Wrath Games

by B. T. Narro

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I bowed, shamefully aware that I was shirtless and sweating before his majesty.

  “I am glad to see you training so vehemently,” the king noted.

  Jaymes stood just behind Quince’s shoulder. The army commander, older than the young king by a good seven years, looked hard into my eyes. What did he want me to say? Oh, yes.

  “I’ve never had a greater mentor than Jaymes Jorgan.”

  “And how many mentors have you had helping you train with an illegal form of energy?”

  “None,” I answered with haste.

  “So that is not much of a compliment, is it?”

  “I meant…compared to…” I was floundering like a fish on land. “I just meant I couldn’t ask for a better teacher.” Jaymes looked as if he would punish me for that later.

  “Very well. You have licked his boots enough. I need an honest answer about Charlotte.”

  My throat threatened to close. “Yes, sire.”

  “Did you instruct her to leave?”

  What had Charlotte already told him? If I lied and he already knew the truth, I could be imprisoned. But if I told the truth, he would need to know why Terren wanted her to leave. That was a path that would lead to all sorts of trouble. I decided on something between the truth and a lie.

  “I did instruct her to leave because Terren told me to.”

  “Terren Polken, from Ovira?”

  “Yes.”

  “He told you, you, to tell Charlotte to leave.” Quince was incredulous. “Why would he do that?”

  “He wouldn’t say, but he seemed very trustworthy.”

  “Terren always seems trustworthy. Where and when did you speak with him?”

  “He rode into the castle soon after breakfast. I spoke with him in the outer courtyard.”

  Quince seemed skeptical as he glared. “Did you approach him?”

  “He approached me.” The cold night air chilled my damp back. I fought off a shiver.

  “I have begun to hear whispers about you.”

  “Whispers, sire?”

  “Rumors, hearsay, gossip, some clearly insidious, others…I cannot tell.” It was then I realized he’d been looking at me differently. Yesterday I was a new pet. Today I’d soiled the carpet. “It is being said that you are a liar, and now I am wondering if this is true.”

  How could I prove otherwise when I was in the middle of a lie?

  “Silence is tantamount to an admission of guilt.”

  Words shot out of my mouth. “There are things I’m holding back, but please allow me to explain.”

  “Go on.”

  “I’m involved in issues that are impossible to describe without sounding like a madman. These issues have no relation to your army or this war, but they will lead to murder if I do nothing. I want nothing more than to fight without worry, but these issues have forced me to be reserved for now. I know about the rumors. I am not a liar. I am not a thief. I am not a scoundrel in any shape or form. I know those kinds of men. I know the damage they do. I’d rather die than be one.”

  “Have you considered leaving?”

  “Never. I want to fight and win this war.”

  “Would you mind proving this?”

  “I’ll do anything.”

  Quince turned to Jaymes. “I think you are wrong. He is ready.”

  “Yes, sire.”

  Quince approached me, a fierce look in his eyes. “It saddens me that you cannot trust me with your troubles, but I will not force you to divulge them so long as you fight and obey orders. I feel it is imperative to warn you, though, that you will be marching into battle soon. Whatever affairs are left, I suggest you take care of them imminently, but do not leave the castle without Jaymes knowing one day in advance and coming with you. If you disobey any of his orders or do anything to cause him to distrust you, then you should hope that Terren will still take you to Ovira because the only life left for you here will be in a prison cell.”

  “I understand, sire. Thank you.”

  “Tomorrow morning you will be tested. I suggest you prepare yourself to do anything you are asked.”

  “I will.”

  “Lastly, I have become aware that you spent the last night in Shara Solo H’s room. I hope you enjoyed yourself because you are to lie in your own bed from now on. Intimate fraternizing is not allowed on castle grounds. The army serves to protect the kingdom, not to play with each other behind closed doors.”

  I felt like a child, too ashamed to even look at the king. “I understand.”

  “It has become difficult to trust you. Do yourself a favor and do not test me on this rule. I expect you to tell her whatever she needs to hear for her to understand it applies to her as well.”

