Page 47 of A War Apart

“Yes, your highness.” The servant released the horse’s leg and took its lead rope.

The prince turned to us. “Forgive me for not greeting you inside. My stallion broke his leg this morning. A stablehand’s foolish mistake, but my fault for allowing an untested boy to handle the creature. If I hadn’t treated the injury immediately, the horse might have been permanently lamed.”

He’d used his magic to heal a broken bone? Was there anything the Sanctioned couldn’t do?

Even more pressing: what could possibly be done against them, if we had to face that power in battle?

The prince bowed his head. “Bless me, Brothers.”

One of the Blood Brothers raised his hand in blessing. “May the wisdom of the Witness, the shrewdness of the Steward, and the courage of the Prophet be with you, Radomir, prince of the Blood.”

He touched his forehead in reverence, then clapped his hands together. “What brings Otets’ servants to my home?”

I stepped forward and bowed, heart in my throat. “Your highness, my name is Han Antonovich, and I am here at the request of your cousin, the rightful tsar. He asked me to give you this.”

He took the ring I held and turned it over in his hands. “Borislav.” He looked back at me, then to the Blood Brothers at my side. “Follow me.”

He led us into the house and up a set of stairs. My blood thundered in my ears. When we stopped in a warm study, the prince took a seat behind the large desk and fixed small, suspicious eyes on me.

“You come bearing a token of Borislav Vyacheslavovich, a proclaimed traitor. By all rights, I should have you arrested for this. You have one minute to convince me otherwise."

I took a deep breath. If I spoke wrong here, it could mean the end of the entire rebellion. “Miroslav has long since forfeited his right to rule Inzhria, your highness. I think you know this.” He didn’t even blink. His gaze revealed nothing. “Borislav is the rightful Heir of the Sanctioned. He has the support of the people and of Otets himself.” I gestured to the Blood Brothers, Otets’ representatives. “He wishes to speak to you. Please, grant him safe passage to come here, to plead his case for himself. Once you hear what he has to say, I’m sure you will understand.”

I held my breath, watching him. The prince sat back in his chair, fidgeting with the ring. For a long moment, he was silent. Then he nodded. “I will receive him.”

“Thank you, your highness.” I bowed. “These Brothers can bear witness to your vow for his safety and freedom, and then they will bring the tsar to you.”

Prince Radomir scowled. “My word is not enough?”

One of the Brothers took a step forward. “The Heir’s safety is too important to accept anything less than a vow on the Blood itself. It is not a mark on your honor, but rather an indication of the high value we place on the life of Borislav Vyacheslavovich.”

The prince’s lips pinched together, but he placed his hand over his heart. “I swear on the Blood of Otets, which runs through my veins, not to harm my cousin Borislav nor to turn him overto those who would harm him, so long as he is in my lands.” He looked at me. “Are you satisfied, sir?”

I nodded, some of the tension in my chest easing. “Thank you, your highness.” We would survive the day, so long as Borislav was right to believe the prince wouldn’t forswear himself.

The two Brothers left, and the prince waved toward a chair opposite him at the desk. “Have a seat. Han, was it?” He squinted his eyes in suspicion. “That’s not an Inzhrian name.”

“No, it’s not.” I fought to remain still beneath the weight of his gaze. “My mother had a taste for the exotic, your highness. She named me after a famous Vasland warrior.”

“I see.” He rang a bell, and a few moments later a servant arrived. “Han Antonovich will be joining me for dinner, as will…” His gaze flicked to me. “Another guest.”

“Yes, your highness.”

The prince turned to the pile of paperwork on his desk as the servant left. Minutes ticked by, the only sound the low crackle of the fire in the grate. The glove I wore on the end of my right arm grew uncomfortable, and I tugged at the strap. Why was it so tight today? Another tug, and the glove fell onto the floor with a thud.

My heart skipped a beat, and I looked up to see the prince watching me. Comprehension dawned on his face. “Ah. You’re a survivor of Barbezht.”

“I am, your highness.” I realized, belatedly, that his vow had made no mention of my own safety and freedom.

“I see why my cousin trusts you. You’ve already given up much for him.” Seeing the cautious look on my face, he waved a hand. “Naturally, my vow extends to you as well. Safety for my cousin applies to his men. I would not break an oath to Otets on a mere technicality.”

The tightness in my chest eased considerably. “Thank you, your highness.”

The time dragged on. Finally, I heard footsteps in the hall, and a servant entered. “Your remaining guest has arrived, Prince Radomir. He awaits you in the dining hall.”

As we entered the room, Borislav rose to meet his cousin. “Radomir. It’s been too long.”

“Would that I could say the same, cousin, but the last time we saw each other was on opposite sides of a battlefield. I can’t pretend I’m glad to see you.” He took a seat at the head of the long table and gestured for us to sit as well.

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