Treason Keep (31 page)

Since befriending Dace, Mikel rarely spent a full day among the horses. Whenever Dace appeared, Sergeant Monthay would suddenly turn to Mikel and dismiss him, along with the warning that he didn’t expect to see him again until dinnertime. Mikel had no idea why Dace had that effect on the Medalonian and finally decided to stop questioning his good fortune. Perhaps it was the Overlord’s way of sparing him a life of forced labour.

Sometimes, Kali would join her brother on their daily jaunts. Every time he saw the barefooted little girl, she would stare at him closely and demand, ‘Do you love me?”

Mikel thought it the strangest question, and it seemed to annoy Dace too, but he had begun answering yes, simply because Kali would sulk if he answered any other way. An answer in the affirmative left her beaming for the rest of the day. She would hold his hand, and smile at him a lot, and not say blasphemous things about the Overlord, which Mikel found something of a relief.

Dace pouted a lot when Kali was with them, and he argued with her all the time. But he seemed incapable of refusing her anything. If Kali had been
his
sister, Mikel thought, he would have ordered her to stay at home and expected her to comply. These Medalonians really did lack the proper understanding of the place of a female.

When Dace and Mikel were alone, they spent hours exploring the Medalonian camp. They were never challenged by the Defenders, never asked what they were doing, never in trouble. The followers’ camp was even more interesting. Dace had a knack for smiling at people so charmingly that they never thought to question his right to be there. Mikel had no success trying to emulate his companion’s winning smile. The one time he had tried it on a Defender, hoping to sneak into the Keep to find out how the princess was faring, the Defenders on guard had sent him packing with a blistering reprimand.

Of course, one had to be on their guard around Dace. He was always trying to coax Mikel into stealing things. He didn’t seem to care what Mikel stole, just that he stole
something
. Its value was irrelevant, it was the act that mattered. But Mikel had been true to his faith and had not fallen to the dangerous charms of his new friend. If anything, he felt he was a positive influence on the young thief and was certain that he had saved the youth from sinning on more than one occasion.

Today however, Dace had finally suggested they steal something that even Mikel couldn’t resist.

There was, according to Dace, a blue swallow’s nest in the tower of the old keep. The mother
swallow must have gotten her seasons mixed up because it was almost winter, and the chicks would die if they hatched at this time of year. Dace’s noble plan was to steal the eggs from the nest and take them somewhere warmer, where they could incubate safely. Once hatched, they could dig up worms for the chicks and nurse them through the bitter weather. By spring, they would be ready to make it on their own and the boys could release them.

Try as he might, Mikel could find no fault with Dace’s plan. Saving the chicks from a freezing death was a good deed, and brave too, when one considered where the nest was located. Although Dace insisted on calling their rescue mission “stealing” he joined in the escapade willingly. His enthusiasm pleased the young thief enormously. He acted almost as happy as his sister Kali, the first time that he had agreed he really did love her.

Strange people, these Medalonians.

“How are we going to get into the Keep?” Mikel demanded as he hurried alongside Dace toward the old fort. Dace had been disturbingly vague on that point. The ground was slushy underfoot from a light snowfall the night before which had turned to mud almost as soon as the sun touched it. Mikel hated this Medalonian weather. He fervently wished it would snow properly, like it did in Yarnarrow or Kirkland, not this half-hearted mucky stuff that fell from the skies every few days with no other purpose than to make everything muddy and damp.

“They change the guard just before sundown,” Dace explained. “We’ll sneak in then.”

Mikel had not been inside Treason Keep since the day he had been interrogated by Tarja and Lord Wolfblade. He tried hard not to think of that day. The memories still hurt too much for him to be able to recall them willingly. Even the Keep’s unofficial name seemed to taunt him.

“But aren’t there guards on the tower?”

“Lord Jenga says it’s too dangerous up there and not worth repairing. The guards stay on the wall-walk. Once we get inside, we’ll be fine.” Mikel could hardly question such a confident assurance, so he trudged alongside the thief and prayed to the Overlord that Dace was right. “Besides,” Dace added cheerily, “It’s Founder’s Day. Lord Jenga declared a holiday. There won’t be many guards on duty.”

“What’s Founder’s Day?”

