Chapter 10

David leaned, seemingly nonchalant, against the corridor wall outside Beauregard d'Achelle's bedchamber, hands in his pockets. "Come on, Michael, how long can it take?" he whispered softly to his missing partner. "We don't have all day, you know."

Finally the dark-haired knight appeared, slipping out of the chamber door. "Done," he announced with a mischievous grin.

"About time," David grumbled as they walked casually down the hall to their next target. "You want me to do this one?"

"Sure," Michael replied, taking the small, tightly-sealed vial out of his belt pouch and handing it to his partner. "D'Achelle's clothes chest was unlocked, so I just sprinkled them around in his hose."

"All right." David rapped on the door of Thomas D'Vrey's chamber, just to be sure no one was inside, then entered.

Michael leaned against the wall, whistling a little under his breath, as he sometimes did when he was nervous or concentrating. There shouldn't be anyone around this time of the morning, but you could never tell. After all- Damn.

He straightened up and tried to look as if he'd been walking along the hall as D'Vrey came around the corner, headed for his bedchamber.

"D'Vrey!" he said, a trifle loudly, hoping to the gods that David could hear him through the thick door. "Did the page find you?"

"Page?" D'Vrey raised an elegant eyebrow. "What page?"

"One of the queen's pages, I think. He seemed anxious to find you."

"Really." He looked puzzled. "I wonder what- You're sure he was looking for me?"

"I'm sure he said Sir Thomas," Michael told him earnestly. "Is there another one? Perhaps you'd better check. You wouldn't want Her Grace to think you were ignoring her summons."

D'Vrey blanched at the thought. "Yes, I'd better go to her," he agreed.

Well, that was easy, Michael thought, watching the man hurry away. Now if David would only get out here before someone else came along-- "It's about time," he grumbled as the door behind him opened cautiously. "Let's get out of here."

"I had to wait until I was sure he was gone, didn't I?" the other knight protested, coming out into the hall and closing the door behind him. "It's not like I could just open the door and see if he was still here. And why are you so jumpy? We've done things a lot more dangerous and you've never been this nervous about being caught."

"Ky," Michael said simply.

"Ah. Good point," David replied. "This would be a little hard to explain, wouldn't it?"

"Just a little." Michael started to chuckle. "I can't believe we're doing this."

"Well, we promised not to kill them," David said logically.

"We promised not to hurt them, either."

"We're not hurting them, we're just humiliating them a little." They grinned conspiratorially. "How long do you think it will take?"

Michael thought for a minute. "I'd say at least an hour before they warm up enough to become active. If the men change for dinner, I'd say we're in for a fine evening's entertainment."

The princes were waiting when they entered the indoor training salle, dressed in their work clothes and ready to go.

"We couldn't warm up. There's all this furniture in the arena," Ty pointed out a little anxiously.

"It's all right. We're going to do something a little different today," Michael assured him. "We're going to test you on some of the things you've learned so far."

David led the way into the arena. "All right, you've walked into a room, the door closed behind you, and you find yourself facing two assassins. What are you going to do?"

"Say excuse me, and walk back out?" Ty suggested flippantly.

"Try again," David told him firmly.

"This is supposed to be the room?" Ky asked speculatively, looking at the furniture set out around the big open space.

"That's right," Michael replied. "Now, David and I will be the assassins. Show us what you're going to do."

To his surprise, instead of grabbing for one of the make-shift weapons scattered around the 'room', the princes looked at each other, took deep breaths, and let out high, ear-splitting screams; screams that were piercing enough to shatter glass and went on and on, causing the knights to clap their hands over their ears to protect their hearing. Several guardsmen barreled into the training salle, weapons drawn and ready for battle.

"Now the guards kill you and we go home," Ty announced with satisfaction, as the guardsmen realized what was happening and lowered their weapons. "Next lesson?"

"Next lesson. You're all dead," Michael told the grinning men, and they obediently collapsed into heaps on the ground, feigning death.

"Hell," Ty complained bitterly as he whipped around, grabbed a vase from the table behind him, and threw it at David, flowers and all.

As Ky repeated the maneuver with a full wine decanter, Ty angled to reach a wooden practice sword lying on the table, and Ky snatched up a poker from the 'fireplace'. Positioning themselves back to back, they held the knights off, brandishing their weapons menacingly, and an unequal battle ensued. The knights managed to keep the princes from reaching the 'door' and escaping, but the princes were unable to disarm the knights, who had the advantage of both greater reach and superior weapons.

"This isn't fair," Ty panted at last, parrying yet another blow. "There's no way we can beat you. We might as well give up."

