“I—”
“You spoke it,” Chu declared expressionlessly.
She took a step toward him.
He lifted his hand her way.
She stopped.
“To hurt her. To hurt them. To hurt your sister, her man, their family, you spoke these words,” he stated. “And you did it for no other reason than to cause harm.”
“Please, let me—”
“This is our end.”
At his decree, she snapped her mouth shut right before her body locked in an effort to contain an abrupt, excruciating, head-to-toe pain.
Chu walked away.
And he did not look back.
92
The Spy
Tedrey
Go’Doan Temple, Fire City
FIRENZE
“You can speak in front of him.”
“But, Fenn—”
“I will not repeat myself.”
Tedrey sat next to his old lover—nay, his renewed lover, G’Fenn, ostensibly a Go’Doan priest, in reality a Rising general, and he did so quietly as he studied the priest standing across the table.
He was tight-faced and wished to be tight-lipped.
They did not trust Tedrey after the time he spent with Lorenz, the captain of Mars’s Trusted, and knowing he still spent time with him, as he was living with him.
However, Fenn knew Tedrey, or thought he did, and as he did, his old/new lover had been easy to convince that Tedrey was still a devout soldier for the cause.
Or, more to the point for Fenn, a devout worshipper of Fenn’s cock.
“We have received word,” the priest before them said tightly. “Prince True is now King True and he’s announced they will publicly execute not only our agent in Birchlire Castle, but all those who participated in the assassination of Queen Mercy.”
“King True?” Fenn asked quietly.
“Wilmer abdicated,” the man answered.
Tedrey sat still and watchful, and he did not hide he was the latter.
Considering this news, appearing watchful would not cause anyone concern as to why he was openly very much just so.
“This is unexpected,” Fenn murmured.
“That’s the least of what was unexpected, Fenn. For the birds take days to arrive and thus it is without a doubt that by now, our agent has not been executed, but drawn, butchered and quartered,” the soldier spat.
“By Vicee,” Fenn breathed. “They have not practiced that in—”
“Centuries,” the man finished for Fenn, and Tedrey tried to recall his name, he just couldn’t.
Too much on his mind.
He had to get better at that. Lorenz (and Faunus) had taught him that things such as names were important.
“The rest will be hung, if they have not been already. And True has offered a reward to anyone who brings forth news of our cause or those who have committed to it.”
“We have expected that and prepared for it,” Fenn dismissed.
“We did not expect and prepare for one of our most loyal soldiers and nineteen of our followers to find a humiliating death in front of the Dellish throngs of Notting Thicket,” the man returned.
Fenn had no reply to this, and Tedrey could understand why.
Honestly, if he was still truly committed to the cause (something he now knew he never really was, he was blindly committed to Fenn), knowing what befell those men would make him reflect long about the depth of that commitment.
Execution in Firenze for traitorous acts was expected.
The same in Wodell?
No.
The barbarity of being drawn and quartered?
Absolutely no.
“I must think on this,” Fenn muttered.
“They have several of our people here in Firenze that they’ve captured, Fenn. Not followers, priests. Our own. And they will walk into the pits. That is, after they’re tortured, which they’re being right now. Make no mistake.”
“They will say nothing under torture.”
The soldier seemed stunned. “That is your only concern? These men will lose their lives. Our brothers will lose their lives. They have five, that I know. They might have more. We’ve lost touch with them—”
“We did because they fled.”
“They fled because we bungled the attack here in Fire City and further failed them by putting G’Seph in charge of them.”
“And then they demonstrated they are weak and that their faith in our mission is unsound,” Fenn returned. “No man who committed to The Rising should have given up so easily.”
“Listen to what you say,” the man hissed. Lacking patience when the conversation began, he was running out now. “If this is true, are you so certain they will not share under torture?”
“They know little.”
“Pieces can be fit together, Fenn,” the priest retorted. “The attack in Fire City failed, and all who participated in it are dead. Some of the priests who masterminded it are in the necropolis, waiting for Mars’s return to be further tortured then executed. The assassination of Mercy succeeded, but the men who performed it will hang. However, they were captured, and they were not priests, so who knows what they will share under interrogation. The Enchantments did not fall and our losses there were grave. However, they took some alive, and no doubt the Nadirii are hard at work doing whatever they can to learn what those men know. And those bitches have magic. Rewards have been offered for information. If a few talk, and that leads to another few, and another, where will we be?”
