The Shadow Throne (3 page)

By then I had hesitated too long and Amarinda spoke first. “None of that will be necessary because Jaron will come back from this.”

“Maybe I won’t.” It was foolish to pretend otherwise. And Carthya needed a ruler. “We should marry,” I said to Amarinda. “Tonight. To preserve your reign.”

W
ith my reluctant acceptance of Kerwyn’s suggestion, all eyes went to Amarinda. She stared at me in shock, and then said quietly, “The king and I need a few minutes alone.”

With respectful bows, the room emptied. I took her hand, but stared at it rather than dare look her in the eye. Things had been so easy for us since I had returned from the pirates. But with the prospect of marriage so suddenly here, all the awkwardness had returned.

“I know this isn’t what you want, or the way you want it,” I said. “But if we don’t do this, you will become obligated to the person I choose as heir to the throne. That’s not fair to you, not again.”

“But you will return.” I shrugged in response and kept my gaze downward. With an unsteady voice, she added, “Jaron, do you expect to die in this war?”

My thumb brushed over hers. Not for the first time, I wondered how her skin could be so soft. Then I said, “With the kind of threat we’re facing, I will fight to the death before I surrender. And I don’t see a path to victory.”

“But you’ll find a way. You always do.”

“Maybe Carthya will come through this. But mine has never been the kind of life that leads to old age.” She squeezed my hand, and I added, “I know the feelings aren’t there that we’d want for a marriage. But we should make your title official.” I couldn’t help but grin. “And if I don’t return, there’ll be more room on the throne for you.”

She wasn’t amused. “Stop that! Your death is not a joke to me!” She drew in a deep breath, then continued, “Whatever feelings we share, you are important to me, and to all of Carthya.”

I appreciated that, though her words spoke all too clearly of her feelings. She had very carefully said that while we were friends, she did not love me.

Then Amarinda placed her other hand over mine. “Tell me about Roden. I know the fight between you wasn’t real.”

Amused, I arched an eyebrow. “How did you know?”

“You’re only angry with him in public. Mott knows the full story, I assume.”

“He does. And I would’ve told you, except it might have forced you to lie to the regents, and I couldn’t ask that.”

“Why did you stage that fight?”

“Someone will report it back to Vargan — maybe that’s who Conner is communicating with. If I can’t make myself look stronger than I am, then I’ll do the opposite.”

She looked frustrated with that idea, but it had worked for me before, and anyway, the time to debate the wisdom of this plan had passed. She asked, “So where is Roden, really?”

I sighed, relieved to be able to discuss this with her. And yet, speaking the words reminded me of the near impossibility of what I’d asked him to do. “He’s up north, on our border with Gelyn,” I said. “With forty of our best men, Roden’s job is to overtake Gelyn’s garrison there, then stop their army from coming through.”

“But, they’ll never succeed! Give up the border and bring Roden back. He and Mott can go after Imogen.”

I frowned. “Why not me? Why is my life more valuable than theirs?”

“The value in your lives is the same, Jaron. But not the value in your roles.” Amarinda’s grip on my hand tightened. “I think of Imogen as dearly as if she were my own sister, you know that. But if you get anywhere near that camp, you will hand yourself over to them and this war will be lost before it’s begun. It must not be you who goes.”

Her gaze bored into me until I finally looked away. She was right, and so was Mott — despite my arguing, I knew that. A pit formed in my gut at the thought of not being there to ensure Imogen was safe, but these last few weeks, I had tried to be better at taking counsel from others. It wasn’t a natural instinct to me, and the idea of having people in my life whom I could truly trust was something new. But the alternative, of acting entirely on my own judgment, had taught me several painful lessons that I had no interest in repeating. So I looked back at her and nodded. I would not go after Imogen.

Amarinda thanked me, and then smiled. “War is ahead, Jaron, and we know what risks that involves. But we must believe all will end well. Our plans for marriage will remain the same.”

I wished I could be as optimistic as her, but the reality of what lay ahead pressed in on me from every side. “No, they won’t.” I gazed steadily into her eyes, wide with concern. “I release you from the betrothal, Amarinda. You and I will still marry, but only if that’s your choice. Not because of any agreement between our two countries or any obligation you were born to fulfill, but if you can love me. However, Kerwyn was right before. Something may go wrong in this war . . . for me.”

