The Dreg Trilogy Omnibus

by Bethany Hoeflich

  “Miestryri, with respect, my duty is to keep you safe.” Silvano opened his mouth to protest, but Jax cut him off. “We need to get you back to the castle immediately. Now that the fleet has been taken, East Rock will be her destination. We must fortify it against attack.”

  He nodded reluctantly. It killed him to abandon the navy but losing the capital would be even worse. What he didn’t understand was how Arianna knew they’d be in the cove this morning. And where had she gotten the cannons? The only thing that made sense was… His eyes landed on Lord Pierce, who stood at the back of the group.

  “Lord Pierce.” Silvano took a shaking step forward. He placed a hand on Jax’s shoulder to steady himself before puffing out his chest. His voice rang out. “Just how long have you been working for Arianna?”

  The nobles gasped. Lord Pierce glanced over in apparent surprise, but Silvano knew better. It was the only thing that made sense. He had arranged the trade for the cannons, and he had close friends in the council. He had more than enough opportunity, but why? What could have possibly motivated him to commit treason?

  “Have you nothing to say in your defense?” Silvano asked, hoping he was wrong. It was incomprehensible that one of his strongest supporters was secretly working behind the scenes to undermine him. When Lord Pierce refused to speak, Silvano said, “Jax, take Lord Pierce into custody. We’ll take him back to East Rock for questioning.”

  At Silvano’s declaration, Lord Pierce’s lip curled. He struck his chest with his fist and jutted his chin upward. “Long live the one true Miestryri!”

  Before Jax could stop him, Lord Pierce slipped something in his mouth and swallowed. Within seconds, he collapsed to the ground, mouth frothing. Jax cursed under his breath. He raced over and pressed his ear to Lord Pierce’s chest. A few seconds passed, then he shook his head. “He’s gone.”

  Silvano lifted a fist to his mouth and bit down. He turned and let out a strangled cry. Lord Pierce was a traitor. He’d obviously orchestrated the entire morning, from gifting six cannons to the navy while smuggling many more to Arianna. Now, she controlled the fleet, leaving him with nothing. All his dreams of conquering the sea crumbled like sand through his hands.

  He took a deep breath. No matter how dire the situation, he couldn’t afford to fall apart right now. Jax was right. He needed to get back to East Rock before Arianna did.

  ***

  An hour later, Silvano limped through the streets of East Rock and up to the castle. Blood had soaked through his makeshift bandage, and the throbbing in his head threatened to render him unconscious. He wanted to go straight to the small council, but Jax insisted on finding a Healer first.

  He’d already sent the Nobles to their homes, sending each with two guards to ensure their safety. What he hadn’t said out loud was that he couldn’t trust a single one of them. If Lord Pierce had betrayed him, any one of them might have as well. Until their loyalty was proven, he would keep them all on a tight leash.

  “Sil!”

  Silvano’s eyes snapped to the entrance of the castle where six guards waited with Olielle standing between them. She flew down the steps and wrapped her arms around him. One of the guards tried to pry her away, drawing his cutlass. “Put that thing away before you kill someone, you ignorant seabass. I’m not going to hurt him.” To Silvano, she said, “You’re bleeding! What happened?”

  He returned the embrace, burying his face in her shoulder. “Ambush. Arianna took the fleet.”

  “What? How?”

  “Lord Pierce was a traitor.”

  “Pierce?” Olielle gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth. “Sil, I’m so sorry. I had no idea that he was false, I swear it.”

  “I know. You’re one of the few people I can trust now.” He pulled back and stared her in the eyes. “Don’t ever betray me.”

  “Never,” she swore. “Let’s get you inside and send for the Healer.”

  With an arm slung over their shoulders, Silvano let Olielle and Jax help him up the stairs, though he protested the former, saying a pregnant woman shouldn’t exert herself so much.

  She rolled her eyes and barked out a laugh. “I’m pregnant, not terminally ill. The exercise will make the baby stronger.”

  “But if anything happened…”

  She stiffened and pulled back. “Sil, there’s something you need to know.”

