Amarinda left with her entourage early the next morning and our tutoring schedule resumed. Roden’s reading wasn’t fluent, but he was amazing, considering how recently he’d begun learning. I thought he would be good enough to get by if Conner chose him as prince.
Mott pulled me out of Mistress Havala’s class to work on sword fighting with him, even though I insisted I couldn’t fight with my back in bandages.
“If we wait for a full healing, it’ll be too late,” he said. “We’ll both use wooden swords today.” He took one for himself and tossed me the other. I jumped away from it and it landed in the dirt.
“Afraid of a wooden sword?” Mott teased.
“Just demonstrating my skills in evading an attack,” I said, a grin tugging at the edge of my mouth. “Impressed?”
“No. Pick it up.”
When I complied, Mott stepped me through the basic defensive moves. “If you can’t attack like Jaron, at least I can teach you to defend yourself.”
He thrust his sword at me. I moved mine in an attempt to block it, but his went right past mine and jabbed my ribs.
“You’re worse than when I last saw you,” Mott said.
“You shouldn’t have whipped me so hard.”
“You shouldn’t have let yourself get stabbed.”
I smiled and swung my sword low to the left, getting in a swat on his thigh.
“Not bad,” Mott said, “but you lack the discipline that would be expected of a prince.”
“I could always say that I’m out of practice.”
“Nonsense. Prince Jaron was an amazing swordsman for his age before he disappeared. You cannot be as pathetic as you are now and hope to pass for him. Why do you think his sword was made?”
I blocked his attempt to graze my shoulder. “Maybe to encourage him to take his studies more seriously.”
“Jaron always took sword fighting seriously. He is known to have once declared in front of the entire court that he intended to lead the Carthyan armies in war one day.”
“Then he sounds like a fool,” I said, thrusting forward. Mott dodged me and easily blocked my move. “Mistress Havala said that Eckbert was a peaceable ruler, at all costs. Carthya has avoided war for generations.”
“Carthya has enemies, Sage. Darius understood that. Perhaps Jaron did as well. Their father never did.”
“Are you saying Eckbert was a bad king?”
“He wasn’t evil. Just naïve. Each year, his enemies have grown stronger, forged alliances, stockpiled their weapons. Eckbert failed to see their hungry eyes as they looked toward Carthya.” Mott shrugged. “He failed to see the enemies within his own castle.”
I used the opportunity to jab at his side, then followed it with a slice that threw his sword off balance. Mott backed up two steps and readjusted his grip. “Good move, Sage. Very unexpected.”
“I fought better with Jaron’s sword,” I said.
“You fought better because it was a superior sword, even as an imitation. It’s too bad that it’s been taken. Conner now believes it wasn’t any of you three boys. He thinks one of the servants took it to sell, knowing you boys would get the blame for it.”
“Cregan probably took it to help train Roden.”
“Unlikely. You dislike Cregan, Sage, but he serves Conner well. He’d do anything Conner asked.”
“So would you.”
Mott stopped and lowered his sword. “I wouldn’t kill for him. That’s my limit.”
I couldn’t let that go unanswered. “Then your limits are meaningless. Cregan killed Latamer on Conner’s orders, and you helped it happen. That’s the same thing.”
Something flickered in Mott’s eyes. He pressed his lips together and said, “Our lesson is over. Hang up your sword and I’ll walk you back to the house.”
The rest of the day was taken up with lessons. So much information was being pushed into our heads that it’s a wonder none of them exploded. Tobias was eventually sent back to our room as punishment for sleeping during the lesson, and he was clearly relieved to be going. That gave a burst of energy to Roden, who saw it as his chance to be the star student. After all, I wasn’t much more interested than Tobias had been.
Tobias stopped me in the hall as we were being escorted to dinner with Conner that evening. “You remember your promise to me, right? You’ll make sure I live through this?”
“That’s still my promise,” I said.
Tobias exhaled a sigh of relief. “Then let me help you become the prince. What do you need?”
“I want nothing from you, Tobias. Just loyalty, if I’m chosen.”
Tobias lowered his voice further. “I wasn’t going to kill you the other night. I never had any intention of doing that. The knife was sharper than I thought. What I thought was only a surface wound —”
“It will heal.”
“I think Mott suspects the truth. Maybe Conner too.”
“You have my promise, Tobias. You will live.”
“I trust you.” Tobias paused, as if he were weighing his own words. “I do, Sage. I trust you.”
“Keep up, you two,” Mott called back to us. “Conner is waiting.”
We caught up to Roden and Mott shortly before we arrived at the dining room. Once there, Mott opened the door to allow Roden and Tobias in, but he put a hand on my shoulder to hold me back and shut the door again.
My heart raced, but I tried to keep my expression calm. Mott looked very serious and I had no trouble thinking of any number of reasons why he might be about to punish me.
“Whatever you think I’ve done —” I began, but he shook his head to silence me.
“I didn’t know he was going to kill Latamer,” Mott said in a low voice. “You had it figured out before I did.”
The memory of Latamer turning just before he was struck with Cregan’s arrow was burned into my mind. It was relentless in my dreams at night and haunted my steps in the day. If only I’d realized what was happening a few seconds earlier, it might have been enough to save him.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I guess I just wanted you to know that I remember what you said down in the dungeons. Conner doesn’t own me either.”
Conner had news for us that evening. “Do you remember when we spoke of the prime regent, Veldergrath? He is the one who aspires to become king, the one we must prevent from taking the throne because of the damage he will do to Carthya. I received an interesting letter from him tonight, which is both distressing and encouraging.” To illustrate, Conner held up a few papers, which I assumed was Veldergrath’s letter. “The encouraging news is that he has heard the rumor that Prince Jaron may be alive. I knew he was meeting Princess Amarinda earlier today, to travel with her as far as Eberstein on the outskirts of Drylliad, where he maintains a home. I expect she told him. This bodes well for my prince’s acceptance at court, if it is less of a surprise when I announce him.”
“And the bad news?” I asked.
“The bad news is that word is also spreading of the king’s and queen’s deaths. A decision cannot be made as to who will take the throne until the end of this week, but Veldergrath will use the fear of their deaths to build up more support for himself. He wrote to ask me whether I have any solid information as to Prince Jaron’s whereabouts. My response to him was non-specific, which will test his patience, but it does buy us another day.”
“Another day for what?” Tobias asked.
Conner took a deep breath, and then said, “I will choose my prince in two days’ time, then we will leave immediately for Drylliad.”
Tobias, Roden, and I looked at one another. There was surprisingly little enthusiasm from any of us, and Conner noticed.
“I might have expected some excitement,” he said.
“What will become of the two boys who aren’t chosen?” I asked.
Conner paused, then he said, “I haven’t decided that yet.”
Everyone in the room knew that was a lie.
