“I’m sorry,” Jared rejoined. “Who is Prince Ciprian’s cousin?”
Rohan’s eyes glinted in the candlelight. “Three clues,” he said. “Silver beard, violet eyes, and you certainly wouldn’t want to run across him in a dark alley.”
“Kai Jagger!” Jared exclaimed, his head spinning with this new information.
“Kai Jagger,” Rohan repeated. “If you want to unlock an alliance with Prince Ciprian of Baltiska, the Huntsman is your key.”
TWENTY-ONE
The Canyon Palace, Rednow
JARED WAS TRYING HARD TO KEEP CALM. “WHY didn’t you tell me? Why did I have to find this out from the ruler of another Princedom?”
He and Kai were in a large bedchamber deep in the palace, the other travel-weary Archenfielders stretched out asleep on the far side of the room. Jared stared angrily at Kai, sitting across from him on a stone bench.
Kai frowned. “It was not a secret, Prince Jared. But it is ancient history. It has no bearing on my life now.”
“No bearing?” Jared felt his anger rising. “Of course it has bearing! You are first cousin to the Prince of a territory with which we want to build an alliance. You are in the perfect position to exert influence.”
Kai shook his head. “I have no influence in Baltiska anymore. I left there under a storm cloud years before you were even born. Though it is true my blood directly connects me to Prince Ciprian, my actions—and his—have severed that connection for all time.”
“What actions?”
Kai dropped his eyes. “As I said before, it is ancient—”
“I’m sorry, Kai.” Jared shook his head. “But I need to know this.” He realized that it was the first time he had openly challenged Kai in all the time they had known each other. A few weeks ago—a few days ago even—he would never have dared. But now the stakes had risen, and so too had his confidence.
Kai nodded. “It’s a simple, if rather pathetic story, but I’ll share it with you if I must.” He sighed. “Ciprian and I both fell in love with the same girl.”
“This is all about a girl?”
Kai smiled softly. “Wars have been fought over less, Prince Jared.”
“Who was she?”
“Her name is Nina,” Kai said. “The most beautiful girl I ever saw. I wasn’t much older than you when I first got to know her. It wasn’t love at first sight—no, that’s not true… I was spellbound. But I was ill at ease with young women and it took me some time to gain the confidence to even talk to her.”
Jared was amazed by how a few words could overturn the impression he had formed of Kai over many years—of someone who was frightened of nothing and no one.
“She was kind and patient,” Kai continued. “And, in time, I found the courage to talk to her and, to my astonishment, she liked me too.” His voice grew husky. “Later, she confided that she had known from the first time we saw each other that we were destined to be together.”
“Why didn’t she make the first move, then?” Jared asked.
Kai smiled. “That was not her way. She saw no need to rush things. We were young. We had the whole of our lives ahead of us.” His smile faded away. “Or so we thought.”
“What happened?”
“It was three years to the day since we had met when I asked her to marry me. She said yes, but we agreed that we would keep our plans secret, for a time. We knew that the moment our families got word of our intentions, mayhem would break out.”
“Your families would have opposed the marriage?”
“No.” Kai shook his head. “They would have been thrilled. Which means they would have taken control. We just wanted a brief period of time to be together and hug the secret close to us before everyone began to stake their claim in our lives.”
Jared nodded. He thought of his own family and the fanfare around Anders’s betrothal to Silva. But then, he reminded himself, Anders and Silva’s marriage had been incubated in the Council Chambers of Archenfield and Woodlark. By the time they had first met each other, their fate had already been decided by parents and councilors. Jared frowned to think of it. He would never submit to such manipulation. And it was strange to entertain the thought that, in this respect at least, he might be stronger than his brother. “So,” he continued. “You and Nina had agreed to marry, but you kept your plans secret. What happened to change that?”
