The Decoy Princess (44 page)

“But we don’t have the key for the shackles,” Duncan protested as I crouched to pat the clothing of the guard with the cell key.

I grinned at the buzz of muted excitement from my guards. “But I have Thadd’s tools.”

Thadd’s head came up, his hollow eyes flickering with hope. “You have my chisels?” he said, reaching out past the bars.

“And mallet.” I lurched over a writhing sentry and shoved the key into the simple lock. The door swung open. The light fell upon them cleanly without the shadow of the bars. “Can you break the shackles?”

“I’ll try.” He emerged from the cell like a young bear, nudging aside a downed guard. I ran back to the foot of the stairs to get his tools. Duncan hovered beside the table, anxiously watching as I handed them to Thadd. I silently took in Duncan’s bruises, feeling sick. In the bare minutes he had been out of my sight, they beat him for that defiant gleam he still wore.

The clank of clean metal as Thadd chose the largest chisel drew my attention. I was torn between watching and the hushed calls of men from the cells. They were shackled as well, but I could at least get them out. Thadd swung his foot up onto the table and positioned his chisel.

I was unlocking the first door when a sharp clank rang out. Thadd said nothing, and I handed the key to the first guard and returned to the table. Brow furrowed in concentration, Thadd shifted the chisel against the lock and raised the hammer again. His muscles tensed, and with strength and exquisite precision, he brought the mallet down. “Chu!” he exclaimed as the chisel slipped from the metal to tear a gash in his leg.

“You did it!” Duncan exclaimed in a whisper, and an excited babble rose behind us.

“Yes, but look what I did to my leg.” Thadd pulled the shackle from his ankle and swung the other up onto the table. He began to hammer at the second ring of metal.

The Costenopolie guards blinked at the brighter light as they rattled out of their cells. Their smiles were grim but honest. With very little conversation, they moved the five comatose guards and the last frightened one to a cell and locked it. The feeling below-ground had turned.

“Got it,” Thadd said, the sharp sound of metal against metal breaking the tension. It sounded different.

“Saint’s bells,” he swore. “I broke my chisel.” Thadd straightened. His eyes were hopeful as he threw the chains into his empty cell. “Duncan?” he said, and the man carefully eased his leg up onto the table, his breath held against the pain. He wasn’t using his left arm, holding it close and unmoving. His face was drawn, and bruises peeked from behind his shirt. Garrett was an animal.

While two Costenopolie sentries kept a hidden guard near the top of the stair, the rest of us watched with waning hope as Thadd broke every chisel he had. “I’m sorry,” the sculptor said as the last cracked to a thin shaving. “Duncan, I should have done yours first.”

I solemnly met the ring of determined faces. They were hungry. They were brave. They smelled. They would do anything for me. “We will retake the palace while shackled,” I said.

Duncan went still. His bowed head rose in a smooth motion, fixing the brown of his eyes on me with a surprising intensity. His lips pressed together. “Thadd, give me that last chisel.”

“I broke it.” Thadd put the handle in his grasp. “It’s not good for anything.”

Duncan was silent for three heartbeats. His carefully empty face shook me. He’d shown me only what he wanted to before— and now I would see more. A spark struck through me, more potent than our kiss. He had seemed so safe. He wasn’t. Seeing my breath catch, he nodded almost imperceptibly, as if agreeing with me.

A guard chuckled as Duncan carefully placed the chisel into the opening of the lock. His brow furrowed, and he twisted the metal until it was at an odd angle. “Hairpin,” he whispered. His eyes were fixed upon the rusted lock balancing against his leg, and his voice demanded obedience.

Fumbling at my topknot, I handed him a hairpin—no venom, just a mundane hairpin. My hair was ready to fall about my ears, and I rearranged Kavenlow’s metal darts to hold it. “Do you think he can do it?” I heard someone ask. “Look at his hands,” another said. “He’s a thief sure as chu pits stink!”

“I’m not a thief,” Duncan insisted, his breath slipping from him in a rush as the lock clicked open. “I’m a cheat.” He eyed me from under his brow. “There’s a difference.”

“You did it!” Thadd exclaimed, and Duncan confidently tossed the shackles aside.

Duncan nodded, his eyes still fixed to mine. The guards had clustered around him, but I couldn’t look away. I saw him there in his dirty clothes and thick stubble, holding his beaten body at an awkward angle to ease his hurts, and my knees felt like water. The heat of our kiss washed through me. He wasn’t who I thought he was.
God help me. What was I feeling
?

