Chapter Twenty-two

K erric became flesh once more at sunset. He'd seen far from the castle into the distant mountains from his vantage point. How he wished he could keep his gargoyle's wings. He'd fly there to ensure what he suspected held true.

But wait. There in the far distance, a thin trickle of black smoke was visible in the last of the waning light. His blood ran cold for a moment. The invading armies who'd brought about the downfall of King Lothan had likely appeared much the same way on first arrival. If only Kerric had been assigned to the ramparts, then. Were those the armies Queen Lessa spoke of? Kerric would need to ask her for certain, but the position of another fire and then another spoke of several military camps.

Bain's lookout had an older man's eyes and a younger man's penchant for strong drink and women. He'd never spot armies in time.

When would Kerric's men awaken? He could use Malcolm's steady logic and Georgi's spying skills. One by one, he stood next to his men, explaining what he knew. If only they would come alive. How he longed to see them, some of the few people left in the world he called friends, even if they followed his orders.

Kerric descended into the castle after being reasonably certain his men would have some idea of the situation if and when they awakened. He wandered the hallways while Queen Lessa and Prince Eron hopefully caught up under Miisov's watchful eyes—and likely a few enchantments. While Kerric might seek them out later, the time had come to settle an old score. There would be no arrest, no trial.

He'd leave the soldiers to the queen and prince while he sought the deceitful brute who'd no doubt find a bolt hole at the first sign of trouble. He'd not get away this time.

No chance for the weasel to slither his way out of a confrontation. Crau had once been a mentor, friend, and protector. He'd championed for a lowly maid's child to train as a king's guard. Kerric owed him loyalty once. Any debts ended when Crau used Kerric to accomplish his own goals. Goals Crau and Kerric had taken vows against.

Betrayal stung even after so much time had passed. Seasons upon seasons for grievances to simmer. For plots to hatch. From his lofty perch, Kerric often noticed Crau come and go from the castle and watched his wealth increase until he went from riding a horse to a grand carriage. He'd also seen his mother leave what had been their home. She'd died, likely thinking her only son was a traitor. He'd not been there to offer comfort—or the truth.

He'd watched Crau leaving the castle with his pretty young duchess in tow after his wedding and saw him arrive with his heir.

Kerric had no wish to make the duchess a widow or the heir an orphan if they were innocent of Crau's plotting, but Crau had to be stopped and must pay for his crimes.

While Kerric worked to restore the reputations of himself and his men.

He spent several hours checking on sentries, finding guards he'd have punished for their laxness. They might not have noticed the force gathering to attack even if they had been paying attention.

Where was Eron now? What was he doing? How Kerric longed to find him, hold him, and take advantage of the perceived equality in their current statuses. No. He could never forget Eron was a prince and would one day become king.

What would Kerric do then? Stay and serve King Eron as he had King Lothan, or would he leave, seeking out his mother's family or his father's?

Time enough to worry about the future later.

Kerric resumed his mission, knowing which passageways Crau traveled in the night. Knew he'd be alone—the perfect time to take advantage.

He straightened his tunic. It was time to meet the enemy as a captain of the king's guard, a soldier to be proud of, and best the man who'd taught him to fight. Who'd once been like a father.

Lies. All lies. Crau merely created a tool to be used, nothing more.

Kerric kept to the shadows, taking advantage of Crau's not expecting him. This was a huge mistake for Crau. For while Kerric had been learning the lessons Crau intended, he'd also learned subterfuge during his waiting.

Crau's boot heels clacked against the stone a few paces ahead. Kerric timed his own footfalls to minimize damage should he make a sound.

The clacking stopped suddenly. Kerric peered around the corner. King Selin stood in the middle of the passageway, blocking Crau's way. Selin's appearance hadn't improved with age. While he might once have been a dashing figure for young maidens to swoon over, the cruel twist of his mouth, haughty demeanor, and vile reputation took away from any positive attributes—if he'd ever truly possessed any beyond looks and noble birth.

"Is everything ready?" Crau asked.

"It is. I've arranged for Bain to meet me in the gardens before the ball, telling him I have information about a traitor." Selin chuckled, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "You know how he cannot resist intrigue."

"What about Queen Lessa?"

Selin made a derisive snort. "One of her lady's maids will slip a potion into her drink. She'll sleep deeply, with no memory of what happened."

Smugness came through in Crau's words. "Imagine her surprise when she wakes covered in blood, holding the knife that killed her great uncle. With one act, we remove several obstacles to our plans. Her maid will bear witness, and then she'll be encouraged to attend the ball as though nothing happened. Our thief will kill her. Afterward, the maid will come forward with the proof of the queen's murderous act."

"While I regret the pain her death and the scandal will cause my sons, everyone will believe she sought vengeance for her family. She's sworn to often enough." Selin spoke dispassionately. Had Lessa ever mattered to him at all?

Kerric no longer worried about making Crau's son an orphan.

Bain had no direct heirs, but Selin no doubt planned to make a claim to the throne for his son, doubling his kingdom.

However, what was in it for Crau? Did he plan to incriminate Selin in Lessa's plot? Or would he take a more direct approach and then claim Queen Lessa killed her husband and King Bain? But then what? Crau couldn't claim the throne.

Crau and Selin knew nothing of Eron's presence beyond being a mere thief. That would be their undoing. Even if they succeeded with their clumsy plot, neither of them would ever be king of Hisar, even if they accused Lessa of killing King Bain to put her son on the throne. Unless Crau proved Eron's involvement, for which he'd have to be aware of Eron's existence to do.