  “Yes, sire.”

  “Rest well tonight. Tomorrow will be a difficult day.”

  I bowed. They turned their backs on me to leave before I’d risen.

  I passed by Shara’s room on the way to mine, the rip in my shirt letting cold air down my chest with each step. With painful difficulty, I knocked on her door and prepared to explain what the king had said.

  I hoped Swenn hadn’t done anything to her in my absence. I’d heard him plotting to scare us. Shara is strong, I reminded myself.

  She wasn’t answering. Could she be asleep already?

  I tried the door to find it locked. “Shara, it’s Neeko.” I knocked again.

  No answer.

  I didn’t want to wake her if she was asleep. I’d speak with her in the morning.

  As I neared my room, I realized I hadn’t seen Henry since I’d returned to the castle. Perhaps he was speaking with Swenn, telling him everything I did to thwart his plan. Swenn must be devising a new one. Or he already had one ready.

  I heard someone in my room—more than one person. A woman shrieked. A crash followed, possibly an explosion. A man yelped. I wrenched my door open to witness someone wearing a mask stabbing Shara, two rapid strikes to the side of her stomach. She uttered a cry, grabbing at him but falling backward.

  The wand spilled out of her hand before she hit the ground hard. The masked man ran for the window and leapt out as I reached Shara. Her wounds were near each other, both deep. She pressed her hands against them, blood flowing freely around her palms…a lot of blood.

  “I shot him in the right arm!”

  “Shara, you need help right away!”

  Shock doubled the size of her eyes. “Oh my gods.”

  Suddenly, we were both painfully aware that she could die. I pressed my hands over hers. “Help!” I yelled over my shoulder out my open door.

  Why was no one coming in? “Someone help!” I screamed as loudly as I could.

  Shara was too scared to speak. The blood kept coming.

  “Lift your hands,” I told her. “I’m going to put a ring of py around you.”

  She did.

  Men I didn’t recognize hovered around my doorway. “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s been stabbed,” I said as I gathered py. I stretched it out and pushed it hard against her wounds. She groaned with her teeth clenched as I apologized. I sat her up and wrapped the py around her. The energy reddened around the deep gashes in the side of her abdomen, but it seemed to contain the blood well. “Where do I take you?” I got my arms beneath her, my mind holding the py around her torso.

  “Nurse Mayla. Her room is—” She heaved as if about to vomit, then screamed like a woman in labor. Her arms started to shake, then her whole body.

  I cursed as I hoisted her off the ground. “Where is Mayla’s room?” I screamed.

  The men looked pale and frightened. “Last door at the other end of the hall.” One pointed as he moved out of the way.

  I ran, Shara convulsing in my arms. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Was the py too tight? No, that couldn’t be it.

  “Shara, can you hear me?”

  Her eyes stayed open as her body trembled, but her mind seemed to be somewhere else. People came out of their rooms as I ran by. S
oon the whole castle would hear of her stabbing. Good. She needed all the help she could get.

  Mayla’s door wouldn’t open. I kicked hard. “Shara’s been stabbed! She’s convulsing.”

  Mayla pulled open the door. She’d taken in Laney to help her adapt, and sure enough the one-armed pyforial mage was there in bed, sitting up with the covers pulled to her chin. I wouldn’t have recognized her even if I’d known she’d be here. Her dark brown hair was now light, after washing the dirt out, I supposed. Straight and trimmed, it stayed clear of a face that didn’t appear as gaunt as before.

  “Put her there.” Mayla pointed to a bed that must’ve been hers. The sheets were peeled back, the pillow rumpled. I set Shara down and Mayla ripped the sheets from their hold beneath the bed to examine Shara’s body.

  “What…?” Mayla muttered, feeling the belt of py.

  “Pyforial energy,” I explained, “to keep the blood in.”

  “Let it go.”

  I trusted her. Shara continued to shake, the sight unbearable, yet I couldn’t look away.