“Not what,” Kai said, “but who.” His face clouded. “Ciprian. My cousin Ciprian.” Kai paused to collect his words. “When I was twenty, he was thirty-one. Old enough to be married twice already.” He paused. “I should clarify. He was not widowed, nor did he divorce. He had simply claimed a second wife in addition to the first. But it seemed two wives were not enough for him.”
“A harem?” Jared said, his nose wrinkling with distaste.
“Something like that,” Kai said. “He kept them in separate palaces, with separate courts. And he moved from one to the other, how and when he pleased. Ciprian was Prince of Baltiska. Nobody dared to question him.” Jared began to have an ominous sense of where Kai’s story was heading. “As you know,” Kai continued, “he and I were cousins but, for a time, we became as close as brothers. We had some similar interests—hunting, for instance. And, though it pains me to admit this now, I looked up to him.”
“You looked up to him? How is that even possible?”
“I was an only child and my own father was considerably older than me. I saw very little of him growing up, and then he died. In a short space of time, Ciprian became the perfect blend of father and brother to me.”
Jared was starting to get a sense of how complex Ciprian was.
“And then everything changed,” Kai said. “Because Ciprian saw Nina, and the moment he saw her, he knew that he would take her as his third wife.”
“But she had agreed to marry you!”
“Yes,” Kai said. “But, as I told you, that was a secret. Ciprian did not know—at least, at first he did not know. When I told him, he merely smiled and told me I was young and handsome and I would soon find another girl to love and marry.”
“What about Nina? She could have turned him down, surely. Why did she not?”
Kai sighed. “I cannot speak for her. I have often asked myself the same question.”
“But did you ask her?”
“The Prince wanted her,” Kai said sadly. “Just as she could not refuse him, I could not defy him without losing my own life. I made the decision to leave the court. I left the day before Nina became Prince Ciprian’s third wife. I saw the palace he was building for her, connected by bridges to the other two palaces. I left and I have never been back.
“So you see,” Kai said, “I have no influence to exert on Prince Ciprian. In all honesty, I doubt he would even grant me an audience after all this time. What I did—effectively exiling myself from the Princedom—he would have taken as a great insult against him—”
“An insult against him, after what he did to you?”
Kai nodded. “Ciprian is a very different kind of man from you or me, Prince Jared. I would not pretend to understand how he thinks.”
Jared frowned, still reluctant to give up on the possibility of an alliance with Baltiska. “Kai,” he said, “Prince Rohan has agreed to escort me to the court of Prince Séverin. He is confident we can make another alliance there. We leave tomorrow.”
Kai smiled. “Well, that’s good. There are still four full days until Paddenburg’s promised invasion. You have already secured two alliances and, by the sounds of it, are very likely to land a third.”
“I’m worried,” Jared told him. “If Hal is right and Francesca reneges on her promise—”
“Prince Jared.” Kai lowered his voice a little. “I would not listen too closely to Hal. He is your Bodyguard but—”
Jared frowned again. “Hal has as keen a sense as any of us of how things may fall. And he is right when he says that the alliance with Woodlark, which we all know has been deeply strained, is now contingent on us de
livering Logan Wilde to Francesca and Ines before Axel signs his death warrant.”
“Axel wouldn’t do that in your absence.”
“Why not?” Jared retorted. “He brought forward the execution of Michael Reeves without my knowing.”
“That was different,” Kai said. “Axel is a shrewd politician. He knows just how important Logan Wilde is in the greater scheme of things. Especially within the terms of the Paddenburg Ultimatum.”
“Maybe,” Jared said, “but I can’t be sure my cousin won’t just get a rush of blood to his head. For all we know, Logan could already have been hanged, drawn and quartered. And even if he hasn’t, I’m not convinced that we can prevent his allies in Paddenburg from ‘repatriating’ him before we hand him over to Francesca.”
Kai let out a sigh. “Then, at worst, the alliance with Woodlark fails. But we return to court with alliances agreed with Rednow and Larsson. Isn’t that sufficient?”
