The Unwritten King

17. Crescendo

A new coach arrived for them within the hour.

The horses were shaken and roughed up but uninjured. The driver took the calmest of the four and raced for the castle. Yasmin tried to convince Rayan to go home, try again another day; Rayan shut her down with cold decisiveness. Nicholas heard all of this from a distance, with his back turned. As far as he could get from the wreckage before Yasmin barked at him to stop.

Rayan crouched next to him. Behind them, the others were dealing with the disaster. With the corpses. Nicholas shuddered.

"Your hands," said Rayan. Nicholas saw that he was holding a key. Rayan freed Nicholas' hands, then returned his own to his lap. His right hand scratched at the palm of his left, digging into the fabric of the glove as if trying to scrape away something underneath. "Only until you pull yourself together."

He noticed Nicholas watching his hands and folded them. Nicholas wrapped his arms around himself.

"Would you have rathered we let them take our stones? Those groups don't leave witnesses."

"I didn't say anything," said Nicholas.

"It's bigger than self defense. It's the defense of the kingdom. If such acts against the crown were taken lightly, there wouldn't be a crown for much longer."

"I understand."

"It isn't as if I enjoy-" Rayan paused. His lips pressed together. Confused. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"I never asked you to."

Nicholas watched him start to speak, then decide against it. Rayan turned his head away. They waited there a long while.

The second coach was black down to the spokes. Otherwise, the road was bare, like the fight had never happened. It took some time to hook up the old horses - there were six in total now, and four shurta. Nicholas spent that time counting his breaths so he wouldn't hurl the second they started moving and make himself Yasmin's next victim. Rayan still looked sick. He took the middle seat without complaint. Nicholas could see on Yasmin's face that she wanted to protest again, but the air around Rayan left no room for discussion. Nicholas was back in his cuffs.

They arrived in thirty minutes. Pondtam Prison was a strict rectangular building with vast stone walls. There was little to discern from the outside, just a sense of finality that reminded Nicholas of nearly drowning. Only the gatehouse guarding the front wall gave it any sense of time or feeling. That is, centuries old and baleful.

The driver strode to the iron grate and spoke to one of the shurta posted there. The grate was lifted with haste, and the prison guard vanished into the dark. He came back with two other men. Only then did Yasmin emerge from the coach and help Rayan down. She let the door close behind them, so Nicholas had to shoulder his way out. His momentum nearly landed him on his ass in the road, but at least no one saw him stumble. Everyone facing them had dropped onto one knee.

"Rise. I would like to do this as quickly as possible."

The last to obey was a young man, maybe a boy, swimming in his coat. He glanced up hesitantly, like he thought it might be illegal to stand in the presence of the king, before jumping to his feet so fast he looked dizzy afterward. The oldest of them, a man in a frock coat and a cap, spoke for the group.

"What a pleasant surprise, Your Majesty. May I introduce-"

"Did you hear me, warden?"

The warden took it in stride. He was tall, and might have once looked strong and frightening. Now, he mostly looked frightening. "Very efficient, Your Majesty. Did you hear him, boy?"