Song of the wolf, p.14
Song of the Wolf, page 14
“These Drakels saved your life,” Red Wolf said. “And they say they can help us find Ashera. We owe them our trust.”
“Oh please, your opinion on trust is—” Talin hissed through her teeth and held back the rest of the sentence. “Regardless, you’re right—I owe them for saving me, at least.”
“I say we work with them, at least for now,” Ettrias said. “They were willing to take you in and treat you despite not knowing who you were at first and when they could have easily turned us away.”
Talin sighed. “Very well. We’ll ally ourselves with these Drakels.”
They returned to the war room and relayed their decision to Kadis. The Draconian prince gave a nod and pointed at the map table.
“My advisors and I have been discussing the way forward,” he said. “But first, we’d like to familiarise you all with the area around the den, given that you’ll be staying here for the foreseeable future. As for my spy and your squire, I have reason to believe they are being held in El’Vane, our capital, two days’ ride from here.” Kadis took a stick and jabbed it at the capital on the map. “Getting inside may be difficult, however. The insurgents have every gate guarded day and night. Their leader is a man named Ve’Tehll. My informants on the inside have told me that he has installed numerous defensive mechanisms in the gate and along the walls. A direct assault will be impossible.”
“We’ll have to infiltrate the capital covertly then,” Talin said.
“I agree—it’s the only way,” Kadis said. “If Your Majesty is up to it, we have time today to show you the den and its surrounds. El’Vane will have to wait until you are recovered in case the insurgents put up a fight. For now, perhaps you’d like some breakfast.”
Talin realised she was hungry. “Breakfast would be wonderful.”
Kadis motioned for a servant. “Take the queen and her friends to the dining hall. Breakfast should still be on, but if not, tell the cooks to make whatever they wish to eat.”
The servant nodded and hurried to Talin. “This way, Your Majesty.”
They had breakfast in a large dining hall near the front of the den without Red Wolf, who remained in the war room to help Kadis plan. Talin couldn’t help but feel Ashera’s absence; she had grown fond of the girl over the past month. And despite her youth, she had proven herself more than capable.
Red Wolf, on the other hand…
“My queen.”
Gods, not now.
Talin looked up to find her bodyguard standing by the edge of the table, towering over her despite keeping a respectable distance.
“I wished to apologise for deceiving you—” he began.
“For both our sakes, we will not speak of this right now,” Talin said. “In the meantime, I think it best if you stayed out of my way.”
Red Wolf said nothing but bowed and left the hall. Talin stared at her food for a few moments before pouring herself more coffee.
“Much as I hate to admit it, Red Wolf isn’t our enemy,” Ettrias said in between mouthfuls of sausage and bread. “Trust me. He hates those Hellhounds almost as much as they all hate us.”
Talin scoffed. “I find it ironic that he tells me not to trust Wormwood, yet he keeps more secrets from me than the rest of my council combined.”
“He was worried about you,” Ettrias said. “For all the…unwise decisions he’s made…well…saying he’s not a terrible person is a bit of a stretch for me. But I will admit that he’d never willingly do anything to hurt you. He cares about you too much.”
“He…” Talin’s voice trailed off. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Ettrias shrugged and went back to his meal.
XVII
How long has it been? One day? Three?
Golmin had lost count.
They had thrown him into solitary confinement in the lower level of the dungeon, where the cells were underground and no light penetrated the cold, stone walls. He guessed it was past the full moon by now. If Red Wolf and the queen were still alive, they should be out of danger.
For now.
With no way out of his cell and no way to warn them of Wormwood’s takeover, he could only pray to the gods and hope. He paced the cell once more and contemplated his options. No doubt Wormwood and Highett would visit eventually and convince him to pledge his loyalty to Ettrias, and he could simply do as they wished. But he knew that Red Wolf would never do such a thing. Out of respect for the man, Golmin decided to do the same. At least he’d be executed with some sense of honour left in him.
I could pretend to join their cause. Do as Corvan had done.
