prisoners."

"Child, we've been prisoners since the moment Isabelle went to meet the king beneath our broken gates."

"And they can just—"

"He is king," Caleb said, with bitterness and finality in equal measures. One of our escorts turned in his seat to frown back at us, but he could not meet Caleb's glare for long. Caleb shook his head. "We must trust to Isabelle's plans for now. She is neither weak nor foolish."

"I should be with her," I said.

Caleb nodded. "I should, certainly. You're right this time."

He fell silent again after that. I glanced up to his eyes, but he did not appear to be scheming. He looked lazy and distant. I growled my frustration and gripped my reins too tightly and followed our escorts to the back of the train.

I spent my time thinking. The contingent was a large one, sprawling, and organized though it was, it showed signs of the same busy disorder that always plagued large bodies of men. Even with the king's order out concerning us, we had moved easily enough through the ranks until we'd reached the line of the cavalry.

Others had moved even among the cavalry, though. I'd seen servants and messengers scurrying north and south while we stopped in place to address the cavalrymen. I'd seen soldiers shifting among the formations, and I'd watched the officer who had faced us turn on his heel and gallop off unchallenged to the very front of the train.

Movement was possible. That was everything I needed to know. They'd only stopped us when they recognized us. And they'd only recognized us together. No one here knew
me
. Without Caleb's ominous shadow hanging over my shoulder and two liveried knights at my heels, I'd look like any other page or squire hurrying on his master's errand.

I watched my escorts and fought to keep the hope from my expression. These three knew me. They would lead me to the formation of Souward's Seventh, and perhaps a handful of infantrymen there would take note of me. But as long as they did not clap me in chains, I would be free to move around soon enough. I would be free to slip away. And as long as I avoided the formations of the two officers who had confronted us, I could steal a path all the way to Mother's carriage. I was sure of it.

Souward's Seventh turned out to be a formation of light infantry on the far southwest corner of the train. We passed the cooks, the craftsmen, the baggage carts, and found a sole military formation at the very rear. I quickly came to understand Caleb's show of disdain. The men of Souward's Seventh were small and wiry. They looked uneducated, unwashed, and underfed—though they were working on that last one at the moment. The whole formation was stopped, sprawled in the dirt while they ate cold rations and passed around skins of sour-smelling beer.

Caleb wouldn't have tolerated such men anywhere inside the fortress walls. I felt no such animosity, though. These did not look like careful caretakers. Our escorts guided us into the heart of the formation, and I saw them scanning left and right, searching among the rough soldiers for some sign of an officer. I caught Caleb's quiet smirk, and fought down a smile of my own.

We wandered for some time among the lounging soldiers, then the cavalrymen turned to us with a fair pretense at confidence. One of them cleared his throat. "These are your companions," he said. "You'll be expected to keep up, pull your weight, and stay in formation."

His head swiveled one more time, and Caleb raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure an officer will be along shortly to get us sorted out."

The cavalryman blinked. He must have heard the sarcasm in Caleb's voice, but after a heartbeat he only nodded. "Precisely." He lingered a moment longer, trying to find something else to say, then wheeled his horse and headed back north. His companions followed close on his heels.

Caleb shook his head. "Shameful." He strained up in his stirrups for a moment, his gaze fixed hard on the north horizon, as though he could see Mother's carriage across the miles. After a long time he sighed and swung smoothly down out of his saddle.

"Well, come on," he said. "Might as well get some food in us."

Jen and Toman both jumped to obey, but I stayed where I was, mind racing. "Perhaps," I started, but Caleb's gaze hit me like a hammer. I had to swallow hard. "Perhaps I should try to find an officer. Let him know we're here."

Caleb snorted. "He'll be off among the seamstresses, mark my words. Or drunk in the shade of a tree anywhere between here and the Tower. No, we're on our own."

"Still," I said, searching for another excuse, but he caught my shoulder and pulled me hard enough off balance that I slipped from my saddle. I had to scramble for a grip to keep from crashing to the ground.

As soon as I was stable, Caleb thrust a heavy bag against my chest. "Pass out some food, Taryn. Jen, go make some friends and scare up some water. Or beer, if that's all they've got. Toman, see to the horses."

I glared up at him. "You are terribly comfortable with all this."

He turned a flat gaze to me. And then, for just a moment, the control seemed to vanish. I saw the fury in his eyes. I saw the mad violence, barely restrained. His lips peeled back, his nostrils flared, and the great angry muscles across his shoulders and down his arms strained against the seams of his armor. I fought to hide it, but a shiver chased down my spine. After a heartbeat, I had to look away.

"We have our orders, and we will obey them." Caleb's breath burned hot and loud. "Do not mistake obedience for comfort. We go along quietly. For now. And we will make our plans."

My heart sped up a bit at that. I glanced left and right, then took a short step closer. I lowered my voice. "What are our plans?"

He took a breath and let it go, and in an instant the fire was gone from his eyes. "You're going to get our lunch ready. Then you're going to clean up after us. Then you're going to walk your horse to Cara."

"But—"

"We have our orders," he said. "You have yours. Get to work."

