CHAPTER 59

CHAPTER 59

SLADE

In just a week, the wholebase has been saturated with the smell of shit and leather. The underground pipework has gotten clogged from overuse, so new latrines had to be dug. The rationing has been a nightmare to regulate too. There are still some soldiers sleeping in tents, even with the base putting up new buildings as quickly as we can make them, and there are nearly two hundred soldiers that Hojat and the other army menders are treating for travel wounds and sicknesses.

Morale hasn’t been the greatest. Not with the reduced food. Not with the tight living quarters and the fact that no one’s going to be dismissed to return home any time soon.

Queen Kaila and the other monarchs want to be difficult. Want to spread this narrative of Auren being a villain. Of me harboring a traitor. Of making Midas into some kind of martyr.

It’s all fucking noise.

But they can spread their sounds as much as they want. The queen may be a master of words, but I’m an expert at ignoring the clamor. I’m not the type of male to be swayed by sensationalized commotion meant to sway a populace.

Rot is silent.

So they can be as vociferous as they want, but at the end of the day, I will lay them to silent waste if I need to.

Across from me, Ryatt finishes up his reports. Things have been strained between us, but for all his bluster, he’s been carrying out every order. He looks wrecked though, eyes red from lack of sleep, his frown more pronounced than usual. His hair is still sweaty from wearing his helmet outside while he got updates from the list of volunteers who’d agreed to leave Brackhill to go and source more food.

So he might not agree with my decision, but he’s doing what needs to be done. When push comes to shove, he always does.

Aside from him, Osrik is the only other one sitting in this meeting. Judd and Lu left a week ago. Lu flew to Sixth Kingdom to get me a better handle on what’s happening there, and Judd has gone to First Kingdom.

“...And we’ve got forty more going up to the plot of land Barley suggested,” Ryatt finishes.

“How soon are they estimated to arrive?”

“I signed them off on a timberwing rotation. They’re taking them ten at a time—half of our Perch, not counting our own beasts. Once they return, we’ll switch them out, sending the next ten, and so on, giving the timbers plenty of time to rest before the next batch.”

“Good.”

“But it’s not enough,” Ryatt warns.

I nod my head, because that’s true. Or it would be, except... “First Kingdom took the deal.”

His eyes go wide. “They did?”

“Just got the reply from Judd,” I explain, patting the letter in my pocket. “The King of First agreed to reroute his ships going to port at Second and instead head for ours. Once there, we’ll get our supplies of food, and he’ll get a fuck ton of oil at a very good price.”

Ryatt lets out a weighted exhale. “Well, finally some good fucking news.”

Nodding, I say, “We needed it.”

“It certainly helps our food supply, but we still have problems,” he cautions. “The army is grumbling more than normal. We’re lucky we’ve always trained them to stand up to harsh conditions, but even they’re taking a morale hit with all of this shit.”

“I know.”

Ryatt shoots a look at Osrik across from him before returning back to me. “They deserve better than this,” he says, leaning forward so that his metal chest plate clinks against the table. “They got dragged across the fucking continent for show, dragged back, and now they have to prepare for yet another war that you might instigate.”

“I’m not instigating it.”

“You know what I mean,” he says, waving me off. “They’re loyal. You know they are. And they’re the strongest, most fierce, and feared army in Orea. But they’re losing faith in their leadership.”

“I know that too,” I say before Os and I share a look. “Which is why I’m going to officially name you as the new army commander of Fourth.”

My brother lurches back, shock crossing his face. “What?”

I nod. “It’s already done. I filled out the paperwork, and Os turned it into the lieutenants. You might want to prepare a speech.”

Ryatt looks bewildered. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“You’re ready,” I say. “And honestly, you’ve been ready for a while. It’s time I pass the reins officially.”

“You’re really going to give it up? Going to trust me to lead them? We argue all the fucking time.”

“I trust you.”

He looks at me warily, as if he doesn’t quite believe me. “I’m sure there are going to be things I disagree with from time to time, but I’m also sure that you have this army’s best interest at heart, as well as all of Fourth Kingdom,” I tell him.

He doesn’t take the bait of the compliment, but he does look a little bolstered. “I thought you liked being commander way more than you liked being a king.”

“I do. But this army doesn’t need me anymore.”

“What about Rip? Half the army’s fear factor is because of the notorious rumors about you.”

I give an easy shrug. “I’ll make sure I bring Rip around plenty to show a united front to the soldiers, and I’ll fight when I need to, but for all intents and purposes, Commander Rip is retiring so we can bring in new blood for the coming days. As far as being notorious...I’m sure you’ll make a name for yourself.”