“You can answer that question as well as I can. We know they are two of the smaller territories, and that Rednow’s strength lies far more in trade than in war. I suppose the army of Larsson is a somewhat better proposition to deter Paddenburg…” Jared paused, thinking. “But if we don’t have Woodlark, the one we really need is Baltiska.”
Kai’s brows knitted together. “What are you asking me, Prince Jared?”
“Tomorrow, when I head out to Larsson with Rohan, I’m going to take Hal with me,” Jared told him. “So I’m asking you to take Bram and go to Baltiska and see if, even after all this time, you can talk to Prince Ciprian and persuade him. Put the offer of an alliance between the river territories before him. Surely his own self-interest will see how it strengthens his border position with Schloss?”
“I told you, Prince Jared, I doubt that he’ll even agree to see me.”
“Then talk to Nina,” Jared said. “Perhaps she can exert influence on her husband?”
Kai’s eyes closed.
“I understand that this will be difficult for you,” Jared said. “And if I could identify another way to get to Ciprian, I’d pursue it. But there is no other way.” He paused. “I know what I’m asking, Kai. I need you to do everything you can to secure that alliance.”
Kai’s features were veiled. “Are you asking me to return to Baltiska to talk to Nina, or are you ordering me to do so?”
Jared met the Huntsman’s gaze. “I think you know the answer.”
TWENTY-TWO
The Palace Gardens, Archenfield
KOEL FELT THE DUNGEONS CALLING TO HER ONCE more. What was their strange allure? Was it the thrill of the darkness and the utterly unembellished surroundings there exerting some kind of primitive hold over her? Or was it the darkness personified in Logan Wilde? How strange it was to think that, through these nocturnal meetings, she had found her own private counselor… in Archenfield’s number one enemy of state. She thought of him now, of the way he could intuit her thoughts and feelings, and was taken aback once more at the deep sense of connection she felt to him.
Koel knew she really ought to return home to Blaxland Manor. After all the events of the day, what she needed most was rest, not another close encounter with the provocative assassin. She hesitated. What should she do? If only fate would decide this for her.
Fate did indeed grant her wish but not in the way she had wanted or foreseen: Koel suddenly felt a pair of hands grab her roughly from behind and another wedge a ball of cloth in her mouth. She tried lifting her hands to remove it but realized, with cold fear, that her attackers already had her arms held tight behind her back. Now she was deprived of vision as a tight hood was drawn down over her head.
Panic pulsing through her, she struggled violently, trying to break free, but there were at least two men holding her and they were clearly stronger than she—already her wrist was burning at the pressure of one of her attacker’s clutches. Only her legs were unsecured and, before the opportunity was lost to her, she launched a hard kick with her right leg. She was gratified both by the feel of solid contact with the fleshy part of another body and the accompanying pained cry. Bull’s-eye!
But there was no time to savor this small victory. The ground was taken from underneath her and she found her legs too were held tight. She tried to kick out again but her attackers had somehow rallied. Perhaps there was a third or fourth of them, she thought fearfully. The gag was wedged deeply into her mouth, and with the further pressure applied by the tight hood, she had no opportunity to ask their identity or plead the case for mercy.
Now she felt a pressure around one of her ankles and realized that a buckle was being fastened tightly around it. Her other ankle was clamped just as tightly shut. At last the hands were removed from her legs. She tried to move them, of course, but it was of no great surprise to her that she had little room for movement now. She knew what was coming next and, what was worse, she was powerless to do anything about it. Sure enough, each of her wrists was held down as a buckle was secured around them. Only then did her attackers let go of her.
Other than the cry when she had lashed out with her foot, none of them had said a single thing. They were being exceedingly careful, she realized, so that she would have no clue as to who they were.
Why had they fastened her like this? And what had they fastened her to? In the next few moments, she was granted some kind of answer as she heard the whinny of a horse and then felt a sickening lurch of movement. Clearly, whatever structure they had bound her to was also attached to a horse.
