The Stolen Prince (Blood for Blood Book 1) (7 page)

Her father stood once everyone was seated. “We sit! We eat! Family, friends, and allies, feast!”

Kara smiled and sat across from Prince Sesto, whose servants stepped back to give him room. Several of them went to fetch food for him.

“Why don’t you—” Kara stopped herself. Prince Sesto looked up, curious.
His eyes don’t look as dull as his face
, Kara thought immediately. She was going to ask him, “Why don’t you get your own food?” But her mother’s advice to remain silent made her bite her tongue. Quickly, she stood up to fetch her own plate. She hated being served. Her mother grabbed her arm and gave her a look. Kara sat back down, obediently waiting for a servant to fetch her food.

King Darr turned to her. “We have meadows of the most beautiful flowers that we use to dye our clothes. They are beautiful colors, aren’t they princess?” Kara looked down the table, regarding the frills and frocks that clothed the honored guests. She glanced back to where King Darr sat on her father’s right—a place of honor. He was smiling at her.

“They are beautiful,” she managed to choke and then smiled demurely. She glanced at her mother, who gave a curt nod.
Good girl
, it said.

Kara had the sudden urge to scream, or worse, zip across the room. She tried to ignore the pressure of the air around her. That type of behavior would be embarrassing.

Finally, the servant arrived with her food. As always, they picked a little bit of everything when Kara would have rather gone up and picked two of her favorite things, but her father was showing off—this was all the kingdom could boast in abundance. She thought it was interesting that as much as the kingdoms appeared to be allies, they were always trying to impress each other. As if the food on her plate said, “We don’t need you to survive, but you need us. Look what we can offer.”

Kara’s eyes wandered from her plate, where she was absorbed in collecting the things she liked onto a spoon, to Prince Sesto. He was staring off, hardly paying any attention to the world around him. He ate his food in rhythmic motions. One, chew, chew. Two, chew, chew. Kara was bored just looking at him.

This man is my fiancé?

“It must be hard to be six of nine sons,” she said without thinking. She closed her mouth immediately and glanced at her mother. Fortunately, her mother was preoccupied. She had meant to think it, but it had spilled out of her mouth as usual. She was a terrible stoic. She could already feel a deep red blush spreading across her cheeks.

“I know no different,” the prince replied, not even looking at her. He was preoccupied with shoveling food in his mouth.

Kara shrugged and decided the more she looked at him, the more depressed she got about being engaged to him. So she looked around her and tried to listen in on the conversations. She realized many of the people at the table were looking at her.
That’s right
, she thought.
I was a secret
. She hadn’t gone to the balls, the meetings, the duels, the games, or any other normal activities reserved for ladies in high society. To many, she was a complete mystery. She had been taught about all the royalty as a part of her studies. She knew her many great aunts, great uncles, cousins, and distant relatives, but they didn’t know of her.

Most of them looked away when she met their eye, but it was enough time to notice that most regarded her with distaste. Now why was that?
Ah
, she realized,
my existence means the king doesn’t trust even you
.

“We rejoice that Prince Sesto will be married to Kara, the princess!” King Darr said, catching Kara’s attention at the mention of her name. He raised his glass, and the entire table raised theirs as well. Just when Kara thought the feast might actually feel like an engagement party on her behalf, King Darr bookended his remark. “Though it is a wonder why you kept her a secret so long.”

The gathered royalty all perked up to see King Arden’s response. They probably wondered in their hearts as much as King Darr did, but they didn’t dare say it out loud. Kara’s father smiled graciously. “Until I could be sure she was old enough to remain safe, I did not want her taken from me the way my son was.”

The room grew sober at that. All conversation ceased, and the silence was only broken by the muted sound of chewing and swallowing.

King Arden broke the silence with another toast. “I am pleased that my daughter will be happily married and that their marriage will unite our kingdoms as allies.”

“Yes…” King Darr said slowly after downing his drink. He reminded Kara of a gopher, a gopher with a slight lisp. “What should be done about the Terra?”

Though Arden’s face didn’t betray it, Kara knew the question annoyed her father. It presumed that the king of Atmen had done nothing. His reply said as much.

