The Monk's Habit (The Disinherited Prince Series Book 2) Read online

  “Truth be told, I’ve only been in the capital for a few weeks, sir.”

  “And caught the attention of Lord Regent in such a short time?”

  Pol had nearly been flustered until he realized that was what Greenhill intended. He took a breath. “I had my reasons, My Lord.”

  “I’ll bet you did. Is one of them a certain healer rotting in the city jail?”

  “That is one of them, My Lord.”

  Greenhill narrowed his eyes as if judging the balance of a sword. “That is all.”

  “The message to Lord Tamio, My Lord?” Pol said, now standing.

  “Tell him that you will do.”

  “With what, My Lord?”

  “Just relay my words. That will suffice. Be gone, young man.”

  ~

  After changing out of his soggy uniform, Pol wrote out his observations on his foray into the castle. He relayed Greenhill’s conversation, nearly word for word, but left out what he learned behind Lord Wibon’s closed-door session with the Queen, although he did mention the South Salvan’s talk of changes occurring soon.

  After lunch, Tamio walked into the office, and Pol stood at attention along with the other clerks. Tamio threw off his cape with a flourish and shook it before opening his door. He cast a glance at Pol.

  “Report?”

  Pol lifted up his papers. “Here, My Lord.”

  Tamio plucked them out of Pol’s hand and took them into his office.

  Some moments later, Tamio called for Pol through his door.

  “Yes, My Lord?” Pol said after closing the door behind him.

  “Good observations. I’m aware of the South Salvans placed within our midst. They already have control of the city guard. Does it trouble you?”

  “It does, Lord Tamio. King Astor is likely seeking to solidify his hold on Listya. At some point in time, he will invade North Salvan and depose my stepfather. It is rather clear, isn’t it?”

  “That is a possibility, at the least. Would your brother ally with King Astor to the detriment of your father?”

  Pol had to think back. “I don’t think so. He and his father are close.” And now Tamio probably knew that Landon was a target of the South Salvan King, if he hadn’t before.

  “Where do you stand on such a schism?”

  “I am sure the Emperor is aware of the possibility,” Pol said, “and an overt move by South Salvan in Listya will likely provoke an Imperial intervention.”

  “You are well-spoken for a churlish messenger boy…My Prince.”

  “I am not a prince,” Pol said.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I don’t support the schism. My preference is for South Salvan to remain South Salvan and my stepfather to continue as king in Borstall Castle.”

  “And what about Listya? Do you support what the royal couple is doing to Listya?”

  Pol broke out in a sweat. Tamio was trying to pin Pol down, and if he did, would he accuse Pol of treason?

  “I don’t support anything that would be against the Emperor’s wishes and that wouldn’t benefit the integrity of Listya,” Pol said. He wouldn’t say anything specific against Bythia or Landon to either Greenhill or Tamio.

  “Very well,” Tamio said. “I have another two messages and a Seeker mission.”

  Pol felt like he was a ball thrown back and forth between Tamio and Greenhill. He took the two messages and looked up at Tamio.

  “I want to know what the Queen thinks about her husband. You knew both of them in Borstall. Has anything changed?”

  Pol sucked in his breath. “You are asking a question that is dangerous to answer.” Pol could answer it immediately, but would Tamio even believe him?

  Tamio looked annoyed. “Find out what you can tonight.”

  “Is this another test?”

  “Test?” Tamio said.

  “Yes. Like delivering the first message to Lord Greenhill. That was a test.”

  “You knew?”

  Pol nodded. “I may be young, but I’m not an idiot,” he said. Pol chided himself for sounding so arrogant. “I’m sorry.”

  “No need. This is no test. I will be out and about myself tonight. Do not wear your uniform this time. That is an order.”

  Pol sensed a trap, but he had no alternative but to nod his head. He still worked for Tamio and was duty-bound to obey.

  “Is that all?”

  “Isn’t it enough?” Tamio said with the hint of a smile.

  ~

  The first letter delivered in the afternoon went to the Chief Healer. Pol found his way to the infirmary. He’d been there once before, but he only knew the way out the castle gate.

