The Princess and the Pea Page 8

  “Thank you?” Lis said, unsure what point the king was driving towards.

  Channing bowed his head once in acknowledgement.

  Before Lis could try to change the subject, the king continued. “I am thankful you have come here. With the strength of your character, you have done more than you know for us. You have breathed valiance back into these halls, Lisheva. Truly, you do represent nobility at its finest.” His face was as serious and chiseled as Channing’s as he met her gaze with unwavering eyes.

  Lis hesitated. “I’m just a warrior. A mercenary.”

  King Albion smiled. “Your character is what decides who you are, Lisheva, not your station. Verily, you are a true noble.”

  The words seemed almost like a blessing. Though Lis wanted to scoff at the absurdity of the idea, she couldn’t find words to speak, for the king’s observation warmed her heart more than she cared to admit.

  “Well, then!” the king clapped his hands twice. “I was sent out to retrieve the two of you by my dear Queen Theodora and the charming Vorah! Theodora thought it would be nice to have tea together. I agreed only because Cook made custard tarts and fruit trifle!” He winked, then marched back up the aisleway, making horses snort and lift their heads to watch as he passed by. “Come along, you two!”

  Reluctantly, Lis followed the king. Channing caught up to her quickly, then matched his stride with hers so he did not outpace her.

  Lis kept her expression stoic as their shoulders brushed, eliciting a warmth she frankly did not want to admit. Vorah is right. The Torrens Royal Family is certainly insane—and unfortunately cunning.

  Chapter 8

  The following night, during her hours on watch, Lis sat at the little desk pressed into the corner of the room and stared at their contract by the light of an oil lamp.

  The informant still had not been found, and King Albion had formally asked Lis and Vorah to stay until he or she was ferreted out.

  Though Lis was glad to stay—for the pay was nice, and she was also eager to see the informant brought to justice—the identity of the betrayer was an itch she could not scratch. She sighed and rested her hands on the braided bun she had pulled her hair back into.

  None of this could happen unless this informant was considered a trusted servant…but the royal family’s people seem incredibly loyal.

  Lis thought she heard something in the hallway. Curious, she pushed away from the desk and turned thoughtfully to look at their door.

  All was quiet, until something slammed into the door.

  Lis ripped her sword from its scabbard as Vorah bolted upright.

  “Not going for subtlety, are they?” Vorah asked as she hopped out of her bed, fully dressed, and whipped out her daggers.

  Another hit to the door made the lock jingle and the door groan.

  “It seems they’ve decided strength over secrecy,” Lis said grimly.

  One last crack, and their bedroom door splintered, swinging open. Four men holding what appeared to be something like a miniature battering ram dropped their burden and swept inside, though more filled the hallway.

  One with a spear engaged Vorah while two intruders who wielded short swords ran across the room, making for Lis.

  This left the last bandit, who wore a hood and a dark mask that covered most of his face, to sprint over to Lis’ mattress.

  “Guards!” Lis shouted as she ducked a bandit’s sword and parried the other’s stab at her gut.

  Vorah swore as the unhindered bandit kicked Lis’ mattress off the wooden bedframe and picked up the leather pouch secured there.

  Vorah tried to throw one of her daggers at the fleeing bandit, but the one with the spear wrapped his weapon up in the chain of her daggers and pulled, nearly yanking her off her feet.

  “Guards!” Lis shouted again when the thief rejoined with those standing in the hallway. She headbutted one of her attackers—making him go down with a shout—then blocked the other with her metal arm bracer.

  Though the force of the blow rattled her arm and sent pain spiraling all the way to her shoulder, it let her throw his sword off and fling his arms wide.

  She slammed the hilt of her sword into his chin, making him choke and fall like a tree, just as Vorah lost her temper and dropped her daggers to deliver a roundhouse kick to her opponent’s face.

  Vorah leaped into the hallway, and Lis was moments behind her.

  “They went this way!” Vorah sprinted up the hallway, skidding to a stop when they nearly crashed with Channing and a group of armed guards at a hallway intersection.