“Discussing the war would be inappropriate during a feast celebrating our children’s engagement,” King Arden said politely.

“Then let us talk philosophy,” King Darr proposed. “Are the Terra beasts or humans? Should they be preserved or…” His polite smile betrayed blood lust. “Or should they be destroyed before they can do any harm?”

“They make good slaves,” King Arden said, taking the bait to talk about “philosophy” and not war. “They work our fields, doing the hardest labor in every industry. In this way, the water people may have more comfort in their labors.”

“So the Terra are like cattle,” a Keeper of the Present said, joining into the discussion. “Useful to us when they are subdued.”

“No,” King Darr said. “They are more like ziff’s. Once wolves, now obedient dogs. But the wild is always in them. There is always the chance that they will bite.”

King Arden’s first in command, General Iben, stood up, grabbing a dog leg. “That’s why we break them, like you do a horse.” He took a bite out of the mutt for emphasis. “And dogs.”

King Darr nodded. He turned to Prince Sesto and looked like he would ask him a question but stopped. The prince was busy looking at the ceiling.

Kara waited for the women to say something, for the queens to object to the conversation, but all their eyes remained averted.
The women might as well be in another room
, she thought, annoyed.
Is this how it will always be in public?
She may as well have stayed in hiding.

“It is interesting to question their humanity,” said another commander, General Elik, “The keepers are quick to point out that the Terra also have the power to port, which is a clear gift from the Master.” General Elik called over to a keeper. “What does this say about the Terra’s
humanity
?”

The keeper smiled. The tattoo on his forehead indicated him as a Keeper of the Present, a man who kept records of important meetings, duels, war campaigns—essentially everything to do with the day–to–day life of the Alem. Kara leaned in to hear this keeper’s response. “Perhaps you should ask the Keepers of the Past, who would know far more on that subject.” He bowed politely and turned away.

“If I may say something,” a cool, thin voice came from behind Kara. She glanced back and saw Rangi. He was a Su with piercing blue eyes the color of a glacier at moonset. He was Father’s most loyal Su advisor.
If the Su had ranks similar to the Alem
, Kara thought,
he would be the highest among them.

“Of course, Rangi,” King Arden said. “Enlighten us.”

“The Terra have the power, but it is a weaker form, just like that of the Su,” Rangi’s voice sang gently, a perfect example of self–control and poise. “The superiority of the Alem is clearly the Master’s blessing, for they do not need to store their source. Air is all around them. Perhaps the Terra are human, but their place should be serving the Alem, just like the Su.” Rangi smiled then, a perfectly warm and subservient smile. “But because they do not choose this right path, they must be compelled to serve like beasts, as slaves.”

King Darr roared. “Here! Here! You have a wise man in your midst, King Arden.”

Rangi bowed to King Darr respectfully. In response, the coastal king took a bite out of a pig rib. It dribbled down his cheek, and he smiled from the joy of it, pork sticking out of his teeth. Kara noticed Prince Sesto betraying an emotion of disgust toward his father. It was gone as quickly as it came.

King Arden stood, throwing his cape back and resting his hand on his sword. He peered coldly into the eyes of his guests.
He doesn’t trust any of them
, Kara thought. She wondered if her father’s training had made her just as distrustful. King Arden clapped his hands for everyone’s attention. “Enough of philosophy. It is time for a history. Family and allies, our next course.” King Arden threw his arm out, pointing toward one of the main entrance doors. “May I introduce the most talented man in the citadel, our truthsinger.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Skeet watched the groups gather into a large cavern within The Drums for the great council. All who gathered sat in large circles with the chiefs sitting at the head. Fires burned throughout the domed cave, casting everyone’s figures in multiple shadows against the wall. Each of the chiefs had a second standing behind him, acting as a bodyguard or avenger if the discussion threatened a duel between leaders.

