The Twelve Kingdoms (16 page)

Well trained and obedient to his will, we all stood, cheering and applauding. Harlan put a hand to cup my elbow, though I thought sure I didn't sway on my feet.

Sometimes, not only was retreat impossible, but the press of the enemy became so great that there was nothing to do but endure the onslaught. Praying to survive to fight another day. At last we sat again.

“She should have the royal jewels, don't you think, Daughter?” Uorsin gave me a boyish grin, full of lethal pleasure. “Since you were so good to remind me of them.”

“Of course,” I managed to say, amazed that I kept my voice steady. “I shall bring them to court in the morning.”

“Oh.” Illyria pouted. It should have been pretty. I'd seen Amelia pouch her lips the same way a thousand times, always with devastating effectiveness. On Illyria, it made my skin crawl. As if by holding her mouth that way, something awful might come slithering out. “I'd so hoped to have them now—to celebrate.”

“You shall have them, my love.” Uorsin lifted her hand to his lips and kissed that white skin, which I more than half expected to sizzle at the touch. Over his bent head, she smiled at me, and I realized how hard I gripped the hilt of my sword.

Retreat, retreat, retreat. The alarm claxon sounded in my head, and I stood so abruptly the backs of my knees banged the chair. “I'll go get them.”

“Don't be silly,” she cooed. “Send one of your ladies to fetch them. We have so much to discuss.” Then she clapped a hand over her heart, in apparent feminine distress. “Oh! Forgive me. Do you not have any ladies-in-waiting? I know you're not much for womanly ways.”

Her dead eyes burned through me and the sound of all those songs and jokes chorused up around my ears. I wanted to hunch my shoulders to keep them out.
More like a sword than a woman.

“Here is Lady Mailloux, Your Highness.” Captain Harlan's deep voice broke the spell, and I felt like the mouse fleeing the snake's hypnotic gaze. He gave me that calm, deceptively placid look. Backing me in the fight. No friend of Illyria's, he. Something to remember, if I could trust it.

Dafne curtsied, the picture of elegant grace. “I shall retrieve the rubies immediately, Your Highness.”

“Thank you,” I told her, infusing the words with all my appreciation for her support and craftiness. Illyria would have seen only the rubies, as I'd foolishly worn them that first night, and Uorsin was not a man to remember all of my mother's jewels.

“This is so delightful.” Illyria clapped like a girl a third her age and Uorsin smiled dotingly on her. “Shall we have a special feast, too? To celebrate our engagement!”

“Of course. Whatever you desire shall be yours.” Uorsin waved a hand, willing the feast to materialize.

Oh, Danu. Each minute spiraled into another level of disaster. My back ached and a headache throbbed low at the base of my skull.

“Perhaps we should order the engagement feast for tomorrow night.” I tried to keep my tone light, enthusiastic. “That will give us the opportunity to prepare something truly extraordinary for you.” Or anything at all.

“Oh, but the dashing Captain Harlan leaves on the morrow and I know he wants to be here to enjoy the celebration.”

Harlan nodded to her, the picture of politeness, forever inscrutable, but I began to know him well enough to sense his tension.

“The servants already carry out the supper platters,” I persisted. Underscoring my words, a great platter of meat was set before the King.

Illyria frowned at it. “Why, this looks like an ordinary meal. Not special at all.”

Never mind that we ate a hundred times better than ninety-nine percent of the rest of the Twelve tonight, Ambassador Laurenne glowered from her table. How to save this situation? “To prepare a great feast—”

“Of course we'll have the feast now,” Uorsin assured her, giving me an angry glare. “Do you insinuate, Daughter, that Ordnung, seat of my power, the crown of the Twelve Kingdoms, cannot provide a worthy celebration at a moment's notice?” He laughed, with a cruel edge. “I suppose that, if the Tala attacked, you'd ask them politely to wait until tomorrow night, also?”

Illyria laughed gaily, pressing a palm to his cheek. “Oh, my lord King—so witty you are!”

“Send back those platters!” Uorsin called out, waving his goblet so the ruby wine splashed on the white table covering, like fresh blood on snow. “Bring out a feast worthy of my bride-to-be!”

The servants took the platters and scuttled back to the kitchens—in some cases pulling plates away from people who'd already begun to eat—and the room fell into uneasy muttering. The minutes stretched out. I sipped my wine, thinking what to do. My earlier analogy of the King being like the drought haunted me. How to handle this?

