The False Prince (12 page)

C
onner’s dungeon smelled of rotting urine. I vaguely wondered who else had been brought here and how long ago. The dungeon was only a single room surrounded by rough-hewn rock walls and rusty iron bars. There were no windows and no lights except for the few lit candles in sconces on the wall outside the bars. It was damp down here, and I shivered in the cold air. Except it wasn’t that cold. I was terrified.

When Cregan used a hand to open the barred door, I wrenched an arm free of his grasp and got in one good punch on his neck. Mott grabbed my arm and wrested it behind me with the other, pinching them tightly together.

“I’ll make you pay for that,” Cregan hissed. Once we were inside, he sliced off my shirt and shackled my wrists with a chain that hung from the ceiling. When he raised the chain, I could only barely touch the floor with my arms suspended above me.

Mott had gone to the far corner of the room, but now he approached me. In his hands was some sort of whip. It had a long handle, with a thick leather strap on the end that he held tightly bundled.

“Conner said not to leave scars.” It was impossible to control the tremble in my voice as I spoke.

Cregan’s grin revealed his eagerness for that whip to fly. “He said nothing about bruises. As long as he hits you with the broad side of this strap, you’ll feel the pain, but it shouldn’t cut you.”

“Please don’t do this, Mott.” I wasn’t above begging.

“You chose this!” he yelled. “Didn’t I warn you before?”

“What’s so important about the rock?” Cregan asked.

“It’s not about the rock,” Mott said. “The boy just wants to win. This is his way of proving that Conner doesn’t own him.”

“He doesn’t own me,” I said.

That elicited Mott’s first snap of the whip. I’d prepared myself for pain, but not as great as this. A scream burst from my lips that didn’t sound like me. Mott snapped it again and then a third time. My legs collapsed beneath me, which pulled hard at my shoulders.

“Where’s the rock?” Mott asked.

Without waiting for an answer, he snapped the whip again. I felt myself separating from the pain, as if a part of me had stepped aside to watch it happen. That part of me cringed at the sound of strap hitting flesh. The other part continued to scream.

“He doesn’t own me,” I whispered. “It’s my gold.”

The whip snapped again, ripping like a claw into my skin, then Mott scowled. “Get a towel.”

“Conner said not to draw blood!” Cregan said.

“He said not to leave scars. Get me the bandages and then we’ll leave him alone. We’ll give him time to think about his next answer.”

Cregan disappeared for a moment while Mott cursed and threw the whip back into the corner of the room. A minute later, Cregan returned with a bottle of clear liquid and a cloth.

“I’ll take care of this,” Mott said. “Don’t tell Conner anything more than you have to.”

“Give me five minutes alone with him,” Cregan said with a growl. “I’ll find out where the rock is.”

“Get out!” Mott commanded.

When we were alone, Mott unscrewed the bottle. I caught a whiff of it and shook my head. “Don’t. No more.”

“This sting won’t be much better than the whip,” Mott warned.

He poured the liquid onto the cloth, then pressed it to my back. I howled again and kicked Mott in the knee, and he stumbled backward.

“You’ll get infected if I don’t clean this,” he said angrily. “I’m the only friend you’ve got right now, so don’t upset me.”

“If you’re my friend, then who are my enemies?”

“You are your own enemy, Sage. Look in the mirror for the cause of your problems. Do you think I wanted to hold that whip?”

He patted my back again with the cloth and I cursed at him.

“Watch your mouth, or Conner will have me whip that out of you too.”

“It hurts!” My back was on fire and every nerve in my body felt it.

“I don’t know why Conner hasn’t killed you already,” Mott said. “He sees something in you worth keeping, but his patience won’t last forever. Give him the rock, Sage.”

“No.”

Mott wrapped the wet cloth around my side and knotted it tightly. “You’re a fool,” he said. “If this is your strategy to become prince, it’s a terrible one. Bow to Conner, boy. And give him the rock.”

Before he left, he blew out both candles, leaving me suspended from the ceiling, half-naked, injured, and in complete darkness.

T
hey came to check on me two more times that day. The first time, Cregan brought a bowl of steaming soup. He said he knew I hadn’t eaten much that day and that I must be starved by now. All I had to do was tell them where the rock was hidden and they’d let me go.

I told him the soup smelled awful and I’d rather lick the dungeon floors. Cregan said that could be arranged. Then he leaned against the wall and ate the soup. When he was full, he threw the remains on me and laughed.

“I asked Conner to let me kill you right now,” he said.

“If you make it quick, then go ahead.” And I meant it.

Cregan got so close to me that I could smell the onions from the soup on his breath. “Oh no, I wouldn’t make it quick. I’d take my time with you. Guess I have to be patient, though, because unfortunately, the master wants to keep you around a little while longer.”

“Go away, then.”

He seemed amused at my attempt to order him, and tried an order of his own. “Where’s the rock?”

