The Bridge Kingdom

by Danielle L. Jensen

  It landed about midway up the beach, and Lara watched in horror as dozens upon dozens of snakes shot out of the overhang, flying toward the fish with their jaws open. They were big, the average of them longer than Aren was tall, and some much larger than that.

  The front-runner snapped its jaws around the fish as the others piled on top of one another, struggling and snapping until the fish disappeared down a gullet, the snake’s neck distended to contain its prize.

  “Good God.” Lara pressed her hand against her mouth.

  “One of them gets its teeth into you, you’ll find yourself paralyzed within minutes. Then it’s a matter of time before one of the big ones comes along to finish the job.”

  “Big ones . . .” The island became impossibly more forbidding as Lara searched for signs of said snakes. She caught sight of a stone path leading up to the base of the pier. It was overgrown, but compared to all the other piers, it seemed almost welcoming. “Please don’t tell me you use this as a route into the bridge?”

  Aren shook his head. “Red herring. Does its job well, it’s so inviting.”

  “Too inviting,” Jor added. “How many of ours have those blasted serpents fed upon?”

  Lara looked askance at Aren.

  “It’s a game our young people play, though it’s forbidden. Two people bait the snakes away from the path, and the runner must make it to the pier, climb up and out onto the bridge, then drop back into the water. A test of bravery.”

  “More like a proof of idiocy,” Jor snapped.

  “Certainly a good way to get oneself killed.” Lara chewed the inside of her cheeks, debating the usefulness of this particular place. It would be easy to anchor ships and ferry men in, if something could be done about the snakes.

  Lara was so caught up in her thoughts she didn’t notice Aren had stripped down to his trousers until he hopped over the edge of the boat, standing in the hip-deep water. “Hold this for me.” He handed her his bow. “Don’t let it get wet.”

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  He cracked his knuckles. “It’s been a long time, but I’m sure I can still do it.”

  “Get back into the boat, Aren,” Jor said. “You’re not a fourteen-year-old boy anymore.”

  “No, I’m not. Which should only be to my advantage. Lia and Taryn, you bait. Do a good job of it unless you want to spend your days watching Ahnna’s ass.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Jor ordered the two women. “Stay put.”

  Aren twisted round in the water, resting his hands on the boat. “Do I need to remind you who is king here, Jor?”

  Lara felt her jaw drop. Never in her time in Ithicana had she seen him pull rank. Give orders, yes, but this was different.

  The two men glared at each other, but Jor threw up his free hand in defeat. “Do as His Majesty orders.”

  With grim faces, the two women retrieved a pair of fish each, then jumped into the water. They’ve done this before, Lara thought. They’ve done this before for him.

  Lara’s heart was pounding in a staccato beat. “Get in the boat. Your arm isn’t healed.”

  “It’s healed well enough.”

  “This is madness, Aren! What are you trying to prove?”

  Aren didn’t answer, wading until he stood only a few feet back from the water line, then standing utterly still while the two soldiers splashed noisily in opposite directions, drawing the attention of the snakes. The ground beneath the ledge was a twisting mass of bodies, the creatures moving away from the path, watching the women.

  This is because of what you said, a voice in her head whispered. You told him to lay down and die.

  “Aren, get back in the boat.” Her voice was unrecognizably shrill. “You don’t need to do this.”

  He ignored her.

  Tell him you care. Tell him his life matters to you. Say what you need to say to get him back in the boat.

  Except she couldn’t. Couldn’t tell him a lie like that only to stab him in the back.

  But is it a lie?

  “Aren, I . . .” Lara’s throat strangled the rest of the words.

  Jor nodded at the guards in the boat, and those carrying bows silently knocked arrows, but somehow, Aren sensed what they were doing. “If any of you shoots one of those arrows, you’re done in my guard.”

  They lowered their bows. “You can’t be serious,” Lara snarled. “Aren, get back in the boat, you—”

  “Go!”

