by Jackson Lear
“She was just stirring up trouble,” whispered Gaynun, the youngest of the vanguard. He hadn’t yet been able to grow a moustache but he was determined to make it happen. One day. I would bet that even at forty you could mistake him for a scraggly kid.
“And she could’ve been lying,” said Jarmella.
“You don’t know that,” said Saskia.
“Neither do you.” On it went, half of us spooked and reading too much into a seer’s babblings, the other half keeping our troubles to ourselves.
Alysia left Loken’s side and came to me instead. “How are you?”
Apparently my troubles weren’t supposed to remain my own. “Say the word.”
“No.”
“A better word than that.”
“No, and especially when people can listen in from afar: No.” Her mahogany eyes shimmered in the dull firelight from the middle of the room. “We’re not jeopardizing anyone’s life, not after only one meeting.”
“You’re sure there will be another?”
“Yes.”
“He’s not exactly experienced in Isparian negotiations.”
“No, but we got the measure of each other and he has something to think about. We could have a legion of soldiers here at the start of spring, a hundred catapults built by summer, and a whole city’s worth of stone buildings that can be broken down and rained upon the castle for years to come.” Her eyes softened towards me, making me wish all the more that I wasn’t surrounded by her father’s most loyal soldiers. Loyal to him, that is, and possibly holding onto orders concerning me that Alysia wasn’t aware of. “I want you to know that I’m not leaving you behind.”
“Where did that come from?”
“Desdola.”
“Come on.”
“She said you were going to die on a black shore.”
“She didn’t say when, or how, or even where. There’s thousands of miles of black shore here.”
Alysia fell into a pained silence as she tried to gather the right combination of words.
“Don’t.”
“It’s just …”
“I’m not dying on some stupid black shore. All she did was babble some bullshit to get under our skin and it worked. She might be no seer at all and simply did some research before we got here. All those bearded assholes in there are probably laughing themselves stupid at how easy it is to scare us. Do we have any proof that she’s telling the truth? No. So no need to worry about it.”
“She gave us proof and you know it.”
“What, your soul being fractured in two?”
“Among other things.”
“Maybe I should stab her in the chest to see if she really can see things from afar. Although even a blind person would see that coming. Then again she is blind …”
Alysia didn’t seem to be in the mood to humor me.
“You really think you’re going to get another meeting?” I asked.
“Yes. That one was to save face. The second will be because he’s thought over our position. He’ll have listened to his people and he’ll be interested to see exactly how far we are willing to go to establish peace.”
“Can you really offer any of that?”
“Sort of,” she said, with a heavy dose of personal turmoil added into the mix.
“You mean privately you can?”
“For a while, maybe. The Kaseras might be able to finance a peace deal but doing so with an enemy warlord is going to bankrupt us before we see much benefit in our deal.”
“What about the Lavartas?”
“Both families are what the senators in Ispar would consider ‘low wealthy.’”
“So it’s cheaper to overthrow a king than to negotiate with one?”
“Always.”
“Good to know.” I pulled Mikael away from the fire pit. “Give us some good news.”
His voice cracked in bewildered defeat. “We’re trapped.”
“What did you see and who did it?”
We must’ve been black blobs silhouetted in darkness for all the squinting he threw our way. “One of Agnarr’s sons.”
That brought us to a standstill.
“Right now he’s … well …”
“How did Draegor get so many nobles here in so little time?”
“It’s the Golden Moon time.”
“Taxes?”
“Yeah. Everyone who’s had a harvest pays tribute, everyone who went on a raid pays a portion of their takings. At this time the king usually tells everyone what the forthcoming year will look like, where bountiful raids were, and everyone has a chance to air their grievances about other families before winter settles in.”
“And Agnarr sent his son?” asked Alysia.
“Johnan. His heir.”
I looked to Alysia, wondering if she was going to give the order.
Mikael carried on, oblivious to our silent conversation. “Usually, though, it’s something of a harvest madness, when every noble clamors to give Draegor more than someone else, lest they be thrown from the roof of the castle for not pulling their weight. People send spies from one tribe to another to figure out how much everyone is giving so they can adjust accordingly. No one wants to be the lowest provider. No one wants to be the highest, either.”
“Why not the highest?”
“Because next year they’re expected to be the highest again.”
“Did you see anyone else you recognized?”
“Some I’ve met briefly, some I’ve seen, the rest I’ve heard about. There’s forty two noble houses up here and they’re all loosely related to Draegor and the House Scoridge. Cousins of cousins of cousins, that sort of thing.”
“I counted thirty nine potential noble leaders.”
“Me too,” added Zara. “Including Draegor.”
I kept an eye on Alysia, waiting for the command.
“There’s more at stake than just us,” she said, through a shudder of heartfelt agony.
“We have thirty one soldiers within two hundred yards of the man we’re trying to overthrow.”
“And there are thirty nine warriors in our way, plus however many mercenaries, retainers, or guards they have at their disposal. I need another meeting with Draegor.”
I readied a retort.
