Chapter Twenty-three

E ron jerked awake and sat up in bed. Had someone called his name? A tap sounded on his door. At Kene's, his valet would wake him, see him dressed—with minimal participation—and he'd meet Kene for breakfast. Here, servants brought him far too much of a meal to break his fast. He'd never get used to the lofty ways of Castle Hisar living. He'd either taken the fawning as his due as a boy, or Father hadn't held on ceremony.

Then again, Eron might simply not remember. He pulled the bedclothes up to hide his nakedness. "Enter."

Instead of a servant, Miisov entered, his appearance more bedraggled than usual. "Forgive my imposition, Lord Edry. I need to speak with you on a matter of some urgency."

That he'd said "Edry" put Eron on alert. Perhaps his current guards were more alert than usual.

Miisov entered and closed the door, giving a deep sigh. "Crau and Selin have a plot of their own. They intend to kill Bain and blame your sister."

Eron stiffened. "No."

"Of course, we won't allow such treachery. Crau also met with Kerric last night. Knows he's awake and that the legends are true. I've cast an illusion spell. The statues will be undetectable. Crau will no doubt send men to search the castle for them."

"What happened? Is Kerric all right?" Eron would kill any who dared harm him.

"The rising sun saved him. It's possible that he and his men will all awaken soon, which is one reason I'm out of strength. I've done all I can." The gray cast on Miisov's skin emphasized the effort expended. "The armies are in place. Selin has arranged for Bain to meet him in the gardens tomorrow evening before the ball. It appears they intend for Lessa to be blamed for Bain's death, and you will be blamed for hers."

"I wanted Crau and Bain dead before. Now, I'll show no mercy. Where is Crau at this moment? What about Selin?"

"Selin is a lowly worm whose only threat is as a schemer. He'd never dirty his own hands. Crau, on the other hand… I've brought in someone to watch him."

"Someone we can trust?"

"I hope you can trust me." Kene stepped through the door, sinking her teeth into an apple. She'd dressed all in black as Lord Night.

"Kene!" Eron ran to embrace his mentor before stopping and grabbing a blanket to cover his nakedness. Not that she'd never seen his body before while tending to his wounds. "How did you get in?"

Kene held her apple aloft, hugging Eron with her free arm. "With a little help from magic." She stepped back and lifted a medallion from inside her tunic. "Too bad it has a time limit. Crau isn't the only one I'd settle a score with."

Eron studied Miisov's face. The new lines on the mage's weathered skin showed the power the medallion and other spells required. How much had he aged just since Eron's return?

"I'm doing this for Eron and Lessa, not for you, old man." Kene opened a window and tossed out the apple core. Did she not notice how terribly Miisov had aged?

Or had one of Miisov's many spells been to protect his daughter from the truth?

"Selin and King Bain will meet in the gardens. Elzab… Kene, you stay behind Crau."

"Shouldn't I be looking for the assassin?"

Why hadn't Crau and Bain contacted Eron about the dirty deed yet? Did they know something? Have other plans for him?

"I have someone watching the assassin." Miisov glanced sidelong at Eron.

"Eron?" Kene laughed. "You're the assassin?"

"He is, so you see, he doesn't need watching. He'll remain with me."

Kene turned her full attention to Eron. "What's this I hear about you and a statue? I always knew you liked them hard as a rock, but you've outdone yourself, boy."

The visible parts of Miisov's face flushed at his daughter's crude pronouncement. "The castle will be surrounded tomorrow at sunset. Crau, Selin, and Bain will be taken into custody, ready to answer for their crimes." He sauntered over, placing his hands on Eron's shoulders. "You must be declared king and break the curse."

This again? "I don't want to be king."

"For the good of the many," Kene and Miisov said in unison. Kene glowered at her father. Yes, it must sting to know how much alike they were.

Miisov smiled. "You've been well taught, child. I wonder who's responsible."

Which only deepened Kene's glower.

"You shall be confined to your rooms today, Eron. This evening, we'll pay a visit to the approaching armies. They already have some of their people in place here in the castle." Miisov's smile turned sinister. "They are allies."

Allies in the castle? "Why haven't I met them?"