He could see Gage sitting with the other guardians in a group by themselves. They sat apart from their tribes, to both show their position as the trainers of warriors and also their standing as childless men. A dark thought passed through Skeet’s mind. Sometimes he felt that Gage’s disapproval of him addressing Hakon as his brother had to do with the fact that Gage never had a family. Gage wanted Hakon to be cold and separate—less sentimental. It had been their mother’s death that had prompted the changes, when Gage had found Hakon crying. Hakon had said something to Gage then, something Skeet had not heard, but it was enough for Gage to kick Hakon out of the home. Since that time, he no longer ate with them or slept under their roof.

They still all treated him like a brother, despite Gage’s instructions. Skeet’s father was just too kind to leave the poor boy alone. Skeet could see that, over the years, it had hurt Hakon, and Skeet had always thought it was cruel of his uncle and guardian.

Where was Hakon?

Skeet looked around, unable to see him anywhere. He hadn’t been there at the morning meal either.
Perhaps he is still outside, fighting a tiger or something
, Skeet mused. He turned his attention to the proceedings, hoping Hakon wouldn’t be too late.

A chief from the northern tribes was standing and stepping forward to the fire. Skeet thought he looked familiar. “Terra! People of the earth! We arrive united, one people. One people against the Alem!” A slow and solemn chant spread around the large domed cave, and then the northern chief began speaking. The debate had begun.

Partway through the chief’s speech, Skeet suddenly saw the resemblance. The chief from the North was Windfather, the father of the Three Winds. Skeet smiled a malicious grin, staring at the stone–faced siblings who sat a distance behind their father. They were famous among the other tribes because all three, Jocki, Bavol, and Tadi, had the power of porting. Many children among the Terra were born with the power, but it was rare to have an entire family to have the gift. As Skeet turned his attention back to the heated discussion—it became clear that Windfather’s tribe were the main antagonists to the Kaldin tribe’s mission.

“You have always relied too much on the boy in your plans,” Windfather now said. He turned to address Gage and Tip specifically. “Yes, he has grown with you, learned the ways of the Terra, however blasphemous. It’s a sweet story, but he is still King Arden’s son. His own father would have us murdered like beasts.”

“The boy knows who he is, Windfather.” Gage now stood. “He knows what he has been intended for.”

“Do you forget the legends?” cried another guardian, stepping into the light of the flame next to Gage. “It would be dangerous and unwise to ignore their warnings…” His eyes passed over the entire council “… and promises.”

A heavy silence followed. Another chief stepped forward. “It is a great burden to put on a boy of eighteen. The fate of two peoples. How can we trust him?”

Gage took in a slow breath before answering. “We have watched him. We have shown him we are human while his father thinks we are barbarians.” Gage paused, glancing at the faces gathered. “We would not have let him come this far in our training if we did not trust him. If his nature was like his father’s… he would not have continued to live among us.”

Skeet was glad Hakon was not there to hear this. Did Hakon know that the family that took him in could have killed him? That as much as he was sheltered by the Terra, his brother was always at their mercy.

This was a revelation for some, and the whisperings among the different tribes grew louder as they debated amongst themselves.

“When will we avenge our fallen?” Windfather stepped forward to speak again, breaking through the noise. “We are stronger than our enemy! We have more zippers and porters born to us each year while their powers dwindle. Our hunters are trained by guardians and the Master of the earth…” he paused to bow to the guardians, “… while the Alem grow weaker. We have burned their villages and freed thousands of slaves!”

A mixture of shouts sounded, of both approval and disdain. Skeet felt a surge of pride for his own recent, successful raid. Windfather was a powerful persuader.
If only he were on our side
, Skeet thought.

Windfather continued. “Only their men fight, when even our girls know how to gut a leopard with daggers. We are stronger than them. It is winter in Atmen. Now is the time to strike with our spears! Avenge our fallen.” He gestured to the walls, and all eyes followed his gaze.

Silence spread across the dome. Windfather was pointing at the names of the dead carved along the walls. Some were fresh. Some were deeper than others, where the carvers had carved their names in deeper for each year they were gone. The names of their dead loomed around them, seeking revenge. Regardless of his upbringing, Skeet believed Windfather. What he said was true. They were a strong people—no longer ignorant of their enemy or complacent as people of the plains. They were people of the Desolate Mountains and Forest. Hardened and fierce.