Too Many Princes (82 page)

“
Shaelen?
”
Therula turned, hoping the Urulai woman would refute her, but the door to the corridor was closed.

Trying to hide her fear, Therula pushed through the crowded room. She had trouble getting into the hallway because it was full of Pikarus's men. Barrels and spare furniture were stacked high in a barricade. The gleam of polished wood and fine fabric seemed out of place beside crates full of turnips and cabbages.

“
Princess, stay inside,
”
Javes began.

“
Where's Pikarus?
”
Therula asked, but she did stop in the doorway.

“
Here.
”
The reply drifted to her through a wall of armored men.

“
I saw them,
”
Therula called. She tried to stay calm, not just blurt it out like Cliodora would.
“
They're wearing our uniforms!
”

Javes's expression remained grim, but he didn't seem surprised.

“
Ysislaw's brought in his own men,
”
Pikarus answered.
“
We knew from what Brastigan told us.
”

“
Did you see how many?
”
Javes asked.

“
About thirty.
”
Therula felt a little better that she could help at least this much.
“
Some of them stayed at the gate. And you should know, they've shut us in. Even if Garican figures out what's happening, he'll have to fight through them before he can help us.
”

The soldiers nearby exchanged grim glances. These odds weren't in their favor. They all heard the tramp of armored footsteps approaching.

“
Get back inside,
”
Pikarus said.
“
Keep everybody calm, but block the doors.
”

“
I will.
”
Therula shut the door with ominous footsteps thrumming in her ears.

Once again, all eyes were on Therula as she slipped back into the queen's chamber. She reflected on the grim reality as she bolted the door. This room held only women. There were no men at all. If Pikarus fell, they had only themselves to rely on. Therula wished her mother would come back, but Alustra was still in Oskar's room.

“
We will barricade this door,
”
Therula announced. She gestured to the servants.
“
Bring those beds over here.
”

Moments of chaos followed as the servants hurried forward to obey. One of the older women, Giselle, took charge and started them all pushing Alustra's armoire toward the door. It was the largest piece of furniture, and heavy with the clothing inside. Claw feet moaned in protest as they moved it. The remaining courtiers and princesses stood back, murmuring among themselves.

Therula jumped as muffled shouts came from the hallway behind her. There was a great clatter, like hailstones against the window, but she knew it was the beat of steel on steel. Everyone froze for a moment. Then the servants redoubled their efforts, stacking temporary beds in the front of the armoire.

“
What if they come in here?
”
Cliodora quavered, clinging to Casiana, who looked nearly as frightened.
“
What can we do?
”

Therula didn't know how to answer. What
were
they supposed to do, if Pikarus and his men failed?

“
Grab something heavy,
”
Diona answered darkly.

Then, through the hurry and noise, she caught a furtive movement. The door to Oskar's chamber had just been open. It closed slowly, as if someone wished to avoid being seen. Therula felt her heart skip again. Her eyes darted, searching the throng. She didn't see her mother coming into the room with news. Margura wasn't there, either.

For moment, Therula felt foolish for her anxiety. Margura was Alustra's attendant. She might have gone in to tell the queen what was happening. Besides, her link with Oskar was clear enough.

Then Therula swallowed heavily. Margura's link was with the
other
Oskar—the pretender. That must be what Shaelen had meant.

“
Sister?
”
Cliodora asked again.

“
In a minute,
”
Therula called over her shoulder. She ran to the connecting door. Resisting the urge to fling it wide, she opened it just enough to see through.

Except for the thunder of battle just outside, the room was very quiet. Oskar lay on the grand bed. Pillows propped him up. The glow of many candles gave his face the look of parchment, so pale and lined. Alustra stood on the opposite side of the bed, hands clenched at her sides. Margura was there, as Therula had suspected. She held a basket, and was just rising from a curtsey.

“
I don't know, madam,
”
Margura said demurely, apparently answering a question from Alustra.

It all seemed innocent, yet Therula found herself stiff-legged with rage as she stalked into the room.

“
I do,
”
Therula said. Her voice was brittle.
“
They are Silletsians, disguised as our own men. Pikarus and his squad are holding them off.
”

“
Silletsians,
”
Oskar said bitterly. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if the candlelight troubled him. Alustra looked as if she had something to say, but held her peace.

Meanwhile, Margura bent forward over her basket. She drew a dark green bottle from its depths and poured a flagon, which she offered to Oskar.

