Flecks of Gold (43 page)

“Why don’t you go clean up and rest for awhile. I’ll send Fiona to you soon,” Sogran said. It was weird hearing him use Mom’s name so casually, but they had been married after all.
Are they still married legally
? I wondered,
and according to whose laws?
Knowing Mom, it was entirely possible she had never filed for divorce.

I preceded Kirana and Shok, the two guards Sogran had assigned me, for although I was apparently a Zefa rather than a princess, it was still a faux pas for them to just lead the way to my tent. They did, however, tell me clearly when to turn right or left rather than coughing at me, and the camp wasn’t incredibly large, so Kelteon didn’t take any wrong turns as I traveled through the tall, tan-colored tents. Throughout the camp there was no hint of any bright-hued cloth other than the dark purple of the soldier’s shirts.

Kirana and Shok took me to one of the centermost tents. It was wide enough inside to fit a cot in either direction, but no bigger. My head brushed the canvas at the edges, but if I stayed in the middle, next to the large pole that extended up to the ceiling, I could stand without my hair creating a static afro.

After Kelteon had me roughly scrub my arms and face of dirt, a purple soldier’s gee top and a pair of loose desert pants were handed through the tent flap. I was still filthy and wished for a moment that he could do the cleaning lacing after all, but I’d never taught Rafan, and nothing could induce me to feel anything but fiercely glad that at least when it came to knowing my thoughts and memories, Kelteon was thwarted.

Once the new, clean clothes were donned, Kelteon had me lie down in my supposed extreme fatigue. I really did doze until a light voice outside my tent flap woke me. Before I knew what was happening, Kelteon had me jump to my feet and rush out the flap to hug Mom.

“Mother,” he had me say ecstatically.
Don’t fall for it
, I screamed uselessly in my head.
Notice something’s wrong. I don’t call you “Mother,”
I pleaded silently. You’ve got to see that it’s not really me hugging you.

When Mom pulled away, there were tears running down her face, but Kelteon hadn’t managed to pull that much off for me. “I’m so sorry I left you there. I will never forgive myself. Did he hurt you?” she asked, checking me over for wounds or bruises.

“It’s okay, really. But do you think I could tell everyone everything at the same time? I don’t want to say it more than once.” My face was crumpled in a haunted expression, and Mom hugged me close again.

“All right, honey. Let’s go find the king and Sogran. I know it’s hard, but we really need to know what happened.” She rubbed her thumb back and forth on my hand. Kelteon wouldn’t know it, but Mom was troubled. I hoped it was about more than what’d happened to me after she’d made it to the king’s camp.

Mom walked with me, her arm stretched up to reach around my shoulders while Kirana and Shok trailed behind us. Kelteon had me stoop into her, making my small mother take more of my weight than I ever would have. He was really playing up the pathetic victim role, and I wondered apprehensively what he was up to.

I knew when we’d reached the king’s tent because not only was it big enough for a crowd to lounge around in without worrying about static hair, but the servant that always seemed to be wherever the king was when we were at the palace stood at attention outside the flap with two other soldiers beside him.

My head rose to catch the servant’s eye. When he glanced my way my hand, tucked in close to my middle, quickly formed a symbol, kind of like a gang sign. And then my hand straightened my shirt as if that had been the purpose of the movement. No one else saw a thing. The two guards at the door were glancing at Mom, and my hand was completely shielded from the two behind me.

The servant moved his head so slightly that if I hadn’t been aware of the hand signal, I would have thought he was only adjusting his rigid stance, rather than knowing it for the acknowledgment it was. I felt sick to think that Kelteon had a spy loyal to him so close to the king. The servant bowed to Mom and me, opened and held the tent flap, and then announced, “Zefa Mary and Fiona Underwood.”

The dull canvas that blended so well with the desert on the outside was completely covered with rich and colorful silk swaths on the inside. Cushions lay randomly on the floor, on which King Verone, Sogran, and Breeohan sat with a stiff attention that made the comfort of the pillows seem wasted. When Mom and I entered, the three men stood and bowed before offering us cushions on which to sit.

The king looked genuinely happy to see me. I was expecting stern relief. I also expected a punishment for creating this mess. Breeohan’s face was uncharacteristically unreadable. Sogran’s lips quirked up, but that was all the greeting he gave before following the king and Breeohan back to the pillows and their uncomfortably tense poses.

