The girl scurried away.
robert thrust the message at Aurelia. "If the handwriting matches either elise's or edward's, we have written evidence. do you recognize the writing? does it belong to your stepmother?"
The message's neat print put elise's scrawl to shame. Aurelia shook her head. "It must be from king edward."
robert pulled a paper from his pocket. Aurelia craned her neck to see the writing sample he had stolen from edward's desk. The lettering on the paper ran together in an even sloppier fashion than the queen's.
Neither one.
Chapter Twelve
THE RACE
THE MINUTE HAND ON THE TALL CASE CLOCK IN THE waiting room clicked forward, 6:40 A.m. Tension crept up robert's spine, and nerves floated in his hollow stomach. The king's schedule should have remained empty until nine o'clock, but muffled voices hummed behind the official chamber door. someone had disrupted the king's morning even before Robert's arrival at 6 A.m. And judging by the rising and falling of the voices, the discussion was not going well.
Again the minute hand clicked. robert gathered his courage. He was going to have to interrupt the meeting. Aurelia was saddling his horse in the stables at this very minute, and he had promised her he would be at the arena before she arrived. He raised a hand to knock on the door.
Another hand clapped onto his raised elbow, halting the knock in midair. "There you are," said Chris. "I've been looking all over for you." robert blinked. He had been so anxious about the task before him, he had not even seen his cousin enter the room. "I finally wake up in time to practice with you, and you aren't on the field."
unbuckling the sword belt at his hip, Chris dropped into a cushioned chair. Clearly he had every intention of staying. "I sure hope you found what you needed yesterday," he continued. "I don't think king edward will ever follow me again. you should have seen his face when I showed him that old rubble pile by the sheep barns and told him it was the site of the new guest wing. He looked prepared to vomit." Chris leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on a footstool. "maybe that will keep him from returning here in the future."
robert glanced back and forth between the clock and the closed chamber door. Of all the times for his cousin to wake up at the crack of dawn. "Listen, Chris, I'm sorry, but I have to meet Aurelia in a few minutes. she and I have an appoint--"
"No, you don't, not until eight o'clock. she wanted me to tell you someone was detained and wouldn't be able to make it to the racecourse until then. I'd never have found you if she hadn't sent me here to deliver the message."
robert let out a breath. Another hour. perhaps he could catch the king without interrupting the argument behind the closed door. but he needed to rid himself of his cousin first.
Chris's silver sword hilt gleamed on the floor. The perfect excuse. "Listen," robert said, "I only have my real sword with me, but if you run upstairs and grab me a practice weapon, I might have a few minutes to spare."
Chris laughed. "between appointments with His majesty and Her royal Highness? I doubt it."
"still worried I might damage your perfect reputation?"
Nothing worked like a challenge to the ego. "All right." Chris headed toward the open doorway, then stopped. "Almost forgot, Father wanted me to give you this. It came for you this morning." He handed robert a sealed envelope and departed.
robert stared at the paper in his hand. His own name stared back in his father's bold script. unsteady fingers broke the seal, and the parchment opened in three pages.
Dear Robert,
Though I did not want you to return to the palace, I regret allowing you to do so without my support. I hope you are successful and that you know my anger stemmed from a father's desire to protect his son.
I failed to prepare you at the time of your departure for the task ahead; therefore, I have enclosed a number of details in this letter which may help you solve your case. As a spy for the king, I gained knowledge about the royal family which is not well-known. Please use discretion in how you share the information.
The letter went on with line after line of details robert had never been told. Halfway through the third paragraph, he stopped. His eyes read and reread the same sentence, the words blaring off the page. There it was. The motive.
He looked up toward the window, his thoughts swirling with the news and its implications for the young woman preparing to meet him at the palace arena. A veil of fog and early-morning mist obscured his view.
The cold mist soaked into the stockings above Aurelia's boots and drizzled under the neck of her riding jacket. Her eyes glanced up to the stallion she led at her side, then traced the inner edge of the ominous arena wall surrounding her. Where is he? she tried to force herself to relax her death grip on Horizon's reins, but her fingers disobeyed.
maybe something had happened to robert. He wouldn't let anything happen. He wouldn't leave me alone with this man. He wouldn't.
but he had.
A golden two-year-old colt cantered along the course's surface. The morning drizzle had softened the earth, and dark clods flew up as hooves dug a fresh pathway. perched on the colt's back sat a man matching robert's description of marcus gregory.
Aurelia's eyes followed him, noting his long dark coat and the way he sat straight up in the saddle. The colt turned in her direction, and she squelched the urge to flee back to the stables. gregory must have spotted her.
she could not panic and ruin the plan. Robert will be here, she told herself, sweeping one last look around the arena. Wooden seats climbed up into the fog along the rim of the gray wall, and a wide, grassy field, once used for jousting matches, stretched across the vacant center. A dirt racecourse surrounded the field in an oblong loop. And wooden barriers separated the course from both the seating area and the field. resounding emptiness.
except for the approaching colt with the assassin on its back. Aurelia moved up against the belly of the stallion beside her. she had not anticipated riding Horizon at all, but with gregory nearly on top of her, the stallion's back beckoned like high ground. she mounted.
gregory's beady eyes and long nose overpowered his other features as he rode up to her. He inclined his head. "It is a pleasure to accept your invitation to ride this morning, your Highness."
