The False Prince (24 page)

C
onner’s plan was for Cregan to drive him and me directly to the castle in time for the announcement. I argued that Tobias, Roden, and Imogen should come with us, but Conner expressly forbade it. So I nodded at Imogen, and then shook hands with Roden.

“It’s not too late to back out.” Roden’s grip was powerful. “You never wanted this.”

“No, I never did.” We had no disagreement there. “But this is my future, not yours.”

A flash of anger crossed Roden’s face, but he backed off while I shook hands with Tobias.

“I think you’re supposed to be the king,” Tobias said, smiling. “The stars are shining for you tonight.”

He must have felt the note I placed in his palm when we shook hands, and he hid it well when we pulled our hands apart.

The ride to the castle was very quiet between Conner and me. He had started our ride by trying to quiz me on any last-minute details. I assured him that I knew everything I had to know, and told him to let me have my silence.

I watched the castle rise into view as we approached. I hadn’t been there in four years, and when I left, I had never expected to see it again. It was one of the younger castles in the surrounding region and, as such, had borrowed heavily from other countries’ architecture. It was built of the large granite blocks from the mountains of Mendenwal and used the round, heavily decorated turrets of Bymar rather than the plain and square turrets common elsewhere. Like Gelyn’s architecture, the heart of the castle was tall and layered, while its wings were long and square. And small ledges extended beneath the windows. To the people of Carthya, it was the center of their government, a symbol of the king’s power, and a sign of the prosperity we had always enjoyed. To me, it was home.

However, it quickly became apparent that we were not the only ones trying to get through the gates. A dozen carriages were ahead of us in line. One by one, a castle guard spoke to someone in the carriage at the front of the line. A few got through, but most were turned away.

Conner leaned his head out the door and signaled to a carriage that had been refused entrance. “What’s happening?” he asked the occupant.

“Can’t say exactly. Whatever I said to the guard, though, he waved us away. Can you imagine such rude treatment? I happen to have the long-lost son of Carthya, Prince Jaron, with me!”

I started to lean forward to get a look at him myself, but Conner pressed me back into my seat.

“Do all these carriages hold the missing prince?” Conner asked.

“There are several frauds, I’m afraid. Several carriages contain nobles invited to the castle to greet whatever king is named tonight, and they are allowed through. But my boy, er, the prince, is with me, so they have chosen poorly.”

“Let us hope the correct boy is crowned tonight,” Conner said, and then wished him well as our carriage moved forward. When we were alone again, Conner added, “His boy looked nothing like Prince Jaron. The guards must be screening for possibilities here at the gate, letting only the most probable candidates through. Don’t worry, Sage, your resemblance is close enough to get us through.”

I wasn’t worried.

But when we reached the gate, Conner learned the truth about the screenings.

The guard looked at me and arched an eyebrow. At least he was impressed. “Who is this?” he asked Conner.

“Prince Jaron of Carthya, as you can plainly see. He must be presented at court before a new king is named.”

“I’ve seen many Prince Jarons tonight,” the guard said. “Have you anything else to say?”

This was a request for a code word. It was an old tradition amongst the royal family to have a code word in the event that an impostor ever tried to enter the castle, or if we had to enter the castle while in disguise. The guards at the gates of the castle were the only other ones who knew the code word even existed. If Conner had known the code, he would have asked if the queen planned to wear green at the dinner tonight, because it was the only color he had brought to match her dress. At least, that had been the code four years ago.

All Conner could do was shake his head.

“I’m sorry,” the guard said. “You may not enter the castle tonight.”

“But I’m Bevin Conner. One of the twenty regents.”

“Then what I meant to say is that you may enter.” The guard flashed a glare at me. “The boy with you may not.”

“He is Prince Jaron.”

“They all are.”

Conner yelled at Cregan to turn our carriage around. “Fools!” Conner hissed, swatting at the carriage door with his hat. “Are we defeated so easily?”

I leaned back in my seat. “There’s a secret way into the castle.”

Conner stopped his swatting. “What? How do you know?”

“I’ve used it.”

“You’ve been inside the castle? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You never asked. There’s a river that flows beneath the kitchen. As food is prepared, the garbage is dumped into the water and the river carries it away. The river is gated, but there is a key so that the gate can occasionally be cleared of larger obstructions.”

“And you have a key?”

I pulled a pin from my jacket. Imogen hadn’t felt me take it from her hair the night before. “I can pick the lock.”