  At his command, the women threw flopping fish onto the beach. Once again, snakes shot out from the under the ledge, dozens upon dozens. More than Lara could count. And just as the frontrunners were about to snap up their prize, Aren broke into a sprint, feet sinking into the deep sand. He only made it halfway up the beach when the snakes saw him, several of them rearing up high to regard the intruder before launching themselves his direction.

  He was fast.

  But the snakes were faster.

  “They’re coming!” Lara screamed, watching in horror as the wicked creatures flew across the sand. Aren was on the path, racing toward the towering pier, sweat gleaming on his bare shoulders. He had thirty yards to go.

  He wasn’t going to make it.

  The snakes were throwing themselves through the air, their jaws snapping only paces behind him. And they were closing in.

  “Run!”

  Lara stood, not even noticing how the boat rocked beneath her. He could not die. Not like this.

  Jor was on his feet, too. “Run, you little shit!”

  Only a dozen yards. Please, she prayed. Please, please.

  She and Jor saw it before Aren did. An enormous beast of a snake rounding the base of the pier, drawn by the commotion of its smaller brethren. It saw Aren the same time he saw it, the snake rearing even as the king skidded, caught between death on both sides.

  Without thinking, Lara lifted Aren’s bow and tore an arrow out of the hand of the nearest guard. Nocking the arrow even as she whirled, she let it fly. The black fletching shot through the air, barely missing Aren’s shoulder, catching the man-eater square in its open mouth.

  Aren reacted instantly, leaping over the fallen snake and jumping to catch handholds in the worn rock, jerking his heels out of reach of the lunging snakes just in time. He climbed to the midway point in a matter of seconds, then turned his head to look at the boat, likely to see who’d disobeyed his orders.

  Lara let the bow slip from her fingers, but it didn’t matter. He’d seen. They’d all seen. And now she’d have to deal with the consequences.

  No one spoke as he climbed, and Lara’s heart didn’t slow for a moment of it, knowing full well that a fall from that height would kill him. The wound on his arm had broken open, and blood was dripping off him as he climbed, but if it bothered him, he didn’t show it. Reaching the top of the bridge, Aren loped down the span until he was back over deep water, then without hesitation, dove into its depths.

  Lara held her breath, searching the sea for any sign of him. But there was nothing.

  His shoulder was bleeding.

  What if there were sharks nearby?

  Jor was moving behind her, kicking off his boots, the boat drifting. “Lia, Taryn! Get over here.”

  Then Aren broke the surface, hauling himself into the boat in one smooth motion. Water glistened on his tanned skin, muscles rippling as he caught his balance, his soldiers half falling out to clear a path as he stepped toward her. “What the hell was that?”

  Lara stood her ground, not caring that he loomed over her. “Me saving your childish ass, that’s what it was.”

  “I didn’t need saving.”

  Jor’s subsequent cough sounded a great deal like “bullshit.” Aren glared at Jor once, before turning back to Lara. “You never said you could use a bow. Would’ve been a useful thing for you to mention in recent months.”

  “You never asked.” Rising on her toes, she glared at him until he took a step back, the boat rocking as it drifted closer to shore. “And if you e
ver scare me like that again, don’t think I won’t hesitate to use one on you.”

  “And here I thought you didn’t care.”

  “I don’t! You can walk back onto that beach and bed down with one of those snakes for all the difference it makes to me.”

  “Is that so?” And quick as the serpents on the island, he picked her up and tossed her into the water.

  Lara landed on her ass on the sandbar, the water only up to her waist, but her clothing soaked. “Asshole!” She clambered to her feet, the waves lapping at her knees.

  “Says the woman who’s been nothing but a thorn in my—” He cut off with a yelp as Jor leaned back in the boat and kicked him solidly in the ass.

  Aren landed on his hands and knees with a splash, nearly knocking Lara over. Regaining his footing faster than she had, Aren shouted, “Goddammit, Jor. What the hell was that for?”

  But the boat was already sailing away. “We’ll be back,” Jor shouted, “Once you two work out this little marital spat.” Then the vessel rounded the pier and they were out of sight.

