The Immortal Prince Read Online Free Page A

them.”
    â€œYou buy his story then…about being immortal?”
    â€œIs that what he’s claiming?”
    â€œReckons he’s a Tide Lord,” Goran informed him. “Says that’s why the noose didn’t kill him.”
    â€œThen a short sharp blow to the head will either prove he’s right or save the executioner the trouble of another hanging, won’t it?” Warlock pointed out, trying very hard not to look surprised at the news. Not that it mattered. Given the dim light and Goran Dill’s poor ability to read Crasii expressions, it was unlikely he noticed anything amiss. “Either way, if he’s unconscious he’ll shut up and I’ll be able to sleep.”
    The suzerain cried out again, this time a tormented scream that echoed off the walls and made even the other prisoners stir in their sleep.
    Goran sighed heavily, but nodded in agreement with the need to do something. “All right then. I’ll see what I can do.”
    Taking the keys from his belt, he wedged the torch into the bracket set into the wall behind him and fiddled with the lock for a moment before throwing the door to the suzerain’s cell wide open. Through the open bars, Warlock could tell the man didn’t notice his visitor, either still asleep or too consumed by his pain to care what was happening around him. Goran Dill walked to the pallet and stared down at the writhing lump tossing and turning on the dirty straw mattress, and then, with little ado, withdrew his truncheon. One sharp blow to the temple and the man fell silent.
    Warlock breathed a sigh of relief.
    â€œMight be immortal,” Goran joked as he relocked the cell, “but he ain’t invincible.”
    â€œThank you,” Warlock said with genuine gratitude.
    â€œAll part of the service,” Goran shrugged, lifting the torch out of its bracket. “You get some sleep now, eh, dog boy. Don’t want you all snarly and growly in the morning when they give you a bath.”
    â€œA bath?” he repeated in surprise. “Why am I being made to have a bath?”
    â€œEveryone in Recidivists’ Row is gettin’ a bath, lad. And fresh clothes. Gotta scrub the cells out, too. And change the bedding.”
    â€œWhy?” he asked, unable to imagine any circumstance that would prompt such an unexpected burst of housekeeping.
    â€œYou’ve got an important visitor coming,” Goran informed him as he headed back up the hall. “At least the Tide Lord does, ’cause he’s coming to visit him. A real important man, he is. Can’t have him getting offended by all you filthy scumbags, can we?”
    â€œWho?” Warlock asked curiously. “What important man?”
    â€œDeclan Hawkes,” Goran called over his shoulder. “The King’s Spymaster his-self.”
    His announcement made, Goran headed back down the corridor, humming tunelessly, the flickering light and the smell of the corporal fading together with his shuffling footsteps, leaving Warlock alone in the blessed silence.
    So the King’s Spymaster is coming to visit the prisoners of Recidivists’ Row. Warlock sat on his pallet, scratching himself idly behind his ear, wondering what would bring someone as important as Declan Hawkes to a place like Lebec Prison.
    Then he glanced through the bars at the unconscious suzerain across the hall and thought he understood.

Chapter 3
    The arrival of the King’s Spymaster was an occasion of note at Lebec Prison although certainly not a welcome one. Although he had no authority here in Lebec—at least not officially—he was the eyes and ears of the King of Glaeba and that made him a man to be cautious of.
    Looking down over the grim prison courtyard from the window of his office, the Warden watched his visitor dismounting in the drizzling rain. He chewed on his bottom lip as he tried to fathom the meaning of this most disturbing turn of events.
    Am I