She glared back at me, putting me in my place.
Zara looked to Mikael. “Can you tell us who else was there? Someone who can help us?”
Mikael trembled as he spoke. “I don’t know … I mean, I didn’t even know about his psychic.”
“Don’t worry about her for now.”
“Sure, I mean, let’s just ignore the woman who can read minds and see our futures …” He sighed, still jittery with nerves. “Okay, there’s Brienna of Velnick. Blond. Good looking. Like, ridiculously good looking. She got married six … no, eight … wait, nine? Nine years ago. There were three duels that night because everyone thought she should marry them, but these weren’t exactly civilized duels or authorized by the king so the winners were thrown off the top of the tower.”
“Good. What’s her political persuasion?”
“Her what?”
“Would she like us more than Draegor?”
“Well, no. Everyone here hates you more than him.”
“Then at the very least, does she hate the alliance? Does she want Draegor gone?”
“From what I’ve heard she’s not much of a thinker. She’s not dumb, she’s just not all that ambitious.”
“Then let’s have a look at the cunning people for now. Who was there?”
Mikael regaled us once more. For someone who didn’t recognize anyone in our meeting he sure did have a surprising amount of knowledge on who was who and what they were famous for. Alysia, Zara, and Loken helped to lock in on their identity and who was standing next to who, which helped more than I expected. Two houses often had quarrels and no one would want to stand next to someone they despised if they could help it, so from that we figured out that Skaven of Wren was the forty year old wi
th a thick black beard as opposed to Temok of Bront who was the forty two year old with a thick black beard, officially first cousins and unofficially rumored to have the same father.
Mikael’s stories were not short but they were thorough. After a couple of hours he had finally detailed everyone he could think of who might’ve been at our interrogation.
“Thank you, Mikael,” said Alysia. No one else dared say a word.
I retreated to the far end of the fire pit, tired of facing everyone as they took a leak. Alysia sidled up next to me. “I can’t let you do something stupid like trying to rescue Johnan.”
“I know. But it would help you with Agnarr if we ever get out of here.”
“I know. In the mean time I’ll do what I can to negotiate Johnan’s release.”
“I’m sure you will.”
She peered at me, trying to read me like a scroll. “You don’t have to try to make up for every misdeed in your past by going overboard and rescuing everyone.”
“It’s not that. It’s the job. We came to help Agnarr so he could help us. Right now his kid is probably screaming his head off, wishing for death. If we can do something about that it will help Agnarr help us. Hell, Agnarr would be forever in your debt. And it will make Draegor look weak if we rescued Johnan out from under his nose.”
“With no weapons, no equipment, and just your wits?”
“Give me one hour with Zara and we could do it.”
Alysia shook her head at me. “I can’t. As much as I hate saying it, this is a diplomatic mission first, a military mission second, Zara’s mission third, and your mission last. That’s the chain of command here.”
I’ve been hit before. In the face a few times. In the gut plenty. The balls more than I cared to admit. Even a few times in my soul, my pride, and my conscience. Somehow, that one hit worse than all of the above.
“That’s fair,” I said.
Her eyes cracked, refusing to give up. “Please know that it is killing me.”
I warmed my hands by the flickering fire. Caught a few cold looks from the troops. “I never expected to see the army – let alone members of a general’s vanguard – get so easily rattled.”
Alysia sighed and dropped to a whisper. “You have a reputation. And they’re afraid of you because of it.”
“They’re afraid of me?”
“Probably more so now that they’ve met Draegor.” She shrugged at my not-too-subtle glare. “I don’t think you’re like Draegor.”
“Your father’s best of the best really think that mercenaries and warlords are no different? That we all make a living from terrorizing others, robbing anyone who’s weaker than us, prepared to kill anyone who stands in our … okay, I see it.”
“The army has a particular view point when it comes to mercenaries.”
“I know.”
“I’m not sure you really do.”
“Some of my best friends were ex-soldiers. I know. We take deserters, murderers, and thieves and hone their skills into becoming better criminals.” I glanced over the faces within the dungeon. Few caught my eye. Most gave me a second look, but it was followed by them turning away and being acutely aware that I was watching them.
“You used to rattle people for a living, didn’t you?” asked Alysia.
“Yeah.”
“Basically, you terrified someone into cooperating with you.”
“It wasn’t a forgone conclusion that it would work, but yeah.”
Alysia’s eyes shimmered by the flames. “Did you enjoy it?”
“I enjoyed being good at it.”
“That’s it, then. These people here are army. They’ve been trained to serve to the point of death. You’ve been trained to terrify.”
“Perhaps. But it wasn’t just deserters, murders, and thieves who taught me what it was like to be afraid and – later – how to terrify people.”
She fell quiet. It was nice. Of course that ended when she glanced back at me. “When I came over you had that look, like your gut is telling you that you saw something and your mind is trying to do your gut a favor by searching again for something you’ve covered a dozen times already.”
“I must have oddly specific looks.”
“Is it true?”
