Rogue, Prisoner, Princess

“Your daughter is the easy one,” Jacare said. “She’s up at the castle with the nobles. They announced that she was to marry Prince Thanos.”

Berin dared to breathe a sigh of relief at that, even though he wasn’t sure what to think. Thanos was one of the few royals with any decency to him, but marriage?

“Your son is trickier. Let me think. I heard that a few of the recruiters from the Twenty-third were doing the rounds down by your quarter, but there’s no guarantee that it’s them. If it is, they’re camped a little way to the south, trying to train up the conscripts to fight rebels.”

Bile rose in Berin’s mouth at that thought. He could guess how the army would treat Sartes, and just what that “training” would involve. He had to get his son back. But Ceres was closer, and the truth was that he had to at least see his daughter before he went after Sartes. He stood.

“Not going to finish your drink?” Jacare asked.

Berin didn’t answer. He was going to the castle.

***

It was easier for Berin to get into the castle than it would have been for almost anyone else. It had been a while, but he was still the one who had come there to discuss the requirements for combatlords’ weapons, or to bring special pieces for the nobles. It was simple enough to pretend that he was back in business, heading straight past the guards on the outer gates and into the space where the fighters prepared.

The next step was to get from there to wherever his daughter was. There was a barred gateway between the vaulted space where the warriors practiced and the rest of the castle. Berin had to wait for that to open from the other side, pushing past the servant who did it and trying to pretend that he had important business elsewhere in the building.

He did, just not the kind that most of the people there would understand.

“Hey, you! Where do you think you’re going?”

Berin froze at the rough tone of that. He knew before he turned that there would be a guard there, and he didn’t have an excuse that would satisfy them. The best he could hope for now would be to be thrown out of the castle before he could get close to seeing his daughter. The worst would involve the castle’s dungeons, or maybe just being dragged away to be executed where no one would ever know.

He turned and saw two guards who had obviously been soldiers of the Empire for a while. They had as much gray in their hair as Berin did these days, with the weathered look of men who’d spent too much time fighting in the sun over too many years. One was a good head taller than Berin, but stooped slightly over the spear he leaned on. The other had a beard that he’d oiled and waxed until it looked almost as sharp as the weapon he held. Relief flooded through Berin as he saw them, because he recognized them both.

“Varo, Caxus?” Berin said. “It’s me, Berin.”

The tension hung there for a moment, and Berin found himself hoping that the two would remember him. Then the guards laughed.

“So it is,” Varo said, unbending from over his spear for a moment. “We haven’t seen you in… how long has it been, Caxus?”

The other stroked his beard while he considered. “It’s been months since he was last here. Haven’t really talked since he delivered those bracers for me last summer.”

“I’ve been away,” Berin explained. He didn’t say where. People might not pay their smiths much, but he doubted they would react well to him looking for work elsewhere. Soldiers didn’t usually like the idea of their enemies receiving good blades. “Times have been hard.”

“Times have been hard all around,” Caxus agreed. Berin saw him frown slightly. “It still doesn’t explain what you’re doing in the main castle.”

“You shouldn’t be in here, bladesmith, and you know it,” Varo agreed.

“What is it?” Caxus asked. “An emergency repair for some noble lad’s favorite sword? I think we’d have heard if Lucious had snapped a blade. He’d probably have flogged his servants raw.”

Berin knew he wouldn’t be able to get away with a lie like that. Instead, he decided to try the one thing that might work: honesty. “I’m here to see my daughter.”

He heard Varo suck in air between his teeth. “Ah, now that’s a tricky one.”

Caxus nodded. “Saw her fighting in the Stade the other day. Tough little thing. She killed a spiny bear and a combatlord. Hard fight though.”

Berin’s heart tightened in his chest as he heard that. They had Ceres fighting on the sands? Even though he knew it had been her dream to fight there, this didn’t feel like the fulfillment of it. No, this was something else.

“I have to see her,” Berin insisted.

Varo tilted his head to one side. “Like I said, tricky. No one gets in to see her now. Queen’s orders.”

“But I’m her father,” Berin said.

Caxus spread his hands. “There’s not a lot we can do.”

Berin thought quickly. “Not a lot you can do? Was that what I said when you needed your spear re-hafting before your captain saw that you’d snapped it that time?”

“We said we wouldn’t talk about that,” the guard said, with a worried look.

“And what about you, Varo?” Berin continued, pressing his point home before the other could decide to throw him out. “Did I say that it was ‘tricky’ when you wanted a sword that would actually fit your hand, rather than army issue?”

“Well…”

Berin didn’t stop. The important thing was to push forward past their objections. No, the important thing was to see his daughter.

“How many times has my work saved your lives?” he demanded. “Varo, you told me the story of that bandit chief your unit went after. Whose sword did you use to kill him?”

“Yours,” Varo admitted.

“And Caxus, when you wanted all that filigree work on your greaves to impress that girl you married, who did you go to?”

“You,” Caxus said. Berin could see him pondering.

“And that’s before we get to the days when I was following you all around on campaign,” Berin said. “What about – ”

Caxus raised a hand. “All right, all right. You’ve made your point. Your daughter’s room is further up. We’ll show you the way. But if anyone asks, we’re just escorting you out of the building.”

Berin doubted anyone would ask, but that didn’t matter right then. Only one thing did. He was going to see his daughter. He followed the two along the castle’s corridors, finally coming to a door that was barred and locked from the outside. Since the key sat in the lock, he turned it.

Berin’s heart nearly burst at his first sight of his daughter for months. She lay in bed, groaning as she came to, and looking at him with bleary eyes.

“Father?”

“Ceres!” Berin ran to her, throwing his arms around her and crushing her tight to him. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

He wanted to hold her tightly and never let her go right then, but he heard Ceres’s gasp of pain as he hugged her, and he pulled back hurriedly.

“What’s wrong?” Berin asked.

“No, it’s all right,” Ceres said. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Berin said. His daughter had always been so strong, so if she was in pain, it had to be bad. Berin never wanted to see his daughter hurt like that. “Let me look.”

Ceres let him, and Berin winced at what he saw. Tightly stitched wounds ran in parallel lines across his daughter’s back.

“How did you get in here?” Ceres asked while he did it. “How did you even find me?”