Chapter 52
Tynan
Even riding one of Father’s best steeds, it’s taken me far too many days of travel to get from Khotor to Achotia. While I can survive without food or sleep, the horse cannot, and I can’t risk exchanging it for another.
Soldiers roam everywhere, so I’ve avoided the main roads whenever possible.
I’m not certain whether Father has yet realized I left Khotor.
Fearing he might not let me leave, I snuck out of Khotor in disguise, leaving a message with one of the footmen that I will join my father in Catha, for my wedding at the Feast of Othrix.
I have no intention of being there, but I hope it might keep my father from sending knyghts after me.
Inspired by Rosomon’s disguise from when she escaped her wedding, I swapped my princely finery for the clothes of a klerick, and thus far, only two soldiers have questioned me, and they seemed satisfied when I told them I was on a mission for Othrix and the King and flashed the scroll containing the royal pardon.
Nearing the Achotian castle gates, I slow my horse to a trot. This castle is flying the same banners as my own—albeit fewer, and ones not so grand. My remaining doubts that my father and the klericks now control every kingdom, vanish.
When I get close, the guards snap to attention. Two of them bow. Have I been recognized? Or is this how they greet all visitors.
I give my horse’s reins to the stable grooms, and collect my packs, draping them over my shoulders. One of the servants tries to take them from me, but no chance will I risk being separated from my things—especially Saxon’s pardon.
At the stable entrance, a man in more formal attire approaches and bows. “Your Royal Highness,” he says. “I was not informed of your impending visit. Forgive me that we did not greet you properly at the gates.”
I nod my head, hiding my reaction. Clearly, I was recognized. “It’s an unofficial royal visit, hence my garb.”
The man nods. His eyes and demeanor read more nervous than suspicious, so I keep my posture and attitude regal. If my father has realized I fled, he has not yet sent messengers, or knyghts to find me. I should take advantage while I still can.
“I’m here on the King’s behest,” I say boldly. “I must see the former king of this castle.”
The man’s eyes snap open wide, and he staggers back from me. “But Your Highness.” The man is shaking. “The King, your father, ordered the former king’s execution.”
My chest tightens. “Of course he did. I am here to ensure his orders were carried out.” I try to slow my rapidly beating heart and swallow the bile in my throat. I must act as if I knew this.
“When I arrived, I didn’t see the traitor’s head on a pike, so I was testing you. Making sure you’d carried out the royal orders.”
The man, now looking even more nervous, nods.
“And what of the former princes?” Please, don’t let them be dead too.
“As ordered, they are held in the keep,” the man answers. “Neither has yielded. Neither has pledged his allegiance to the King, but I feel sure it’s just a matter of time. I will order the inquisitor to increase his pressure—”
I raise my hand to stop him. “Order the inquisitor to cease his duties. I will speak to the boys myself.” I narrow my eyes. “I can be very persuasive.”
The servant bows toward me. “Yes, Your Highness.” Still bowing his head, he backs four steps away from me. “The royal chamber will soon be prepared.” He snaps his fingers and two footman rush forward to join us. “Take Crown Prince Tynan’s bags to the Royal Chambers.”
Scenarios race through my mind. I don’t want to lose track of my saddle bags. What if I need to leave in a hurry?
“I will keep my bags on my person,” I tell the servant, who must be the former king’s valet or marshal. Everyone’s uniforms seem the same so it’s difficult to guess ranks or positions.
“My bags contain sensitive documents that must not leave my possession. Also, before being shown to my room, I will require a tour of the castle and grounds. I will report my findings to the King—and the Prime Klerick.” I add the latter to put even more weight on my request, although I’ve never been near the Prime Klerick, who resides in Catha.
“Certainly, Your Highness.” He sweeps his hand to the side. “Perhaps we should begin in the dining room. I’ve sent orders. Cook can quickly lay a feast of venison and piglet. But if there is something else you’d prefer.”
“My belly can wait.” Although it grumbles at the mention of food. “Show me the chapel. The Prime Klerick will be most displeased if it does not meet his standards.”
I remember few parts of this castle from when I stayed here, the night before Rosomon was meant to marry my grandfather. But I do remember, in great detail, the story she told me of how she escaped through a tunnel under the chapel.
“After I inspect the chapel, I will feast. Then, I will interrogate the former princes. I shall bring them food to trick them in to believing I’m an ally.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
The malleable man leads me toward the chapel, and I memorize the route. Once inside, I hope to see features to trigger more details of Rosomon’s daring escape.
Needing my wits about me, I drink little wine with my dinner. My belly full, I request two bundles of food to take to the keep. Rosomon’s father is dead, but if I’m going to rescue her brothers and sneak them with me to camp, we’ll need additional provisions beyond these small bundles.
Perhaps I can find the route to the servants’ quarters. I went there once with the two boys. There, I’ll surely find more food, and based on my reception, thus far, no one will stop me. At least if I can rid myself of this marshal who’s been stuck to me like glue since my arrival.
Based on my reception in Achotia, I should be safe to wear my royal garments on the remainder of our travels. If anyone dares question me, I’ll claim the boys are my prisoners.
The bundles of food arrive, and I rise from my chair at the dining table where I ate alone. While I dined, Marshal stood at attention behind me the entire time, and my every instinct screams that I should shed myself of my shadow, and soon.
I order him to take me to the Keep and turn toward him at the bottom of the winding stone stairs. “Leave me,” I tell him. “I will speak to the former princes alone.”
Marshal frowns. “But Your Highness—”
I raise my hand to stop him. “Are they housed together?”
He nods.
