Electra Rose
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Swordpoint Diplomacy ch 9
🕑 Added 2022-08-25 14:48:14 +0000 UTCCHAPTER 9
Camp flew by in a blur of smoke and lights. The warm night air was full of laughter and the tantalizing scents of the dinner that he’d been interrupted before eating. It seemed like a different lifetime that he had sat down to an uneventful dinner. The people he ran past didn’t know yet to be afraid. Kian caught the white of someone’s eyes as they turned to see him pass. He was in good enough shape that all he felt so far was his breath coming harder. He could keep this pace for a while.
‘I should have asked the princess to send Avoie away. She’d have done it if I asked her.’
She would hardly send a squire to the frontlines of a fight on purpose, but she’d probably forget that he existed when she bounced off to try to kill half an army by herself. She still didn’t know her own squire’s name. It was halfway a miracle that she knew Kian’s name. She was brazenly kind but catastrophically self absorbed.
He cursed himself for a fool, but it was too late to turn back and ensure that his shy little brother was removed to safety. He reached the edge of camp and barked out a greeting to the sentry. Resentfully, he stopped running. His heart was jumping in his throat.
‘If I went as fast as I could, he wouldn’t be able to stop me. This is a waste of time.’
The thought was unworthy of him. He tried to push it down with the ease of years of overcoming his impulses.
Harrod’s endless chastisements about the proper way to do things were ringing mockingly in his ears. It would cause more trouble in the long run if he was court martialed, or if the sentry believed he was an intruder escaping and reported him.
“Who goes out?” The sentry demanded, taking a step towards him. Kian didn’t know the voice and it was too dark to see the man’s face clearly.
“Kian of Duke Harrod’s house,” he said, a bit impatiently. “I go to the forward camp with a message. I bear the personal seal of the princess and of Duke Harrod as well.”
“Let’s see it, then.” The man snatched the letters and took a quick step back towards the firelight. He glanced between the seals and Kian, clearly unwilling to keep his eyes off of the younger soldier. “What are the words?”
‘Something foolish. I hate these delays.’
He thought for just a moment. “The sun shines on the King’s road.” They’d changed the pass phrase less than a week ago. It was the first time he’d needed to use it since the change.
The sentry bowed and held a hand out with the seals of service. He seemed to relax. Kian took the seals back and folded them away carefully despite his screaming need to use haste. “You may pass. Be careful out there!”
“My thanks,” Kian said flatly. He dodged the pits and carefully edged down the thin paths between the huge ditches surrounding the camp before he could safely start picking up the pace.
He ran. He ran as hard as he ever had in training and then he pushed himself that much more. His stomach lurched with nerves and he began to feel strangely lightheaded. Kian only slowed when he reached the forest. It loomed and wavered ominously in the menacing light of the moon. It felt like a fever dream inside, a nightmare maze of spiderwebbed branches and brambles. It seemed larger than he knew it to be, now that it was the obstacle between him and telling his prince that they were about to be attacked from behind.
Was he lost? Kian stood for a moment and swayed, trying to remember the way to the other camp. He gritted his jaw and made a decision. He was fairly certain it was the right way to go.
“This was so much easier when she led the way.”
His voice rang out oddly, a little more accusative and confused than he’d meant for it to come out. He hurried despite the poor visibility and the feeling that the air was heavy. Kian had to wince at the sounds of his boots and his clumsiness in the dark. It wasn’t like he’d done much better in the daylight. The memory of the princess slipping silently ahead was his best guide, as well as a reminder that there were apparently tricks to traveling through woods without alerting anyone nearby.
‘I must have run harder than I meant to. I can’t believe how tired I am.’
He was nearly out when he put a hand on a rough tree bole as he struggled to place his foot in a particularly nasty nest of roots. He remembered this spot. The trees were very thick here, leaving an uneven pathway full of trip hazards.
Something hissed.
Kian jerked away on instinct, but his left foot was caught between two roots. Pain exploded in his ankle. He fell back, free foot scuffling uselessly for purchase. Light exploded behind his eyes. “Fuck,” he cursed viciously. He blinked once, twice, looking at the faint hints of starlight through the trees and coming to terms with the fact that he was lying down.
“Am I thick?” He wondered incredulously. He struggled up and kept moving. If he didn’t get there in quick order, the prince would have no opportunity to prepare for an attack. It didn’t matter that stress apparently made him stupid, and that the night was disorienting.
He made it, somehow. It was truly dark now. Faint lights flickered ahead where a sentry would be waiting. He stopped a little out of the bounds and squinted. “Hallo,” Kian called. “Hallo from the forest edge.”
“Who goes?”
The answering call was a good forty feet away. The woman belonging to it came over cautiously. He saw someone else running away, to raise an alarm in case he was an invader here to kill the guards.
