The Runaway King

He shrugged. “It depends on what you mean by that.”



“I’m asking how concerned I should be about protecting my borders from an Avenian invasion.”



His forced laughter came out awkward and condescending. I didn’t even smile, and his laughter quickly died out. Then he said, “I’m sure you have much bigger problems tonight than worrying about my armies.”



“Oh? What problems are those?” Vargan probably didn’t know the attack on me had happened earlier than planned. Therefore, I used the same innocent tone that had always worked on my father when I gave excuses for missing my lessons. Although the stakes now were far higher than a reprimand to my backside.



Vargan’s mouth twitched, but the smiling was over. “If you’re as clever as they say, how can you fail to see the danger in front of you?”



“You’re in front of me. Should I be more concerned about you, or my old friends, the pirates?” I paused to let that sink in, then added, “Or is there no difference?”



Without a flicker in his voice, he said, “The pirates live within my borders, but govern themselves, even have their own king. On occasion we may work together, but only when it’s for our mutual purposes.”



Obviously in my case, it suited their purposes very well.



“Will you pass them a message for me?” I said. “Tell them I’ve heard rumors of war on my country, and that if such a thing is attempted I’ll destroy them.” Vargan stared blankly at me as I continued, “I won’t start the battle, but if it comes, I will finish it. Tell them that.”



Vargan chuckled, but it didn’t hide his irritation. “That sounds like a threat against me, young king.”



“It couldn’t have been, unless you’re threatening me.” I arched an eyebrow. “Correct?”



With that, his face relaxed. “There’s some courage in you, and I admire that. In my own youth I was just the same. I like you, Jaron, so I’ll forgive your arrogance . . . for now.”



That was good news, though I didn’t much like him. He had fish breath.



Vargan leaned closer to me. “In fact, I’ll make you an offer. Let’s begin with an easy agreement. Before his death, your father and I were negotiating for a small area of land on our borders, near Libeth. The Carthyan land has a spring that my farmers need for their crops. Carthya has other springs nearby, so you won’t miss it.”



“My father wouldn’t have missed it, but I would,” I said, with no actual idea of which spring he meant. “It happens to be my favorite water source in all of Carthya, and I won’t part with it.”



Vargan frowned. “This is a time for cooperation. Work with me, as your father did, and keep Carthya at peace.”



“What’s the point of gaining peace if it costs us our freedom? I won’t trade the one for the other.”



He took a step forward. “Listen to me, Jaron. I’m trying to warn you.”



“And I’m warning you. Do not bring war to my country. Either from your own forces or from pirates working in your stead!”



This time when I mentioned the pirates, I saw a flash in his eyes, something he wasn’t able to control.



He knew. I was sure of it.



“Your Majesty?” Gregor Breslan, captain of the Carthyan guard, emerged from the chapel and approached with caution. “Where have you been? Is everything all right?”



Gregor looked exactly as a captain of the guard should. He was tall and muscular, with dark hair and a stern face that communicated his serious nature. He also had a close-cut beard that I’d heard he grew to cover battle scars from years ago. Gregor was highly competent and intelligent enough, but also a bit of a wart. We pretended to tolerate each other’s failings, and frankly, he was trying harder at it than I was. I completely blamed him for being so grating. But to be fair, it wasn’t his fault now for coming at exactly the wrong moment.



Still facing the Avenian king, I said, “It seems our privacy is at an end. I hope your back feels better, unless a sore back keeps you from invading me.”



Vargan laughed. “Give me no reason to invade, young king. Because if you do, a little back pain won’t stop me.”



We shook hands, then I gestured to Gregor and said, “Walk with me.”



He fell in step at my side as we crossed the expansive courtyard. “But the funeral —”



“Is nothing but good theater for nobles unable to love anything but their own reflections.”



“It’s not my business to tell the king how he should behave at his own father’s funeral, but —”



“You’re quite right, Gregor. It isn’t your business.”



Beside me, I could feel his temper boil, but in a carefully controlled voice he said, “What did Vargan mean about giving him no reason to invade?”



“He made me an offer. In exchange for a promise of peace, he wants some of our land.”



“A heavy request. But it always worked for your father.”



“It does not work for me. We will defend the borders of this country!”



“With what army? Your Majesty has sent nearly every man that could be spared down to Falstan Lake, for no other apparent reason but to take earth from one area and leave it in another. It’s a waste of manpower and an unnecessary decision.”



Actually, it was a tactical decision for a fallback plan if war did come to Carthya. I had wanted to share the plan with Gregor and my regents, but Kerwyn had cautioned me against it. The regents already questioned my competence as king. Kerwyn felt this would only reinforce their doubts.



“Bring the men back to Drylliad,” Gregor said. “I need them here.”



“Why? To shine their shoes and march in formation? What good is that to anyone?”



“Respectfully, sire, if we’re asking questions, then I might wonder why you’re wearing a vigil’s cloak, and why you’re hiding your arm.”



I stopped walking and faced him, but huffed extra loudly to be sure he heard me. Then, with some reluctance, I unfolded the cloak so he could see my bandaged arm. Most of my sleeve below the bandage was colored by blood that had soaked into the wet fabric.



At the sight of it, the muscles on Gregor’s face tightened. Still staring, he said, “You were attacked.”



Another brilliant deduction from the captain of my guard. Even through Imogen’s bandage, the wound’s exposure to air sharpened the sting, so I covered it again.



“Two pirates got inside the castle walls,” I explained. “Vargan must have helped them somehow.”



“Do you know this for a fact?”



“Yes.”



“And you have proof?”



“Well . . . no.”



Only thinly concealing his disgust, he said, “Your Majesty, what if this whole idea of war is just in your head? Maybe Vargan isn’t behind tonight’s attack, but you see it that way because you’ve already decided he might invade.”



“He is going to invade!” Gregor shifted his eyes from me, but I continued anyway. “They want our land, our resources. They will take all that we have and destroy all that we are.”



“We’ve had years of peace, sire. Your return home shouldn’t change anything.”