“Princess,” a guard said, jolting my eyes from Duncan. “We heard Prince Garrett’s men leaving upstairs. What’s happened?” I blinked as I recognized Resh, the captain of my father’s guard. “I’m retaking the palace,” I said. “Do you know where Kavenlow is being held?”

“No. I’ll find him. You stay here.” He gestured for two men to act as my guards.

“No,” I said. “I’m not the princess. And I won’t stay here when I can do something.”

“Princess—” he started, halting as I frowned at him. Old habits die hard.

“I can’t wait until you’re all free,” I said. “Princess Contessa needs me now. You retake the palace.

Thadd and I will see that Prince Garrett doesn’t escape with her before you regain the grounds.” His brow furrowed, and I glared. “Until you get out of your shackles, there isn’t much you can do about it, Captain Resh,” I said, gesturing for Thadd to join me.

The man hesitated, and in his confusion, I broke away.

“You’ll get them free?” I said, and Duncan looked up from a shackle. The gleam in his eye took me aback. Under it was the sly knowledge I had seen past his innocuous exterior to the real man beneath—and that despite the stubble and grime, I was attracted to him.
Save me from myself
, I thought, thinking my desire for men of power would be the end of me if Jeck wasn’t.

“Save the princess, Tess,” he said, his look warming through me, unexpected and surprising. “I’ll do this.”

Our gaze broke as Thadd handed me the jacket from the smallest Misdev guard. I shrugged into it, not liking how it smelled or that it fell almost to my knees. Thadd looked frightened but determined in his borrowed Misdev jerkin. Someone’s boots were on his feet, and he moved with only a slight limp. He wasn’t much taller than I was, but I felt safe with his powerful bulk beside me. Despite his earlier mistrust, I knew he would sacrifice his life for mine if he thought it would help Contessa.

Passing through my father’s guards to reach the bottom of the stairway, I wondered if anyone would ever love me like that.

Thirty-three

“Slow down,” I said breathlessly to Thadd as he paced to the door of the guards’ quarters and the lighter rectangle of dark. “And don’t look around so much,” I added. “Drop your shoulders, and swing your arms. You look as if someone is going to fall out of the sky on you.”

Thadd caught his pace, and I came even with him. “I’m sorry, Tess,” he said, his voice slow and worried. “I’m no good at this.”

“Yes you are,” I encouraged, thinking I wasn’t either. Thadd said nothing, his grip tight on his heavy mallet. My pulse quickened as we neared the entryway, and I strained to see past the door. A savage growl brought us to a standstill. My panic melted as I recognized Banner.

“God save us,” Thadd whispered, clutching my arm and pushing me behind him as Banner’s large silhouette rose in the threshold. “What the devil is that monster?”

“Banner,” I said, more for the dog than Thadd. “That’s my dog. Stay here.”

Thadd’s head bobbed loosely, and I went to the agitated animal. It took more than a few moments, but with encouragement and a firm demand for obedience, Banner accepted Thadd as someone to be tolerated. It didn’t help we both stank like Misdev guards.

“I don’t know how we can reach Contessa,” Thadd said, tentatively patting Banner. “They’re looking for us. And no disrespect, Tess, but you don’t look like a guard. You don’t even look like a man.”

“Thank you,” I said as I peeked outside, meaning it. I felt awful in Duncan’s trousers, and my borrowed jerkin stank so badly of sweat, I didn’t think it had been washed since being taken off the loom. “But if we can gain the halls, I can get us into my room without being seen.”

“What about the guards outside her door?” he protested.

I edged into movement. I had snuck in and out of my room so often, I had worn the stone clean under my window. “Even with the guards,” I said, motioning for Thadd to follow.

We saw no one on the way to the kitchen. Most of the sentries on the walls had torches, and they were too distant to worry about. A loud, fire-lit commotion was at the stables. I heard a horse call and frowned. It sounded like Tuck.

The sentries were still at the kitchen door when Thadd and I eased into hiding nearby. They were eating something sticky by the amount of finger licking going on. My head shook in disgust at the quality of Garrett’s men. They fell with a brief moment of confusion, each pierced with a dart. Thadd and I dragged the convulsing men into the shadows.

“What do you want to do with them?” Thadd asked, his voice shaking more than his thick hands. I knew I could count on him, but he looked ready to fly apart.

Banner had his tail tucked, looking both aggressive and afraid. It was a dangerous combination. I took off my pack and pulled out a length of cord. “Tie them up and put them in one of the cooking pits,”

I said as I cut it into usable lengths with my knife. “I’ll be right back.”