“Send out the cook!” Uorsin commanded. “We shall tell her what we want.”

The headache rose to circle my eyes.
Think, Ursula.

Madeline emerged, stately and composed, curtsying before the King. “How may I serve you, High King?” she asked in a clear voice. The cabochon topaz, hot from my hand, pressed smooth into my palm.

“What will you have, my love?” Uorsin asked Illyria.

“Lobster!” she declared. “And duck in pastry. Flavored ices, too, don't you think?”

“Whatever pleases you. It shall be done.” He waved a hand in that imperious way of his, and Madeline, to her vast credit, barely blinked.

“My King,” I said quietly, unable to think of any other way to salvage the situation. “We'd have to acquire lobster from Koon-celund or the Isles of Remus. It would take days to—”

“Silence!” Uorsin's hand pounded flat on the table with such force that my goblet turned over, adding to the spill of growing red. “Do you say”—he turned his glare on Madeline as if I hadn't spoken—“that Ordnung is unprepared?”

She didn't flick an eye at me. Simply sank to her knees and bowed her head. “The fault is mine, High King. I cannot do as you require.”

The vast room went still, apprehension thick as smoke in the air.

“Do I ask so much?” Uorsin's quiet words fell, stones crashing to the marble. “I am Uorsin, High King, Uniter of the Twelve Kingdoms, and I cannot give my chosen bride a simple meal.”

Madeline remained where she was. Across the hall, Dafne froze in the doorway, the rubies glittering in her hands.

“Send for the executioner,” Uorsin growled.

Someone sobbed. Not me. I was made of ice. My thoughts frozen. I had to stop this, somehow.

I opened my mouth, willing Danu to give me the words, but Harlan put a hand on my knee under the table, squeezing in warning. The executioner strode in, wearing his black hood, carrying his great axe.

“Behead this miserable excuse for a cook.” Uorsin pointed at Madeline.

The room seemed to take a long, slow spin. The topaz burned fire into my palm. I shook off Harlan's hand. That was the coward's way. Madeline was mine to protect.

“High King Uorsin,” I began, “perhaps exile would—”

The back of his fist crashed against my face, shattering my nose. My head snapped back, hitting the metal-inlaid back of the chair so hard my vision went momentarily black. Blood poured down my throat, turning my stomach, and bright tears filled my eyes. I scrambled to orient, wondering why my head took so long to clear, how everything had so suddenly spiraled out of all control.

The executioner strode forward and with a casual swing of his axe lopped off Madeline's head where she knelt. Blood poured out on the golden marble, red as the spilled wine, as the bright spatters on my pink gown, as that day on Odfell's pass when Hugh's wasted death stained the pristine snow. Several ladies fainted, and more than one person retched. I made a sound, the surprised oomph of a gut-wounded warrior.

“You were saying, Daughter?” Uorsin smiled at me. Daring me.

“Nothing, my King.” My voice came out in a croak, and Illyria, who'd been staring avidly at the pooling blood below us, turned to give me a smile also. And licked her lips.

“Are those my jewels?” She pointed at Dafne in the doorway.

Suddenly terrified to bring anyone else into range, I struggled to stand. “Yes. I'll get them for you.”

“Let me, Your Highness.” Harlan pressed something cool into my hand. “You spilled your wine.” His eyes held that same warning, as if we waited together in ambush, the enemy creeping closer.
Stay calm. Stay steady.
I pressed the damp cloth to my nose and mouth, pinching into the pain to stop the flow of blood.

He strode across the hall, an imposing figure, took the jewels from Dafne, and dismissed her so neatly it seemed planned. Returning to me, he placed the box before me and opened it, as if asking for my approval. The rubies. A few other things. Not all of it. Dafne should have brought them all. I didn't care about the jewels.

They didn't matter. If Uorsin noticed, I would say I'd hidden the rest, for fear of theft. And then I'd go get them and tell Dafne to run. I'd rather he cleave my head from my shoulders. Far more bearable than watching Dafne die, too. “Your Highness?” Harlan inquired with grave courtesy.

“Thank you, Captain,” I managed. “The jewels, my King.”

