Too Many Princes (66 page)

“
What do you care for Carthell's freedom?
”
demanded one of the other young men at the table.

And Albrett puffed out his chest.
“
If Carthell is to be part of Crutham, why shouldn't one of us rule the whole? I have an equal claim to the throne of Crutham.
”

So that was it! Lottres couldn't help laughing. He shouldn't have been surprised by Albrett's claim. The Carthellans scowled at his mirth.

“
Come, brother,
”
Lottres mocked Albrett.
“
You couldn't stand up to Calitar or Axenar, let alone challenge Habrok in battle. Or did you think our cousin Dietrick would fight in your place?
”

Even as he said it, Lottres felt Albrett flinch inside. The fat fraud must have hoped to avoid fighting for the throne at all. Perhaps Albrett hoped Habrok would simply die in the war, and spare him the effort.

“
A king need not dirty his hands,
”
Albrett said, in what he must have hoped was a lofty tone. Even Johanz's face showed a trace of disgust.

“
On the contrary, young man,
”
Ymell said, so kindly that Lottres flinched from the depth of the insult.
“
Above all else, a ruler must be willing to do what is needful, not only for himself but for the sake of his people.
”
Then the horned wizard's eyes returned to Johanz.
“
Even if it means stepping back from his heart's desire. Your grace, I urge you to consider your position. An invasion has been launched, open war declared—but not by you. There is still time, if you have the wisdom to seize it. Put aside your pride. Lead your troops to Crutham's defense. If you aid him now, King Oskar may be willing to overlook your tardiness.
”

“
If I don't?
”
Johanz did not flinch when meeting Ymell's gaze.
“
Will you summon your lightning to blast us all?
”

“
I will not apologize for defending myself,
”
Ymell replied. Even now, Lottres was amazed that he didn't use his powers to force his will on Johanz.
“
Nor would I threaten you, your grace. What I offer is an honorable compromise. To accept would be the wiser course.
”

“
Father
.
”
Yriatt's voice came suddenly, vibrant with excitement.

Ymell broke off, and both Shaelen and Lottres started at her call. No one else seemed to notice. There were gasps in the room, men cursing and hands falling to sword hilts. A huge, black form soared outside the window. Yriatt turned in the air, making a purposeful display of her wings and talons.

Two of the duke's advisors leaned forward, speaking into his ears. They meant to whisper, but Lottres heard them clearly.

“
It's the monster we saw before,
”
one said.
“
How do we fight such a creature?
”

“
Don't listen to the wizard, your grace,
”
another was saying.
“
You have committed yourself to Sillets. You cannot step back, for the sake of our freedom.
”

While they murmured, Ymell asked,
“
You disposed of the last
eppagadrocca?
”

“
I did,
”
Yriatt replied.
“
In dying, his mind was laid bare to me. I know where
he
is.
”

Lottres felt his heart skip. He had no doubt who Yriatt meant.

“
Return to me,
”
Ymell said. Aloud, he said to Johanz,
“
If you wish to confer, your grace, I will be happy to wait for a moment.
”

“
You are too kind,
”
Johanz answered. His eyes were hot with resentment, but his manner changed as Yriatt banked outside the window. With leisurely power, the dragon glided toward the castle walls. Men murmured as she disappeared from view. Then the Carthellans drew into a tight huddle around their duke. Dietrick hesitated before going to join them.

Lottres and Shaelen followed Ymell as he slowly walked away from the Carthellans. They made their own cluster just inside the door.

Joined mind to mind, Lottres silently asked,
“
Where do you think he is?
”

“
I don't know,
”
Shaelen answered quickly,
“
but there's something else.
”
Lottres could sense her tension in the tightness of his own knees. Even before she said it, he guessed.
“
Brastigan is in trouble. I feel it.
”

“
Brastigan?
”
Ymell asked with quick concern.

“
Are you still linked to him?
”
Lottres asked
.
“
I thought...
”

“
It must be because of her,
”
Shaelen said
.
Lottres could feel her frustration.
“
My shadow self was so connected to Brastigan, I - I just know something is wrong!
”

“
My grandson should have been in Harburg for several hours by now,
”
Ymell said. Lottres was surprised at the wizard's tone of affection and concern.

“
I know,
”
Shaelen said
.
“
I don't understand what could be wrong.
”

“
With Brastigan?
”
Lottres couldn't help smiling
.
“
It could be anything.
”

Behind them, he caught rumbles from the Carthellan circle.
“
...I never touched him, Father,
”
came Dietrick's set voice. Albrett whined something, and Johanz snapped,
“
That has changed.
”

“
Brastigan should be safe,
”
Ymell murmured. Lottres had the impression he was trying to reassure himself more than anyone else.

“
No one in Harburg is safe,
”
Yriatt cut in. Lottres could sense her in the corridor outside.
“
For that is where Ysislaw is.
”

Ymell responded with an almost physical jerk, restraining such a powerful hate that Lottres felt scorched by its fury. The door opened and Yriatt entered. Her face was composed, but her eyes blazed with emotion.

“
Then we go to Harburg,
”
Ymell said. Not that there was really any question, Lottres thought.

“
And these fools?
”
Yriatt glanced at the murmuring circle of Carthellans.

“
If we win, it will not matter what they do,
”
Ymell responded.

