Gregory awoke tied down on a wooden surface, unable to move. Waves of agony rippled through his body, and it felt as though someone had jammed a hot poker into his stomach. His memory started flooding back, and he realized how close to the truth that was.
Leather wraps bound his wrists and ankles, and he could feel the floor shifting and creaking beneath him. No, he realized, not a floor at all: he was on the bed of one of the wagons in the caravan, tied down. He tested the wraps, ignoring the pain, and found them to be secure.
“I wouldn’t try to escape,” a voice said.
He looked past his feet and saw the captain seated behind him on the hardwood flooring. Gregory also noticed that his stomach was wrapped in a thick white cloth.
Little splotches of red dotted the fabric, and he wondered how much blood he had lost. At least he wasn’t dead.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, laying his head back with a sigh. “Where am I?”
“Tied to a wagon.”
“I know that much. I meant to say: where are we going?”
“Mulrich.”
“Ah,” he said. “I suppose I got what I wanted: a free trip to the Capital.”
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”
“Of course not,” he said. “I am tied down, after all.”
“Who hired you?”
Gregory couldn’t contain a groan.
“Should I lie this time? The truth got me stabbed.”
“Humor me. How did you know Bryce would be here?”
“Bryce?”
The name sounded vaguely familiar to Gregory, and he spent a moment wracking his brain for a connection.
Then it hit him. Gregory grimaced.
“Bryce Hunner. Are you kidding me? And just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse.”
“He was in disguise, and you approached him directly.”
“I thought he looked important.”
“He is. Addressing him was foolish.”
“I know that now,” Gregory said. “But at the time it seemed like a good plan.”
“If it was only an honest mistake,” the captain said, “then you have my sympathy. And my pity.”
“Lot of good that does me.”
“No,” the captain said. “I suppose it doesn’t.”
“I thought he was just a paranoid merchant hiding in a disguise. Why would the Prince of Comer travel discreetly?”
“To avoid the prying eyes of assassins,” the captain replied.
“But not the eyes of innocent bystanders?”
“He has been on the road in that disguise for four months, and you were the first to approach him.”
“Just lucky, I guess. Did you ever consider that maybe I didn’t know who he was?”
A long pause. “I knew you weren’t an assassin when I was interrogating you.”
“You mean when you were beating me…?”
The captain ignored him. “Or, at the very least, you were a terrible one. You passed out with little provocation.”
“You stabbed me!”
The captain waved his hand in dismissal. “Barely a scratch.”
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but all I was looking for was passage to Mulrich with a well-protected caravan.”
The captain eyed him for a long moment and then sighed. “I believe you.”
“Good.”
“I had hoped you were a criminal, or at least a vagabond. It would make what is going to happen to you now a lot easier.”
There was a stab of icy fear in Gregory’s stomach. “Should I ask?”
“You will be executed.”
“I’m innocent,” Gregory said, tensing up. “You know I’m innocent, and yet plan to kill me, anyway?”
“You are leverage. The prince was an idiot to make this journey in person. I told him that, and he refused to believe me. The world is a dangerous place for someone as important as Bryce. When you are executed as his attempted assassin, he will see that.”
Silence held, and Gregory felt weak. He couldn’t tell if it was the injury to his stomach or the sickening realization of his predicament, but he felt himself losing consciousness. They must have given him drugs to soothe his wounds.