For the first time in her life, Aurelia was thankful subjects bowed rather than shook hands. she pulled Horizon a pace backward. There was no room for a sword under those riding clothes, but gregory might have a dagger, a silent weapon that would allow him to escape before someone discovered the deed.
she must stall for time. "your mount is truly stunning. do tell me, what is his background?"
gregory slid a hand over his dull blond hair. "I'm afraid I have only had the honor of riding him recently, your Highness."
A feeble attempt to hedge around the question, she thought. "And who is your employer?"
"I have had more than one employer this year." He tilted his head. "but I am now under contract with a young woman of some standing." A lie. unless one thought of elise as young. gregory himself could not yet have reached his late twenties.
"And what is your name, sir?"
"marc gregory." The truth seared worse than the lie.
Enough. she had invited him in the guise of wanting to see the colt race. As there was no other rider present, she must pretend to be doing the racing--at least until robert arrived. "I require a few minutes to prepare my mount," she said. "He must warm his muscles before I can run him."
"yes, your Highness." gregory's feral breath made her choke as the man neared her side. Again she pulled away. He had too easily accepted the concept of her riding. despite her expertise, most riders had to be persuaded to race against a woman, and she had told Anthone she would be the audience. Had gregory known she would be alone? Had someone stopped robert from joining her? Had someone harmed him?
A chill glided through her chest as she guided Horizon away from the arena's entryway. A desire to flee back through the opening tugge
d at her. but the gate was shut. she would have to dismount to open it. And she could not do so with any sense of security. she had closed the thick carved sides to give gregory the illusion of control. The trap tightened around her.
Her frantic mind sought another escape route. At the far end of the arena, the royal box jutted out to the very edge of the course. dark blue curtains hung without movement, pulled shut. The earlier dread of her father's presence behind those curtains paled beneath the blunt knowledge that no one was there. regardless, the exit inside the private box would be even more difficult to access than the main gate. A high barrier separated her from the inside.
she walked Horizon around on the dirt surface of the course as long as she could, clinging to every second. still robert did not come. The lines of gregory's face hardened until postponing the race no longer seemed wise.
"A loop and a half?" he asked, and she nodded. The last half did not matter. she needed a lead before the end of the first loop, a lead big enough to give her time to dismount and open the gate. she must get out ahead and break away.
Her mind spun in haunting repetition as she drew up beside the post at the start. He is going to kill me. He is going to kill me. He is going to kill me.
Wrinkles of concentration popped out on gregory's forehead as he grasped the reins and waited for the sign to go. A golden head tossed at the grip. Horizon also tugged for release. she pried her hand off Horizon's neck and lifted her arm to signal the start. Then let it fall.
Hooves, and muscles, and pounding earth. Horizon took his head immediately, and she let him have it. Tension ripped from her chest in the form of an uncontrollable scream urging him to go as she had never begged any horse. she did not know where she would go if she escaped the imprisoning wall. The future mattered only if she pulled ahead.
Horizon had never run a real race, never even run on a course, according to robert. The stallion ran now, not as a racehorse setting his pace, but as she needed him to run, as a competitor trying to break the spirit of the younger animal at his side.
The colt's spirit did not break. It held its own, flying out at the same unrestrained speed. It also was no typical racehorse. It also laid claim to desert bloodlines; and if its stamina held as Horizon's did, she could not pull ahead, perhaps not even enough to win the race, much less get a lead.
Neck and neck. gregory had not shifted from his rider's stance. If his horse was like Horizon, he expected his mount's stamina to hold out and give him the lead later in the race. They ran the whole first turn head-to-head, shoulder to shoulder, flank to flank.
Cold morning air numbed Aurelia's face, contrasting with the terrible heat burning her chest. she ducked down and swore to herself to ride smart. Forcing her eyes off her competitor, she urged Horizon on. At the sight of the return stretch, the stallion launched forward and began to pull away. Aurelia closed her eyes and breathed, willing herself to feel an increase in velocity.
When she opened her eyes, she glanced under her arm to see if Horizon had managed to form a lead. And her heart slammed up to her throat.
sure enough, the golden colt now lagged a foot and a half behind, but with that change the calm demeanor on gregory's face had disappeared. He had lifted out of his normal riding stance and was leaning forward. Aurelia barely had time to note his approach before a hand reached out to grab at her. In horror she realized how he intended to kill her.
It was to be an accident. Here on the racecourse. she would be trampled, or perhaps her neck would break, and who could ever prove her death was anything but a tragic error in judgment on her own part? Of course he would trample her. Had he not attempted to do so only a week before?
His rough hand grasped at her shoulder, and slipped off. she must not allow him to force her from her mount. The ground blurred beneath Horizon's hooves, a fast pathway to death. Anger bloomed full on gregory's face.
