by B N Miles
“He’s right,” Galla said. “It’s a piece of twisted metal and a burned head. But tell me, Father, are there any missing Wardens right now? Has Dore accounted for them all?”
Lord Remorn’s back was stiff as he turned to Dore. “Well?” he asked. “Are you missing any men?”
Dore opened his mouth, sputtered, and shut it again. “We’re missing men every day,” he said. “Men get sick working so closely with each other, you know that, Lord.”
Lord Remorn shook his head. “I want answers,” he said. “Damn you, Dore, what did you do?”
“It’s not what he did,” Galla said. “It’s what you did, Father.”
Lord Remorn turned back to her and Cam saw it then.
True shock, like until this point, he couldn’t believe the game his daughter was playing.
“I would never,” Lord Remorn said.
“And yet you did,” Galla said. “You sent that man into our rooms, all because you don’t like my marriage to Camrus. You believe I’d be better off dead, or perhaps you were only going to kill my husband and spare me. Was that your plan?”
Lord Remorn’s face was ashen pale and he trembled, from rage or something else, Cam wasn’t sure.
But as Lord Remorn hunched forward, his jaw clenched tight, Cam had a sudden and horrible realization.
Remorn didn’t do this.
Of course he didn’t do this. Sending a Warden as an assassin made no sense. The Wardens were too easily tracked and accounted for, and any discrepancy would be noted by any one of the Elders. On top of that, they weren’t warriors. That man last night certainly hadn’t been much of a threat to Cam and his wives, even in the middle of the night, even when Cam was completely naked.
It made no sense to send a Warden, and Remorn would’ve known that. No, if Remorn wanted to kill Cam and his girls, he would’ve sent one of his loyal army divisions to make sure it happened. He wouldn’t have sent some untrained glorified steward in the middle of the night.
Which begged the question, if not Remorn, then who?
“I would never,” Lord Remorn said. “I freely admit, I oppose your marriage to Camrus, but I did not try and stop it when I could. I would never try and kill guests under my own roof, no matter how impudent and disrespectful they’ve been to me. Much less the husband of my daughter.”
“Nobody else has the motive,” Galla said, her voice strong and pure and clear. “Nobody else would do something like this.”
“Galla,” Lord Remorn said. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m serious, Father,” she said, her tone turning to venom and ice. “You tried to kill my husband. And now I demand retribution.”
“There’s no proof!” Warden Dore leapt to his feet. “There’s no proof one of my… one of my… my men would never do this!”
“Sit down, Dore,” Lord Remorn snapped, and the portly Warden dropped back into his chair, sweating and breathing hard.
“You’re dangerous, Father,” Galla said. “I don’t want to imagine what you might do next, now that a dagger in the dark failed.”
“Galla—” Lord Remorn started, but she interrupted him.
“I move to strip you of command of the army,” she said. “And in your place, I propose we name Camrus Medlar as the Head General.”
The men around the table began to murmur to themselves as Cam stared at them. He looked at their faces and saw approval in most of them, saw more than a few happy nods, and slowly he looked up at Galla standing beside him. She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, and he knew who sent the assassin, he knew who would be smart enough to use this for her own gain.
An assassin was the perfect pretext to take the army away from her father and to give it right to Cam.
“I second her movement,” Elder Frew said, half-standing.
“This is absurd,” Lord Remorn said. “I never sent an assassin. How dare you suggest I would?”
Cam leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest.
Lord Remorn didn’t send that man. There was no part of him that truly thought Remorn would stoop to such a thing, not based on his reactions here, and not based on what Cam knew about the man.
Which meant that Galla was manipulating everyone again, including him.
And yet this was what he wanted. If he spoke up now, it would ruin her game, and destroy Cam’s chances of taking over the army.
That was the most important thing. The wolves were coming, and the army needed a leader, needed someone with the guts and the ability to take them out into the field, to meet the enemy head on.
There wasn’t a single man in the Mansion that could do it.
There was only him.
And so he kept his mouth shut as the Elders stood, one by one, to vote yes on Galla’s proposal.
“This is wrong,” Lord Remorn said. “This is all wrong. I never sent an assassin. And you can’t just… take command from me with a vote. There’s no precedence for this.”
“I believe we can,” Galla said. “And I believe we just did.” She tilted her head and gestured at the gathered military staff. “Shall we have them vote as well.”
Lord Remorn opened his mouth but saw the look on his daughter’s face. His mouth clicked shut and he shook his head.
“This is foolish,” he said. “This is all foolish.”
“Don’t let them do this, Lord!” Warden Dore said. “You have to fight them. Call in the guards, cut them down, you must—”
“Shut up, Dore,” Lord Remorn said.
Silence fell on the table.
Cam reached up and touched Galla’s arm. She looked at him and smiled as he slowly got to his feet. All eyes turned to stare at him, and he looked back, feeling his heart beating heavy in his chest, his palms sweating, his back trembling.