Conner smiled, impressed with what he thought was my ingenuity. In fact, I’d suspected all along it might come to this. Thus, the pin.

Conner’s face fell as he further considered my suggestion. “We shall be filthy if we go that route, unfit to enter the throne room.”

“That guard just now said you could enter through the gate. I can enter through the kitchen.”

Conner shook his head. “Absolutely not. We must stay together.”

Which, unfortunately, I also suspected he would say. So I shrugged it off and said, “We’ll be fine on this route. There’s a dirt path to the side of the river, wide enough that we can easily walk there single file. It will lead us to a door into the kitchen. It’s never guarded, but we’ll need help to restrain the kitchen servants while you and I continue on into the castle.”

“Mott, Tobias, and Roden.” Conner’s eyes narrowed. “Did you know this would happen? Is that why —”

“I brought them so you wouldn’t kill them. There’s one other condition. I don’t want Cregan coming with us. Order him to stay back.”

“But if he can help —”

“He doesn’t come.”

“Very well.” Conner thought for a moment. “How do you know all this?”

“I ate from that kitchen a lot when I was younger.”

Conner misinterpreted my answer and said, “For the first time, Sage, I’m glad to have chosen a thief and an orphan as my prince.”

A
s my note had instructed, Mott, Tobias, Roden, and Imogen were already waiting at the river entrance into the castle when we arrived. Conner looked surprised to find them there but must have explained it away in his mind. He called to Cregan, “Take this carriage back to the inn and wait for us there. I don’t want it here to arouse anyone’s suspicions.”

“Have Tobias take it,” Cregan said. “He’s not useful for anything.”

“Then he’s not useful for managing a carriage. Get going. We must hurry too because I fear we’ll be late.”

I led the way up the river. Imogen was behind me, then Conner, then Tobias, Roden, and Mott at the last. Almost immediately, a roof of dirt and rock rose over our heads as we entered a tunnel leading beneath castle grounds. The castle walls were not much farther ahead.

I had found this entrance myself at age eight. The kitchen staff all knew how often I used it to sneak in and out of the castle grounds, but they liked me and never told anyone. I was finally found out when I fell into the river once and returned to the castle smelling of rotten fruit and moldy meat.

“It smells horrible in here,” Tobias said.

“Nobody promised it’d be pleasant,” I called back to him.

As it grew darker, Imogen walked closer behind me. I noticed she kept one hand ready to grab my arm if she started to fall in.

We reached the gate, which was in desperate need of a cleaning. The gate was clogged with large, rotting chunks of food and debris. It dammed up the water to a higher level of reeking muck than usual.

“I’m going to be sick,” Conner said, covering his nose with a handkerchief. “The smell!”

I hid my smile, but do admit I enjoyed the fact that he was having a difficult time. I used the pin to pick the lock within seconds. It was an old lock with soft tumblers. Once I was king, I’d have to order a better security system placed there.

We went through the gate, and after another few minutes of walking, I informed the group that we had passed beneath the castle walls. Now that we had come this far, we were provided a little light by occasional oil lamps. When servants came down there, they often had their hands full and needed a lit path. It wasn’t much light, but we were grateful for it.

“How much farther?” Conner asked.

“Not far.” Here, the path widened and we were able to walk several persons across. Conner caught up to Imogen and me, Tobias and Mott were behind us, and Roden lagged behind.

“Keep up, Roden,” Conner scolded. “We are pushing against time.”

Roden answered with a shout of surprise. We turned to see what the trouble was. Cregan held him by the neck with his knife.

“Cregan!” Conner yelled. “What are you doing?”

Our group widened into a circle. Mott had his hand on his sword, but he wouldn’t draw it. Not unless Conner ordered it. And he’d wounded himself only two nights ago after I’d killed Veldergrath’s man. He’d be a weakened opponent if he did have to fight.

“Change of plans,” Cregan said, his mouth curved into a nasty sneer. “Your orphan boy won’t be king after all.”

I took a step forward and nodded at Roden. “But why threaten your own choice for king, Cregan?”

Cregan grinned evilly, then released Roden and handed him his sword. Roden didn’t even have the courtesy to act surprised. He’d known all along that Cregan was following us.

“You are traitors!” Conner said. “Traitors to this plan, to Carthya, to me. Why, Cregan?”

“I’m making my fortune. Once Roden’s on the throne, he will make me a noble, then I’ll take your place as regent. Won’t be long before I take everything you have.”

