Shadow War - Deborah Chester [22]
“I don’t understand.”
Orlo’s gaze never wavered. “I think you do. You threw yourself on the Madrun’s sword as though it was nothing. Stupid or courageous, who can say? But why can’t you throw yourself on the truth?”
Caelan’s temper slipped. “Speak your mind, Orlo. Not these riddles.”
“He won’t free you.”
It was like having the sword pierce his side all over again. Caelan lost his breath and struggled to regain it.
“You are wrong,” he said, his voice weak against the intensity of his emotions. His fist clenched on the coverlet. “Wrong.”
“I have made my share of mistakes,” Orlo said, “enough to know that it is stupid to walk about in blindness. His highness will never free you as long as you are valuable to him. No matter how many times you guard his back when he goes where he should not. You have served him with all your heart and soul. Yesterday you nearly got yourself killed for him, and none of it will avail you.”
“I will be free again,” Caelan said grimly, staring into space. “I have his word.”
Orlo snorted, his square face branded with cynicism. “Oh? You have the word of our kind, honest master. Soon enough there will be betrayal to balance the honey. I have warned you enough, but you never heed warnings, do you?”
Caelan glared at the trainer, hating everything he said. “Careful, Orlo. You’re stepping close to treason.”
“No,” Orlo said. “He is.”
Caelan surged to his feet.
Orlo took two quick steps back, balancing on the balls of his feet, his eyes watchful and wary. “Defend him,” he said in what was almost a taunt. “You always do.”
“It is my duty to defend him,” Caelan said hotly.
“Why? Do you have hopes of becoming his protector when he takes the throne?”
The accusation hit Caelan like a glove of challenge. Caelan’s eyes widened. How much did Orlo know? How much had he overheard? Or was this only speculation?
He was not quick enough to keep his reaction from his face. It was Orlo’s turn to stare with widened eyes.
“Great Gault,” he breathed, taking yet another step back from Caelan. “So he has promised you that.”
Caelan felt stripped and vulnerable. To deny it would be useless, yet he could not confirm it either without condemning himself. He said nothing.
Orlo frowned and slowly shook his head. “You great fool,” he said at last, pity in his voice. “Can’t you see he is—”
“He does not use me,” Caelan broke in hotly. “You understand nothing of this matter. Nothing!”
“No wonder you pulled the Madrun’s sword into your side. With that incentive, what man would not take tremendous risks?” Orlo glanced sharply at Caelan. “But can’t you see that he is jealous of you?”
Caelan’s mouth fell open in astonishment. “Jealous!”
“Whose name were they screaming yesterday?”
“But he is the prince.”
“And you have the popularity,” Orlo said with scorn. Glancing at the door, he kept his voice low. “When you ride through the streets at the prince’s side, cheers from the populace are guaranteed. He can pretend the cheers are for him. It sends a message to the emperor, does it not? But inside, the prince knows the truth. His popularity is purchased, and at the crux it will not hold.”
“Take care, Orlo,” Caelan said in warning.
“No, you take care. Prince Tirhin is a desperate man, and I tell you to watch yourself. When you cease to be of use, he will discard you as he does all his worn-out possessions.”
Caelan’s chin lifted with dignity. “I have his word.”
Without warning Orlo closed the distance between them and gripped Caelan’s shoulder hard. “And what is the worth of a promise made to a slave?” he snarled. “Nothing! Nothing at all.” He gave Caelan a shake and released him. “He doesn’t see you as a man. You belong to him as his dog belongs to him. As that chair over there belongs to him. He owes you nothing, do you hear? No matter what you do for him, there is no obligation from him in return.”
Caelan sighed and stopped listening.