All the King's Traitors

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All the King's Traitors Page 29

by Keylin Rivers


  Gentry squeezed Rohan tight. “Me too, old friend, me too,” he choked out.

  Rohan held him at arms-length. “And Novella? The children?”

  “All safe,” said Gentry.

  Rohan sighed with relief.

  “What are we going to do?” shouted someone from the crowd.

  “We have no choice. We are going to have to fight,” Gentry called back. “They have taken far too much from us.”

  Rohan looked at his friend; he did not deserve someone as good as Gentry.

  “Rohan,” said Gentry, putting his hands on Rohan’s shoulders, “a third of our people are dead, and if we are going to have a chance, we need someone who knows Sable inside and out. Someone we can trust.”

  Rohan blinked. His tears were still wet on his cheeks.

  Gentry turned to face the crowd. “I nominate Rohan to lead the charge,” he said, raising his hand. “He was our best informant. He warned us of the attack even though it meant risking his daughter. And he is the last living advisor to our last leader. Does anyone second?”

  Rohan spun around as a chorus of ‘ayes’ erupted from the crowd. Almost everyone had their hands in the air. His head was spinning. He would be in charge now. He could finally free his daughter.

  “Then let us all be witness,” said Gentry. “Rohan is our new leader.”

  Rohan nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Everyone go and rest. Care to the wounded and collect the deceased. We fought well today. May we be free,” said Gentry, and the crowd began to disperse.

  “Now, there are some things we need to take care of right away,” said Gentry, turning to Rohan.

  “Like what?” asked Rohan.

  “Prisoners,” said Gentry. “We’ve gathered all the stragglers on the beach.”

  “Kill them.”

  “Rohan…”

  Rohan paused for a moment. He knew that wouldn’t work with Gentry, nor would it work with most of the Spearield inhabitants, but it had been worth the attempt. It was a risk to have loose lips around, though. Who knows what one of the soldiers may say in hopes of regaining freedom.

  “Take their weapons,” said Rohan. “They either join us against Azanthea or they stay as prisoners on the island.”

  “Right.”

  “And my brother?” called a young boy who had remained with the group.

  “One of ours is missing,” Gentry clarified. “Ion, Kuba’s brother, was taken by the army. I think you met him at the gate.”

  “We have to get him back!” said Kuba. He was covered in small scrapes and a bit of blood, but overall looked unharmed.

  “Alright,” said Rohan. A missing person was not high on his priority list. “Anything else?”

  “This,” the blond girl said as she stepped to the side. Behind her, sitting against the rock wall, was Vallich.

  “You!”

  “Why is that everyone’s reaction when they see me?” said Vallich. “Never, ‘it’s good to see you, Vallich! How’s it going, Vallich? Thanks for saving our lives, Vallich.’ Always just a stern ‘you.’”

  “What’s he doing here?” asked Rohan.

  “Fun to know you’re one of all the King’s traitors, too, Rohan. And here I thought we were the only ones.” Vallich motioned to the group around them.

  “Just answer the question, Vallich,” the girl said.

  “What is your name?” Rohan asked her.

  “Aurelia of Burrath.”

  “She is the daughter of Wolfmere,” said Gentry.

  Rohan raised an eyebrow. The heiress to the Northfang clan.

  “You crossed the border with Vallich?” asked Rohan.

  Aurelia nodded. “We didn’t know it was him, but yes, we did.”

  Rohan looked at Vallich. He must’ve had something to do with this.

  “I was just trying to get as far away as possible,” said Vallich. “As I’m sure you have heard, I left Apollyon.”

  “Why did you leave him?” questioned Rohan.

  “Someone… enlightened me,” said Vallich. “I could no longer be his puppet.”

  “Why did you come here?”

  “Where were you during the battle?” Vallich snapped back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t recall you being on the beach.”

  “Why, you little—”

  “No need to be hostile, it was just a question,” said Vallich, still casually leaning on the rock wall.

  His nonchalance irked Rohan.

