15. Chapter 15

Chapter fifteen

“I have to leave,” Alain said after they’d all drunk the tea and eaten the pastries. “I have chores Margaret cannot do alone. I have a neighbor's help, but I must return as soon as I can.”

Tsaria knew exactly what chores Alain would have to do if he was running the farm, and Kamir offered help. “I can arrange a carriage easily,” he said cautiously, but Alain shook his head.

“I have one waiting, your highness. The same I arrived on. It was sent for me just after the prefect left.”

Tsaria met Kamir’s gaze. They were supposed to be visiting Eldara, but he couldn’t just let children be hurt.

Mansala stepped forward and whispered in Kamir’s ear, and Kamir inclined his head. “We need to discuss a plan.”

Alain bobbed his head at Kamir, clearly overwhelmed, then turned back to Tsaria. “I know what I’m asking. Don’t ever think I don’t. It’s just they’re…”

“Innocents,” Tsaria finished for him. He understood. He didn’t want to die. He definitely didn’t want Kamir’s uncle to get his hands on him again, but he couldn’t allow children to be harmed in his stead.

Alain stood at the same time as Tsaria, and Tsaria watched Alain go with a servant to freshen up. He was numb. Then a hand clutched his arm, and he turned to Kamir. “You really think I’m just going to let you just leave?” Kamir said. “Let’s investigate first.”

But what was there to investigate? Two children would die if he didn’t return. But then, more children would die if Kamir didn’t find his dragon. What a choice. And what about Jael? He couldn’t just leave him.

“Come with me,” Kamir said softly and Tsaria let him draw him away. He took Tsaria into the bedchamber and closed the door, then drew him into a hug Tsaria felt in his bones.

“I have no choice.”

“I wouldn’t love you if you didn’t say that,” Kamir whispered. “These are children.”

Love? Tsaria’s heart beat madly. He’d called him beloved many times but Tsaria had treated it as a throwaway nickname almost. This felt different, or maybe it was that Tsaria was finally paying attention. Did Kamir expect him to say it back?

Kamir cupped his face between steady hands. “But you’re mine, or I’m yours, whatever. I know who I am erects this huge, impenetrable wall between us, but I am convinced. I know we are bond mates, and this is much more than releasing my dragon. I’ve never said that. I won’t forbid you to do what you need to do, but I also won’t stand by while you put yourself in danger.”

Tsaria’s heart settled slightly because Kamir wasn’t going to try to forbid him to leave. “But we cannot just surrender,” Kamir said. “We need help and I think we can delay Alain long enough to come up with a plan, and there’s Jael to think about.”

Jael. He loved that brave little boy with all his heart but he couldn’t take him back to Rajpur.

It turned out that Alain was happy to bathe while they made arrangements, and Ash arrived. “Do you trust him?” Tsaria glanced at Ash, the no-nonsense man that seemed to occupy a huge position of trust with Attiker.

“I don’t know him,” Tsaria finally admitted. “Up to today, the last time I saw him was when I was sold to Ishmael at ten.”

“Then let’s err on the side of caution,” Kamir said.

“Caution?” Tsaria said with incredulity. “But children—”

“Yes,” Kamir said. “I know. Let’s take the time to see Eldara. I think she’s important.”

Tsaria looked around at the faces staring at him. Mansala was always there. Kamir looked earnest and truthful. Ash the same, but could he really believe them? Kamir had so many political needs and responsibilities that Tsaria could never hope to compete with. He worked in a whorehouse. However you dressed it up, whatever words you used, he still sold his body for money.

Sold his body for money.

But wasn’t that exactly what he was still doing? When they worked out how to make it happen, Kamir would need Tsaria to bring forth his dragon. He knew in his heart Kamir was a good man, but that didn’t alter their circumstances.

He needed time to think. He needed to work out what he wanted, and not get caught up in the royal hoopla, in case it didn’t last.

“Tsaria?”

He glanced at Kamir. “Can you just give me a little time?” The fact was that as a pleasure slave he was often in control, even if it was an illusion. Kamir gazed at him with those huge amber eyes, but for once Tsaria couldn’t work out if they were hiding something. He inclined his head and ushered everyone out of his rooms to leave Tsaria in peace.

And obviously once Tsaria had gotten that, it quickly turned out to be the last thing he wanted. What he wanted was a guarantee from Kamir, which was utterly ridiculous. He couldn’t give him one. He had to take Kamir on faith.

