The Unsound Prince Read online

  He forced himself to think more slowly. Bear and Ochren were his father's men, so they would do what they were told to do. What would the Legatus do in this situation?

  Mudge felt a cold chill run down his back. It hadn’t taken him long to work out where they were going. It was what his father would do. They must be going straight to the heart of the problem, and by the fastest possible route. They would be crossing the mountains, and heading into the heart of Xaan.

  Ultrich Monhoven never waited for events to come to him. He struck first. He bypassed the posturing and the empty displays of enemy might, and struck at the heart of the enemy’s power.

  It was an all or nothing gambit that had served the Legatus well. Mudge hoped fervently that it would work just as well for the group leaving in the morning. He didn’t like the fact, but his father’s plans tallied perfectly with his own need for vengeance.

  It was a strange little party that left Shaker’s Hope the following day. Senovila had harnessed the horses he kept round the smithy, and fitted them out as pack animals. They had a type of netting slung on either side of a long saddle.

  Mudge had always thought of them as farm horses, slow but enduring. Now he saw them more closely, he realised his mistake. These were warhorses.

  They lifted their feet impatiently when he approached, eager to meet a challenge. They were heavily muscled, and precious stores of metal had been used to make boots that covered their feet to the top of their wide hooves. One kick would kill a man.

  Senovila must have brought the horses from Xaan when he came to Shaker's Hope, or their sires before them. Mudge didn’t have the farmer’s eye that could guess their ages.

  When he looked round there were dappled green outfits everywhere. Bear, Ochren and Shyleen were no longer hiding what they were, elite Rangers in the Karnatic Defence Forces.

  The oddly patched greens of their clothing made them invisible in forest or scrub. Senovila was being outfitted in the same colours by Arnima, much to his annoyance. Whether the annoyance was at the uniform, or Arnima fussing about him in the presence of the others, was hard to tell.

  “Who’s going to want to skewer an old smith like me,” he protested. “They’ll just think I’m the cook or something. Anyway, I’d like to see them try!”

  A triumphant gleam shone in his eye as he balanced himself on his feet and recalled the many victories of his youth. Mudge conceded it would still take a great deal to stop the old warrior.

  “You know how archers like to pick out someone in different colours,” said Arnima firmly. She looped a pair of breeches around Senovila’s hands and tied them off to stop him waving his arms around. Then she checked the fit across his shoulders. Senovila subsided, embarrassed that she had so easily trussed him like a chicken.

  Mudge was surprised to see Colma in brown and russet clothing. He was not, apparently, one of the Rangers. He had, however, been hunting with Bear and Ochren often enough for them to trust him in the wilderness, and Colma had been adamant from the start that Bear and Mudge weren't going anywhere without him.

  Arnima was also going. Mudge had half expected that. She was middle-aged and a round little thing, hardly suitable for the rigours of the weeks and months ahead, but the bond between her and Senovila was unbreakable. He decided her strange ‘healing skills’ might come in handy too.

  A trader couple, Mareet and Liam Cathart, completed the group. Mudge had seen them around Shaker’s Hope before. He had thought it odd they used the place as a base.

  Most of the traders he knew did a much wider circuit, hoping to trade the products of one region to another. That way they got the best prices. Now he understood that they had been checking who came and went around Shaker's Hope, and which people in surrounding villages had been asking after the village. It had been part of the way they had protected Mudge.

  Mareet seemed to take pains to look ordinary. Mudge figured that was part of her role. She seemed so much part of the background that people forgot she was there. Then she would overhear secrets not meant for her. Or pluck a blade from her sleeve, and use it before the target realised an enemy was that close.

  Liam said little. Like her he seemed to fit into his surroundings wherever he was. He could have been taken for a man of few words in any village.

  Mudge remembered Liam walking round Shaker’s Hope with his head down, his eyes vacant. Now, he was completely different. He strode like a man with purpose. His eyes flicked up just once to weigh up Mudge, then snapped back to more important things.

