26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Brokil

When night fell and Silvyr hadn't returned, Brokil insisted to himself there was no reason yet to worry. It wasn't the first time Silvyr had stayed out later than he meant to. The last time he did this, Brokil found him in the meadows, concentrating so hard on braiding the wildflowers into a crown that he nearly flew out of his skin when he realized Brokil had arrived. He hadn't even known the sun had set. It would be the same tonight, no doubt.

That, or he was still with Urzul, the two of them lost in their poultices and ointments. The thought made him smile. It was oddly natural how well the elf fit in as Urzul's unofficial apprentice. Silly how it took Brokil taking the prince of Athowen hostage for Urzul to take his advice in getting said apprentice, but he would count the victory as his.

Leaving his home with an extra linen to keep the elf warm against the chill of night, Brokil walked toward the meadows to bring his elf back. He might need to scold the boy once he returned. When it got dark, there was no telling what could happen to him if he was caught unaware, and knowing how intently the elf focused on his flowers, he would be caught completely unsuspecting. Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad thing to make a habit of going to the meadows on his way home to gather the prince.

Once in the meadows, Brokil paused to look for that familiar curtain of golden hair only to find an empty field. With a frown, Brokil stepped through the flowers, searching for the elf. Each step he took sent his heart further into the pit of his stomach.

"Silvyr?" Brokil called to the flowers, receiving only silence in response.

He wasn't there, but then where else would he be? Urzul's perhaps, though the older orc was strict with getting Silvyr home in time to keep Brokil from worrying. Then he must have returned home on his own. He must have taken another route and they just passed each other by without realizing it. It was the only explanation that made sense.

Turning to leave the meadow to check Urzul's home, a spot of brown caught his eye and Brokil froze at the scene before him. Silvyr's wicker basket lay on its own, upturned and spilling out bundles of pink wildflowers. Around it, the flowers were crushed, unable to lift themselves back up. Brokil kneeled beside the basket and eyed the ground, his mouth dry and heart racing.

Blood.

Sprinting back to Ghizol, Brokil went to the first place he could think of, slamming his fist on the door. It opened only moments later, Salthu standing before him in her night linens.

"Chief?" Concern covered her face as she stepped outside, closing the door behind herself.

"Call a meeting with the Elders immediately. The prince has been taken from us," Brokil said.

Taken from me.

Saying the words out loud nearly brought him to his knees.

Salthu's eyes widened and she straightened her back. "Taken?" she questioned, her voice in a low whisper as she looked around for anyone who might be listening.

"I found blood in the meadows. He didn't leave of his own accord," Brokil told her. He truly believed, without a doubt in his soul, that Silvyr would not leave. Not after what they had shared. Not after what Silvyr had confided in him.

"Go to the Council Chamber. I will call the Elders and meet you there," Salthu told him, turning back to her home and pausing. She seemed to consider her words before looking back at him. "Are you certain he didn't leave on his own?"

"I know him, Salthu. He would not leave on his own." She eyed him for a moment, weighing whether or not she believed him. But he knew he was correct, and he was sure Salthu could see that in him.

She nodded and disappeared back into her home, leaving Brokil to turn to the Council Chambers on his own. He moved with speed to reach the chambers, hoping that he was wrong. Hoping that Silvyr had somehow just hurt himself and went to Urzul to assist him with the injury. Hoping the elf had just gotten lost on his way back in the darkness, or distracted by some plant or bush or another. But something in his chest knew the truth.

Inside the Council Chamber, Brokil paced the room, unable to sit. Every moment that passed was another moment that Silvyr could possibly be in danger. Getting further away from him. Scared and alone, unable to defend himself. Every moment he waited for the Elders who filled the space slowly, too slowly, Silvyr would be wondering when Brokil would come for him.

Finally, the Elders all took their seats, Salthu entering with the last of them then joining the head of the long table at Brokil's side. All exhausted and annoyed with the late call, the Elders eyed Brokil with a mix of suspicion and blame.

"Did you tell them why I called for them?" Brokil asked Salthu in a low whisper.

"No," she said simply, putting a hand on his shoulder to offer her support.

"Good. Salthu, this may lead us to war, so we need to be ready. Do I have your support?" he asked her, turning to face her fully.