"Because we cannot risk anyone, accidentally or otherwise, revealing our secret."

It made sense, but Eron still didn't like not knowing the entire plan. "Aren't you afraid Bain, Crau, or Selin might escape?"

"I am not. They aren't familiar with the hidden passageways in the castle, and they've never shown an interest in servants or how they suddenly appeared when needed. Their arrogance will be their downfall. However, Queen Lessa's sons have already been taken to safety. A formidable woman, your sister."

She'd make a perfect queen, a much better ruler than Eron could ever hope to be, which set the wheels turning in his mind.

Eron regarded his mentors, the new and the old. "I'll be ready."

And he would be.

Eron found a note written in an ornate script with his luncheon.

"It must happen tomorrow night at the ball."

He lost all appetite. Bain expected him to kill Lessa tomorrow, the night of the much-accursed ball.

Lessa and Kene slipped into his room a short time later, Lessa drawing clothing inspiration from Kene. Either could have passed for Lord Night. She handed Eron a sheathed sword, the hilt done in the fanciful Eritrescue design. "This belonged to our brother. You should have it."

Eron admired the weapon, thinking of Dafron with the sword at his hip. He put on the sheath, tears clogging his throat. "Thank you."

He and Lessa held eye contact, each silently mourning the loss of their kin.

"I'm supposed to kill you tomorrow night at the ball," Eron commented offhandedly. "After you supposedly kill Bain."

Lessa gave a highly unqueenly snort. "Trust me, my killing Bain is believable. And as I'm a guest of honor, I requested a masked ball. One of my ladies is attending in my stead at Kene's urging, under heavy guard, of course. The maid cooperating with my husband will suddenly find herself locked in an empty room until this drama plays out."

"Too bad I didn't bring your valet, Eron," Kene remarked.

Lessa raised one elegant brow. "Oh, and why is that?"

"He looks very much like me, and his main purpose is to be my alibi if and when I'm, ah…" How could Eron put this delicately?

"When you're out relieving some lord or lady of their trinkets and gold? Kene told me." Lessa appeared far too smug.

Miisov's arrival meant Eron didn't have to answer. Now to wait for sundown—and Kerric.

Eron vaguely recalled a passageway to the kitchens where he'd played as a child, pretending to be a knight of old and rescuing the king. Anthone used that very route to spirit Eron away.

Tonight, Eron dressed as a villager, Lessa, Kene, Miisov, and Kerric with him, also hidden under homespun cloaks.

Lessa's sons were safely ensconced with Simona, no doubt enjoying some of the pies she baked during this time of the season.

Memories flooded Eron's mind of Anthone whisking him away to safety. Anthone had given his life to save Eron.

So many brave souls needed avenging—Father, Dafron, Anthone, and Stablemaster Hentri. Eron paused, squeezing his eyes shut. Pain lanced through his heart.

For them and others, Eron could not fail. Then came Lessa and her sons. Kerric and his men. Even though Eron wouldn't have chosen this path, he owed the people of this kingdom freedom from the misery they suffered under Bain.

The power abuses must stop. The leaders Eron planned to meet had known his father and older brother. If Eron had ever met them, he couldn't recall. Most were older, of his father's generation. Somehow, Eron must convince them to back his cause. He'd never in his life seen a formal treaty, yet now he must forge several. Thank Gertia for Lessa, who possessed the knowledge and political talent Eron lacked.

He traveled behind Kerric, through twists and turns, finally emerging at the ruin of a stable. Familiarity jolted him. The burned timbers had once housed his horse. This was where he'd visited Hentri and escaped his fate. What had become of Beauty?

The fallen timbers remained, never having been cleared, now covered with a light dusting of snow. In the quiet, Eron swore he heard faint screams from horses and townsfolk as they scrambled to escape the invaders.

Miisov turned to face Eron. "Locals consider this place cursed. I might've aided that with a ghostly figure or two. No one comes here, which makes it perfect for our purposes."

Saddled horses stood at the ready, along with a groom, breath fogging at each exhale. Kene, Miisov, Lessa, and Eron each mounted a horse. Lessa nodded to the young man who'd delivered their mounts.

The man smiled, pulled up his cloak hood to hide his face, and sank back into the trees.

