Oberon's Dreams - By Aaron Pogue Page 0,43

is not your right to demand such a thing.”

“Avery, then—”

“No. By its association with you, the House of Violets has lost such rights as well.” Ephitel grinned. “Oh, you may prove useful to me after all.”

“Gods’ blood!” Corin snapped. “What have they done against you?”

“Be careful of the threats you make,” Ephitel answered him. “Yeoman Kellen! Are the prisoners secure?”

“Yes, Lord Ephitel.”

“Very good. You will accompany them to the dungeons.”

“Yes, Lord Ephitel. And who will join me? The rest of my unit are still upon the road.”

“So they are,” Ephitel said. “I believe you will go alone.”

Kellen looked into the confines of the carriage, and a little shudder shook him. Corin understood. Once the carriage was in motion it would become an island, isolated, and on that island Yeoman Kellen would be much outnumbered by his charges. Even with their hands bound, they could do him no small damage. Jailers always preferred numbers until their prisoners were safely in cells. This was near enough a suicide order, or must have seemed so to the yeoman.

He swallowed hard. “Alone, sir?”

“You have your orders.”

For a moment he seemed prepared to argue. Then he meekly bowed his head and reached to retrieve the truncheon that had fallen from his grip. Ephitel urged his horse forward, and a steel-shod hoof slammed down on the haft of the hardened club, reducing it to splinters. Kellen barely kept his hand.

The yeoman leaped back, looking to his lord protector in shock. Ephitel nodded pointedly at the sword on Kellen’s belt. “A soldier of mine should not fear a little bloodshed.”

Kellen nodded, defeated, then turned and climbed into the carriage. A moment later the door slammed shut, and everyone within it could hear the locks on the outer doors slamming into place. Outside, Ephitel sniffed. “Ease your heart, Yeoman Kellen. I would not trust these prisoners to your charge for all the gold in Oberon’s coffers. There will be forty of your stalwart companions riding along outside.” Then he shouted a command and the carriage jerked into motion, dragging them all toward the palace dungeons.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

For some time silence reigned within the carriage while Corin plotted. He had learned much in the brief exchange between the lord protector and his reluctant guard. This Yeoman Kellen seemed hesitant to execute Ephitel’s cruelty, and that could prove a boon. If Corin could just find the best approach, he might make an ally of their captor.

But Avery spoke first. He leaned forward, hands still bound by the elven knot, and fixed his jailer with a vicious glare. “So,” he said, “this is Yeoman Kellen, the famous coward of the Royal Guard!”

It seemed a foolish provocation. Corin looked sideways at his hero.

Kellen rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Be careful how you address me, Violets. You are still bound.”

“And you are still a coward.”

Corin said softly, “Careful.”

Kellen nodded. “You should listen to your accomplice here. You’ve given me more than one reason to make you bleed.”

Avery laughed. “I doubt you have the nerve.”

Shocked, Corin turned to him. “What are you doing?”

Kellen answered for him. “He’s lashing out. His actions cost his house its standing, and he hates the lord protector for enforcing Oberon’s law.”

“A mere pretext,” Avery spat. “Ephitel despised my father long before I started making waves.”

Corin sighed. These were the politics he’d so hoped to avoid. But now he needed some cooperation between these two. He caught Avery’s eyes. “And why do you hate Kellen for Ephitel’s actions?”

“I hate all his little toadies,” Avery sneered.

“Yet he has never said a word,” Kellen answered. “Except he’s heard my name, and he thinks I am toothless.”

“I’ve heard your name, for it was you who clapped my father in his chains,” Avery said. “When your father had once been my family’s friend.”

Kellen bit his lip. That told Corin all he needed to know. The yeoman turned away. “I had my orders. I could not disobey.”

“And so I’ll say again, you are a coward.”

Corin rolled his eyes. “You are a bore.” He turned back to Kellen. “We have no quarrel with you, Yeoman. In fact, our enemy and yours might be the same.”

Kellen frowned. “Who do you mean?”

It was a gamble, but Corin was a gambler. He shrugged. “I mean your master, Lord Ephitel.”

Kellen shook his head. “He is not my master, merely my superior. I have no master but King Oberon.”

Corin hid his grin. He scooted to the edge of his seat. “Then even more you should consider us your