The Feline Wizard Read Online Free PDF

enjoyed one another's favors, as they had with other young folk of the court—and what if they offered him mercy to tell who had helped him? Why should he not speak? For surely, in his place, she would!
    The guard announced them hurriedly, then stepped aside to open the door. The courtiers flung Sikander on the floor, and Prince Tashih stepped forward into his father's workroom, falling to his knees and bowing his head so that his neck was stretched out for a sword's blow. “Your pardon, Father and sovereign! My rash words have brought woe upon this house!”
    “What rash words? Why do you kneel like one who cries for mercy?” Prester John demanded in alarm. “And why lies Sikander here upon my floor?”
    Prince Tashih poured forth the story, taking more blame upon himself for his jealousy and rash words than he cast upon Sikander. When he was done, Prester John raised him up, eyes shining with pride. “Yes, my son, you were rash and foolish in your jealousy, for never could any other soul stand between yourself and me! Never could Princess Balkis nor anyone else threaten your inheritance, for you are the heir born, as no one else can be, for none can have the mystical link with the land and the people save the child of the monarch. Only you have been trained to be sovereign of this land in my place, and none other can have it. Still, all your kin shall be reservoirs of strength for you in your reign, and Princess Balkis most of all, for she is already a puissant wizard and shall only gain strength as she grows in knowledge andpower. There can be no firmer support for the throne than one such as her!”
    Still Prince Tashih hung his head. “But to have such a pillar sent into the hands of our enemies…”
    “That is indeed a grievous threat,” Prester John agreed, his voice somber. He turned to Sikander. “And most grievous was the treachery that wrought it! Speak, Sikander, for the shadow of the headsman's scimitar hangs over you! How did you find this shaman?”
    “He is the apothecary who supplied the drug.” Sikander felt no compunction about betraying the barbarian.
    “Is he indeed! And how did you put the drug in the princess' drink?”
    Sikander was silent, at a loss. How could he explain that without betraying Corundel? And how had the king known?
    Prester John had only guessed—but it had been a reasonable deduction, considering that his niece had shown no signs of being drugged when she left his company to sleep. “You could not have done it yourself, for she had only women about her in her privy chambers. You must have had a confederate, a woman. Tell me her name!”
    Sikander raised a stony face and kept silent.
    “You shall tell me in the end,” Prester John assured him. “It were better if that end were not yours.” He turned to the guards. “Take him to a prison cell. Give him a swallow of water every hour, but no food. If he has not spoken by tomorrow's dawn, I shall think of stronger measures.”
    They hustled Sikander out the door. Prester John said to the two courtiers who had brought Sikander, “You may go. I must have speech with my son.”
    The prince paled.
    The two courtiers bowed and backed away through the doorway. There they turned on their heels and, filling each other's head with wild guesses about Sikander's fate, went quickly to find their companions.
    They found them in the courtiers' common room, a chamber high-ceilinged and spacious, floored with Persian carpets and walled by frescoes. Some nobles were in chairs, others were among the islands of cushions on the floor, alltalking breathlessly of the events of the morning. When they saw the two men approach, all rose and fell upon them, demanding news.
    “The king sets no blame on Prince Tashih,” said the first.
    A murmur of surprise passed through the assemblage, although a few had known the king would be very slow to attach any real blame to his son.
    Corundel bit her lip and clenched her hands, stifling her own