The Runaway King (4 page)

M
inutes later I charged through the doors of the throne room. All eighteen of my regents were there, with Gregor in the seat once occupied by the snake Lord Veldergrath. I still hadn’t selected regents to replace either him or Conner, and probably wouldn’t for a while. At least not until those who wanted to be chosen stopped preening themselves every time I walked by. Whatever conversation there had been extinguished like a flame in water. In a somewhat disheveled fashion, everyone lowered themselves into bows or curtsies, no doubt also tainting their noble breaths muttering the devil’s vocabulary.

“Whoever forgot to invite me to this meeting should be beheaded,” I said as I slumped into the king’s chair. “So, which of you is that?”

Most of the regents became suddenly fascinated with the folds of their clothes. Either that, or they were avoiding looking at me. The silence didn’t bother me in the least. Lord Hentower was seated closest on my right. I stared coldly at him and rather enjoyed watching his growing discomfort.

Gregor chose to break the tension. “Your Highness, this was a hasty gathering, and no offense was meant. If we had known you wanted to attend —”

“I never
want
to attend,” I corrected him. “Yet here I am. So what are we discussing?”

Again, the regents took an interest in their clothing, or their hands, or the tiles on the floor. In anything, really, but answering me.

“Lady Orlaine,” I said, “can I assume we’re all here to discuss the mating rituals of the spotted owl?”

She faltered for a few words before finding her tongue, then sputtered, “There was an assassination attempt tonight, sire.”

“Yes, I know. I was there.” I focused on Gregor. At least he had the courage to look back at me. “How did pirates get inside my castle walls?”

“That question is being investigated as we speak,” he said.

“But not by you.” I glanced around. “Unless you suspect one of my regents.”

“No, of course not.” Gregor cleared his throat. “We’ll find the people who did this.”

“It was done by the pirates. And King Vargan helped sneak them inside.”

Gasps followed the accusation, then Lady Orlaine asked, “Can you prove this?”

“Proving things is his job,” I said, pointing at Gregor. “He may not have told you, but earlier tonight I spoke with Vargan. He warned me that we were going to be attacked.”

“Why would he do that?” Gregor asked.

“You know why. To intimidate me into handing over our land first.”

A fact that didn’t seem to bother Gregor nearly as much as it should have. “Are you sure he said ‘attack’?” he asked. “Perhaps he meant it in another context.”

“Ah, one of the cheery definitions of the word, then?” I asked. “Such as an attack of affection, or an attack of goodwill toward Carthya? I know what I heard, Gregor.”

“What you
think
you heard,” Master Westlebrook, a younger regent at the far side of the table, corrected. “We cannot make any accusation based on such thin reasoning.”

Gregor leaned forward, his hands clasped on the table. “Jaron, our greatest concern, of course, is your safety. I’ve explained to your regents the threat that was made against you, and we believe we have a plan.”

“Which is?” This should be good.

Lord Termouthe picked up there. “First, we’ve agreed to give them Bevin Conner. We must make some concessions if we hope to have peace between us.”

From across the table, Gregor continued, “And of course, sire, your life must be preserved. We decided that you cannot be turned over to the pirates.”

I grinned. “A decision that probably came only after a long debate.”

I had expected some smiles at that joke, but there wasn’t even one. I cocked my head at that, wondering if there
had
been a debate.

“The regents believe that until the immediate threat passes, you must go into hiding,” Gregor said. “However long it takes, we will keep you safe.”

“Until when?” I was nearly at the end of my patience now. “Another four years? Or shall it be forty this time?”

Without answering, he continued, “Finally, we have to remove the motive for the pirates wanting you.” Gregor took a deep breath before this part. “I’ve proposed to the regents that they install a steward until you’re of age. If you’re not on the throne, then the pirates gain nothing by killing you.” He looked at me to respond, then with my silence added, “You may not like that idea, but it will save your life, Your Majesty.”

At the mention of a steward, my heart had stopped cold in my chest. I didn’t know where to aim the anger that had so suddenly filled me. At Kerwyn, for failing to warn me this was coming? Or Gregor, for pretending to be the most loyal of servants even as he plotted to pull me off the throne? Or myself, for giving the regents reasons to trust Gregor more than me? I settled on Gregor, because I was already annoyed with him anyway.