  A woman dressed in white sat at the receiving desk. A few patients waited in the lobby. Poll waited after telling the woman at the desk that he had a message for the Chief Healer. He wouldn’t leave the message for anyone to pick up.

  “Boy?”

  Pol stood up and followed a man wearing a white healer’s robe into the infirmary. They didn’t walk far before the healer showed Pol into a waiting room.

  An older woman walked into the room. She wore a purple belt, but Pol didn’t know what that might mean.

  “Excuse me. Are you a magical healer?”

  The woman batted her eyelashes. “I am. Why do you ask?”

  “Why aren’t you the Queen’s healer?”

  The woman narrowed her eyes at Pol. “Are you being impertinent?”

  “I don’t think so. I met Anna Lassler. She treated me here a few days ago.”

  “You are the boy that the guard beat up, aren’t you?”

  Pol nodded. “I know her father.”

  “Searl Hogton?”

  “He is in Alsador, in the city jail.”

  The woman’s face registered a touch of alarm.

  “Tamio didn’t tell me that.” She put her hand to her lips. “I didn’t say anything.” She shook her head trying to will away her words.

  “Lord Tamio doesn’t really have me delivering messages, does he?”

  “I can’t say about other duties you have. He wanted me to meet you.”

  “Here I am. I’ll answer any questions you might have if you answer one of mine.”

  The healer rubbed her hands. “I know who you really are.”

  Pol just nodded again.

  “You are Deftnis-trained.”

  “Not even a year, and I’m a year younger than the youngest,” Pol said.

  “And a budding pattern-master?”

  That brought an involuntary groan from Pol’s lips. Did Tamio keep no secrets?

  “What will you do when you take the throne of Listya?”

  Pol felt deflated. “I’ve already told Lord Tamio that I gave all that up. I’m disinherited. I have no desire to rule for reasons of my own.”

  “Would you take it if offered?”

  The woman wasn’t very discreet, but she was quickly filling in possible aspects of the pattern.

  Pol thought for a moment. He decided to give a non-answer. “I would have to decide such a thing if the opportunity actually arose. I’m inclined to say no.”

  The woman actually giggled. “You’ll agree. Tell Tamio that you pass.”

  “My turn,” Pol said.

  “What?” The woman tensed up.

  “My question. Where can I find Anna Lassler?”

  She let out a breath. “She lives in the room next to the Queen’s quarters. Anna is under guard. Queen Bythia wants a non-magical healer to attend to her health.”

  “That’s ironic,” Pol said. “I think Anna uses magic in her work.”

  “You are an astute boy,” the woman said, but then she bowed her head, “My Prince.”

  “I’m not a prince, anymore,” Pol said. If they put him on the throne, he’d be a king, anyway. “If you will excuse me, I’m not finished with my duties.”

  The healer stood up. “Of course, of course.”

  ~

  Pol dreaded having another interview. Tami
o’s pattern was pretty clear. Greenhill and he were parading Pol around to show him off as a possible replacement for Landon. From what little he could tell, there would be a clash between the two men for who would be the real power. He didn’t see Tamio bowing down as a loyal subject.

  He shook his head in dismay. Would he ever rid himself of being embroiled in these squabbles? His mood hadn’t brightened by the time he found his other destination. This was the second in command of the Listyan military.

  General Donton let Pol into his office.

  “You have a document from Lord Tamio?” the General said a little too loudly as he shut the door. “Sit, let us talk. I’m sure you are tired from all your running around for the Chief Guard.”

  “Thank you,” Pol said.

  “Have you had any military experience?”

  Pol blinked with surprise. “I’m only fifteen, My General.”

  “Tamio heard that you accompanied a campaign.”

  Pol looked off at the General’s bookshelf, filled with portfolio cases.

  “I did, once. I just about got myself killed. Do you wish to ask about military history? I know a fair amount. The general order of battle? I know that. Logistics?”

  “I didn’t mean to offend,” General Donton said.