But Lottres wondered if this was true. Now that Shaelen had spoken of her fears, Lottres did feel a lurking dread. He pictured Brastigan in his mind, seeking some sense of his brother, a way to convince himself all was well. He felt only emptiness. Just as when Yriatt tried to find Eben, Lottres thought. There was simply nothing. Only now, knowing that Ysislaw was in Harburg, did he guess the enemy wizard must have been blocking all probes in order to conceal his presence.

“
We'll look for Brastigan as soon as we reach Harburg,
”
Lottres said, speaking to Shaelen alone.

Her chin twitched in an unhappy nod.
“
I shouldn't feel this way,
”
she said, a resentful grumble.
“
I don't even like him.
”

“
Sometimes I don't, either,
”
Lottres confessed.

“
Enough.
”
The Duke's voice came clear and strong. He stood up at the table, while his advisors scurried back to make a united front around him. The four wizards, too, turned to give Johanz their attention.

“
I thank you for your guidance, Master Ymell.
”
Johanz spoke in a conciliatory, even obsequious, tone of voice.
“
Although Carthell is under no obligation to King Oskar, it is true we have historic ties. I shall send my army to Crutham. Perhaps, as you have said, gratitude will strengthen our position in later negotiations.
”

As clearly as if Johanz had spoken aloud, Lottres heard him think,
“
And if Crutham is weakened by battle, we may be able to defeat them without the aid of any allies. Then Albrett will see his wish granted, and so will I.
”

Lottres glanced at Ymell and Yriatt, but neither of them gave any indication they had heard Johanz. Ymell made a sweeping bow.

“
You are indeed a wise and foresighted leader,
”
Ymell said. His flattery was as obviously false as Johanz's had been.
“
Now I must take my leave. There is another pressing matter before me, but I will look forward to seeing the banner of Carthell on the field of battle.
”

“
That you shall,
”
Duke Johanz affirmed.
“
Dietrick, my son—see to this.
”

“
At once, Father.
”
Dietrick saluted and left. For the first time since they arrived, Lottres thought, he didn't look as if his teeth hurt.

The four wizards bowed as well and took their leave. Lottres watched Dietrick walking ahead of them. Dietrick didn't seem to suspect his father's duplicity. His thoughts were full of materials to be gathered and orders to be given.

Yriatt asked,
“
Do we permit Johanz to do this, Father?
”

“
I have done what I can,
”
Ymell answered. His thoughts were remote, and probably focused on his old enemy, Ysislaw.
“
The Cruthans will have to deal with Carthell. Even we cannot be everywhere, daughter.
”

But Lottres wasn't certain Oskar could deal with Johanz, not while Ysislaw lurked in Harburg. This one exchange illustrated just how useful mind-magic could be—and how dangerous. Just as Lottres knew Johanz's intentions, Ysislaw could know his enemies' every thought and see their strategies before they took shape. How could Oskar, or Brastigan, or anyone else, hope to defeat him?

* * *

“
Housekeeping,
”
called Nerona. She knocked gently on Brastigan's door.
“
May I come in?
”

There was no reply from inside the room. Nerona, the head maid, glanced anxiously at Therula. The princess nodded with an assurance she didn't feel.

The housekeeper turned the key in the lock. It creaked and then opened with a heavy snap. The lock worked as reluctantly as the housekeeper did, Therula thought. Not that she blamed Nerona. Brastigan wasn't likely to be glad of the disturbance.

The chamber beyond the doorway was dark. Undeterred, Pikarus pushed right in with Javes at his heels. Therula and Cliodora lingered in the doorway.

“
Will there be anything else, your highness?
”
Nerona asked.

“
No, thank you. This will do,
”
Therula replied. Nerona bowed and walked away. Only then did Therula murmur to Cliodora,
“
Come on.
”

Feeling like an intruder, Therula led her younger sister into Brastigan's small suite. She could hear Pikarus's voice, muffled, from the bedchamber.

“
You were right about the drink,
”
Therula murmured to Cliodora. She waved a hand before her face to dispel the fruity aroma.
“
It smells like apple brandy in here.
”

Javes came out, carrying a candle. He lit this at the nearest cresset. The two young women waited until Javes had returned with the light before venturing past the doorway.

“
He was sitting right there,
”
Cliodora said. She pointed to the small table and chairs under the narrow window. The table stood at an odd angle from the wall, and one of the chairs lay tipped over in the corner farthest from the door.

“
He isn't here now,
”
Pikarus said as he returned from the bedchamber.
“
But I found this on the bed.
”
Pikarus lifted his hand, displaying a sword in its sheath. Therula immediately recognized Brastigan's weapon, Victory. Like most men she knew, he seldom went anywhere without it.

Except for Pikarus's voice, the room was very quiet. It was also rather chilly. Therula had the impression no one had been here for a good while. She felt colder, wondering about Brastigan's absence.

“
Where could he be?
”
Cliodora asked, sidling closer to Therula.

“
Take a look at this,
”
Javes said.

He set the candle on the table and knelt to reach under it. Javes straightened with a small, dark green bottle in his hand. Pikarus held the bottle near the candle. Glass gleamed as he turned it from side to side. Therula saw something on the bottle, a brown smear clouding the shining smoothness. A long black hair curled away from it.

The two soldiers passed a grim look between them. Therula swallowed heavily, and went to join the two men. Cliodora followed close behind.