He did not allow Fenn to answer.
He carried on to say, “And we don’t even know if we continue to have access to our treasury—”
“Enough,” Fenn bit.
But Tedrey was trying very hard not to straighten to attention in his chair.
Treasury?
What treasury?
“We cannot recruit if we cannot pay,” the soldier informed Fenn.
Pay?
Pay who?
“We’re done speaking,” Fenn decreed.
“We cannot possibly be done,” the priest refuted.
“For now, we are done speaking,” Fenn insisted. “I must think.”
“We must retreat, regroup, take stock. Like we did after we lost G’Dor. What we should have done after our attack on Catrame Palace failed. But Seph pushed.”
“Seph has been dealt with,” Fenn reminded him.
“Not quickly enough. Now we must pause before all is lost.”
“And perhaps we will, if you give me time to think,” Fenn snapped. “Not to mention, I must understand what the others are thinking and that will take the time you ask, for we have to wait for bloody birds.”
“Mars returns, and this is not good news for us. They have not forgotten.” The man cast a meaningful glance at Tedrey. “They are sniffing about our acolytes—”
“The Go’Ella know nothing,” Fenn reminded him.
“Are you so sure?” the soldier queried. “Are you sure they have not overheard anything? Are you sure no loyal soldier said something stupid during pillow talk? Are you? Because I’m not. At this point, I’m not sure of anything.”
Fenn made no response.
The soldier looked to Tedrey.
“Do you know anything, considering you’re so very close to the captain of the Trusted?” he demanded.
“I know what I’ve shared, what you’ve just shared,” Tedrey replied. “That they have not forgotten. That they have already connected G’Dor with The Rising, and although they have no evidence, they are operating on the fact that we infiltrated their land years ago. They have five priests, I know of no more, and they are interrogating them, not waiting for Mars. Though, when Mars returns, they will walk to the pits.”
“Other than that, you have nothing,” the man stated his question.
“Other than that, so far, no. However, I do remain in his confidence, even if he understands why I felt the need to return to my faith. That said, he hardly shares with me everything they
do to protect their realm.”
“And he knows you’re not of The Rising,” the soldier pressed.
Tedrey faked preening.
“For some time, up to the now, I live with him, his wife, let him fuck me, his wife watching, and no. They think I’m a teacher and a priest. Nothing more.”
“You’re certain?”
At that, Tedrey faked annoyance.
“I’m sure, but even if he suspected, I’ve said nothing and will say nothing,” Tedrey assured testily. “I want no noose around my neck. I want no pitch filling my lungs. What I want is our sacred gods revered throughout all lands. I managed to survive the last campaign. I managed to get close to the captain of the Trusted Ones. I am here. I did not flee. I withstood the abuse of our last general, and still I am dedicated to our mission. So, it would please me if you did not question my faithfulness. For it has been tested, sorely,” he threw out both hands, “and here I sit.”
He felt Fenn’s admiring gaze but did not break his own from the man before them.
“With that, I think we’re finished,” Fenn decreed.
The man glared at Tedrey, he shifted his glare to Fenn, then he stated, “I’m on record as feeling we should hold, for a time, examine what has happened, what was gained, what was lost, and only move forward when we have a solid plan that has a much larger hope of succeeding than the last three.”
“We killed Mercy,” Fenn pointed out.
“To what gain?” the man asked. “I still don’t know the point of that except to agitate a slew of Dellish against us.”
Fenn at first had no response, and Tedrey knew why this was as well.
Mercy’s death was Fenn’s plan.
And if it carried on seeming as it seemed, faulty, it would be Fenn who would have to answer for it.
They couldn’t possibly recruit more followers through assassinations and subsequent executions.
At least, not in Wodell.
Now, in Firenze…
“Mercy’s death was meant to further destabilize that regime,” Fenn muttered, not sounding as keen about that strategy as he once was.
“And instead, our agent was found out, Wilmer has stepped down, and we were counting on him to pave our way with his incompetent rule. Thus, in the end, what we’ve done is put a strong, beloved leader on the throne,” the man pointed out.
“Again, that was unforeseen,” Fenn returned through his teeth.
