Theft of Swords (The Riyria Revelations #1-2)

Hadrian could only guess how long they had been hanging against the wall; perhaps two or three hours had passed. The faceless voices of the other inmates grew less frequent until they stopped entirely, silenced with boredom or sleep. The muzzle covering Hadrian’s mouth became soaked with spit and he found it difficult to breathe. His wrists were sore where the shackles rubbed and his back and his legs ached. To make matters worse, the cold tightened his muscles, making the strain even more painful. Not wanting to look at Royce, he alternated between closing his eyes and staring at the far wall. He did his best to avoid thinking about what would happen when daylight came. Instead, his mind was full of thoughts of self-incrimination—this was his fault. His insistence on breaking rules landed them where they were. Their death was on his hands.

The door opened, and once more, a royal guard, this time accompanied by a woman, entered the cell. She was tall, slender, and dressed in a gown of burgundy and gold silk, which shimmered like fire in the torchlight. She was pretty, with auburn hair and fair skin.

“Remove their gags,” she ordered briskly.

The jailers rushed to unbuckle the straps and pull off the muzzles. “Now leave us, all of you.”

The jailers promptly exited.

“You too, Hilfred.”

“Your Highness, I’m your bodyguard. I need to stay to—”

“They are chained to the wall, Hilfred,” she snapped, and then took a breath to calm herself. “I’m fine. Now please leave and guard the door. I want no interruptions by anyone. Do you understand?”

“As you wish, Your Highness.” The guard bowed and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

She moved forward, carefully studying the two of them. On her belt was a jeweled kris dagger. Hadrian recognized the long wavy blade as the type used by eastern occultists for magical enchantments. Presently he was more concerned with its other use—as a deadly weapon. She toyed with the dragon-shaped hilt as if she might draw it forth and stab them at any moment.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked Hadrian.

“Princess Arista Essendon,” Hadrian replied.

“Very good.” She smiled at him. “Now, who are you? And don’t bother lying. You’ll be dead in less than four hours, so what is the point?”

“Hadrian Blackwater.”

“And you?”

“Royce Melborn.”

“Who sent you here?”

“A man by the name of DeWitt,” Hadrian replied. “He’s a member of Duke DeLorkan’s group from Dagastan, but we weren’t sent to kill your father.”

“What were you sent to do?” Her painted nails clicked along the silver handle of the dagger, her eyes intent on them.

“To steal Count Pickering’s sword. DeWitt said the count challenged him to a duel here last night at a dinner party.”

“And what were you doing in the chapel?”

“That’s where DeWitt said he hid the sword.”

“I see …” She paused a moment as her mask of stone wavered. Her lips began to tremble, and tears welled in her eyes. She turned away from them, trying to compose herself. Her head was bowed and Hadrian could see her small body lurching.

“Listen,” Hadrian said, “for what it’s worth, we didn’t kill your father.”

“I know,” she said, still facing away from them.

Royce and Hadrian exchanged glances.

“You were sent here tonight to take the blame for the murder. Both of you are innocent.”

“Are you—” Hadrian began, but stopped. For the first time since their capture, he felt hopeful but thought better of it. He turned to Royce. “Is she being sarcastic? You can usually tell better than I.”

“Not this time,” Royce said, his face tense.

“I just can’t believe he’s really gone,” Arista muttered. “I kissed him good night—it was only a few hours ago.” She took a deep breath and straightened before turning to face them. “My brother has set plans for the two of you. You’ll be tortured to death this morning. They’re building a platform where you’ll be drawn and quartered.”

“We have already heard the details from your brother,” Royce said dismally.

“He is the king now. I can’t stop him. He is determined to see you punished.”

“You could talk to him,” Hadrian offered hopefully. “You could explain that we’re innocent. You could tell him about DeWitt.”

Arista wiped her eyes with the insides of her wrists. “There is no DeWitt. There was no dinner party here last night, no duke from Calis, and Count Pickering hasn’t visited this castle in months. Even if any of that were true, Alric wouldn’t believe me. Not a person in this castle will believe me. I’m just an emotional girl. They’ll say, ‘She’s distraught. She’s upset.’ I can do no more to stop your execution today than I could do to save my own father’s life last night.”

“You knew he was going to die?” Royce asked.

She nodded, fighting the tears again. “I knew. I was told he would be killed, but I didn’t believe it.” She paused for a moment to study their faces. “Tell me, what would you do to get out of this castle alive before morning?”

The two glanced at each other in stunned silence.

“I’m thinking anything,” Hadrian said. “How about you, Royce?”

His partner nodded. “I’d have to say I’m good with that.”

“I can’t stop the execution,” Arista explained, “but I can see to it that you get out of this dungeon. I can return your clothes and weapons, and I can tell you a way to reach the sewers that run under this castle. I think they will take you out of the city. You should know that I have never personally explored them.”

“I—I wouldn’t think so,” Hadrian said, not really certain he was hearing everything correctly.

“It’s imperative that when you escape, you leave the city.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Hadrian explained. “We’d probably do that anyway.”

“And one more thing, you must kidnap my brother.”

There was a pause as they both stared at her.

“Wait, wait, hold on. You want us to kidnap the Prince of Melengar?”

“Technically, he’s the King of Melengar now,” Royce said, correcting him.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot,” Hadrian muttered.

Arista walked back to the cell door, peeked out the window, and then returned.

“Why do you want us to kidnap your brother?” Royce asked.

“Because whoever killed my father will kill Alric next, and before his coronation, I imagine.”

“Why?”

“To destroy the Essendon line.”

Royce stared at her. “Wouldn’t that place you at risk as well?”

“Yes, but the threat to me will not be serious as long as Alric is thought to be alive. He is the crown prince. I’m only the silly daughter. Besides, one of us has to stay here in order to run the kingdom and find my father’s murderer.”

“And your brother couldn’t do that?” Hadrian asked.