“Then you must choose the next king.” Amarinda was trying to hide the edge in her voice, but it wasn’t working. “Am I betrothed to him now, or am I nothing to Carthya?”

Gently, I smiled at her. “You are a princess of this land, and as such, it will be your responsibility to choose the next ruler of Carthya. You can name yourself and rule alone with my official blessing.”

“The people won’t accept that.”

“But Harlowe will, if it’s my command, and where he leads the regents will follow. Besides, my lady, the people love you.” I sat back in awe of her and then chuckled at my own faults by comparison. “I daresay they’ll be relieved once you’re in charge.”

She weighed that in silence and then asked, “What if I wish to marry?”

“I ask only that you choose a husband from Carthya.” My thumb brushed over hers. “Someone who is the proper match for you.”

“And if I don’t want the crown?” she asked.

“Then you give it to anyone worthy and walk away from the throne forever.”

It was as if I had lifted a weight off her shoulders. She straightened her back and nodded. A moment of silence lapsed between us, and if I were someone with any courage I’d have sealed the agreement with a kiss. But I didn’t, and I was certain she took note of it too.

We finally stood and I offered to escort her to her apartments. But Mott was waiting at the doorway, his face pinched and grim. His arms were folded and he somehow seemed wider than usual, making it clear I wouldn’t get past him. Tobias also lingered nearby, so I asked him to see the princess to her rooms.

Even before they left, I could tell Mott was ready to scold me in the severest tones. I dreaded it, feeling as if Master Graves, my father, and the chapel priests had all combined their energies to prove once and for all how wrong I always was. “We need to talk,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t make this a fight.”

“I won’t, but you make everything a fight.”

Well, that seemed true enough. So I shrugged and let him follow me back into the throne room. When the doors were shut behind us, I turned and started to tell him of the agreement I had just made with Amarinda.

However, he was quick to cut me off. He unfolded his large hand to reveal a crumpled note tucked inside. I was relieved to recognize Roden’s stilted handwriting on an open corner of the paper. So at least he was alive, or had been when this note was written.

“When did you get that?” I asked.

“Not ten minutes ago. Roden’s messenger said he barely escaped Gelyn alive to deliver this.”

“Did you read it?”

“Yes.” By Mott’s expression, I knew the news wasn’t good. “Roden’s men successfully snuck inside Gelyn, and engaged the Gelynian army at the garrison along our shared border. Then Roden and his men set up traps that stopped most of the first wave of Gelynian soldiers that tried to come through.” Mott’s frown deepened. “He sent this note in anticipation of a second wave of soldiers. The rest are on their way.”

That could be hundreds of the enemy, or even thousands. “Does he say how many men he still has with him?”

“Eighteen.”

Eighteen out of forty. My heart ached at the thought of so much loss. And even though the men who remained would be among the finest warriors Carthya had to offer, the odds against them were terrible. It was likely that by now, none of them were still alive.

Mott handed me the note. “He asks you to bring reinforcements to join him. He believes it’s the only way they’ll succeed.”

I scanned his note for myself. Due to his uneducated background, Roden’s spelling and handwriting were poor, but in this case I was grateful for the errors. It proved that this note had come directly from his hand. “The captain asks me to
send
reinforcements, not bring them. You’d rather I go into battle against thousands of Gelynians than to the camp where Imogen is being held?”

“No. I’d rather you hid yourself in a closet until this is over. But I know from experience that even with our best locks, we couldn’t keep you there.” There was some teasing in his voice, but after a moment’s hesitation, Mott became serious again. “They could only have one reason to take Imogen, because they knew you would come for her. Jaron, whatever they have planned, it will be awful. So if it must be one or the other, then, yes, I’d rather you go to Gelyn.”

Fortunately, my decision was already made, or else I’d have had to argue, just for the sake of pride. But I only said, “All right, Mott. You win this time, but don’t let it become a habit.” Then, with my heart pounding, I added, “Promise me that Imogen —”

“I can’t promise anything other than to do my best.” Nervously, he licked his lips. “And you promise me —”

“I can’t do that either.” I forced a grim smile to my face. “But one way or another, we will see this war to an end. We must.”

