Nightfall could not recall the last time he had seen gold, let alone six coins at once. Though surprised, he allowed his features to reveal no reaction other than confusion. He squinted, brow crinkling. "What’s this for, noble sir?" He looked up, unable to keep from meeting Leyne’s stare again.
Leyne held the cold eyes with his own, his mood intense, obviously judging every word and movement. "It’s yours if you leave my brother’s service."
Nightfall’s dislike for Leyne turned to frank hatred. In response, he flung the gold at his feet, stomping each precious coin into the dirt. He met Leyne’s eyes again, this time hoping the ferocity of his infamous glare stung. He did not bother with words, certain his actions had spoken loudly enough.
Leyne’s expression was unreadable. This time, he pulled a pouch from beneath his cloak and opened it so Nightfall could clearly see the contents.
Nightfall tore his gaze from Leyne and cast it upon a treasure. Gold coins and trinkets filled an area nearly the size of his head, its value priceless.
"All this if you leave Edward in any fashion you devise." Leyne shook the contents slightly so that gold shifted across gold, the sound a muffled series of clinks.
Nightfall could not help imagining the uses for more wealth than he had accumulated in a lifetime of theft and butchery. Still, no amount of gold could purchase his soul; wealth served no purpose to a dead man. He did not reach for the bag, even from habit. Instead, he raised his eyes back to meet Leyne’s once more. "Noble sir, it is only because of the esteem in which I hold your brother that I don’t spit on you and your money." He whirled, storming toward his horse.
"Sudian, wait."
Nightfall stopped, but he did not turn.
"Sudian, please. Hear me out.”
Nightfall stepped around to face Prince Leyne once more. The shrewd eyes glimmered with joy, and neatly combed yellow hair perched high above features so similar to Edward’s yet intelligent-looking where the younger prince’s seemed only boyishly handsome and innocent.
"I love my brother, Sudian. You came from nowhere with a loyalty as fanatical as the most ardent priest. You can’t blame me not trusting you."
Nightfall said nothing. The highborn could teach him their ways and manners, but they could not change his inner feelings. He would place blame as he wished.
"The payment." Leyne returned the pouch of gold to his cloak. “It was a test. You passed gloriously, with more honor than any knight or noble here today."
Nightfall understood that Leyne gave him the highest praise he could muster, yet it did not wholly appease him. "Scant months ago, Ned would have turned that contest with a Mitanoan into a war of cause and conscience against slavery. Righteous rage might have driven him to kill." Leyne studied Nightfall as he spoke. "He would have credited his victory to the holy Father’s will rather than his own ability. He may not believe it, but he’s a reasonably good warrior."
"The best, Sire," Nightfall returned with habitual ease.
Leyne smiled. "That remains to be seen. He’s not better than me, I’m afraid, and I intend to win this duchy."
"Why?" Nightfall challenged. Then, realizing he had forgotten the title of respect, he continued as if he had not finished. "Sire, what need does a crown prince have for a duchy?”
Leyne shrugged as if the answer seemed too obvious for answer. "What use does any man have for a duchy? My father will live long, and I may never inherit the kingdom. Even if I do, we both believe I will appreciate my inheritance more if I understand the effort it took my forefathers to win Alyndar. Those who receive without toil become weak rulers and their offspring more so. More than one reigning line has degenerated into decadence and destroyed itself." His manner softened as he brought Nightfall into his confidence. "Besides, someday I’ll probably have more than one child of my own. Who does not inherit Alyndar will still have territory to rule."
The concept had seemed obvious to Nightfall from the start. Now, he needed to understand. "Sire, you would provide for your younger children? Why won’t your father do the same for my master? Surely, there’s enough of Alyndar for more than one."
"First, dividing a kingdom weakens it." Again, Leyne scrutinized Nightfall, though he had surely learned all from his previous efforts. "It would be better if what I say next did not reach Ned’s ears."
Nightfall nodded. "It is my mission, Sire, to do what’s best and safest for my master. So long as ignorance does not place my master in danger, I promise he will hear nothing of what you tell me.”
Leyne bobbed his head once as he made his decision. "My father is concerned about Ned’s ability to rule. He needs to win his land and title to truly appreciate and understand its complexities. Hardship and experience teaches."
"I understand hardship, Sire."
"Yes," Leyne grinned again, this time with genuine warmth. "My father said so. Though I think he worries still over his decision to let you squire, he believed you might have a good effect on Ned. I doubted it, concerned you would either prove as unworldly in your devotion to Ned as he with his to the causes he chooses or that you I had an agenda of your own in mind. Now, I can see my father was right, as always." Clearly, Rikard had not told Leyne about Nightfall’s identity, which meant almost certainly that only the king and his chancellor knew the truth.
Nightfall gained a new respect for King Rikard, now sure the king had not sent Prince Edward away to die. It required a competent mind to project how such an unlikely couple as Nightfall and Edward would fare, yet Rikard had, apparently, guessed well. Whether or not Edward got his land, the king had achieved his goal. Likely, it did not matter much whether the actual landing occurred so long as Edward benefited from the association. The fate of Nightfall’s soul, however, was not King Rikard’s concern. "So, noble sir, it would be very much in my master’s best interests to win this competition?"
Leyne laughed. "Certainly. But it won’t happen.” He sobered almost instantly, obviously realizing he had become insulting. "Not because of any frailty on Ned’s part, of course. I believed from the start he would win that first round if he tried at all. He’s better than he believes. He’s just used to sparring or watching me; and, with all modesty, I’m ranked the best on the continent. But it’s Ned’s first contest. And he’ll have me to fight, at least."
Nightfall took a chance. "Sire, if it’s in your brother’s best interests to win, why wouldn’t you let him."
Leyne’s forehead crinkled. "Let him? What do you mean let him? I’m cheering for him every match."
"Except against you, Sire."
"That goes without saying, of course." Leyne’s dark eyes went pensive as understanding seeped within. “You want me to purposely lose to him?" Horror and surprise tainted the question.
Nightfall’s shoulders rose and fell, leaving Leyne to work the suggestion through himself.
"That’s cheating. It’s dishonorable." Leyne shook his head so vigorously his yellow hair flew. “Ned would never feel good about winning in that manner. He would suffer from the shame for eternity."
Nightfall clung to the point. "Only if he knew you let him win. If he believed he had done so by his own skill…" He let the thought trail.
"No." Leyne’s dark eyes narrowed. "I would know, and I won’t forsake my honor for anyone. It’s unlikely Ned will make it far enough to compete against me. But if he does, he will win with his own hand or not at all." His features darkened, and his hands trembled slightly with anger. "This, I hope, is not what you’ve been teaching Ned."
Nightfall remained calm. "Sire, it’s my job to protect my master, not train him. I just thought, perhaps, my master’s brother would help him achieve the goals your father set. Help or not as you will. My master will win this contest with his own talent alone." Again, he spun around to leave and, again, Leyne stopped him with a word.