The Crimson Crown (52 page)

At the end of it all, Han felt as wrung out as he might after a long siege of charmcasting. He remained in the room, pretending to look over his notes as the others departed, hoping to avoid any hallway conversations.

But when he finally left, Micah was waiting for him in the reception area. Hammersmith was nowhere to be seen, and the privacy charms along the walls said that Micah meant to have a heart-to-heart.

“So, Alister, you got what you wanted,” he said, fists clenched, shifting from one foot to the other. “Now I need some answers.”

Han just looked at him, trying not to let his gaze slide to the ring on his hand. I don’t have what I want, he thought. Just so you know.

“Where are my father and sister?” Micah took a step toward Han. “What happened? What did you do to them?”

They’re gone
, Han wanted to say, but he couldn’t find the words. He knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of that kind of news.

“How did you get the crown back?” Micah gestured at the bag dangling from Han’s shoulder. “You
murdered
them, didn’t you?
Didn’t
you?”

Make no excuses. Admit nothing.
Those were street rules from way back. Somehow, he and Micah had to get through these next days together.

“I’m sorry,” Han said quietly. “I don’t have any answers for you.”

“They were my family,” Micah persisted, his voice ragged. “They were all I had. Fiona and I—we protected each other growing up. And she cared for you. She made mistakes, but she didn’t deserve to die for them.”

That pinged a nerve. The image of Mari’s charred body floated before Han’s eyes.

“My little sister didn’t deserve to die, either. And I have your father to thank for that.” Han went to brush past Micah, but Micah took hold of his arm, jerking him around.

“Let me see your amulet,” Micah hissed. “I’m betting it’s Waterlow’s. The only way you’d get it back is if my father is dead.”

Han easily broke Micah’s grip, slamming him up against the wall, his arm pressed against the boy’s throat. He could feel the thrum of Micah’s pulse against his forearm. His pain and rage bubbled to the surface, and it was all he could do not to act on it.

“Touch me again and I’ll forget that I’ve decided not to kill you,” Han said. “Given my upbringing, I just don’t have that kind of self-control.”

For a long moment they stood nearly nose to nose. Then Han took a step back, turned, and walked away, not looking back.

The problem with having friends, Raisa thought, is that they tend to gang up on you. Usually with the excuse that it’s for your own good.

These days it seemed that everyone—Amon, Cat, Hallie, Talia, and Nightwalker—was singing off the same sheet. It had gotten to the point that Raisa avoided being alone with those closest to her because she knew what the topic of conversation would be.

“We cannot wait any longer,” Nightwalker said. “If the Bayar made it out, then we can too.” Meaning him and Raisa.

“We don’t know that Micah made it out,” Raisa countered. “We haven’t heard from him since. Anyway, he had magic to help him. I don’t.”

“We know what will happen if you stay here,” Amon said. “If you leave, at least there’s a chance.”

“It’s a slim chance,” Raisa said. “Karn will be looking for me to try to escape. I’d rather die defending the city than be shot in the back like a coward.” Or be taken alive, she thought.

Amon tried a different tack. “With you and Mellony penned up here, Karn can concentrate all of his efforts on the city, and ignore what’s going on in the mountains. If you’re in the highlands, then he has to split his forces and his attention.”

Raisa had to admit, that made sense. Well, she didn’t actually
have
to admit it.

It would be easier to contemplate leaving if she weren’t convinced that much of the current trouble had been caused by her running away before. Nor did she look forward to traveling anywhere with a sister who wouldn’t speak to her. Ever since their conversation about Micah, Mellony had locked herself in her room, refusing to see anyone.

I broke her heart, Raisa thought. Maybe I had no choice, but I didn’t have to speak so harshly to her. One more thing to feel guilty about.

Amon’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Once you leave, we’ll let Karn know you’re gone. He might give up besieging the castle, and give us some relief.”

“All right,” Raisa said finally, too weary to resist further. “Let’s make a plan, anyway. I need ideas. What is likely to be the best way to slip out of the city unnoticed?”

Someone tapped at the door. Mick stuck his head in. “Captain Byrne? We have a situation.”

Amon scowled, clearly not wanting to retreat before fully securing his victory. “We’ll be at least another hour, Private Bricker. Could you—”

“Sir. It’s young Klemath. Kip. He wants to speak with Her Majesty. Says he has a message for her.”