Horizon continued forward at full speed. Again gregory leaned forward, this time even farther as his horse lost ground. The assassin clutched at her rib cage. she twisted sharply, maintaining her tight hold on the stallion. Again gregory's hand slipped. He stood up in the stirrups and lunged to pull her off with his own weight.
but Horizon had had enough. Without her guidance, the stallion veered away from the treacherous rider. A tight clasp gripped Aurelia's ankle. Fear replaced thought. gregory's grip held firm even as the assassin came unseated. Terrible seconds.
Then he fell, colliding with her mount, and Horizon stumbled. still, his grip held, a deadly weight sucking her toward darkness.
And the weight dropped away. she heard a horrible crack as hooves scrambled over the body. Horizon swerved to the outside and regained his footing. Instead of continuing down the course, he rose up on his hind limbs and screamed.
Terrified of what she might find but afraid to keep her eyes off her attacker, Aurelia turned back toward the fallen man. The golden colt had continued to run. gregory lay on the ground alone, not ten feet away. Injured, but not dead. Though he lay flat, the assassin reached into his coat with his right hand. Fresh fear glided through Aurelia's veins. Her eyes focused on the hand: the hand pulling an object from the coat, the hand gripping the hilt of a pistol, the hand aiming the muzzle.
In that instant, Aurelia changed. This man intended to kill her. she had known this for what felt like a lifetime, and she had tried to reason herself a way out. reason shattered. she crouched low on Horizon's neck and urged the stallion forward.
Horizon leaped like a gush of blood from a main artery. gregory moved too slowly to get off a single shot as raging hooves lifted and slammed upon him--once, twice, three times, four. Aurelia held on, blocking out the screams from man and horse until Horizon drew back, pacing away. Only then, as she let her eyes drop to the broken, bleeding body, did her hands relinquish their death grip on the stallion's reins. Her body slipped to the ground. Her feet could not hold her. And she collapsed on the course.
Chapter Thirteen
THE DUEL
THE DISCUSSION BEHIND THE CHAMBER DOOR ceased. robert turned to see who had usurped so much time, and warning tingled up his arms as edward of Anthone swept out into the waiting room. sharp eyes met robert's, a thin line of recognition creasing edward's lips. Without a word, the Anthonian king brushed by in departure.
robert watched, baffled. strange that edward would notice him, much less recognize him.
"robert Vantauge?" Aurelia's father stood in the chamber doorway. dark crescents lined the bottoms of his eyes, and tension filled his face. "Waiting to ask permission for another pleasure jaunt?" His weak smile did little to lighten the tone.
"your majesty, I can explain."
"I should hope so. Actions in court rarely end on the day they are presented, young man. The repercussions can cause great damage."
"but I don't have time now." robert braced himself for the king's reaction. "I need you to come with me, your majesty, to the royal arena. The sooner we depart, the better. I promised Aurelia I would be there before the assassin arrives."
"Aurelia knows about the assassin?" a familiar voice echoed from outside the hallway, and Chris entered, sans the extra practice sword.
Thanks, cousin, your timing is uncanny today.
robert sighed as the blood of anger rushed into the king's face, and gray eyebrows spiked in slicing accusation. "you would place my daughter in harm's way?"
"your majesty," said robert, "your daughter is in harm's way every moment of every day until the instigator is caught." He met the king's gaze. "she understands that. do you?"
Chris shifted uncomfortably. "you've set a trap?"
"I believe the assassin will arrive at the arena within the half hour," robert answered. "prior to his arrival, I would like your majesty hidden behind the curtains of the royal box."
silence replaced accusation. The clicking of the clock filled the void, and robert could feel time slipping away. perhaps Aurelia had been correct. perhaps he should never have come here. but how cou
ld he convince this man to arrest the culprit without evidence? And there was no evidence stronger than the power of one's own sight. "your majesty, please come with me."
measuring eyes traveled up and down robert's body. "I want guards stationed around the arena to ensure her safety," said the king.
"There is no time or way to hide men in those seats," robert replied. "please come now."
Hesitation, then a brief nod. "Lead the way."
robert adjusted his sword belt on his way out of the waiting room. The light casing hugged his waist, and the pommel felt smooth under the tight clench of his right hand. His cousin's quick footsteps attached themselves to robert's heels. "Chris, you can't come. I'll see you this afternoon."
"you have lost your mind if you think I'm going to let you walk into this snake pit without me. If there's room behind those box curtains for His majesty, there's room for me." Chris placed a palm on the hilt of his sword. "besides, I was always better with one of these than you."
No point in arguing. They hurried down the stairs and out around the stables toward the arena. The early-morning fog had risen, taking with it the drizzling mist, but clouds hovered in a thick mass, holding down the morning chill. boots left footprints in the damp soil.
The gate was shut. Odd. It had been open when robert had inspected the site. For now he skirted the main entryway, heading instead to the private entrance on the opposite end of the arena.
A locked padlock sealed the door. The king reached below his collar and pulled out a large metal key on a chain. The key of Tyralt, robert thought, the only master key on the palace grounds. passed from leader to leader on the deathbed of the reigning monarch, it was a symbol of succession as well as of Tyralian security. Click.