“What will you do?” Jenrosa asked.
Lynan shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe King Tomar will help. But the first thing I have to do is get out of Kendra.”
Pirem moved to the stable door and waved to him. “There is still no one here. Go now, your Highness, while you can. Quickly!”
Lynan led the mare out to the open and mounted, then turned to say goodbye to his companions.
“You there! Get off that horse!”
Startled by the sound, the horse turned on its rear legs. Lynan saw five guards running toward him from the palace. Pirem jumped forward and slapped the horse on the rump. The animal bolted, almost unseating Lynan.
“Flee, Lynan!” Pirem shouted. “Flee for your life!”
Lynan did not know what to do. He wanted to ride away as fast as the mare could take him, but he could not just leave his friends like this. Pirem saw his indecision and drew his dagger.
“There is nothing you can do for us!” he cried. “Flee!”
Pirem turned and ran toward the guards, shouting an old war cry and waving his dagger above his head. The first guard tried to meet Pirem’s assault head on, but Pirem had been a soldier longer than a servant. He dived under the sword and swept up with his dagger, lodging it into the guard’s chest. As the man reeled back, Pirem wrested the sword from his hand and charged again.
After seeing the fate of their companion, the four surviving guards were more cautious. They kept their swords low and waited for the old man to come to them. Pirem swerved at the last moment to take the one on his far right, but his opponents were younger and more agile than he. There was a flurry of sword play, then Pirem cried out and dropped to the ground, his weapon clattering to the earth next to his bleeding body.
Jenrosa panicked and bolted, aiming for the servants’ door Pirem had led them through. The guards set off in pursuit.
“Oh, God, no!” Lynan cried. He drew his sword, kicked his horse into action and galloped toward the guards. Two of them slowed down and spread out, trying to cut off his escape route. He charged the nearest.
The guard brought up his own weapon in a high block, but Lynan loosened his left foot from the stirrup and slumped low over the mare’s right shoulder, swinging his sword up and out, striking the guard’s jaw and slicing along his throat like a barber’s razor. The guard grasped at the wound, dark blood spouting between his fingers, and collapsed without a sound.
Lynan wheeled the horse around to face the guard on his right, but it was already too late. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the silhouette of a man behind him. A hand grasped his left foot, still out of the stirrup, and pushed it up and over the mare’s back. Lynan landed heavily on the ground, his breath whooshing out. A sharp pain in his side made him feel instantly nauseous. For a second he blacked out, and when he came to, he was on his back. Through a haze he could see a guard standing over him, his sword tickling Lynan’s throat, and two others standing back a few paces, Jenrosa struggling futilely in their arms.
“Your Highness,” the guard over him said in a bitter voice, “for what you did to King Berayma tonight, I’m going to skewer you like a bird on a spit.”
Lynan saw him bunch his muscles for the killing stroke when suddenly a shadow loomed over both of them. The guard gasped as a spear sprouted from his chest. He was pulled back off his feet and sent spinning away. A second, misshapen shadow cut down one of the guards holding Jenrosa, and the last guard turned on his heel and ran.
A strong hand grabbed Lynan by the hair and pulled him to his feet. Lynan found himself staring at a salt-and-pepper beard and blue eyes.
“Are you all right, lad?”
“Kumul?”
“What a silly bloody question,” the constable said. Still holding the prince by the hair, he spun him around so he could see the second rescuer.
“And Ager,” Lynan said weakly. And then he remembered the magicker. “Jenrosa—”
“I’m all right,” said her voice beside him. She was horribly pale and her whole body was shaking. She was staring at the body of the guard Kumul had killed.
“The last guard!” Lynan said, remembering now that he had seen him running away. “He will tell others where we are!”
“I’m too old to go chasing after him, and Ager here, for all his agility, couldn’t run after a lame infant.” Kumul turned to Jenrosa and Ager. “We need another three horses.”
Jenrosa looked up at the constable strangely, then hurried back to the stables, Ager hobbling behind.
“Do you think you can stand on your own, your Highness? I’ve got to help the others. We haven’t much time.”
Lynan nodded vaguely and immediately felt his support go. He spread his feet wide to steady himself and looked around for his mare. She was standing twenty paces away, not far from the guard Lynan had dropped.
I’ve killed my second man, he thought, and then felt wretched because the fellow had been one of the Royal Guards.
He tried to control the heaving, but without success. He emptied his stomach. Groaning, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then tottered over to the horse. He returned to the stable, retrieving his sword on the way and cleaning the blade against his pants. Within two minutes he was joined by the others. All three mounted and the four headed down behind the stables and away from the palace. As they disappeared into the long shadows that covered the slope down to the city below, they heard behind them the first sounds of hue and cry.
“Ride hard!” Kumul roared. The four kicked their horses into a gallop, then hung on for dear life as they descended into the darkness.
Chapter 11
Orkid stood in the doorway to Lynan’s chambers while Dejanus searched the rooms for any hint of where the prince might be.
“He can’t be far,” Dejanus said. “My guards are at all the gates. He must still be in the palace.”
“Unless Pirem found him,” Orkid said.
Dejanus left the room. “His sword is gone, and the Key.” He looked desperately at Orkid. “What now? We need his corpse to blame for Berayma’s death—”
“There’s no need to change the plan,” Orkid said, thinking. “Not yet, anyway. Your guards may still find and kill him for us.”
“I’ll organize the hunt and make sure,” he said.
“And I will wake Areava and tell her the tragic news about her brother.” Dejanus started to leave, but Orkid held him back and whispered fiercely in his ear: “And never forget the plan! We can gather all the willing witnesses we need once we have Lynan’s and Kumul’s bodies. Areava will believe the worst of her brother. And remember when you see her that she is queen now. Make sure your guards treat her as such.”
*
When Lynan and his companions reached the original city wall, they slowed their mounts to a steady walk. They needed to recover from their hair-raising descent, being almost as winded as their horses.
They passed as quietly as possible through the narrow streets and alleys of old Kendra. There were some people about, marking the passing of good Queen Usharna and the start of Berayma’s reign, and the companions could hear snatches of song as they passed inns and taverns open late for the occasion.
Lynan had no idea where Kumul was leading them. He sat on his horse like someone with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He could not shake the feeling of nausea from his stomach, nor the images of Pirem’s tragic death and the guard he had killed. He had to swallow continually to keep the bile down. Jenrosa rode beside him, dazed by events and her predicament. Behind them came Ager, grimly silent. Only Kumul seemed to show any purpose, his face a mixture of alertness and barely repressed anger.