“Give me the key.” I reach out my hand. “During my stay in the castle, I will keep this key on my person, so I can question the boys, day or night.” Marshal takes the key from a guard, and I glare at him as he hands it to me.
“It’s imperative that I question the former princes—alone. The King’s orders.” I say this loudly, so all the nearby guards and footmen can hear me.
Clearly these people know I’m heir to the throne, so I may as well use that to its full advantage. No one here need know that as soon as my father realizes I’ve fled my upcoming wedding, he’ll send assassins to chop off my head—just as he killed my brothers and grandfather.
Key in hand, I climb the stairs, thrilled to discover no further guards at the top.
I open the door, and the young men, boys really, are sitting together in a corner. The smaller one, Olifer, if I recall, is in his older brother’s arms.
The older one, Alfryd, leaps to his feet. “Who’s there?”
Like most castle keeps, the round room has thick stone walls, and the only light comes from narrow slits meant for archers to fire through. Seeing no chair, I take the one sitting outside.
I carry it into the room and close the heavy door behind me.
“I am Prince Tynan of Khotor. Do you remember me? We shared a few glasses of wine the night before your sister’s wedding.”
“It’s the dragon rider!” Olifer, the younger one says, his eyes wide as he gets to his feet.
Alfryd’s stance firms. “We refuse to bend the knee. Not to your father, not to you. Not even if you chop off our heads.”
“I do admit—” I chuckle “—that it would be difficult to bend the knee, once your heads are gone.” Neither boy seems to find me amusing. Especially the younger one who casts his eyes down.
The room lacks furnishings, containing only one wooden cot with no mattress and only one blanket.
I note another blanket on the floor where the brothers were sitting.
Beams of moonlight cut through the small windows, and I cross to look out of one facing toward the main courtyard below.
But we are at least two hundred spans from the ground, and the slit is so narrow not even a cat could climb through.
“Sit. Please.” I gesture toward the small wooden cot which the boys are apparently expected to share. “We must talk. I brought food.” I reach the bundles toward them. They hungrily eye the packages but make no move to take them.
I shift the chair, placing it several hand spans away from the cot.
I take a seat, and Alfryd gestures to his younger brother. They sit on the cot, facing me.
I set the bundles of food on the stone floor between us. “I’m here to rescue you,” I say in a voice just above a whisper. “I’m here to take you to your sister.”
Olifer’s eyes widen, but Alfryd leans back from me. “Our sister is dead.”
Grinning, I shake my head. “She’s not dead.
In fact, she is very well. At least the last time I saw her.
” Worry invades my confidence. It’s been over five moon cycles, but I feel deep in my heart that she’s alive.
Zogar would not let any harm come to her, and if she’s not back already, she will be soon.
“Rosomon is at the dragon rider camp.” I decide not to tell them that she’s actually a dragon rider.
And I certainly don’t tell them that she’s crossed the veil, or that she’s married to a dragon shifter king, or that I don’t know her precise location at this moment.
Alfryd distrusts me enough. I don’t need to add information few people would believe.
“Is she truly well?” Olifer shifts to the edge of the cot. “We were told she faced execution, after disobeying our father and fleeing her marriage.”
Alfryd’s eyes narrow. “Her marriage to your grandfather.”
“That’s what they wanted you to believe.” I keep my voice even. “And I was very sorry to hear about your father.”
Alfryd stands. “What of the King? Where is he being held? Have you seen him?”
I draw quick breath. They don’t know. “I only arrived today.” I shake my head. “I was told…” I look at both boys with compassion. “Your father was executed.”
Olifer turns away from me, staring at some marks on the stone floor. Alfryd’s expression breaks, but then firms again. “I am now King.”
I lean forward. “I wouldn’t say that too loudly.” I glance toward the door. “You do know what’s going on in the Kingdom of—throughout the Light, do you not?”
While at my father’s court, it took me a while to stop referring to our world as the Seven Kingdoms and based on what I learned from my father and others, it’s likely these boys have been locked in this tower keep for eight moon cycles, or more.
I learned all I could about how the other kingdoms were conquered and when, but don’t know the exact timing nor all the details.
Beyond telling me that the klericks helped, father seemed purposefully vague.
Alfryd glares at me. “I certainly know that your kingdom betrayed all the others. I know that Khotor took my kingdom by force. As King of Achotia, I will never yield.” The kid is braver than I expected. Foolishly brave. That could prove a problem.
“I had no part in any of that,” I tell them.
“I was occupied at the dragon camp and knew nothing of these events until they were over.” I look between the two boys, searching for a hint of trust in their eyes.
I imagined they’d be excited to learn of their impending rescue.
It’s crucial I gain their confidence for any part of my still developing plan to work.
“I am not here to force you to bend the knee. I’m here to free you,” I repeat what I already said. “I’m here to take you to Rosomon.”
“How do we know we can trust you?” Olifer asks, and his brother glances at him with irritation in his eyes.
“I know your sister well,” I tell him, trying to think of something she’s told me that will help to convince them.
“She told me how she oft took a steed called Sky Stallion for rides outside the castle gates.” I turn directly to the younger one.
“Also, I know that the last night you saw her, she borrowed some of your clothes. She also took daggers and some of your coin.”
He gasps. “What has become of her?”
“Your sister is very brave,” I tell them, glancing between the two. “Disguised as a boy, your brave sister climbed out Olifer’s window and escaped the castle grounds through a tunnel under the chapel.”
Both Olifer’s and Alfryd’s eyes widen. I believe at least one of them knows of this tunnel. That will be very helpful indeed.
A sound comes from outside the door, so I rise and move close to the boys.
“I will return. When I do, we will make our escape.”