Kerric rested a hand on the neck of Eron's mount. "I am sorry, but the curse keeps me here at the castle. I cannot leave. Know that if I could, I'd remain by your side."

Eron leaned down, placing his gloved palm against Kerric's cheek. "I know. Wait for me." The intense heat in Kerric's eyes made Eron squirm. If not for their audience, Eron would have kissed him.

Kerric stood in the road as Eron and the others took off at a trot, Eron not daring to look back.

They rode single-file in darkness down a well-worn track, tiny balls of mage light illuminating the way. An old stone wall gave way to a towering gate guarded by two men in the blue and gold of Hisar's military, though the deep blue appeared nearly black in the inky darkness.

The two accepted a purse from Miisov and opened the gates. Eron never trusted loyalty paid for with coin, but no doubt Miisov had added a touch of compulsion to the silver. He looked more haggard tonight than ever. Guilt stung at how Miisov let himself suffer in order to work his magic.

Several miles through thick woods brought them to a clearing. The full moon's light glinted off something on the far side of the field.

Eron swept his gaze repeatedly over the open ground, hackles rising at his exposed position. Soon enough, his entourage reached the other side. Mounted soldiers met them, wearing colors Eron recognized as belonging to Dillane, Fashkein, and Methus.

The soldiers led Eron's group through more woods to another clearing set up as a military camp. When they passed the largest tent, the soldiers motioned Eron's group to stay.

Two soldiers stepped forward, taking their horses' reins. Eron dismounted, stretching out kinks in his back while waiting for Lessa, Kene, and Miisov to join him.

They strode toward the tent, where two guards allowed them inside. Eron kept his hand on his sword hilt.

He stopped inside the tent flap, using every bit of learned skill not to drop his mouth open or otherwise give away his surprise. Three men and one woman sat in chairs, men and women wearing a commander's rank standing behind them.

The kings and queens came personally? Their regal bearing and signet rings gave them away.

Miisov said, "Prince Eron, allow me to introduce King Anselm of Fashkein, King Rupert of Methus, Queen Rana of Dillane, and Crown Prince Korazn, acting on behalf of his father, King of Votrya. Your Majesties, and Your Highness, please welcome Prince Eron, younger son and heir of King Lothan of Hisar."

Each dipped their chins in acknowledgment. All but the prince was old enough to have known Eron's grandfather.

"Let us waste no time," King Anselm began. "We've much to do and little time to do it in."

Soldiers brought chairs for Eron's delegation. Eron suddenly wondered at the wisdom of traveling light to avoid detection. If things went wrong, he'd rather have a score of his own soldiers at his back.

"You are correct," Eron said. "We haven't much time. King Bain has plans to execute Lessa and her sons, while I believe Duke Crau plots to take the throne for himself."

King Anselm, who acted as spokesperson, replied, "A fact we can use to our advantage. Tell us truly, are you indeed Price Eron, son of King Lothan?"

"I am, and this is my sister, currently Queen Lessa of Anilitk."

"Of course he is," Queen Rana interjected. "He's the spitting image of his brother."

King Rupert nodded. "That he is." Only Korazn remained quiet, keen blue eyes constantly moving from one face to another while he stroked the few scant hairs on his chin.

"Begging your pardon, Queen Lessa, but King Selin is a traitor," King Anselm spat.

"A fact I'm well aware of." Lessa filled her words with venom. "And that's probably his most positive quality. If it weren't for our sons, I could honestly say he's never accomplished a good thing in his life."

King Rupert flashed a grin. "We agree, then, Queen Lessa."

"For the sake of expediency, shall we do away with titles? I'm Lessa, and I'm here to discuss what's to be done about Bain, who killed my father and took his throne by force."

Korazn finally spoke, words heavily accented. "He is a treacherous worm whose words aren't worth the breath to say them. He has taxed his people to the point they must raid my father's lands if they intend to eat. I also have reason to believe he killed the last diplomat we sent to reason with him. He is a mad cur who honors no one but himself. Mad curs are put down. He's continued his treachery for far too long."

Eron's impatience grew. The night wouldn't last forever. "I am in full agreement. My question is what are we going to do about it?"