Then Lord Termouthe said, “Jaron, will you support this plan?”

I rapped my fingers on the armrest. “No.”

“Which part do you object to?” Gregor asked.

“The part where you began speaking.” I stood and began walking the room. “To start, we must protect Conner until I understand everything about my family’s murder. He’s our only link to the truth. The dervanis oil —”

“Conner told you that was irrelevant,” Gregor said in a raised voice. “Why this obsession with chasing shadows when the real question is how to keep the pirates out of Carthya?”

“It’s the same question!” I shouted back. “Can’t you see that it’s all connected? Something is wrong with his story!” Already, my talk with Conner had begun nagging at me. Something had happened there that I should have noticed, perhaps a message coded in his words, or in the tone of his voice. And yet the clues remained hidden.

“Nothing is wrong with his story. You’ve become so unstable, obviously the only thing wrong is with you!” Gregor paused and checked himself, then lowered his voice. “Forgive my outburst, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean that.”

But he had meant it. And from one glance at my regents, I could tell he wasn’t alone in thinking it. Only Kerwyn, standing silently in the corner, seemed to be on my side.

I swallowed my emotions, then calmly said, “You misunderstand the reasons why the pirates want my life. Whether I’m hiding or not, whether I’m king or not, they intend to finish the job Conner hired them to do four years ago. They don’t want a treaty or a trade agreement. Nothing will satisfy them but my death. This is a threat that cannot be negotiated away.”

“Negotiations always worked for your father,” Mistress Orlaine said.

“My father was wrong!” Which was something I’d never spoken aloud, never really even dared to think. I straightened up and said, “When the other side only wants our destruction, what is left to negotiate? I’m asking you to follow me. Because if we don’t defend ourselves now, then after the pirates come, Avenia’s armies won’t be far behind.”

“Which is why we believe the solution is to remove the pirates’ motivation for coming in the first place.” Now Gregor stood, facing me directly. “Jaron, the regents will not support any act of war as a solution to this problem.”

I stared at them, aghast. “As of tonight, the pirates are already at war with us. Ignoring that reality doesn’t mean we’re at peace.” A few heads nodded back at me, but not enough.

“We’ll find a way to avoid war . . . without you.” Gregor’s voice was icy now.

My mind went to what Conner had said in the dungeon. Without me alive, Carthya probably could avoid war, a convenient option for everyone. Except me, of course.

I set my jaw forward. “Has there been a vote?”

He shook his head, then said, “Maybe we can’t force you to hide, but we can install a steward until you’re of age and ready to become king again. Don’t make this a fight, Jaron. You’re alone here.”

Also as Conner had said. “And will you be the steward?” I asked.

Gregor cleared his throat again. “In times of war I’m the logical choice. Besides, Amarinda will be queen of this country one day. She fully supports my leadership and I’m certain would give that endorsement to the regents.”

“She’s not queen yet,” I said.

Kerwyn stepped between us and addressed Gregor. “There are two vacancies amongst the regents right now. One is from the regent who would have killed Jaron if he’d found him at Farthenwood. The second is from the regent who did kill Jaron’s family. The king is young. But I still trust him above anyone in this room.”

“Hopefully one day we’ll learn to trust him, too.” Gregor turned back to me. “It’s just until you come of age, Jaron. And for your own good.”

I started to retort but Kerwyn put a hand on my arm, urging me not to continue the argument. He was right to stop me. I couldn’t win this battle.

They had left me with only one choice now, and my palms were already sweating at the thought of it. I felt as if I were standing deep inside my own grave, with the climb out beyond anything I could reach. And yet I must climb. My first step would begin right here with my regents.

Already anticipating the answer, I forced my hands to unclench and looked at Gregor. “When am I leaving, then?”

“At dawn. We’ll complete an investigation of what happened tonight, and then move forward with diplomatic efforts to solve this problem.”

I shook my head. “You must delay any vote for a steward until that investigation is complete. The pirates gave me ten days. You give me nine.”

Gregor hesitated, but Kerwyn said, “That’s acceptable. No investigation could be adequate any sooner than that.”

“And what about the princess?” I asked. “Her safety?”

