by R. J. Blain
Maiten grunted. “You know the answer to that as well as I do, Kalen. You’d be the Rift King as well as Kelsh’s rightful king. Considering who you are and who you once were, no one, not even the Council of the Six, could dispute your rightful claim to Kelsh’s throne. All you need is proof of Aelthor’s attempted regicide.”
~We have proof,~ Satrin said, shoving his golden, antlered head inside, startling Kalen into retreating away from the tent flap. ~Yadesh are truthseers. Any truthseer worth his or her keep can verify my words before the Council. You could take King Aelthor’s head, crown, and daughter without any fear of retaliation.~
Kalen pinched the bridge of his nose. “How much did you hear?”
~All of it, of course,~ was the Yadesh’s smug reply.
“Hellfires.”
~Princess Tala wouldn’t kill you.~ The stallion flicked an ear back. ~She’ll just make you wish she would.~
“Thrice-curse and sand-blast her.”
“Be nice,” Maiten chided.
~Captain Silvereye wishes to see you, Your Majesty, and asked me to fetch you.~
Kalen groaned. “Can this day get any worse? Wait, don’t answer that. Of course it can. Lead the way, Satrin.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Captain Silvereye was laughing at him, and Kalen didn’t understand why. Amusement lit the Mithrian’s mismatched eyes, partnered with the man’s shameless grin.
“I don’t understand what is so funny,” Kalen said when Silvereye didn’t speak.
The command tent was empty save for them. Silvereye was perched on one of the stools next to the table. “Sit down and relax, Blackhand. You look like you’re expecting your execution.”
Kalen sank down onto a stool. “I’ll confess I’m surprised Parice didn’t skin me alive.”
Silvereye’s grin widened. “Don’t tell him I said this, but I think he was pleased by the development. I wouldn’t exactly say the woman you laid out, Anrille, is a bad person, but she’s sent more than her fair share of men to the healers when they’ve implied women can’t serve as equals in the company. She doesn’t seem able to distinguish the difference between men mocking her or discriminating against her versus those unwilling to injure an ally. So, she does more harm than good, roughing others up to prove her worth. I expect she thought she could make an example out of you.”
Clacking his teeth, Kalen considered the Mithrian’s words. “Has she tried to make an example out of you?”
“Once. I told her if she tried to undermine my authority again, I’d send her packing to Mithrias as an unaffiliated free hire.” With a shrug, Captain Silvereye turned his attention to the parchments scattered in front of him.
“And you let her get away with that? Is she one of those I’ll be in charge of?”
“Do you want her?”
Kalen frowned. “It depends.”
“On?”
With a shrug, he replied, “If she were mine, she’d have to prove she was worth her spot. How far is she willing to go to do that? I won’t tolerate such behavior, not under my command. That sort of thing gets people killed. It’s why we have the Code. Duels with sticks? That’s fine. Everyone walks away alive. Sneak attacks from behind? It’s unacceptable.”
Kalen frowned, resisting the urge to rub the back of his neck. He didn’t want to think about it, but before he had thrown her, he’d felt something scrape against his skin. The First had, for a moment, been alarmed. Then the creature had settled, unimpressed by the woman’s efforts. Anrille had tried to do something more than grab him.
But why? The First knew, but the creature refused to enlighten him.
He wasn’t certain if he wanted to share his suspicion with his co-captain. Thinking about it was enough to unsettle him.
“She’s an extremely talented archer,” Captain Silvereye replied in a neutral voice.
“How talented?”
“She’s the best I’ve ever seen. If you can control her, she’s an asset in battle. I have never seen her miss her target. You must understand, Blackhand, it isn’t easy for women in mercenary companies. I lynch rapists in the Crimson Eye. If they’re lucky, I blacklist them, tie them up, and abandon them somewhere for the vultures to find, letting them die the slow death they deserve. Most of the women with us are from other companies without such rules.”
It took all of Kalen’s will to avoid tensing. Smothering his growing anger, he nodded.
