The Runaway King (3 page)

S
ince I’d had him arrested on the night I was crowned, I hadn’t seen Conner face-to-face, and I wasn’t looking forward to this reunion. Neither was he, apparently. For no matter how much I dreaded having to look at him again, at least I disguised my anxiety. Conner wasn’t even trying. He looked absolutely terrified when he saw me enter.

As it was, I had felt no sympathy when he was convicted for his crimes. After the trial he had been granted his request to be held separately from the other castle prisoners. Now, he remained in isolation in a locked tower room where I was told he spent most of his time looking out over the land through a small and filthy window.

Conner had a chain around his ankle and was thinner than when I last saw him, although I’d made sure he was fed and allowed the basics of hygiene. Yet his beard was ragged, and in the dim light of flickering torches, I was sure I could see gray hairs. I’d never noticed them when we were at Farthenwood.

Conner gave me a slight bow. “King Jaron. I’d ask if you are well, but frankly, I’ve seen you look better. And drier, for that matter.”

“I’m perfectly well, thanks for asking.”

“To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

“It smells like a sewer in here so I’ll be brief.” Looking directly at him, I said, “Was King Vargan ever part of the plot to kill me four years ago?”

The fear melted away, leaving a wide sneer on his face. “No. The pirates didn’t want Avenia involved. They don’t like working with Vargan unless they have to, and they figured Avenia wouldn’t want a part of my plan anyway.”

Avenia was certainly involved now. According to Vargan, it suited their mutual purposes.

“Tell me again about the night you killed my family.”

With a weary sigh he said, “There’s nothing more than what I’ve confessed to a thousand times.”

“I’ve been reading about the dervanis oil. Did you know it takes over a hundred flowers to produce just one drop of the poison? That’s why it’s so rare, and so hard to acquire. I don’t think you got it here on your own.”

Gregor put a hand on his sword. “Jaron —”

I brushed him aside. “Where did you get it?”

Conner laughed, his arrogance on full display. “If you don’t ask the right questions, then coming here is only wasting my time and yours.”

“Do not insult the king!” Gregor said.

This time he drew his sword, but I motioned for him to put it away. Conner hadn’t intended to be insulting. He wanted a different question from me. But I didn’t know what.

Distracted, I used my boot to tap an empty plate on the floor with a napkin folded over it. “Where did this come from?”

Conner smiled. “The betrothed princess said you missed a meal with her this evening. So she brought me your portion.”

Amarinda had been here? I tried to look as if that didn’t bother me, but he knew it did. She’d have no reason to come here, unless . . . Suddenly, I didn’t want to be here anymore.

Gregor stepped forward. “She didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Don’t defend her actions!” I ordered. Of all her friendships, this one was unacceptable.

Silently, Gregor dipped his head and retreated against the wall, though his hand never left his sword.

I turned back to Conner, who was now standing tall with his arms folded, a quiet challenge to my authority. It hadn’t even been a month ago when I’d faced him with a similar look of defiance.

He said, “It’s about time you came to thank me.”

“
Thank
you?” He was lucky my thanks didn’t come in the form of a noose.

“You are king now, just as I promised,” he said. “Maybe you hate the things I did that got you here, but the fact is you would not be king without me.”

Something exploded inside of me. It was all I could do to hold my temper. When I finally spoke, my words reeked of bitterness. “After what you’ve done, you really expect my gratitude?”

“All of Carthya should be grateful to me!” Conner arched his head. “Your father was weak. Eventually, the countries that surround us would have swallowed Carthya whole. Darius was a risk as well. He was too close to your father to see him for who he was.”

“They were my family!”

“Your family rejected you. Not just once but twice. They made you a nobody, then gave you to the world. But I have given the world back to you. I made you king.”

Still angry, I cocked my head. “Now I have everything. Is that what you think?”

“With one exception.” Conner nodded at the empty plate Amarinda had brought.

I stared again at the dish on the floor. Did she really think I wouldn’t mind her coming here? Of anyone in this castle, she was supposed to be on my side. Conner was absolutely correct in his insinuation that Amarinda and I were not friends. Nor did I have any idea of how to fix things with her, if that was even possible.