T
he following morning, a regiment of two hundred men left Drylliad for the northern border of Gelyn. I wished I could’ve sent more, but other men were needed in the south to meet the advancing armies of Mendenwal, and a third contingent was sent to oversee the mighty waters of Falstan Lake, while the rest remained here in defense of the capital. What strength Carthya had was already being divided, and our resources were taxed to their limits. Though I stood tall and proud as I watched them leave, in my heart, I still doubted that we had any chance of survival.

Once they had gone, I joined Tobias, Amarinda, and Fink in the courtyard. My plan was to travel with them to the border of Avenia, to ensure their safety at least that far. Then I would take my horse, Mystic, on to Gelyn from there and hope the devils gave them clearance until the princess was safe in her home country.

The escape carriage was being loaded with clothing, blankets, and food. Tobias cocked his head toward the crates and said, “At least we won’t be cold or hungry on this journey.”

A mischievous grin tugged at my mouth. “We won’t be cold, but I’d advise against eating the food. Today’s recipes included an extra ingredient of Ayagall.” His groans told me that Tobias knew the plant as well as I did. Ayagall was a weed that grew plentifully near the orphanage where I’d lived, and was the source of many a lively joke when orphanage life grew dull. Even small amounts guaranteed a full day’s vomiting. Suddenly, the mystery of why Mrs. Turbeldy hated me so much was solved.

Despite her attempts to remain serious, Amarinda giggled. “Avenia thinks they’re battling a king. I doubt they’re prepared to fight a boy who thinks childish pranks are practical strategies for war.”

“Aren’t they?” I said, giving a wink and a smile to Fink, who was already laughing.

Once the carriage was loaded, Amarinda, Fink, Tobias, and I crowded inside. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable trip, but if they were stopped at the border, this had to look like a transport wagon, unfit for passengers and certainly unfit for the future queen of the land. Amarinda and I sat beside each other on a small bench at the far end of the carriage, while Fink and Tobias took the floor across from us.

Fink immediately started chatting with Tobias, who told him to hush no less than twenty times before the gates of Drylliad were behind us. I wasn’t sure why he bothered. Keeping Fink from asking questions was like holding back the sea. He talked whenever he was nervous, or excited, or bored, or for that matter, awake. Eventually, Tobias gave up pretending to listen and just stared forward. His anxiety was evident in his every expression, every movement, and grew worse with each mile.

I noticed Amarinda smiling back at him, hoping to give him confidence in all that would have to happen over the next several hours. He warmed to that and smiled back. I watched the silent exchange, but noticed his eyes linger on her long after she turned away. Of course they would. Amarinda grew more beautiful by the day. Even a blind man would’ve noticed it too.

Eventually, Fink ran out of questions and grew as silent as the rest of us. I almost wished he would’ve continued talking, for the silent carriage felt almost haunted afterward. My mind was no clearer than it had been a day ago, and I was struggling to focus on any one problem facing us without a hundred others begging my attention first. The strain of it made me want to walk or climb or do something other than sit in a crowded carriage as it bumped along a dusty road.

Just to give myself some movement, I stretched out my legs and arms. Sensing my discomfort, Amarinda grabbed my hand and intertwined her fingers with mine. Then she said, “Once the three of us get past the border, it’s only a few days to Bymar. If you can hold Gelyn back until then, my people will come to help you.”

“I wish you were coming with us, Jaron.” Fink looked down, but his head wasn’t lowered for long before he looked up again and said, “I heard Kerwyn wanted you and the princess to get married. Why didn’t you?”

I wasn’t sure who had told him that, but clearly one of the servants attending to that room talked too much. I started to scold him for such a question, but Amarinda laughed and said, “Clearly, you know nothing about a girl’s wedding day. If I’m at the altar with Jaron as he rides off to war, what part of his horse do you suppose I’ll end up kissing?”

She looked at me and smiled, and I began laughing at the image. Fink joined us too, which only made it seem funnier. But from the corner of my eye, I saw Tobias looking down at his clasped hands, watching his thumbs rotate.

“The escape carriage will work,” I assured him. “Cheer up.”

His smile back at me was hopeful, but vacant. Something else was bothering him, but obviously nothing that could be shared here.