I waited, too full of sapping grief to be tense, as he presented them to Illyria. She cooed happily, adorning herself with Salena's jewels. My vision fogged and I pinched my broken nose, staunching the blood and using the pain to keep myself alert.

“But there's something missing.” Illyria sounded disappointed. And accusing.

Oh, Danu. I cleared my throat of blood.

“The Star of Annfwn,” Illyria continued. “It should be here.”

Uorsin frowned. Anger rising. Not for me, though. Not this time. “We don't speak that word in this court.”

Illyria hesitated slightly. Laid a hand on his cheek. “But, my love, I—”

“There is no such thing,” he thundered, anger spilling out. “I would have had it, if so.” He pulled her to her feet and lifted her in his arms. “Since there is no meal forthcoming and you have your engagement and your jewels, I'll have what you promised me.”

She giggled, ringing false to my ears—and her dead gaze caught and held on mine. For once, though, Uorsin did me a favor, ignoring her laughing protests, and carried her off.

Leaving a dead body and a horrified court in his wake.

“C
ome, Your Highness.” Harlan cupped my elbow still, urging me to stand, his deep voice grim. “You need tending.”

“Wait.” I stopped him. Madeline's first assistant stood riveted by the doors to the kitchens, staring at the headless body, white-faced and shaking. “Lise!” I spoke sharply to cut through her shock. Out of habitual obedience, she hastened to me.

“Your Highness.” She wiped tears away, immediately replaced by a fresh flow. “I don't know what to—”

“People need feeding. Not here. I'll have the Hawks take care of Madeline and clean up. Send the word round that everyone can dine in chambers if they can stomach it. Plate up what you were planning to serve. Any delicacies that can be created quickly should be sent to the High King. Can you handle that? I need you to maintain.”

“My men will help clear the hall and notify everyone,” Harlan added, and I didn't protest. Lise nodded and fled to the kitchens. Servants, mercenaries, and pages moved out, speaking to the ambassadors and courtiers and shaking them from their stunned silence. Gradually they rose, filtering out of the hall. Marskal, as ever alert, had already moved forward with a detail to retrieve Madeline's body, his quiet face filled with regret.

“Captain,” he said under his breath, “we're packing to flee. We await your word.”

Harlan, still holding my elbow, gave no indication he heard, though he had to have.

“I'll let you know my status,” I answered.

“Come, Your Highness,” Harlan repeated, and this time I let him lead me from the hall.

We didn't speak on the way to my rooms. The halls were distressingly empty, a pall hanging over Ordnung. A team of my Hawks guarded my chambers, crisply saluting me, faces grim. Dafne sprang up when we entered.

“I have a washbasin and ice ready,” she said, and Harlan guided me to where she directed. I trailed along dumbly, the image of Madeline's blood pouring across the floor bright in my mind. She'd trusted me and I'd failed her. I might as well have wielded the axe myself. No one was safe if I had no power to protect them. I had no power to save any of them—not the starving, not the plague ridden. I was down to rescuing one person at a time, but by Danu I'd do at least that much.

“Run,” I told Dafne. “I'll send a few of the Hawks with you. Go prepare your things.” I glared at Harlan, daring him to object to their escape.

“We'll discuss it. Sit,” Dafne said.

I was about to remind her who gave the orders when Harlan pressed me into the chair and Dafne replaced the pressure of my hand with an ice-filled cloth, making my eyes water anew. “Tip your head back. How badly is she hurt?”

“He broke her nose, I'm sure of it,” Harlan replied. “Probably concussion, as hard as her head hit the chair. Her eyes aren't focusing right.”

“I'm fine.” I gasped as Dafne fingered the back of my head and laid more ice on the lump forming there. “I've had worse injuries.”

“Good.” Harlan moved in front of me, peeling the bloody cloth away and grabbing a new one from Dafne's pile, pressing it into my hand. “Then you'll stay steady for me to straighten your nose.”

“Do you have to?” Dafne sounded appalled.

“Better to do it now, before she swells.” He put a hand behind my neck and reached for my nose. I stopped him by grabbing his wrist. Harlan simply raised an eyebrow at me. “Can't have a broken nose marring your lovely face, Ursula. Bear with it a moment more.”

I laughed without humor at his joke, the blood thick in my throat. “Fix it,” I croaked. Crooked noses made it hard to breathe.

