The man seemed more amused than offended by her answer. “Why not? We have plenty of money. And that is what you’re doing out here, isn’t it? Looking for financial advancement? There’s a dozen of us here, and at, say ten rivets a turn, you could make quite a tidy sum.”
Adrina flushed angrily, not certain what insulted her most – that this barbarian would dare proposition her, or that he would offer a measly ten rivets for the privilege.
“How dare you!”
“Adrina,” Tamylan hissed beside her, warningly. Mikel stirred sleepily.
“My deepest apologies, madam. Fifteen rivets, then, although for that price, you’d better be good.” The dark-haired Defender who rode at the Hythrun’s side seemed to find the exchange highly entertaining.
Adrina forced her temper down. She had to talk her way out of this. Adopting an air of extreme disdain, she looked down her nose at the Hythrun and the Defender, both of whom would have benefited considerably from a bath.
“Fifteen, or fifty rivets, it makes no difference, sir. I am a bound court’esa. I am not at liberty to accommodate you. As you can see, I wear a collar.”
“So you do,” the Hythrun said, as if noticing it for the first time. “A wolf collar, at that. Am I to understand that you are the property of House Wolfblade?”
“Naturally,” Adrina agreed, with a bad feeling it was a mistake to admit such a thing. These mercenaries worked for House Wolfblade. They might take such an admission as proof that they were entitled to her services.
“I don’t recall Lord Wolfblade bringing any court’esa to the front, do you, Captain?”
“I’m sure I would have noticed,” the Defender agreed laconically. “Perhaps we should take them to him?”
Adrina blanched at the thought. She did not want anything to do with Lernen Wolfblade’s degenerate nephew. “No thank you. We can find our own way.”
Mikel woke and wiggled around in Tamylan’s arms to stare open-mouthed at the Hythrun surrounding them. Adrina threw him a warning glance, hoping the child would have the sense to remain silent.
“But we insist,” the Hythrun said, with a dangerous smile. “Lord Wolfblade will be most anxious to see you. He’s been a long time out here in the field and these Medalonian women are all dogs.”
“My Lady...” Mikel whispered urgently. She ignored him.
“Thank you, but no. Now get away with you! I’m sure Lord Wolfblade didn’t send you out here to harass innocent people going about their business. I will be speaking to him about this, I can assure you!”
“Your Highness!” Mikel’s whisper was verging on panic-stricken.
“You know his lordship then?” the captain asked.
“Of course, you fool! Now get out of my way or Lord Wolfblade will have you whipped!” Adrina did not know if that was the case, but it seemed a fair assumption, based on what she knew of the family.
“Your Highness! That is Lord Wolfblade!” Mikel cried.
Adrina suddenly felt faint.
Her mouth went dry as Damin Wolfblade rode up beside her, so close his stirrup touched hers. He was nothing like the powdered courtier she imagined. He was big and dirty and unshaven and looked meaner than King Jasnoff’s most vicious hunting hound.
For a fleeting moment, she wished she had never left Karien.
Damin Wolfblade looked at her closely. He did not look surprised to discover her identity. She realised with despair that they had suspected all along who she was. That nonsense about ten rivets a turn was obviously his misguided idea of a joke.
“Your Highness.” He bowed with surprising grace, but it was the short bow of an equal, not a mere Warlord greeting a royal princess.
“Lord Wolfblade.” Adrina marvelled at how steady she sounded.
“Tarja, allow me to introduce Her Serene Highness, Princess Adrina of Fardohnya, or is it Her Royal Highness, Princess Adrina of Karien, these days? It’s so hard to keep track of these things.”
“Move away from me, sir,” she said in a voice that was colder than the Fourth Hell.
Wolfblade smiled. “What do you think, Tarja? Will we get more by selling her back to the Kariens or her father?”
“I’ll kill you if you touch her!” Mikel screamed.
“You!” The Defender glared at the child and Mikel cowered under his scrutiny. “Founders, how did you get here, boy? I thought we’d seen the last of you!”
“You coward! How dare you pick on a helpless child! As for you,” she added witheringly to the Warlord, “I refuse to be your hostage!”
“You refuse to be my hostage? I don’t recall asking your permission, your Highness.”
“Don’t take that tone with me, sir. I am a Fardohnyan princess of royal blood!”
“Quite a step up from a court’esa,” the Defender remarked, not in the least impressed by her declaration.
This was not going well at all. She could not afford to be a hostage. The first thing they would do was send a message to Cratyn demanding the gods alone knew what in return for her release. At that moment, Adrina did not care if the war raged on for another hundred years.
She was not going back to Karien.
“I refuse to be your hostage, my Lord, because I am seeking asylum,” she announced, the plan formulating in her mind as she spoke.
The Warlord made no effort to hide his astonishment, or his disbelief. “Asylum?”
“But, your Highness...” Mikel began with a horrified gasp.
“Be quiet, child!”
“You expect me to believe you are running away?”
“I am not running away, my Lord, I am altering the terms of the Karien-Fardohnyan Treaty. The Kariens have not kept their side of the bargain, therefore I do not feel compelled to keep mine.”
“I’d call that running away,” Tarja chuckled.
Damin Wolfblade shook his head, clearly not believing a word she said. “And what is it you want in return for asylum, your Highness?”
“Safe passage to Fardohnya in a manner befitting my station.”
“Is that all?” Tarja asked with a sceptical laugh.
“Safe passage to Fardohnya? So you can get together with your father and stir up even more trouble? I don’t think so, your Highness. Do we look that foolish?”
“You question my word, sir? How dare you! I am a princess!”
“You’re Hablet’s daughter,” he corrected. “That makes every word you utter suspect.”
She was going to have to put this man in his place, sooner rather than later. “I will not sit here and be insulted by a barbarian! I insist you take me to the Lord Defender this minute, so that I may present my case to someone with a better understanding of protocol than a savage, such as yourself!”
Damin Wolfblade laughed at her. Adrina loftily ignored him and turned to Tarja Tenragan.
“The boy is under my protection and so is my slave. They will remain with me, so that I may have some basic level of service. You will agree to consult me regarding any offer of ransom made on my behalf. And under no circumstances, will I agree to return to Karien. Is that quite clear?”
Her list of demands seemed to startle him. Wolfblade exchanged a glance with the Medalonian before turning to her. “You may keep your slave, your Highness. As for the boy, his fate will be up to Captain Tenragan.”
“And the rest of my demands?”
The Warlord laughed. “Demands? You are our prisoner, your Highness. You’re not at liberty to make demands. But I’ll promise you one thing. Give us any trouble at all, and I will see that you learn what it is to wear the collar of a bound court’esa. Is that quite clear?” He turned his horse away from her before she could frame a suitable retort. “Put the boy on his own horse. He’s old enough to ride without a nursemaid.”