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Authors: Jennifer A. Nielsen

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BOOK: The False Prince
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I
awoke with my hands tied behind my back, and lying in the bed of a wagon. A throbbing headache pulsed inside me, worsened by the jostling of the wagon as we rode. The least Conner could have done was give me something soft to lie on.

I resisted the temptation to open my eyes until my situation became clearer. My wrists were tied behind my back with a coarse rope, one that might be used to lead a horse. If it was, then I wondered if the rope was a last-minute idea. Maybe Conner hadn’t expected to be taking me by force.

Conner should have come more prepared. This thick rope worked to my advantage. It was easier to loosen the knots.

Someone coughed near me. Didn’t sound like Conner. Maybe it was one of his thug vigils.

As slowly as possible, I inched one eye open. The cool spring day had become a bit overcast but wasn’t yet threatening rain. Too bad. I could’ve used a bath.

One of Conner’s vigils was at the far end of the wagon, looking at the view behind us. That probably meant Conner and the other vigil were on the seat at the front of the wagon.

Another cough, to my left. I let my head bounce with the next jolt of the wagon to see where it had come from.

Two boys sat there. The shorter one closest to me seemed to be doing the coughing. Both were near my age. The coughing boy looked sickly and pale, while the other was larger and tanned. They each had light brown hair, though the coughing boy’s hair was nearer to blond. He had rounder features as well. I suspected wherever he came from, he’d spent more time sick in bed than at work. And just the opposite for the other boy.

I judged myself to be a blend of the two. Nothing about me was remarkable. I was only of medium height, one of many ways I disappointed my father, who had felt that it would hinder my success (I disagreed — tall people fit in fewer hiding places). My hair was badly in need of cutting, tangled, and dark blond but getting lighter with each passing month. And I had a forgettable face, which, again, worked in my favor.

The boy coughed again and I opened both eyes to determine if he was sick or had something to say and was clearing his throat to get our attention.

Only he caught me looking at him. Our eyes focused so solidly on each other that it was pointless to pretend I was still asleep, at least to him. Would he give up my secret? I hoped not. I needed time to think, and time for some unfortunately placed bruises to heal.

Time was not on my side.

“He’s awake!” That was the larger boy, who got the attention of Conner’s backseat vigil.

The vigil crawled across the wagon to slap my cheek, which wasn’t necessary because my eyes were mostly open. I swore at him, then winced as he yanked me into a sitting position.

“Not too rough,” Conner called from his seat. “He’s a guest, Cregan.”

The vigil now known as Cregan glared at me. I didn’t say anything else, figuring the phrase I’d just used to curse at him had satisfactorily explained my wishes for the cause of his death.

“You’ve met Cregan,” Conner said, then added, “Mott is our driver.”

Mott glanced back to nod a hello at me. He and Cregan couldn’t have been designed to look more different from each other. Mott was tall, dark-skinned, and nearly bald. What little hair he did have was black and shaved to his scalp. He was the one by the tavern who’d tripped me when I was trying to escape the butcher. In contrast, Cregan was short — not much taller than I was, and shorter than the tanned boy near me. He was surprisingly pale for a man who likely spent much of his day outdoors, and he had a thick crop of blond hair that he tied back at the nape of his neck. Mott was lean and muscular while Cregan looked softer than I knew him to be, judging by the way he’d clubbed me at the orphanage.

How strange that there could be two people so different from each other and yet my dislike for them was equally fierce.

Conner motioned to the boys in the wagon with me. “That’s Latamer and Roden.”

Latamer was the cougher. Roden had ratted me out for being awake. They nodded at me, then Latamer shrugged, as if to say he had no more of an idea why we were here than I did.

“I’m hungry,” I said. “I’d planned on having roast for dinner, so whatever you’ve got had better be good.”

Conner laughed and tossed an apple onto my lap, which sat there because my hands were still tied behind me.

Roden reached over, snatched the apple, and took a big bite of it. “One of the rewards for not having fought coming along. I’m not tied up like a prisoner.”

“That was mine,” I said.

“The apple was for anyone willing to take it,” Conner said.

There was silence for another moment, except for the sound of Roden eating. I stared icily at him, though I knew it’d do no good. If he came from an orphanage as I did, he knew the rules of survival. Rule number one said you took food whenever it was available, as much as you could get.

“Neither of you fought Conner?” I asked Latamer and Roden.

Latamer shook his head and coughed. He probably didn’t have the strength to fight. Roden leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his legs. “I saw the orphanage you came from. It was ten times the place I lived in. Then Conner comes and says if I cooperate, I could get a big reward. So no, I didn’t fight.”