Conner turned his glare to Roden. “After all I’ve done for you, this is your repayment?”

“You’d have left me at Farthenwood to die,” Roden said stiffly. “I owe you nothing.”

“Then I’ll have no guilt in ordering your deaths,” Conner said. “Mott, finish them.”

Before Mott was able to withdraw his sword, Cregan advanced with his knife and said, “Mott can’t kill both Roden and me before one of us gets to either you or your phony king. Roden is better with a sword than you might imagine. I trained him myself.”

Roden arched his head. “And for that brief time I was your prince, you told me everything I’d need to know to convince the regents.”

“Not everything,” Conner said. “You won’t succeed.”

“Yes, I will,” Roden said. “Only Cregan and I go on from here. Hand me the crown, Sage. If you cooperate, everyone leaves in peace.”

Maybe Roden believed that, but I could tell from the expression on Cregan’s face that he had no plans for any of us to leave here alive.

“Sir?” Mott asked. Other than Cregan and Roden, he was the only one carrying a weapon.

“I don’t know.” For the first time since we met, Conner sounded weak. “I didn’t expect —”

“We’re at a standoff,” I said calmly. “Maybe you and Roden will get one of us. But even with your small brain, Cregan, you must know that Mott will get one of you, too. Whether it’s you or Roden who falls, neither of you can win this way.”

Cregan’s face fell. He had not expected us to call his bluff.

“The stronger of us should be crowned,” I continued. “Can we all agree on that?” Roden nodded. Hesitantly, Cregan and Conner did as well. “Then Roden and I fight. The winner goes on to the castle. Do you accept the challenge, Roden?”

“Your back is still injured,” Mott warned.

“Good point. If Roden wants to make it a fair fight, then how about if I’m the only one with a sword?” I grinned, but nobody else liked the joke.

Cregan licked his lips, savoring the idea of seeing me fall. “It was never going to be a fair fight, boy. Roden’s too strong.”

Roden looked back at Cregan, then to me. “Okay, the winner advances to the throne. Please give me the crown instead, Sage. I don’t want to kill you.”

“Lucky coincidence. I don’t want to be killed.”

That infuriated him. “Stop making a joke of this, as if I’m no threat! I’m better at the sword than you might expect, and I’ve seen you fight.”

I removed the crown from my head and handed it to Mott. “Don’t let it get dirty. Let me have your sword.”

“It’s heavier than the prince’s was,” Mott said.

I locked eyes with him. “Mott. Your sword.” With an obedient nod, he handed it to me.

Roden attacked immediately, while I was still facing Mott. One of the advantages of being a left-handed person who had been forced to train with his right, I blocked his advance with my left hand, then rotated toward him and struck him hard at his weaker side.

Roden stumbled back with an expression of surprise at my abilities, but he quickly advanced again and swung harder at me. He’d improved significantly since I last fought him, and those were only in practices. This time, his blows were intended to kill, and he watched for me to make even the tiniest mistake.

“You were faking before,” he said, parrying my thrust. “You’ve been trained to fight.”

“If you knew my father, you’d know that I was trained for show. He never intended for me to actually fight.”

Roden smiled and cut toward me, aiming low. “I’m still better than you.”

“Perhaps, but I’m handsomer, don’t you think?”

That took Roden off guard, and I was able to swing around and kick him in the side. He fell to the ground, but kept his sword ready. I started toward him with my blade. All it would take was a quick slash and this match would be over. But I hesitated. Could I strike after promising to save his life if he wasn’t chosen as prince? Did I still owe him that? I backed up to higher ground. This match would not end with his death.

“You could’ve killed me there,” Roden said, leaping to his feet and advancing. “Why didn’t you? Oh.” Roden came to his own answer. He grinned as he engaged my sword again. “I should’ve known from when you stabbed Veldergrath’s man. You don’t have the stomach for killing. Unfortunately for you, I do.” Then he brought his sword down from over his head. The force of his blade crashing against mine set me off balance and I stumbled down the bank.

In the limited space we had between the wall and the water, Roden continued edging me toward the river. I didn’t like the idea of falling in. I’d lose the sword fight and possibly my life. Also, I’d end up smelling really bad.

Our blades moved faster and harder, but Roden’s confidence was unshakable. If Cregan had chosen him for his natural ability, then he had chosen well. I wished Roden could be on my side after this, because he’d make an excellent captain of the guard.