Holding my gaze, he laid thumb and forefinger on either side of the bridge of my nose.

Then yanked.

A bright flash of pain. A sharp cry and blood gushed out of me. I clapped the clean cloth over my nose and mouth to staunch both.

And found myself sobbing.

Pain, grief, and guilt wrenched at me, convulsive. I tried to hold it all in. Failed utterly. I could no more stop the fountain of it than I could the bright red blood.

Strong arms came around me. I pulled away, but they tightened. “It's okay, Ursula.” Harlan's deep voice stroked my shattered nerves. “Let it out. Let me help you.”

“I fell apart,” I gasped, choking over the tears and blood and sheer horror of it all. “She was my friend and I let her die. I couldn't stop any of it. I'm worthless.”

“No. Never that.” His chest rumbled under my ear as he murmured that and other soothing nonsense.

The paroxysm lessened and I gradually managed to get ahold of myself. “I'm all right,” I told him, pulling away.

He let me that time, moving to a chair across from me, then handing over a wet cloth. I wiped my face with it, hissing at the painful swelling around my broken nose. Dipping the cloth in the basin of water, I saw the blood eddy out, rustier now. The dregs of my tears added no color. Physical injuries leave evidence where emotional ones don't. When the cloth washed clean, Harlan handed me the ice again. We seemed to be alone. Now that I'd recovered from my outburst, embarrassment crawled up my spine. How weak he'd think me.

“Thank you,” I said, meaning for all of it. Wishing I could tell him he could go without sounding ungracious.

“I'm sorry about your mother's jewels.”

“Things. Only things.”
At least she didn't have the Star
. “Where did Dafne go?”

“She's giving you a bit of privacy.”

“I notice you're still here.”

“Yes.”

Apparently I didn't get that much privacy. “She needs to flee. It's not safe for her to stay in Ordnung. I can't watch another—” Danu help me, I still had no equilibrium. My voice caught on the prospect of watching Dafne die, too. “Tell me your men won't prevent that.”

“She's packing for you both. We'll leave as soon as you're ready.”

I gaped at him, my brain still far behind. “I'm not going anywhere. I can't leave. The King specifically forbade me.”

He sighed, the first sign of real impatience I'd seen from him, and braced his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. Such big hands. Fiercely strong, rough with calluses, yet amazingly gentle when he'd comforted me.

“Ursula.” He said it sharply enough to get my attention. “You're in shock and your head is swimming with concussion, but
you
cannot stay in Ordnung.”

“You heard him.” Was that voice mine? I sounded ten again. No, five, and he'd shattered the teacups. I struggled to drag my thoughts back, to focus. I set the ice down, tired of holding it.

“He'll kill you next. Do you understand me? Illyria will see to it. We must go now, tonight, while they're occupied with each other and before he thinks to change my orders. This is our window of opportunity. It might be the last one.”

“I cannot fail the Twelve Kingdoms by running. And I cannot defy the King's will. I'm honor bound to stay.” I knew that much.

Harlan took a cloth, dipped it into the water, and began cleaning the blood from my hands. So much blood. “You owe it to the Twelve Kingdoms to get out with your life,” he said quietly. “Your people will look to you to save them in the days ahead. They love you. You are their hero—we all can see it. You cannot be that, however, if you get yourself killed. You are still the only viable heir. Protect yourself as such.”

It sounded so unlikely. Ridiculous, even, that they'd love someone so weak and foolish. The mercenary sought to flatter me, yet again. “Some hero I am. Nearly knocked unconscious while waiting for dinner. I couldn't even block a lousy sucker punch.”

“You didn't try.”

“What?”

“Ursula.” He tossed the bloodied cloth aside and took my hands. “I sat right next to you and saw the whole thing. You're one of the fastest fighters I've ever seen and you didn't raise a hand to stop him.”

“He's the King.”

“For a smart woman you have a huge blind spot when it comes to your father.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, pulled my hands away, and stood. Then had to brace myself on the back of the chair, my head swam so. He might be right about the concussion. “Not blindness. Loyalty. Something you wouldn't understand, mercenary.”

He shook his head. “We're not having this conversation right now. Regardless of all else, we need to flee.”

“I think you're right about Illyria. She must have him under some kind of spell. Influencing his mind. That's the only way this makes sense. I need to talk to him, find a way to get through to him.”

