David Tallerman - Prince Thief

“That proved… untenable,” admitted Mounteban, his brief upturn in mood evaporating. “I’d hoped that, left to their own devices, they’d eventually see sense.”

The Palace Guard were notorious in Altapasaeda for many things: their fierce loyalty to the crown, their moral flexibility in its service and their comprehensive training in its defence, especially where that defence involved the use of disproportionate violence. One of the things they’d never been known for, however, was seeing sense — and with their beloved prince dead, it was a safe assumption that they’d be less inclined than ever. Taking all that into account, it was a fair guess that Mounteban’s plan had been more along the lines of “wait them out and hope they eventually starve”. In fairness, it was probably the best anyone could have come up with.

“However,” Mounteban continued, “there’s no need to march into the palace. Because the passage has a second exit, which opens outside the city… beneath your own barracks, in fact, Alvantes. No doubt its designers anticipated a less extreme emergency where retreating to the protection of the City Guard might prove useful. Had the Prince trusted you enough to reveal the location of that second exit, our problem would be solved. Still. When it comes to entering the palace and finding the entrance, one man might conceivably succeed where a larger force would be sure to fail.”

“I’m not convinced this passage of yours even exists…” began Alvantes.

“It does,” Mounteban cut him off. “And it’s our one chance of drawing aid to Altapasaeda before the city falls. You’d never have come here if you had another.”

Estrada and Alvantes shared a long look. I assumed there was some unspoken communication passing between them, for how else were they to discuss the possibility of a truce with Mounteban, who they’d gone to such lengths to depose, when he was sitting right there? He was all swagger now, not even bothering to look at them — but I doubted even he was truly arrogant enough to assume that they’d unquestioningly put their enmity for him aside to pursue so desperate a plan.

“Altapasaeda needs help,” Estrada said finally. “And there’s nowhere in the Castoval left to offer it. Frankly, Castilio, I’d don’t trust this scheme of yours. There’s far too much that could go wrong, and no guarantees even if it doesn’t. But I don’t see any other choices, and every moment we spend seeking one brings the King closer to our gates.”

“I don’t like it,” agreed Alvantes, “but it’s all we have. So I’ll go along with it… until you give me the slightest inkling that you can’t be trusted in this, Mounteban.”

“Let’s take the threats as said and heard,” replied Mounteban, with studied dignity, “and start preparing while there’s still a chance of success. The first question is who to send into the palace.”

“I think I could arrange a suitable diversion,” conceded Alvantes.

“The walls and the courtyard will be the hardest part,” Mounteban said. “How long would this diversion last?”

“Long enough, I think.”

“So, if someone were to scale the walls… perhaps to reach a window…”

I couldn’t take it anymore. It wasn’t so much what they were saying, but that I could feel Estrada’s eyes on me, boring into my skull in search of the conscience she seemed convinced was in there. “All right!” I cried. “Why not spare us all a little time?”

Mounteban and Alvantes turned my way as well — and it was only seeing the surprise in their expressions that I realised how badly I’d misjudged. What I’d taken for none-too-subtle hinting in my direction had been no more than the honest back and forth of observations, it appeared.

Yet, with my mouth open and working, I found I couldn’t simply back down. “Haven’t we been here before?” I said. “Oh no, something needs breaking into! Who can we possibly ask? Who do we know who used to break into things all the time? Who will no one miss when it all goes wrong?”

“Damasco-” Estrada began.

I realised then that, though Alvantes and Mounteban might not have had any intention of involving me, Estrada truly had. It was there in the gentle cajoling with which she spoke my name. Why couldn’t the woman just leave me alone?

And even more infuriatingly, why, when I knew she was manipulating me, could I not stop myself from talking?

“Spare me,” I said. “We’ve danced this dance enough times. Sooner or later, whatever I say, you’ll talk me into it, so just this once let’s get it over with. You want me to break into the palace? Fine! I’ll do it.”

It didn’t take long for the cracks to start showing in our new alliance.

We were leaving the Dancing Cat, with Mounteban in tow and Navare and another guardsman hovering awkwardly behind, no one having bothered to inform them about the fragile coalition. “I have a few men in mind to send north,” said Mounteban, offhandedly. “Men with some nautical background.”

“Freebooters, you mean?” retorted Alvantes — and the way Mounteban tensed suggested the dig had struck its mark. “Not a chance. For all we know, this treaty with Kalyxis is intended to serve you and you only.”

“Then go with them, Guard-Captain,” said Mounteban. “I’m sure they’d be grateful for your guidance.”

“And hand you back Altapasaeda? Never.”

“I’ll go,” put in Estrada.

“That’s absurd.” Alvantes’s reply had the abruptness of a reflex, and it was clear he’d realised his mistake almost before he’d closed his mouth.

It would take more than belated regret to make Estrada go easy on him. “Are we really having this conversation again?” she snapped. “Do I need to list the qualifications that make me every bit as suitable for this as you?”

“It isn’t that,” Alvantes said hastily. “But you’re needed here, and given the dangers involved-”

“For whatever it’s worth,” put in Mounteban, “I think Marina would be an excellent choice. From what I’ve heard, Kalyxis has little affection for men, to say the least. Sending a female leader would show respect, and understanding of her position.”

“Her position as a professional rabble-rouser?” said Alvantes. “I hardly think-”

“I’ll take some guardsmen with me, if you can spare them,” Estrada interrupted. “And one of the giants, if Saltlick agrees. They have a way of ensuring people pay attention.”

“Marina…”

Estrada rounded on Alvantes, throwing our small parade into chaos. On any other day such drama would have drawn attention on the streets of Altapasaeda, where gossip was a currency second only to gold, but amidst those still-chaotic streets it passed unheeded. “Listen to me,” she said. “If we’re agreed that this is our best option then one of us has to go. It can’t be Castilio. It can’t be you. Who does that leave?”

I didn’t even try to make out Alvantes’s mumbled reply. Estrada’s comment had struck so perfectly with the muddle in my head that everything else had fallen into background noise. She hadn’t suggested me as a possibility for the trip north, probably hadn’t so much as considered me — and where once that might have caused offence, now I realised I was glad. This foolhardy expedition was none of my concern, and that was exactly how I wanted it.

Of course, my own brush with death would arrive much sooner. Since my outburst in the Dancing Cat, one half of my mind had been gazing in horror at the other, the part that had so blithely thrust me once again into harm’s way. Yet, having had time to analyse my brash-seeming decision, I’d come to realise that inspiration had hit me as I’d listened to Mounteban — struck with all the jolting clarity of a lightning bolt. And it had much to do with my depleted money bag and the events that had filled it to brimming not so long ago.