If you are hoping to light a fire of fear in me, you are too late… Before it ever came to a tribunal, I would promptly follow you into death.
My nails dug into my palms. “Sefa.”
Her blond “lover” could be none other than Marek. Hadn’t I questioned their history? Wondered after Marek’s specific knowledge of Nizahl’s customs? To be fair, not even the farthest limits of my imagination could have conjured the possibility of Sefa as the stepdaughter of the Supreme’s High Counselor.
“You would hinge their lives on my compliance?”
Like a stone against the surface of still water, the brutal efficiency of his plan rippled through me. If I left, he would haul Sefa and Marek to Nizahl to account for their crimes. Crimes I doubted had any basis in truth. Sefa wept at the sight of limping stray dogs and taught the girls in our keep how to braid their hair. She wouldn’t brutalize and rob her family. Marek… Marek might, but not without a reason.
If the High Counselor was anything like the Supreme, he would chain their carcasses on the Citadel’s gates. Their flesh would be a feast for the carrion-eaters.
A mirage standing by the river, a bare hand extended for mine. An impossible decision. And just as I was trapped then, I was wholly cornered now.
“Hundreds of lives hinge on your compliance,” Arin replied. “They are two of many. Yours is counted in the number. If you do not triumph in the Alcalah, the protection you are granted as a Champion will disappear. Felix is a prideful man. There will be no safety for you anywhere in Omal. If any patrol captures you in another kingdom, Felix will have the right as your true Heir to drag you to stand trial in his courts.” He didn’t need to finish. We both knew Felix would never suffer me to live long enough to stand trial after I lodged a knife in his leg and humiliated him.
There was more. There had to be. One doubt circled stubbornly to the forefront. “Why me?”
He withdrew, releasing me from his strange thrall. A beat of silence passed, and I gritted my teeth. Another instance of information he deemed privileged to himself only. He preferred to spin me where he aimed, ground me in half-truths and suspicion.
“You were fate’s choice, not mine. While I hunt the Jasadis who have slaughtered a legion of innocents from Orban to Lukub, they hunt you.”
After Arin left, the guards blindfolded and led me from the room. I strained my ears for the babble of the river or the rumble of carriages, any marker of our location. The crunch of leaves underfoot did not leave plenty for me to work with. Fresh air replaced the foul odor of decay, and I wondered who would be left with the miserable task of burying the deteriorated soldier.
“Will we be much longer?” I complained. Walking blind at the mercy of Nizahl guards wrought havoc on my nerves.
One of them exhaled. “Not much.”
“Do not indulge her,” came the other’s retort. The bald one? “Log.” They nudged me to the left.
“You saw him, Wes,” Jeru said, defensive. “I have never seen our liege in such a state.”
I tried to diminish my presence. They were speaking as though they had forgotten I stood between them. I was curious to hear what they had to say in the absence of their master.
A pregnant pause, then, “I have. Seen him in a similar state, I mean. I was appointed to his guard when he was sixteen.”
Apparently, this meant something to Jeru, because he bumped into me. “I thought only Vaun was present for that.”
“Vaun has been by his side since they were both old enough to carry a sword. They were friends long before Vaun became his guardsman. I was there when it happened, too.
“You should believe better of our Heir,” Wes continued, stern. “To think him capable of such a thing…”
Baffled as I was trying to parse out what could have happened to Arin at sixteen, it took me a second to catch up. “Oh dear, did you think lust overcame your Heir?” The very notion of the icy Nizahl Heir allowing a physical urge to overcome his ruthless control made me cackle.
“He was on top of you. The mistake could’ve been made by anyone,” Jeru snapped. “Wes is right. I should have known better.”
I couldn’t help myself. Angering Nizahlan men was just too diverting. “Are you calling your Commander frigid?” I winced at the resulting clench on my arm.
“You trespass your bounds,” Wes spat.
The events of the last two days had driven me into delirium. “Then redraw your maps, soldier. Haven’t you heard? I’m your Champion. The rules changed. No, they disappeared.” They lifted me again. The heels of my borrowed calfskin shoes brushed the prickly tops of a bush.