Part 4 (2/2)

”But, sire-”

Tobeszijian turned and strode on, closing his ears to Suchin's cries. His heart was stone now, his temper a fire that had seared him. With every stride through his empty palace his resolve hardened. He knew exactly what to do next, and he did not hesitate.

The bay horse he had ridden to the doors of the palace still wandered about on the portico with its reins dangling. It snorted when Tobeszijian appeared, but seemed glad to be caught. Most of the rosettes braided in its flowing black mane had already fallen off.

Tobeszijian placed both children in front of the saddle and swung up with a soft jingle of his silver spurs.

Pulling on his gauntlets against the cold air, he sent the horse plunging down the wide steps and across the grand courtyard, riding past the fountain with its grand basin and cavorting sea creatures carved of stone.

The fountain had been shut down, and the water in the basin had pieces of ice floating in it. Tobeszijian gave it not a second glance and touched his spurs to the horse, sending it galloping straight across the orderly plantings between the courtyard and the curving road.

He returned to the stables, where the serfs sweeping the snow off the cobbles fled at the sight of him and stood peeking out from the shadows behind the piles of frozen fodder. Tobeszijian dismounted and pulled his children down off the horse, while a stableboy hurried to hold the bridle. Tobeszijian glanced at the boy. ”Inform the stablemaster that I want the darsteed,” he said quietly.

The boy gaped at him stupidly, looking frozen with alarm.

”Now,” Tobeszijian snapped.

The boy went shuffling toward the stables, leading the bay horse. Thiatereika tugged at her father's cloak. ”Are we going riding, my papa?” she asked.

He saw a group of hirelances coming from the guardhouse. His stomach tightened.

”Are we going riding, my papa?” Thiatereika asked again. ”Are we going riding?

Are we?”

”Yes,” he said without glancing at her. He felt a sudden fear that his plan would not work.

Faldain had discovered something on the ground and was bending over, spraddle-legged, to examine it.

His small, gloved fingers worked busily. ”When are we going riding?” Thiatereika asked him. ”Are we going soon? Is that why I have so many clothes on? I'm not cold, my papa. I want to go riding now.”

”Yes,” he said distractedly, watching the hirelances come. ”Very soon.” From inside the round fortified stall the darsteed scented him and bugled. Its thoughts, like smoking brands, came at him: RunIrunIrunIrun. Soon, he answered it with his mind.

Faldain straightened up, staggering to catch his balance, and grinned at Tobeszijian. ”Soon!” he crowed.

A little startled, Tobeszijian stared at him, wondering if the child had overheard his thoughts. But by then the hirelances had reached him. They fanned out, surrounding him in a circle of menace.

”Ready to surrender now?” Bork asked him.

The Gantese's small dark eyes stared deep into Tobeszijian's as though trying to read his thoughts, but Tobeszijian steeled himself against any flicker of communication and felt nothing touch him.

From the round stall a series of powerful thuds could be heard. The darsteed grew louder and more frantic.

Tobeszijian let his gaze stray in that direction. ”I thought I would exercise the brute. It gets vicious when it's neglected.”

Bork's eyes had shrunk to pinp.r.i.c.ks of suspicion. He pointed at the children.

”What are they?”

Tobeszijian's chin jutted, and his eyes grew cold. ”His royal highness, Prince Faldain,” he said in a voice like iron. ”Her royal highness, Princess Thiatereika.”

Hearing her name spoken, Thiatereika turned and skipped over to Tobeszijian's side. She glared up into Bork's hatchet face without fear. ”You aren't one of our guardsmen,” she declared. ”You wear strange boots.” Tobeszijian glared at the man. ”You sent some of your varlets to seize my children from their chambers, Bork. With what intent?” Bork shrugged. ”I follow orders.” ”They stay with me.”

Bork's fangs showed. ”In your land, the mothers keep their young close by. It makes them soft and feeble. Is the queen dead now?” ”No,” Tobeszijian lied swiftly, conscious of little ears listening to every word. ”She sleeps, and I would not have her rest disturbed by these two.” ”A king, herding his own young?” Bork asked in astonishment. ”You lie.” Tobeszijian's hand slapped against his sword hilt, and several of the hirelances reached for their own weapons. Bork held up his hand to stop them, and sent Tobeszijian one of his thin-lipped smiles.

”You lie,” he repeated more softly. ”You and I both know it. A king does not do servant's work.”

”He might when there are no servants to do the work,” Tobeszijian retorted. ”The palace is empty, except for one old woman who tends the queen. Or haven't you gone inside yet? I suppose you haven't, for there's been no looting done.” It was Bork's turn to stiffen at the insult. Tobeszijian faced him, steely-eyed and unflinching.