Salthu's lips quirked into a smile, and she gave him a firm nod. "Always, chief. I told you, I'll back up every decision you make, so long as you're not being a thick-headed idiot," she said, and Brokil couldn't help but smile, thankful for the levity Salthu brought him.

"There is no better second in command than you, Salthu," he told her, patting her hand before stepping up to the table, pressing his palms on the wood. The Elders stared at him expectantly, and Brokil took in a breath. "The prince has been taken from us."

Instantly the Elders were on their feet, all shouting over each other, blaring their questions and demands at Brokil. He expected no less from them, and he knew that if he were in their position, he would be doing the same thing. He let them yell, let them get the energy of this discovery out before they got to work with their plans.

When enough was enough, Brokil lifted a hand to silence them, taking another breath when the screaming turned to murmuring until it stopped altogether. "I am calling for us to pool our resources to find him. I found blood in the meadows and believe he was taken against his will. I don't think I need to point out the position we'll be in if we don't return him to Ghizol."

The murmuring picked up and the Elders began to debate among themselves. Brokil let them talk, glancing over at Salthu, his exhaustion apparent. She stepped over to him, leaning up to whisper. "Should I retrieve Murzush for this? She's our best tracker."

Brokil nodded. "Please. She'll know where to start. Thank you, Salthu.

If anyone could track down where the prince had been taken, it would be Murzush. She tracked him that first day when the slave traders took him, and before that she tracked the caravan that the prince was in with enough skill that his entire troop had been able to remain hidden until it was time to strike. There was no one better for the job than Murzush.

When Salthu slipped out the door, the murmuring died down and the Elders turned their gazes to Brokil.

"We will answer the call for resources to search for the prince," Bashuk said, standing up from her seat. "Are you certain he was taken by force?"

Brokil nodded, the confirmation of it twisting his stomach. "I found blood in the meadows and signs of a struggle. Salthu is retrieving Murzush so we can utilize her tracking knowledge to find him."

"Do you have any idea of who could have done it?" Naguk asked, leaning back in his chair. "We spoke earlier of your tense conversation with Vakmu. Do you believe it could have been him?"

The possibility sent fire shooting through his veins. Vakmu couldn't be foolish enough to do something so brazen, could he? If he was, Brokil needed to get Silvyr back to Ghizol before it was too late. The Bravrith orcs under Vakmu's leadership were not a peaceful people, and they were known to torture and maim to achieve their ends. It was no secret that Vakmu frequently ignored his council of Elders to achieve his own ends, and hurting Silvyr to meet those ends wouldn't be an outlandish claim.

"I don't want to exclude that possibility. It would be wise for us to send emissaries to find out," Brokil said, trying not to betray the fury pooling in his stomach at the idea that Silvyr was at Vakmu's mercy.

"We will send an emissary when the sun rises," Bashuk agreed, the rest of the Elders nodding and mumbling their own agreement.

Morning was too far off. They couldn't wait that long, could they? If Silvyr was in Bravrith, waiting until morning would give them too much time to hurt him. Sending an emissary in the middle of the night, however, was also out of the question. If Silvyr wasn't taken by the Bravrith orcs, then it would be seen as an act of hostility that they couldn't afford.

"Send the emissary earlier. I want them to arrive in Bravrith in the morning," Brokil said. He would not concede otherwise. The Elders glanced at each other, but none spoke against him.

In the meantime, there wasn't much more they could do until Murzush started tracking. Once she began her work, the Elders could do more to figure out how to get Silvyr back in Ghizol. Brokil excused himself from the Council Chamber and into the night air. He took a long breath, swallowing his desire to scream into the sky, demanding Silvyr be returned to him, and headed for home.

Wherever Silvyr was, he needed to believe that Silvyr was safe. The blood in the meadows gave Brokil little hope in that matter, but he needed to believe that Silvyr would be returned to Ghizol. To him.

Silvyr was strong, Brokil knew that. He could only hope that the flames burning behind his eyes would propel the elf and keep him from breaking under whatever pressure he faced. That he knew in his soul that Brokil would not let Silvyr wallow and waste away, and that he would do whatever it took to bring Silvyr back. It didn't matter who took him, they would not receive Brokil's mercy if they laid a single finger on his elf.

"Chief."

Brokil turned to face Salthu who strode up behind him, her lips in a straight line and eyebrows furrowed in stern rage. "Salthu. Is Murzush in the meadows already?"