Conner lowered his voice and continued, “I’ve paid for my crimes against you. Let me go free and I will serve you now.”

I grinned, feeling my edge again. “You might reconsider those terms. I just got a visit from the pirates. They want you.”

Conner gave me exactly the look of fear I’d expected. His eyes widened and something roughly the size of a boulder seemed to be lodged in his throat. “Don’t let them have me, Jaron. You know what they’d do.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’d hurt,” I said coldly. “Maybe I will release you after all.”

I started to leave, then in a panic, Conner called, “Jaron!” Without waiting for my attention, he added, “I betrayed your family, that’s true, but I never betrayed Carthya. I still consider myself a patriot.”

I turned back to him. “How can that be? Do you have any idea what you started when you hired the pirates?”

Conner pressed his lips together, then nodded at my bandaged arm. “Oh. They want you, too.” The long lines of his face softened. “So it’s both our lives at stake.”

“All of Carthya is at stake,” I said. “You opened floodgates I might not be able to shut again.” Now I turned and stepped closer to him, so close that I could see the dilation of his pupils as he returned my stare. “I need the name of the pirate you hired to kill me. Tell me now, or you will go to them tonight.”

Defeated, Conner whispered, “His name was Devlin. He bragged that your death would give him a place of honor with the pirates. The fact that you’re alive will be humiliating to him.”

“And to you, too, I suppose.”

Conner wasn’t fazed. “The truth is that nobody cares about your life but me! I’m the only one here who’s worked with the pirates. You need me.”

I shook my head. “Carthya needs you the way we need the plague.”

His tone turned nasty. “And you think you’re more wanted by your people? Do you really believe anyone wants to fight for a boy who has caused them nothing but trouble? Did anyone want you back? No, Jaron, you are alone here.”

His words stung as if he’d slapped me. Conner must have sensed the emotion building inside me and chose to strike again.

“I remember your father’s announcement four years ago, that he couldn’t go to war because there was no proof of what had happened to you. It was a lie, of course, and no king wants to lie to his people. Wouldn’t things have been easier if you had died? Don’t you think in a way that your father wished you had?”

My knife was already in my hand. I lunged at him, my hands shaking with so much anger that the knife scratched his throat. “You destroyed everything!” I yelled.

Conner arched his head to gather a breath. “And I’m the only one who can save you now. The regents won’t help you. Think of how convenient it’d be for them if the pirates got to you.”

Unfortunately, he was right about that. From their perspective, my death would solve a lot of problems.

“Your people won’t help either,” he continued. “Listen to them. They’re laughing at you.”

Fixed on his eyes, I said, “Do you laugh at me?”

He was quiet for a moment and finally the tension drained from him. “No, Jaron,” he said darkly. “I curse you with every breath I exhale. But I do not laugh.”

Gregor had remained behind us, and it occurred to me that he wouldn’t object if I used my knife now. He’d never approved of my decision to imprison Conner rather than execute him. But then, he hadn’t agreed with most of my decisions so far. I released Conner, who fell to his knees, his hand massaging his throat.

I drew in some air until I’d calmed down, then said to him, “Where did you get the dervanis oil?”

“From the pirate Devlin,” Conner mumbled. “But knowing that won’t help you now. Only I can fix this. Let me help you save Carthya. Forgive me, my king, here and now.”

I clicked my tongue, then said, “I’ll forgive you once I get my family back. Good-bye, Conner.” He was still yelling my name as the dungeon door closed. Gregor silently followed me down the steps of the tower. I continued forward while he reinstated the vigil.

My hands were shaking as I entered the main passageway. Conner had unnerved me in a way I could never have expected. Even in chains, he knew my vulnerabilities.

Once Gregor had caught up with me, he asked if I was all right, but I gave him no answer. Then he said, “Conner denied any connection between Vargan and the pirates. Perhaps you are wrong.”

“I’m not. Tell me what I’m missing. Conner said I wasn’t asking the right questions.”

“He’s a manipulator, toying with your weaknesses. He’s not to be trusted.”

I stopped walking so that I could look at him. “Do you trust me, Gregor?”