He was not Corvan. To him, an empty pledge made him no better than Wormwood. Pledging his loyalty to Ettrias only to betray him a second time.
What about working with Ettrias? Absolve him of his crimes, put him on the throne.
Golmin felt like he was going in circles. Ettrias or Red Wolf. The man he loved or his closest friend. He cursed Red Wolf for putting them all in this situation and Ettrias for plotting something like this.
Some hours later, after he’d been given his usual serve of prison slop, Wormwood visited him, escorted by half a dozen royal guards. Golmin contemplated making a break for it—the guards, his own men, might support him. Then again, they might have been corrupted by the scheming coin-master. He decided it wasn’t worth the risk.
“Don’t even think about it,” Wormwood said. “These men will cut you down without hesitation. Money talks, you see.” He set his torch into a socket in the wall and considered Golmin. “Seeing you brought so low…well, I could almost rejoice. Changed your mind yet?”
“I hope the seven hells takes you, abijo.”
Wormwood huffed a humourless laugh. “I thought you might be stubborn. But think about it, Captain. You can help fix things here. Put Ettrias on the throne, as he deserves. Where he should be.”
“Not like this,” Golmin said, and offered nothing more.
“Excellent. Your trial will be held in the morning, your execution probably later that day. Enjoy your final moments while you can,” Wormwood said, retrieving his torch from the bracket. “I believe we’re done here.”
“Someone will stop you,” Golmin said. “Talin has always been the rightful queen, and there will always be someone who recognises that.”
“I look forward to killing them too,” Wormwood said, and spun on his heel. Golmin watched his torchlight fade down the hallway.
He must have fallen asleep at some point, because it was cold when he woke and water was dripping into his cell from a crack in the ceiling. He sat up and scooted away from it. A sliver of light curved around the corner at the end of the corridor and grew, moving closer and closer. Golmin got to his feet groggily. Was it time? Had Wormwood’s guards come to take him to his rigged trial? He had some time to prepare, and silently prayed to whatever gods were watching before readying himself to tackle the guards as soon as they opened the door.
He realised he was mistaken, however. The man carrying the torch was none other than Master Corvan, followed by a certain Lord Cassius Highett, who had only shown his face briefly to warn them about the thief.
“Master. M’lord.” He approached the bars.
“We have a plan,” Lord Cassius said.
“Oh? Let’s hear it, then,” Golmin said.
“Since your arrest, Corvan and I have been discussing how best to contact the queen,” Lord Cassius said. “Sending a bird is impossible without knowing her location. However, I believe with someone skilled enough in tracking, we might be able to follow her trail and deliver a message in person.”
“And I suppose that’s where I come in,” Golmin said.
“You once served Lord Whitehall as a scout and light infantryman. You are the best tracker we know,” Corvan said.
“I’m the only tracker you know. How do you plan to get me out?”
“Everything has been arranged.” Lord Cassius turned a key in the lock and let the door swing open. “I take it you know your way around the secret passageways in the palace?”
“Aye, I do,” Golmin said. He stepped out of his cell, and Lord Cassius quickly passed him a bundle of weapons and travel clothing.
“Once you are out of the city, you must ride for the Western Forts,” the spymaster said as they walked. “I have a contact at each crossing who can get you past them and into the Hellhounds’ territory beyond; only tell the soldiers that I sent you. Find Queen Talin in the Draconian lands and tell her what has happened here. Warn her and Red Wolf. We will try to delay Wormwood’s plans here, but she must know that half her council intends to overthrow her.”
“It takes weeks to get to the Draconian lands,” Golmin said. “The queen and her escort left on horseback. How can I possibly catch up to them?”
“I’ve arranged for a horse to be left outside the northern gate, right by the entrance to the secret passageway,” Cassius explained. “You’ll have no trouble finding it.”
