One of the barrow wheels started to squeal again. Although Avner doubted anyone was awake at this late hour, he turned the cart down a side passage, then grabbed his oil flask and kneeled down to lubricate the axle. It wouldn’t do to have someone hear him-not with a biotite folio in his cart, and especially not on the second floor of the keep, where Arlien and several more of the earl’s uninvited guests were lodged.
To Avner’s grave disappointment, the barrow was working out poorly. The cart had been relatively quiet on the way up to Basil’s chamber, but he had been unable to keep the wheels from clunking on the steps as he had descended. It had developed the annoying habit of squealing at the most dangerous points of his journey. Still, the boy did not know what else to do. The folios were so heavy that last night he had been forced to drag the first volume up the stairs in his cloak, a procedure that had resulted in loud and unpredictable bangs. Nor could he ask Basil for magical help. The runecaster had already put off drawing the stink rune until after the third delivery. The youth did not want to give the sly verbeeg an excuse to delay longer.
Having slopped a liberal amount of oil on the axle, Avner put the flask away and started to back into the main corridor. A shrill squeal echoed off the stone walls. The youth cringed, then set the cart down and reached for the oil flask again.
The squeal continued, only this time it sounded more like a woman’s chortle. Avner continued to listen, for the way the chuckle erupted from deep in her throat seemed all too familiar. It took the youth only a moment longer to be certain that it was the queen’s voice. He stepped around his cart and went to Arlien’s door.
Inside the chamber, Brianna stifled her laughter long enough to say, “Fill it again, dear Prince.”
“Again?” Avner cried. He threw the door open.
Brianna sat on the bed in rather immodest nightclothes, with one hand looped through the crook of Arlien’s arm. Her low-plunging collar framed a necklace of gleaming blue jewels that could be only the ice diamonds Tavis had described to Avner. In her free hand the queen grasped a large mug, which the prince was filling from an earthenware flask.
Arlien’s only concession to the hour was that he had taken the cloak off his enchanted armor, revealing a smooth slit where the breastplate had been jaggedly ripped the day before. Even the prince’s terrible wound looked better, with the edges closed to form a long red scar.
Brianna squinted into the doorway, then suddenly jumped up. “Avner? What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to ask you the same thing, Majesty.” Avner stepped forward and found goosebumps rising on his arms. The chamber was freezing. “Is this the way you repay Tavis’s devotion?”
“My relationship with T-Ta-” Brianna stopped, her eyes growing vapid. “My relationship with my bodyguard is not your affair!”
Avner’s mouth fell open. “You can’t say his name!” The youth cast an accusing look at Arlien. “What have you done to the queen?”
The prince slipped off his bed, smiling patiently. “Done to her? I have no idea what you mean, I’m sure.” He took Brianna’s arm and looked up into her eyes. “Tavis is only a word. I’m sure the queen could say it if she wished.”
“Of course,” Brianna replied.
Arlien looked back to Avner, his smile growing less generous. “Now run along to bed, boy, and leave us to discuss the business of our kingdoms.”
“I doubt the business you’re discussing has anything to do with your kingdoms.” Avner stepped forward to glare into Arlien’s eyes. As he brushed past Brianna, he noticed that the air seemed to grow even colder. “I know what’s going on here.”
“Do you?” The prince seemed amused. “Pray tell.”
“You’re taking advantage of Tavis’s absence to-”
“Avner!” Brianna interrupted. “I will not put up with this!”
Arlien raised a hand. “Let him continue, please.”
Avner was more than happy to oblige. “Why aren’t you out trying to get help, Prince? You’re well enough.” The youth jabbed his fingers into the rent in Arlien’s armor, said the prince did not even grunt “You see? But you’d rather stay here to discuss your ‘business’ than do something brave, like Tavis!”
Arlien’s eyes narrowed. “Let me tell you two things, boy,” he hissed. “First, if you ever touch my person again, I shall be forced to break your arm. Second, I volunteered to help Tavis however I could, and he asked me to protect Queen Brianna.”
“He didn’t ask you to seduce her.”
Arlien’s lips grew white. Avner was tempted to jab the prince’s wound again to see if the man had the courage to make good on his threat, but the youth decided he might have need of his arm in the near future.
At last, Arlien regained the power to speak. “Young man, you must have a low opinion of your queen if you think she could be seduced so easily,” he said. “She merely came down to look after my wound, and I offered her a warm drink. Now, I am done explaining myself. You may leave.”
Avner looked to Brianna. “Are you coming?”
“It’s hardly the place of young pages to order their queens about,” Arlien growled.
“It is when they’re under an enchantment!”
Avner grabbed the ice diamonds hanging from Brianna’s throat. A cold, stinging pain shot through his hand, and his arm went numb clear to the elbow. The youth cried out, barely managing to open his stiff fingers and pull his arm back. His hand had gone white with frostbite.
“Avner!” Brianna clutched her chest where his hand had brushed her breast. “What in Hiatea’s name are doing?”
“The necklace.” Avner had to speak through clenched teeth. “It’s enchanted.”
“As a matter of fact, it is,” Arlien said. “It will freeze the hand of any thief who touches it And I can’t abide thieves!”
The prince shoved Avner out the door with such force that the youth bounced off the far wall of the corridor. Arlien followed close behind and caught the boy on the rebound, then turned to push him toward his own room.
Avner’s barrow stood at the end of the corridor, clearly silhouetted against the flickering torchlight in the main hall. Prince Arlien released his grip and marched over to the cart
“Avner, is this yours?” the prince demanded. He reached into the barrow and tipped the folio up. “And what’s this inside? One of Earl Cuthbert’s folios?”
Brianna stepped into the hall. “Avner!”
“It’s not for me,” he began. “I’m just borrowing it for-”
“What you were doing is plain enough!” Arlien snapped.
Brianna locked her arms stiffly at her sides, as if restraining the urge to strike the youth. “You betrayed my trust!” she spat “You’re as bad as Basil!”
“But-”
“Be quiet!” the queen snapped. “You just stand there while I figure out what to do with you.”
“If I may, I have a suggestion,” said Prince Arlien.
“Please tell me,” Brianna said. “I’m too angry to think.”
“Return the folio to the library before its absence is noticed,” suggested the prince. “Basil has already embarrassed you quite enough with the earl, and Cuthbert’s just the type to seize this as an excuse to turn us out”
“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating?” Brianna asked.
The prince shrugged. “Perhaps, but why take the chance?” he asked. “Even if I’m wrong, admitting that there’s a second thief in your party will only lead to more distrust and resentment on Cuthbert’s part. Wouldn’t it be better to take care of this problem ourselves, and limit our arguments with the earl to matters of strategy?”
Brianna considered this for a moment, then nodded. “You do have a point.” She turned to Avner. “Do as the good prince suggests, and put that folio back exactly where you found it.”
Arlien scowled as she issued the command. “The boy can’t be trusted,” he said. “I was thinking we would return the book ourselves.”