“Should I?” He shifted his weight while he reconsidered his boldness. In a humbler tone, he continued, “After everything tonight, you must be exhausted. Get some rest, and know that I’m here to protect you.”

“As you protected me tonight?” I took a breath, then added, “Tell me this. If the pirates attack us, does Carthya have any chance of winning?”

His eyes widened. “You’re not suggesting —”

“I need to know.”

“Our numbers are greater,” he said. “But it would be like fighting a bear. Carthya may come out of it alive, but with terrible wounds. And once wounded, we’d be easy prey if Avenia chose to invade.”

Just as I had thought. “We’d survive only long enough to be destroyed,” I mumbled. Then I added, “What if we attacked the pirates first?”

Gregor shook his head. “The pirates are hidden inside Avenia. To get at them we’d have to attack all of Avenia. With both enemies against us, Carthya would be destroyed in a matter of weeks. Whatever aggression the pirates showed against you tonight, war cannot be an option.”

I hated the thought of war. Yet even more, I despised the fact that we were so unprepared to defend ourselves. Ever fearful of war, my father had treated his soldiers as parade decorations rather than as warriors. My mother had always understood the threats against us, but obviously even she couldn’t overcome his fear of battle. Worse than anything was the realization that had my father lived, he and I would never have come to a mutual understanding. We would always have found some way to disappoint each other.

I thanked Gregor, then told him I’d see my own way to my rooms and meet him again in the morning.

I walked away only until I found a quiet corner where I could back against the cool wall and breathe. Conner may have been right about one thing: I had never been more alone, and my situation never more desperate. Every minute of the night had pushed me another step closer to my death, and my options were narrowing. It was becoming clear what had to be done, but I was certain there was no hope that I could do it. One way or another, I would have to face the pirates.

M
ott and Tobias were waiting at the doors to my chambers when I arrived there, and bowed when they saw me. I didn’t mind too much when staff at the castle bowed, but it was still uncomfortable for me when they did it.

Tobias was the last of the orphans Conner had taken. Mott was Conner’s former servant, and both he and Tobias had caused me no end of misery while at Farthenwood. Considering the odds against us there, it was an amazing thing now to call them both my friends. Over the past month, I had sent them throughout Carthya to find Roden. Now I realized what a foolish errand that had been.

Tobias was taller than I, had darker hair, and until my recent loss of appetite, he had been thinner too. Mott stood at least a head taller than Tobias. He was almost entirely bald, dark-skinned, and made of little else but muscle and disapproving frowns.

Mott’s eyes went immediately to my bandaged arm, and his brows pressed together in concern. “You’re wounded,” he said.

“Never mind that,” I said. “When did you get back?”

“Just now.” Mott’s gaze remained fixed on my arm. “The funeral for your family was ending as we arrived. Obviously, that’s not where you were.”

“They didn’t need me there. Everyone was mourning their own loss of power far too much to bother with grieving.” I turned to Tobias and noted the dark circles beneath his eyes. “You look exhausted. Haven’t you slept?”

“Not really.”

“Get some rest,” I said. “Mott can fill me in for now and we’ll talk more tomorrow.” I prodded him forward. “Go, Tobias.”

He bowed again. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“I’m Jaron. You know me too well for anything else.”

“Thank you . . . Jaron.” Tobias excused himself and hurried off.

Mott frowned at me. “You shouldn’t scold him when he was only using your proper title.”

“If it is my proper title, then you shouldn’t scold me at all,” I said sharply.

“They warned me you were in a terrible mood, but I underestimated it.”

“A mood to match this day,” I said.

Both his tone and his face softened. “What’s happened?”

The servant who held my door open adopted the notable traits of a statue when my eyes passed over him, though he was clearly absorbing every syllable we uttered. I paused in the entrance and said to Mott, “Let’s talk where there are fewer ears to gather gossip.”

Mott followed me into the chamber. My nightshirt and robe were laid out in case I was ready for them. A part of me wished to crawl between the plush quilts of my bed and try to sleep off this horrid night. The other part wondered how I’d ever sleep again.

No sooner had the doors shut before Mott tore away the rest of my cut sleeve, then reached for the bandage on my arm. “Who did this?”

“It seems I have even fewer friends than I thought.”