“The same applies to both men and women. I’ve two truthseers in the company. False accusers and rapists are punished in equal measure, without exception.”
“Good.”
“I don’t suppose I need to give your Guardians the speech, do I?”
“If you want to explain what rape is to them, by all means, be my guest. I’ll watch while you do it,” Kalen said, unable to keep the smug satisfaction out of his voice.
Captain Silvereye jerked his head up and stared at him with wide eyes. “What?”
“There isn’t a word for rape in the Rifter language, Silvereye, not anymore. There was a term for it from before the Covenant, but it doesn’t have any meaning anymore.”
“How is that possible? Rape isn’t usually about the sex, not really. It’s about power over another person.”
Kalen chewed on his thumbnail as he considered how to address the issue. “When most men and women enjoy each other’s company simply because someone offered an invitation, where is there power? Sex is as commonplace as food for them. I know fewer than ten couples pledged to each other as permanent pairings.”
“I don’t think I understand,” Silvereye replied.
With a sigh, Kalen wondered why he always ended up having to explain the Rift’s activities to Outsiders. “Let’s assume we’re in the Rift, and you see a lady you’d like to bed. You’d invite her—maybe a few of her friends, too—to the spearing caves. More likely than not, they’ll agree. Yes, they’ll agree. They might even ask some of your friends to join you. It’s a sport, Silvereye. It’s a very public sport. A mare in foal is sacred, be she human or horse. It’s in the Code, too, but it’s one of those clauses most don’t understand. I haven’t seen a record of it happening in hundreds of years. There’s only one way to gain power through sex, and it’s…”
Kalen’s face burned, and he shut his mouth with a clack of his teeth.
“It’s what?”
He sighed, long and heavy. “If you bed the Rift King, you’re a Queen. That’s why Arik had so many Queens. He enjoyed his time in the spearing caves far more than he should have.”
“And you have none.”
“No is a powerful word in the Rift, Silvereye. It’s respected.”
Drumming his fingers against the table, Captain Silvereye watched him with narrowed eyes. “Interesting. What do you think would happen if one of your Rifters saw a woman being raped?”
Kalen flinched. “Breton’s been to Kelsh enough times that he knows what rape is. He’d put an end to it. I suspect the rapist wouldn’t be touching another woman ever again once Breton was finished with him.”
“And Maiten?”
“We’d be counting how many pieces Maiten left the rapist in once he figured out what was happening. He’s seen a rape victim before, though he doesn’t, so far as I know, really understand what happened to her. I keep Maiten assigned to Mithrias, where his mare keeps him quite busy when he’s not in the Rift.”
Silvereye nodded. “Rape is common, but it’s a secret shame among my people. It happens, but most won’t talk about it.”
“Exactly.”
“This could be problematic.”
“It isn’t a problem so long as it isn’t one of ours doing it, Silvereye. May their deity have mercy on them, because we won’t.”
“You as well, Blackhand?”
“As well? I’d be among those handling the executions, and gladly.”
“Good. Now, about Anrille. Do you want to deal with her? It’s within your rights to have her chastised or removed from the company. Fra
nkly, she could be put to death for what she’s done.”
Kalen grumbled a rude remark under his breath. “Wasn’t breaking her arm chastisement enough?”
“No. You need to demand respect, Blackhand.”
“Posturing, just what I wanted. Very well. I’ll think of something. If she’s such a good archer, then Parice will need to heal her arm. It’s tempting to let her run around in a cast for a while to serve as a reminder of her idiocy, though.”
“I wouldn’t argue with that.”
“Is she any good at teaching others?”
“She’s taught many of the women archery, yes. She’s quite patient when she wishes to be.”
Kalen considered Kelsh’s princess and his blood family, and then he started to grin. Could he arrange things to accomplish several goals at one time? Anrille’s punishment didn’t need to hurt her—much—and if Kalen could arrange for some much-needed education for the Kelshite princess, it’d work even more in his favor. “Good. I think I have an idea, then.”