It wasn’t much farther on before our driver called down to us that the road into Avenia was shortly ahead. I ordered him to stop where we wouldn’t be noticed, and once there, we exited the carriage. We emptied enough of the crates to pry up the false floor. The space inside was smaller than I’d imagined it would be, but if it was any larger, it would’ve been noticeable from the outside.

“This won’t fit the three of you,” I told Tobias.

Tobias quietly gestured toward Fink, reminding me that at the last minute I’d insisted he must come along too. Even if the space could’ve been made larger, there had been no time to change the design.

“It will have to fit us,” Amarinda said.

“I’ll stay out, if necessary,” Tobias offered. “Our priority is the princess’s safety, and Fink can guide her through Avenia toward Bymar.”

“No,” Amarinda said. “A way must be found for us all to get through that border.”

“I’ll stay out,” Fink said. We put up a protest, but above our voices, he added, “I’m Avenian, and I’m young. They won’t see me as a threat.” He turned to me. “Jaron, you know I’m right.”

A lump formed in my throat. “You’re the closest thing I have to family, Fink.”

Something glimmered in his eyes. “Then that makes me a prince . . . almost. If the king risks everything for Carthya, then I should too.”

Difficult as it was, I nodded my permission at him, and then said, “Avenia will search this carriage. Tell them the driver allowed you to ride in here on your way home. Make sure they notice the crate of wine, but tell them it’s strong and they shouldn’t take it.”

“That’ll only make them more determined to take it.” Then Amarinda’s face lit up when she understood. “More Ayagall?”

“They’ll be sick for a week.”

Tobias climbed inside the carriage first, and maneuvered his body to make room for the princess.

“I may have come to Carthya because of a promise and a treaty,” she whispered, “but I will return again because my heart remains here.”

“Then I will see you soon.” I kissed Amarinda’s cheek and embraced her warmly. When we parted, I attempted to calm the worry in her eyes with a smile and assurance that all was well, though I admit, I wasn’t entirely certain of that myself.

I helped her into the carriage, although it was necessary for her to cradle closely into Tobias for them to fit, with his arm outstretched for a more comfortable place to rest her head. There was no way Fink would have fit in there too.

Once they were in, I reminded Tobias of his sacred obligation to protect Amarinda, with his life if necessary. He promised to do his best, but never looked at me as he spoke. Perhaps he was uncomfortable in such a tight and awkward position. Or, I wondered, maybe his discomfort came from the other body so intimately fit against his. In an emergency, Tobias could release another door beneath them, but until then, the false floor was placed over the top of them and the crates were replaced.

Fink stopped before climbing in and turned back to me. “Jaron, I’m scared.”

Considering the danger involved in this next phase of his journey, I understood how he felt. But I also had an idea how to help with that, something I’d considered doing for a while anyway. I withdrew my sword and stood tall. “Kneel,” I commanded him.

He stared up at me, confused, until I motioned for him to fall to his knees. When he did, with my sword I touched on his right shoulder and then his left. “As king of Carthya, and the head of the house of Artolius, I dub you, Fink, into my house, and as a knight of the kingdom.”

“Really?” His smile grew wider than I’d ever seen it. “I’ll be a good knight.”

As he rose to his feet, I sheathed my sword. “The actual ceremony is longer, but I doubt you could sit through the whole thing anyway. This will have to do for now. You are charged with protecting a princess. She needs you to be strong, and I know you will be. Get her home safe, and don’t be afraid.”

“I’m glad you made me a knight, but that’s not what I meant before,” he said. “When I said I was scared, Jaron, I’m scared for you.”

I had not expected that. The fear in my heart was for Carthya, and for those around me who were in so much danger. But perhaps I was afraid for myself as well. I told him to be brave enough for us both. Then I shut the door and ordered the driver to move on. Once they drove away, I climbed on Mystic’s back and rode to where I could view the carriage for as long as possible. Eventually it vanished and the dust settled. Their next stop would be at the border of Avenia, directly under the watchful eye of soldiers who could reap untold rewards for capturing the princess. Amarinda’s fate now lay with a regent who couldn’t wield a sword against his own shadow, and a young knight who could barely lift a sword with both hands.