  Something about her tone set him on edge. “What is it?”

  Her eyes tightened as if she were worried that the news would upset him. “While you were away…”

  A guard raced into the room as they stepped inside the castle doors. “Miestryri, Lucan escaped.”

  Silvano stumbled. He gaped in horror at the guard. “What?”

  Olielle took his hand in hers and turned him to face her. “That’s what I was going to tell you. There was a riot in the market this morning, which diverted the guards from the castle. The timing was too perfect to be coincidental. We think they planned the rescue while you were away, and security was lax.”

  “And if I’d died during the attack, all the better.” He exchanged a grim-faced look with Jax. Maybe that had been Arianna’s plan. By eliminating her competition during the attack, no one would have stood in her way to claim the throne. The priests would have had no alternative but to anoint her in his stead.

  “We found this in his cell.” The guard held out a book. Silvano recognized it as the one Lucan had been reading when he visited.

  Silvano took it and opened the front cover. A scrap of paper slipped out and floated to the floor. Jax picked it up. His face tightened, and he handed it to Silvano. Your move. He crushed it in his hand and swore. He knew there’d been something off about the number of books Lucan seemed to be reading. He wasn’t reading them at all. He was smuggling out messages to the rebellion under their noses. But he hadn’t been working alone. “Where is the chambermaid, Beatrice?”

  “Missing.”

  “And Lucan’s usual guard, Davis?”

  “Dead, sire.”

  “They can’t have gone far. Send out search parties to find him. Take extra guards and do not underestimate them. It’s clear my sister is clever, and she will stop at nothing to see me unseated.”

  Silvano let Olielle lead him to his chambers to wait for the Healer. How had everything fallen apart so quickly? Just when he’d felt that he was gaining control of Crystalmoor, something happened to cut his legs out from under him. He thought of the last conversation with Lucan. The adviser had asked if he’d gone to visit Lord Maynard yet. It might be nothing more than a distraction, but something told him that he should speak to Olielle’s father soon.

  14

  The next morning, Silvano waited outside a white stucco mansion with arching windows and a walking path that serpentined around the house to the landscaped back yard. Creeping vines grew up the sides of the building, making it look like the house had emerged from the wild fully formed, rather than built by hand. A smile came unbidden to his lips. Olielle had always loved the vines and almost whimsical beauty of her childhood home. They would spend hours wading in the pond behind the house, skipping stones and trying to catch tadpoles and minnows.

  If only they could go back to those simpler times.

  He rapped on the door and waited until a servant answered. The servant led him through the house and into the study. Lord Maynard sat in his wheeled chair by the window. Silvano’s eyes went habitually to Lord Maynard’s missing leg—amputated at sea after a botched assault on the pirates—before coming to rest on his hardened face. If he’d noticed the staring, he didn’t show it, and Silvano knew better than to bring up the injury that had resulted in Maynard’s premature retirement from the navy. He was satisfied to see that the idle years hadn’t changed him much, apart from a larger potbelly and an ample number of gray hairs.

  “Miestryri, I was not expecting you.” He scratched the graying whiskers on his chin.

  Out of a lifetime of habit, Silvano fidgeted and bowed his head in respect. “I apolog
ize for not sending word ahead, but I had an urgent matter that could not wait.” He tilted his head toward an empty chair, expecting Maynard to ask him to sit. He didn’t.

  “I see. If you’re asking me to annul my daughter’s marriage, I’m afraid you’ll leave disappointed.”

  “No, no. Nothing of the sort. Olielle seems content with her new husband, and I will not be the cause of her pain by separating them. Speaking of which, it seems as though congratulations are in order.”

  Maynard relaxed infinitesimally, and his face broke out into a wide smile. “I’m looking forward to having little ones running around here again.”

  “I imagine it’s too quiet in here now.”

  “It is. Still, I can’t deny that the quiet has been refreshing. I’ll never tell Olielle this, but the two of you wore me out.” He chuckled under his breath. “So, what can I do for you?”