I turned my face away from him and was rewarded with a punch to the stomach.

“I can do that all I want,” he said. “It won’t leave scars.”

“Keep it up,” I said when I recovered my breath. “After I’m king, it will lessen my guilt for having you executed.”

Cregan glared at me, issued a few threats for what he’d do the next time he came down, and stomped back up the stairs.

Any number of hours later, Mott came with a rock that he said was as shiny as the one I’d had before. He pointed out that it was a little bigger than the other one and looked more valuable. I could have this rock. I only had to return the other one to Conner.

“That’s imitator’s gold,” I said, irritated at his attempt to patronize me. “Mine was real.”

“Yours was just a worthless rock,” Mott said. “Even I could tell that.”

“Why does Conner want it, then?”

“Why do you want it?” Mott said. “Neither of you could possibly care for what any other person wouldn’t even bother to pick up off the side of the road. Conner wants it because you want it, and you want it to defy Conner. If you think this fight proves anything, you’re wrong.”

“Tell Conner he needs me to be his prince,” I said. “Neither Roden nor Tobias will be able to convince the regents. But I can, and he knows it.”

“I’ll tell him,” Mott said. “But I think Conner would be a fool to pass you off as the prince. First chance after that crown landed on your head, you’d take a royal revenge on him.”

“Just tell him. Tell him I’ll be his prince.”

The next time I heard footsteps on the stairs, I expected it to be Mott or Cregan. But the footsteps fell too lightly. It was impenetrably dark in here, and when the glow from a candle rounded the corner, its dim light was harsh on my eyes.

I squinted, and my dry voice was hoarse as I asked, “Who’s there?”

There was no answer. The door to the dungeon opened, and only then did I recognize Imogen. She held a finger to her lips to silence any further questions, then withdrew a flask from her skirt. She raised it to my mouth and let me gulp in cool water until I shook my head that I’d had enough. Also hidden beneath her skirt was a warm roll. She helped me eat it, then wiped my mouth with her fingers so there would be no sign of food or water.

“Thank you,” I said.

After a slight hesitation, she whispered, “You look awful.”

My eyes widened. “You talk?”

Her voice was soft and low. “You must keep two secrets for me. That I can talk, and that I came here tonight.”

“Why did you come?”

“It’s been more than a day since they brought you here. I don’t know how much longer Conner will keep you here. Can’t you give him what he wants?”

I shook my head. “He wants to own me. If I give in to him on this, then there’s nothing left of me.”

She offered me more water, which I gratefully accepted. “I should have brought you more to eat,” she said. “But I was afraid they’d notice.”

I closed my eyes to rest them for a moment, then opened them and asked, “That bruise I saw the other night, was it my fault?”

“I had troubles before you came, and they’ll continue after you’re gone. Besides, right now you should worry more about yourself.”

“Who hurts you?”

“Do you know how ridiculous that question is, coming from someone in your position?” The encouraging smile she had forced onto her face faded. “I’m fine. Some days are harder than others, that’s all. And it’s easy for them to pick on me, because they know I’ll never tell.”

“Why do you pretend to be a mute?”

She lowered her eyes, then looked back into mine. “It turned Conner’s attention away. It’s better this way, trust me.”

We fell silent for a moment, then Imogen tilted the flask. “It’s finished. I’ll bring you more later if I can get away.”

“Don’t risk it. He’ll let me go soon. He has to.”

Imogen exited the dungeon, fastening the door as it had been before. Looking back through the bars, she said, “Don’t give up, Sage, and don’t give in to him. Please. A lot of us are watching you, and we need to see that it’s possible to win.”

She disappeared as quickly and quietly as she had come. With just the bit of food in my stomach, I was able to relax a little. And for the first time ever, I learned to sleep standing up.

I
t was impossible to know what time it was when Mott and Cregan returned for me again. It didn’t feel as if I’d had any rest, but my arms ached so badly, I was sure I’d slept for some time. Whatever food Imogen gave me had long ceased to offer any comfort.

Cregan reached the dungeon first and got directly in my face. With a snarl, he asked, “Where’s the rock?”

“Gold,” I mumbled.

“Enough!” Mott pulled Cregan’s outstretched arm down. “This is between the boy and the master. Not you.”

Cregan grabbed my hair to force me to look at him. “You’re not the prince yet, so I can tell you this. I’m going to do everything in my power to see that Conner chooses one of the other two boys. Because after they ride off to the castle, I’m going to kill you myself. And you will beg for mercy, but you’ll come to understand just how merciless I can be.”

“I said, enough,” Mott repeated. “Let him down, Cregan.”

They released the chains and I crumpled to the floor like a rag doll. Cregan kicked me lightly until I let him have the satisfaction of a groan, and then dropped an armful of clothes on me. “The master wishes to speak with you. Get dressed.”

I didn’t move until Mott finally crouched to the floor and began dressing me. Then he cursed and said to Cregan, “He’s bled through on his bandages. Get me some more.”