“It’s when the Medalonians celebrate the day they stole Medalon from the Harshini.” Dace suddenly stopped walking and grinned at Mikel. “Now that was an interesting time, let me tell you! The others were steaming mad. Of course, a theft on that scale made me stronger than Zegarnald for a time, but then the Sisterhood launched their purge and the fighting started and I went back to being just plain old me. It was fun for a while, though.”

“Dace, what are you talking about?”

The thief shrugged. “Nothing. Come on, we’d better hurry. It’s almost sundown and we won’t be able see the nest in the dark.”

Shaking his head, Mikel hurried after Dace. The boy had a habit of wandering off like that. It was very disconcerting.

As Dace predicted, they were not challenged as they
passed through the gate into the Keep. The Defenders barely even glanced at them. Mikel followed as he walked boldly across the muddy yard to the dangerously crumbling steps that led to the tower. As they carefully climbed the broken stairs, Mikel understood why Lord Jenga had condemned the tower. The masonry wobbled under even his slight weight.

The sun appeared to be resting on the steep peaks of the Sanctuary Mountains as they reached the top of the tower. It was a blocky, square structure but the merlons had crumbled and in one corner there was nothing but a pile of fallen rubble, almost as tall as Mikel. It was to the pile that Dace led him, squeezing in through the narrow opening between the rubble and the wall. It smelled musty in the tiny cave formed by the ruined masonry, but the mother swallow had picked her location well. The nest was protected from the wind and from the eye of any roving hawk looking for an easy meal.

“See! Five eggs!” Dace declared.

“I can’t see a thing!” he complained. It was so dark inside the little cavern he could only make out Dace from his glittering eyes.

“Look, it’s over…”

“Sshhh!” Mikel froze as the sound of footsteps reached him. He turned slightly, so he could see outside.

It was Princess Adrina. He bit back a cry of surprise as a man joined her on the tower. The Hythrun Warlord’s profile was sharp against the setting sun.

“I trust you have a reason for this perilous expedition?” the princess demanded as she turned to stare out over the plain.

“I thought you might enjoy the view, your Highness.”

Damin Wolfblade really should learn to speak to the princess with more respect.

“It’s lovely. Can we go now?”

“Tell me what you see.”

“I see nothing, and I’m freezing. Is this really necessary?”

“You see nothing,” Damin repeated thoughtfully. “Interesting, don’t you think?”

“You find nothing
interesting
? Well, that’s hardly surprising for a man of your limited intellect.”

Mikel grinned in the darkness of his hidey-hole.
That’s telling him!

“Adrina, a few leagues from here, your husband’s army sits and waits. They do nothing. They don’t attack. They don’t train. They don’t even run away. They just sit there, waiting for something. I want to know what they’re waiting for.”

Adrina turned north, her expression puzzled. Rather than the biting retort Mikel was expecting, she shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“Were they planning something, before you left? Something that would account for their willingness to hold an army of that size immobile for so long?”

“I’d tell you if I knew. Their war council did little more than argue, and you’ve already seen their idea of battle. The Dukes of Karien are not renowned for their tactical genius. When you have countless troops to throw into battle it isn’t really necessary.”

Mikel wasn’t sure he believed what he was hearing. They sounded so…friendly.

“Could one of the Dukes have advised him to wait?”

“Lord Roache may have,” Adrina shrugged.

“What did the Duke of Setenton advise?”

“Lord Terbolt? He’s not there. He sent his brother Ciril in his place.”

The warlord frowned. “Terbolt isn’t there? He’s Jasnoff’s most trusted commander. Where is he?”

“I don’t know. Cratyn didn’t seem surprised by his absence, though. Perhaps Jasnoff had other plans for him.”

“What other plans?” Damin asked, the concern in his voice obvious even to Mikel.

“I was permitted to join their war council rather begrudgingly, my Lord. They weren’t in the habit of discussing anything of import while I was present.”

Damin laughed softly. “Not an unwise precaution, in light of recent events.”

Adrina turned on the Warlord. “That remark was uncalled for, my Lord.”

Damin sighed. “That’s right, I forgot. You aren’t committing treason, you just want to be free.”