"No, not yet," Ky replied breathlessly as he fended off Michael with his poker. He had seen something that Ty couldn't. One of the 'dead' guardsmen, Fendric, had been with the princes since they were babies, and he now decided to take a hand in their defense. Mimicking a badly wounded man, he was dragging himself slowly and stealthily toward Michael. Ky started a wild flurry of swings that kept Michael distracted, allowing Fendric to roll close enough to grab Michael's ankle and throw him off-balance. As the knight went down, Fendric 'stabbed' him, and Ky whirled to help Ty with his attacker. With two against one, they soon backed David into a corner and, as Ky went high, Ty ducked low and planted his sword against the knight's abdomen.

"You're dead!" he announced triumphantly.

"And that's why you don't give up," David pointed out, lowering his own sword and going over to give Michael a hand up. "Because the longer you hang on, the more chance there is that help will arrive."

"The other lesson here is that you never turn your back on an enemy unless you're sure he's dead," Michael added ruefully, rubbing his hip. "Take a break and cool off, then we'll talk about how you did."

"Thank you, Fendric," Ty told the guardsman as he went to get a drink of water.

"Thank you," Ky echoed with a friendly smile.

"Just doing my job, Your Highnesses," he smiled back.

"What are you doing this afternoon?" Ty asked David later, as the knight stood watching the young men clean their practice swords.

"We're going to do sword drills with some of your guardsmen," David replied. "Why? Did you need me for something?"

"No. We have to attend a council meeting," Ty said regretfully as he inspected his sword and then racked it with the others. "So we won't be able to talk again until bedtime. I wish-"

"What?" David asked encouragingly.

"Nothing," the prince sighed. "We'd better go. We're barely going to have time to bathe and change now."

"Make sure you take time to eat something," Michael advised, coming up behind them and lightly massaging Ky's neck and shoulders. "You've used up a lot of energy this morning."

"We will." Ky rested his hand briefly over the bigger one on his shoulder. "Joris will have something waiting for us."

"We'll see you at bedtime, then." David glanced around to make sure they were alone, then gave Ty a quick kiss. "Go on now, so you'll have time to eat."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

David paused in the doorway of the Dining Hall, automatically surveying the room before entering for the evening meal. Michael was already at the table, talking to one of the other bachelor knights, and he waved at David, gesturing at the empty place next to him.

"Excuse me."

David turned to see the princes standing behind him.

"You're in our way," Ty told him pointedly as the knight stared at them, swallowing hard.

The princes were dressed in the first of their new wardrobe and the tunics were indeed knee-length, but no one could possibly mistake them for old men. Gone were the ornate costumes they usually wore in the evening. The black silk under-tunics they had on now were severely tailored, with a simple banded collar and straight, tight, wrist-length sleeves. Narrow bands of gold embroidery on the collar and cuffs were the only decoration.

The black velvet over-tunics tightly laced over them subtly drew the eye to their trim build and emphasized their physical attributes in a way that the shorter tunics never had. The severity of color and style was relieved only by more narrow bands of gold on the deep armholes and hem. Black hose and slippers completed the outfit; a braided gold belt holding a small, ornamental dagger, a simple gold earring and signet ring, and the thin gold circlet denoting their rank were their only jewelry

They looked both older and taller, a picture of dignified maturity and undisguised sexuality at the same time. David swallowed again, fighting the desire to ravish his prince there in front of everyone. Instead he stepped back as they stood posed in the doorway, enjoying the buzz of conversation and gaping expressions as first one, then more and more people noticed them. Ty had been right, the tailors of the city were going to grow rich off this change in fashion, David thought, but he couldn't help wondering, a little forlornly, where his impish, mischievous young prince had gone. Then Ty's gaze met his and the bright twinkle in the sapphire eyes reassured him.

The look was reinforced a moment later when the princes gracefully moved to greet the queen, something they rarely did, and whose purpose at this moment was simply to highlight the differences in their attire.

Queen Alida wore a pink and ruby satin gown that was designed specifically to enhance her voluptuous figure. The burgundy bodice was elaborately embroidered and embellished with fine beadwork and hand-painted lace. It was cut low enough that the queen's ample bosom seemed ready to spill over the top at any moment, while the deep v-shaped waist was banded in gold, drawing the eye downward. Gauzy pink skirts and elaborate lace sleeves covered with the same embroidery and beadwork completed the gown. With it she wore a fine diamond and ruby necklace and matching tiara, as well as several bracelets and rings, a small sample of the king's generosity.

Compared to the other peacocks of the Court, she was a picture of sumptuous finery. Compared to the young men's understated elegance, her opulent dress, revealing neckline and multitude of jewelry looked tawdry and cheap. She knew it too, thought David, taking in the deep, unbecoming flush before she stalked away. "Oh, my small one, I hope that wasn't a mistake," he thought forebodingly. "You just devastated her pride, and I think you pushed her over the edge from simple dislike to pure hatred."

