The False Prince (The Ascendance Trilogy #1)(25)

I gritted my teeth and reminded myself that in all fairness, I probably had smelled pretty bad before.

“I’ll have to pay for that horse, the master says,” Cregan continued. “Paying it off will take so many years of service, I can’t count them. But I won’t be his servant much longer. I have plans of my own.”

He wanted me to ask what his plans were so he would have the satisfaction of telling me it was none of my business. I didn’t care an inch about his plans. So I stared at him steadily, which infuriated him further.

“From now on, any horse you ride will be tethered to mine. And you will get the calmest, least excitable horse in the stables. You won’t be able to get it to do anything I don’t want it to do.”

“Wait!” Tobias said. “If he gets the easiest horse, then it will appear to Conner that he’s the best rider.”

I smiled at Tobias, whose eyes narrowed.

“That was your plan all along,” Roden whispered.

“I don’t have Tobias’s brains or your strength,” I said to them. “Give me this one area to compete with you two.”

Cregan stared at us for a moment, clearly trying to decide whether to give me the easiest horse or not. He didn’t want to help me, nor did he want to risk getting himself in trouble again with a horse out of my league.

“I’m not even best with horses,” he said. “I’m a swordsman, but Mott ordered me here so he could teach swords.”

“Teach us both,” Roden said. “I’ll learn.”

Tobias rolled his eyes. “So far, you’ve taught us neither horses nor swords. Our lesson time is passing fast, sir.”

“The devils are punishing me for everything I’ve ever done wrong in my life,” he said, marching to the stables to get the horses. “They’ve sent me you three.”

In the end, we all had easy horses, and our ride on Conner’s grounds was so boring I thought I’d go insane. I wasn’t the only one.

“You have to teach us more than riding like schoolgirls on a Sabbath afternoon,” Tobias said. “The prince will be expected to show off masterful riding skills.”

“Thank Sage for this lesson,” Cregan said. “I can’t risk any of you getting hurt like yesterday.”

On either side of me, Roden and Tobias shot out glares again. “I think you planned this,” Roden said to me. “I think you deliberately spoiled it for all of us so that now Tobias and I won’t have the chance to get any better.”

I chuckled softly. That idea had never occurred to me, although if it were true, it would’ve been clever.

After a wasted hour on horseback, Mott collected us for a sword-fighting lesson. “Because Sage went missing yesterday, we’ll have to make up that lesson now,” he said, leading us toward the small courtyard where he and I had practiced two nights earlier. He gestured to the wall where the various swords were hung. “By the end of these two weeks, we’ll have you dueling with these swords, but for now you get wooden ones.”

I folded my arms. “Where’s the prince’s sword?”

Mott turned to look. Sure enough, Jaron’s sword was missing.

“The prince’s sword was here?” Tobias asked.

“Just a copy of it,” I said. Mott glared at me as if personally insulted by my words, but he shouldn’t have. I had been perfectly accurate.

“How did you know about the sword?” Roden asked me.

“Mott and I practiced here the other night.”

Roden and Tobias reacted with open mouths and narrowed eyes, exactly as I knew they would. But they didn’t have much time to protest.

“Conner will want to know of this,” Mott said, ignoring their whines. “Follow me.”

We found Conner in his office, poring over a thick and dusty book. Mott spoke to him privately for a moment, then had us all come into the room and stand in front of Conner’s desk.

Conner’s office was lined with shelves full of books and the occasional bust or trinket. Near the back of the room, he had a massive desk that faced the door and two comfortable chairs that faced the desk. It made me wonder if he had a business through which he earned his own money, or whether his was the kind of wealth passed from father to son through the generations. I suspected the latter was true.

Conner sat with his hands folded together. “This was no ordinary sword, boys. It was nearly an exact replica of Prince Jaron’s sword before he was lost. It was last seen around his waist at supper the night before he boarded the ship that ultimately carried him to his doom. Now, you may think by stealing it you have given yourself an advantage. Perhaps you believe you can use the sword to shore up your claims of being the prince when you are presented at court. But that is futile because, as I said, it’s not an exact replica. Anyone with a practiced eye will easily know it’s a copy. Perhaps you have stolen it to give yourself an advantage in sword-fighting. Again, this is futile. Any of you may practice with Mott as often as you’d like to become as skilled as you’d like. And if you stole it so that the other two boys couldn’t practice with it, then remember that there are several other swords still available for practice. Now I want a confession. Who took it?”

All three of us remained silent. Conner couldn’t possibly believe that the thief would confess. None of us was that stupid.