Chapter 43

Forty-Three

Don’t askme how long I was in the oh-so-tender care of my kidnappers. I couldn’t tell you. They had me sedated, hog-tied, and in a carriage the entire fucking trip. Yes, I was bitter about that. Yes, I would get revenge before leaving.

I had no idea where I was being taken, or anything, as no one would say boo to me. If they hadn’t kept me magically gagged, I’d have been singing my lungs out and rescuing my own self, but they were too smart to lift it. Wankers.

The second they did, though, I’d turn into the villain of this story. That I promised.

After X amount of days sleeping through this trip, they finally took the ropes off and shoved me into an inn’s room to bathe and change into fresh clothes. Kept me gagged, though, the spell very strong around my throat. I kept trying to at least hum but couldn’t make a single sound.

At least I had a chance to clean up, though. My scalp was so itchy after several days of not washing that I felt like a dog with fleas. I washed, put on clean clothes, and ate the food they offered because I felt half-starved at this point.

I stayed meek and quiet through the whole thing, but I kept my eyes peeled. A chance was all I needed. One second when someone’s back was turned. Then I was hightailing it out of here.

Deacon Rot (because he was the one orchestrating this) kept a close eye on me as we exited the inn. Literally within arm’s reach the entire time, leading me into an open-air carriage.

Uh. Excuse me, we’d gone from undercover to displaying me? Why?

“Once you see how the people greet you, you’ll understand why you must be with us,” Deacon Rot said cryptically.

I very much doubt that, you sagging lump of monkey testicles. I swore Dory from Finding Nemo had a fucking PhD compared to him.

Since I was surrounded by knights with no sense of humor, I had no choice but to climb up. Truthfully, it sounded like we were in the middle of a city, although the inn’s courtyard walls blocked my view. I couldn’t swear to that, but that was what it sounded like, and if we’d gotten that far south, then we might be near the capital at this point. In which case I might as well take this to the source and argue my point. I didn’t see any other way out of this.

Poor Theon was probably coming unglued trying to find me. He’d never let me out of his sight after this. I felt doubly pissed at them for panicking my fiancé. How fucking dare they.

The carriage rolled out, and we left the inn courtyard. I glanced around, trying to get my bearings. Huh. Actually, this looked familiar. I must have traveled through here with Theon on our trip to the capital. So they’d taken the main road?

Two arched gates standing open caught my attention and my blood ran cold for a second.

Fuck a duck on a cracker. I wasn’t on the way to, I was in the capital. Those gates led into palace grounds, I remembered seeing them. They’d been closed then, though.

“Wave to the people, Holy One,” Deacon Rot intoned. “This is your parade, welcoming you.”

The fucking what, now?

Oh my god, he wasn’t even joking. There were people lined up on either side of the streets, the crowd growing thicker as we moved, sometimes lined up five or six people deep, all eager to see me. It wasn’t the grand celebration Deacon Rot made it out to be, though. People mostly looked confused. I could hear whispers from the carriage.

“That’s the holy maiden?”

“Doesn’t look like a holy maiden to me.”

“I thought the holy maiden had to be, y’know, a maiden?”

I arched an eyebrow at Deacon Rot, totally laughing at him without making a sound. Serves you right, sucker.

Flushing, he abruptly stood and called out to the people. “This is indeed the holy maiden! For centuries past, it was always women called, but this time a man with tremendous holy power was brought to us! This is Jake Alexander. He has vanquished the miasma in the north. No one else in history was able to do so, but he did. That’s how powerful he is, how much service he has given to this country. Welcome him!”

Satisfied, he sat back down.

Still no cheers, though.

I honestly thought he expected this to be some hero’s parade, but he hadn’t set it up ahead of time to be such. Simply getting me all gussied up and thrown into an open-air carriage wasn’t enough to make that happen. Not one of the gods’ strongest soldiers, this one.

“Wait, isn’t he the one who makes the yummy potato soup?” a woman asked in outrage. “The one who makes sure it’s an affordable cure for all of us?”

I tried to spot who had spoken in the crowd, couldn’t quite manage it, but it was somewhere over to the right. I gave a fervent nod, then pointed at my throat and shook my head. Can’t talk!

“They’ve got him gagged!” a male voice yelled. “This is how you treat a holy maiden? If he’s really done all you say he has, then why is he gagged?!”

Deacon Rot flushed, looking worried now.

Somebody’s in trouble~ Na na na na naaaaa~

Petty of me, I know. Sue me.

Deacon Rot hissed at the driver and suddenly we picked up the pace, no longer going at a sedate walk. Hurrying this along before anyone could stage a revolt and pull me free? That was what it looked like. Still, I was not interested in jumping out of the wagon at this point. I was taking this all the way to the top.

This nonsense ended today.