“This wasn’t how I wanted this to happen,” he said, looking around at all the familiar faces. “Many of you know me. Many of you were out there with me, fighting the wolves. I don’t want to be involved in schemes, assassination attempts, politics. The only thing I want is to gather our strength and fight the wolves that have been killing our people and taking our land. They threaten our way of life, they threaten everything we stand for. I’ll take command of the army, not because I want power, but because I want to win this fight, and I’m willing to do what’s necessary.”
He scanned the faces until he stopped on Commander Brice. Her expression was drawn and tight, but she nodded to him, and he took that as acceptance.
“A nice speech,” Lord Remorn said. “And perhaps it convinces them, Camrus of Medlar. But I’m far, far from convinced.” He shook his head and stepped back from the table. “I won’t simply sit back and allow this to happen.”
“I don’t think you have any other choice, Father,” Galla said.
Lord Remorn gave his daughter a look, a strange, pleading look, before sweeping around the far side of the table. Warden Dore leapt to his feet and scrambled after his master like a fat, hungry dog. Together, they left the council room.
“Well,” Galla said, beaming at the assembled men and women. “I suppose we should take over this meeting for now, then?”
Cam sank back into his seat and stared at the burned head lying on the table in front of him.
He wondered if that man really had been an assassin.
Or if he had been a sacrifice.
6
The meeting staggered along, strained and difficult. Cam noticed more Elders looking in his direction for answers, more military officers paying attention when he spoke. They worked through a list of tasks prepared by the council that needed attention: where to send precious stores, Mansion defenses that needed strengthening, how many men they needed to conscript for the army.
Cam felt exhausted when it was over. The council filtered out into the hallway, talking to each other in soft voices, a low murmur of plotting and scheming and alliance-building. Galla stuck by his side as the room cleared, beaming at the officers who stopped by to pay their res
pects, bowing their heads like she was the true Lord of the Mansion.
And in some ways, in many ways, Cam realized she was.
“Camrus.”
A deep voice, familiar and grating, cut through the few council members that remained. Cam pushed his chair back and stood, spotting Arter standing near the doorway.
He wore a clean tunic, crisp and well-fitting, though motley and patched. He looked thin but healthier than the last time Cam had seen him. His sons flanked him, Janter and Vorn, the pig-faced meat-brained twins who were good in a fight but not much else.
“Arter.” Cam walked to the former Elder and clasped his forearm. “How are you getting used to the Mansion?”
“Slowly,” he said. “But we’re getting there.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“I came to thank you again,” he said. “And to pass on a message.”
Cam tilted his head and released Arter’s arm. “What message?” he asked.
“From the men that were in the pens,” he said, and took a step back from Cam. He bunched his right fist into a tight ball, and for half a moment Cam thought Arter was going to try and punch him in the mouth
But instead, the man pressed his fist against his chest and got down on one knee.
His sons mirrored the gesture.
“Arter—” Cam started.
But Arter interrupted.
“I pledge my life to you, Camrus,” he said. “You saved us from those pens. You brought the army back from the brink. I’ve heard rumors that you’re going to move into a more senior position, and I wanted to be the first to offer myself as your personal guard.”
Cam opened his mouth, not sure what to say. A month ago, Arter hated him and wanted nothing to do with him. Arter had gone out of his way to push back against Cam’s leadership at every opportunity, and it was through his own foolish pride that he ended up captured by the wolves.
And yet there he was, kneeling and pledging his life in service.
“Stand up, Arter,” Cam said.
Arter’s eyes flashed up to Cam’s, hard and halfway insulted. “Are you saying—”
“Arter,” Cam said, tone gentle but serious. “Please, get to your feet.”
Arter slowly stood and his boys followed. “If you don’t want—”
Cam held up a hand. “Please,” he said. “Listen.”
Arter took a breath and nodded once. “I’m listening.”
“During council today, I was officially given command of the army,” he said, though the words still felt strange.
Surprise rippled over Arter’s face. “I knew you were gaining allies and consolidating power, but this…” He trailed off.
“It was sudden,” Cam said, “and entirely unexpected. But it happened, and now I need to figure out how I’m going to move forward.”
Arter nodded sharply. “I think I understand.”
“I have enemies, Arter. Enemies within these very halls. I’m going to need your support, and I’ll gladly accept your pledge, but I have a condition.”
“Anything,” Arter said.
Cam reached out and touched Arter’s shoulder. “If you pledge your life to me, you also pledge your life to my family.”
Arter’s eyes flipped to Galla then back to Cam. “Of course.”
“All of them,” Cam said. “All of my girls.”
“I would gladly give my life for any of them,” he said.
Cam laughed and squeezed Arter’s shoulder then released him.
“I doubt that,” he said. “But it’s a start.”
“Does this mean you’ll accept us?”
“Yes, it does,” Cam said. “Go gather any of the men you trust from the pens, those that can fight and are willing. I’ll send someone to arm and armor you.”
“Thank you, Camrus,” he said. “You won’t regret this.”
“I know,” Cam said.
Arter saluted him, fist to his chest, then turned on his heel and left, his boys right behind him.