The horse gathered momentum and she was drawn along in its wake, bouncing up and down over the rough ground. Some instinct deep within told her that if she allowed her body to relax—no mean feat under these circumstances—it would be less painful for her. She did her best and tried to retain mental focus. She needed to ready herself to deal with her captors; indeed, to broker some kind of deal with them. Were they invaders from Paddenburg? Had they come early, then? Had her “counselor” Logan Wilde summoned them through his network of spies? How had she allowed herself to fall prey to him? This rankled most of all. She was so much smarter than this!
After a time, in spite of her best efforts, it grew harder to focus on anything but the pain she was enduring and what paltry measures she might take to minimize it. How far were they going? Gradually, however, the ground grew softer but her momentary relief at this was undercut when she realized they must now be in the forest. Did they plan to take her all the way across the border like this? But she’d be saved by the border guards, wouldn’t she? Unless the invasion was already under way…
Her senses were restricted, her hearing muffled by the close-fitting hood. She strained to hear the sound of hooves, trying to assess how many horses were in this party. She knew that there had been at least two attackers, probably three. Potentially more. Still, she was fairly sure she could hear only one set of hooves thumping on the forest floor.
She felt consciousness beginning to ebb away from her. No, she instructed herself. No, you have to keep awake and alert! This isn’t an end in itself. Whoever has done this to you—and for whatever reason—you have to be ready to confront them and negotiate your way to freedom.
But it was getting harder and harder not to just slip away… Was it her imagination or were they slowing down? No, they definitely were slowing! There was one final series of bounces over uneven ground, until at last there was no more movement and she lay there, summoning what strength she could muster for the next, undoubtedly decisive, part of her ordeal.
She heard the muted sound of someone jumping down and landing on the ground, then moving toward her. She knew that it was likely only a matter of moments before she would know the face of her attacker. Sure enough, she felt a presence beside her and, at last, the hood was lifted away from her head.
She opened her eyes and saw, at first, only darkness. The smell of pine trees, strangely pungent, told her that they were still in the heart of the forest. They seemed to be in a clearing. Then a face came into her range of vision.
At first she thought she was hallucinating; then she realized that it made complete sense.
“Good evening, sister dearest,” Axel said. “How did you enjoy your ride?”
Koel stared weakly up at him. She was flushed with a certain relief, but at the same time furious that her captor and torturer had turned out to be her own brother.
“Yes, it’s me,” Axel said with a nod. “I wonder, though—who did you think it might be?”
Koel glared at her brother, still unable to speak or scream due to the gag. She moved her eyes from him downward, seeing that she was fastened to a basic frame of wooden struts and canvas, which in turn had been attached by chains to the saddle of Axel’s horse. No wonder she had felt every nuance of the ground beneath her. She glanced down the length of her body, seeing the tight buckles at her wrists and ankles. Instinctively, she wriggled her legs and arms, knowing that it was hopeless but unable to allow herself to remain trapped like this any longer.
“Stay still,” Axel instructed her. He leaned over her, his face just above hers so that she had no choice but to inhale his breath. “First of all, I’m going to take the gag away. Then, if you’re quiet, I’ll unfasten you from these straps. Nod if you understand.”
She had no choice but to nod. Upholding his side of the bargain, Axel removed the gag. She was grateful to sense feeling and movement return to her lips.
“Why did you do this?” she asked.
“Oh, I think you can probably guess,” he told her. “But in any case, once I’ve released you, you and I are going to have a somewhat overdue brother-sister chat.” As he moved to unfasten the straps at her ankles, he raised a finger in a warning gesture. “Don’t lash out again with your legs. I’ve had to send Elliot home with a block of ice to nurse the wound you inflicted earlier upon his manhood.”
She lay there on the uncomfortable frame, gazing up at the star-filled sky with a certain satisfaction. No one could say that Koel Blaxland had gone down without a fight.