Queen Alida's pride was indeed devastated, and she seethed as she made her way to her place at the high table, head held high. She was well-aware that people were looking first at her, then at the princes on the other side of the king; that they whispering about her, and that the comparison was not in her favor. "How *dare* they?" she raged silently. They'd pay for that little trick. Oh, how they'd pay. She'd make their lives hell from now until they were slaughtered by that magnificent dragon, and she'd enjoy watching as they were ripped limb from bloody limb. Then, she gloated, one hand spread across her abdomen possessively, then *her* child would be next in line for the throne, not the misbegotten spawn of her puling, whey-faced predecessor. The child she carried would be the next ruler and she would be the power behind the throne. Let people laugh at her then! She spent the rest of the meal pleasuring herself with thoughts of revenge, and as the king stood, signaling the end of the meal, she looked around for D'Achelle or D'Vrey, anxious to set them on the princes once more.

D'Vrey was in a foul mood as he led yet another young lady out onto the terrace, glancing around hopefully for a sight of the princes. He was out of luck, however. They were prudently remaining surrounded by people, frequently near the king or one of his ministers. D'Vrey wasn't stupid enough to carry out the queen's mission in front of those particular men, no matter how displeased she became.

In addition, he had a strange, uneasy feeling in his groin, as if there were ants moving about in his hose. He resisted the urge to scratch himself, but was unable to repress a small shudder as the eerie feeling became more pronounced.

"Are you cold, m'lord?" the young woman asked him anxiously. "Shall we go back inside?"

"I think we should, if you don't mind. The air does seem a bit cool, and we don't want you to catch a chill," he replied gallantly.

He left her alone in the Hall under the pretext of fetching more wine and hurried to a garderobe, where he checked his hose yet again. This time, when he brushed his hand across his flesh, it felt gritty and in the dim light he saw tiny grains of sand clinging to his hand. Sand, he thought wonderingly. Someone had put sand in his hose! Someone was waiting for him to humiliate himself in public, he thought grimly, brushing his hands together to remove the offending grit. Well, he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. He returned to the Hall, where he spent the remainder of the evening attempting to ignore the growing pinpricks and burning sensation. It isn't real, he told himself firmly. It was simply a reaction to knowing about the sand. The idea that someone had been close enough to put it in his clothing gave him a creepy sensation and he resolved to lock his door from now on.

He moved from group to group, mingling among them, dancing occasionally, all the while watching out of the corner of his eye, trying to catch someone watching him. Finally, the iron control necessary to act normally, to refrain from squirming or adjusting himself, became too great. He couldn't leave for the evening until the queen did, not with the mood she was in, but he went out onto the terrace once more, finding a darkened corner where he could lean against the wall and brood. As he stood cursing his luck, he heard movement behind him. He turned quickly, ready to fend off an attack, but was rewarded by the sight of his unwary targets wandering aimlessly toward him, half-empty wineglasses in hand.

"Well, well," he said with a mocking grin. "If it isn't our two young princes. Starting the mourning early?" he asked, indicating the black attire.

"We thought it would make us look taller," Ky replied gravely, taking a sip of his wine.

"You know how it is," Ty added with a careless shrug. "We wouldn't want the dragon to think that he's being short-changed."

"Short-changed?? That was *bad*, Ty," his twin reproved him with a grimace. "If you have to pun, couldn't you at least come up with some decent ones?"

"I didn't know there were any decent ones." Ty tossed off the last of the wine in his glass. "Are you ready to go back inside?"

"Might as well. There's nothing interesting out here," Ky replied indifferently, and the two linked arms and wandered away without a backward glance.

"To hell with the queen," D'Vrey thought tiredly. "He'd think up a good story for her tomorrow." He slipped out of the Hall and headed for his bedchamber.

When he reached it, he immediately pulled off his hose and wet a cloth from the pitcher on the washstand. It was too late to get a decent bath, but at least he could wash the sand off with cool water. Sitting down on the bed, he lifted his tunic to inspect the area again, turning so that the lamplight would shine on the affected area. "What the hell?", he thought. With the better illumination he could see that the grains of sand were moving and they were growing as well. One, about the size of a grain of rice, humped itself into his pubic hair and the sudden needle-sharp jab of pain explained the earlier pinpricks. It was *biting* him! He hurriedly pushed the hair aside with a fingertip, intending to catch it and squash it between his fingers, but brushing the hair aside revealed more of them. Larger still, the thin worm-like creatures were writhing against his skin like maggots. He gagged, but forced himself to inspect them more closely.

They weren't just biting, they were attaching themselves to his skin. Feeding on him, he realized with revulsion. As he watched, one of them, bloated and ugly, crimson with purloined blood, detached itself and dropped to the bed between his legs. As he flicked it to the floor and crushed it in disgust, he caught a better view of his genitals. Oh, GODS! They had attached themselves to-- They were *feeding* on--

The two knights loitering in the hall grinned elatedly as the first screams rang out. Slapping hands triumphantly, they slipped away as the hall began to fill with excited onlookers, well-satisfied with their revenge.