Page 81 of A Kingdom Restored

“She needs a spear!” The frantic cry came from Sage, whom Merletta saw now was being held between two guards.

Heath turned his head sharply at the words. Unsurprisingly, none of the guards were carrying spears, but a moment later something came hurtling into the water. Merletta dove down after it, catching it before it disappeared into the loch’s depths. It was some kind of decorative pole, but it was better than nothing. Ripping off the pennant that adorned it, Merletta turned in time to clumsily parry a slash from the Record Master.

He let out a growl as he renewed his attack, but Merletta fended him off ferociously. She felt much more secure with a spear in her hand, however makeshift. She wasn’t a gritty untrained orphan from the slums anymore. Not for nothing had she spent countless hours over the last few years training to fight like a guard. She rained blows upon the Record Master, moving fluidly through the water as she advanced, constantly on the edge of breaking through his guard.

Wherever possible she forced him up toward the surface, and further toward the edge of the loch. At last, when he was almost against the rocky side of the cliff, she managed to land a thrust, not far below the point where his skin turned to scales. It didn’t skewer him, as a proper spear likely would have, but it was still enough to send his blood pouring into the water.

He gave a harsh cry, his hand flying to the wound, and Merletta couldn’t resist a taunt.

“Guess you shouldn’t have let them train me for so long before trying to do me in.”

The Record Master’s face twisted in rage, but he had no chance to respond. Seeing what was just behind him, Merletta swung her blunt spear around, pressing the flat of its length against his midriff and forcing him back against the cliff.

Arms shot out from behind him, seizing him in an iron grip. Merletta saw him freeze as the tip of a blade was pressed to his back. Merletta still held him in place with her weapon, but before she knew what was happening, one of the guards had seized her arm as well, and was hauling her bodily from the water.

“Watch out!” she screamed, as she felt her scales ripple in preparation for the change.

But the warning was too late. The Record Master had taken full advantage of the sudden reprieve, twisting around toward the man who held him. In the same moment, he snatched a small blade from his still-intact belt. With a cry of horror, Merletta watched as he stabbed it upward, catching Prince Lachlan in the arm.

The prince let out a grunt of agony, releasing his captive to clutch the wound. The Record Master drew his arm back, clearly ready to attack again. Merletta flailed uselessly against the guard who held her, while the other guard lunged toward the merman. It was clear he wouldn’t make it in time.

Suddenly, the Record Master let out a shrill scream. Merletta blinked stupidly at him, her mind taking a moment too long to comprehend what she was seeing. An arrow was sticking straight out from his arm like an urchin’s needle. It had been shot with such force she could actually see the arrowhead protruding out the other side of the arm.

Her stomach roiling, she followed the trajectory of the arrow to see Heath, one foot braced against the balustrade, a fresh arrow in the bow as he calmly surveyed the scene below.

With a gasp, the Record Master fell backward from the pale-faced Prince Lachlan, disappearing silently beneath the water. Merletta struggled harder against her captor, who issued a curt command to stay put.

“Are you going to retrieve him from the bottom of the loch?” Merletta demanded. “He’s not dead! He can swim out to sea if we leave him!”

The guard wavered, and Merletta took the opening. Wrenching away, she dove back into the water, racing after the Record Master. To her relief, he wasn’t making any attempt to escape. The arrow still stood out of his arm, and he seemed to be on the edge of consciousness. She wrapped an arm around his torso, flicking with her tail to bring him back to the surface.

As soon as they reached the bank, guards converged upon them. More had raced down the steps, and Merletta and the Record Master were both hauled back up to the courtyard. Merletta realized she was limping a little, her toes cut and bleeding from when the Record Master injured her fin. When they reached the platform, she realized that almost everyone was either staring at her in astonishment or carefully averting their eyes. A surreptitious glance down reassured her that her shells were still in position, as was her short, scaled skirt. Must be a human privacy thing.

“Merletta!” Heath rushed forward, his eyes scanning her, although clearly not out of interest in her attire. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.” Following his gaze, she got a good look at the Record Master. He still seemed barely conscious, blood pouring from the wound Merletta had inflicted to his thigh, and from the arm pierced by the arrow. “Did you miss?” she asked Heath. “Or weren’t you trying to kill him?”

“I didn’t miss.” Heath’s eyes had moved to Prince Lachlan, who was walking up the stairs between two guards, grasping his injured arm. “It seemed appropriate to go for the arm,” Heath said. Concern creased his brow as he watched the prince. “Lachlan’s wound is bad, Merletta. It’s…worse than it looks.”

“How do you know?” she demanded.

Heath shook his head. “I just do. When I look at the wound, I can just…see it.”

King Matlock’s face was pale as he strode forward to greet his son. After a brief conversation, he turned to Heath.

“Lord Heath,” he said, his voice a little stiff. “I must thank you. It seems that once again your intervention was timely.” His tone darkened. “Although do not think it will make me forget how much you have concealed from me.”

Heath dipped his head. “I understand, Your Majesty,” he said.

King Matlock had already moved on to the Record Master, however. Fury made his form tremble. “You carry no magic, you said? How many more lies have you fed me, with the veneer of truth?”

“Don’t blame yourself, Your Majesty,” said Merletta wearily. “He’s made a life’s work out of deception. He’s very good at it, and he knows how to be convincing.”

The duke nodded in agreement. “The complexity and scope of the deception that hangs around him is truly beyond anything I’ve ever encountered.” He strode forward, his eyes narrowed as they rested on the Record Master. “Are you behind the attacks on my sons? Did you frame Percival for attempting to kill the king?”

“Of course not,” the Record Master managed to grind out.

The duke drew in a sharp breath, his face twisted, as if the bald-faced lie was physically painful to him. “The deception is so potent, I could almost reach out a hand and grab it,” he muttered. Determination set across his features. “All the better.” He closed his eyes, taking on a look of great concentration.

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