“I’ll have to get them from upstairs,” Cregan said. “We didn’t have much down here before.”

“Then get them.”

Cregan’s footsteps pounded up the stairs. While I lay facedown on the filthy floor, Mott worked silently to remove my bandages. One of them pulled where dried sweat and blood had bonded it to my skin. I cringed and Mott breathed an apology.

With tears in my eyes I said, “You have to help me. Please, Mott. I can’t do this.”

“I work for Conner, not you.” Then after a moment, he sighed tiredly and added, “After all this, the master is still considering you. That says a lot. It’s time to stop thinking of yourself as an orphan and look at yourself as a prince.”

“I will always be an orphan now.” And for the first time in as long as I could remember, I cried. I cried for my lost family, and for every circumstance in my life that had led me here. Mott held my forehead until calm slowly returned to me.

“Forgive me,” I mumbled.

“You’re half-starved and exhausted,” he said. “Forgive me that it was my job to bring this upon you.”

Moments later, Cregan returned. He handed the new bandage to Mott and then stood back as Mott carefully peeled away the rest of the old one.

“Give me a light,” he directed Cregan.

Cregan handed him a candle, which they held close to me. “It’s going to scar,” Mott said. “It cut deeper than I had thought. But I think, so far, we saved it from any infection.” They poured more of the liquid onto the cut. I clawed at the floor for relief from the pain but made little sound. There was no energy for that.

The sting passed and they wrapped me in a new bandage. It took both Mott’s and Cregan’s help to get me dressed, then they walked me up the stairs. The early morning light was fierce on my eyes and I stumbled backward, anything to get away from so much sun.

“Get him some water,” Mott said to someone nearby while still holding me firmly.

A cup appeared and Mott pressed it to my lips. I took a few sips, then turned my head away. The light didn’t hurt so badly now. I faintly realized how much I’d missed seeing it.

“We can’t delay any longer,” Mott said. “Let’s take him to Conner.”

They sat me in a chair facing Conner’s desk. Conner stared at me for what seemed like an eternity, and then said, “You look terrible.”

I said nothing.

“If you learn nothing else during your time here, Sage, perhaps you will learn not to defy me. You were two nights down there; did you know it’s been so long? I hope you had time to reflect that disobedience to me will bring you nothing but misery.”

Again, I had no response. It occurred to me that obedience to him offered its own form of misery, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Besides, it hurt to talk.

Conner nodded at Mott, who brought out a tray and set it on Conner’s desk. It was filled with items I recognized as having come from various hiding places around my bed and my drawers.

Conner picked up a few things that I’d pickpocketed over the last few days: a butter knife, a gold cuff link, several coins. “No need to ask about these,” he said. “You’ve obviously managed to find time amongst your other studies to steal from me and those in this household.”

Yes, that was obvious, so I remained silent.

Then Conner picked up some papers. “But I must ask about these. Do you know what’s on them?”

“I don’t know what you’re looking at,” I mumbled.

“They’re notes someone made. Whoever wrote them seems to have detailed some strange plans. They may be interpreted as ways to get rid of me should he become king. Everything from the rather nonoffensive appointing me as a foreign ambassador to poisoning my wine. Who wrote this, Sage?”

I shook my head. “Is your name on it?”

“Of course not. As I said, this is only my interpretation of the notes. Tell me who wrote them so I can ask about it.”

“I wanted to practice writing with my right hand. I found these in a bin, set for fire kindling.”

“I must ask you directly, did you write these notes?”

I started to laugh, then choked on it as a pain thumped in my side. “You can’t think I’m that foolish.”

“Roden couldn’t have made these notes either,” Conner said. “It must be Tobias.”

“Ask him, then.”

“I think not,” Conner said. “I believe I’ll let Tobias rest secure in the belief that he’s in the lead for my decision. The more confident he is, if he authored these pages, that overconfidence will guide him to expose himself.” Conner chuckled, and then added, “I’m sure this secret is safe between you and me, correct?”

He didn’t wait for a response and I offered none. Conner stood and walked over to me. He lifted my face and inspected it for cuts or bruises. “You’re none the worse after a stay in my dungeons. I hope the experience humbled you.”

He took the blank expression on my face as an answer and continued, “You’re a difficult young man, Sage, but I suspect that comes from your lack of discipline and supervision, which means I can train it out of you. I’ve heard that down in the dungeons, you told Mott you would be my prince. Is that so?”

“You need me.”

“Why is that?”

It took a few seconds to collect my breath to answer. “Tobias and Roden can’t convince the regents. I can.”

“So you’ll be
their
prince,” Conner said. “But will you be
my
prince?”

Slowly, I nodded. Conner smiled and said, “You have one more week to prove it to me. Sleep today and you’ll resume lessons tomorrow. Now go get some rest.”

He never asked me about the rock, but he got what he really wanted. I had promised to be his prince.