“You might have given me that nice speech instead of having me hit over the head,” I told Conner. “What’s the reward?”

Conner didn’t turn around to answer. “Cooperate first, then we’ll talk reward.”

Roden tossed his apple core from the cart. He didn’t even have the decency to eat all of it.

“You can untie me now,” I said. It probably wasn’t going to be that easy, but there was no harm in asking.

Conner answered. “Mrs. Turbeldy warned me that you have a history of running away. Where do you go?”

“To church, of course. To confess my sins.”

Roden snorted a laugh, but Conner didn’t seem to find the same humor. “I can starve that blasphemy out of you, boy.”

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, hoping to end any conversation involving me. For the most part, it worked. Roden said something about his devotion to the church, but I let it go. None of it mattered. I didn’t plan on being here much longer.

About an hour later, the wagon stopped in a small town I’d been to once before. It was named Gelvins, although as small as it was, I’m not sure it deserved any name. Gelvins was more like an outpost than a town, with only a few shops on the street and a dozen pathetic excuses for homes. Carthyan homes were normally well built and sturdy, but Gelvins was poor and its farms dry. A sturdy home was a luxury few here could dream of, much less afford to build. Most of these thin wooden structures looked like they would be finished in a stiff windstorm. Our wagon had stopped in front of a shack with a small sign over the doorway identifying it as the Gelvins Charity Orphanage. I knew this place. I’d stayed here several months ago after Mrs. Turbeldy temporarily kicked me out.

Conner took Mott with him and left Cregan to guard us. As soon as Conner left, Cregan jumped out of the wagon and said he was going to get a quick drink in the tavern and that he’d personally kill any boy who tried to escape.

“Another orphan?” Roden asked. “Conner’s probably been to every orphanage in the country. What could he possibly want with all of us?”

“You don’t know?” I asked.

Latamer shrugged, but Roden said, “He’s looking for one particular boy, but I don’t know why.”

“He won’t want me.” Latamer’s voice was so quiet, the snorting of our horses nearly drowned him out. “I’m sick.”

“Maybe he will,” I said. “We don’t know what he wants.”

“I plan on being whatever he wants,” Roden said. “I’m not going back to any orphanage, and I’ve got no future on the streets.”

“Who is Bevin Conner?” I asked. “Do either of you know anything about him?”

“I overheard him speaking to Master Grippings, who runs the orphanage where Roden and I lived,” Latamer mumbled. “He said he was a friend of the king’s court.”

“King Eckbert?” I shook my head. “Conner’s lying, then. Everyone knows the king has no friends.”

Latamer shrugged. “Friend or enemy, he convinced Master Grippings that he was here as a service to the king.”

“But what does that have to do with us?” I asked. “A handful of orphaned boys?”

“He just wants one boy,” Roden reminded us. “The rest of us will be cast away as soon as we become useless to Conner. He said as much to Master Grippings.”

“Let me make it easier on you,” I said to Roden. “Untie me and I’ll be on my way. That’s one less boy to contend with.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Roden said. “Do you think I want to be punished for your escape?”

“Fine. But the knots are really tight. Could you just loosen them?”

Roden shook his head. “If they’re tight, it’s because you irritated Conner’s vigils, and you probably deserve it.”

“Conner wouldn’t want him to be hurt.” Latamer crept toward me and said, “Turn around.”

“I can’t maneuver with my arms behind me. Just reach back there.”

Latamer stretched an arm across my back, which I caught with my hand and twisted behind him. Roden jumped up to one knee, startled, but with my other hand I slipped a noose over Latamer’s neck and pulled it so that it was nearly tightened. Roden froze, waiting to see what I’d do next.

Getting the rope off my wrists had been an easy matter. Knotting it into a noose was a bit trickier, although now was not the time to admire my handiwork. Roden didn’t look impressed with my behind-the-back knot tying. Clearly, he’d never attempted something like that before, or he would have been. Or maybe he just didn’t want me to strangle Latamer in front of him.

“Not an inch closer to me,” I warned Roden. “Or else I’ll dump him over the side of the cart and you can describe to Conner the sound of his snapping neck.”

“Please don’t do that,” Latamer breathed.

Roden sat back down. “I don’t care if you kill him and I don’t care if you run away. Leave if you want, and pray Conner’s vigils don’t find you.”

I stood, apologized to Latamer for threatening to kill him, then gave a ceremonial bow to Roden. The bow might’ve been a mistake. Midway through standing up straight, Cregan whacked me in the back with the flat end of his sword. I fell forward, all air knocked from my lungs.

“You know what’d happen to me if I let you get away, boy?” Cregan snarled.

