Rebel's Honor(31)

"So, to repay me, you choose to defy me at every turn? This is ingratitude on a grand scale."

"No, it's me trying to have power and live with my conscience. I still  have one, Father. It speaks to me occasionally. Does yours still chatter  away to you?"

His father's scornful expression was all the answer Axel needed.

"The day I become like you, please kill me."

"You are your own worst enemy, Axel. Too often, you allow your heart to rule when your head should be in control."

Axel had heard enough about his weakness and failings. "Treven. I lay  the blame squarely at your feet that we are nowhere near conquering the  ice crystal mines. Take a bow that we are still up to our arses in mud  and toxic gas while Chad laughs at us."

"Don't you dare blame me for that mess," his father hissed. "I'm not  Lord of the Conquest. Treven is Raklus's problem." Despite the heat, his  father clawed an olive-green cape tighter around his frail shoulders.  "Anyway, how is this relevant to you interfering with Saskia's duties  yesterday or flirting with Lynx today?"

"It's been an interesting week." Axel leaned against the wall, staring straight past his father.

"Look at me!" A bony hand gripped Axel's chin, but his father wasn't  strong enough to turn his head. His father dropped his fist. "If you  care so deeply about the lives of our low-born, I suggest you spare a  thought for Mother Saskia. Mott's deporting her to the prison camps for  letting Lynx appear at court in that outrageous dress."

The news knifed Axel with guilt. Few people survived internment in a  prison camp. Conscious of the double standard, he suppressed it.

Nothing could derail Operation Treven.

He turned lazily to face his father. "Mott's agenda with Lynx . . . I  understand he's looking for a grandson, and last night, he let Lynx get  away with that sexy little dress. He didn't seem to mind her hot red  number today, either. You've got to wonder about it all."

"All emperors want grandsons to ensure depth in the succession." His father's eyes fixed warily on him.

"Pff!" Axel snorted. "You are full of jokes today. We both know emperors  have such a healthy fear of the Dmitri Curse, they'd avoid procreation  like the curse it is if they could get away with it. Just a shame Norin  princesses are always so ravishing. I swear their pretty faces are the  only thing that gives that treaty any teeth." He paused, flashing a  grin. "They must be pretty amazing in bed, too, if every emperor has  risked keeping them alive, however temporarily, after the wedding."

"Dragon's arse, Axel!" Eyes wide, his father fumbled for his chair and  then sank down into it. "The Dmitri Curse! How dare you speak of that  heresy?"

"Oh, so you don't want me talking about Dmitri?" Axel sat and even  managed to get his feet back on the desk without his father seeming to  notice.

"Axel, hold your tongue!"

"Then I suggest you give me something else to do to take my mind off  that pesky curse." Axel's voice hardened. "Like agreeing to my posting  to Treven."

"So that is what this is about? No. And get your feet off my table."

Axel ignored the command. "In that case, you leave me no choice but to  amuse myself with Lynx. Someone has to, if Lukan insists on doing a  disappearing act."

His father stood and darted around the desk. He grabbed both of Axel's  arms and tried to shake him. When that didn't work, his father snarled,  "Are you blackmailing me?"

"Yes. And I won't stop until I win."

"So Lynx-"

"Lynx is merely a weapon in my arsenal. I'll do whatever it takes with  her until you let me go and rescue the situation in Treven." Not  entirely true-in the short time he'd known her, Lynx had come to mean  far more than that to him.

Face pressed to Axel's, his father said, "I will not be blackmailed into  sending you to certain death. I know you. You'll take risks, putting  yourself in harm's way for your men." He settled back in his chair.  "Axel, you want power. I can give it to you. I intend to put you on the  throne before I die."

Axel closed his eyes and sighed. He'd heard this rant before. His father  had been speaking about seizing the throne for years. Unfortunately for  his father and thanks to his poor health, Mott-with the support of the  Fifteen-had removed him from the line of succession and decreed that  Axel would be next in line after Mott and his heirs. His father had  never forgiven Mott.                       
       