  “I have questions of a somewhat political variety.”

  “Well then, I believe this discussion requires a strong drink. Religion and politics should never be discussed sober. Jenny!” he called as he wheeled himself behind his desk.

  “Oh no. There’s no need to trouble your servants.” Silvano held up a hand and walked over to the beverage cabinet. “I’m happy to pour it myself.”

  “Good man. No doubt you’d like as few ears listening in as possible.” Maynard’s lips twitched.

  “Shrewd as ever. Now I know where Olielle gets it from.” Silvano pulled a decanter of vintage red and two glasses from the shelf. “Is the red okay, or would you prefer a white?”

  “The red is fine, so long as it wets my throat all the same.”

  “A man after my own heart.” Silvano poured the glasses to the brim and carried them over, holding one out for Maynard. “I would appreciate your discretion today. This is somewhat of a… delicate matter.”

  “Consider my interest piqued.” He took the glass from Silvano and took a long drought, licking the excess liquid from his lips. “What can I do for you?”

  “Before I begin, I must know—and I’m trusting your word as a gentleman here—are you allied with Arianna and Lucan?”

  “Your sister and the Miestryri’s advisor? Over my dead body! I don’t have anything against your sister personally, but Lucan is an eel. I wouldn’t trust him to lick the Miestryri’s boots, let alone help run a country.”

  Silvano took a polite sip. “It has recently come to my attention that my father named Arianna heir, rather than me. Lord Maynard, you were my father’s closest friend. Ever since you were boys, you were rarely apart. No one knew his mind better than you. Why?” His fingers tightened on the glass. “Why would he name my sister his heir when I am his eldest child?”

  Maynard sighed and ran a tired hand down his face. “I knew it was only a matter of time,” he said so softly, Silvano wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly. A crease formed between his eyebrows as he examined Silvano. He pressed a fist to his lips and nodded. “You should know. After all this time, you deserve to know the truth. The reason why Arianna was named heir, and not you, is because you are not his son.”

  The world fell from under Silvano’s feet, and the glass dropped from his hand to shatter on the floor, spraying wine everywhere. Lord Maynard was shouting something, but Silvano couldn’t hear a single word, as if he were speaking underwater. Silvano reached out to steady himself. “I don’t understand.”

  The servant, Jenny, bustled into the room and helped him to a chair. She knelt down of the floor to clean up the glass, but Lord Maynard waived her away. “Shut the door and stay away until I call for you.” When her footsteps faded, he asked, “Are you going to faint on me, boy?”

  The address snapped him out of his stupor. “No.”

  “Good. Because you’d be laying there until you came to.” He patted the stub of his leg. “You’d better have a seat. I expect you want to know the whole story.”

  Silvano didn’t remember walking across the room or sinking into the chair, but he ended up there all the same.

  “Arnoux and Emilio were brothers. Arnoux was the oldest by three years, and while many expected him to follow in his father’s footsteps as the next Miestryri, he wasn’t cut out for the responsibility. Where Emilio was aggressive and relished battle, Arnoux preferred to stay home, spending more time in the gardens or in the sea than in the war council. Though his Gift was more powerful than any we’d ever seen, he couldn’t stomach using it for violence. The Miestryri favored Emilio and showered him with praise and attention. He made a match, betrothing Emilio to a woman of extraordinary beauty and grace—Neva.”

  Silvano’s head snapped up at the sound of his mother’s name.

  “Years passed, and Emilio grew from adolescence to manhood. He spent more time at sea, battling the pirates and making himself into a legend. While he was gone, Arnoux and Neva developed a close friendship. Then the friendship blossomed into something more romantic. You only had to be in the same room for a moment before their love suffocated you. Emilio was too busy with his conquests to notice that his betrothed’s affections had been stolen. One day, Emilio returned from a voyage to find his Neva pregnant with his brother’s child. In a fit of rage, Emilio swore vengeance. The betrothal had been broken and our laws were clear. Emilio had every right to kill his brother and claim his bride. Neva pleaded for Arnoux’s life. She swore that she would be faithful to Emilio as long as they both lived if he spared his brother, sending him into exile instead. Emilio agreed, but he demanded that she take herbs to end the pregnancy and rid her womb of his brother’s spawn. Neva refused. She told him that if he forced her, she would fight him for the rest of her life. Each moment of every day, she would make his life miserable, and if she had the opportunity to escape, she would take it.”