  “Bandits,” Lis said as succinctly as possible. “Three in our room—a whole party of them got away.”

  “Do they have the Pea?” Channing asked.

  Before Lis could answer, Vorah turned down one of the side hallways. “I’ll see if I can follow the leader’s trail! Lis—meet you at the gates. That was a large group waiting in the hallway. With that many, they had to have come through the gates!”

  Lis nodded, then ran for the stairs that would cut the fastest path to the front courtyard. Channing shouted directions to the guards before he raced after her.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “They rammed down our door—broke it. Four of them entered our room.” Lis reached the stairs and jumped down them—taking two steps at a time. “Others waited in the hallway—we couldn’t see how many.”

  “And?” Channing prodded.

  “Two attacked me; one went after Vorah. The other thief got to my mattress,” Lis said when they hit the bottom of the staircase.

  Channing swore. “Then they have the Pea.”

  “Well—” Lis started to reply, but fell silent, straining her ears to listen when she and Channing bolted from the castle, emerging at the side.

  Guards were shouting, and the scream of whistles pierced the air as they altered their course, making for the city gates.

  Despite all the shouting, the gates were wide open. As they ran closer, Lis could see the sprawled form of four guards, splayed on the ground.

  Lis crouched next to one of the soldiers while Channing worked to wrench the gates shut. “They’re unconscious,” she said as she rolled each guard over, searching for wounds. She pried one guard’s mouth open and sniffed, choking on the rancid scent of his breath. “If I had to guess, I’d think someone gave them laced drinks.”

  “Wonderful,” Channing muttered.

  “Halt!” a guard shouted.

  Lis stood and reclaimed her sword. “Here they come!”

  Channing unsheathed his sword as well and moved so he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her. Together they waited, tensed and ready for the inescapable battle.

  A squad of guards chased ten bandits from the castle.

  It was hard to make out their exact features with only the moon and flickering torches to light the courtyard, but none of them wore the mask donned by the bandit who had plucked the pouch from her mattress.

  He might be the leader of the whole ring—or perhaps the informant. He’s the one we need to catch if we want to end this…But we need to find him!

  Channing raced forward, attacking the first bandit of the group. Some of the soldiers caught up with the stragglers, and though Lis moved forward to watch Channing’s back, she didn’t try to engage the other rogues.

  Instead, she watched carefully, looking for the leader.

  The shattering of glass drew her attention back to the castle. She turned just in time to see the masked man leaping through a broken window on the second story of the palace. He dropped down to a sharply angled overhang that jutted out into a flower garden and tumbled over the side, barely righting himself at the last moment so he landed on his feet and not his back.

  Lis started running.

  A few seconds later, Vorah popped out of the castle, jumping through the same window and sliding down the angled overhang with more swift grace than the bandit. “Catch him, Lis!” Vorah shouted as she wrapped her hands around one of the pillars that
supported the overhang and slid down it.

  He’s slightly favoring his right side, she observed as the bandit unsheathed a sword and roared at her. And while he holds the sword correctly, he’s doing a terrible job of running with it. So, someone who was trained, but hasn’t seen much real combat?

  “Move—or your blood will be shed!” the bandit snarled.

  Lis ignored the threat and instead jumped into the air, swinging her sword down at the bandit.

  He tried to run around her, but Lis twisted midair, following his path and limiting his choice to either defending or receiving a nasty shoulder wound.

  Their blades clashed with a metallic clang.

  Lis leaned into her sword so it skidded across the bandit leader’s blade until her hilt guard caught on it. Then she wrenched her sword up and in a horizontal swipe that just missed slicing the bandit’s throat.

  He wildly pushed up on his sword, dragging both of their blades above their heads.

  Lis lashed out, kicking him in the gut with her knee.

  He fell down, but two of his men scrambled forward, attacking Lis before she could continue.

  They both wielded short swords and attacked her with such speed she could only parry and was forced to back up under the onslaught. One circled round to her back while the other continued to push her from the front, jabbing at her shoulder and stabbing at her gut.