  Unleashing a string of blistering curses, Aren smacked his hand against the surface of the water. Lara hardly noticed. Instead she watched the snakes making their way down the sand, stopping at the waterline. Several of them reared, swaying back and forth as they watched the two of them. And behind her . . . open ocean. Even if she could swim, Lara damn well knew what lurked within those waters.

  She was trapped.

  The sun beat down on her head, and her brow prickled as beads of sweat formed, mixing with the seawater drenching her hair.

  Her growing panic must have been written all over her face, because Aren said, “The snakes won’t come out here. They can swim, but they don’t like to. Jor will come back. He’s just being an asshole. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Lara’s teeth clattered together as though she were cold, but she wasn’t. “You can swim away if you want to.”

  “It’s tempting.”

  “I’m not surprised. Given how little worth you place on Maridrinian lives.” The words had crept out, but perhaps it was time they did. Perhaps it was time that she called him out for Ithicana’s villainy.

  Aren stared at her, jaw open. “Perhaps you might explain to me just what I have done to elicit a comment like that from you? I’ve done nothing but treat you with courtesy, and the same goes for your countrymen.”

  “Nothing?” Lara knew she was allowing her temper to get the better of her, but anger tasted better than fear. “You think allowing my people to starve because it’s good for your coffers is nothing?”

  Silence.

  “You think Ithicana is responsible for Maridrina’s troubles?” His voice was incredulous. “We’re goddamned allies.”

  “Ah, yes. Allies. Which is why everyone knows the majority of the food sold at Southwatch goes to Valcotta.”

  “Because they buy it!” He threw up his hands. “Southwatch is a free market. Whoever offers the most for the goods gets them. No bias. No favoritism. That’s how it works. Ithicana is neutral.”

  “How easily you wash your hands of all culpability.” She was growing furious that he’d spent the day trying to elicit her sympathy for his people, then turned a blind eye on hers. “And how can you claim an alliance in one breath and neutrality in the next?”

  Aren swore, shaking his head. “I can’t. I can’t anymore.” He pressed a thumb into his temple. “Why do you think Amarid has been breathing down our necks? It’s because they’re angry about the concessions we gave Maridrina, and which we will give Harendell if Ahnna ever decides to go marry their prince.”

  “And what impact have your so-called concessions made? Maridrina is starving, caught between Ithicana and the Red Desert, and I’ve yet to see you show the slightest bit of empathy.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “No? I heard you the day I was brought here. Heard you say that concessions you gave to my father were not what you wanted, and that Maridrina would starve before it ever saw the benefit of this treaty!”

  He stared at her, face tight with fury. “You’re right. I did say that. But if you and the rest of your people want to cast blame for Maridrina’s famine, it’s best you look to your father.”

  Lara opened her mouth to retort, but nothing came out.

  “Have you read the treaty?” he asked.

  “Of course I have. If Maridrina kept the peace with Ithicana for fifteen years, you’d marry a princess of the realm and offer significant concessions to tariffs and tolls on the bridge for as long as the peace between our kingdoms held.”

  “That’s the sum of it. And when it came time to negotiate those concessions, I offered to eliminate all costs associated with a singular imported good, believing that I could force your father toward a choice that would culture peace. Cattle. Wheat. Corn. But you know what he demanded? Harendellian steel.”

  Her chest tightened. “You’re lying. Everything my father has done is for the good of our people.”

  Aren laughed but there was no humor in it. “Everything your father does is for the good of his coffers. And for his pride.” He shook his head. “Our taxes on steel and weapons have always been prohibitively exorbitant because the trafficking of weapons has political ramifications we’d prefer to avoid. Never mind that those weapons were often used, in turn, against us.”

  She couldn’t breathe.

  “Maridrina has no ore mines, which means the steel for its weapons must be sourced elsewhere. And because your father won’t give up his endless war with Valcotta, he has been forced to import his weapons by ship at great cost. Until now.”