I knew, and I wasn’t entirely opposed to it.

“You said you’d kill anyone who tried to escape,” Roden reminded him.

“And so I will,” Cregan said, baring his teeth when I turned to look at him. He’d replaced his sword with a knife and leapt into the wagon in two steps. I rolled over to make a run for it, but he grabbed my shirt, shoved me back down, and pressed the knife to my throat. “Master Conner doesn’t need all of you. And I think he needs you least of all.”

Suddenly, I had a motivation to be needed by Master Conner. “Okay,” I grumbled. “You win. I’ll cooperate.”

“You’re lying,” Cregan said.

“I often lie. But not about this. I’ll cooperate.”

Cregan smiled, pleased to have humiliated me. He replaced his knife in the sheath at his waist, then yanked me up by my collar and tossed me into the corner of the wagon. “We’ll see.”

A minute later, Conner returned to the wagon with Mott and a boy walking beside him. I squinted, certain I recognized him. He was tall and unusually thin. His hair was darker than both mine and Roden’s, but his was stringy and straight and more in need of a trim than mine, if that was possible.

The boy climbed dutifully into the back of the wagon. Conner glanced at my untied hands and then at the thin vein of blood trickling down my neck. He eyed Cregan. “Any trouble?”

“None, sir,” Cregan responded. “Only I believe you’ll find Sage to be more cooperative now.”

Conner smiled as if that was all he needed to know of the matter. “I’m glad to hear it. Boys, meet Tobias. He’ll be joining us in our quest.”

“What quest?” I asked.

Conner shook his head. “Patience, Sage. Patience is the mark of a ruler.”

And that was my first clue about why Conner had taken us. We were all in terrible danger.

I
knew Tobias. He might not have known me because I’d come and gone from Gelvins Charity Orphanage so quickly. But in my short stay, Tobias had stood out amongst the others. He was no ordinary orphan. He’d been educated as a child and continued to read anything he could get his hands on. He was given special privileges at the orphanage because it was felt he was one of the few with any hopes of one day making a success of his life.

Tobias glanced my way. “You’re bleeding.”

I brushed at the cut mark on my neck. “It’s mostly stopped.”

That was as much concern as he wished to invest. “Do I know you?”

“I stayed here about six months ago.”

“Yeah, I remember. Locked the headmaster out of the orphanage for an entire night, didn’t you?”

The grin on my face became my confession. “You have to admit, we ate well that night. For once.”

“It’s not funny,” Tobias scolded. “Maybe we don’t eat well most of the time, but it’s because there’s not a lot of food to go around. You gave out a week’s worth of food that night. It was a very long, very hungry week after you left.”

My grin faded. I hadn’t known that.

We rode for over an hour through a lonely plain covered in gorse and nettle. Tobias remarked that he found it beautiful in a desolate sort of way. I saw the desolation, but the beauty escaped me. Eventually, it became dark enough that Mott suggested we find a place to stop for the night. The closest town was still Gelvins behind us rather than anything yet ahead, so I didn’t think it should matter too much where we camped. But Mott still took us a ways farther until the vegetation changed and he found a small clearing surrounded by tall willow trees and thick bushes.

“They’re hiding us,” I muttered to the other boys.

Roden shook his head back at me and said, “It’s safer here than out in the open. They’re protecting us.”

Mott jumped off the wagon and began shouting orders at each of us for what to unload from the wagon and where to put it, mostly blankets and, I hoped, food. I was assigned to remain in the wagon and hand things to the others on the ground.

“Afraid I’ll run away?” I asked.

“Any trust you get here will have to be earned,” Mott said. “And I’d say you have a great deal more to earn than the others.” He nodded at a sack near my foot. “Hand me that.”

Although Conner was the master of our group, Mott was clearly the one keeping our show running. He was no ordinary, useless vigil. At least, I noticed that he didn’t need to ask Conner’s permission for everything, and when Mott issued orders to Cregan, Cregan did as he was told. While we worked, Conner stationed himself on a fallen log to peruse a tattered leather-bound book. Every now and then he’d glance up, studying each of us with more than a casual examination, then return to his book.

Cregan got a fire going, and afterward, Mott instructed us to gather around so that Conner could talk to us.


Talk
to us?” I said. “When do we eat?”

“We eat after the talk,” Conner said, closing his book and standing. “Come, boys, sit.”

I jumped out of the wagon and squeezed onto the edge of a log Roden and Tobias had dragged near the fire. They weren’t too pleased to have me there but didn’t complain either. Latamer squatted on the ground. I considered offering him my seat, since he was still coughing, but I guessed he wouldn’t take it anyway.