Mott harrumphed while he finished untying the bandage and studied the cut. “This needs some alcohol.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“It’s bad enough. Fortunately, this isn’t your sword arm.”

“They’re both my sword arms.” I naturally preferred my left hand, but my father had forced me to train with my right. As a child, that had frustrated me, but the ability to fight with either hand had become a valuable skill as I grew older. “How is that relevant?”

“Because I’ve heard that the king spends every minute he can spare in the courtyard practicing with a sword. Why is that?”

“The girls enjoy watching me.” Mott scoffed, so I added, “It’s simple. I’ve been out of practice for the last four years. That’s all.”

“Except that nothing is ever simple with you.”

“Ow!” I yanked my arm away as he touched a sensitive area of the wound. “Whatever you’re doing, stop it!”

“I’m cleaning it. Next time you’re cut, try not to get dirt in it.”

“Next time I’ll get help from someone who doesn’t treat a wound like he’s scrubbing a chimney.”

Clearly annoyed, Mott said, “You should thank me for tolerating you. I had hoped that becoming a royal would cure your foul manners.”

“That’s interesting. My father had hoped that stripping me of royalty would do the same thing.” Then, more gently, I said, “Now tell me the news from your trip.”

He shrugged. “We traced Roden as far as Avenia soon after you were crowned. We think he’s back in Carthya now, but can’t be sure of that.”

I could be sure. Nodding at my arm, I said, “Roden just gave me that.”

“He was here?” Mott furrowed his thick eyebrows together. “Are you all right?”

“I already told you, the cut isn’t so bad.”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I asked. Jaron, are
you
all right?”

Such an easy question for an answer that turned my stomach to knots and choked off my air. Quietly I said, “It feels like a lifetime since this day began. And every time I think nothing more can go wrong, it does.”

“You got through Farthenwood. You’ll get past this too.”

I grunted at that, then said, “As horrible as it was, Farthenwood was a test of endurance. I always knew that I’d beat Conner, if only I could outlast him.” I looked at Mott. “But I can’t see the end of what must be done now. Or, I don’t want to.”

Silence fell while Mott continued to work on my arm. As he began wrapping it with a bandage, he asked, “Why did you send us off to find Roden? Why not just let him go?”

“Because I thought . . . we’d once been friends. It was Cregan who turned us against each other. I believed that.”

“And now?”

“It seems I was wrong. Everything we went through . . . none of it mattered. All I saw in his eyes tonight was hatred.”

As Mott finished tying off the new bandage, he said, “I’m worried about you.”

“Good. I didn’t want to be the only one.” I drew in a slow breath, then added, “If my only choice is between the unacceptable or the impossible, which should I do?”

“Which choice means you will live?” Mott asked.

We were interrupted by a knock at the door, and I was grateful for the distraction. He wouldn’t have liked my answer. Mott went to the door, then turned to me. “Lord Kerwyn asks to see you.”

I nodded, and when Kerwyn entered the room, Mott made an excuse about finding more alcohol and left. I thought he looked a little exasperated when he glanced back, but people often did when they talked with me so it was hardly worth noting.

Kerwyn bowed before he approached, then said, “Jaron, your arm.”

“I know.”

“Gregor told me you were attacked. Praise the saints that it’s no worse.”

“It’ll get worse before this is over.” And I couldn’t think of any reason the saints would have an interest in me.

The creases in Kerwyn’s face deepened. I wondered how many of his wrinkles had been caused by me. More than my share, I suspected.

I said, “Will you call a meeting with the regents tomorrow morning? Gregor won’t support my position, so I’ll talk with them directly.”

Kerwyn frowned. “Actually, that’s one of the reasons I came. Gregor has just assembled the regents together. They’re meeting right now.”

“Without the king?” I muttered a string of curses, inventing a few new ones in the process. Then I stood and began unwrapping my damp tabard so that I could change clothes. The ache in my arm brought a grimace to my face, and Kerwyn stood to assist me.

“The regents will have to act now,” Kerwyn said. “While on the throne you’re a target.”

“As long as I’m Jaron I’ll be a target.” Then, in a stronger voice, I added, “Help me get dressed, Kerwyn. I have to be at that meeting.”