Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

and Argent paused just long enough for Heather to pull Viktor's cowl forward so that it hid his face, and then they hustled the Prince out into the corridor. Heather hurried after them, swearing continuously under her breath. The guards pulled the door shut again, and Jordan was left alone in the room with Sir Gawaine. He held out his empty glass, and Gawaine poured him some more brandy. Jordan indicated for him to keep pouring, and didn't take his glass back till it was full to the brim.
    'Have one yourself,' he said hoarsely. 'How's Viktor?'
    'He'll recover,' said Gawaine, pouring himself a small measure of brandy, and savouring the bouquet approvingly. 'You're looking better, Sire.'
    'I've felt worse. I take it no one expected this strong a reaction to the spell.'
    'Right.' Gawaine frowned. 'Sometimes I think Roderik doesn't know half as much about sorcery as he claims. If I'd known the spell would be this dangerous to the Prince, I'd never have allowed him to use it.
    Still, it's done now. Did you learn anything useful?'
    'Yes,' said Jordan. 'I learnt a few things.'
    Gawaine waited a moment, until it became clear the actor wasn't going to say any more. He looked thoughtfully at Jordan, and then emptied his glass and placed it carefully on a nearby table. 'Seeing as you're well on the road to recovery, Sire, I'd better go and see how Viktor's doing. If I were you, I'd get some sleep. Tomorrow is liable to be a very busy day. You'll be quite safe here. This suite is protected by strong magical wards, and the two guards outside will keep anyone from disturbing your rest.'
    'Before you go,' said Jordan, 'perhaps you'd answer a question for me.'
    'If I can, Sire.'
    'Why hasn't Roderik put a geas on me, like he did DeGrange? That way he could be sure of controlling me.'
    The knight smiled thinly. 'I'm sure the idea occurred to him, Sire, but a geas would have been far too conspicuous. Any number of people here would have recognised it for what it was. Is there anything else, Sire, before I go?'
    'Yeah,' said Jordan. 'What about the dog?'
    Gawaine looked at him blankly. 'What dog, Sire?'
    'Viktor's dog,' said Jordan irritably. 'The one he keeps in his bedroom. What am I supposed to feed it on?'
    'I think you must be mistaken,' said Gawaine slowly. 'Viktor doesn't have a dog. He can't stand the creatures.'
    'Look for yourself,' said Jordan. 'It's right there in the bedroom.'
    Gawaine walked over to the bedroom door and pushed it open. He looked inside and then pulled the door shut again. 'There's no dog there now, your highness. Perhaps a stray got in here somehow. There are enough of them around the Castle. They help keep the rats down. I shouldn't worry about it.
    Goodnight, your highness. Pleasant dreams.'
    He bowed formally, and left. One of the guards pulled the door firmly shut behind him. Jordan looked puzzledly at the closed bedroom door, and then got up and walked slowly over to it. He was proud to note that his legs were only slightly unsteady. He put his brandy glass down on a garishly ugly little table, and pushed open the bedroom door. The room was empty. Jordan shrugged, and wandered into the bedroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and ran his hand caressingly over the luxurious eiderdown. It had been a long hard day, and he had enough things to worry about without brooding over some vanished dog. He pulled off his boots, and wriggled his grateful toes'. The bed felt wonderfully soft and comfortable.
    If nothing else, at least while he was at the Castle he should be able to get a good night's sleep.
    Prince Lewis stood outside his brother Dominic's door and knocked politely. He waited impatiently for a reply, and tugged
    surreptitiously at the chain-mail vest hidden under his jerkin. His guards had sealed off the corridor at both ends, but he still felt uneasy. Ironheart stood motionless in the middle of the corridor, his armour gleaming dully in the torchlight. If anyone did get past the guards, they'd still have to face him. And there was always the Monk. He stood silently at Lewis's side, a grey baleful presence that was still somehow comforting. If you had to enter the lion's den, the best protection was to take something in with you that was even more dangerous than the lion. Lewis shuffled his feet restlessly, and wondered whether to knock again in case they hadn't heard him. Though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, Lewis was dying to see what Dominic's new quarters were like. No one except