"Murzush isn't in her home. I can't find her anywhere," Salthu said. It made no sense. Brokil turned to look in the direction of Murzush's homestead, trying to think of where she could be at this hour. "I think we need to talk."

Brokil turned back to Salthu, his throat dry at the tone in her voice. Still, he nodded. "Come then, we can talk in my home."

They walked to his homestead and Brokil opened the door for her. They were greeted by dimmed embers, and Brokil moved to the fireplace to add a few logs to the flames to give them extra light and warmth. Salthu took a seat on the rug and Brokil joined her, pushing away the mess of blankets and pillows Silvyr left behind.

"I believe Murzush has something to do with the prince's disappearance," Salthu said, so simply and easily that Brokil nearly recoiled.

"What?"

"Murzush has expressed to me more than once that she doesn't agree with your direction in treating the prince, or how we're upholding our end of the negotiations," Salthu explained to him.

That alone wasn't enough reason. After all, Salthu had expressed the same thing. "I don't see how that means Murzush was involved somehow."

"It's suspicious to me that Murzush is gone, and so is the prince," she said, crossing her arms. Brokil could understand that suspicion, but there had to be another reason. Murzush wouldn't do something that could put Ghizol in danger. Salthu continued. "When she spoke with you the other day, she came to me afterwards and asked if I was willing to do anything to protect Ghizol. I said I would, because of course I would. Then she just left. She's never done that before, not with me. I know I don't have evidence to back up what I think, but you can call it a gut instinct."

Brokil stared at her, praying that she was wrong. Praying that Murzush wouldn't betray Ghizol that way. To what end? Where would she go with the prince, and how would she do whatever she was planning? If she was even involved.

"I hope your instincts are wrong," Brokil admitted, rubbing his face with his hands.

"I do too," Salthu said, standing up. "I'm going to look one more time. We'll be meeting in the Council Chamber in the morning."

Brokil stood as well, walking Salthu to the door and opening it for her. "I will see you in the morning then. Find Murzush so we can get the prince back."

"If she's in Ghizol, I will find her," Salthu said, bowing her head before turning away and walking down the path.

Brokil watched her for a moment before closing the door, leaving himself in silence. He knew he should try to sleep, as the days until Silvyr returned would be long and arduous. Yet the idea of returning to his empty bed was unfathomable. As foolish as it made him, he didn't think he could sleep without the elf by his side. Didn't think he could wake up without him pressed against him, murmuring in his sleep.

Pacing the home, Brokil could only hope his elf realized his strength and would use it until Brokil could use his own to protect him.

???

Before the sun rose, Brokil was in the Council Chamber. Sleep didn't come to him that night, and instead of wasting his time trying and failing, he spent his time planning and allocating resources for the retrieval of Silvyr instead. They had several trackers other than Murzush that they could use if the worst case proved to be true, and they had plenty of warriors to accompany them. Brokil would be among them. Nothing anyone said or did would change that. He wouldn't let Silvyr sit and think Brokil wouldn't be coming for him, wherever he was.

Unsurprisingly, Salthu stepped into the Council Chamber before any of the Elders. Brokil glanced out the windows, noting that the sun's rays were barely peeking over the horizon. It would be some time before the Elders entered for the work ahead of them. Salthu took her seat beside Brokil, immediately pulling a few of the papers toward herself.

"Did you find Murzush?" Brokil asked, setting down his quill.

"No."

Rubbing his face, Brokil had to prepare himself for the worst. If Murzush truly took Silvyr, there had to be an explanation for it. There had to be a reason why she didn't tell Brokil or Salthu or any of the Elders. It made no sense.

"She might already be tracking him," Brokil said, desperately grasping for another reason why she would be missing.

Salthu eyed Brokil but said nothing. She was skeptical, and while he truly couldn't see their friend betraying them so suddenly, he appreciated that Salthu was remaining pragmatic while his entire head spun with possibilities.

Bit by bit, the Elders entered the Council Chamber, keeping their voices low and conversations to themselves while Brokil sorted through their resources and how they would adjust them to search for the prince. Salthu leaned back in her chair, looking over the gathering, surely looking for any sign of Murzush. Once the chamber filled and there was no sign of Murzush, Salthu turned to Brokil and just shook her head.