“What is your idea?”
“You’ll see.”
“You’re a very frightening man when you say that.”
Unable to help himself, he grinned. “Want to watch?”
“I’d pay good coin for the right. This work will keep for a while. Do show me what you have in mind, Blackhand.”
~~*~~
Breton found Captain Silvereye walking through the camp side-by-side with the Rift King.
“Breton,” his foal greeted with a smirk.
Jerking to a halt, he first stared at Kalen before turning his wary attention to Captain Silvereye. “Captain Blackhand, Captain Silvereye,” he replied.
“Guardian, why don’t you join us? It seems Captain Blackhand has an idea.”
Every muscle in Breton’s body tensed, and the Rift King’s playful grin was vibrant before vanishing under a disturbingly neutral mask.
“What sort of idea?” he asked.
“He thinks he’s figured out a way to deal with Anrille,” Silvereye replied.
“The woman who came at you from behind, Kalen?”
“Yes.”
“Do I need to restrain you, foal?”
“Me? Not at all. You may want to hold Silvereye back, however, when he figures out what I have in mind.” Once again, the Rift King smiled.
“Stop doing that,” he chided.
“Doing what?”
“Smiling. It means you’re about to do something I won’t like. You’re not tricking me this time, foal.”
His foal made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle. “Me?”
Silvereye shook his head. “Is he like this all of the time?”
Breton nudged his foal, who wasn’t acting very mature, dignified, or at all like the Rift King should. “Only when in a really good mood or if he thinks he’s being clever.”
“Should I be worried?” The Mithrian Shadow Captain frowned, staring at Breton’s foal.
“Don’t worry, you two. I think my idea will prove to be a most excellent use of Anrille while teaching her not to cross me.”
“Killing her might be more merciful,” Breton muttered.
The Rift King stepped on Breton’s toes, made a disapproving noise, and ducked into the healer’s tent. “Parice.”
“You!” a woman’s voice rang out, roughened from pain. Breton sucked in a breath and darted into the tent after his foal.
The Rift King stood straight and proud, his lone hand braced against his hip, glaring at the woman seated on the edge of a cot. She had dark brown hair and equally dark eyes. Her arm was restrained by a sling. Parice hovered nearby with a disapproving expression.
“You will address me as Captain,” the Rift King replied, his voice cold and emotionless.
When Captain Silvereye joined Breton, he exchanged glances with the Mithrian.
The woman rose to her feet, and she proved taller than Parice, which made her an equal in height to most men. “I will do no—”
“You will.” The quiet way Kalen spoke chilled Breton far more than the snow had. The woman’s eyes widened, and she backed away, her legs bumping into the cot.
“Yes, Captain,” she whispered.
“Better. Sit.”
With a shudder, she sank down onto the cot.
“Since you don’t seem to be informed, unlike the rest of the company, I am Captain Blackhand. Unless I tell you otherwise, you will address me as Captain or as sir. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Captain.”
Breton was torn between his concern for the woman’s fate and his pride in his foal’s neutrality and complete control of the situation.
“Under the charter of companied mercenaries, the penalty for attacking your captain is contract severance without pay. Alternatively, the officer majority may elect to have you executed if they determine that your actions have endangered the company.” The Rift King’s gaze bore into the woman.
Anrille trembled and sweat beaded on her brow.
True to his foal’s prediction, Captain Silvereye stiffened and looked ready to intervene. Breton reached out and caught the Mithrian’s attention with a nudge of his elbow. He shook his head, hoping the Shadow Captain understood him.
The man remained still and quiet.
“I might be willing to overlook your crime,” his foal murmured, and the hard edge of his voice softened.
Breton was pleased when the woman didn’t relax. If anything, her breathing quickened and she was even more anxious at the Rift King’s words.
“I will give you several choices, Anrille,” Kalen continued. “Your fate is in your hands.”
“I understand, Captain,” she whispered.