The carriage hurried along and passed through the gates, which shut hastily behind us. Deacon Rot still looked like someone had stuck a hot poker in his liver. Must say, it was a becoming look on him. I liked it very much.

The carriage kept going, and from my perch, I had a great view of the palace grounds. I knew the High Temple’s main building was here somewhere, so I wasn’t surprised to be inside this very secure place. I did worry about Theon chasing after me and doing something ill-advised trying to get me out of here, though. I knew he had to be hot on my trail, which meant I didn’t have much time to get back out of here.

It was a strange feeling, to know someone absolutely had my back. I’d never had that in my life before Theon. But I knew. I knew without any trace of doubt that he was coming for me.

It was a race, more than anything, to see who could save me first. Me or him.

The sculpted gardens, elaborate water fountains, it all passed by without any real care or notice on my part. I just had to get to wherever we needed to be so I could get this damn spell off my throat. Once that shackle was removed, I was tearing this place down to the ground.

The carriage finally stopped, pulling up in front of…um…pretty sure this was the palace. Nothing about it screamed temple to me. In fact, wasn’t the temple back over there? We’d passed it coming in.

Deacon Rot had found his equilibrium and alighted from the carriage, straightening his robes with a huff. “Come. Our illustrious monarchs wish to speak with you first.”

Ah. So this was the palace? With the soaring towers made of light grey granite, and all of the elaborately carved statues acting as pillar supports, it had the feel of one of those museums. You know, relics of an older time where monarchs spent money willy-nilly without care for their subjects. Funny how the building was a silent testament to the state of this country.

I followed Deacon Rot through the gold-inlaid doors. I didn’t have much choice about that; the knights were caging me in on all sides, giving me no room to bolt. I didn’t fight it, just rolled my eyes and walked. I’d get out of this shortly. I was determined to not stay here another hour.

Fortunately for me, it was a short walk. We went through a foyer with a massive chandelier and elaborately curved staircases to either side, bypassing that entirely, and through a truncated hallway. I could see a throne room dead ahead with a crowd of aristocrats already waiting. They were milling about, gossiping, glasses of wine in hand. So this whole thing had been planned, then? My “debut” into high society.

Deacon Rot paused before we could be in full view of the room, turning and releasing the spell around my throat.

About time! I felt like I could finally take a full breath. The spell hadn’t restricted my breathing, but holding my voice in like that had felt unnatural, like a sock wedged in my throat.

“Behave,” Deacon Rot hissed at me, his look stern.

Not on your fucking life, you toenail of a human being.

A majordomo stood off to the side and announced us as we came through. He did so with expansive, rolling tones, voice loud enough it could be heard in a rowdy doggy daycare. I ignored him, too, and marched right into the center of the room.

Deacon Rot bowed to the monarchy, gestured toward me, then backed off several paces. His work here was done. He looked quite smug to have delivered me here despite all my protests and fights to the contrary.

It was in my nature to negotiate first. To approach difficult matters with a calm, rational manner. But I had just spent the better part of three days in a wagon, sedated, bound, and gagged, and I was very anti-reasonable right now.

They’d let me take a bath, fed me, and let me down about a gallon of water, so I was feeling better.

I was not feeling charitable.

I stood in this open, vaulted room, at the center of the elaborately tiled floor, with a full audience ringing me in on all sides. It seemed to be some kind of court room, in the more traditional sense, as there was a raised dais in front of me. A man enveloped in velvet and wearing a heavy gold crown sat there, with a woman in an intricately embroidered blue silk gown, also wearing a crown, sitting next to him. Their expressions were hard, stony, and I knew that expression. My parents had worn it whenever they’d looked at me, as if I was disappointing them somehow and they couldn’t believe I was forcing them to talk about this. I knew without a doubt what kind of people the king and queen were. I’d been born to parents with their sort of entitled attitudes.

I’d been dragged here against my will because they wanted something and couldn’t take a no. I knew precisely how to handle people like them.

“Jake Alexander—” the king started with that patented “you’re a disappointment but I’ve chosen to forgive you” condescension.

Nope! You get no openings.

I’d had time to think about this and I knew precisely which song to sing. The tune was already playing in my head. “Diggy Diggy Hole” was my choice today.

I sucked in air and with large amounts of power belted out the lyrics.

The whole building started shaking, the very foundation vibrating along with my voice. People startled, looking unnerved, a few actually inching for the doorway as if afraid of being in the building any longer.

They should be very afraid.

The king looked both concerned and confused and tried to raise his voice to interrupt me. “Jake Alexander, stop singing!”

Nope. You brought this on yourself, fucker. I raised my shield while I was at it because no one was stopping me now.