  “If you truly must know, I heard talk at the docks about going after a Lightning-Wielder and a girl from the North,” Vallich said. Rohan watched as he made eye contact with Aurelia; she quickly looked away. “So, I followed. When I saw the brigade, I knew something was happening.”

  “For someone who was trying to get away, you seemed to have inserted yourself right back into the situation.”

  “I just so happen to care about this situation,” said Vallich. That was a lie if Rohan had ever heard one, though he couldn’t help but notice how he glanced in Aurelia’s direction. Vallich, caring about anyone? Vallich was still staring at Aurelia and by the look on her face, the comment had shocked her as well.

  “He did save us, and he killed Hectar,” said Gentry. “Without Vallich, we would have lost.”

  Rohan refrained from rolling his eyes. Gentry always had to be the voice of reason.

  “I say we kill him,” Aurelia said with a shrug.

  Rohan smiled. He liked this girl. She was action-oriented.

  “No!” shouted the young boy. “He saved us!”

  “Unfortunately, I have to agree. We can’t kill him. He may come in handy,” Rohan said. “But take his Godstones.”

  “No problem,” Vallich said, tossing a bag towards Rohan. “The other two may be trickier to give over, though.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Rohan.

  Vallich stood, and Rohan reached for his own Godstone. Vallich put his arms in the air and slowly turned around to face the rock. He brought his hands down and peeled off his sweaty shirt, holding it out to the side in one hand.

  Rohan’s eyes widened. Underneath a thin layer of mangled skin were the Godstones, buried in Vallich’s back.

  “I have two conditions,” said Vallich. “One per Godstone.”

  “What may they be?” asked Rohan.

  “Aurelia gets to remove them,” Vallich said. “And you leave us alone to do it.”

  “Not a chance—”

  “Gentry,” Aurelia cut in, “it’s fine. I will be fine.”

  “We can go up there,” said Vallich, nudging his head towards the rocky stairs. “You can all see us.”

  “Okay,” said Rohan.

  Vallich dropped his arms and turned around. Everyone seemed on edge, except Kuba, who just seemed distraught.

  The ding of Aurelia’s dagger leaving its sheath rang in Vallich’s ears.

  “Let’s go then,” she said, poking the edge of the short blade into his rib cage. He could feel his skin give under the pressure, a drop of warm blood trickling down his side.

  They marched in silence, Aurelia having moved her blade around to his back.

  “I got the idea from your father, you know,” he said once they were out of earshot and walking up the stone stairs.

  “You’re a monster,” she replied. “A sick, twisted monster.”

  “I am well aware.”

  “You will die by my hand one day.”

  “You have the chance now,” said Vallich, “if you really want to take it.”

  Aurelia growled, but didn’t say anything. The rest of the climb was silent.

  “I meant what I said,” he said as he stepped out onto the platform.

  “About what?”

  “Caring.”

  Aurelia scoffed. “All you care about it yourself.”

  Vallich shrugged. “Perhaps. I suppose I didn’t specify what exactly it was that I do cared about.”

  “You’re a perpetual liar with your venomous words.”
/>   “Sure, I lie,” Vallich said, “but I never break a vow.”

  “Why did you want me alone?”

  “I have a gift to give you.” He turned and gripped the top of the rock wall and looked out onto the wavy seas. He was tired, the ocean breeze was a welcome refresher. “Do the right one first, please.”

  “If you say so,” she said. Her tone was vicious.

  Vallich put his shirt between his teeth. He felt the cold steel cutting him open. He cried out, but the sound was muffled by the material. Aurelia was going much deeper than she had to.

  Then it stopped. Vallich took the gag out of his mouth.

  “That’s one,” she said.

  “That is my diamond Godstone,” said Vallich. “My mother died in childbirth, so my father would take me into the mines with him every day. One day, I was playing with the rocks and I found it. I was a year old.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Fine. On to the next.”

  Before he could even get his shirt back into his mouth, Aurelia was digging into him, fishing for the other stone. Vallich felt her slip. She sliced across his back all the way to the other wound. The cold blade nicked his spine as it made its way across. He groaned in agony.

  “There,” she said. He could feel her popping out the second Godstone, and then he heard the click of her blade going back into its sheath.

