Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

unremarkable features and a more than comfortably padded body. At first, Heather had seen her as just another victim for her wit, someone else to take out the day's frustrations on, but right from the beginning Emma had made a point of answering Heather in kind, and the two women quickly developed a surprisingly strong attachment for each other. As Viktor and Gawaine spent most of their time together, it was hardly surprising that Heather and Emma found themselves often in each other's company, and their early friendship had long since hardened into an unbreakable bond.
    'Tell me,' said Emma, 'have you seen Viktor's double yet? What's he like?'
    'Physically, he's so like Viktor it's frightening,' said Heather. 'He even sounds like him, most of the time.
    But I don't like him. He's an arrogant sort, like all actors; full of himself and forgetful of his proper place.
    But he'll do the job well enough. And afterwards . . .'
    She smiled grimly, and Emma chuckled. 'My dear Heather, if you followed through on every one of your dire threats, we'd have to build another cemetery. You can't kill everyone you don't like, or soon we'd have no one left to talk to.'
    Heather shook her head. 'I'm right this time, Emma, and you know it. The actor has to die. We can't risk his telling anyone about his part in our little conspiracy, can we? It's not as if he's the only one marked for death. Once Viktor is King, he can't allow anyone in a position of power to have undue influence over him. Argent is a tradesman; we can bargain with him. But Roderik . . .' Heather pursed her lips thoughtfully. 'He forgets his place too often, the nasty little man. Just because he has some Blood, he thinks he's as good as my Viktor. Sometimes he even seems to think that he's in charge of this conspiracy, and Viktor is only there to follow his orders. We can't have that, can we? No, once my Viktor is safely on the throne, there are going to be quite a few surprised faces at Court . . .'
    The two women laughed quietly together, the gentle happy sound at odds with the grim delight in their faces.
    Jordan was getting ready for bed when the dog reappeared. He'd just finished drawing back the bedclothes and laying out a tastefully embroidered nightgown, when something cold and wet nudged the back of his leg. He jumped, startled, and looked down to see the bloodhound standing at his side, waiting patiently to be noticed. It stared up at him with its perpetually mournful face, and wagged its tail.
    Jordan took his hand away from his sword, and grinned at the dog. He knelt down beside it, and the bloodhound made a determined effort to lick his whole face spotlessly clean. Jordan laughed, and half-heartedly tried to fend the dog off.
    'So you're back again, are you?' he said cheerfully. 'Where have you been hiding yourself? Under the bed?'
    The dog laid down and rolled over on its back so Jordan could rub its stomach. He did so, and wondered what to do next. He'd never had a dog of his own. He'd had his horse for several years, but the two of them had quickly established a policy of live and let live, and had rarely strayed from it. Jordan supposed he ought to feed the dog, but he wasn't entirely sure what bloodhounds ate, or where in the suite to look for food. And then he frowned, as he remembered Gawaine saying the dog definitely wasn't Viktor's. The Prince hated dogs. Having met the Prince, Jordan wasn't in the least surprised. The dog had to belong to somebody, though; it was too well groomed to be a stray. Perhaps it had just wandered into his room by mistake, and couldn't get
    out. He ought to call the guards outside his door and have them remove the dog, but it was a friendly
    animal, and Jordan felt in need of a little friendly support.
    There was a knock at the main door, and Jordan looked up sharply. He wasn't supposed to have any visitors. The guards were under strict orders to turn everyone away until morning. Jordan hesitated, and whoever was outside knocked again. It was a loud, arrogant, demanding knock. Jordan decided he'd better answer it. The caller didn't sound as though he was going to go away, and it might just be important. He looked around for the dog, to get it out of sight, and found it had disappeared again.
    Clever animal. It wouldn't do for Prince Viktor to be seen being friendly with a dog. It wouldn't be in character. Jordan walked quickly out of the bedroom and over to the main door, and pulled it open. The Regent, Count William