No matter. Brokil would continue regardless. As he moved to stand, the doors burst open and one of their warriors, Girn, threw himself into the chamber.

"Chief! You must come quickly," he said through heavy pants.

Fearing the worst, fearing it was Silvyr, Brokil tore away from the table with Salthu close behind. Girn led them outside where the emissary they had sent hours ago was sitting in the open space before the Council Chamber, beaten and bloodied. Beside him, just as beaten and bruised, Murzush sat on her knees, arms tied behind her back with a squad of warriors around her.

"What is the meaning of this?" Brokil demanded, stepping up to them. Murzush said nothing, but Brokil didn't like the look in her eyes.

"Chief. When we were escorting the emissary to Bravrith, we found Murzush on the borders and she attacked us," one of his soldiers, Dakmar, told him as he stepped up to Brokil, arms behind his back.

"She attacked you?" Brokil glanced at Murzush, unable to believe it, but with their emissary looking like he had been mauled, he couldn't think of another reason. "Bring him to Urzul. Murzush, what is going on?"

He needed to know that there was an explanation for this. He needed Murzush to tell him it was a misunderstanding. He needed to know that Silvyr was safe.

Murzush wouldn't answer him, she only looked to the side, forcing Brokil's heart deeper into the pit of his stomach.

"We found this on her, chief," Dakmar said, holding out a crumpled scroll to Brokil.

Brokil took it, a lump forming in his throat as he opened it and something tumbled into his hand. He nearly wretched. Three small, pale fingernails had been hidden inside the curled, bloodstained, parchment. Silvyr.

Clenching his jaw, Brokil read through the scroll, and with each word the worry that had pitted itself in him swirled into a maelstrom of rage. "You helped Vakmu take the prince to Bravrith," Brokil snarled at Murzush.

Finally, Murzush turned to look at him, glare boring into him. "It had to be done," she said.

Curling his hand into a fist, crumpling the paper—fucking demands for the Tyrant King from Bravrith—Brokil shook with newfound anger. "Why would you let Ghizol burn?"

"You were the one letting Ghizol burn," Murzush shot back at him, spitting on the ground between them. "You were content to wait and do nothing to force the Tyrant King's hand. Bravrith is not so cowardly."

"Bravrith demanded the Tyrant King burn Ghizol to the ground! Did you read any of what they demanded? Did you read how Bravrith would have let the Tyrant King salt the earth of Ghizol?" Brokil took a single step closer to Murzush, barely able to see her through the hazy red of his fury.

"It is your own fault. Perhaps if you weren't so busy fucking the ransom, you would have done what was needed. Vakmu would be a better leader for Ghizol," Murzush growled, baring her teeth at him until her tusks dug deep into her upper lip. "Chief Thrakil would spit in your face at what you've done to Ghizol. We are weak because of you."

Murzush's words struck a blade deep in Brokil's chest. A beast snarled within him, caged within his ribs, thrashing against them and demanding to break free.

Brokil stared at Murzush, and for the first time in his life, he wanted to strike her down and send her to the hells. Salthu's hand on his shoulder was the only thing that stopped him from acting on his selfish impulses. Her hand on his shoulder was the only thing keeping the raging beast within him from tearing free. Salthu was the only thing keeping Murzush's blood from staining his hands.

"Bring her below the chamber," Salthu said, letting Brokil fume. The warriors around them didn't hesitate to pull Murzush off the ground, shoving her into the Council Chamber to bring her below its depths.

In the silence of the early morning, Brokil stared at the spot on the ground where Murzush had been. The depths of her betrayal couldn't go unpunished, and yet her words still echoed in his head. Was it truly his fault?

"Is Murzush correct, Salthu?" he asked, unable to look away from the blood staining the dirt.

Had he caused Ghizol's downfall? Had he made the wrong decision to choose peace over war? When had peace become a weakness?

"No." Simple, to the point. "And now we must rally the troops. Bravrith will not get away with this, neither will Murzush," she said, squeezing his shoulder. "The Elders will agree. Come, we need to discuss this with them."

Brokil followed Salthu back into the Council Chamber, heart hammering and head spinning. Silvyr's fingernails in his hand solidified his fears. He needed his elf to be strong, to hold on just a little longer. He would be there soon.