It took a bell, but he finally acknowledged that Kamir really did love him. He had no idea why, but Kamir had proved it over and over, and Tsaria believed him. He stood deciding to search Kamir out when a servant brought Alain back. “Brother,” Alain’s smile was cautious, and he twisted his shirt. “I’m sorry, but I had to see you before I left.”

The confusion must have shown on Tsaria’s face because Alain hastily added. “It’s all arranged.”

And now he was even more confused. A hundred images flew through Tsaria’s brain. The day he fell, and it was Alain who picked him up. Tsaria was crying because his knee was scraped and if he looked very carefully it might even have been bleeding. Father had told him to stop being a baby. Tsaria never knew why his father had never liked him. He’d been told his mother had died when she bled so badly giving birth. It wasn’t Tsaria’s fault, but Father had always treated him like it was.

Then when Tsaria was so hungry his belly ached, and it was Alain who shared his food when Father wasn’t looking. Alain always came when he had nightmares. Tomas was a carbon-copy of their father. Always treated Tsaria like he was too much trouble, always cared about the farm, which is why he didn’t understand Tomas joining the army. He would have been running the farm now.

Tsaria stepped into Alain’s open arms before he could drop them and buried his head in Alain’s shoulder, smelling the scent of home.

“I’m sorry our first meeting in so long has to be like this,” Alain murmured.

“Not your fault,” Tsaria sighed and stepped back. That bastard Ishmael had kept them apart.

Alain glanced at the floor and his neck reddened. “I don’t expect you to return with me,” he whispered and raised tear-filled eyes. “Especially after what…” he trailed off, reddening even more, the blush obvious since Alain was fair like Father.

“After what?” Tsaria repeated, and Alain flushed harder.

He shook his head. “No, I know. I get it.”

Tsaria could hear his words edging into panic. “Alain, tell me what you mean.”

He squirmed. “I know you’re important. And I understand what Ash means. I mean, how could I not? I know ensuring the emir gets crowned is vital.” Then he frowned. “But that makes no sense. Of course he will be emir. Why does that have anything to do with you not coming with me?” He shook his head. “But I understand the emir is more important than I, and despite what Ash said they wanted, I couldn’t leave without telling you I understood. After the way Father treated you, I don’t blame you for hating my family.”

Tsaria felt like he’d joined a conversation halfway through.

“I need to go. Ash promised some protection.”

“Wait,” Tsaria stopped him. “You spoke to Ash? Just now?”

“Yes,” Alain confirmed. “He explained how important you were and that I couldn’t ask this of you.” He frowned. “I think he was worried because I heard him talking to that big chap that follows his highness around.”

“Mansala?”

“’Course, no one would blame you for waiting here until the full moon,” Alain said.

“What?” Tsaria said in confusion. But that was at least another twenty full daylights, and the children would be sacrificed in seven.

“Not sure what you’re waiting out, but apparently something bad is gonna happen, then eventually ‘cos you can’t stop it, you ride in all victorious afterwards and it stops a war.” Alain seemed to think about that.

Tsaria shivered; he felt so cold. But Ash wasn’t Kamir. There was no way Kamir would expect Tsaria to sacrifice children. But what about the edict from the ruling assembly? Even more children would die if Kamir didn’t change into his dragon. But Tsaria had tried, and nothing had happened.

“And I understand,” Alain said. “Ash said his highness promised to send a guard back with me.”

“His highness promised a guard?” Tsaria said woodenly.

“Apparently you’re needed for the coronation and everything, but as soon as that’s done you can come back home.” Alain smiled hopefully. “They won’t need you anymore so you’d be welcome at the farm.”

Tsaria swallowed sickly. Exactly as he’d feared. That once Kamir proved his animal, Tsaria would be tossed away like spoiled meat.

“Don’t tell them I snuck out to speak to you after I promised I wouldn’t, please. I don’t want to anger them.”

Tsaria felt bile hit his throat. All those promises Kamir had made when he insisted he was different and tried to get Tsaria to call him by his first name. When they had woken that morning. When they had been close. What they had just done. It just proved he should never, ever trust the rich. “You spoke to Kamir?”

Alain huffed. “Ash first. But I can’t believe an emir would possibly want to talk to me. ‘fraid I might have been a bit tongue-tied.”

“Where’s your carriage?” Tsaria said, feeling numb. Kamir was willing to sacrifice children just to make his riding to the rescue worth the show?

“I was told it was outside the kitchens,” Alain said. “Told me they’d send provisions back with me.”

How kind of them. Tsaria suddenly lunged and hugged his brother. “I want to come, but I have no idea how to get out.”