  He caught his breath and turned around to face her, leaning on the rock for support.

  “They look the same.” Aurelia had a Godstone in each hand.

  Vallich watched as her eyes widened in realization. “This is my gift to you,” he said, reaching out to curl her fingers around one of the Godstones. “The ice Godstone—your father’s. It belongs to you.”

  Chapter 50

  Azul, 1st Day of the Month of Fire, 1114 A.F.F.

  Kari’s clothes were filthy and her mind was still loopy from the Nightwine. The Enlightenment Trial had ended a few hours ago, and she had spent that time with a healer. She hadn’t known who Apollyon may have spoken to since visiting her cell, but she couldn’t risk anyone seeing her pain. He couldn’t find out she had faked being controlled. She could only imagine what he would do if he did. Kari shuddered at the thought, which sent a shooting pain down her arm.

  She eagerly walked through the stone paths of exotic gardens with the two Elevenths that had been assigned to her. They were heading towards the grand hall of the court and, even though she was tired, she bounded ahead of them by several feet, determined to get back to Mímrvor and check on Dane and Amelie. She had inquired about all of them in the infirmary, quite persistently in fact, but neither the healers nor the guards would reply. They even went so far as threatening to restrain her.

  They entered the building of the court and approached the doors to the great hall. She took a deep breath, trying to forget the drugged-out memories of the pain from earlier in the day, and walked through the doors.

  Kari’s heart was immediately relieved when she saw Amelie standing on the floor of the court, facing the three thrones. They were the only two in the room.

  “Amelie!” Kari said, mustering the energy to run over. With each step, she could feel a jolt of pain in her broken arm.

  Amelie said nothing and stared straight at Apollyon’s throne. Kari rounded to stand in front of her, noticing a massive bandage across her gut. Was that what she had to do to become enlightened?

  “Amelie?” Kari whispered, reaching out her hand to hold Amelie’s, but she flinched at the touch. “Are you alright?”

  “We are about to be in the presence of the God-King,” she said mechanically, standing straighter than she did before. “You should be in line.”

  Kari’s mouth melted into a hard line and she stepped back. He had gotten her. But she would get her back.

  Kari stood beside Amelie with the best posture she could muster in her broken state. She looked at her closely. Even though she now knew all the horrible things Apollyon could do, a part of her—the largest part, actually—wished she could have ended up like Amelie. Things had been simple when all she knew was the God-King and his ways. Now she didn’t know what to do.

  If she ascended, she would be in a perfect position to help Dane betray Apollyon. But was that what she wanted?

  The echoing of heels clicking into the room echoed as Xenophon came out from one of the smaller side entrances. The golden Highwings stitched into his long purple robes glistened in the evening sun that shone through the diamond ceiling. Another glint caught Kari’s eye and her gaze dropped to the crystal bowl he was carrying.

  Her heart fluttered and she couldn’t help but shuffle from foot to foot. There was Mímrvor.

  “Competitors,” Xenophon said, stopping in front of them. “Congratulations, you have both successfully completed the Enlightenment Trial. Lord Dane and Lord Salmond both failed and will not be returning for the ceremony.”

  Kari swallowed the lump in her throat. What had they done to Dane? Kari glanced over at Amelie; she stood there, stoic and emotionless, so unlike the person Kari had first met just two weeks ago. She turned back to Xenophon and stared at Mímrvor. She hadn’t cried since leaving the cell, but she knew if the first tear broke through, there would be no stopping the rest.

  “But only one of you can ascend.” Xenophon looked straight at her. Kari’s heart fluttered. Another set of footsteps echoed in the hall, and Kari’s head turned toward the same door Xenophon had emerged from.

  “I can carry on with the rest,” said a warm voice. It was a voice Kari recognized, and she was surprised how different it sounded here than it had in the dungeons. How different it was out loud versus in her head. “Thank you, Xenophon.”

  Xenophon dropped into a deep bow as Apollyon walked out of the doorway. Kari caught the briefest glimpse of white fading from his eyes. She looked from him to Xenophon. Her heart fluttered. Had he been wielding Xenophon all these years?

