isn’t it?”
“Perhaps that’s why we never see the truth,” Marla agreed. “Even when it’s right in front of us.”
Elezaar offered no reply. He didn’t have to. He knew her well enough to understand she was no longer talking about Xanda and Luciena.
“See that she’s taken care of, Elezaar,” she ordered when the silence started to become tense.
“And make sure Xanda knows I want him to look after her, for me.”
“Was there anything else, your highness?”
“No,” she said, a little surprised to find herself choking back memories of what it was to be young and innocent and desperately in love. “Leave me.”
The dwarf bowed and then waddled to the door, leaving Marla alone. Impatiently, she wiped away an unexpected tear and took her wineglass from the table, downing the remainder in a single swallow.
“Don’t be a fool,” she muttered to herself.
Never regret anything. Never look back and wonder . Was that one of the dwarf’s damned Rules of Gaining and Wielding Power? It ought to be. Because who would have thought the memory of Nash Hawksword would still hurt so much after all these years?
Chapter 8
It was several days after Damin almost managed to kill Almodavar that the captain sent for Starros to discuss the young man’s plans for the future. Starros wasn’t sure if the two events were related.
They might have been. Since he was five years old, Starros had been a fosterling of the Wolfblade family. It was the custom in Hythrun highborn families to attempt to confuse potential assassins by surrounding the heir to the house with other children. The theory was that if an assassin could not identify the real heir, he might leave all the children alone.
To Starros’s considerable relief, the theory had never been put to the test in Krakandar. Mahkas Damaran, Damin’s uncle and Krakandar’s Regent, was vigilant to the point of being obsessed with his nephew’s safety. The palace was too well guarded, the staff too well vetted, to present a danger to Damin or anybody else in the household.
But Damin had now proved capable of defending himself against a full-grown man. What need was there for a decoy any longer for a boy so skilled in the martial arts? For that matter, it was almost a year since the boys had even shared a room. When Starros turned fifteen, as was the custom among the nobility, he had been given access to the palace court’esa . As this milestone meant he was, while not considered a man, then at least no longer a child, Starros had moved in with Xanda Taranger, Damin’s older cousin, until he left for Greenharbour last winter. Damin was still only twelve and it wasn’t considered appropriate for a boy so young to be introduced to a court’esa ’s special skills. It was then that Damin begged his uncle to get rid of the armed guard who had stood over him while he slept since the first attempt on his life when he was four years old.
Mahkas had agreed, on the condition Damin could prove he was capable of looking after himself. The young prince had proved it resoundingly.
Perhaps Almodavar isn’t sending for me to tell me I’m no longer needed as a decoy , Starros mused, as he neared the barracks. Perhaps Almodavar is sending for me to tell me I’m no longer needed at all .
“How many times do I have to tell you, boy?” a familiar voice barked behind him. “Don’t slouch!”
Starros stopped and turned to face Krakandar’s most senior captain. Almodavar’s face, while not exactly fierce, wore enough nicks and scars to be well on its way to earning such a title. Starros knew the rumours that Almodavar was his father as well as anyone in Krakandar, but there was no family resemblance that Starros could see. He was slender and fair; Almodavar was big and dark, and he certainly never treated Starros like a son. For that matter, Almodavar never treated Starros any differently to the way he treated Damin, or Narvell, or Damin’s stepbrothers, so
“Perhaps that’s why we never see the truth,” Marla agreed. “Even when it’s right in front of us.”
Elezaar offered no reply. He didn’t have to. He knew her well enough to understand she was no longer talking about Xanda and Luciena.
“See that she’s taken care of, Elezaar,” she ordered when the silence started to become tense.
“And make sure Xanda knows I want him to look after her, for me.”
“Was there anything else, your highness?”
“No,” she said, a little surprised to find herself choking back memories of what it was to be young and innocent and desperately in love. “Leave me.”
The dwarf bowed and then waddled to the door, leaving Marla alone. Impatiently, she wiped away an unexpected tear and took her wineglass from the table, downing the remainder in a single swallow.
“Don’t be a fool,” she muttered to herself.
Never regret anything. Never look back and wonder . Was that one of the dwarf’s damned Rules of Gaining and Wielding Power? It ought to be. Because who would have thought the memory of Nash Hawksword would still hurt so much after all these years?
Chapter 8
It was several days after Damin almost managed to kill Almodavar that the captain sent for Starros to discuss the young man’s plans for the future. Starros wasn’t sure if the two events were related.
They might have been. Since he was five years old, Starros had been a fosterling of the Wolfblade family. It was the custom in Hythrun highborn families to attempt to confuse potential assassins by surrounding the heir to the house with other children. The theory was that if an assassin could not identify the real heir, he might leave all the children alone.
To Starros’s considerable relief, the theory had never been put to the test in Krakandar. Mahkas Damaran, Damin’s uncle and Krakandar’s Regent, was vigilant to the point of being obsessed with his nephew’s safety. The palace was too well guarded, the staff too well vetted, to present a danger to Damin or anybody else in the household.
But Damin had now proved capable of defending himself against a full-grown man. What need was there for a decoy any longer for a boy so skilled in the martial arts? For that matter, it was almost a year since the boys had even shared a room. When Starros turned fifteen, as was the custom among the nobility, he had been given access to the palace court’esa . As this milestone meant he was, while not considered a man, then at least no longer a child, Starros had moved in with Xanda Taranger, Damin’s older cousin, until he left for Greenharbour last winter. Damin was still only twelve and it wasn’t considered appropriate for a boy so young to be introduced to a court’esa ’s special skills. It was then that Damin begged his uncle to get rid of the armed guard who had stood over him while he slept since the first attempt on his life when he was four years old.
Mahkas had agreed, on the condition Damin could prove he was capable of looking after himself. The young prince had proved it resoundingly.
Perhaps Almodavar isn’t sending for me to tell me I’m no longer needed as a decoy , Starros mused, as he neared the barracks. Perhaps Almodavar is sending for me to tell me I’m no longer needed at all .
“How many times do I have to tell you, boy?” a familiar voice barked behind him. “Don’t slouch!”
Starros stopped and turned to face Krakandar’s most senior captain. Almodavar’s face, while not exactly fierce, wore enough nicks and scars to be well on its way to earning such a title. Starros knew the rumours that Almodavar was his father as well as anyone in Krakandar, but there was no family resemblance that Starros could see. He was slender and fair; Almodavar was big and dark, and he certainly never treated Starros like a son. For that matter, Almodavar never treated Starros any differently to the way he treated Damin, or Narvell, or Damin’s stepbrothers, so
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