  Silvano leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. His chest tightened, and his body went numb. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. And yet, it made a certain amount of sense. Why his father—no, not his father—had despised him from his earliest memories. As if understanding his inner turmoil, Maynard offered him a tight smile and slid his glass across the desk. Silvano picked it up and downed it in one mouthful, relishing the burn.

  Maynard continued, “They were married the next day. Lucan advised Emilio to keep the pregnancy a secret if he wanted to become Miestryri after his father. The people would not respect a cuckold. He planned on sending you away with your father into exile the moment you were born, but Neva took one look at you and fell in love. She would not be separated from you, not for a moment.”

  “Why?” Silvano whispered, the sound little more than a gasp in the wind.

  “Because she loved you. And the more she loved you, Emilio despised you equally, for you reminded him of his traitorous brother. It wasn’t so bad when you were a child, but as you grew, it became clear you inherited your father’s personality as well. When your mother died, you lost her protection. The Miestryri sent you to Kearar, hoping that you would die there, or perhaps wed the Rei’s daughter. When you returned, whole and healthy, he and Lucan resorted to desperate measures.”

  Silvano shook his head slowly. “You knew.”

  “I did.”

  He frowned, then lifted his gaze slowly. “Then… why did you agree to a betrothal between me and Olielle? If you knew that Arnoux was my father and that I’d never inherit the throne, it seems like a poor move on your part.”

  “That had little to do with me. Neva and my wife were the best of friends, and it was their wish that we unite our families. They had the agreement drawn before the two of you were out of swaddling clothes, and once it was signed, not even the Miestryri could break it. I’ll admit, when you were exiled, I seized on the opportunity to marry her into a more suitable arrangement.”

  “I can’t blame you for doing what you thought best for Olielle. I doubt you were happy about her being tied to a dead man with no claim to the throne,” Silvano said bitterly.

  Pity flooded the Lord’s face. “This must be a lot for y
ou to take in.”

  “A lot for me to take in?” His laughter sounded hysterical even to his own ears. “I just lost the navy to my sister, discovered a man who I’d thought was an ally was actually a traitor, and a dangerous prisoner escaped from the castle dungeon. Now, I find out that my father wasn’t actually my father. That my uncle sired me before being banished to gods only know where. Where is he? Is he still alive?”

  “I don’t know. The last time I saw him was before you were born when he boarded a ship heading east.”

  “He could be out there, somewhere.” Silvano stood abruptly, his chair screeching across the wooden floor. The walls closed in around him. He almost ran from the room, but a thought stopped him short. “Who else knows about my parentage?”

  “Only the Miestryri, Lucan, and myself.”

  “Swear yourself to secrecy.”

  Lord Maynard huffed, looking offended. “I’ve managed to keep my lips shut for the past twenty-six years.”

  He slammed his palms down on the desk and leaned forward. “Swear it!” In the back of his mind, he knew he was being unjustly harsh, but his emotions had gotten the best of him. Maynard leaned back in his chair, showing real fear for the first time. Silvano couldn’t help but feel ashamed, and he couldn’t bear to meet the man’s eyes.

  “I swear. I will not tell a soul what I’ve told you today.”

  “Good.” Silvano paused at the door. “Keep it that way.”

  15

  That afternoon Silvano perched on the edge of his decidedly uncomfortable throne. His shoulders sagged under the weight of the revelation. One hand lay limp in his lap, while the other traced circles around the sea glass in his forehead. He was an imposter. A usurper. A lifetime of planning and scheming for nothing. He had never been the heir—merely a fatherless parasite. After everything he’d been through, his sister was truly the one who was meant to be Miestryri. Arianna. The one true Miestryri.