  When the little party was ready to go, Mudge counted nine including himself. Some had packs, but most had bulky waist harnesses that left their arms free. They waited patiently as Mudge struggled into the last of the packs. It seemed odd they had to carry so much when they had horses, but the reasons were soon made clear.

  "Idea of mine I've been wanting to try out," said Senovila enthusiastically, as Mudge fell into step beside him. "A lightweight cart that can be carried in pieces on the back of two horses. When there's a group of us, and so much mixed terrain, it could be just the thing!"

  Mudge realised there was an inventor inside his smithy friend. He had to admit the cart idea made sense. Senovila must have seen a dozen ways to improve things when he was a commander in the Xaanian army. Now he had a chance to try some of them out.

  "I can see wheels, and an axle," said Mudge, "and a few boards over there, but where's the rest of the cart?"

  "Ah," said Senovila. "We have to build that out of what we find in our travels."

  Mudge nodded. If they could get the cart working and hitched to the horses, they’d cover a lot more ground. Though that wouldn’t happen until they were through The Wilderness, and onto the flats of The Gap. It was the most direct route north. The fastest way to get to Xaan.

  "I thought the burial service went well," said Mudge, his voice catching despite his determination to make light of the matter.

  "Never easy saying goodbye," said Senovila bluntly. Mudge realised the smith must have lost a lot of people over his years as an army commander. Senovila’s experience of death seemed to lessen his own losses, but Mudge refused to get hardened to it. He suspected Senovila's bluntness was just a cover for his own deeper feelings.

  Jago had died for him, and that was a debt he could never repay. So had Luce. But on top of that there had been a special connection to Luce he would never be able to explore now. He missed all those days and years ahead, the opportunity to find out where that special connection might have led them. He had to make their two deaths mean something.

  The day was beginning to warm up when Senovila sought him out, and drew him away from the others.

  "You wanted to know about your family, boy," he said. Mudge's ears pricked up. They had been so busy over the last day and a half he had almost forgotten Senovila's promise.

  "They’re all alive," said Senovila, and Mudge felt a huge sense of relief. His father must have sent Senovila a spirit hawk.

  "Your uncle Evant Monhoven was badly wounded, but he'll live. It was an attack much like the one we had here. He's king of one of the Scion Kingdoms isn't he? Elsewhere the assassins were stopped before they did any damage to the royal line."

  So Senovila had been right. Whatever was stirring in Xaan had made a co-ordinated attempt to remove the leadership of the Karnatic League. That would have reduced the League to a collection of self-interested kingdoms, which would have been much easier to conquer.

  "The attacks were just what your father wanted," said Senovila.

  Mudge stared at him in disbelief. Ultrich would never want his own family attacked. He knew his father well enough to know that. Senovila went on to explain.

  "It brought out all the enemy agents inside the League," he said, “and the Legatus was ready for them. None of them, as far as we know, got away. Let Ottar Bey chew on that one for a while!"

  The head of the Xaanian Council had died less than a year ago, in mysterious circumstances. Many of the members of the
Council had been killed in the same ‘accident’.

  One of the nobles, Ottar Bey, had been trying to get onto the Council for some time, and no one knew where he was getting so much gold from. He was able to take advantage of the power vacuum to put his name forward. Then he was made First Elect in similarly strange circumstances. It was fast work. Senovila muttered about something unholy stirring in the underbelly of Xaan.

  “Ultrich is certain Ottar Bey was behind the assassination attempts here," continued the smith, “and Xaan has started picking fights with the nearest of the Independent Kingdoms. I'll bet Ottar Bey is behind that too."

  The trail climbed into the ranges of The Wilderness. It soon became little more than a hunter's track. Horses and people alike were reduced to single file, and the horses with their heavy loads had to be coaxed up the worst stretches of steep, crumbling track.

  They were not the only members of the party that had to be coaxed. Arnima was puffing and wheezing before she'd been two minutes on the steep slopes. Senovila offered his arm so she could lean on him, but she pushed him away and struggled on.

  She was furious with herself for holding them up, and close to tears. Liam tied a rope to one of the horse’s packsaddles, and handed her the other end. It was a simple and effective solution. Arnima continued up the track, more dragged along than climbing, and the travellers rested often.