What now? Raisa thought. Why would Kip be here? Is Klemath senior having second thoughts about his new ally?

“Where is he?” Amon asked.

“He’s in…he’s in the dungeon, sir,” Mick said.

“In the dungeon?” Raisa rubbed the back of her neck, trying to release the tension there. “Was that really necessary? He may be a traitor, but I’ve never thought of him as dangerous.”

“It’s for his own protection, Your Majesty,” Mick said. “Tempers are running high in the Guard. Some have family out in the city. And, given what’s happening out there…”

“What do you mean?” Raisa said. “What is happening?”

Mick bit his lip, looking to Amon for direction. “Something bad,” he said.

Raisa and Amon followed Mick out of the audience chamber, the others trailing behind. They walked along the barbican to a point where they could look down over the curtain wall.

What she saw chilled Raisa’s heart.

On the parade grounds, a ring of Ardenine soldiers had penned in threescore citizens—men, women, and children—their hands bound behind their backs. Nearby, soldiers had erected a crude platform topped with twin uprights and a crossbar. Raisa recognized it for what it was—what Han Alister would have called “the deadly nevergreen.”

“A gallows,” she whispered. “Sweet Lady of the mountains.”

She stared down at the scene, horrified, until Amon touched her elbow.

She spun around. “Let’s go see Klemath,” she said, making for the stairs.

Kip Klemath was indeed in the dungeon, although in a holding cell on the upper, most pleasant level. The sons of the renegade general had always reminded Raisa of half-grown large-breed puppies—gregarious, friendly, big enough to do damage, and none too bright.

Now Kip looked like a puppy that had been kicked one too many times. He sat in the farthest corner of his cell, head drooping, as if afraid to come too near the bars. Two grim-faced guards moved to one side as Raisa and Amon approached.

“Klemath!” Raisa shouted, visibly startling him. “I’m here. What do you want?”

Levering to his feet, he shambled over. “Your Majesty,” he said, attempting a smile. “Armor suits you. You look very warlike.”

“I was told you had a message for me.” Raisa folded her arms.

Kip glanced at Amon, then back at Raisa. “Commander Karn sent me,” he said. “He says to tell you he’s running out of patience.”

“As am I,” Raisa said dangerously.

Kip licked his lips. “I—I had no idea…what we were getting into,” he said. “These southerners—they’re not like us.”

“If you are implying that you and I are somehow alike, I must disagree,” Raisa said. She had no intention of making it easy.

Kip nodded, apparently accepting that assessment with no argument. “Commander Karn, he says to tell you that from today forward, he will execute one man, one woman, and one child each day out on the parade ground, in sight of the castle. He will keep it up until you surrender.”

Raisa reached through the cell door, taking hold of Kip’s uniform tunic and yanking him flush with the bars, pulling his head down and standing on tiptoes so they were eye to eye. “And here is my message for Commander Karn,” she said, her mouth tasting of metal and ashes. “I will see Arden bleed for every innocent life he takes.”

With inches between them, Kip thrust something into Raisa’s hand—a thick, lumpy envelope. “Send Captain Byrne out so we can speak in private.”

Taken by surprise, Raisa hesitated, then stuffed the envelope between her armor and padding. She released her hold on Kip and took a step back. “Leave us, Captain Byrne,” she said.

“Your Majesty, I don’t think that is a good idea,” Amon said, looking from Kip to Raisa, suspicion in his gray eyes.

“I said leave us!” Raisa repeated, raising her voice. “I will be perfectly safe.”

Amon inclined his head. “As you wish, Your Majesty,” he said, suspicion hardening into reproach. He backed from the room and pulled the door shut behind him.

When he’d gone, Raisa pulled the envelope free and fumbled open the flap. Inside was a hand-scribbled note and a necklace—a familiar ribbon of white gold and blue diamonds. It had been a favorite of Queen Marianna’s. And, more recently, Mellony’s.

A rivulet of cold fear trickled down Raisa’s spine and pooled in her middle. Unfolding the note, she scanned the page. The looping scrawl was familiar, spotted with teardrops.