Alain looked unsure. “Neither do I, but I can’t ask you to do this for me.”

“You’re not,” Tsaria said. “I’m doing this for Sarah and Arrabella.” He could help them, and even Kamir had admitted he did nothing to stop his father’s cruelties. The rich had means he only dreamed of. There was no way with the support of Cadmeera that Kamir wouldn’t be able to be crowned, animal or not. The only thing he trusted was Jael’s safety. He knew Attiker would make sure Jael was cared for. Would Jael even miss him? He glanced back at Alain, and Alain ducked his head, trying to wipe away tears. Tsaria had no choice. Would Jael ever forgive him for being one more adult that had let him down? One day he hoped Jael would understand, or better still forget all about him.

He knew what he’d be going back to.

“I just need to work out a plan to get out of here.” There was a passage in the bathroom, and somehow that must eventually connect with the kitchen. Flynn and Candy had said so, and Jael had bragged about it later, but they’d gotten turned around with the smell of Kamir’s food.

He walked over to the bathroom and looked around. The bath dominated the space and was set into the floor. It wouldn’t be moveable, so he looked at the walls. The two that shared the day room and the spare suite he ignored. Which left two. One had shelving for bowls of water and one had the closet with the mechanical pot in it for waste. Tsaria wrinkled his nose.

“What are you doing?” Alain whispered, like someone might hear them. Tsaria looked around in frustration and ran his hands over the bare wall.

“There’s a hidden passage. I know it comes out here, but I just don’t know where.” Alain stepped forward eagerly.

“Lainy,” Tsaria whispered. “You’ll get in trouble,” but Alain shook his head and moved the sacks of winter vegetables.

“Look, here.” He bent and pried a wooden board away from the wall, revealing a small crawl space. “Anytime you need to hide, just sneak in here.” Alain showed him the rough rope handle he’d tacked to the inside of the panel and made sure Tsaria could get in and out and stay hidden. He crouched down. “When Father drinks ale and you have to hide.” Alain didn’t look at Tsaria, but Tsaria still carried the bruises from the last time Father had gotten drunk. “When he falls asleep, I’ll always come and get you.”

Tsaria hugged his brother. “Does Tomas know?”

Alain shook his head. “Let’s keep it our secret.”

Alain ran his hands over the shelves and then bent to a small cupboard used for keeping bathing cloths and lotions. Tsaria heard a snick, and Alain straightened with what looked like a wooden panel in his hand. “False back. A little obvious, though,” he said rather disapprovingly. Tsaria took a step forward, but Alain put a hand out to stop him. “I don’t want to put you in danger.”

Tsaria agreed. The very last thing he wanted was for Kamir’s uncle to get his hands on him, and he would have stayed and gone over the plan some more if he hadn’t known Kamir and Ash had no intention of letting him go. He brushed a kiss on his brother’s cheek and scrambled in, realizing that Alain was too big to fit through. Kamir would and he even imagined Mansala would fit, but his brother had too generous a middle.

“Go back with the servant. Let her take you to the carriage. Dawdle if you have to. They won’t risk detaining you because they’ll be in a hurry for you to leave. I’ll get in the carriage and hide.”

Alain watched as Tsaria turned and crawled away, then replaced the wooden panel. The passage was plunged into darkness and Tsaria froze, but then when his eyes grew accustomed he could see cracks of light in between the wooden panels at various intervals and knew he was passing similar entrances into other rooms. He stopped suddenly to wipe his eyes, and then he heard it. A slight scuffle that stopped almost immediately, and Tsaria shuddered. Mice? He hurried on until he could hear muted voices and then he smelled it. Baked bread. No one could ever mistake the smell of loaves just out of the oven and if he hadn’t had been keeping quiet, he would have laughed.

But then he froze as he heard the scuffling again. Seven hells, were there rats in here? That had sounded loud. He held his breath for a long moment but didn’t hear anything else, so he carried on.

He got to where he knew from the light spilling in, he’d reached the kitchen and had to wait many agonizing minutes for the voices to fade before he risked getting out. Finally, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer and opened the panel into a storeroom. He quietly climbed out and jumped down. Then he took a breath and listened hard. Still no noise, so he opened the storeroom door and stepped into the kitchen, coming face-to-face with the cook.

Cookie. The one who had worked for Kamir when he was a child. To say she was startled was a little bit of an understatement and Tsaria bowed his head. “My apologies for startling you. I wondered if I could send my brother away with some bread perhaps? It is a long journey.”

Her face softened. “But, your Highness, you could have just summoned what you required.”