He snorts and shakes his head but doesn’t voice any other doubts. “What about Drollard?”

“How often you visit is up to you. But as the true commander, you will have more responsibilities, and that means you won’t be able to go there as often.”

“That’s fine,” he says quickly—eagerly. And that right there is all I need to know to confirm that I made the right decision, that he is ready for this. He gestures over at Os. “How come Os or one of the other fuckers isn’t getting this position instead of me?”

“You think any of us want it? Fuck no.” Os rumbles out a laugh. “We’re much better off continuing to be your captains and telling you when you’re shitting the bed.”

“Thanks,” he says dryly.

“So you accept? Officially?” I check.

He stands up, and I stand with him, and to my surprise, he holds out his hand and we shake. Much different from the last time we stood across this table.

“Thank you.”

I give a nod as he drops his hand, and I pat him on the shoulder. “Don’t screw up.”

Ryatt rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t have any of his normal acrimony in it. “I’m going to be on your ass about any decisions you make that affect the army, you know,” he warns me.

“Oh, I’m aware,” I say with a smirk.

Another reason why I know I’m making the right choice. Ryatt needs this—needs his own identity, his own purpose, and Auren showed me that. It’s something I should’ve given him a long time ago.

Just then, there’s a knock on the door, and Os thumps over to open it. I see one of the runners pass off a sealed vial, saluting Os as he’s dismissed.

“What is it?” Ryatt asks.

Os twists open the lid and dumps out the scroll inside before passing it to me.

Taking it, I quickly unroll it, eyes scanning over the contents, and then my stomach drops. “Fuck.”

“What?” Osrik asks, snapping out the word in a graveled voice.

“One of the mines. It fucking collapsed.”

Both he and Ryatt tense. “Which one?”

I look up from the paper, barely able to stop myself from crushing it in my fist. “Oil.”

Os lets out a curse. “Well, that’s fucking convenient.”

“Way too convenient to be a coincidence,” Ryatt seethes, looking over at me. “What’s going to happen with the First Kingdom deal?”

“It’ll fall through if there’s no oil at the port to meet his ships,” I say through a growl.

“Can we prove it was sabotage?” Os asks.

“The foreman is looking into it.”

“This is bad,” Ryatt says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “What the fuck is with her? Queen Kaila has never pushed you like this before.”

My rot pricks and writhes beneath my skin, the roots jabbing beneath my jaw and threatening to dig deeper down my arms.

“This is her chance to weaken us, and she’s taking it.”

I shove the letter into my pocket and stride for the door. Ryatt pulls his helmet back on as he and Osrik follow behind me. As soon as we’re outside, the noise of the base is amplified, the smell of smoke from the fire pits clogging my nose.

Instead of fresh meat that should be cooking over the flames, I know they’re probably eating some kind of travel gruel. I’m lucky that the soldiers are so loyal to me and their captains, or I might have more fighting and grumbling on my hands. The way they proceed from here on out will be a true test of their fealty.

The soldiers walking around give us a wide berth, but there are more respectful nods than guarded looks of irritability. Probably because I gave everyone a pay raise. Yet if the mines on the other side have been caved in too...

One problem at a time.

Just as we reach the run-in shed where some of the horses are kept, another horse comes galloping toward us, dirt kicking up beneath its hooves. The rider yanks it to a stop, practically leaping off its back when he sees us. I’m instantly on alert, stopping with Os and Ryatt at my sides as the man hurries over. I can see right away by his uniform that he’s one of the castle’s guards.

“Sire,” he says, running up, face flushed. “There’s a problem.”

Tension thickens the stance of my shoulders. “What is it?”

“There was a woman attacked in the gardens.”

Everything in me becomes chaotic. A jolt of noise in my ears, a jump in my chest, even my vision seems to flare.

“Lady Auren?” A million things run through my mind, but the guard shakes his head.

“No, Sire. The Lady Rissa.”

Osrik’s head reels back. “What?” he snarls. “What the fuck do you mean she was attacked?”

Most people would be a bit intimidated when being faced with all of Osrik’s fury bearing down on them, but this man holds steady. “She was stabbed, sir. The guards patrolling found her and another guard out there with fatal wounds.”

Osrik shoves past the guard and leaps onto his horse before I can even finish processing what the man said.

Ryatt and I sprint to our own mounts, trying to catch up as we race back to the castle. The three of us get back in record time, the horses pulled to a stop at the front courtyard. When we toss the reins to the handlers, Os is already through the side door, running the shortest path toward the gardens.

As soon as we’re inside, there’s an obvious turmoil in the energy of the castle. Servants are whispering in groups, quickly skittering away when they see us coming.

