Unexpectedly warming to him, now that his expression seemed more resigned than angry, Stasya saw a glimmer of hope. If the king would listen to the explanation, maybe they'd all survive the experience. Wishing she could use just a little Voice to help her convince-—it was more the captain's presence than her oath that stopped her—she wet her lips and tried to sum up Annice's reasoning. "She helped the due escape because she doesn't think that he did what he was accused of."
"What he confessed to!" Liene snapped, wondering why nothing seemed to be making sense.
Stasya turned to face her captain. "Annice didn't think that confession was valid. She believes him when he says those aren't his words. Time to stand up and be counted. "I believe him, too."
"What!"
An imperious hand cut off the captain's protest. The king leaned forward. "Are you certain it's not Annice that you believe?"
Up until that point, Stasya hadn't been sure, but now, all of a sudden, she was. "I began by believing her," she admitted. "I ended up by believing him."
"Why?" Theron asked quietly.
"I watched him, Majesty, all the long way back from Ohrid, and Pjerin a'Stasiek is not the type to commit treason. He'd never allow anyone else to do his fighting for him. If he has an argument with you, he'll face you directly rather than try to stab you in the back."
"Even if he thinks he'll lose?"
"He wouldn't ever think that, Majesty."
"And I suppose your opinion is not likely to be influenced by his physical attributes," Theron mused, raised brows making the statement a question.
Stasya snorted. "You can count on it, Majesty."
"In your unbiased opinion then, leaving aside for a moment whether or not the due would commit treason in the first place, if he were caught, how would he behave?"
"He'd be defiant, Majesty. No question about it. He'd dare you to do your worst."
Theron nodded. "My thoughts exactly."
Stasya's eyes widened and she took an involuntary step forward. "You don't believe he did it either!"
"Your Majesty, I protest!" Liene charged around the corner of the desk so that she stood between the king and the younger bard. "The Due of Ohrid admitted his guilt not once but twice when questioned under Command. Belief doesn't come into it!"
"Your protest is noted, Captain," Theron told her calmly. "But belief very much comes into it. If I don't believe the man is guilty, I'm not going to order his death."
"But he was Commanded to speak only the truth!"
"Then, obviously, someone altered the truth."
Liene drew herself up to her full height, her eyes glittering dangerously. "Majesty, are you suggesting that one of my bards…"
"No." Theron cut her off abruptly. "I'm not."
Still scowling, the captain was left with nothing to say.
Stasya stepped into the silence. "Majesty, Pjerin said that during the time he was under Command, he felt pushed to the back of his head while someone else used his mouth, and the worst of it was that the words weren't so much outright lies as twisted bits of the truth. .He could remember most of them happening but not in the way they came out."
"He said all this to you?"
"To myself and Annice, yes, Majesty."
Theron slammed his fist down on the desk. Both bards jumped at the sudden explosion of sound. "But the arrogant fool would rather go to the block than say any of this to me! The stiff-necked young ass!" Drawing in a deep breath, he exhaled it all in a rush. "And Annice! Would rather commit treason herself…" His gold signet flashed as he waved a hand at Stasya. "… and convince you to help her with it, than come to me with her suspicions. Did they consider me such a tyrant that I wouldn't listen? Did they think I don't have eyes or ears of my own? By the Center, they deserve each other!"
Stasya couldn't help it, her nerves were stretched tight enough to strum and the last she'd seen of Annice and Pjerin they were having a low-voiced but edged argument over the best way to leave the Citadel. She snickered.
To her relief, Theron took no offense. He sat back in his chair and shook his head. "I can well imagine," he said with feeling. "The irresistible opinion meeting the immovable conceit. Well, you'd better bring them back before they kill each other and we can start straightening this mess out."
"Bring them back, Majesty?"
"Yes. Bring them back. Send a kigh with a message." He glanced from bard to bard. Both were looking as though they'd just stepped in something foul and sticky. "Is there a problem?" His tone made it clear that, if there was, they'd best overcome it and quickly.
"The kigh, the air kigh, that is, Majesty, won't have anything to do with Annice at this point in time."
Theron rubbed at his temples. Somehow, he wasn't surprised. Trust Annice to make it difficult. "So," he sighed. "What's she done to alienate them?"
"Your pardon, Majesty." Stasya jumped in before the captain could say anything. "But it really isn't our place to say."
"Yes, it is," Theron told her, his temper beginning to fray again. "It's your place to answer my questions. I'm the king. That's the way the system works. Now then, what has my sister done to alienate the kigh?"
The words "my sister" seemed to hang in the air. Even Theron seemed a little startled by them.
A hesitant tapping on the door became a welcome distraction.
At the king's barked command, the page came far enough into the room to be heard, but not so far he couldn't make a quick escape if it became necessary. "I—I didn't want to interrupt, Majesty, but there's a man out here and he has one of these."
The thin copper disk resting on the boy's outstretched palm bore the highly polished, raised image of a crowned ship. It gave the bearer access to the king at any time. In his ten years on the throne, Theron had given out only three.
"Does he have a name?"
"Yes, Majesty. Leonas."
Stasya shot the captain a startled look. The captain frowned.
Leonas walked into the king's private office as though he were walking into a chamber back in Bardic Hall. Stasya half expected to see him set down a tray of food and demand to know why they'd all tried to skip breakfast. He'd taken off his apron but apparently thought that his working clothes were suitable for a visit to his sovereign.
"I heard you sent for them," he said before anyone in the room could speak. "So I figured you'd found out and I'd save you the trouble of sending for me, too."
"You helped with this?" Theron demanded incredulously.
"Well, not exactly helped, Majesty, although I tried to see she ate right. But I knew about it."
"Then why didn't you see fit to inform me?"
Leonas shrugged. "Didn't seem like my place to tell you, Majesty. Kept hoping she'd tell you herself." He jerked his head at Stasya. "Where's the princess?"
Stasya opened her mouth but no sound came out. Leonas had been King Theron's spy? Finally she managed a strangled, "You shit! Annice trusted you!"
He stiffened. "And I never betrayed that trust. I served the princess to the best of my abilities." Glaring at the bard, he didn't see Theron's brows rise, but the captain did and she wondered if Leonas was even aware of the shift in his allegiance. He didn't appear to be as he asked, "Where is she?"
Still sputtering, Stasya was unsettled enough to answer. "She helped the Due of Ohrid escape from the dungeon last night and ended up going with him."
"What!"
"I thought you knew about it?" Theron stood and came out from around the desk.
"Not about this!" The older man looked stunned. "I figured you'd found out about the baby."
"The what!"
"The baby," Leonas repeated. He turned his attention back to Stasya. "What were you thinkin', letting her go off with this due fellow? I thought that you had more brains than that!"