Page 59 of The Ragpicker King
“I cannot fathom how you can bear to,” said Kel.
Conor set the wineglass down. “Believe me when I say I wish it was not necessary.” He sounded weary enough to make Kel feel torn in half. Half fury that there was no way to stop Gremont, that Conor could not do it, that Kel himself was helpless, alone with his bitter fury and murderous rage. And half despair that these grim calculations were ones that Conor was forced to make, that he had no choice.
Another grinding sound ripped through the Arena. Iron portcullises at opposite ends of the field below heaved upward, and from the dark space within came marching a long line of crocodiles, each one with a steel ring around its scaled neck. A chain was attached to each ring, the other end gripped by a masked crocodile handler. As the soon-to-be-fighting reptiles entered the Arena one by one, they were met with cheers and admiring cries.
Kel and Conor watched the parade for some time in silence, Conor through half-lidded eyes. The animals would be paraded for the admiration of the crowd, after which bets would be placed and the fights would begin. Kel had little stomach for bloodsport, but he had to admit that if he had to watch any animals fight, he would feel the least sympathy for the terrifying monsters that lurked in the harbor. He thought of Fausten, his scream as he had hit the water, the splash and the silence that had followed.
“Sometimes,” Conor said, breaking the silence—he seemed to be speaking half to Kel and half to himself—“we must forget that we are creatures with feelings. We must take the emotions we haveand bury them, or turn them to stone. And hope to the Gods it does the trick.”
Kel wasn’t sure what to say to that, but at that moment Benaset approached the box and cleared his throat politely. “Monseigneur,” he said to Conor, “there’s someone here to see you.”
The Castelguard looked down at Lin—he stood upon the step above, adding to the sense that he towered over her—with a superior frown. “One cannot simply intrude upon the royal presence,” he said, gesturing at the flower-draped box some feet above them. Lin could just see Conor and Kel, who seemed deep in conversation; neither had noticed her yet. “If you wish to lay a matter at the feet of the Prince, there are ways—”
Lin clenched her fists at her sides. She hated what she was about to say, about to do, but there seemed little choice. When she’d left the Sault, she’d found Ji-An outside, distraught. The other girl had begged her—
Well. That wasn’t precisely true. Ji-An neverbegged.She’d told Lin of the wreck of their plan to have Kel question Magali in the Arena.
“The Prince just turned up,” Ji-An said. “No warning at all, or any consideration for other people’s plans—”
“That does sound like him.”
“You’re going to have to question Magali.” Ji-An had taken Lin by the shoulders. “You’re the only one she’ll recognize, the only one she might talk to—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Lin had shaken her head. “She won’t tell me a thing.But—I think I can help another way.”
Which was how she’d found herself here, about to lie her way into the royal box at the Arena. Lin had never even been to the Arena as a spectator. She’d nearly choked on the dust when she’d first arrived, not to mention the strong smells of fried onions and sweaty bodies.
“Do you have no request?” the Castelguard asked, eyeing Lin—who had gone silent for who knew how long—with some puzzlement. “If so, I am going to have to ask you to remove yourself, Domna.”
Lin took a deep breath. “I am the granddaughter of Mayesh Bensimon, the Counselor to the throne,” she said, and saw the guard’s face change as she’d known it would. “Please tell the Prince I am here.”
The Castelguard looked irresolute. He cast his gaze over her, more closely this time, noting her Ashkar colors, her demurely braided hair. She could practically see the gears whirring in his mind. Clearly he did not relish the idea of interrupting the Prince, but neither did he wish to risk Mayesh’s wrath by sending his granddaughter packing. With a shake of his head, he gestured for Lin to follow him.
Somewhere down in the Arena, Jerrod, Ji-An, and Merren were watching her as she hurried after the guard. She let that knowledge strengthen her as she approached the royal box. She could see Kel and Conor lounging on a long bench draped in rich fabrics, beside them a gilded table upon which was set a pitcher and wineglasses. The heady scent of Aurelian roses perfumed the dusty air.
“Monseigneur,” the Castelguard said, “there is someone here to see you.”
Lin held herself as calmly as she could as two pairs of gray eyes swept over her. The Prince’s were heavy-lidded; he seemed to be squinting at her, as if trying to recall exactly who she was. Beside him, Kel had gone still, but it was the only surprise he showed. Lin forgot sometimes what a good actor he had to be, to do what he did.
“Domna Caster,” Conor said, inclining his head. The sun sparked off the slim gold circlet that bound his brow. “To what do we owe this pleasant surprise?”
Lin spoke quickly. “Monseigneur. I bring word to you from my grandfather. He would have come to the Arena himself,” she added, “but he is an old man, and the sun is too strong for him here.”
Conor smiled a charming smile. She wondered if he had practiced it in a mirror. Like a painted screen in a theater, that smile, hiding the unknown. “Well, let her in, Benaset. One cannot disregard word from the Counselor.”
Benaset stepped back, and Lin entered the box. Something crackled beneath her feet; she glanced down to see the floor strewn with dried petals. Conor was watching Benaset leave, his only movement the tap of his fingers against the arm of his chair. Kel was looking out at the Arena floor, but Lin could tell his attention was on her. Waiting to see what she wanted, what she’d do next.
Heart beating like the tap-tap of a timbrel, Lin said, “Sieur Kel Anjuman, please excuse us, but my business is state business, I’m afraid. I must speak to the Prince alone.”
Kel glanced at Conor, who shrugged, as if to say:This is not my doing,and nodded. Kel rose to his feet. “It’s no trouble, Domna. It gives me a chance to place a bet on today’s fight. I have a good feeling about Green Death’s chances.”
Kel ducked out of the box, angling a quick smile of acknowledgment at Lin as he went. It was a comforting look: one that said they were in this together even as they went their separate ways.
The moment Kel had gone, Conor’s whole demeanor changed. Lin saw the tension in him as he turned his full attention to her. “I told you how to reach me,” he said. “Through the Castelguards, not like this—”
“I couldn’t wait. I had to speak to you.”
“Has something happened? Are you in danger?”