  When she heard the bandit behind her move, she dropped to the ground, avoiding a stab that instead nearly impaled his brethren.

  Lis kicked the back-stabbing bandit’s legs out from under him—making him tumble with a yelp.

  As she rose, she grabbed a handful of dust and flung it at the other bandit’s face. He raised his arm to his eyes and staggered, but his grip on his sword went lax.

  Lis rapped his knuckles with the flat of her blade, making him drop his sword all together, then kicked the weapon away. Finally, she crouched down and rammed her shoulder into his gut, making him flip over her shoulder.

  Unhindered, she ran after the bandit leader—who was once again running for the gate.

  Pouring on the speed, just as they reached the gatehouse, Lis managed to reach out and grasp the back of the bandit leader’s hood.

  She yanked on it, sliding it off his head, but more importantly pulling him to a choking stop as the fasteners of his hood dug into his throat.

  The bandit leader spun around and lunged at her with a dagger pointed to her gut.

  Lis leaped back and raised her sword into a guard position. The dagger bounced harmlessly off her blade, and the bandit leader cursed.

  Pushing her advantage, Lis darted forward. She struck him across the chest—which opened no wound as he wore a leather chestplate—but her sword thumped him with the force of a hammer, rattling his bones.

  Flinging his arm out, the bandit leader stabbed his dagger at her throat in a move she easily avoided.

  Twirling her sword, Lis smacked his hand, making him drop his dagger, then viciously ground her heel onto his foot.

  The attack made the bandit leader stagger backwards—ramming into the gates. Another strike to his chest and he sagged, gurgling as he slid down the length of the gate.

  Finally! Lis allowed herself a smile as she minutely relaxed and stepped forward to apprehend the man.

  Somewhere behind Lis, a bandit roared.

  She started to whirl around, but already she knew she was too slow.

  Bracing herself for the blow, she saw—out of the corner of her eye—a bandit swinging his sword in a nasty diagonal slice that was going to land on her side. She gritted her teeth and futilely attempted to pull her sword around in time.

  Just as the bandit lashed out, a thrown dagger whipped through the air and struck him in the shoulder, making him collapse with a shout.

  Lis followed the trajectory, and her eyes met Channing’s. She nodded in thanks, then turned back around to the bandit leader—who had again struggled to his feet.

  Mercilessly Lis jabbed the hilt of her sword into his throat, once again choking him.

  The bandit leader fell in a heap, and Lis carefully held her sword as she bodily maneuvered the rogue so he was on his knees, and she held his arms behind his back.

  “Well done, Master!” Vorah praised as she loped across the courtyard.

  “Seize these men.” King Albion boomed as he swept out of the castle—a platoon of guards at his back.

  “Sure thing.” Vorah skidded to a stop at Lis’ side just as Channing joined her. “But I want to see who this blackguard is.”

  “Of course.” King Albion strode across the courtyard, picking his way around the subdued bandits. “Channing, if you would?”

  Channing nodded and pulled off the bandit leader’s black mask. His eyebrows formed a sharp V as he stared down at the unmasked man. “Haywood?”

  Haywood’s usually charming and handsome face was rendered nearly unrecognizable as he snarled at Channing. He tried to lunge for the prince, but Lis had too good of a grasp on him and held him fast.

  Channing shook his head. “I never would have guessed…”

  “Which is probably why he evaded capture for so long,” Vorah said.

  “Haywood,” King Albion’s voice was strong but sad. “Why did you choose to betray our family?”

  “Does the reason for the betrayal really matter?” Lis asked. “Money, power, greed…all it means is that he values other things above his honor and loyalty.”

  “But if he has a reason—if he needed aid in some way,” the king started.

  Haywood interrupted him with sharp laughter. “As usual, you are soft to the bone, Your Majesty,” he scoffed.

  “Is that really something you want to say to the man who is going to decide upon your punishment?” Vorah asked skeptically.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Haywood shook his head. “I am a dead man, for I have failed in my mission and was caught.”