When we get outside, the garden is lit up more than usual, extra torches stuck into the ground, and dozens of guards are filling the area.

“Where is she?” Osrik snarls at the first guard he comes to.

“Over here, Os!” His head snaps to Warken’s voice, and the three of us make our way past the rows of bushes and shrubs, following the stomped over flowers and grass until we get to the center of the garden where the fountain churns.

Warken, Isalee, and Barley are here, and even Keg is with them, standing beside the fountain, their faces grim. We have to pass by a gathered group as they stand over the body of a fellow guard.

I kneel down at his side. One of the castle menders is hovering over him, inspecting the slash across the young man’s throat. The mender checking the wound has blood on his hands, and there’s more of it stained against the grass. I hear Ryatt curse beneath his breath.

“Where’s—” Osrik’s question cuts off when some of the people shift, and his eyes latch onto a figure on the ground just behind the fountain.

All I can see are the edges of a white skirt and one bare foot, a shoe kicked off lying uselessly a foot away.

Os rushes over to her, falling to his knees on the ground. “Fuck!”

After rounding the fountain, I can see Hojat leaning over Rissa’s body. There’s a stain of blood seeped through her chest, a silver dagger still embedded there.

I’ve seen Osrik lose his shit many times.

I’ve seen him snarl and yell, punish and kill. I’ve seen him slaughter without remorse, insult without batting an eye, make threats with indifference.

But I have never seen him like this.

It’s like his eyes are trying to adjust seeing the blade sticking out of her, like he can’t quite correlate the blood soaked through her dress.

His eyes snap to her colorless face and closed eyes, and he reaches out to grab her shoulders. “Rissa.” His voice is strained. Chapped. As if her name was torn from his throat and whipped raw in the wind.

Unmoving, he shakes her gently. “Rissa!”

“Sir Osrik,” Hojat gently chides, reaching out to tug away his hand. I see Osrik’s hands tighten for a split second before he lets Hojat pull him away.

“No. Fucking no!” Os snarls right in her face, denial and fury battling it out. “You will wake up, you stubborn woman. You can’t be fucking dead. Hear me, Yellow Bell? You can’t be fucking dead because we have mistakes to make.”

He chokes off, and I stand in shock as he suddenly folds his huge body over her slight frame, tipping his forehead down to hers, squeezing shut agonized eyes.

Ryatt and I are both frozen at his display, while Isalee’s eyes glitter with moisture, and a thread of a tear stitches its way down Barley’s cheek.

How am I going to tell Auren?

“Sir Osrik?” Hojat says gently. “Lady Rissa is not dead.”

Shock plummets through me, and Osrik’s head whips up so fast he almost headbutts our mender. Disbelief crosses his expression as he looks back down to her.

“The dagger just missed her heart, and because it was left inside her, she didn’t bleed out,” Hojat explains. “But I will need to get her into the castle’s infirmary to perform surgery immediately. I’m just waiting on a carrying board.” Just then, a couple of mender’s aids with their red bands around their biceps come rushing through the garden, carrying the board.

“I’ll carry her,” Osrik grunts out as he gets to his feet.

Hojat winces. “I’m not sure if—”

“I said, I’ll carry her.”

“Os...” I step forward, but Hojat waves me away.

“It’s alright, Your Majesty,” he says before looking back at Osrik. “Carry her very carefully. Slow movements, support her neck, and try not to jostle her chest. She’s alive, but just barely. I’m not sure if she’ll make it once I remove the dagger. You need to prepare yourself, just in case.”

Giving a stiff nod and grinding his teeth so hard he nearly cracks his jaw, Osrik leans down and collects her in his arms. It’s the gentlest thing I’ve ever seen him do. As if he’s picking up the thinnest pane of glass, and one wrong move will make it shatter.

With Hojat leading the way, he carries Rissa out of the garden and into the castle, disappearing from view.

“What the fuck happened?” I ask as soon as he’s gone. There’s a blood spot and the impression of Rissa’s body still left on the grass. My eye catches on a glint of something else further in the distance, but a worker walks over it before setting a bucket down beside the blood and starts to wash it away. When I squint in the dark, whatever I’d seen before is gone.

Warken watches as the menders lift the dead guard’s body and carry it inside before he answers. “The patrol that came through the garden alerted me. When we came out, we found the guard and the woman. I sent for you immediately.”

“The working theory is that the guard followed her out here. Perhaps he was jealous or possessive of her, and so he killed her before slitting his own throat,” Isalee says.

“It wouldn’t be the first time something like this happened to a woman. Especially a beautiful one,” Barley says.

“Yeah, but here?” Keg says with a shake of his head. I know he’s been spending time with his family since he returned with the rest of the soldiers, and I bet he didn’t expect to see violence like this outside of the army.