Conner coughed too, although his was the kind meant to get our attention. The cough wasn’t necessary. We were already watching him.

“I haven’t said much as to why I’ve collected you boys,” Conner began. “I’m sure in your heads you’ve created every sort of speculation, from the likely and plausible to the wild and impossible. What I have in mind is closer to the latter of those.”

Tobias sat up straighter. I already disliked him as much as Roden, even though there had been far more time for me to learn to dislike Roden.

“I can’t deny there’s danger with my plan,” Conner said. “If we fail, there will be terrible consequences. But if we succeed, the rewards are beyond your imagination.”

I wasn’t sure about that. I could imagine some fairly big rewards.

“In the end, only one of you can be chosen. I need the boy who proves himself to be the closest fit with my plan. And my plan is very demanding and very specific.”

Tobias raised his hand. A sign that he’d been educated. At the orphanage I came from, a person only raised a hand if he was about to hit someone with it. “Sir, what is your plan?”

“Excellent question, Tobias, but it’s also a very secret plan. So what I’d like to do first is offer any of you the chance to leave now. You may leave with no feelings of regret or cowardice. I’ve been very up-front about both the danger and the rewards. If you don’t feel that this is for you, then this is your opportunity to leave.”

Roden looked at me. I arched my eyebrows in response. He wanted me to leave, that was clear. And I would have stood right then, except for a nagging voice in my head that told me something was wrong. So I kept still.

Latamer raised his hand. Not because he’d been trained to, but because it had worked for Tobias. “Sir, I think I’d like to leave. I’m not fit to compete with these other boys, and frankly, I’m not one to face danger, even for great rewards.” Apparently, the nagging voice hadn’t visited Latamer’s head.

“Certainly you may leave.” Conner politely raised a hand toward the wagon. “Why don’t you get back in there and I’ll have Cregan drive you to the nearest town.”

“Tonight?”

“The rest of us have more to discuss tonight, so yes, go right now.”

Latamer gave an apologetic smile to us and thanked Conner for understanding. I nodded a good-bye to him, and wondered, like I’m sure Roden and Tobias did, if it’d be smart to make the same choice. Conner hadn’t said what would happen to the boys he didn’t pick for his plan. Nor just how dangerous things might get.

Then I realized what my instincts had been trying to tell me. Mott was ahead of us, motioning Latamer toward the wagon. Where was Cregan?

I stood and yelled, “Latamer, stop!” But my warning only gave Latamer time to turn from climbing into the wagon. His eyes widened as he saw what I had sensed. An arrow whooshed past me and pierced his chest. Latamer yelped like a wounded dog and fell backward on the ground, dead.

With a furious cry, I leapt toward Cregan, who was still partially hidden in the shadows behind us, and tackled him to the ground. Cregan went for the knife at his waist, but one hand still held the bow he’d used to kill Latamer, so I got the knife first. With my body crossways over Cregan’s, I started to crawl off him, but Mott lunged at me from behind and I collapsed facedown into the dirt. Cregan took a deep breath, then sat up and easily wrested the knife from my hand. That was probably a good thing. I don’t know what I would’ve done with it if Mott hadn’t stopped me.

“You killed him,” I growled, getting a taste of dirt into my mouth.

Conner knelt beside me and lowered himself so that I could see his face. His voice was eerily calm. “Latamer was sick, Sage. He wasn’t going to get better, and I think he proved a good lesson for the rest of you. Now you can get up and rejoin the other boys, or you can take a wagon ride with Latamer. It’s your choice.”

I thrust my jaw forward and glared at Conner, then finally said, “I suppose Latamer won’t be much company now. I’ll stay here.”

“Excellent decision.” Conner clapped a hand on my back as if we were old friends. He nodded at Mott, who let me go, then added, “I’m sure Latamer’s death is a shock to you, but it was important for you three to understand the seriousness of what we are doing.”

When I sat up, Cregan’s leg brushed roughly past me as he went to help lift Latamer’s body into the wagon. Normally, I’d have kicked him in return, but for the moment I was too stunned to think.

“Bury him deep,” Conner said.

Still on the log, Tobias was pale and perfectly still. Roden looked as if he was having trouble breathing. My breathing wasn’t working any better. It didn’t help that Mott had rudely pressed his knee into my back for the last couple of minutes.

Conner’s smile was a thin line on his face. “Sage, I believe your question earlier was why we had the meeting before we ate. This is why. So we wouldn’t waste our food.” His eyes passed over to Roden and Tobias. “How about it, then? Does anybody else want to leave?”

BOOK: The False Prince
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