5. In the King's Camp

Jen was only gone a moment, but still somehow she came back with clean, cold water, a skin of beer, and a bottle of wine. Caleb tucked the wine away for later and let the knights share the beer. With all my chores, I had barely found a chance to gnaw a crust and slake my thirst before the supply wagons north of us and the farriers to our east began moving again. We heard no orders passed, and still saw no signs of an officer, but the foot soldiers in our formation began climbing to their feet and dusting themselves off with many a grumble and complaint.

"Time to move," Caleb said.

I groaned. "Give us some time yet. We can catch up with them."

Caleb gave me a half-hearted kick. "On your feet. Our highest priority now is to be forgotten. We move with the formation." He turned in place and ran an appraising gaze over our traveling companions.

He was thinking. I watched him for a moment, then I shook my head in disbelief. "You're ready to start taking over, aren't you?"

"Someone should put some order in this lot. They're a disgrace."

"A good thing, too!" He frowned at me, and I lowered my voice. "Disgraceful soldiers make lousy wardens."

He gave a chuckle that shook his heavy shoulders, then clapped a hand on my shoulder. "You've got a tactical mind, don't you? But now is not the time. Pack our things. You can finish your bread while we're walking."

I scowled as I put away the relics of our lunch. While I was still securing the straps on my saddlebag, the men around us began moving. Again, no order was sounded, but four hundred men seemed to decide simultaneously that it was a good time to get moving again. They didn't march. There was no coordination at all from one man to another. But they flowed north in something resembling a square formation, and the four of us drew curses and glares from the men who had to move around us.

"Come on, come on," Caleb growled, even as I grabbed the reins and darted forward to move with the flow. Jen and Toman fell in easily behind me, and Caleb at my side.

We went twenty paces before I shook my head and looked at Caleb. "What's so funny?"

"Hmm?"

"You laughed at me," I said, careful to sound curious instead of hurt. "For being tactical."

"Ah," he said. "That was not at you."

"Then what?"

He walked in silence for a moment. "You have never seen me at war."

"Of course I have," I said. "Back when—"

"No, you've seen me fight the dragons." He chuckled again. "The dragons. Nightmares born to scour the world of every memory of man. And they hated us like no other. I killed seventy-four of them, Taryn. Unbonded. With crossbow, with swords, with stones, or with my bare hands."

He threw that appraising look out over the ragged regiment moving ahead of us and bared his teeth. "Men are nothing."

"Well...no, not these. That's precisely what I was saying."

He smiled down at me, but his voice smoldered like white-hot coals. "And that's why I laughed. The full corps of the Green Eagles could not keep me under chain, Taryn. You should know that. If I went in force, all the king's army could not keep me from Isabelle's side."

I realized I was staring up at him. My teeth clicked together, and his smile twitched again before it faded. I turned my own appraising stare north. I remembered that moment, when the crossbowmen's officer came to confront us, and I'd seen the vast menace of the army all around. I remembered Caleb's hand on his sword.

I chewed on my thumbnail, puzzling over it. "Then why did you back down? Why do we march with Ardain foot soldiers instead of riding in Mother's carriage?"

He met my eyes for a moment. "There would be costs. It's important you understand. It is not the king's might that restrains us."

"But you said—"

He only narrowed his eyes, but it was enough to silence me. "It's our honor. Our goals. Our purposes. We submit to this king not because of the threat he poses to us, but to the things that we pursue."

For a long time I said nothing at all. Then I asked him, "Why do you tell me this now?"

"Because you keep making foolish plans. You keep trying to pick fights even though you don't realize we could win them! And, worse, you never consider that—win or lose—fighting them at all would destroy everything Isabelle cares about."

He turned his back on me and went three paces, while I still stood stunned. Then he said just loud enough for me to hear, "You are a greater threat to your mother than all the king's men."

He didn't slow; he just kept walking. But Jen and Toman had both stopped two paces ahead of me, and they stared back at me. They wore the controlled, blank expressions that Caleb had taught them so well, but I could feel the weight of their eyes on me.

He had called me down before. He and Mother had both spoken to me like this, back at the Tower. But he had never done it in front of anyone else. I felt the cold grain of fury deep in my stomach, but it smothered beneath the hot, heavy flare of shame. It seared in my neck and high on my cheeks and behind my eyes.

I dropped my gaze and knotted my fists. Souward's Seventh still flowed around me, jostling me, and eventually that constant tide of men dragged Jen and Toman away. At the edge of my vision I saw their feet shuffle awkwardly, turn back north, and finally leave. I waited another long moment, grinding my teeth and trying desperately not to repeat Caleb's words inside my head.

Then at last I risked a glance up. Caleb was almost lost in the crowd. Jen and Toman were well ahead of me with their eyes fixed on the road. I took a heavy breath and followed after them. I did not quite catch up with them. I did not speak with them. The sun burned a trail to the western horizon while we moved north, and we only stopped once between noon and sunset. At the pace the king was setting, we could perhaps make Cara in five days.

When we stopped for dinner, Caleb did not ask me to prepare our meal again. He gave that task to Toman and sent Jen off on some secret errand. She took the wine with her and left her cloak behind.