Split Heirs Read Free Page A

the message was unsigned and in code. Unlucky for Pringus, Gudge got so annoyed when no one could translate the note that he gave the poor boy over to his Gorgorian bodyguards as their regimental…mascot.”
    â€œOh.” Ludmilla blanched. “Now that you mention it, the last time I saw the young man he didn’t look half so cheerful as he used to. Well, never you mind, my waddle-duckums, your Ludmilla will do everything right.”
    â€œUmmmm,” Artemisia murmured drowsily.
    â€œNow first off, let’s see…” Ludmilla began to gather herself together. “Where are those portraits? Whoopsadaisy, here they be, right where I left them. Dearie, rouse yourself a bit, there’s a good girl. You’ve got to name these sweet dollykits before I go, you know. Now here’s the miniature of Prince Helenium the Wise. Which one will you name for him?”
    â€œMy firstborn son,” the queen replied, her voice muzzy.
    â€œWell, and which one’s that?”
    â€œOh, Ludmilla, the one that’s not a girl !”
    â€œHmph! There’s two of ’em as aren’t girls, and as like as two straws in a haystack they are. Or haven’t you been paying attention?”
    Artemisia opened one cold, blue eye. “I shall pay the closest attention to your execution if you don’t stop dithering. Didn’t you tie the sacred red cord around the wrist of my firstborn?”
    â€œLawks! Well, I never — I am such a goose; of course I did. Let me just unwrap the babes a wee bit and…ah, there it is, red as red can be. So! I’ll just untie it a moment so’s I can thread this charm on the cord and we’re all — oh, it is a striking resemblance to Prince Helenium, isn’t it?”
    Prince Helenium had died two centuries ago, but considering how old Ludmilla looked, it was entirely possible that they had been acquainted. She babbled on about the many virtues of the old Hydrangean prince until her royal mistress rather peevishly instructed her to get on with it. “We’ll never get these babies officially named and off to safety at the rate you’re going.”
    â€œOh! Now see what you’ve made me do, you willful girl! I’ve gone and dropped the naming tokens in the cradle. All righty, my little dovey-byes, let’s just get you all named spang-spang-spang, jig time, like you was no better than a litter of puppies.”
    Ludmilla was in a full-blown snit. Artemisia fought to open both eyes in time to watch her handmaid fussing about in the ceremonial cradle, muttering darkly as she worked. “ You are Prince Helenium, and you can just be called after Lord Helianthus the Lawgiver, and never you mind about the proper naming rituals! No, we’re in a hurry , we are! Now where did I put the cord for tying your token ’round your little wristy — ? Ah, here it is. I’ll be forgetting where I put my own head next, we’re so desperate quick about things! And you , you can be named for Queen Avena the Well-Beloved — oh, bother these slipknots, I never could tie a decent… there! Fine. Done. All tagged with their proper tokens and with no more observance of the decencies than was they three sacks full of grain for the market. Will there be anything else, Your Majesty?”
    Icicles hung from Ludmilla’s last words, but Artemisia was too tired to mind. “Just change into your disguise and take Avena and Helianthus to my brother. And let me get some rest before I strangle you,” said the queen as she drifted off into a well-deserved sleep.

Chapter Two
    Queen Artemisia could not recall when she last had enjoyed such a refreshing rest. It was the first decent sleep she’d had since the Gorgorian invasion. (It stood to reason that you didn’t catch too many catnaps while hiding down in the palace cellars from the barbarian hordes, she reflected, and witnessing your noble father’s