The Shadow Throne (Ascendance 3)

“Now?”

“There might never be a better time.”

“Okay.” He grinned as a story came to his mind. “The first two days after we began walking back to Carthya, after hearing of your death, both Amarinda and I were miserable.”

I arched an eyebrow. “This is the worst good story I’ve ever heard.”

“Hush. It’s coming.” Tobias’s eyes glazed as he was transported to that day. “Amarinda barely spoke a word for all that time, and I had no idea what I might say to her. It rained that night, and she and I were forced to take shelter beneath some thick underbrush. It was cold and so dark we could barely see our own fingers, and the night seemed to last forever.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if you understand what ‘not awful’ means,” I muttered.

“Hush!” Tobias smiled again. “But the next morning was beautiful. It was warm and sunny, with everything brightened by the rain. Even in Avenia, it looked to be a perfect day for walking. We hunted around for anything we might find to eat. The princess saw a large bush of wild berries and, in her hunger, hurried toward it. She was so eager, in fact, that she failed to notice the ground beneath her. She tripped on an exposed root and fell directly into a thick mud patch. The more she struggled to get out, the dirtier she became. I waded in to help her but fell also. By the time we were both out, there wasn’t an inch of our bodies not covered in mud.”

s continued, “That’s when the soldiers told the driver about your death. They even showed him a piece of your clothing. Amarinda and I were watching from a distance. We recognized it as the same clothes you had worn when we were last together.”

“Fink saw them too?”

“We all saw it, Jaron, and it was all any of us could do in that moment to keep from crying out. Fink even rose to attack them but I held him back.” Tobias licked his lips. “It was the worst news of my life, and no better for the others. It took several minutes after the soldiers left before Amarinda felt well enough to walk.”

“Toward Bymar?”

Again, Tobias shook his head. “I tried to persuade Amarinda to go, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before word spread of your death. She felt that Carthyans would look to the throne for leadership and that someone had to be sitting on it. So she insisted on walking back to Drylliad.”

The idea of that was insane. If the soldiers who stopped those thieves knew the princess was in Avenia, they’d turn the country inside out to search for her. And Isel was their closest escape. Retracing their steps all the way back to Carthya was far too dangerous, and I told Tobias so.

“I agree,” he protested. “But she’s the princess and I’m her servant. If she wanted to return to Carthya, I had no choice but to follow. Fink went on to Bymar, to beg them to come to Carthya’s aid.”

“What?” I exploded with anger and had to remind myself to stay quiet. “You sent him off alone?”

“He insisted he could do it. And he is Avenian, so his chances of getting past any soldiers are decent. We had no choice, Jaron.”

Maybe not, but I still didn’t like it. “How’d you get captured?” I asked him.

“She and I were asleep one night and I heard a noise in the darkness. I crept out to investigate and the soldiers found me. By the time they dragged me back to where I’d slept, she was gone, along with any trace of her trail.”

I felt terrified for what had happened to the princess since then, and by the expression on Tobias’s face, he felt the same way. The thought of what would happen if she was also captured was unbearable, made even worse since I had become so helpless here.

No more. It was time to break free from this place.

Despite my best intentions to find an escape from the Avenian camp, the realities of our situation complicated those plans. Now that they had Tobias for leverage, their work on me intensified. Even if the opportunity for escape arose, my strength to accomplish it was dwindling. Tobias offered to help where he could, but his treatment was little better than mine, and without my cooperation, things would only get worse for him.

In the same area from where I had released Mott and Imogen, Tobias and I were questioned about the plans for the war, this time by the lumpish troll, Terrowic, and another of Kippenger’s men. It was hard enough just to be there, with a clear view of the hill where Imogen had stood only days before. I repeatedly scanned the ridge, hoping against reason to see her, and then my focus would be taken again, back for another of their endless lines of questions.

“How many soldiers have you kept in Drylliad?” Terrowic asked.

“Don’t answer that!” Tobias begged, which earned him another punch to his gut. He doubled over, choking on his breath, and I felt the same pain within me.

“Give us a number.” The smaller one who spoke had a large mole on his chin that I constantly stared at with disgust, mostly because I knew my staring bothered him. “We’ll drag it out of you if we must.”

“No, you can’t do that,” I mumbled. It wasn’t their intentions I doubted, only the reality that there was nothing in me anymore. All of that had drained out, leaving behind only the dregs of any spirit I might have had once.

“We can do more than you think,” Terrowic said. “My king has been secretly corresponding with someone I’m told you know well. A nobleman named Bevin Conner.”

“Ex-noble,” I muttered. And it was no secret. I’d already made the connection between Conner and Vargan.

“Conner told us about the kitchen noble in Libeth, about your armies, and your fight with the captain of your guard. So even if you don’t want to talk, we’ll still learn what we want.”

Then I wouldn’t talk. I tried turning away, but he ordered someone to get a whip.