At the top of the stairs, they spied half a dozen on-duty royal guards, playing a game of Tavern Cards in the corner out of the way. Corvan passed what appeared to be an empty vial to Lord Cassius, who threw it against the wall closest to the guards. They scrambled to their feet, drawing their weapons, and Golmin reached for his sword.
There was a beat.
The six guards crumpled soundlessly.
“Black Byur flower,” Corvan said softly. “They’ll be unconscious for a few hours.”
“As long as you haven’t killed them.” Golmin didn’t like moving against his own men, but desperate times called for desperate measures. The three of them stopped in front of a plain section of wall in the hallway, and Corvan pulled on an empty torch bracket to reveal a sliding door built into the stonework.
“Go, now, Captain,” the old healer said. “And may the gods favour you on your journey.”
Golmin ducked into the tunnel without hesitation. “I will find the queen. You have my word that I’ll not fail you.”
“Our future depends on it.” Corvan released the torch bracket, and the door slammed shut again.
Right. No pressure, Rufus. No pressure at all.
Golmin took a deep breath and descended further into the passageway.
XVIII
“I must thank you for this past week, Master Celio,” Talin said, as one of Kadis’ healers finished cutting her stitches free and wrapped fresh bandages around her shoulder. “Were it not for your care, I’m not sure I would be here today.”
“You were fortunate to receive medical attention when you did,” Celio said. “Any later and your injuries may very well have been lethal.”
“All the same, thank you,” Talin said.
Celio smiled. “Only doing my job, Majesty. And don’t strain your shoulder too much. If you must train, I would recommend only light sparring.”
They parted ways there, with the Drakel healer moving off to tend to whatever other patients required his attention. Talin headed outside for some fresh air.
Red Wolf was in the middle of the training yard to her left when she made her way down the path leading to the front doors, sparring with a Drakel almost as tall as himself. She watched as the two of them danced back and forth across the yard, training blades ringing sharply against each other whenever they made contact. Ettrias sat on a bench not far off and looked to be enjoying the show. Downhill, at the edge of the forest, a team of archers honed their sharpshooting skills at the range. Talin’s fingers itched to pick up a bow and join them, but she knew she’d only hurt her shoulder.
She brought her attention back to the yard just as Red Wolf tripped his opponent neatly and sent him crashing to the ground. His sword was at the Drakel’s throat a moment later.
“Who’s next?” He grinned at the rest of the gathered swordsmen. Talin made her way to the bench and sat down beside her brother.
“Here to watch the show?” Ettrias asked. “Or are you here for Red Wolf?”
“Both, I suppose.” Talin sighed. “Part of me simply wants to forgive him and be done with it all. The other part is still upset that he’s kept all these secrets.”
“I suppose he hasn’t yet told you why he went along with Father’s plan,” Ettrias said.
“No,” Talin said.
“The way he tells it, Father found out about his powers,” her brother said. “Kept it all a secret, even from him, until that ill-fated day he brought the Harrisons’ bodies back to the palace. Father told him that framing me was absolutely necessary to ensure your safety when you became queen. When he protested, Father threatened to reveal his powers to everyone if he didn’t comply.”
“Father changed his tune awfully quickly when Red Wolf didn’t cooperate,” Talin said bitterly.
They were interrupted by a roar of approval from the Drakel soldiers when Kadis stepped into the duelling ring to face Red Wolf, who had now ditched his padded armour and tunic. From Talin’s position, she could see a maze of scars across her bodyguard’s torso and arms, far too neat to belong to any sword cut or battle wound.
“Are you sure you don’t want the armour, sir?” Kadis asked with a grin. “Wouldn’t want to beat you black and blue.”
“That’s only if you can get a hit in, sir,” Red Wolf said.
Kadis laughed. “Don’t come complaining to me afterwards!”
“Anyway,” Ettrias continued, “the fact is, Kies Tor has never been welcoming to outsiders. Most would consider him the enemy if they knew what he was.”
Talin looked towards her bodyguard again. “But if he told Corvan and Golmin…”
“He told them because they can cover for him,” Ettrias said. “Besides, he tells Rufus everything.”