“Free! Get this damned collar off my neck, then I might remember what the word means!”

As Damin moved closer to her, Mikel wanted to leap to the defence of his princess, but Dace held him back.

“No!” the thief whispered.

Burning with frustration and not at all certain why he remained hidden, Mikel turned back to watch, thinking the Warlord was much too close to the princess to be proper.

Damin was fingering the golden collar Adrina wore with surprisingly gentle fingers. It reflected the setting sun, making the wolf’s ruby eyes glitter malignantly. Adrina’s rigid posture betrayed more than she imagined.

“What would you give to be free, Adrina?” he asked softly.

“Unhand me, sir!”

Damin dropped his hand. “I can see why your marriage was never consummated, your Highness.”

Mikel swallowed a horrified gasp. He knew what “consummated” meant.

Adrina laughed. She sounded genuinely amused. “You don’t like me much, do you? Is that why you take so much pleasure from tormenting me?”

“Ah, now there’s the tragedy, your Highness. If you weren’t such a treacherous, conniving little bitch, I’d probably be quite taken with you.”

Adrina turned away from him, to study the red streaked clouds. The sun was almost completely set. “You presume to know an awful lot about me, considering the short time of our acquaintance, Damin Wolfblade. How much is your own opinion, and how much is hearsay, I wonder?”

“I make my own judgments. I’ve no need to listen to hearsay.”

“I beg to differ, my Lord,” she retorted, turning to face him. “You told Captain Tenragan I tried to kill the High Prince. You weren’t there. How could you possibly know what happened, unless you listened to hearsay?”

“He told you that, did he?”

“Yes, and it’s a damned lie! I did no such thing!
Your uncle is a perverted monster, and if those boys would rather die than let him touch them, I don’t blame them!”

“So you did give them the knife?”

“Yes!”

Damin was silent for a moment. “Why did you take the collars?”

“I didn’t take them. Lernen gave them to me. I kept them as a remembrance of two children destroyed by a debauched old man. Somebody owed them that much.”

He took a step back from her. “It’s cold, your Highness, and I know how anxious you are to return indoors. Shall we go?”

Adrina planted her hands on her hips angrily. “That’s it? No apology? No admission that you were wrong? How dare you, sir!”

The Warlord shrugged. “For all I know, you’re lying about that, just as you lie about everything else.”

“I am
not
lying!”

Damin closed the gap between them with frightening speed. “Then prove it, Adrina. Tell me the truth! Why did you leave Karien?” Although he was looming over her, Adrina held her ground. Mikel watched helplessly, wanting to kill Damin Wolfblade almost as much as he wanted to stay hidden and watch this strange scene unfold.

“I’ve told you a thousand times! I left because Cratyn is a miserable, cowardly, little cretin! The day we were married he hit me and called me a Fardohnyan whore and told me all he wanted was a Karien heir to my father’s throne. It went downhill from there.”

Tears misted Mikel’s eyes to hear such words coming from his princess.
She is lying to protect herself
, he reasoned anxiously.

She walked to the other side of the small tower and leaned against the crumbling merlons, turning her back to the Warlord. The darkness was settling rapidly, making her features hard to distinguish.

“Was it that bad?” Damin asked, in a surprisingly sympathetic voice.

“Worse than you could possibly imagine. The bastards even killed my dog.”

She’s making it up
, Mikel told himself, over and over.
She’s making it up
.

“Does your father know what it was like?”

“Even if he did, he wouldn’t care. Hablet has his own plans.”

“To invade Hythria, no doubt.” Adrina looked around sharply, but Damin smiled. “Don’t worry, Adrina. I won’t overtax your ability to admit the truth any further, this night. Your father’s worst fault is his predicability. His plans are easy enough to fathom. It’s the Kariens who have me worried at the moment.”

“I told you, I don’t know what they have planned.”

“And oddly enough, I believe you. Come on. The sun has set. If we stay up here much longer they’ll be able to decorate their damned Founder’s Day banquet with a couple of ice statues.”

He held out his hand to help her down and, to Mikel’s disgust, she accepted it. But she halted at the top of the steps and leaned toward him in a most unladylike manner. “Tarja showed me the graves, Damin. That was a noble thing to do for an enemy.”