“You were targeted tonight, not her. I’m certain that she’s safe here.” Then Gregor added, “You are right to support this plan, Your Majesty.”

I took that in with a slow nod. “Do you think I want to run?”

He only said, “You’ll return soon. And you’ll see, in the end, everything will be for the best.”

I
left the throne room alone, too wound up for sleep and too exhausted for everything this night still required of me.

The last thing I needed was to come face-to-face with Amarinda, who had clearly been waiting in the passageway for the meeting to end. I offered her a curt nod of respect, then said, “Which of the regents are you waiting for? Or is Gregor the one you want most?”

Amarinda’s almond-colored eyes narrowed as her gaze descended on me. She was uncommonly pretty and had a way of unnerving me whenever I looked directly at her. So I rarely did.

“I came to speak with you.” Her tone was livid. “I heard what you did to Imogen. How dare you? She did nothing to deserve that!”

I turned on her with my own anger. “And tell me, what did Conner do to deserve such a fine meal, hand-delivered by you?”

“You were supposed to have eaten it tonight, at supper with me!” I couldn’t argue with her there. For the past week, I’d found something better to do at nearly every mealtime. Then her temper cooled. “I had hoped you’d be there, so we could talk.”

Something in her voice made me regret having so casually dismissed the time with her. “All right. Perhaps we should talk now.”

I held out my arm for her and we began walking down the corridor. Several seconds passed when I couldn’t think of anything to say, and she seemed equally uncomfortable. Finally, she said, “You want what’s best for Carthya and so do I. Why are we so far apart?”

Because she had brought food and comfort to a man who had tried to kill me. And confided in another man who was at that moment working to take my throne.

I replaced her question with one of my own. “How was the funeral? I only heard a small part of it.”

She pressed her lips together, then said, “It was lovely. Though I must say that even if you’re angry about what your family did to you, it was terribly disrespectful not to attend.”

“I’m not angry with them, and I didn’t want to miss it.”

“Then what could possibly have taken priority? Unless you were lying somewhere half-dead, you should have been there!”

I stopped and stared at her. She tilted her head as she realized what that meant. “Oh no. Forgive me for not knowing. What are we going to do?”

She said
we
, and that stopped me for a moment. Despite her loyalties to Gregor, was it possible she wanted a stronger partnership for us?

“Before anything else, will you help Imogen?” I asked. “See that she has whatever she needs to live in comfort . . . elsewhere.”

“Please let her stay. Whatever she did to offend you, she’s still my friend, and she has nowhere else to go.”

“She cannot stay here,” I mumbled. “That decision is final.”

“But why —” Then she caught herself, as if understanding the things I could not explain. “All right. I’ll help her.”

“Send word when that’s done, and we’ll finish talking.” If nothing else, I owed her total honesty about my plans.

It was rude not to offer her an escort to Imogen’s room, but I didn’t want to go anywhere near that part of the castle tonight. So with our exchanged bows, she left in one direction and I in the other. Only seconds later, I heard Gregor’s voice near the princess. “My lady, may I see you to where you’re going?”

Amarinda cooed in delight, then accepted his offer. And with that, any goodwill between her and me vanished. If she did not seek me out later tonight, I would not find her.

Before returning to my room I stopped in the library to find some books for the trip. The castle library wasn’t my favorite place. This was because in the center of the main wall was a large portrait of my family, painted a year ago. In it, my parents sat beside each other with my brother standing behind them. After I found the books I wanted, I stared at the painting for a moment, wondering if any of them had thought about me while they posed. As often as I tried, I could not sort out my feelings about what my father had done. Did he cost me the life I should have had, or did he save my life?

It was too much, and I left the room without looking back.

I returned to my chambers as quickly as I could, where Mott was anxiously waiting for news. His eyes went to the items in my hand. I attempted to cover the title of the top book but it was too late. “Pirate books?” he said. “What are those for?”

“No, Mott.”

“I remember you telling Conner that you’re not a great reader, unless the subject interests you.”

I pushed past him. “We leave at dawn. Tobias too. Make sure he knows.”

“Where —” Mott stopped when I turned to him, then said, “Jaron, are you ill? You don’t look good.”

I slowly shook my head as I backed into my room. “No questions. Just be ready by morning.”