Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

On a bad day it was all she could do to break into a canter. But she pulled the heavy caravan for hours on end without complaint, once he got her moving, and she accepted resignedly the occasional hungry days that were a part of every strolling player's life. Though having Smokey around meant he could keep the strolling part to a minimum. He reached into his pocket and brought out the half carrot he'd saved from his last meal. Smokey picked it daintily off his palm and crunched it up while staring vacantly into the distance. Ungrateful animal, thought Jordan, but smiled anyway. He and Smokey were used to each other's little ways. He made to harness her up to the caravan, but Gawaine stopped him with a raised hand.
    'You needn't bother with the caravan. You won't be needing it.'
    'What do you mean, I won't need it? How else am I supposed to carry all my stuff? There's my stage, the costumes, the props . . .'
    'We'll supply everything you need to be Prince Viktor. All this gets left here. No arguments, Jordan. We know what we're
    doing. You can't afford to be found with anything that might give away who you really are.'
    Jordan scowled unhappily. 'What about Smokey? I won't leave her behind. She's a good horse, in her way.'
    Gawaine looked at the horse, sniffed, and then looked away again. 'We can always say your usual mount went lame. Now then, if you look in the back of your caravan, you'll find a parcel containing a set of Prince Viktor's clothes. Get changed, and don't take too long about it. I want to put a few miles between us and this town while there's still some light left.'
    Jordan looked at him for a long moment. 'You put these clothes in my caravan before you'd even talked to me? You must have been pretty damned confident I'd agree to this.'
    'Roderik wanted you,' said Gawaine. 'And he usually gets what he wants.'
    Jordan had several quick answers to that one, but decided it might be politic to keep them to himself for the time being. He started to unlace the backflaps of his caravan, and glanced irritably at Gawaine. 'You don't need to hang around, you know. I'm quite capable of getting dressed on my own.'
    'Think of me as your bodyguard,' said Gawaine. 'Anyone who wants to kill you has to get past me first.'
    'A grey-haired bodyguard,' said Jordan. 'Just what I always wanted. You're not fooling anyone, Gawaine. You're just here to make sure I don't change my mind and run out on you. Right?'
    'Of course,' said Gawaine calmly. 'We can't have you running round the countryside wearing Prince Viktor's face, can we? That could prove very unfortunate.'
    'Yeah. Your little conspiracy would sink without trace, wouldn't it?'
    Gawaine grinned, and shook his head. 'I was thinking more of how unfortunate it would be for you, Jordan. Because if you were dumb enough to run out on us, I'd track you down and kill you. Don't let the grey hair fool you, lad. I may not be as fast as I once was, but I'm twice as mean when I'm annoyed. And don't make the mistake of thinking you're irreplaceable. We can always find another actor, if we have to.'
    'Not like me,' said Jordan flatly. 'I'm the best.'
    Gawaine glanced briefly at the small shabby caravan, with its peeling paint and mismatched wheels. 'Sure you are, Jordan. You've just come down in the world, like me. Now hurry up and get changed, and forget any ideas about running. I've sworn to protect Viktor from any and all dangers, and that includes small-time actors with delusions of grandeur.'
    Jordan's hand dropped to the sword at his side, but before his fingers could even touch the hilt, Gawaine had drawn his axe and stepped forward to set its edge against the actor's throat. Jordan started to back away, and the axe followed him. Its edge cut a little deeper, and Jordan stood very still and fought down an urge to swallow. He breathed very shallowly, and felt a thin trickle of blood run down his throat.
    'Understand me, actor,' said Gawaine softly. 'I swore an oath upon my life and upon my honour to protect Prince Viktor. I stood at his side when his father banished him, and I followed him into internal exile for four long years. If I even think you're going to be a problem, I'll cut you into pieces. Remember that, actor.'
    He stepped back a pace, lowered his axe, and sheathed it at his side again. Jordan put a hand unsteadily to his throat, and his fingers came away bloody. His hackles rose, and a cold breeze caressed the back of his neck. His legs were shaking slightly, as