“Tess,” he protested, but I slipped to the door of the kitchen. I peeked in to find it empty. A pot of water was steaming, and several beheaded chickens waited on a table. Garrett had to be eating better than that, though, and I found a flesh-strewn bone in the refuse barrel.
Banner wouldn’t move from this
for a week
, I thought in satisfaction.

A wisp of song brought my head up. Someone was coming. Face tight in alarm, I glanced at the door.

It was too far away. I dove for a nook beside the pantry. Crouching, I pressed against the wall. The singing grew louder as a man entered. My heart pounded. “Stay put, Thadd,” I whispered. “Please, stay put.”

“Oh-h-h-h, I don’t have to man the walls,” the man sang heartily off-key. “I don’t have to clean my boots. I only have to clean the chickens and pull out all their goots.”

“That’s guts,” I muttered, “and it doesn’t rhyme.” It was the Misdev guard-turned-cook. Apparently he had been enjoying his change of profession from spitter of men to spitter of chickens. I cringed in tired weariness as he launched into a ballad of the warmth of entrails on one’s fingers when it was cold. “You can take the man off the battlefield…” I breathed.

I peeked around to see the apron-clad, ex-soldier contentedly dipping a chicken in hot water in preparation to pluck it. “Kurt!” came a faint summons from what sounded like the banquet hall, and the cook looked up. “The chancellor wants some water!”

Kavenlow
! I thought, tensing. They had him in the banquet hall?

The guard hummed happily. “Water for the chancellor, not rain upon my head. I’d rather be a cook than a soldier who is dead.”

I crouched, torn with indecision, as the cook left with a pitcher. I wanted to see Kavenlow, but if I left Thadd much longer, he’d come looking for me sure as Banner would. There were scornful laughs from the banquet hall, and I wondered what they had done. Worried, I glanced over the empty kitchen and made a dash for the garden with the bone for Banner.

“Hey!” the cook cried, and I spun, my face warming. Setting his pitcher by the door, he wiped his hands across this filthy apron. “Aren’t you the one—”

“Guts and boots don’t rhyme.” Pulling my dart tube to my lips, I made a puff of air.

He frowned as it hit him in the neck. “You little harlot,” he said, plucking it out and stepping forward.

A pained look crossed him. He groaned, clutching his shoulder. My held breath slipped out as he fell, out cold by the time he reached the floor. Heart pounding, I watched him. He wasn’t even twitching. I hoped he wasn’t dead.

Banner whined from the doorway. Thadd stood beside him looking whiter than I felt. Knees weak, I glanced from the empty doorway to the prostrate cook. No one was coming. No one had heard. “Come on,” I hissed, grabbing the cook’s arm. “Help me get him outside.”

Thadd dragged him out by his heels and I gave Banner his bone. The huge dog promptly sat where he was and began gnawing. I joined Thadd at the pits, binding the guard’s hands and feet and tying a rag over his mouth. Thadd shoved the unconscious cook into the pit atop the others, and I tugged the cover over it.

“Banner, come,” I whispered, coaxing the massive dog to sit on it. “Stay.” The dog’s tail mumped hollowly on the wooden cover as he resettled himself. He was more interested in the bone than my praise. He would stay put, and when the cook and guards were found missing, no one would dare disturb the huge, half-starved animal that they had been tormenting.

Thadd took my arm as I turned to the door. “Here,” he said, extending a belt and sword.

I stared at the length of steel, not liking it. “I can’t use it,” I protested in a hushed voice.

“Then it’s for show,” he said, draping the belt around my waist and frowning since there wasn’t a hole in the strip of leather small enough to fit me. “Take your knife back, too,” he added, and I shakily accepted it. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like it at all.

Armed with a weapon I couldn’t use, I reentered the kitchen and skulked past the boiling water.

“Wait here,” I whispered. “I want to see Kavenlow.”

“What do I do if someone comes in?”

“Hit them on the head with your mallet?” I suggested, and he looked at it in horror, as if never having considered it as a weapon before.

I edged into the small, unlit dining room. My gaze went to the tapestry that had saved my life. I swallowed hard as I found nothing left of the curtain but three rings and a scrap of cloth. Sitting on a stool in the hearth where the fire would be was a game of thieves and kings. My face burned when I realized it was the game I had left for Jeck on the inn table. Obviously he had guessed I had hidden in the fireplace.