  Her hands trembled, she had been next to the God-King all along and hadn’t even realized.

  “Kari, Amelie,” he said, walking up to them with a smile that made the skin around his eyes crinkle and his cheeks dimple. He gripped Kari’s good arm as he walked past and did the same with Amelie before rounding back up to the throne. He twirled around to face them again. His brown hair grazed his shoulders and his skin was much too pale from spending so much time inside. A thin crown with a jewel inlet sat on his head; it swirled with the colour red, the colour of human blood. “You both have endured so much in these trials, and for that, I thank you deeply.”

  He sat on his regal throne, the largest of the three. Sitting there, in his extravagant robes and silver Highwings necklace, surrounded by the flowers on the throne’s pedestal, he looked beautiful. But he was certainly no more godly than any other human. Kari’s jaw clenched. The man was sadistic, and somehow he just floated out here like a saint, trying to fool her.

  “It is no easy task proving your worthiness to become a God. Much has to be sacrificed.” Apollyon turned to look at Kari, his twinkling eyes dancing in the light of the setting sun shining through the diamond rooftop. “Kari, kin of my kin, eleventh generation descendant of my sister, last of our holy bloodline.”

  Kari’s heart raced.

  “You have failed,” he said gently, leaning forward on his perch. “Your heart is too weak to do the work of a God. Being heir can be gruelling and gruesome, and I fear you are not up to the task… unprompted.” He paused, and Kari knew what he meant. She could be violent under his control—well, at least, he thought she could be—but she was not naturally a violent person. Without him there, threatening pain, she would be unable to perform. A wave of relief flooded over her. And then a flood of sorrow. How would she help Dane now?

  “But you have still proven yourself loyal,” Apollyon continued. He waved his ring-covered hand at Xenophon, who walked over to her with the crystal bowl in hand. Kari looked back up at the King, her hand wavering over the bowl with uncertainty.

  He nodd
ed his head.

  As soon as Kari’s fingertips touched Mímrvor, a vicious song ripped into her mind. It wasn’t painful, like the Vyvent’s, but it was terrible and shocking. Kari gasped and let go of Mímrvor, caught off guard by the booming music that sounded of death and suffering. He clinked as he fell back into the bowl. She looked straight at Apollyon, and the glowing jewel on his head, the source of the wicked noise. How could she have been deaf to this noise before?

  Apollyon’s dimpled smile turned into a hard line as his eyes narrowed. “It appears I was wrong about you, Kari.”

  This had been another test and she had failed. She made a move to grab Mímrvor out of the bowl, but Xenophon pulled it away quickly.

  Amelie was on her in the next moment, grabbing her by her broken arm and kicking at her knees. Kari fell to the floor, the sounds of her kneecaps hitting the ground echoing through the hall. Amelie grabbed a fistful of Kari’s hair and hoisted her up.

  “Amelie, please,” Kari whimpered.

  “Amelie.” Apollyon stood from his throne and walked towards them. “You have proven yourself above all others. You have proven yourself beyond compare, otherworldly even. Will you join me on my mission to rid the world of war and bring everlasting peace to our Kingdom?”

  “Yes, my God-King,” said Amelie as she bowed. She pulled Kari’s hair back further and Kari winced.

  “Then, with the High Historian here as my witness, I appoint you as my heir.” Apollyon turned his attention back to Kari. A glint of light shining off his Highwings necklace blinded her.

  “Now, get her out of my sight.”

  Chapter 51

  The Southern Sea, 1st Day of the Month of Fire, 1114 A.F.F.

  Ion’s eyes fluttered open as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He was rocking back and forth. Was he on a boat? He tried to focus on his surroundings. The room was dark but for a narrow shaft of light that made him squint. There was a man wearing a hood. Ion could hardly make out his face. He seemed familiar, though. More rocking. A gentle hand touched his forehead. Ion wanted to scream out, but he couldn’t. He was stuck, unable to muster the energy to call out. It was all too much, the searing pain in his shoulder was too much.

 

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