“Good. First, you may choose to submit unpaid severance and exile back to Mithrias. Second, you may choose to accept the rank of new recruit, where you will be retrained under Captain Silvereye’s command. I suspect he will not be as gracious as I am. Third, you may choose to submit to my direct command, obeying my every order until I deem you are fit to return to your regular position. You will retain your rank, but you will be required to spend at least one month under my guidance, which is approximately how long it will take for your arm to heal. Decide.”
The woman’s eyes flickered to Captain Silvereye, who remained silent, much to Breton’s relief.
The Rift King waited.
Captain Silvereye cleared his throat. “Anrille, what is your choice?”
Beside Anrille, Parice’s grin broadened.
“Third,” the woman choked out.
Kalen’s eyes narrowed. “What was that, Anrille?”
Anrille flinched. “I pick the third choice, Captain, sir.”
“That’s better. Parice, I will need you to heal her arm sometime tonight. I have an errand for her to run before you attend to her,” the Rift King announced.
“Of course, sir.”
“Anrille, you are to go through the camp and locate five men who are interested in improving their archery techniques. Once you have located these volunteers, you are to report back to me. You will also be responsible for teaching others archery. These individuals will be of my choosing. You’re dismissed.”
Anrille cast a desperate look at Captain Silvereye. When she was ignored, she turned to the healer, who likewise refused to acknowledge her. Breton stepped to the side to make room for the woman to pass. With her face pale and her eyes wide, the mercenary fled from the tent.
For a long moment, no one spoke. Parice coughed and covered his mouth with his hand. The sound Parice made was a mix of a groan and snort.
“Just what are you scheming, Blackhand?” Captain Silvereye asked.
The Rift King giggled.
Shivers ran up and down Breton’s spine. “Will you stop that?” he begged.
His foal turned to him, grinning. “Breton, go find the Delrose family and our other guest and inform them that they will be attending archery lessons starting this evening.”
Not trusting his voice and wondering j
ust what his foal was planning, Breton nodded. When no one spoke, he drew a calming breath and asked, “Is there anything else you need?”
“A sling, good stones, and a light bow,” his foal demanded. “I’m out of practice.”
“A sling and a bow, Blackhand?” Silvereye asked.
“It is possible to use a bow with one hand, you know. It’s harder, but it’s possible. Right, Breton?”
With a sigh, Breton nodded his agreement. “It is possible. When was the last time you tried it, foal?”
“It’s been a while,” the Rift King admitted. “I view it as a subtle peace offering to Her Royally Offended Majesty.”
“And the sling?” Captain Silvereye asked.
“It may not be an elegant weapon, but I assure you they can be quite lethal. I’m quite good with a sling. Actually, see if you can find enough slings and stones for everyone, while you’re at it.” Whistling a merry tune, the Rift King left the tent.
“Archery lessons? Slings?” Turning to stare after the Rift King, Captain Silvereye shook his head. “Breton, what is he thinking?”
Smothering a laugh, Breton replied, “Don’t try to guess his plans, Captain. I’ve been trying for years without success.”
“It seems pretty obvious to me,” Parice said, crossing the tent to join them.
“Well, Parice? Enlighten us,” Silvereye ordered.
“He’s a predator, and she’s his prey. He’s finding out her strengths and her weaknesses,” the healer said.
Breton shivered.
“Any idea why?” Silvereye asked.
“I don’t know, but there’s no mistaking it. He was hunting her, and he knew he was the victor. I’m a healer, remember. I can tell.”
“Is he a predator, Breton?” There was concern in Silvereye’s voice.
“Only when he needs to be,” he replied.
The Mithrians both looked concerned. Breton smiled and said, “I wouldn’t worry. The Rift King may hate his sire, but he loves his dam. If he’s planning to kill Anrille, he won’t use his dam to accomplish it. His instructions were clear. He wanted the entire family. The youngest is only eight, and while the Rift King is many things, he’s a father who loves children. He might be a predator at times, but Anrille’s safe enough.”