  The little party came out onto a broad ridge just before midday, and Ochren called a halt. Mudge suddenly realised Shyleen was no longer with them. In fact, he hadn't seen her for some time. Bear didn't seem concerned.

  "She'll be back soon," he said, as he took a large upside down metal funnel from one of the horse packs. He set the contraption on the ground. Mudge watched him feed dry twigs into the base of it, then set them alight. It was time for a quick boil up, and a miniature heat haze soon appeared over the top end of the funnel.

  "No smoke," said Mudge, looking at the metal funnel. Bear smiled.

  "Standard Ranger issue," he said quietly. "Lots of small twigs, dry as you can get them. That's the secret."

  Mudge looked up to see Shyleen standing beside them. He jumped up, startled.

  Bear laughed out loud. "Stop sneaking up on the boy," he said. "He's got enough on his mind without you scaring the spirits out of him."

  "I wasn't scared!" replied Mudge indignantly. Shyleen shrugged non-committally.

  “She’s a scout,” said Bear, dropping a cap with metal arms on the funnel. He filled it with the water he wanted boiled.

  “Any Ranger is capable of doing a good job as a scout, but Shyleen’s the best. She senses things, even when she can’t see or hear them.”

  Mudge opened his spirit sense a little, and quickly closed it again. He had seen a connection between Shyleen and her surroundings that had nothing to do with her senses. A hazy spider web of light trails extended from her into the trees around them. It went out further than eyes or ears ever could.

  “I believe you,” he said, with a small shiver. It was bad enough trying to come to terms with his own power, he didn't want to know there were others around him with equally strange abilities.

  Now that Mudge could see Shyleen in her Ranger’s uniform, he realised the camaraderie between Shyleen and Bear was the closeness of those who train and work together, not that of brother and sister.

  "Is Ochren your father?" he blurted out, looking at Bear. Bear looked up at him slowly, then looked at Shyleen. She nodded.

  "Yes," said Bear. "It’s unusual for two members of the same family to be Rangers. If it does happen, they’re not normally allowed to work together.

  “Family bonds can be stronger than the rules Rangers have to live by, and that can get people killed. But Ochren asked for me to be allocated to him on this assignment." He shrugged. "I have certain, ah, unusual skills he thinks may be useful."

  Mudge turned his gaze toward Shyleen. She shook her head. He hadn't thought she was Ochren's daughter, but there had been something about the way Bear and Ochren had fought together at Shaker’s Hope that made him think they were the same flesh and blood.

  Then Mudge remembered Luce and her mother. They had both been spirit walkers. Apparently that wasn’t as unusual as Rangers working together. Whichever way you looked at it, all these people had put their lives on the line for him. He was still unbearably embarrassed about that.

  From the top of the ridge Mudge could see the wide depression in the hills that had Shaker’s Hope at its centre. He couldn't see the village itself, though the fields were visible.

  Beyond the depression the hills smoothed out into the rich, flat country of the Wild Marches. Though life had became pretty settled, and tame, since Ultrich had brought the Marches together at the very start of the Karnatic League.

  The small party was moving into the heart of The Wilderness now. Somewhere ahead of them were the cultivated fields of little Wensh, and the border with giant Beltainia, the closest of the Independent Kingdoms. Mudge wondered if areas like The Wilderness would continue to be wild forever.

  When it was time to set off again, Mudge could not resist one last farewell look in the direction of Shaker's Hope. He felt miserably nostalgic, and wondered if he would ever see it again. He had been catapulted into the middle of things he didn’t understand. Any number of unknown forces could swat him like a fly. Still, he knew that fear was a choice. He put his fears behind him, and fell in behind one of the horses.

  Bear and Mudge trudged along together until the track started to descend off the ridge. Then Mudge found himself next to Colma. He noticed the young man's awkwardness as he walked beside him.

  Ochren must have told Colma who Mudge really was, and what the assassination attempt meant. That was fair, since he was coming with them into the unknown, but it seemed Colma was having trouble knowing how to deal with Karnatic royalty.