Raisa, I am so, so sorry. I was so angry with you, and so frightened for Micah, that I did a foolish thing. I tried to follow after Micah to warn him. But I was captured outside the walls. Now Captain Karn says he will torture me to death if you don’t surrender. He will do it, I know he will. He has the eyes of a fiend.

He says it’s only a matter of time before the keep falls anyway. If you
surrender, you will be kept as a hostage in the south. I will be married to Ardenine nobility, and the Fells will be a vassal state to Arden. Perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad.

Otherwise, I will die now and you will be executed when the castle is taken.

Whatever decision you make, I will understand. I have no right to ask it, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I am so frightened. Your sister, HRH Mellony
ana’
Marianna.

P.S.
If I should die, please tell Micah that I love him. I love you too, and hope you will pray for me.

Raisa’s heart stuttered, and then hammered a painful cadence under her rib cage. She knew that it was true—that if she went to Mellony’s room she’d find it empty.

An image came back to Raisa—of Mellony as a child, kneeling in the temple next to Marianna, head bowed, sunlight gilding her hair. Her little sister had always believed that if she played by the rules, nothing bad could happen.

That’s the way it should be, Raisa thought. Mellony’s simple faith had been a fragile, precious thing. But she had lost her mother and Micah, and now she stood to die a horrible death. Raisa could not—would not—let that happen.

Kip seemed compelled to fill the silence. “Commander Karn had me and Keith look over anybody who tried to get through the cordon around the castle, because he knew we’d recognize you even if you were in disguise. The Princess Mellony was dressed up as a boy, but she doesn’t look very boyish. I recognized her right away.”

“So you betrayed my sister to the southerners?” Raisa’s voice trembled with rage and grief.

Kip belatedly seemed to realize that confession had its risks. “I had no idea what he intended. I just want this whole thing to be over. You know what’s going to happen at the end of it. Why not save dozens of lives and weeks of…of trouble?” He raised both hands, palms up. “Why can’t you be reasonable?”

“Reasonable?” Raisa felt her face heat as blood suffused her cheeks. “Reasonable? It would be
reasonable
for me to behead you as a traitor. It would be
reasonable
for me to hang you from the wall in answer to Karn’s proposal.”

Kip paled. “Don’t be hasty, Your Majesty. I know you’re angry, but think what’s best for everyone, not just yourself.”

“You truly have a gift, Klemath,” Raisa said. “Every word you say makes it more likely I will order you torn limb from limb.”

Kip clamped his mouth shut in an almost comical fashion.
Almost.

“I’m a little confused, here,” Raisa said. “Karn holds Mellony, and he expects me to surrender the keep so he holds both of us. What have I gained?”

Kip eyed her, as if making sure she really wanted him to speak. “He’s not asking that you surrender the castle. He wants you in particular.”

Raisa’s mind swirled. Why was Karn offering this deal? Why not simply demand the surrender of the keep in exchange for Mellony? Why is it so important that he lay hands on me?

Montaigne, she thought. Montaigne wants me taken alive. He hasn’t forgotten his humiliation on my coronation day. A queen martyred defending her queendom would be a symbol of rebellion that would plague the King of Arden for years after. A queen captured sneaking out of the palace, leaving its defenders to die, would be a better story for his purposes. A queen carried back to Arden and tortured to death as a warning to others—even better.

Mellony had said she’d be married to Ardenine nobility. Maybe Montaigne—through Karn—had made her an offer: the throne of the Fells and his hand in marriage; an offer Mellony might be naive enough to accept.

Raisa leaned toward Kip. “All right,” she said. “These are the terms of my surrender. You’ll go back to Commander Karn with a message. I will surrender to him and him only. I’m not going to turn myself over to a squadron of southern soldiers for their amusement.”

Kip opened his mouth, then closed it again before any words leaked out.

“Tell Karn to come to the postern gate tomorrow night, at midnight, with my sister. Just the two of them. Once I have assured myself that my sister is unharmed, we will make the exchange. Mellony will return to the keep and I will go with Karn.”

Kip wet his lips again. “He won’t bring Princess Mellony so close to the wall. He’ll be afraid of treachery. You’ll need to come farther from the keep to make the trade.”

“
He’s
afraid of treachery?” Raisa’s lips twitched, in spite of herself. “Poor Karn. What a world, what a world.”