his shining curls. Would she ever know the truth? Now is not the time to ask, she told herself.
Razi’s deep voice cut into her thoughts. ‘You have reconsidered your heir’s proposals?’
The King’s lips twitched. He kept his head propped in his hand, and with one finger traced the neat rows of Alberon’s rounded script. ‘With modifications,’ he said, ‘some portions of it may well be effected. This marriage, for example. An astounding innovation. He did not trust me with it, of course. The usurpation of a king, he felt, would be too much. Indeed, he was probably right . . . coupled with the threat of Lorcan’s machines. Had the boy only spoken more. Had I only listened . . .’ He trailed again to thoughtful silence.
How little we know of what is in his head, thought Wynter. How he must have missed my father all these years. The one friend to whom he could confide without fear of seeming weak.
‘You will speak to your heir?’ she asked gently.
‘Certainly, it is a better prospect than that which lay before me this morning,’ whispered Jonathon, gazing at the documents. His eyes wandered to Wynter. He regarded her for a moment, scanning her hair, her eyes. Then he sighed, sat back, scrubbed his face and seemed to shake himself free of his heavy melancholy. He cleared his throat and straightened in his chair; a king once more.
‘How did he find me in the end?’ he asked, briskly gathering the papers.
He mistook their silence for reluctance and looked at them from under his brows. ‘How did he know to send you here?’ he asked, tapping the sheaves into order. ‘Come now!’ he said. ‘I shall need to know. Who was it that betrayed me?’
Razi glanced at Wynter in utter confusion.
‘Did your Majesty not arrange to meet the Royal Prince?’ she asked.
The King’s hands froze in the act of tying the folder. ‘You said he sent you,’ he said darkly.
‘He did,’ said Wynter, ‘with these. But . . . Majesty, did you not arrange to meet his Highness?’
‘You said he sent you here!’ roared the King, surging to his feet in panic.
‘No, Majesty! We were headed for the palace, but on the trail we met a messenger who told us you were camped here. We diverted our course and came to deliver his Highness’s messages.’
‘A messenger? One of Alberon’s men?’
‘Yes, Majesty. He was in much haste to reach him. He seemed to believe you wished to ambush the Prince. Do not fear, though, it is unlikely that he has managed to divert his Highness. I suspect the Prince will have left camp before the man arrived – whatever your arrangements are, I have no doubt they still stand.’
‘Then Alberon is . . . ? No!’ the King pushed the table back.
Wynter and Razi leapt from their chairs and ran after him as he tore his way through the tent door.
‘François!’ he yelled. ‘François!’ The captain came running. The soldiers all stood to attention. ‘My horse!’ shouted the King. ‘Hurry! I must forestall him!’
The captain gestured to a man who ran to get the King’s horse. Then he stepped close to Jonathon, his voice low. ‘You have changed your mind, Majesty?’
The King grabbed him by his shoulders. ‘Most strongly, friend. Pray God for me that I am not too late.’
Hope flared in the captain’s eyes and he squeezed the top of the King’s arm. ‘Thank God!’ he cried. ‘I shall get my horse.’
‘No. Keep these innocents here. They must never see, you understand?’
The captain nodded. ‘I swear it.’
A soldier led the King’s horse through the milling crowd. Jonathon grabbed the reins from him and swung into the saddle, scattering men in all directions. ‘Stay here!’ he cried as some of the soldiers ran for the highline. ‘You will stay here!’
‘Christopher!’ yelled Wynter. ‘Get the horses! We must accompany the King!’
Christopher and Sól began to push their way through the reluctant soldiers. The King turned in the saddle, staring down at Wynter, and she glared stubbornly back. He nodded.
‘Release the Lord Razi’s men,’ he called to the captain. ‘Give them their weapons and their mounts.’ At the captain’s uncertainty, the King’s face drew down in sorrow. ‘They know all there is to know, François. God help them. They are already part of our poisoned circle. Give them their weapons, leave them join me. But keep these others here!’ Jerking his horse around, the King thundered away through the long grass, his last order trailing behind him