There was a charged silence before my mouth opened and spoke. “I asked Mom to bring me here so I could tell you all what happened after she left, just once.” My voice caught as I continued, “Please don’t interrupt with any questions. I don’t know if I can say it all if I’m stopped.” My eyes were cast down, watching my hands clasp and unclasp as Kelteon made me pause.

“I don’t know if Mom understood enough to tell you about the deal I made with Kelteon to get her free, that I consented to submit to an enchantment lacing.” Kelteon looked up quickly to gauge their reactions. No one looked surprised.
That would explain the tension in their shoulders
, I thought with satisfaction. “Well, when she was safe over here, I refused to submit, despite what I’d promised. I felt I’d rather die than lose my freewill.” Kelteon managed to make a few tears overflow from my eyes.

“He had his archers shoot me in the legs until I was too worn out to heal myself anymore. After he talked to the training general and I was out of energy for lacings, they dragged me to a room with a huge fire and used heated pokers—” My voice cut off with a sob.

Mom reached over to hug me. She was shaking all over. Kelteon didn’t look up to see how the others were reacting. I really wanted to see if they were buying his performance, but I doubted even the great Kelteon could look them in the eye and still convince them of his version of events.

“I don’t think Kelteon meant for me to pass out, but I’m glad I did. I was coming so close to giving in.” My body shivered, and Mom rubbed my arm comfortingly. “When I woke up again, I was able to heal the burns, and you came before he could do anything else,” Kelteon said with my mouth, gulping back sobs. “Thank you,” he added before breaking down completely.

I felt like a traitor. His story could have been true if I had been a stronger person. The people I cared about were in more danger than ever because I was so weak. Kelteon’s sobs were fake, but mine were real as Mom stroked my back and hugged me, and Breeohan scooted so close I could see his knees through my fingers, even with my face bowed low.

“It’s over, Mary. You’re safe now,” Breeohan soothed. His hand rested on my shoulder and squeezed gently in compassion. After a while, Kelteon calmed my crying and looked up at the people around me. My head first turned to Mom, who looked guilt-stricken, then my eyes moved to Sogran and the king who shared expressions of rage, sorrow, and an almost imperceptible guilty relief, probably because they thought I was really me.

Breeohan still knelt close to me in a dark purple shirt that made the amethyst in his eyes seem of a deeper hue. Desperate sorrow and self-accusation marked his face. His fingers twitched up as if he wished to wipe my tears away, but his hands stayed in his lap. I prayed that Kelteon hadn’t noticed the movement. It was funny how every person in the tent was riddled with guilt except one—Kelteon, the instigator of the pain who sat placidly spying from my eyes, unknown to all but me.

“Is it true then? Are you really my father?” Kelteon fished.

“Oh, honey . . .” Mom began but stopped when the king shook his head slightly. My head jerked in response, and I guessed that Kelteon was interested in the exchange. “Why don’t we talk about everything after you’ve rested some more?” she continued. “I’m sure you’ve had your share of emotionally taxing events for the evening, and your father’s story will take quite awhile to tell.”

Kelteon could only have me nod reluctantly in order keep up the pretense of my harrowing imprisonment. Breeohan helped me to rise from the pillow.

“I’ll walk you back to your tent,” he offered. My head bobbed demurely. He held my arm in a supportive adaptation of the typical court hold as we walked away from the king’s tent, Sogran’s two soldiers trailing at a courteous distance. The silence stretched between us uncomfortably.

“You are justified in never forgiving me. I cannot forgive myself,” he said.

“It would have done no one any good for you to stay,” Kelteon had me say carefully. I got the impression he was trying to feel things out, unsure what Breeohan expected me to say. I was rooting for him to get some detail wrong.

“I might have helped you. Perhaps if I’d been there I could’ve stopped Kelteon.”

I ached to comfort him, but instead Kelteon had me say, “Well, you didn’t stay, and wondering ‘what if’ won’t change anything.” I saw the look of self-accusation on Breeohan’s face intensify, and my hatred of Kelteon broiled to a fiercer pitch.