  Mayla peered closely into the wounds. “The dagger must’ve been coated with poison.” She spoke calmly, looking languid as she glanced about her room. I managed to refrain from slapping some hurry into her, screaming instead.

  “What do we need to do!”

  “I don’t have what I need here. Put that ring of py back around her and carry her. We’re going to the medical room.”

  Not expecting Laney behind me, I accidentally bowled her over with a still shaking Shara like a battering ram.

  I expected the gossamer young woman to burst into tears, but she jumped up instead. “I want to help Shara.”

  Laney stayed with me as I followed Mayla out of her room. The plump woman was slow but at least she seemed to be in a hurry now, huffing and nearly tripping around turns.

  I heard someone’s door open behind us. “What’s wrong?” the man shouted.

  Laney turned and yelled back, “She’s dying! It’s poison.”

  “Shut up!” I screamed with rage. “She’s not dying.”

  But she was. Her eyes had closed, her shaking now sporadic as if her life force was ebbing away. We got her into the medical room and onto an examination bed. Open cabinets filled by colorful potions in glass bottles lined the walls. Mayla went for none of them, examining Shara’s wounds instead.

  “Remove the energy,” Mayla ordered. “I need another look.”

  I did and she lifted Shara’s shirt nearly to her chest. The sight of her exposed stomach, which I’d held many nights, prompted a visceral need to touch her. I grabbed her hand, hoping to feel movement in her fingers. There was none.

  “Put the energy back over the wounds.”

  After I’d done it, Mayla instructed, “Feed the hearth and get it lit.”

  I acquiesced, putting in wood and then grabbing a torch from the sconce outside to light it.

  Mayla put her ear over Shara’s mouth. “She’s still breathing, but I need to stop the bleeding.”

  “What about the poison?”

  “I’m working on that.” She examined Shara from her face down to her feet. She even held the tips of Shara’s fingers up to her eyes.

  Laney cried. “Is she dead?”

  Anger nearly made me lose control over the py covering Shara’s wounds. “Laney!”

  “No,” Mayla answered. “Go back to our room, dear.”

  “I want to stay till she recovers or dies.”

  “Will you shut up!” I yelled.

  Laney gasped.

  “Both of you keep quiet. Neeko, put the rod into the fire. Get the tip red.”

  It then occurred to me how Mayla would close Shara’s wounds.

  “I can’t figure out which poison it is,” Mayla said. “There are no markings on her body, and her wounds look normal.” She hurried over to a cabinet. “I’ll need to use innocuous substances to help her body fight against it. Let’s hope that’s enough.”

  The hour that followed was possibly the most difficult of my life. Mayla tried a number of mixtures; a few she poured into the wounds, but most Shara had to drink. The fact that she had enough energy to cough and gag gave me hope. But I fell back into despair soon after Mayla finished cauterizing Shara’s wounds.

  She screamed during the process and passed out, unable to wake up. Laney wailed. I yelled at her. She cried. Mayla castigated me, then fell into a chair, sweat darkening her shirt.

  Shara worsened. She wheezed with each breath and grew pale. Sometimes she shook, a spasm here and there.

  Then she made no noise at all. Mayla jumped up and lowered her ear over Shara’s mouth.

  “Is she dead?” Laney asked meekly.

  “No. The wheezing has stopped.”

  Why did the nurse sound sad? “Isn’t that good?”

  “I don’t know yet, but I’ve done everything I can. We’ll let her rest. You should as well, both of you.”

  “I’m not leaving her,” I said.

  “You can’t stay here. There’s nowhere for you to sleep.”

  I noticed two stools along the wall. I grabbed one and pulled it to the side of Shara’s bed and took her hand. Laney mimicked me, moving her stool to Shara’s other side and taking her other hand.

  It was well into the night when exhaustion started to win over, nearly causing me to fall off my stool. Shara was wheezing again, louder than before.

  Mayla stirred and rose from her chair to examine Shara. “Her body’s not winning the fight,” she muttered. “She’s dying.”

  “Then try other antidotes,” I said.

  “I can’t give her antidotes to every poison imaginable. They’ll kill her faster than the poison.”