“Kian of Duke Harrod’s household,” he said, holding his hands carefully up. Getting an arrow in his face would ruin his week. “I come with a message for the Prince’s ears.”
“Pass?”
Kian opened his mouth- and he blinked. His mind struggled to retrieve the phrase he’d used only hours ago. “I… The sun shines on the King’s road,” he managed in a rush. Hells. If he hadn’t remembered, that could have ended very badly. Just because the Princess could scowl at a guard for having the gall to do their job and walk past didn’t mean he could repeat the trick without her.
“Do you have a seal?” The night guard came a little closer, apparently soothed that he wasn’t a murderer.
He showed her, confirmed his identity, and was escorted to the correct tent by a grim-faced man who slunk out of the darkness.
The Prince’s tent was lit dimly. The red fabric seemed to glow with heat. When he stepped inside, he found himself looking at boots which had been hastily tied.
“Prince Etienne,” he greeted.
“You may rise,” the prince said in a voice that was thick with sleep. His handsome face was tired and his hair was tousled when Kian straightened from his bow. “What news?”
“Indeed.” The tent flap opened with a gust of air and Lady LaMott strode in. Her grey hair was piled neatly on her head, her clothes were without a hint of a wrinkle. She inclined her head at the Prince and settled at his shoulder.
Kian paused for a breath, expecting to see suspicion or irritation on the Prince’s face. Instead he flashed a grateful smile at the older noble.
‘That’s right. He’s the friendly one.’
It wasn’t the time to wonder how Princess Rose had grown to be so prickly and withdrawn when her brother was famously charming and warm.
“I have news from your sister,” he said. It was a real effort to keep his voice level and his body still. He still felt so strange. “We are being marched on by a force of about 2000 soldiers, coming up the plains to our rear.” The blood drained out of Prince Etienne’s face in an instant. “I was sent immediately after a messenger informed the Princess that your cousin estimated the enemy position to be 30 hours of marching from our line.”
Questions came and he answered them. Lady LaMott picked up that the messenger had come directly from the older Prince’s camp and she made the same estimate of arrival that Kian would have. He swayed a little in place, grateful when the Prince and Lady LaMott began a hasty discussion of what they’d do- he would oversee the final measure at the river, she would mobilize their troops.
Lady LaMott was standing very close to him.
Kian blinked and took a step back. “Pardon me,” he said, not sure why this was happening.
The formidable lady frowned at him. She pulled the glove off of her left hand and then laid the back of her palm on his face. He was so surprised that he let her.
“Prince Etienne, I think this man has been drugged.”
It took a full second to understand that she was talking about him. He thought that he should have been horrified, but he was actually just dreadfully tired. “Oh,” Kian said stupidly. He cast his mind back. “I didn’t eat dinner. I had…” He looked up at the tent ceiling.
“Why didn’t you eat?” Lady LaMott pressed. She was close again. Still? He didn’t know which it was.
“The Princess summoned me to do an errand.” He blinked, remembering it. “Ah- Prince Etienne.” Kian struggled with numb fingers to pull out the red fabric in his satchel. “I’m to put this in the river at 10.”
The Prince took it out of his hands and looked at it with a curious expression. “So you are,” Etienne said quietly. His clever eyes darted back to Kian. “I will take that. What did you eat?”
“I didn’t,” Kian said stupidly. “I only- the Princess gave me some wine.”
Now that he’d stopped running, he was preoccupied by how heavy his body was. It made more sense now but somehow he couldn’t find the capacity to be alarmed.
“Someone poisoned my sister?” The Prince’s voice went shockingly high.
“Drugged,” LaMott corrected sharply. Her wrinkled hands were cool against Kian’s face. “How much did you have?” She patted his face to keep him awake.
Kian frowned, fighting to care about the conversation at all. “A glass?” he said, not certain. “One glass. Same as Princess Rose.” Oh, he realized belatedly, that was not good. That was the problem. “Someone drugged her when there’s an army coming at us?” Kian swayed. “How’d they know?” He veered into incredulity. It was obvious that the Princess suspected a knife in her back every time that she turned around, but it was a bit much to believe that some political rival could time their plot to line up with their first real military conflict.
“A very good question,” Lady LaMott said darkly. “No army did that from kilometers away. We have a rat in the pantry.”
The Prince let out a gust of breath. “If it’s affecting him like this- it won’t be that bad for Rose,” he said. He seemed to be assuring himself. “He’s still awake.”
“She’s smaller than he is,” Lady LaMott said dryly. “And he’s about to fall down. Help me with him. Assuming she’s not running, it may take longer for her to feel these effects. But it will come. So we must get there quickly.”
