by Sela Croft
And with good reason. In his mind, he’d been betrayed by Nemuri. Then he’d turned to me, only to be rejected. Alban had no humility, and he was unable to deal with rejection. Upon my departure, he would have flown into a rage, fueled by losing the battle with me.
His mental state or aggression weren’t my problems. Yet the situation disturbed me. I had a premonition—a feeling that I was unable to delineate further—that Alban would find another target for his wrath. Having failed to force me into submission, he’d take out his frustrations on another.
I shuddered to think of whom that might be. Two talented women had rejected him; that had to be rough on his ego. He’d be compelled to find an outlet, a new target, and a path to conquer that victim. Through repeated encounters with the king, I’d divined his essence. Unleashed, he would do whatever it took to soothe any sense of failure—for any inadequacy on his part was inconceivable.
I vowed to steer clear of Alban for a while. He was deadly when enraged, and I valued my life. I’d escaped him, but it would be foolhardy to take chances. I didn’t know what other tricks he might have in store, and nor did I wish to find out.
Nemuri hadn’t been lucky enough to escape. I pondered her situation and gathered my wits for the confrontation with Silvain. He wouldn’t be an easy sell, but I had to try. My friend was counting on me.
After teleporting deep into the rainforest, I stopped outside the castle grounds. I’d been away for a while, and the meeting with Silvain might be lengthy. I wondered what events had transpired that I’d missed. Thoughts of Mirela nagged at me. I’d left her to ponder her responsibilities, having been enlightened about her father.
I’d even offered to school her in her new talents. But I’d been rather busy, so hadn’t gotten to that yet. Mirela would have to get by without me for a while longer. I’d left her in good hands in the castle city—with a lot of protection—so I considered that Alban would have difficulty getting to her.
I looked at Silvain’s estate and focused on the task at hand. My relationship with the dark leader was complicated. He didn’t view me as a friend, and I didn’t see him as one either. But there was mutual respect between us, despite his unwelcoming attitude toward me.
That was just his way; politeness was not part of Silvain’s repertoire. He did what he pleased and said what he thought. That part I could appreciate. He admired my skills, although he wouldn’t admit it. And he’d been reluctant to make a plea for my allegiance, probably viewing the need of my assistance as a weakness.
Silvain was strong-willed and could be brutal. I’d witnessed that side of him. He was fueled by unbending motivation, so fought unwaveringly for his goals. His commitment was admirable, and I was inclined to trust him.
He had no buried rage like Draven did. His anger was fully exhibited, so it was no secret. He made no effort to submerge his aggression and seemed to see no reason to do so.
I found the honesty refreshing, although Silvain was ruthless. Once betrayed, he would be unforgiving. I’d managed to stay on his good side and hoped to keep it that way. There was no sense in having powerful enemies.
We’d made no agreements between each other, yet I’d shown support at times. I’d kept my options open, having learned that blind loyalty could be abused. I reserved the right to change my mind—but I wasn’t against Silvain.
I hadn’t declared a side in the war; I just sided with what was right—and that could change.
The estate grounds had improved since my last visit. There were charred areas from the fire, but the gardeners had been hard at work. Patches of flowers and scrubs were reemerging. New life thrived under the light of the stars and at the skilled touch of the gardeners.
Guards were stationed around the property, as though trouble was expected. Based on what I’d seen lately, that was wise. Much to Silvain’s aggravation, his force field was ineffective on me. I slipped through with no trouble, smiling at the gate guards as I passed by.
Since I was familiar to the staff—and Silvain had issued no orders to the contrary—I was allowed to enter. Inside the castle, I surveyed the current state of affairs. Iris was playing her role as an intimating steward, and the servants scurried about to comply with her requests.
I’d known Iris for some time yet hadn’t developed a fondness for her. I supposed she had her function, and she appeared efficient at her duties. If she hadn’t been, Silvain would have long since gotten rid of her. I’d heard that there had been an upset when Mirela had escaped, but there had been no clear evidence that Iris had been responsible.
Lily seemed to be doing better. At least she wasn’t crying, so that was an improvement. She interacted with the other servants and was diligently doing her work. I moved on without greeting her, on my way to find her master.
Silvain wasn’t immediately visible, making me hope that he wasn’t feeding again. I didn’t relish the idea of going to the dungeon, so I’d wait if he was down there.
An inquiry of one of the servants told me that I needn’t worry about that. I learned that Silvain was with his troops, so I went to his headquarters on the outer perimeter of the estate. His men were drilling, so I watched for a bit. Their strength and competence were impressive, a credit to their leader.
I walked around until I found Silvain in conference with one of his commanders. He wore the Dark Fighter uniform and stood next to his horse. The red-orange stallion had been bred for the leader and sired to accommodate Silvain’s requirements.
The horse possessed magical skills, which I’d witnessed a few times. He could fly for short spans and had enhanced perceptions. He could smell and hear from greater distances than other breeds. And he was more sentient. Silvain had great pride in his horse, and there was no other like him.
Silvain noticed my presence, and his copper eyes bored into me. It was his way of challenging me as to why I was there, without saying a word. I kept my distance until he was finished with his business. Interrupting him might make him cranky, and I needed him in an amenable mood.
