Prince of Lies

Chapter 33

"Your majesty, the ambassadors from Hos are here."

King Nikos, his eyes sunken with sleepless grief, slowly looked up and regarded Ilya and Chaol.

"They don't look like ambassadors." He remarked, in a broken, strained voice. "How old are you, boy?"

Ilya nudged Chaol. "Twenty, your majesty."

"Twenty..." Repeated King Nikos. "My son was twenty years old. He had his whole life ahead of him when he died."

Chaol awkwardly stood in the middle of the throne room, looking around, looking anywhere but Nikos.

"Come here, boy. Walk with me."

Chaol knew better than to argue. At least his Dya was shadowing him.

"Did you ever have the chance to meet Misha?" Nikos asked.

"No, your majesty. I'm afraid not." Chaol responded. "He seemed like a wonderful man, though."

"He was." Nikos said. "He loved playing chess. Do you play?"

"I try," Chaol said, humbly and carefully.

"Join me after dinner, then." Nikos ordered.

Chaol was a bit startled, but bowed slightly. "Yes, your majesty."

It wasn't just one night. For two weeks, Chaol and King Nikos played several games every night after dinner, while Nikos told stories about Misha and Chaol shared about his own family.

It was during one of those nights that a guard burst into the room, eyes wide.

"Your majesty, they're here."

"The rebels?" Nikos asked.

"Yes. They've reached the keep."

Nikos turned to Chaol. "Run then, boy. Back to your rooms with your uncle."

Chaol didn't argue. He wasn't good with confrontation. But as he left the dining hall, and Nikos, an odd feeling of...sadness? And regret?

"Chaol!" Ilya breathed with relief, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him to the room they'd been given to share.  "I was worried. You heard about the rebels?"

Chaol nodded. "What should we do?"

"Wait. If we try to leave, they'll see us as targets. We have to pray they're merciful. If not..." Ilya didn't finish the sentence. He had a sword. Whether he knew how to use it was a different story.

Chaol had the sword his mom gave him, but also didn't know how to use it.

They sat together, trying to appear casual, playing chess because there really wasn't more to be doing. But anyone experienced would realize all of the mistakes they were making in their gameplay.

When their door finally flew open, revealing an enraged Lieutenant- that's great, Ilya thought, even the guards had joined the rebels- Ilya stood up protectively in front of Chaol.

"Come quietly and there'll be no trouble." Instructed the Lieutenant, and a few seconds later they were being forced down the hall at sword point.

After turning down several halls, they arrived at the jail and were escorted into a cell. Chaol went calmly, but Ilya demanded to know what was going on.

"It's a revolution." Spat the Lieutenant. "Which your king helped cause."

Ilya just gripped the bars helplessly as the mutineers left.

"We need to get back." He said. "Jerym was right. They spared us, but we have to get back first."

"And how do you suggest we do that?"

Ilya looked around for anyone who was guarding the cell. Then, discreetly, he slid his arm through the slats of the cell and reached for the lock. The edges of his fingers just barely grazed it.

"It doesn't matter. We need a key." Chaol pointed out.

"Make one, you little genius."

Chaol sighed. He slipped his hidden tools out of his bag. "Let me try to reach."

Like Ilya, he just came up short.

"I'll try again. I think you know what to do to make my arm just longer."

Chaol paled. "Dya, no."

"You have to." Ilya waited for a few moments and made sure no other guards were coming, then took Chaol's lock picking tool in his left hand. Finally, he slipped his slender arm back through the bars, all the way up to the shoulder.

"Do it." He told Chaol, and held his breath.

Chaol shut his eyes tightly and pulled on Ilya's shoulder, dislocating it.

Ilya gasped, and barely stopped himself from crying out. It hurt like hell, but it reached. With Chaol's assistance, he was able to use the tool and free them.

With another painful grunt, Ilya's shoulder was back in place.

"Let's go." He said.

Under the cover of night, the pair snuck past guards and around corners until they reached the stables, where their horses were casually munching hay. There were no stable hands in sight. 

As Chaol adjusted himself in the saddle, shouting drew his attention towards the castle.

They'd been spotted

Chaol cracked the reins and then he and Ilya galloped away.

Once they were a safe distance away, across the northern border Calthan shared with Corvia, they finally allowed their horses a rest.

"We gotta get back to Hos." Ilya said, holding his shoulder painfully.

"Did I not set it back correctly?" Chaol panicked.

"No, it's fine, just painful." Ilya said. "We can stop here for the night, but no longer. I just want them to lose our trail. Don't even bother getting comfortable."

Chaol nodded as they turned their horses towards the direction of Corvia's castle.

They were apprehended almost immediately when they approached the castle, but Haruto's cousin Aera recognized them almost immediately.

"What are you doing all the way out here? Chaol, I know you don't like to ride."

So Chaol told her everything, about Misha and the rebels.

"And Haruto? Is he safe?"

"I don't know." Chaol said, honestly. "We left before the rebellion really took off. My guess is Jerym will make sure that all his children are safe."

"Good." Aera said. "Now, I'm only a duchess, but I will try to do my best to keep you safe. My military is mobilizing as we speak."

"I'm not sure if that will be enough."  Chaol said, quietly. "Corvia's military has never been that strong."

"So you two stay the night. And then be on your way in the morning. Ilya, I'll have one of my medics assist you with your shoulder."