“What is this Star of Annfwn?” Harlan asked suddenly. Hoping to trip me up?

I resisted, barely, putting my hand protectively over the gemstone, and shrugged, not trusting my voice.

“Your Highness.” Harlan sounded entirely out of patience now. “Part of my contract is protecting you as part of the royal family. I can't leave Ordnung knowing you to be in grave peril, if only from the Mistress of Deyrr. It would be smartest to take this thing she wants out of her reach. But, regardless, you're coming with me whether you wish to or not. If necessary, I'll get your Hawks to help. They see the need to flee, even if you don't.”

“Is that so? Do you plan to knock me over the head and carry me bodily out of the castle? If you think that, you'll get this fight you've been spoiling for.”

He cracked a grin. “In your current condition I might pull it off, but it would be far from the test of skill I want. Don't make it come to that. You know I'm right. You can meet up with your sisters, assure yourself of the youngest's safety, secure the next generation of heirs—more important now than ever—and make a plan of action with them. Perhaps take this ‘star' back to Annfwn.”

“Even if you're right—which I don't agree that you are—I can't violate the King's law and my father's directive. Neither can you, as your contract explicitly states that you must uphold the King's law.”

“It also states that we are here to uphold the peace of the Twelve Kingdoms and protect the royal family from all threats. I interpret that to take precedence in this case.”

“Honor is not a matter of interpretation! You can't bend the rules to suit the desire of the moment.”

“You do.”

“Thrice-damned if I do!”

“You lie to me without blinking. Is that honorable? You bent your precious rules for your sisters, didn't you?” He glowered at me. “If you'd followed the King's edicts, you would have brought Queen Andromeda back from the Tala border or killed one of you trying. And you would have brought your infant nephew here with or without Princess Amelia's agreement. Don't you sneer down your broken nose at me, Your Highness. At least I'm honest about my choices.”

My legs felt weak and my head mucky. Easing myself around the desk, I sat. Then, giving up all pretense of pretending my skull wasn't pounding, I dropped my face in my hands. Danu, how could this mercenary be so right? Misstep after misstep. “I can't think.”

“You don't have to.” He'd followed me, and his hand brushed over my hair. Then he pressed the ice into my hand. “Let me take care of things. Just for the next few hours. You're injured. Your life has turned upside down. No one expects you to handle every damn thing, Ursula.”

“I expect it.” My voice had no strength, though. “If I don't have my honor, I'm nothing.”

“That's not true. You have everything you are. Heir to the Twelve Kingdoms. So many people are counting on you. Right now, you have one responsibility: live to fight another day.”

“He's right, Your Highness,” came Dafne's voice. “Please listen.”

I raised my head to find her just inside the doorway, face pale and eyes dark.

“I did what I thought best for my sisters at the time, yes. But I wasn't going directly against my father. Walking a fine line, maybe.” I glared at Harlan, who only smiled, thin lipped. “But now you both stand there and ask me to betray my King, to abandon him when he's under threat. That's a big, fat line to cross.”

“If he's under Illyria's influence as you suspect, then he's compromised,” Harlan pointed out. “That's not a betrayal, but a strategic retreat.”

“Surely that's part of your ethic,” he pressed.

“Retreat and regroup,” I said, feeling dulled by it all. Could he be right? Or was I rationalizing because I so badly wanted out of this imprisonment and to get to Ami? I rubbed my temples, which did nothing to relieve my headache. Or heartache.

“That's right, Ursula. Retreat and regroup.” He stroked my hair. “Did you get the remaining jewels?” Asking Dafne, not me.

“Everything I could find. I don't know if any would fit the definition of a star. I did pack up what books and scrolls I could on the Tala and Annfwn—we might find something in there.”

“I hate to leave anything within Illyria's reach that could give her more power. And she's unlikely to want something so much for any other reason.”

I levered myself to my feet. “Don't worry about it. I know where it is. I have it.” I returned Harlan's accusing glare evenly. “It will be safe.”

“Fine.” Harlan nodded, accepting my word for it. A faith in me I didn't understand. “And your decision?”

Closing my eyes, I sent a brief prayer to Danu for guidance. Once upon a time, everything had been so clear, so simple. Or had that, too, been an illusion? “We go to Annfwn. If it will have us.”