“Don’t worry too much,” Kelteon amended slightly when he saw Breeohan’s tension increase. “You said yourself that I’m always getting into trouble. If you’d been there, you would have been caught too.” I might have said something like that myself, but Kelteon said the words with ease. My body was relaxed, uncaring. I would not have been so blasé about those words, knowing that Breeohan was blaming himself for breaking his promise to me so soon after making it.

Breeohan was silent until we reached my tent, his face shuttered so that I couldn’t tell if he had noticed something wrong with Kelteon’s statement or not. He left with a polite good night and walked away, taking wide, slow steps. I entered the tent and lay down on the cot where my body went into a paralyzed stasis while Kelteon concentrated on other things.

My mind buzzed in a constant loop. It was a torture more refined than physical pain. I was glad when my useless thoughts were finaly interrupted by the sound of the tent flap swishing open. My body sat up. The king’s servant stood outlined in the last light of twilight. Then he closed the flap and bathed the tent in darkness.

Kelteon directed my magic to light a small mage light. “Ah, Sirus, I trust the two keeping watch on the tent will be indisposed for some time?”

Sirus nodded warily. “They’ve just had their supper and will sleep for a portion, no more. Am I to assume that Mary submitted to the enchantment lacing after all?”

“Of course. She needed very little convincing to comply,” Kelteon goaded me with my own mouth. “What news do you have for me?”

Sirus smiled nastily. It was creepy to see someone who had always blended in so well to the background look suddenly dangerous and menacing. “I have something that I know you will like. The training general’s claim to Mary’s fatherhood is false. It was a strategy to give you less power in negotiating. She is not only the king’s child, but before he left to chase after his lost wife, he met with the council in secret and declared Mary his daughter officially, so that if any of the courtiers tried to harm Mary while he was gone, she would be protected by the fact that she really is the king’s child and a true princess, if not the one she claimed to be. The council was not to tell anyone of her birth unless strictly necessary, so none but they know it still. But the king gave his seal to documentation declaring her legally his daughter.”

“I suspected Sogran’s claim was a ruse,” Kelteon sneered angrily, my face contorting in fury. He had me stand and try to pace, but he soon found it was impossible in the small space and I sat back down. My emotions during Kelteon’s little temper tantrum were twirling in their own confusing spin dive. I wished people would just make up their minds.
First, the king’s my dad, then he’s not, then he is.
It was enough to give me a headache and doubt Kelteon’s spy, despite his apparent surety. Kelteon’s scowl played on my face, curving my lips in a smile similar to that of Sirus’, and I felt violated all over again to feel my face make such an expression of cruel delight.

“They think to have taken advantage of me, but King Verone will soon find that his scheme has failed. We will strike as soon as possible. Everyone has already eaten today, but I want you to add a sleeping herb to breakfast that will last the morning. I’ll know when to move in with my men as soon as the training general’s soldiers are asleep. Be sure not to get caught. It will be much harder to take the camp if the soldiers here are awake.”

Sirus nodded once and left silently through the tent flap.

“It appears, Mary, you will have the pleasure of being my queen after all,” Kelteon used my voice to whisper the news to me in satisfaction. Inside, I beat and clawed to take back control of my body, but Kelteon just chuckled and made me lie down to sleep. I resisted his command to close my eyes, but it was useless. Seeing nothing but the black of my eyelids, I sluggishly tried to figure out some way to warn someone. But answers stayed as far out of reach as the control of my body.

I
awoke in a panic, escaping the last of a series of nightmares that hounded me through my sleep. Awareness did nothing to calm me, however. Dread sat like a stone in my stomach. The tent flap swished, and my head turned to see a girl enter with a bowl of mush.

“Thank you,” Kelteon said through me. He waited for the girl to leave before making me dig a hole in the ground and drop the food into it. I struggled desperately to make myself take a bite, but my body moved without pause, following Kelteon’s orders.

He had me wait for twenty minutes before checking the state of the king’s camp. My guards lay on the ground, drugged. There were a few people running around in confusion trying to rouse those who’d dropped, but I saw with dismay that those who lay senseless greatly outnumbered those still awake. My body moved closer to the edge of camp where the tents ceased, but before I reached the perimeter, a roar echoed in my ears. As the sound came closer, I heard men yelling and the clash of metal. Kelteon’s brown-clad mercenaries rushed through the camp with the force of a riptide as they mowed down the few king’s men still standing.