Jewels lay upon a table. Soon ravagers would strip the room of any valuables, or rather, those not afraid the sorceress cursed her possessions. What did magical artifacts look like? How silly of Saris. If such things existed, wouldn’t the sorceress have used them herself?
A travel bag sat before a full-length mirror. Had Nyanda intended to leave? Saris’s teachers told her of portals, usable only by truly skilled magical practitioners. She approached. If Lady Gimitri couldn’t escape, Saris couldn’t.
Besides, she’d never leave without her younger brother.
Despair. Saris stared down into the sweet face of the baby in her arms. Little Pieravor squirmed in his wrapping. His mother spoke the truth. The enemy would not allow this child to live. If captured, Saris might survive, to be bound to someone of the conquerors’ choosing. At least she’d be alive.
“Sir Lyvianne?”
“Yes, Highness?” Sir Lyvianne bent at the waist, putting himself at eye level.
He started when she handed him the child. “Take him, go through the secret passageway. Ensure this child lives.”
“What about you?” His anguished expression held more sentiment than professionalism. He’d lost a daughter many seasons ago and now doted on his charge.
Saris stared longingly at the door. She could run. She could hide. Lyvianne would keep her safe. Her heart pounded.
No. Nyanda’s infant wasn’t the only child at risk. Saris’s four-winters-old brother needed her—the closest thing to a mother he’d ever known. As a princess of royal blood, she’d be more valuable to him as a captive than free, and more valuable to her captors alive than dead.
She must ensure her enemies offered Wycke the same mercy. If they found older brother Radre guilty of aiding a plot against the high king…
Wycke would be all alone.
Saris gave a sad smile. “If I go with you, they’ll never stop searching. I’ll stay to give you a chance.”I am Princess Saris of the Bertillian line. I will not desert my brother or my people to save myself.Sweet little Pieravor must live, though. He’d done no wrong. If known, would the child’s father offer sanctuary?
“I am sworn to protect you, Princess Saris. I cannot…”
If she told Lyvianne her actual plans, he’d never leave her side. Saris pulled herself up to her full height, still well below Sir Lyvianne’s. “I order you to take this child. Go! Protect him with your life.”
Lyvianne sheathed his sword, clutching the child to his chest. “I will do your will.”
Saris lifted the travel case with both hands. So heavy! “I’m not sure what’s in here, but it must be important. Take this with you.” The chink when she lifted the case spoke of coins. Lyvianne and the child needed money to support them wherever they went.
“Yes, Highness.” Lyvianne bowed.
They stood before the mirror, the princess, the child, and the warrior. Saris kissed the child’s forehead. Never again would she sneak to the nursery to play with him when his mother wasn’t around. Her heart ached for the soon-to-be motherless boy. “If only there were a safe place to send him.” Madness! She had no magical abilities to speak of. A portal wouldn’t open.
She prayed to every god she’d ever heard mentioned, tossing in the ancestors for good measure.
Crash!came from outside the door.Too close! “Go!” Saris hissed, “Now! Take the secret staircase.” She hurried toward the door to distract anyone approaching, pausing to give one last look.
Lyvianne and the baby were gone. Where? They couldn’t have crossed the floor so quickly.
Something sparkled on the floor. A tiny but ornate silver wristband. Power danced along many etched runes. Something changed when she touched the smooth metal.
A power suppressor? Child-sized? Why? For Nyanda’s son? But she said Pieravor possessed no magic. The child couldn’t use such a talisman now, but no sense in wasting good spell crafting. Not when the band might yet prove useful.
Clangs and screams came from the hallway. Any second now.
No telling where the staircase came out. The tower was too far from the city walls to avoid the fighting. Beneath her lay the older part of the castle, seldom used but far from Wycke’s room.
Would he even be there? Could she find him, flee with him? Maybe the elves would take them in.
No. Their father had destroyed any goodwill with the nonhuman races.
Still, she must try.
She darted to the secret door. Where was it? Saris banged on the wall, ran her fingers over the stone. Nothing but wall!