“Maybe so they would stop torturing him for answers,” Slouch Hat replied. “Or maybe because it is not you he protects.”

“No.” Padric saw it. “He protects the real heir.”

Slouch Hat nodded. “As long as they believe you to be their ruler, they need not hunt any longer. Be it his wife or the child she may have borne, Kederic knows they are safer with a pretender in their place.”

“So that is what I have become.” Padric was both disgusted and grateful. “A pretender?”

“Until we can find a means of escape…yes.”

Padric stared at the floor, his thoughts darkening. “Impossible. There are thousands of goblins out there. We will be discovered and then we will die.”

“Yes,” Slouch Hat said, his tone forcing Padric to look at him. “But the Red Caps are set on conquest and are ready to declare war on Airlann. However they plan to do it, they must be stopped. The longer we remain in their company, the greater chance we have to thwart them. Would you rather die now, uselessly…or wait until you can sell your life dearly at the moment it may matter most?”

Padric looked into the husk’s hollow, black eyes and smiled. “Never thought I would find myself a king.”

“Rule wisely,” Slouch Hat said with his dry laugh.

“I best go,” Padric said bending, picking up the husk’s hat and placing it back over his head. He turned to leave, but a thought gave him pause. “Slouch Hat,” he said turning back. “What if I had been the true heir?”

The husk stared at him from the deep shadow under his wide brim. “I would have let them kill you.”

Outside the storehouse, Padric found his familiar honor guard waiting and they fell into step behind him. He had no intention of going back to the mead hall, he had too much to think on, so he made straight for his longhouse. He might be able to convince Torcan to let him have Slouch Hat as a servant, if he were careful. Husks were greatly prized, and it would only make him appear more formidable to have one at his side. Getting the Thegn free would be trickier and more dangerous, but Padric knew he needed to speak with the man, inform him that he now knew the truth. Three against thousands were better odds, after all.

He dreaded another night with Heggle. The crone slept on a palette at the foot of the bed, snuffling and snoring, but tonight it would be of little concern. Padric did not expect to rest easy for some time. When he entered the longhouse, he found the old goblin was not the only one waiting for him. Two women knelt on the fur rugs near the fire dressed in short shifts of thin linen. Heggle rushed forward, almost panting and pressed a goblet of mulled wine into his hand.