I looked at Silvain’s height and broad shoulders, wondering about his heritage. We hadn’t spoken of personal matters before. He had a rugged appearance and was muscled. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’d descended from a line of warriors.
Then the commander nodded and turned to go. Silvain came over to me. “Another visit? So soon?”
“You are charming,” I said. “I find you difficult to resist you.”
“Of course,” Silvain said. “I prefer to talk in the library.” He strode toward the castle, so I followed.
He hadn’t turned me away, so maybe he’d hear what I had to say. Whether he’d help me or not depended on his mood. I hoped for Nemuri’s sake that he would be agreeable.
In the library, I took a seat on the sofa, and Silvain took a chair across from me. He seemed to dwarf the furniture, even though it was large and well constructed. I chatted a bit to warm him up, and he listened—that was a good sign.
Then he grew impatient. “What is the purpose of your visit, witch?”
I noted that his voice didn’t have as much bite in it as usual. It appeared that I’d come at a good time. “It’s about my friend Nemuri.” I proceeded to relay what had occurred, without dragging it out too much.
Silvain seemed to consider what I’d said, while I waited for his reaction.
“Alban grows haughtier by the day.” Silvain looked at the fireplace, as though remembering something. “And I grow tired of his evil ways.”
Silvain appeared to be in a mood to communicate, so I remained silent.
“I have sympathy for Nemuri’s situation,” he said. “Fortunately, you haven’t come to plead for mercy for the Guardians. For if you had, I’d turn you away. Your other friends have suffered heavy losses and have need of help.”
I was curious, so let him continue.
“My guerrilla warfare strategy has proven effective.” Silvain looked at me. “But I wouldn’t object to a bit of sorcery on my side.
”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Sooner or later, you’ll have to choose sides,” Silvain said, “if only so you don’t end up on the losing team.”
“If you say so.”
“You’ve come to ask for my support, and I will respond.” Silvain leaned forward. “But first…I must ask for your support. You have skill that could be used to help push the odds of winning in favor of my Dark Fighters.”
I raised my brows. “I’m not sure why I would do that, instead of supporting the Guardians.”
“I can tell you why,” Silvain said. “I feel the time has come for you to know the truth. You hang out with my enemy, yet I invite you into my castle. I’m certain that when you hear what I have to say you will grant your allegiance.”
Silvain was in an unusual mood. He hadn’t spoken to me in confidence or shared secrets before. “I’m anxious to hear what you have to tell me.”
“You haven’t looked into my past, have you, witch?”
“No…what would I discover?”
“Did you know that I am full vampire, not a half-breed like Draven?”
“I had no reason to think otherwise.”
Silvain’s lips curved in a tiny smile. “I am purebred. And I’m older than Draven. I lived many years before his birth. The ancient blood in my veins bestowed immortality upon me. I may visibly age over the centuries, but I won’t physically look older than mid-thirties, as I do now.”
I waited for what point he was trying to make. What he’d said so far, I could have guessed.
“But there is something that Draven and I have in common.” Silvain watched me closely. “The Guardian leader is Alban’s son, sired while the king was married to a human woman.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that.”
“But I am…the king’s illegitimate son.” Silvain waited for that to sink in.
“Son?”
“I was Alban’s eldest, yet he refused to recognize me. Even when I was in the womb, my mother feared what he would do if he learned of the pregnancy,” Silvain said. “She kept her baby secret, then gave birth to me without the king’s knowledge.”
“But he found out?”
“Alban discovered the truth but made sure that no one would learn of it.” Silvain grimaced, making me reluctant to ask what had happened to his mother. “He had his reasons for disavowing my mother.
“The king wiped the memories of his human servants to quiet any rumors. And to the rest of his staff, he issued threats. No one dares whisper a word about my relationship to him.” He took a breath. “My name has been blotted from all royal records.”
“You intend to unseat Alban to take the throne that you see as rightfully yours?”
“It is more than that,” Silvain said. “My hatred for the king knows no bounds. Yet beyond that, I do not wish for this kingdom to be in the grip of death.”
“Draven feels the same way.”
Silvain’s eyes flared with emotion. “No…it’s different for him.”
“In what way?”
“I was not raised at the palace, by Alban’s hand, or under his tutelage. But…Draven was.” Silvain stood and paced the floor. “Draven is cut from the same cloth as the king; he is more like him than he admits. Evil simmers below the surface ready to take over. Do you really trust him?”
I’d had similar thoughts—and doubts—but didn’t wish to share them.
“If Draven is allowed to win, he will assume his role as king.” Silvain looked at me. “But don’t think for a moment that he will implement progressive policies, as he claims. Once Alban is unseated, a new evil will rise…his youngest son.”
Silvain’s motivations became clear. The war wasn’t about his desire for control. It was a fight against evil, and it was personal. “Does Draven know that Alban is your father?”
“No…he doesn’t need to know. It wouldn’t make any difference,” Silvain said. “I’ve told you for a reason. You’ve asked for my help…I ask for yours. After what I’ve said, you must see that supporting Draven would be a grave error.”