After Arter departed, Galla and Cam were alone in the room. Cam watched the man go and let out a breath, still coming to grips with what was happening to him. It felt like things were moving fast, too fast for him to comprehend, and he was just barely keeping pace.
But soon, it would sweep him aside, and he’d ride the wave of whatever destiny had in store.
He turned to Galla and she beamed at him as she stood.
“That was well done,” she said.
“Thank you.” Cam didn’t move as she came closer and touched his cheek.
“He’ll make a good Captain for your personal guard. You’ll need someone loyal to a fault.”
“I agree,” Cam said, and took her hand in his own. “But his loyalty doesn’t bother me.”
“Something else does?” She tilted her head, smile wavering.
“You sent that assassin.” The words tumbled from his lips, and as soon as he spoke them out loud, he knew they were true.
She raised her chin. “I did,” she said.
Her admission sent a spike through his chest. “Why, Galla?” he asked.
She stared into his eyes, her face defiant and serious. She turned from him and strode toward the head of the room, hands behind her back. She stood with her back to him, looking up at the far wall like she was studying the roughly carved rock before slowly turning back to him.
“Things need to move faster,” she said. “We were going in the right direction, but my father was never going to allow you control of the army without a fight.”
“You thought you had to force his hand?” Cam asked.
“I thought this was the right compromise,” she said. “This way, you can use the army to fight while he still retains his Lordship.”
“Galla,” Cam said, his voice soft. “You accused your father of attempted murder.”
“I did what I had to do,” she said. “I know my father and I know he’s not the man we need in charge. But he’s still the man that raised me, and I don’t want to see him fall in a bloody coup. This can work, Cam, and I knew the fake assassination attempt was the way to do it.”
He shook his head, at a total loss. “How did you do it?”
“Easy,” she said. “I bribed a Warden to come into our room. I told him to bring a sword, told him I’d meet him in the bedroom. He didn’t ask questions, because of course not, I’m the Lord’s daughter. If I want a Warden to show up wearing a pink dress, he’ll do it with a smile on his face.”
“He was never there to hurt anyone,” Cam said, voice choking on the words.
“You did what you thought was right,” Galla said. “He was a strange man in our room at night with naked steel. You had every right to do what you did.”
“Galla,” he said. “I murdered that man. I murdered an innocent man.”
“He’s a sacrifice for the greater good.” She stepped toward Cam, hands out, palms up. “You have to see that, don’t you? One life isn’t worth all the lives that could have been lost if we let this place fall apart in a civil war. If we let my father fight back, the wolves would be able to sweep in and destroy us. One life lost is worth avoiding that fate.”
He stepped back away from her. She was beautiful, so soft and gorgeous, but her eyes were terrifying, and the lengths to which she’d go to get what she wanted made Cam sick.
He understood her words, understood her point. One life to save hundreds or even thousands.
But she wasn’t the one that had burned an innocent man to death.
He shook his head as she started to come closer. She stopped midstride, mouth open, a pleading look on her face as he half turned away, his hand rubbing the bridge of his nose, a headache already beginning to pound at his skull.
“I need to think about this,” he said. “I understand why you did it, but gods damn it, Galla, you used me just as much as you used everyone else. How am I supposed to trust you going forward if you’re going to do something like that?”
“You weren’t ever in dang
er,” she said. “None of you were. Any of the girls could’ve disarmed him and ended things themselves.”
“That’s not the point,” Cam said. “I’m not a pawn for you, I’m not some tool.”
“You’re not,” she said. “But you are strong, and we need someone strong to step up and lead this place if we’re going to survive what’s coming. I know you hate it. I know you don’t have the stomach for the nastier things that have to be done, which is why I’m going to do them for you, Cam.”
“I don’t need that.”
“You do,” she said, her voice dropping, getting icy. “You really, really do. You can’t be the good guy all the time, not when the fate of our people is at stake. Yes, I got that man killed, and I used you to do it. I’d do it a hundred more times if it meant you’d get control of the army, because I know you’re the one that can lead it to victory. That’s all that matters, Cam, nothing else.”
He looked at her again, his jaw clenched. He knew she was right but it still sliced into his guts like a dagger.
“I’m going to talk to the girls,” he said, “and I don’t want you to follow me.”
“But, Cam—”
“No,” he said. “I don’t care where you go or what you do. I’m going to talk to them and figure out what we’re going to do about you.”
“Just know that I did it for you,” she said. “I did it for you, and for everyone else.”
“Maybe,” he said, turning from her, walking to the door. “But the blood is on my hands as much as it is on yours.”
He left the council room, left Galla alone behind him, the severed and burned head still lying on the table, stinking like charred meat.
7
Cam stood with his back to the room, staring into the hearth. Behind him, Miuri sat with Felin and Key on the couch, Felin’s feet in Miuri’s lap, her legs over Key’s thighs.
“Did she at least seem… apologetic?” Key asked.
“Not at all,” Cam said, staring into the flames. “She seemed to think she’d done the right thing.”
“Maybe she did,” Felin said.