Honor-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book III ]

53

Mhera and Kaori were in the royal wing of the palace, where their private chambers lay. They had been thrown into an unoccupied chamber and had soon been joined by Lorekeeper Eovin, who, while not in his nightclothes like the others, was in shirtsleeves and without shoes. They had all been tied up and gagged, and they were well-guarded. Seated on the cold marble floor in nothing but her nightgown and chamber robe, Mhera shivered, drawing her limbs in closer to her body.

"We've cleared the wing," a soldier reported to Koren, who was pacing near the door, a sword hanging from his meaty fist.

"Good. And have you sent the signal?"

Mhera's heart stuttered. She exchanged a frightened glance with Eovin, whose left eye was puffy, swelling shut from a bruise that would darken deeply over the coming hours. The silence that met Koren's question, though, brought Mhera's attention back to their conversation.

"Well?" demanded the prince.

"I—ah—I'm not sure, Your Grace." The soldier bowed his head and backed away a couple of paces. "We—"

"Then find out!" Koren swung his sword, indicating the door, and the soldier hurried out. Meanwhile the archmage, who was surveying the grounds from the balcony, raised his voice.

"Your Grace, we have two runners, just beyond the hedge. I suspect they are headed to the gatehouse. They are moving stealthily, but they might have considered shedding their livery if they desired discretion."

Koren snapped his fingers and pointed at the balcony. Immediately, two of his men strode over that way, one of them readying a bow.

Mhera tried to speak, to plead, but the strip of cloth between her teeth smothered the sound of her cry. The archer nocked an arrow and drew, sighting down the shaft. The archmage waved a bony hand, indicating some part of the gardens. The soldier shifted his stance slowly at first, and then twitched into a sharper posture.

He'd seen his target. The point of his arrow slid at a snail's pace along his bowstring as he aimed, and then—

Thwick!

He loosed.

"Well done," said the archmage, his tone flat, almost bored. He turned away from the view as the soldier nocked another arrow, aiming for barely two seconds this time before loosing. "Keep watch. They may send others."

"We didn't kill enough of his men," Koren said. "What was it? A dozen? Fifteen? He should have twice the number patrolling the palace."

"We have set a watch at the crux of the great halls. We are secure, for the moment."

"Aye, we can hold our position, but if they raise the alarm?"

"We need only hold off until dawn breaks, Your Grace." The archmage indicated the balcony view with the slightest tip of his staff. Koren exhaled sharply through his nostrils and turned to the balcony himself; after a moment, he strode out to join the watchers, leaning on the stone balustrade.

Mhera caught the Lorekeeper's wide-eyed gaze. What did that mean? When dawn breaks—what? What had Koren and the archmage planned?

Have you sent the signal?

Did Koren have loyalists in the city, or more of these brutal soldiers? They were being quiet tonight; Mhera had heard her guards and others urging caution and silence, and the archmage seemed to be trying to keep restless Koren calm.

When dawn broke, would they leave silence and discretion behind?

Mhera looked down at Eovin's hands, which were bound at the wrist and resting against the small of his back. If only he could loosen his bonds so that he could move his arms, he might be able to muster some magic. Something to help them.

But what then? Eovin was one man. Mhera did not know how many Koren had with him, but it had to be two dozen or more. They could not stand against him. Not now. Not yet.

She breathed slowly through her nose, loosening her tight jaw and closing her eyes. She had to stay calm, stay steady. If they gave in to panic, they would certainly not survive this. Oh, how she wished she could communicate with Kaori and Eovin, if not to offer them a plan then at least to offer them comfort. She swallowed, struggling against the sting of tears.

She would not cry. She would not cry, not in front of these men. They could hold her prisoner, but they would not have her fear.

As Mhera warred for control of her emotions and tried to think, something bumped against her shoulder. She flinched away, opening her eyes again to see Kaori. Koren's men had tied him up, cracking jokes about his right arm, which ended just above the elbow. Nevertheless, he had slid along the floor toward her, and it was his arm that had nudged her.

Mhera met Kaori's eyes. They could not speak, but she read his heart in his eyes. I'm here. We're in this together. Don't give up. With new determination, Mhera nodded, and he smiled briefly as best as he could around his gag.

On Mhera's other side, Eovin was sitting with his head low and his eyes closed. Mhera risked a glance at the two men who stood near them with their weapons drawn. When they were not looking, she slid her bare feet along the tiles and nudged Eovin's calf.

He flinched, just as she had; his body stiffened in anticipation of a blow or some new surprise. When he saw that it was Mhera, he relaxed. She heard him exhale through his nose, a defeated sigh.

She nudged him with her feet again and raised her eyebrows. Drawing back her feet so that the guards would not catch them trying to communicate, she met Eovin's gaze. She could tell he was in pain. His bruised face must ache terribly. Had it given him a headache? Had they done him more harm than she could see?

I'm here.

We're in this together.

Don't give up. Don't you dare give up.

Eovin stared at her for a long moment. Something in him seemed weak and tired, but she refused to look away, and as the seconds passed, that shadow did, too. He straightened, a new determination brightening his eyes.

I'm here, he said without speaking. We're in this together. I'm not giving up.

They were silent.

The room around them was silent.

The palace beyond was silent, too, and so was the vast and lonely night.