He dipped his head. “I’m not comfortable…” With anything. And he wasn’t “his highness.”

“Don’t you worry,” she chuckled and grabbed a basket from a shelf, filling it with so many goodies Tsaria’s mouth watered. Then guilt stabbed at him. She was being so nice, and he was deceiving her.

“I would never want to get you into trouble.”

She shook her head and tucked two bottles of beer into the basket. She headed for another storeroom and Tsaria trailed after her. “His highness is one of the kindest people I have ever met. He won’t be angry.” She lifted the basket and handed it to Tsaria, who could barely carry it. “But I understand you don’t know him. Don’t worry, it will be our secret.” She patted his hand. “I love company. Anytime you’re peckish, you know where I am.”

Tsaria struggled to swallow the lump in his throat and honest-to-goddess wondered if he was doing the right thing, but then he thought about those two little girls and he knew he didn’t have any choice.

He took the basket and kissed Cookie on her floury cheek, which made her blush, then headed for the door. The carriage was obvious, as there would be no other reason for it to be outside the kitchen and he climbed in and hid. After a moment he heard voices, which thankfully included Alain’s, but also included Ash’s. Tsaria held his breath, even buried under the pile of blankets and the low seat.

“Look,” Ash sighed. “Kamir’s a good guy, and from what I can see, so is Tsaria. We can work this out. None of us want to see your children in danger.” He sounded so sincere and for a moment it gave Tsaria pause.

“I thank you,” Alain said gravely. “But we both know far more people will die if they don’t find a way to defeat his highness’s enemies.”

Which sounded all wrong. Surely anyone that had children would put them first? Not accept their fate for the good of the nation? But the carriage moved and once Tsaria heard the horns he knew they were clear of the gates. He scrambled out. Alain blew out a long, relieved breath.

“Wasn’t sure you made it.”

He sat himself on the seat and watched as Alain investigated the basket. “Wow,” Alain said. “Good stuff.” He offered a chicken leg to Tsaria, whose stomach curdled at the thought of food, and he shook his head. Not that he blamed Alain. Even though he’d just eaten, food was never a guarantee for the poor.

They travelled in relative silence for a good five bells until they reached the border with Rajpur, because while Alain rattled on occasionally, Tsaria struggled to combat the guilt he felt every time he thought of Kamir and Jael. They would cross the passage through the Dijon Mountains soon, but it would take at least another seven bells to reach the city of Rajpur, and the farm was farther to the west.

“Tell me about my nieces,” Tsaria said, desperate for a distraction.

Alain looked startled. After a moment, he said. “Well, they’re girls.” Tsaria smiled encouragingly.

“Margaret can’t have boys.”

Tsaria didn’t have an answer for a moment, as the statement seemed so strange. Not that they couldn’t have children but a particular gender. Lots of people couldn’t have children, but it made no sense to say girls specifically. Tsaria sighed. That wasn’t fair. He understood the back-breaking work farming could be, and Alain had been raised by the same father as he had. He was bound to have a little prejudice.

“You said Sascha’s seven?” Tsaria said, then flushed, realizing he had the name wrong. What must Alain think of him that he couldn’t—

“Yes,” Alain said. “Little she-devil,” he added. “Bosses her ma around like she has the right.”

Something cold curled in Tsaria’s belly. “And Annabel? Is she a daddy’s-girl?”

Alain shrugged, and lifted the canvas covering the window. “Think we’ve crossed the border.”

Tsaria’s heart beat a rapid rhythm. He could understand Alain mishearing one name. He had travelled a long way, but Tsaria’s accent wasn’t difficult. He’d practiced at Ishmael’s insistence, and his dialect was practically non-existent, even if they hadn’t grown up together. There was no excuse for Alain not to correct the wrong second name.

Or was he being too hard?

“Tell me about Sascha. Does she take after you in her coloring, or Margaret?”

Alain frowned but mumbled something about Margaret. And it was the second time Tsaria had mentioned Sascha, not Sarah .

Annabel, not Arrabella .

Tsaria opened his mouth because he really needed to know, but in his heart he knew there was something very wrong. “Are you sure you have daughters?” Tsaria said in defeat, but the carriage gave a little jerk, and he could hear many horses ahead.

Ahead not behind. Which meant they didn’t come from Cadmeera.

He met Alain’s uncomfortable gaze. “What did you do?”

Alain pressed his lips together. “What I had to,” he snapped out as the horses came nearer, and the carriage slowed to a stop. “Some of us don’t have a prince in their pockets.”

Tsaria closed his eyes briefly in defeat. What had he done?