           



       

Still, it was very plain to Axel that, were he ever to be crowned  emperor, his father would want to pull the strings. Given his propensity  to kill first and ask questions later, that was unacceptable.

"Father, you don't understand. I don't need your help to win the throne.  Just send me to Treven, and I'll take care of the rest."

"No, Axel. You don't understand." His father paused, his lips twitching,  a sign Axel recognized as indecision. Finally, he leaned in so close  Axel could feel his breath on his face. "Mott is restless." He touched  his head. "It's the voices, I think. They're troubling him."

Axel sucked in a quick breath. His mention of Dmitri had certainly  plunged their conversation into unknown territory. Still, he knew his  father had insight into Mott's inner workings that no one else in the  palace did, thanks to a microphone hidden in Mott's bedchamber. It  seemed the sleeping emperor was positively verbose, often mumbling about  conversations with Thurban.

"What's Thurban telling him?"

Axel didn't expect an answer, but after a moment's hesitation, his  father said, "He's been rambling on about claims that Lukan plans to  kill him. That Lukan is the crown prince prophesied about who will  destroy his father and the empire."

Axel's face scrunched up with skepticism. "Lukan? Come on, Father. No  one will believe that. Lukan doesn't have the backbone. And even if he  did, Mott would never let it happen."

"Don't be so sure of yourself." Cloak clutched around his shoulders, his  father said, "Axel, this is one fight you do not want. Mott is not the  only one with an agenda." He walked to the door, slid it open, and  gestured for Axel to leave. "Forget about Treven, and keep your hands  off that Norin bitch."

Any other time, Axel would have objected to the eviction-but not today. A  hunt had been planned to celebrate Lynx and Lukan's betrothal.

If Axel raced, he could probably catch her at the stables.





Chapter 21





The mild autumn sun was high in the sky when Lynx and Kestrel were  escorted to the stables. Compared to the thorn-ringed corral where the  Norin safeguarded their horses, the home of the Chenayan mounts was  positively palatial. Built from hewn stone, each stable was bigger than a  Norin family tent. Seeing the magnificent horses, nothing like the  hardy nags she rode, Lynx guessed the spoiled steeds thrived on the  care. At least it was a sign that the Chenayans valued something.

Then a thought struck.

How was she supposed to ride in a dress? Especially a bright red silk  one? Lynx shook her head in wonder. If she'd been wearing her leathers .  . . She sighed. Those belonged to another time, another world.

Her escort led her and Kestrel to a crowd of high-born gathered in a  central courtyard in the middle of the stable precinct. The men were  armed with crossbows, but the women were weaponless. It seemed hunting  was a male pursuit in Chenaya, with women mere spectators. Yet another  profound difference between their two cultures.

Lynx quickly scanned the crowd, and her heart sank.

Lukan wasn't amongst them. Neither was Axel.

Tao broke away from the group to meet her and Kestrel. On his gauntleted  wrist, he carried a falcon. He pulled the leather hood off its head.  "Kestrel and Lynx, meet Bird."

The falcon turned cruel black eyes, rimmed with yellow, on Lynx.

She smiled to cover her worry and disappointment at Lukan-and Axel's-absence. "‘Bird'? That's its name?"

Hunting with birds was not common in Norin, so Lynx knew little about the sport.

"Not exactly original," Kestrel added, standing well back from Bird's  sharp beak. "I don't like my name much, but least I was named after a  specific species of falcon."

"I like your name." Tao smiled at Kestrel. When she didn't react to his  compliment, he added, "And as for Bird, only pets have names." Bird  lifted her tail, leaning into his hand as he caressed her creamy throat.  "She hunts with me, but I don't own her. And that's the way I like it."  He looked at Kestrel, still smiling.

Lynx nodded her approval that Tao hadn't given up trying to woo her  sister, even if his mild flirting last evening-which she was convinced  had been designed to make Kestrel jealous-had caused trouble between her  and Kestrel.