“
Drink this, your majesty,
”
she murmured soothingly.
“
You will feel better.
”

“
What is that?
”
Therula demanded.

With gentle patience, Margura said,
“
I have merely brought a share of the food the staff provided. I thought his majesty might like some breakfast.
”

Therula stared at Margura, trying to find something sinister in her words.

“
Close the door, daughter,
”
Alustra murmured tightly.

Frustrated, Therula turned to obey. Looking toward the door, she realized this room was unprotected if the enemy broke through. Maybe that was something she could use, Therula thought. Bring in a bunch of servants to block the door, and Margura couldn't do whatever it was she had planned.

“
Mother, we should
—
.
”
Therula began. Then she saw Oskar listlessly accept Margura's cup. He raised it to his lips.
“
No!
”

Startled, Alustra and Margura turned to Therula. She ran to the bedside.

“
Don't drink it!
”
Therula cried.
“
You can't trust her!
”

Oskar swallowed what was in his mouth.
“
Of course I can,
”
he answered with a shadow of his former arrogance.
“
Margura works for me, dear sister.
”

Alustra began to scold,
“
Therula...
”

“
Oskar, listen to me.
”
Therula trembled, controlling the impulse to slap the green bottle out of Margura's hand.
“
You cannot trust this woman. She serves the enemy!
”

Margura ignored Therula. She offered Alustra a second flagon.
“
Your majesty?
”

Alustra didn't take it. She stared at Margura, perhaps wondering if her loyal attendant could really be a traitor.

“
Think, Mother,
”
Therula urged.
“
As soon as Father was gone, she turned to Oskar. I'll bet they were very close.
”
Therula glared at her brother. Oskar sat still. The flagon Margura had given him was poised at his lips.

“
Then somehow Oskar was replaced,
”
Therula went on,
“
and she started telling you how
old
you were, that nobody needed you. She kept you in your rooms, all to help the usurper push you out of public view.
”

“
Your highness is overwrought,
”
Margura reasoned.
“
You speak without thinking.
”

“
I do not,
”
Therula faltered, a weak rejoinder. She longed to shout that Margura had been with Brastigan as soon as he returned, and he had been in chains before the day was out. She swallowed those words, knowing it would be a mistake to mention any of their half-brothers.

“
Your majesty,
”
Margura turned, appealing to king and queen as one.
“
I beg you not to listen to this. Can you truly credit me with such sinister designs?
”

“
I don't know what to think,
”
Oskar said. He sounded very tired as he put Margura's flagon down on a bedside table.

“
In his hour of emergency, can you afford to take chances?
”
Alustra asked with cool pragmatism.

“
No,
”
Oskar agreed. His expression was set.
“
Leave us, Margura.
”

“
Your majesty!
”
Margura gasped. Trembling, she clutched the flagon Alustra hadn't taken in one hand and the empty bottle in the other.

“
Come, you heard the king.
”
Therula spoke sharply in her relief.
“
Out with you!
”

Therula reached for Margura's elbow, prepared to pull her away, but Margura whirled and dashed the contents of the flagon right in Therula's face.

“
Oh!
”
Whatever was in the glass, it burned Therula's eyes like fire. She blotted her face with her sleeve and cleared her eyes just in time to see Margura swing the empty bottle at Alustra's head. There was a horrible thud. Alustra fell to her knees with a groan.

“
Mother!
”
Oskar struggled to get out of the bed, but he was too weak to rise.

“
Stop!
”
Therula cried. She lunged at Margura, trying to grab her arm.

Again, Margura was too fast. She whirled and struck at Therula. Therula yelped and tried to jump back, but she was too slow. The bottle caught her above the left eye. A dull thump and terrible pain filled her head. She felt as if her skull had split. Therula stumbled backward and fell over Oskar's bed. She lay still for a moment, clinging to consciousness. Faintly, she heard another thump nearby, and a cry that sounded like Oskar's voice.

Therula forced her eyes to open. She gathered her hands beneath her to push up off the bed. Alustra lay face down. Dark fluid pooled around her head. Her arms and legs were oddly twisted beneath her. Oskar lay against the pillows, semi-conscious. His eyes flickered, while crimson trickled from a livid weal across his forehead. Margura was bent over, reaching into her basket.

As Therula watched, the traitress pushed aside the rolls and cheese. She straightened with a knife in her hand.