Talin rubbed her eyes. “So, what? He kept it all a secret because…?”
Because he’s different. Like Father kept my magic a secret from the rest of the world.
“I think that unlike you, dear sister, your bodyguard knows Kies Tor will never accept someone like him as an ordinary member of society,” Ettrias said. “You’ve seen it too. Weavers on the street beaten and left for dead. The Crown’s justice has never cared for outsiders like him, nor will it ever, unless the laws change.”
“It doesn’t justify lying to me,” Talin said.
“Maybe not.” Ettrias shrugged. “Either way, please at least talk to him. We’ve been here a week, and this awkward silence between you two is getting on my nerves.”
Talin watched Red Wolf and Kadis dance across the ring for a few more minutes before the Drakel, out of breath and with a blunted sword at his throat, finally admitted defeat. He and Red Wolf shook hands before he stepped out of the ring.
“Your endurance is impressive, sir,” he said with a breathless laugh. “All that back and forth, and you’re not even breathing hard.”
“I get that a lot,” Red Wolf said. “Alright, who’s next?” He scanned the gathered soldiers before his gaze landed on Talin.
“Good morning, my queen,” he said.
Talin stood. “Spar with me,” she said on impulse.
Red Wolf blinked.
“Come on. You’ve never been one to pass up an opportunity for training.”
“I’m…not sure that’s wise.” His brow furrowed. “Not with your injury—”
“I have a perfectly functional right arm, and last I checked, an arming sword can be wielded in one hand,” Talin said. She unsheathed her blade and approached. “Well?”
“Even so, I don’t think—”
“Raise your sword, Lord Commander, and face me. Or are you too much of a chicken?” Talin grinned.
Red Wolf let out a long sigh. “As my queen commands.” He waited until she’d taken her position opposite him before coming forward with his first swing. Talin parried it easily, expecting to meet strong resistance and instead finding very little. He’d clearly decided to go easy on her today. Thinking she would teach him not to make the mistake again, she pressed him, forcing him on the defensive as he knocked aside her strikes with his own blade. Finally, near the edge of the ring, she managed to slip under his lightning-fast parries and brought her sword around in an upward swing, intending to break his block.
She realised too late that she’d overestimated how much force to use. Her blade kept travelling, scoring a deep cut across Red Wolf’s face. He stumbled away with a loud curse.
“Orrlát! I didn’t mean to do that, I’m so sorry…” Talin began, all other thoughts fleeing from her mind.
Red Wolf straightened and met her gaze, and she saw, to her surprise and relief, the cut she’d inflicted was already closing. Soon it had vanished completely, leaving no trace.
Of course, he heals like the Hellhounds.
“That tickled.” Her bodyguard swung at her again, and this time his brutal strikes were back. She managed to parry a handful before one of her parries met empty air instead. The cold bite of steel appeared against her neck from the other side as Red Wolf straightened his sword arm.
“Don’t let your opponent lull you into a pattern,” he said. “You won’t be able to predict the fatal strike.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Talin sheathed her blade. “Walk with me. And…put some clothes on.”
Red Wolf snatched up his tunic from the edge of the arena and struggled into it as she moved off. “I was under the impression that you were avoiding me.”
Talin let out a long breath. “I talked to Ettrias. He made some good points. I can’t keep avoiding you like this.”
Red Wolf grunted but said nothing.
“I think I understand why you kept your secrets,” Talin continued. “Kies Tor has never been fond of outsiders, especially not…someone like you. I felt the same way about my magic. As if I didn’t…belong as the queen…because I’m a Weaver. I know it’s nothing like what you have to deal with, and I’m sorry that my father used the people’s prejudice against you.”
Red Wolf still didn’t respond.
“I don’t think you kept those things from me for any ill intent,” Talin said. “But I want to be clear, Red Wolf. I don’t want any more secrets between us. If you have anything else to tell me, do it now.”
