Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

full-length mirror, and decided unhappily that it would have to do. In his own eyes he looked guilty as hell, but at least now the evidence wasn't so clear cut. He threw the bloodstained shirt into the back of the wardrobe, and then bent down and manhandled Viktor's body in after it. He knew he should have hidden the body first and then got changed, but he wasn't thinking too clearly at the moment. He straightened up, and began to breathe a little more easily. It was only then that he noticed Viktor's eyes were still open. They seemed to Jordan to be following him.
    He wanted to reach down and close them, but some last-minute squeamishness made him reluctant to touch the body any more than he absolutely had to. He stepped back and slammed the wardrobe door shut on Viktor's staring eyes.
    He stood still and rubbed at his aching temples as a sudden wave of dizziness passed over him. Strain, that was all it was; just strain and tension. Everything had happened so quickly . . . He'd never planned to kill Viktor. The thought had never even crossed his mind. But sitting there, listening to Viktor rant and rave, Jordan had slowly discovered that he couldn't bear to think of all the good people he'd met dying bloody deaths at this madman's whim. Those people had trusted him as Viktor, and he couldn't see them betrayed in that trust.
    There were twenty'five kitchen staff. Ten were women, and seven were child apprentices.
    I had them all hanged, of course.
    All right, Viktor was dead. What was he going to do now? Run for it? He wouldn't even get out of the Castle. Jordan frowned. There was only one thing he could do - take Viktor's place for real. Be Prince Viktor. Give Castle Midnight the kind of Prince and Ruler it deserved. He'd always wanted to play the part as it should be played, and this was his chance. Of course, if his fellow conspirators ever found out what had happened . . . He decided he wasn't going to think about that. He'd just have to do such a good job that the others would never have cause to doubt that he was who he claimed to be. And he'd better come up with a damned good cover story to explain his, the actor's, sudden disappearance. They might believe he'd got scared and run off, but not that he'd leave without trying to collect his money first.
    They knew him too well for that. Jordan sighed. Right now, he wanted more than anything just to sit there
    and feel sorry for himself, but he couldn't spare the time. There was too much to be done. Somebody knocked at the main door, and Jordan's heart jumped madly. There wasn't time to come up with a cover story, or even to practise his new double role. The conspirators were back, and he was on.
    He hurried out of the bedroom and back into the main room. He spotted the ruby will lying on the floor, and pocketed it quickly. If things went wrong, and he had to leave in a hurry, at least he'd have something to show for his trouble. A quick look round, to check that everything was as it should be, and then he took up a commanding posture by the fireplace, and called for whoever it was to enter. The door swung open, and Count Roderik and Robert Argent came in, followed by Sir Gawaine and the Lady Heather. Jordan nodded brusquely to them. Gawaine closed the door and stood guard beside it, one hand resting comfortably on the head of his axe. Heather started to smile at Jordan, and then stopped, suddenly unsure exactly whom she was smiling at. The others glanced round the empty room, and stirred uneasily as they realised Jordan was on his own. He smiled coldly.
    'If you're looking for the actor, he's in the jakes. No doubt he'll be back in a minute.'
    Roderik bowed formally. 'Forgive me, Sire. Now that you're recovering from your illness, you're looking so much better it's hard to tell the two of you apart.'
    Jordan snorted. 'I wasn't ill, I was being poisoned. And the day you can't tell the difference between a Prince of the Blood and a strolling player will be the day I find myself some new advisors. I never thought he sounded much like me anyway.'
    'Now, darling.' ~id Heather soothingly, 'don't be so touchy. Come and sit down here, with me.'
    Jordan nodded grudgingly, and allowed Heather to sit him down in the most comfortable chair and fuss over him. As before she ended up sitting on the arm of his chair, and Jordan slipped his arm round her waist, as he'd seen Viktor do. 'Well then,' he said finally, 'let us discuss Dad's will. Oh do sit down, all of you. You make