I shrugged. “I was thinking about that seer. She apparently told Draegor that Agnarr was plotting against him, yet Agnarr is still alive. From everything we’ve heard, Draegor is not the kind of person who would allow that, so what’s going on?”
“Maybe Desdola has been watching us as well and Draegor wanted to trap us both. There could be another plan at work here.”
I remained quiet.
“You don’t think so?”
“Not sure. I was watching the crowd when Draegor mentioned Agnarr by name. The nobles Mikael described didn’t seem caught off guard but the mercenaries did. There were a few glances for confirmation and a couple of nods from those in the know. But there were some grimaces from the nobles, like it was a recent discovery.” I drew in a deep breath, a knot forming in my stomach; whispering that we may be more at fault here than I cared to admit. “Is there any chance you brought some letters with you that mentioned Agnarr by name? Or Faersrock in particular?”
A ghost seemed to slip through Alysia’s soul as her features dropped into place. Her mouth hung open in dismay, her eyes cracking with defeat.
“Right. So there’s a pretty good chance that Draegor knew someone was plotting against him, he just didn’t know who. Not until he went through our stuff.”
An audible groan escape Alysia as she covered her face with her hands. “They took something else as well. A letter for you.”
“From?”
“Día.”
It was my turn to groan.
“And a drawing from Kel.”
“Oh, gods. Why?”
“Because you’ve avoided all contact with them for a year and they want to know why.”
“I met them once.”
“A significant once since it unquestionably changed their lives for the better. It’s also the main reason the vanguard here trust you.”
“I can tell when you’re lying, you know.”
“It’s not a lie.”
“In that case I’m willing to bet that your father’s people distrust me because of exactly what happened to Día.”
Alysia nodded towards several members of the vanguard. “Loken has been teaching her how to ride. Berik has been helping Kel improve his drawing. Odalis has been telling them jokes that neither should repeat in polite company. Saskia has got them working on their high Isparian.”
“And what about your father?”
“He’s given them a place to live and work to do.”
“I meant about me. We’re a long way from home and we’re surrounded by people who will suffer a terrible fate if they disobey his orders.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
I glanced towards Zara. “He has an assassin on his personal payroll.”
“That’s not all she does.”
I returned to the fire, provoking Alysia into a response.
She lowered her head, covering her mouth from anyone who might be listening in. “Before we rode off they had a meeting. Just the two of them. That’s not uncommon. Both of them have refused to tell me what it was about. Again, that’s not uncommon. But what I do know is that he didn’t want you to come with me until he and Zara spoke. After that he gave me your authorization to give to Auron. Loken might say that you are the worst person to have up here in case anything went wrong but my father seems to disagree.”
“So when something goes wrong …?”
“Me first. Loken second. Zara third. You fourth.”
A heavy thump, thump reverberated across the wooden door. Someone’s fist calling for our attention. We waited. Twenty sets of leather armor gnawing and creaking in our cold, barren holding cell.
A scream. A man’s, desperately crying out, “No! No! NOOOOO!” before it fell into a terrified shrie
k, louder and louder, until another thump silenced it in an instant.
The beam was lifted free. The door swung open. The bear peered inside, growling something in his northern tongue.
Mikael wiped his brow with a trembling hand. “The king will see us again. Me and you.”
Lying in the courtyard just a few feet away lay the bloodied heap of a body, one who had just been thrown to his death from the top of the castle.
The bear snapped again.
“M’lady, please …”
“I thought I made myself very clear,” said Alysia, to the bear.
He snarled at her. Grunted a threat.
Mikael hurried to Alysia. “He said the crew will be next if we don’t hurry. All of them. Please.”
“Very well,” said Alysia. She glanced back to me. “I can do this.” She marched through the doorway, leg’s shaking, into the open, and past Agnarr’s dead son.
Chapter Seven
It was easy to lose track of time in a windowless dungeon with winter upon us. Apparently if we went far enough north the sun didn’t rise for months at a time. I’m still not quite sure how that works but it helps to explain why the vampires love it here. Then again, the sun is also supposed to stay up all day in the summer. Perhaps vampires migrate. Or they live underground. Who knows.
Zara went from leaning against the cold brick wall to pacing, working off a nervous energy as the one person she was supposed to protect was no longer in her sight. The rest of the troops separated into small groups. Sat. Lay down. Tried to get comfortable but finding it impossible to do so. Most of us huddled by the glowing embers in the middle of the room.
Loken held his position by the door with Saskia, the eyes to the outside world, and Lindum, the ears.
“Are we sure that’s a noble on the ground?” asked Loken.
Saskia shifted her angle. “Hard to tell. He landed face down. Dark hair. Fur cloak. No weapons on him.”
“Shh!” snapped Lindum.
Loken and Saskia fell silent.
“‘That’s what traitors get,’” translated Lindum. He froze, leaned back with annoyance, and took the listening wire away from his ear. “They know we’re watching them.”
“So keep watching,” said Loken. He trotted over to the shit-hole, where Helga was staring through a similar silver wire to Saskia’s. “Anything?”