“It was a trap after all,” Alric said. He turned to Royce. “My apologies for doubting your sound paranoia.”

“Alric looked up at the thief with a scowl. “I just want to say for the record that as far as royal protectors go, you’re not very good.”“It’s my first day,” Royce replied dryly.“And already I’m trapped in a timeless prison. I shudder to think what might have happened if you had a whole week.”

“Bah!” Magnus scoffed. “Humans always blame dwarves. A baby goes missing and it was a dwarf that stole it. A princess runs off with a second son of a king and it was a dwarf who lured her to a deep prison. And when they find her with the prince—lo, she was rescued!“A king is stabbed in the back in his own chapel, and a princess’s toweris turned into a death trap,” Royce called back to them. “Friends arebetrayed and trapped in a prison—yes, I can see your surprise. Where do they get such ideas?”“Damn his elven ears,” Magnus said.”

“Royce cast a harsh and anxious look at the prince.“What?” Alric asked.“I thought we discussed the importance of keeping a low profile.”“Oh, please.” The prince waved a hand at the thief. “I don’t think it willget me killed if this monk knows I’m the king. Look at him. I’ve seendrowned rats more formidable.”

“There you are!” he shouted at them. “Father has half the castle turnedout looking for you.”“Us?” Hadrian asked.“Yes.” Fanen nodded. “He wants to see the two thieves in his chambersright away.”“You didn’t steal the silver or anything, did you, Royce?” Hadrianasked.“I would bet it has more to do with your flirting with Lenare this afternoonand threatening Mauvin just to show off,” Royce retorted.“That was your fault,” Hadrian said, jabbing his finger at him.”

“Alric! Stop it!" Pickering snapped at him. "You mustn't let the men see you crying!"Fury flared in Alric, and he spun on the count. "No? No? Look at them! They are dying for me. They are dying on my order! I say they do have a right to see their king! They all have a right to see their king!"Alric wiped the tears from his cheeks and gathered his reins. "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of having my face put in the dirt! I won't stand it. I'm tired of being helpless. That's my city, built by my ancestors! If my people chose to fight, then, by Maribor, I want them to know it's me they fight!"The prince put on his helm, drew his father's large sword and spurred his horse forward, not at the trench but at the castle gate itself.”

“You didn’t really hold back on Braga so Pickering could kill him, did you?” Royce asked after the two were left alone in the hallway.“Of course not. I held off because it’s death for a commoner to kill a noble.”“That’s what I thought.” Royce sounded relieved. “For a minute, I wondered if you’d gone from jumping on the good-deed wagon to leading the whole wagon train.”