Finally, my boot hit on a rock, throwing me off balance, and Mott’s sword fell from my hand. I dove for it, but it slid into the river. Behind us, Cregan laughed, sensing victory. Roden lowered his sword and walked up to me, his blade near my throat. I arched my head and backed into a squatting position, but the blade followed me.

“Do you offer mercy?” I asked.

“If you accept that I win this challenge. If you concede that I win and give me that crown, then you and the others may go in peace. That is the mercy I offer. I am Prince Jaron.”

“If you were Jaron, then you’d never fall for a simple trick like this.” I flung my leg to the side and swept it beneath Roden’s feet. He landed on his back with a hoarse groan. I grabbed the rounded edge of the blade and wrenched it from his grasp, then stood and aimed it at his throat.

Roden closed his eyes. “It’s what you said you would do on your very first day,” he mumbled. “Beg mercy and trick your opponent. I’d forgotten.”

“No!” Cregan yelled. “Not him!” He ran at me with his knife outstretched. Mott stepped between us and grabbed his hand, twisting it behind his back. To regain his balance, Cregan clutched at the crown in Mott’s other hand. Mott stabbed him in the back with the knife, and Cregan fell into the water, pulling the crown in with him as well. Blood seeped through the water as both the crown and Cregan’s body were carried away downstream.

“I surrender,” Roden said, lowering his head. “Do what you must.”

I placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled my sword away. “I’d have brought you with me into the court, Roden. We could have been friends.”

Roden shook his head. “I don’t need friends. All I wanted was the throne. Please just kill me here.”

My words had been sincere, and it was difficult to remove my hand. “Go away, then. Run and never find me again.”

Roden looked up at me in an attempt to determine whether it was another trick. But I motioned with my head for him to leave and lowered the sword. Wordlessly, Roden scrambled to his feet and ran out of the tunnel. His footsteps echoed in the tunnel until he’d gotten too far for us to hear him anymore.

“The crown!” Conner said, standing near the edge of the dark water.

“There’s a chance it’ll get carried on Cregan’s body back to the gate,” Tobias said.

“It’s probably sunk already,” Conner said.

“Let me try to find it.” Tobias turned to me. “Sage, when you are king, let me be one of your servants.”

“Be my friend instead,” I said. “Go find the crown.” Tobias bowed and ran back down the river.

Above us, we could hear the faint tolling of bells. “The meeting’s begun!” Conner shouted. “We have to hurry. There’s only minutes to spare!”

I started forward, then gasped and stumbled to my knees. “You’re hurt?” Mott cried, then called to Conner. “Wait!”

“I can help him.” Imogen didn’t flinch in the moment of Conner’s and Mott’s shock at hearing her speak, but continued, “You two secure the kitchen and stall the meeting. I can get Sage there.”

Conner’s strained voice revealed the panic he felt. “Sage?”

“Just get to that meeting.” I looked directly at Mott. “Go now.”

Mott nodded and took Conner’s arm. “Sir, Prince Jaron will be there. Let’s go.”

“I will get there in time,” I told Conner. “Have Mott secure the kitchen for us.”

They ran ahead and Imogen knelt beside me, asking, “You knew about Roden and Cregan. How?”

“It was their last chance to make Roden the prince.”

She reached for the hem of her skirt, intending to tear off strips for a bandage. “Where are you hurt?”

“Nowhere. Everything’s fine. Really.” I smiled and held out my arms to prove it to her. “I just needed a reason to get separated from Conner. Do you think Mott has secured the kitchen yet?”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand — you faked that injury?”

“I’ve got to go now. There’s not much time left.”

I stood to leave, but she grabbed my arm. “Your crown.”

“I won’t need it.”

“Sage —”

“Will you make me one promise, Imogen?”

She pressed her lips together, then said, “What is it?”

This was harder to ask than I’d expected, but I forced the words out. “Next time we meet, things will be different. Will you try to forgive me?”

“Forgive you for what, becoming the prince? Because I understand now why you’re doing it.”

“No, you don’t. But you will. If there is any reason to forgive me, will you try to do it?”

She nodded. There was so much trust in her eyes, so much innocence. She had no idea what she was agreeing to.

I kissed her cheek, then said, “Wait here until Tobias returns with the crown. With that, he’ll be able to get you both through to the throne room. I wish I could take you with me, but this last part I have to do alone.”

“Go, then, and may the devils give you clearance.”

The devils wouldn’t be a problem. It was the regents I needed on my side.