  “Then guess which one it is based on what you know. She’s dying anyway!”

  “I’m not trained in counteracting illegal poisons! There’s no way to guess!”

  “Don’t yell,” Laney complained.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “We need a clue of some kind. If I knew the poison, I might have a better chance of getting the antidote right.”

  I thought about searching my room where the attack took place, but what could I possibly find? A better idea came to mind. I stood over Shara. Her strained breaths sounded painful.

  “Shara, I’m not sure if you can hear me but you’ve been poisoned, we’re not sure with what. We need your help. Is there anything you can tell us?”

  I lowered my ear right over her mouth. I thought I heard something between her weak breaths.

  “Lofe…lofe…lofe.”

  Love…her words pulled at my heart. I felt my throat start to close as a powerful sadness took hold of me.

  “Is she speaking?” Laney asked.

  “She’s just saying love.” I moved my hand down her cheek.

  “Move, you fool!” Mayla threw me out of the way and leaned over Shara. “That’s not love, it’s lofe!” She spun, frantically glancing at the cabinets. “Gods, that’s more than a clue. Neeko, take this.” She snapped off a key from a ring of them and slapped it into my hand. “The library. Go through the back door. Look for a book by Yailee Haygrin. Any book by her about poisons.”

  “I don’t understand what I’m doing.”

  Laney jumped. “I don’t understand, either!”

  “Lofe is a poison. I don’t know the antidote but it’ll be in any of Yailee’s books. You can run faster than I can, so go. Go!”

  I ran, my torn shirt sliding off my shoulder, my shoes threatening to slip and send me flying.

  “Neeko, wait!”

  What? I gave a quick look over my shoulder. Laney was sprinting after me in her nightgown and bare feet, slow as an old mule.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The doors to the library were closed and locked. Laney was somewhere far behind me, probably lost and crying. She’d understand later when I had a chance to explain that I didn’t have time to wait for her.

  I tried the key Mayla gave me. It worked. A lamp glowed from
somewhere between the rows of bookshelves. I wasn’t alone.

  I ran as someone walked out toward the empty library chamber. To my dismay, Storell Ampart appeared, his shoulders hunched over a crossbow aimed straight at me.

  “You!” he croaked.

  I stopped and put out my hands. “Someone has been poisoned. I’m just here for—”

  “I distinctly said you cannot enter my library!”

  What kind of old man kept a crossbow nearby while browsing through books? I figured it had to be someone willing to use it.

  “A woman is going to die unless I get a book.”

  “There is no sense in that, you liar. I will shoot you if you don’t leave.”

  I prepared to disarm the old man, hoping his finger wasn’t twitchy enough to hit the trigger the moment he felt movement. But as I gathered energy, the crossbow was plucked out of his hands.

  “What,” Storell grunted, the weapon hovering past me. Laney’s one arm reached out and caught it.

  “These are very dangerous things!” She released the arrow into the wall. Panting, she threw the crossbow into an aisle and ran to me.

  We sprinted together to the back of the great library. I saw no signs of anyone else and readied my key for the back door.

  “He’s going to retrieve the crossbow by the time we return,” I realized.

  “So I’ll take it again,” Laney said.

  It wouldn’t be as easy as she made it seem.

  As I inserted the key into the back door with clumsy haste, I heard a scramble of some sort from within, people speaking and scattering in panic. I opened the door. A glass bowl wide enough to fit a baby slammed against the ground, water splashing out of it. Swenn and his squire stood bumbling by one of four wooden tables surrounded by benches. Cases of books lined the walls except in back, where a path descended into darkness.

  Swenn stepped backward in shock, cursing as he stumbled over his squire slipping on the water. I raised my arm, thinking only one thing. He was responsible for the attack on Shara.

  Anger fueled my focus as I wrapped the ring of py around Swenn’s neck. His surprise was gone, replaced by fury as he pried at my invisible noose, his expression like a bull held by a leash. As spit spewed out from behind his clenched teeth, his face became crimson.