The King's Assassin (Complete)

Prologue

Eryk came striding out of the castle, pushing his thick leather hawking gloves into his belt. Servants and courtiers scrambled out of his way as he descended the broad stone steps that led into the courtyard, especially when a look of irritation crossed his handsome face.

"Where's my horse?" he demanded, glaring in the direction of the grooms.

One man struggled through the crowd, leading a black stallion. "He's right here, your Highness."

Eryk grabbed the reins from the groom's outstretched hand and practically threw himself into the saddle. His abrupt movement caused the horse to dance a little, and the prince reined him in sharply, taking his anger out on his mount. He was irate and distracted, thinking about the mess he'd just left behind him. If only his father would realize he wasn't ready to 'settle down' and choose a bride yet. He couldn't stand the thought of having a clingy, needy female following him around everywhere, curbing his freedom and leeching his will to live. It wasn't like all the young men were heading off to certain doom, needing heirs waiting in the wings in case some of them didn't return home.

Branden, braving Eryk's mood, guided his horse closer and leaned over in his saddle.

"So what's wrong this time?" he asked.

"The same as always," Eryk replied. "Father and I were arguing again."

Branden laughed. "So that explains the quick exit, even if today is a perfect day. I would have expected you outside eventually anyway."

Branden was the only son of Lord Collin, the king's chief advisor, and he'd been Eryk's good friend for as long as either of them could remember. He was the opposite of Eryk in nearly every way – blond hair compared to his friend's black, average height where Eryk was taller than most. Branden was grateful for being the opposite in this particular situation too, thankful that his father wasn't as anxious to see him married.

He could understand Eryk's lack of interest in choosing the woman he would be with for the rest of his life. The prince was very handsome, and quite popular with the ladies around the court – nobly born and not. Branden knew that he wouldn't want to have to choose just one lovely lady. Granted, there was a certain amount of leeway given to the men in the royal family, but nobody wanted bastard-born children running around.

Branden knew that Collin was hoping that Eryk would choose Alexius, Branden's sister, as his bride when he inevitably gave in to the king's demands. Branden smiled to himself, picturing Eryk as his brother-in-law, the three of them a tight-knit little group. It would be perfect.

"When's the Ball?" Branden asked.

"Two weeks." Eryk scowled, and then shook his head, as if to clear away bad thoughts. "Well, I'm still free for the time being. Father's trapped in court for the next few hours, so we've suspended the whole mess for the time being. Let's get out of here."

With no more warning than that, Eryk squeezed his knees into his horse's sides and moved into a quick trot. He had no problems leaving the rest of his entourage to catch up or follow along behind more slowly, as they wished. Branden hurried to keep up with Eryk, followed closely by their escort of red and grey uniformed guardsmen.

Part of Eryk knew that his behavior was irresponsible and dangerous, and that he should wait for his guards. Reckless was the word his father had been throwing around earlier. Eryk knew news of this would make his father angry, and that was just fine, as far as he was concerned. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to escape from the arguments and the responsibilities, and if his actions angered his father in the process, so much the better.

Once out of the city, Eryk kneed his horse into a smooth canter, and he and Branden soon came upon their destination. Eryk slowed to avoid startling their prey as the forest they'd been riding through ended abruptly, the trail opening into a lovely meadow. It didn't take long for the guards, the huntsmen with the birds, and the beaters to arrive, along with another few members of the court who were tagging along, but it was long enough for Eryk's temper to cool a little more. Branden was a comforting presence too, which helped to settle him down. He was determined that they enjoy this impromptu hunt.

Eryk usually preferred the more active hunts – deer and boar – but he hadn't had time to get that sort of hunt set up, so hawking was going to have to do. It was still thrilling to see your bird bring down its prey, and it was definitely nice not to have the dogs along today. They did tend to be noisy, and he was enjoying the quiet. Eryk turned to look for his bird, eager to get started.

Today the huntsmen had brought a red-tailed hawk for him and a peregrine falcon for Branden. The courtiers who had accompanied them were only here to observe, and perhaps gain some inside court gossip. Gossip was better than gold if you were the first to pass it along, and the heir to the throne was often a source of interesting stories, much to the king's chagrin. Eryk turned away from the group, letting them fade into the background, unimportant and forgotten. His eyes turned instead toward the field, and he and Branden each held out their arms for their birds, ignoring the courtiers jockeying for position behind them.

The beaters had taken their places and started moving forward slowly though the long grass. Eryk and Branden unhooded their birds and loosened the jesses, being careful to avoid the sharp talons and beaks.

Suddenly, a bird shot up out of the grass. Branden launched his falcon into the air, with Eryk's hawk just a fraction of a second behind it. Both birds struggled for altitude, needing to get up above their prey for maximum effect when they attacked. Eryk was really hoping that his hawk could get a lead, knowing that the falcon's slimmer, sleeker profile would help it make a faster decent against the pheasant that was struggling to escape the predators.

As both raptors reached heights they seemed to think were appropriate for the attack, Eryk's horse suddenly danced sideways as one of the courtier's mounts jostled it. The prince jerked on his stallion's reins, his blue eyes never leaving the birds as they wheeled in the air to angle for their descents.

The falcon arrowed down toward its prey, but the hawk veered away from the pheasant and dove straight for Eryk's head, talons outstretched.

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