  The sun was too bright, everything a blur.

  “I’ll continue, since it seems your education in the desert had some gaps.” Aren’s hazel eyes glinted with anger. They were the only thing she could seem to focus on. “War costs money, believe me, I know. But your father doesn’t have the bridge, so he pays for it with heavy taxes that have crippled Maridrina’s economy. So even when its merchants dock at Southwatch’s open market, they are unable to bid competitively. And so they set sail with what no one else will buy.”

  Diseased meat. Rotten grain. Lara closed her eyes. If he was telling the truth, it meant that everything that had been fueling her desire to capture the bridge had been false. And all that would remain to justify the fall of Ithicana was the very thing she’d railed against her entire life: greed.

  “I’m not the one who has been lying to you. Not that I expect you to believe me.”

  Jor and the others chose that moment to circle back around, and the expression on Aren’s face was enough to wipe the amusement off the older man’s. The boat drew closer, and Aren grabbed the edge, hauling himself in. Once Lara did the same, Aren ordered, “Put up the other sail.”

  Jor winced. “That eager to get home?”

  “We aren’t going home.”

  “Oh? Where to?”

  Aren cast a glance at the darkening skies in the east, then turned back around. But it wasn’t Jor his eyes went to.

  Lara’s stomach flipped as Aren stared her down. Challenged her. “We’re going to pay a visit to Maridrina.”

  26

  Lara

  That he was willing to risk stepping into enemy territory, that he was willing to bring her—who knew so many of Ithicana’s secrets—into that territory, should’ve convinced Lara that Aren’s words were true. That her father, Serin, and all her masters at the compound were liars.

  But it didn’t.

  Stories of Ithicana’s villainy had been burned into Lara’s soul. Whispered in her ears all of her life. Chanted like a mantra through hours, days, years of grueling training that had nearly broken her. That had broken many of her half-sisters, sending them, one way or another, to their deaths.

  Take the bridge and you will be the savior of Maridrina.

  To believe Aren would mean changing that chant to something very different. Take
the bridge and you will be the destroyer of a nation. Take the bridge and you will prove yourself your father’s pawn. For that reason, she, like a coward, immediately argued against going.

  “We are in the middle of storm season.” Lara pointed at the darkness in the east. “What sort of madman takes to the seas to prove a point?”

  “This sort of madman.” Aren pulled the line Lia passed him tight. “Besides, the skies are clear in the direction we’re going. And if the storm does catch us, we are rumored to be very adept sailors.”

  “We are in a canoe!” Lara despised the shrillness in her voice. “I fail to see how your skill will come into play in the middle of a typhoon!”

  Aren laughed, sitting down on one of the benches. “We’re hardly going to sail into the capital of Maridrina in an Ithicanian vessel.”

  “How then?” she demanded. “The bridge?”

  Jor snorted and gave Aren a meaningful look. “Better to bypass Southwatch, isn’t it, Your Majesty?”

  Aren ignored him, putting his heels up and leaning back against a pack. “You’ll see soon enough.”

  Soon enough she was clinging to the edge of the vessel as it skipped across the waves, heeled over so far she was certain a strong gust of wind would capsize them, drowning them in the open sea.

  Lara reminded herself to pay attention to where they were going. This is how they infiltrate your homeland, how they spy. Yet as the bridge and its mist faded into the distance and more islands rose up ahead, all she cared to learn was the depths of Serin and her father’s deception.

  The Ithicanians dropped one of the sails, the boat easing from its terrifying angle to settle on the sea, and Lara took stock of where Aren had taken her. Columns of rock crusted with green rose out of blue seas so clear that the bottom seemed only an arm’s reach away. Birds filled the air in enormous flocks, some diving into the water only to emerge with a fish clutched in their beaks, which they gulped down before one of their fellows could steal it away. Some of the larger islands had white beaches that beckoned invitingly, and nowhere, nowhere, was there any sign of the defenses that turned the waters around Ithicana’s bridge red with enemy blood.