Prince of Lies [COMPLETED]

Chapter 9

It took all night, but Viscon made hundreds of water barrels vanish.

The vampyre traveled between Thescan to Carnelia, the speed at which he filled the barrels and the strength he used to lift several of them at a time was astonishing.

Frederick felt useless as he watched the man working. The labors he performed with four horses took Viscon mere seconds. But as the sky paled from navy lavender, the vampyre moved slower and slower.

"Viscon," Frederick said, "it's nearly dawn. I think we've done all we can do for tonight."

Viscon panted and gripped the bridge of his nose. "Just a moment. I-I can do more."

"There are hardly any barrels left," Frederick insisted. "At this rate, I don't think you'll be able to take us back to Carnelia."

The King's Council would discover their ploy to help Carnelia soon, but still, Frederick could defend the decision. That wouldn't always be the case with his new wife. It had become a matter of which action led to the more severe consequence-and the King's Council had never seen a woman rip off a man's flesh like meat from a bone ...

Didn't mean he wanted to be in Thescan when the King's Council found out about the water.

"Just a moment," Viscon said.

Frederick raised a brow. "The evening guards have ignored us as instructed, but the guards coming soon can't afford to be so lenient in broad daylight. I'd rather spare myself the interrogation from the-"

Viscon's eyelids flickered, and he swayed on his feet before stumbling. Frederick shouted for him but couldn't reach him before he hit the ground. He rushed to Viscon and tapped his cheek, but Viscon didn't respond. "Viscon! Viscon."

He didn't wake up, and Frederick sat back on his knees, sighing at the sun as it peered from below the horizon. He had to make a decision and fast, and there was little time to make it.

#

Viscon gasped, the wagon creaking as he shot upright. "Master?"

"I'm here," Frederick called.

Viscon removed the blanket from his head and sucked down great gasps of air, blinking wildly at the surroundings of the forest.

Frederick lowered the reins to rest on the hook, then crossed his arms. "You pushed yourself too hard, Viscon. You should have told me you were exhausted."

Viscon vanished, reappearing on the driver's box by Frederick's side. "Pass the reins, Master."

"I'd like to steer the horses, if that's all right." Viscon shook his head, and Frederick was learning fast: Viscon had pride. Stubborn pride. "I miss my horses, so I'd like to spend as much time as possible before I send them back. And by send them back, I don't mean asking you to take them." He eyed the weary vampyre. "My beasts have a sense of direction unmatched by other horses. We will take them to the Carnelian castle, then escort them to the border and set them free."

Viscon swallowed. "You do not fear that the horses become lost or eaten?"

Frederick shrugged. "They are intelligent animals. They never get lost, and they certainly never get eaten. We build upon their already acute sense of smell to detect predators from miles away. I've taken them many places, gone to battle, and found them back where they belong when it's all over."

"Do all of them return home?"

Frederick tilted his head from side to side, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his neck. "No. Not all of them."

"And if they never go home?"

"Then they wish to be their own masters. Each horse has served me well, all of them with a loyalty more rigid than that of my men. If freedom is what they wish, then freedom is what they've earned."