  Lis narrowed her eyes. “Then you work for someone?”

  “I retrieve items and artifacts for those who have real power, for those who will properly use them for the purpose they were designed for: dominance,” Haywood snarled.

  The hair on the back of Lis’ head raised. She wanted to toss her head like a horse and stamp out the ugliness of the words.

  “The Pea of Primeorder is dangerous,” King Albion said.

  “It’s a tool. One that should be wielded. One that will be used when the time comes,” Haywood promised.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, traitor, you’ve been captured,” Vorah pointed out.

  “I have, but the Pea of Primeorder is not on my person.” Haywood smirked and tried to lean back, until he felt the edge of Lis’ sword at his spine and hastily leaned forward again. “You’ll never find it. Search me all you like! I hid it when I split off from my men. Whether you imprison me or kill me, I’ll get word to my men and someone will retrieve it from its secret place.”

  “Unlikely,” Lis said.

  Haywood growled and tried—and failed—to pull himself from her grasp. “You think once you’re gone, Warrior Princess, that they will be able to keep the castle so well guarded—when they never even suspected me?”

  “None of that matters—you hiding the pouch from my room is irrelevant,” Lis said.

  Haywood violently shook his head. “You think you can find it? I know this castle better than anyone! I hid the Pea of Primeorder well!”

  “You didn’t hide the Pea. You hid a rock,” Lis said dryly.

  Everyone—except Vorah, of course—turned to stare at Lis. “What did you say?” Channing finally asked.

  “Obviously Haywood never opened the pouch,” Lis said. “All that was in it was a pebble of the approximate weight and size of the Pea of Primeorder. Vorah and I swapped it out after Apex attempted to steal it, when we knew our defensive measures were being leaked.” Lis forced herself not to look at Channing as she explained their decision.

  “It was such a splendid trap. And you walked right in
to it!” Vorah gleefully clapped her hands.

  “If the Pea wasn’t under your mattress, where is it?” King Albion asked.

  Lis glanced at Vorah, who nodded and moved to take over holding Haywood.

  This freed Lis to slide her sword into her scabbard and reach up into the orderly bun of her hair. She had to maneuver around the leather tie and pins she used to keep her hair up, but eventually pushed back her locks and pulled out the Pea of Primeorder from the nestle of her hair.

  King Albion’s jaw dropped, and even Channing stared dumbly as Lis held the Pea up so the light of the flickering torches made the jewel shimmer.

  “You slept with an ancient and powerful magic item woven into your hair?” Channing asked.

  Lis shrugged. “In the end, it’s just a jewel. It made sleep somewhat uncomfortable, but that was not due to its power, but more because I was sleeping with a rock pressing into my skull.”

  “No—it, it can’t be!” Haywood stared up at the jewel, aghast. “I grabbed it—with my own hands!”

  Lis raised an eyebrow. “I find it amusing that you—a betrayer—would assume that everyone else should act with the honor and open manners that you lack.”

  Haywood’s shock turned to rage as he tried to get off his knees. “They’ll kill you!” he snarled. “You have dabbled in something darker than you know, and you will pay for keeping the jewel from them! They will come for you!”

  Lis smiled coldly as she rested her hand on the hilt of her sword. “Oh? The cowardly, depraved people you work for will try to fight me?” She leaned over him, and her smile grew. “Good. It will save me the trouble of tracking them down to take care of them myself.”

  “You, you witch!” he shouted.

  Channing swung his sword so the edge pressed against Haywood’s throat. “Choose your words carefully, Haywood. For though my father is a forgiving man, I am not nearly so noble.”

  Haywood finally fell mute and miserably hung his head.

  Lis waited for a moment to make certain he was done shouting, then turned on her heels and bowed to King Albion as she offered out the gem. “With the bandit leader—and informant—caught, I believe there is no longer need of the remaining days of our contract. I give the jewel back over to you, Your Majesty.”