“Do you know the guard personally?” I ask my Premiers.

Isalee shakes her head. “Just the basics. We’ll look through his file, but as you know, no one is allowed to serve who’s had a history of violent attacks or aggressive behavior.”

“The lady hasn’t been here that long,” Ryatt points out. “How could the guard get infatuated with her so quickly?”

“It happens,” Keg says. “My brother and I have had to beat off more than a few men who couldn’t take no for an answer from Barley.”

A nearby guard pushes his way forward. “Holman wouldn’t have done that!” he says, face blotchy with emotion. He’s young, probably only twenty or so, and the way he sniffs and rubs his nose on his sleeve tells me that he knew the guard personally.

“How did you know Holman?” Isalee asks.

“He was my best friend,” he says with another sniff. “I’m tellin’ you, I know how this looks, but it wasn’t him. He wouldn’t have done that. He fancied a few of the women here, sure, but he never said anything about the lady. He would’ve told me.”

I nod, and my eyes drift behind him to where Marcoul, my head guard, comes walking over and tugs the man away.

“What do you think?” I ask Isalee and Warken with a lowered voice. “Do you want help looking into it?”

“No, we’ll handle it,” Isalee replies.

With a nod, I say, “I need to go tell Auren. I left her sleeping earlier. She’ll want to be in the mender’s wing while Hojat works on Rissa.”

Ryatt comes with me back inside the castle, my brow furrowed as we head upstairs. “You don’t think the guard did it, do you?” he asks quietly so that none of the staff hears.

“No, I don’t.”

I’m not sure why, but I have a bad feeling in my gut.

“I don’t either. Something just isn’t sitting right.” We’re quiet until we reach Ryatt’s floor. “I’m going to dip in my room so I can change out of Fake Rip,” he says as we split off. “I’ll meet you down in the mender’s wing.”

With a nod, I turn and go up another flight of stairs, and then cut down the hall to my rooms where I let myself in. Yet when I make it into the bedroom, I find the bed empty. With a churning feeling of unease, I scoop up her cut ribbon from the bedside table and put it in my pocket. In the closet, I see the rumpled remains of the ruby dress she was wearing earlier. I see my black and brown clothes now shiny gold.

And I know.

Right then. That churning feeling in my gut pushes at me, nauseates me. The glint of my clothes makes me immediately think of that glint I thought I saw on the grass outside in the gardens. A thought I dismissed too quickly.

My heart fucking bulges like it’s going to explode, surging with fear and fury.

I check the bathroom. The front sitting room. The private room where we take our meals. The library. The kitchens. The roof. And when I’m up there, with the wind whipping at my face, I’m panting and pounding and fucking panicked. Because she’s not here. She’s not fucking here.

“Sire?”

I spin around to find Marcoul behind me along with several other guards, Ryatt included.

“What’s going on?” my brother asks as he pushes his way forward.

“She’s gone.”

The friction of those two words abrades my mouth, sparking such searing panic that it burns my throat with acid.

What happened in the garden had nothing to do with the guard. He wasn’t a murderer, he was a victim, same as Rissa.

My eyes churn, skin rippling, spikes trying to shove up through my arms and down my back, my gums aching as my fangs drop down.

I whip around, and the look on my face makes my brother’s eyes go wide.

“They took Auren. They fucking took her!”

I stuff two fingers in my mouth, letting out a shrill whistle so loud that it makes the guards flinch. But Argo is hunting this time of night. He could be miles away, too far to hear me. Lady Rissa and the guard Holman weren’t found for at least a half hour, and it took even longer for the guard to fetch me, for me to come up here…

“What do you want us to do?” Ryatt asks, coming up beside me.

“I think you got your wish,” I snarl bitterly. “I think that fucking prick kidnapped Auren to take her to the Conflux.”

Ryatt pales.

Whirling, I start sprinting away, because I need a timberwing. I’ll take Ryatt’s if I have to, his is the second fastest, and if I have to yank the beast from the roost, then I—

A deathly loud call shrieks through the air, and a second later, I hear the landing with the screech of sharp talons against the tiled roof. Argo snaps at the guards, making them jump back, before his iridescent eyes blink at me.

I waste no time. I’m up on his back in a blink, and he’s tearing off into the night sky in the next.

“Wait!” Ryatt’s voice is snagged away by the wind as I hold onto the reins, leaning into the climb.

I don’t fucking care.

I will not wait.

Because they took her.

But I won’t fucking stand for it. I don’t care how long it takes me to catch up to them. I will ride day and night until I get to Second Kingdom if I have to.

And when I get there, they will all wish they’d never taken her away.