  “Lord Tamio hasn’t kept my secret very well.”

  “No, he has. There are only five of us who know your pedigree. You really do know what you mentioned?”

  Pol nodded, and the General peppered Pol with general questions on strategy and important Imperial battles. Pol knew most of the answers.

  “You know as much or more than my staff,” Donton said.

  “I was taught by Ranno Wissingbel’s daughter. She was a very good tutor, and I was, at the time, a very willing student,” Pol said.

  “And now?”

  “I’ll be a very willing student in Deftnis, when I return.”

  “But you are sidetracked in Alsador.”

  The questioning wore Pol out. “I am sidetracked and I am unsure of what my future holds.”

  “It’s all good, your future,” General Donton said. “Tell Tamio that you are more than I expected.”

  Pol stood first this time. “I will, General. Thank you for your time.”

  If Pol did anything that night, he would be talking to Anna Lassler, guards or no guards. He had Tamio’s mission to fulfill, but more important, he had his own.

  ~~~

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  ~

  DINNER WAS A LONELY AFFAIR, BUT THAT ALLOWED POL MORE TIME to define the Seeking patterns that he needed to tweak. Talking to Anna was his prime mission since he already had the information on Bythia that Tamio needed.

  After dinner, Pol went through his possessions. He dumped all the old clothes out of his saddlebags onto his bed. Something still remained at the bottom. Pol pulled out a worn cloth sack and couldn’t remember what was inside.

  He opened the sack and smelled the mint essence of minweed. He had never had to prepare the stuff during Searl’s withdrawal. Could he use this in some way? Pol repacked his bags. He didn’t know what would happen, but he had to be prepared to leave the castle at any time. Demeron was ready.

  He had to retrieve Searl, Anna, and Mansen, and then find a way out of Alsador without the shred of a plan. He’d have to craft one as circumstances dictated. Pol thought he’d have to improvise like he did with anticipation magic, acting and reacting and anticipating as circumstances unfolded around him. Pol felt a reluctance to creep around the Royal Quarters. He knew he didn’t know what he was doing, and it made him anxious, more anxious than he’d ever been.

  Waiting wasn’t an easy thing to do, but Pol heard the bell ring the eleventh hour. He wouldn’t learn anything if he went out too late. Pol pulled his gray uniform jacket over his black outfit, despite Tamio’s orders, and walked across the grounds into the castle. He carried a leather message portfolio as cover, and no one challenged him.

  He continued to make his way past various guards, servants, and courtiers to the royal chambers, and then slipped into an alcove to review the map and calm his nerves. He felt his breathing quicken and his heartbeat rise, but his body wasn’t about to let him down as it had before Searl had cured him. Perhaps this was what normal anxiety felt like.

  Pol moved past the final set of guards and crept up the last stairway to the Royal Quarters. He had been here once before with his mother, but he only recalled vague impressions. Anna’s room must be around the next corner. Pol made himself invisible to the pattern and poked out his head and noticed that there were no guards next to her room.

  He quickly slipped along the corridor, hugging the wall, and opened the door to Anna’s room. She turned her head at the opening of the door, but pinched her brow a bit when no one entered. Pol closed the door and appeared.

  “Quiet, please.”

  Anna’s hand shot to her mouth, but then she must have recognized Pol, as she nodded. She must be as afraid as Pol was.

  “You are Searl’s friend?”

  Pol nodded. “My goal is to rescue you.”

  “The guard will return.”

  That alarmed Pol. “Why is he gone?”

  “She.” Anna said, shaking her hair out of her face. “Not a bad person really.”

  Pol heard the despair in her voice.

  “What is happening?”

  “Queen Bythia is going to poison King Landon tonight, and my guard has gone to attend the Queen. She forced me to prepare a quick-acting poison.”

  “I didn’t think she would strike so soon,” Pol said.

  Anna’s eyes grew. “You knew?”

  Pol nodded his head again. “She wants to rule by herself as a proxy for her father, King Astor. Is she going to do it now?”