Bork scowled at him. ”Surrender your sword. Now.”

Tobeszijian reached for Mirengard slowly. Inside, his heart was already knotting with more worry. He would have to fight them, and the children were in the way. Thod's bones, how was he to get them in the clear?

A commotion in the stableyard gave him his answer.

He spun around, the hirelances turning with him, and saw five sweating stableboys bringing the darsteed out with throat poles. The stablemaster and another boy followed, carrying the armored body cloth and special saddle. The darsteed was a huge, snorting brute. As black as evil, its slitted eyes glowed red.

Hot, acidic saliva dripped off its fangs to hiss upon the icy ground. The sweating, frightened boys maneuvered it around, forcing it to go near the mounting blocks.

Inside the stables, the horses must have sensed that the darsteed was out. Several of them whinnied in alarm, and the darsteed slung its head in that direction. It was bred to hunt and attack anything that moved. It lunged in the direction of the barns, but the boys held it in place.

Roaring in fury, it shook its snakelike head violently and slashed out with razor-sharp hooves. The boys screamed in fear, and one of them dropped his throat pole. At once the darsteed charged, but the others managed to hold it back. The beast shot flames from its nostrils, scorching the paving stones. Again it shook its powerful neck and head, shuddering in an effort to throw its handlers off their feet. The boy who'd fallen scrambled back up and darted forward to seize the dangling throat pole. The darsteed slashed at him, but missed. Enraged, it lashed its barbed tail from side to side. The stablemaster flung the armor cloth over the beast's humped back and fastened it with swift expertise. The cloth clanked with its movements, and the darsteed roared at the saddle, which was being carried closer now. It lunged, and the boys barely held it in check. The darsteed flung up its head and reared high, and the stablemaster hurried to throw the saddle on its back. He reached under the creature's belly for the cinch, missed, and grabbed again. The darsteed kicked him, and a b.l.o.o.d.y gash opened in the stablemaster's leg. Crying out, he yanked up the cinch hard enough to make the darsteed grunt, and stumbled back, limping and clutching his leg.

The darsteed's nostrils flared, sniffing the scent of fresh blood. Its lean head followed the stablemaster, and one of the boys shouted a warning. Faldain squealed with laughter and darted between the hirelancesencircling Tobeszijian. Grabbing at the child, Tobeszijian missed, and Faldain escaped. Seeing his son run straight at the darsteed, Tobeszijian's heart lurched in his chest. ”Stop him!” he shouted.

Bork laughed, and none of the hirelances moved to obey Tobeszijian's command. Horrified, Tobeszijian tried to go after Faldain himself, but Bork blocked his path.

”You said you wanted to go riding with your young,” he said with a laugh that showed his fangs. ”Now we will see the truth.”

Tobeszijian took a step back and sent his mind to the darsteed, touching cool intelligent reason to hot b.e.s.t.i.a.lity. The darsteed quieted at once, despite the child's approach. Its mind held resentment, but it was forced to subject itself to Tobeszijian's command.

StillIstillIstillIstill, Tobeszijian told it.

Breathing smoky plumes in the cold air, the darsteed stood motionless, watching Faldain's approach with its red eyes. The child toddled right up to it, well within striking range, and stopped, laughing and reaching up to the creature with innocent, chubby fingers.

”In Thod's name,” the stablemaster breathed, watching with horrified eyes. ”Hoi, you and Rafe try to get him away from that devil's sp.a.w.n.” ”Let his highness be,” Tobeszijian forced himself to say calmly while Bork's eyes widened. ”After all, this will be his war mount someday. They might as well become acquainted.”

”You bluff well,” Bork murmured, unable to take his gaze from the sight of child and beast studying each other. ”But still you bluff.”

”Do I?” Tobeszijian replied through his teeth. He kept his face stony and calm, but inside his heart was thudding with anxiety.

Thiatereika tugged at his cloak. ”I can't see, my papa,” she said in frustration. ”What is Dainie doing with the black horse?” Tobeszijian lifted her into his arms. ”Making friends with it,” he said lightly, feeling sweat bead along his temples.

The darsteed was resisting his control. He could feel its hunger, like a clawing thing, and with dismay Tobeszijian remembered it had not been fed properly for many days now. Faldain was the perfect size for a meal. Oh, Thod, have mercy, he prayed.

Giggling as though conscious that he was the center of attention, Faldain glanced around at his audience, moved closer, and held up his hand again to the beast looming over him.

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