Cracks abruptly shot out from underneath my feet, spiraling out along the floor. The sound was horrendous, the tile shattering in places. People started screaming and cursing, leaping out of the way, starting a mass exodus for the door and body-slamming their way out of the room as quickly as they could manage. Most people avoided coming anywhere near me, but there was a lot of pushing and shoving.

“Stop him!” the queen shrilled at the guards.

Good luck on that, assholes. I could sing faster than they could cage me, and nothing was getting through my shield right now.

I put more emphasis into my song, more power.

The cracks shot up the walls, the floor heaving as the foundation started caving in. Such destruction made me smile. Yes, let’s sink this rotten edifice of power right down to bedrock, shall we? I was good with this idea.

If I sang much longer, I really would be buried with these bags of shit, which wasn’t my goal. My goal was to scare them to death so they’d rethink messing with me. I think I’d done that.

As abruptly as I’d started, I stopped singing.

The room fell into an uneasy silence. Aside from the sound of crumbling mortar, and people’s panicked breathing, not a sound disturbed the room. I locked eyes with the king, saw the white of his eyes, and knew I had him. That’s right, you walking cat piss. You’re in charge here, but I’m in control.

“Three concessions,” I said with perfect calm, “and I’m willing to walk out of here and never return. I want them signed and notarized because this is a peace treaty we’re negotiating, and I won’t be taking your word for it.”

The king still looked like he was going to pass out at any second. The funny part about people like him—ones born with a golden spoon in their mouth—was that they couldn’t handle it when things went wrong. They had no experience with it, so when something happened wildly outside of their expectations, they either broke down or had an absolute fit. Seemed he was the type to break down.

The queen, at least, was made of sterner stuff. She managed to croak out, “You think we’ll agree to let you walk back out of here?”

I locked eyes with her, brow quirked. “I can keep singing if you’d prefer.”

The guards hadn’t been able to get close enough to catch me, not with the floor vibrating and sending them in all directions, and they weren’t willing to try and grab me now. I could see that in their body language. The queen looked about, made her own judgment, and seemed to realize the same.

It must have been bitter to swallow the reality, but she managed it, although she was hopping mad. Through clenched teeth she growled, “What do you want?”

“First, you will acknowledge that you have no rights over anyone with divine power. You cannot order, coerce, threaten, or bribe them into doing your bidding. Anyone with divine power has complete immunity and autonomy.”

Oh, she did not want to say yes to that, but she gave a tight nod. “Agreed.”

Her husband woke up from his daze and screeched, “Honey!”

“Shut up,” she hissed at him. “Unless you want our entire palace below bedrock.”

At least she had common sense.

“Second,” I continued calmly, “the duchy of Rehobath and the family ruling over it has full sovereignty. All of Northgaard is ours, and we will operate as an independent country from this moment forward. While we will collaborate with you, you do not have any power over us. The temple will be allowed in our territory, but it’s also outside of your control, as ours will function independently.”

Neither of them wanted to say yes to that. Of course they didn’t; these people thrived on power and authority, and handing even a small piece of it over likely felt like chewing on glass. I checked if I cared or not. Oh look, no fucks to be found. Shame.

This time the king answered me, his eyes closed in fatalistic resignation. “Fine. Agreed.”

“Third, you will leave us alone.” As simple as that sounded, I knew they’d have a hard time obeying it. Wounded pride and all that. “All we ever wanted was to live in peace, have the chance to prosper and live happily in our home. Your greed has disrupted too many lives. You will not—in any way, shape, or form—retaliate against us. If any trouble comes to us after this, I will march right back to your capital and sink it.”

From the way the queen’s hands curled into themselves, she was perfectly willing to punch me. “Ha! You’re bluffing. Even a holy maiden doesn’t have the power to do that.”

How could anyone ruling a country be this stupid? “Truth told, I’ve never tested the full extent of my power. I wasn’t even straining myself when I did all this.”

She glanced about the room, realization dawning. I’d done this much damage to her precious throne room and palace without pushing my limits.

My smile was not nice. “I can always test my limits now. Would you care to experiment with me?”

“No!” the king blurted out in panic. “No, don’t!”

It wasn’t him I worried about. He seemed properly cowed. It was the queen who struck me as the vindictive sort. So I kept my eyes locked on hers.

She really, truly hated it. I could see emotion ripple through her face before she snapped out, “Fine! Fine. You win.”

You fucking bet I did. “In writing, please. Otherwise I’ll consider us to be at war.”

Turning her head, she snapped at her aide, “Bring me paper and pen, along with my seal!”

I rocked back on my heels, smiling. Didn’t hurt me to wait the ten minutes it’d take her to scribble all that down.

Now, I could likely repair all the damage I’d done while waiting on her. It wouldn’t take that much effort.

Would I?

I decided, after a second, I was not that nice.