  Anna’s expression told him that Bythia would.

  “Where is Landon?”

  “In his study. It’s on—”

  “I know where it is,” Pol said. “I hope to be back. Don’t scream if I intrude again.”

  “This is much too dangerous for you,” she said.

  “I can’t say I’m calm about any of this. If I’m injured, Searl and you can patch me up.” Pol gave her the ghost of a grin and slipped out without another word.

  He spelled himself invisible and crept towards the King’s study. A female guard stood outside. Pol touched her, putting her to sleep like Searl had taught him. She collapsed to the floor, but Pol caught her before she made much of a sound.

  He opened the door slowly and slipped inside, closing it silently behind him and hugging the wall. He could feel pressure on his chest and his heart beat as loudly as ever, but Pol didn’t succumb to his old weakness. His better condition hadn’t removed the discomfort that he currently felt.

  Bythia stood massaging Landon’s shoulders, while his stepbrother complained about not getting much respect from the castle guard. Pol could see the malevolence on her face while Landon looked away from her at the small fire in the massive fireplace.

  “That should be enough. Now for some wine to relax you.” She said. Bythia patted Landon’s shoulders and walked past Pol, not seeing him at all, towards a sideboard.

  “Pour one for yourself,” Landon said.

  “I don’t need any.”

  Please do, my love. We scarcely spend time together anymore.”

  She gave Landon’s back a look of distaste. “Very well.” Her voice was brighter than her expression.

  After she poured the wine, she took a small envelope from her bodice and opened it. Bythia tapped the powder into one of the pewter goblets and used a silver rod to stir the wine. She put Landon’s wine in the center of a round tray and her own on the edge.

  She walked over to him and put the tray down. Landon pulled her onto his lap. He laughed and kissed her cheek. She resisted at first, but then it looked to Pol that she forced herself to relax, and slapped his face, lightly.

  “That’s no way to treat a queen.”

  “Ah, but it is quite prope
r to kiss one’s wife.”

  He pulled her forward. Pol could tell she resisted, but she forced herself to kiss the man she was about to kill.

  Pol walked forward to put her to sleep, like the guard. He bumped into a chair.

  “Who’s there?” Landon said getting up.

  Pol appeared.

  “Who are you?” Bythia asked in her harshest voice.

  “I am Poldon.”

  “You?” Landon narrowed his eyes as he drew his sword from the scabbard that lay on his desk. “It is you. What are you doing here?”

  “Seeing what it would be like to walk the halls of my mother’s castle,” he said. Pol could barely breathe confronting these two people who hated him so.

  “Your mother is dead, and you gave up your right to the throne,” Bythia said, the harshness in her voice grated. “Efron!”

  “The guard’s name? She’s asleep,” Pol said. “I’ve learned how to sneak around a bit.”

  She snorted. “Leave us.”

  Landon stepped closer with his sword pointed towards Pol. “Tie him up, Bythia.”

  Pol locked eyes with Landon. “Listen to me, brother.”

  “You are no brother of mine!”

  Bythia detached two drapery tiebacks, and Pol let her tie his hands and feet. She pushed him onto a chair.

  “She is going to poison you tonight,” Pol said, looking at Landon

  “Bythia?” Landon laughed, oblivious to his wife’s designs. “That would never happen.” He looked down at Pol, who let Landon slap his face.

  Pol tasted blood. He had often enough in the past, and the hatred and meanness of his siblings came back into focus.

  Bythia slapped him even harder. “Do you miss your mommy?” she said, mockingly. “I talked Amonna into giving your mother a nightcap. She didn’t even know it contained poison.” Bythia laughed. “However, the next morning she saw the wisdom of her actions.”

  Landon’s eyes brightened. “That means the Shinkyan stallion in the stables really is my horse!”

  Pol shook his head. “The Emperor gave me title to him. He’s mine, not yours.”

  “He’s mine!” Landon slapped Pol again. Pol’s head began to hurt.

  “Gods, I need my wine,” Landon said.

  “Someone comes!” Pol said.

  “What?” Bythia said as both of them looked towards the door.