Thoughts of vengeance fled. Others would be involved. These two men wouldn't dirty their hands, and killing Crau might not end the plot. Kerric's mother once explained that simply trimming a weed didn't stop its growth. The only way to destroy an intruder in the herb garden was to uproot it and ensure it died without the opportunity to dig its way into the soil again.

Two sets of footsteps faded away, the men continuing their walk.

Kerric returned the way he came. He must get to the prince and the queen to warn them of Crau's plans.

Miisov stepped from a side corridor. Had he been here all the while? Was he in on Crau's plot? Kerric had always been leery of the royal mage. Of mages in general, actually.

"You heard," Miisov said, a statement, not a question.

"I did." Kerric cooly assessed Miisov, a man he might never come to trust. However, if Miisov helped restore Hisar to its former glory, King Lothan's heir to the throne, he'd earn some measure of loyalty.

Miisov shifted his gaze to where Kerric rested his hand on his sword hilt without comment. Instead, he asked, "What do you plan to do about it?"

"I… I don't know. We'll set the wheels into motion the night of the ball, which is also likely when Bain expects Queen Lessa and her sons to die at Eron's hands." Kerric shook his head. "Nobility, always with their plotting. My head would ache trying to untangle all the treachery."

"As mine often does." Miisov motioned for Kerric to follow him. "Lessa and Eron are safe for now. I've warded their rooms."

"Whatever we do must happen soon."

"Have the soldiers Lessa spoken of arrived?"

"It appears so. I spotted campfires behind the hilltops." One advantage of Kerric's lofty perch was ample time to study the landscape.

"Money has crossed palms to keep Bain none the wiser."

Queen Lessa hadn't disclosed all her plans to Eron and Kerric, but if she'd already arranged for the armies, had she known her brother still lived? Surely her joy had been unfeigned, and she'd been telling the truth. Had she planned to take the throne for herself, find that distant cousin, or install her younger son as king? No, wait. She'd said Miisov told her to send the armies, hadn't she?

Kerric carefully considered Miisov's words. "We can only hide a company of soldiers from multiple kingdoms for so long. We also must have someone follow Crau from now on. Not let him out of sight. When dawn comes, I'll be unable to."

"Leave that to me." Miisov appeared far too smug for comfort.

"Do you have someone you can trust?"

Miisov nodded. "While they may have no love for me, they'd do anything for Prince Eron and Queen Lessa."

Interesting. Kerric would attempt to tease out a name if he wasn't losing precious time. "I'll seek you out upon waking tomorrow night."

"You do that."

"Will my men join me?"

Miisov shook his head. "I am not sure. At the very latest, they'll appear when Eron takes the throne."

The men currently encased in stone could help make that happen. What a stupid curse to make them wait till they were less needed, but Kerric wouldn't complain now. "Until then." He continued his circuitous pathway to the oldest section of the castle, his mind spinning with plans upon plans. He found himself so preoccupied that he didn't notice he wasn't alone until a figure stepped out of the shadows on the ramparts, sword drawn.

Crau sneered. "Captain Kerric. The silver doesn't suit you. Did you and that fool Miisov think I wouldn't notice a missing statue? Or that I hadn't heard the legends of how you might return?"

A brief flash of fear of discovery turned to anger. "It's you who caused my punishment. Seasons of watching the world and never being able to take part."

"And yet, you're alive now. I wonder… Legend says you'll awaken only when a member of Lothan's family returns to power. Could it be that you plan to put Lessa on the throne?"

Kerric said nothing, resting his hand on his sword hilt.

Crau continued speculating. "Your men haven't awakened, I see. So, maybe that's not your plan. You were my student once. You could join me again."

How dare the traitorous bastard suggest such a thing! "Not after your betrayal."

Crau leaned against one of the gargoyle statues. "What if I brought my men up here and commanded them to push these ghastly creatures from the walls?"

Panic gripped Kerric's heart. These men had been loyal and faithful and hadn't deserved what happened to them.

Kerric drew his sword.

Crau threw back his head in laughter. "You forget, pup, that I trained you. I know all your weaknesses. You'll never defeat me."

"And you forget, Crau, that while you've gotten older and allowed your body to go to seed, I am the same as when we last faced off—a warrior in his prime and still favored by Ibrus. Tell me, does he still even accept your prayers, or do you no longer pray for fear of his wrath?"

Kerric attacked, relying on nearly effortless practiced motions. His body acted on impulse. While Crau knew Kerric's weaknesses, Kerric also knew Crau's. Like a damaged left knee from being thrown from a horse and scars on his right leg that inhibited movements.

The paunch that hadn't been there the last time they'd sparred likely threw Crau's weight off.

Crau parried. Steel rang against steel. Kerric pushed his advantage, forcing Crau back toward the railing. How fitting to give Crau the ending he'd just used to threaten Kerric's men.

Crau spun away, coming up on Kerric's left, weight on his right foot. Kerric dove, sweeping Crau's legs from under him. Crau crashed into the stone. He rose slowly, bared his teeth, and charged in on the offensive.

Kerric fought off the attack, ducking behind a gargoyle. Metal clanged stone. He winced. May Malcolm forgive him.

He bolted from his hiding place, meeting Crau once more. Crau panted, either in pain or from fatigue. Neither mattered. What mattered was defeating this man once and for all. But Kerric wasn't lawless. He recited the soldier's creed. "For the crime of betraying King Lothan and his family, I sentence you to death."

He brought his sword down with all his might. Crau danced away, grinning. The sound of running footsteps approached.

Six men surrounded Kerric. He'd no hope of winning, but he'd die doing everything in his power to protect King Lothan's legacy.

"Kill him!" Crau commanded.

The morning's first sunbeam rose over the treetops. Swords met nothing but stone.