Having to tear this building down and rebuild it from the ground up would be the consequences of this lesson. Besides, a project like this should keep them occupied for a few years, which would encourage them to leave us alone.

The king, not having a paper to write furiously upon, instead kept staring at me like I was some kind of three-horned monster. “You wouldn’t have really destroyed us all, would you?”

“You proved to be my enemy. Why wouldn’t I?”

“B-but—” He really couldn’t seem to grasp the full situation. “Your place is here, at the temple! We just wanted to bring you here.”

“Dude. Seriously? You sent a delegation, I said no. Then your delegation abducted, drugged, and bound me before hauling me here. You literally abducted me and now expect me to thank you for it? Are you that stupid?”

The king was one bewildered man. He kept staring at me as if I’d suddenly see the light and realize he was the one in the right. “But you’re supposed to be here.”

Should I just bury him anyway? I really felt like it wasn’t going to be much of a loss. He was too stupid and pigheaded to be a good leader to a country.

I blew out a breath. I was probably inviting more trouble on my head than it was worth. “Look, please learn consent. I promise your life will be better for it. Forcing people to bend to your will never ends in good results. Trust me, I’ve lived through it too many times. Your Majesty, you have the terms drawn up?”

She looked poised to correct me about my manners, but I didn’t give a fuck about manners. I wanted Theon, potato soup, and snuggles with my dragonlings. In that order.

“Come sign and then leave.” She thrust the paper out at me. “I don’t want you in my palace ever again.”

“That makes two of us.” I approached the dais long enough to read it, sign my own signature, and date it. Then I folded it up and stuffed it in my pocket. With a cheeky wink, I turned right around and walked out.

On the way, I saw Deacon Rot plastered to a column, skin grey and clammy. I’d scared him too, apparently. Petty me gave him a wave as I sailed right past him.

All right, I was free and clear, as everyone here was too scared to even try to catch me again. I kept my shield up just in case, though, not wanting to risk it. I was almost home free. No sense in taking chances.

What I wouldn’t have given for a cell phone. I could have just called Theon, assured him I was okay, and let him know where I was instead of leaving him in a state of anxiety and worry. Dammit, I missed technology sometimes.

I broke out into a jog the second I hit the doorway, as I had ground to cover and no interest in walking the distance. I wanted out of here sooner rather than later. If I’d had the stamina, I might have tried running, but I didn’t want to wind myself. Seemed a bad idea.

It felt like it took a century and a half before I got close to the main gate. The guards stood there, halberds at the ready, looking intent on keeping me in. Also nervous for some reason. Hmm? I heard a lot of yelling coming from over the wall.

“—you’re stealing the one person in power who’s helped us!” an older voice, like a grandmother, cried above the rest of the noise, her tone cracking under the strain of being heard. “It’s thanks to his tonics and potions I didn’t lose my husband this past summer, and the thanks he gets is being locked up? Not on our watch!”

A chant started going up. “Let him out! Let him out!”

Awww. The people of this city were fighting for me. I’d never have thought what I’d done would have had such a huge impact, but apparently it had. Me making medicines for them and making sure it was affordable had been a business decision. Supply and demand, that was all I’d thought of in the beginning. But it had changed their lives for the better. And they were ready to fight a government to get me back.

Gratitude seemed too light of a word to use for this moment. I didn’t know how to repay them for this, but I’d figure it out.

First, though, I had to get past the guards. Who were eyeing me nervously.

I jerked a thumb to indicate the palace that was half sinking into bedrock. “I did that to a building. You really want to try me?”

From the strong way they hesitated, bodies shifting backward, they really didn’t. But duty kept them bound in place.

Hmm, all right, maybe showing them the queen’s seal on my treaty would get me through. I couldn’t blame them for not getting the memo. The memo hadn’t even been sent out yet, after all.

The massive gates—and I do mean that as they were a good two stories tall with thick wood—abruptly exploded inwards. I flinched back despite my shield being up still, and thank god for that as the door—now known as kindling—ricocheted off my shield in all directions. It flattened the two guards immediately, sending them skidding away, their metal armor scraping along the flagstone. RIP guards.

But what the hell had done that? I hadn’t smelled gunpowder, so was it a spell?

The dust cleared enough for me to spy a figure standing just beyond it. A sword in one hand, a spell ready in the other, poised for combat.

Theon.

Relieved, I dropped my shield and raced toward him. I’d been right, he had been chasing after me this whole time, and he was perfectly willing to bust into the palace to come after me. This man really did love me enough to set the world on fire.

“Jake.” Theon dropped his spell, extending his legs in a long stride to meet me in the middle.

I launched myself at him, arms tight around his neck, breathing him in. He smelled of sun and sweat, like he’d done nothing but ride hard to get me back. He likely had. On my exhale, my heart settled. I was home. So long as I was in Theon’s arms, I was home.