I stared at Silvain, unable to ignore how passionately he believed what he’d told me. All he’d shared was the sparsest of facts. I had no doubt there was a great deal more to the story.
“So, witch…what do you say?” Silvain’s gaze locked with mine. “Will you pledge your loyalty to me?”
I’d come to make a plea for Nemuri’s rescue but had gotten much more than expected. I should have known all of this before. I should have looked—but I hadn’t. The revelations had come as a surprise. But having learned of Silvain’s heritage, I was forced to choose…and my decision could affect the outcome of the war and the future of the kingdom.
CHAPTER 54 – CALINA
I was still smiling about Mirela’s theatrics. The show with the lightning and hail had thrown off my captors long enough for the Guardians to catch them by surprise. It had been just enough of an edge that the fighters had been defeated.
Yet I wasn’t overconfident. Mirela may have proven that she was a worthy opponent, but the fighters were a formidable enemy—and the army had great numbers of soldiers. Intelligence had confirmed that Silvain’s forces were growing, so it would take smart military strategy to defeat him.
Nicolai was by my side now, but I wasn’t deluded. Any success was temporary. My love would have to return to the field, behind enemy lines, and put himself at risk again. It made my gut wrench to think of it. I wished to keep him with me and to withdraw to the safety of the castle city.
But safety was an illusion. Infiltrators had been discovered, with a traitor in my own home, as an employee. That brought home the point that nowhere was safe, and it wouldn’t be until we made it so. It made me feel guilty for distracting my brother.
Draven had been on his way to the front on an important mission, but had abandoned it for my sake. I was thankful for that, as I had no idea how Nicolai and I would have survived otherwise. The incident had resulted in casualties, plus I’d sustained an injury that might be permanent.
It was all rather discouraging, despite our momentary win. A stabbing pain in my womb reminded me of my travail. The whip of the enemy might have stolen my chance to have children, the family that Nicolai and I wanted so badly.
I couldn’t allow myself to think of it now. Nicolai rode by my side and would perceive my thoughts. I wished to keep any worry from him, until I was certain there was an issue. I prayed that I would fully recover, that I could put this incident behind me.
The pain didn’t seem as bad as it had. That might be a good sign. It was possible that I was needlessly concerned. But until I saw the doctor I wasn’t going to relax about it. I looked over at Nicolai, lost in thought. He had an important message he’d intercepted and was on his way to deliver it to his commander.
It was good that he was occupied with concerns of his own. Otherwise, he might have picked up my distress, and no longer believed that I was fine. I forced my mind onto other matters, not allowing any negative thoughts.
Draven and Mirela dropped back to ride with us. His comrades were in front of them. I thought of General Clay and knew he’d be glad of our return. Although he was competent, so I’d had no reservations about leaving him in charge while I ventured out to rescue Nicolai.
“I trust that message is worth all this effort,” Draven said to Nicolai.
Nicolai’s expression was serious. “In my judgment, it will be. The enemy will realize that the communication has fallen into the wrong hands, but it will still provide insight into their operations. That type of information is vitally needed.”
“Once we get back to the castle city, I’ll leave Mirela with my sister, then return to my original mission.” Draven glanced at Mirela as if to make sure that she was safe. “I cannot allow Silvain to continue to wear down our defenses. I intend to thwart his guerilla warfare and discourage him from further attempts.”
“I agree,” Nicolai said. “We stand a better chance in a confr
ontation, with the enemy out in the open where we can fight, face to face.”
“The instant his surviving men return to his palace, Silvain will be alerted to what has transpired,” Draven said. “I intend to be within our fortifications at the castle, before that event.”
“We must,” Nicolai said. “And I need to deliver this message promptly. It was nearly wrested from my hands once. I can’t allow that to happen again, as I might not be so lucky next time.”
I spotted Quin, Spence, and Jon riding together, deep in conversation. No doubt they were attending to their duty of keeping our army faction intact until we could return to the protection of the castle walls. Travelling was dangerous, with threats lurking behind every bush.
Mirela guided her horse beside mine, then smiled. “We should be back soon enough.”
I understood her message; she was concerned for me. Since she’d witnessed my injury, there was no way to hide it from her. I was confident that she wouldn’t tell Nicolai until I was ready. But she wouldn’t forget that it had happened either.
“I’ll see to things as soon as I’m able,” I said. It was useless to tell her not to worry, so I didn’t try. “I’m glad you’ll be with me at the castle. I could use the company. And I hate to think of you on the battlefield, even though I know you want to be with Draven.”
“After all of this, I could use a break.” Mirela smiled. “I believe that Draven will do fine without me, as long as he knows I’m not alone. You and I make a good team, anyway. I think we just proved that when we’re together, we can’t be defeated.”
“You are ever the optimist.” I smiled, as Mirela had a way of cheering me up.
Draven motioned for Mirela to join him, so she prodded her horse to move ahead.
For a while, I rode next to Nicolai. We didn’t say much, as our focus was on getting home. I guarded my thoughts carefully. Telepathy was a good thing, but it made it tricky when I preferred to keep something to myself. I filled my mind with images of the castle city and the warmth of my home.