  Mudge thumped him on the arm, and said, "remember when we put field mice in the pockets of Shyleen’s overalls after she'd changed for market day, and Luce found them. She went through the roof! Then she blamed you, and wouldn't believe that ‘nice new boy’ could have done anything so horrid?"

  Colma snorted to himself, and a grin appeared on his face.

  That's better, thought Mudge.

  "We have to stick together," said Mudge in a whisper. "We're the only ones who aren't some sort of super soldier that can make a weapon out of a soup ladle and kill ten men with it.”

  A solid thump landed squarely between his shoulder blades. "I can hear that, you know," said Bear, pretending to be angry. They all laughed.

  "But what, er, exactly, should I call you?" said Colma.

  "Call me Mudge," said Mudge. "That way no one will know who I am, and since I look the least like a prince out of all of us, they'll kill you lot while I sneak off."

  Colma thumped him on the arm while Bear put a stranglehold around his neck. Mudge begged for mercy, and Bear let him go. Colma was looking a lot more relaxed, and Mudge knew he'd done the right thing.

  Senovila could have told him right then that he was his father's son all the way down to his toenails. His father was aloof in affairs of state and ‘one of the boys’ when the chips were down, and certainly when he was part of a team facing down a threat to the League.

  Mudge, on the other hand, wouldn’t have wanted to hear that.

  The travellers trudged north for hours along the valley floor, until at last another track turn west again. As they laboured up the next ridge, Mudge wondered when they’d make camp. It was getting dark, and they hadn't started an evening meal yet.

  Near the top of the ridge his questions were answered. The track ran along underneath a limestone overhang on their left. At one point a fair-sized cave ran off into the darkness.

  "That's us for the day," called out Ochren, and they slowed gratefully to a stop. Shyleen descended from the top of the ridge, carrying two plump, heavy birds. She had taken them out of a tree with carefully placed arrows.

  “Tame as all get out!" she
exclaimed. "Hardly anyone hunts this far in. The woods are full of easy pickings."

  Bear had his funnel-shaped metal stove out and fired up in a matter of minutes. Mudge noticed Liam had one out as well. Arnima coiled the rope that was pulling her up the slope across the horse’s packsaddle, and sat down, breathing heavily, but it wasn't long before she was up and helping Mareet and Ochren prepare a meal. Mudge was impressed. At this rate she would trim down and shape up in a matter of weeks.

  They spent their first night in The Wilderness in relative comfort. The cave was dry, and held in the warmth. A hastily made bed of ferns and bracken allowed them a good night’s sleep. Shyleen and Bear took turns on lookout.

  Just before dawn Mudge woke inside one of his dreams. He was growing insanely tall again. He looked around, and saw a bright day had risen over the Marches. His vantage point rose until he could see the Independent Kingdoms over The Wilderness on his left, and the city of Xianak over the Scaffold Mountains to the north.

  This time, the dream was different. A giant black figure was standing triumphantly astride Xianak, while armies poured forth from the east, west, and southern gates of the great city.

  Mudge had seen his father's maps. He knew where the Trade Routes ran across the land. The army heading west would fall upon Beltainia first, and then the rest of the Independent Kingdoms. The army heading south would attack the Hill Tribes of the High Steppes. His mother's people.

  The troops travelling west would overrun the coastal port of Mishvart in less than a week. If Mudge was guessing right, they would slaughter the jungle tribes on the other side of the Galleon Straits. Then they would take over the gold and silver mines in the hills.

  Mudge woke as the dream began to fade, and he was pleased to find every detail still fresh in his mind. He looked around. Dawn was just beginning to coat the forest in a soft grey, and he could see Senovila next to Ochren at the mouth of the cave. He hurried over to talk to them.

  The information he'd learned from the dream might be something his father already knew about, but he wasn't going to take any chances. Senovila could send a message faster than anyone, if he could call Ultrich's spirit hawk. Somehow, too, they had to get troops onto the High Steppes to support the Hill Tribes, and they didn’t have long.