“A good deal has been unforeseen, Fenn,” the priest retorted. “Too much. Those who follow us will begin to think we’ve no idea what we’re doing. And frankly, I don’t blame them.”
The two men scowled at each other, but Fenn did not deign to reply to the soldier’s last comment.
“I’m on record,” the man repeated.
“So noted,” Fenn sighed.
More scowling was shared before the priest sent them both a dismissive glance, turned and stomped out of the room.
Fenn sighed again.
Tedrey weighed his next words before he stated quietly, “He is not wrong to be angry.”
Fenn’s, “I know,” came out on a resigned breath.
“Mars returns, Lorenz shared that with me,” Tedrey told him something he’d already shared. “He should be home in but weeks. He’s likely already on his way.”
“Yes,” Fenn murmured.
“We need cohesion, Fenn,” Tedrey urged, ever attempting to appear loyal to the cause, but in truth, wishing to delay further offenses in the hopes of saving lives. “Our operations are in disarray. Perhaps a summit? The generals amassing to come to an agreement on a plan that can be carefully crafted before its carried forward?”
He kept his gaze keen on Fenn. His hope, in bringing up what he would say next, Fenn might share some things that Tedrey was not privy to, he dropped his voice and carried on.
“At the very least we need time to allay what are sure to be the fears of our followers, not to mention, recruit more. We’ve lost a good deal. I know not how many we have, but the loss in the attack on Catrame Palace alone numbered at least a hundred. I have heard murmurings about how those losses meant others in Firenze abandoned the cause. And that was before all that happened in Wodell.”
Fenn said nothing for long moments before he replied, “I must send birds. And I must think on what I’ll say in those birds.”
He was not going to share how many followers had been recruited across the realms.
Tedrey felt but hid the frustration that nagged inside him.
Fenn’s eyes were still on the door the priest had closed behind him.
He turned them to Tedrey.
“You may suckle me before you go back to your Trusted,” he declared, saying this like he was bestowing an honor on Tedrey.
This, most of all, took much from Tedrey.
He had no desire to even touch Fenn, much less do that to him.
And this was worse, for the moment Fenn had seen the scars Seph had left on Tedrey, he had not returned the favor of release, further sealing Tedrey’s understanding that he had decided irretrievably wrongly in his chosen one.
He thought Tedrey’s fixation with him was such that he would accept crumbs, when Tedrey had learned that the giving and receiving of true affection was akin to being offered an entire, multi-layered cake.
However, he managed to arrange his face in a semblance of passion that Fenn did not see through before Fenn pushed his chair back and Tedrey took his knees between the man’s legs.
As Fenn liked, Tedrey himself parted Fenn’s robes and exposed his hardened shaft, dipping his head to hide his distaste for it.
He then began to take care of that unpleasant business.
He hoped Fenn would not read his hurry as he performed his task. But he needed to get this done.
He had things to report.
As much as it seemed a desecration, a betrayal, regardless of the fact that Faunus had demanded he do thus, he closed his eyes and thought of Faunus as he did this, for he needed to think of his warrior in order to be able to fake any kind of enjoyment in the duty.
When he was finished, he hid his gag as he swallowed and allowed Fenn to stroke his hair and then his cheek as Tedrey released his cock and looked up at him.
“Such a pity,” Fenn murmured as he stared down at Tedrey.
Tedrey stiffened.
“Perhaps, some other time, I will…see to you in the dark,” Fenn offered.
“I would wish this,” Tedrey lied.
Fenn gave him a tolerant smile.
“Go, my Drey,” he bid.
Tedrey tried not to appear like he was rushing as he did just that.
And he did the same as he made his way through the streets of Fire City to the home of Nyx and Lorenz.
He also did this knowing he was followed.
Lorenz and Faunus (and Saturn) had drilled into him a variety of skills regarding how to observe without appearing to be observing, how to sense someone was watching when they wished to appear not to be doing so…
And how to know when he was being followed.
He did not breathe easy until he smelled the honeysuckle that grew abundantly at the side of Lorenz and Nyx’s manor.
Nyx greeted him as he walked through the back door.
She then proceeded to pretend she was not waiting anxiously for him to arrive, for Nyx very much did not like the danger he was putting himself in, and she did this by saying, “I’m off to spend some time with Zosime.”
“She’s off to cuddle and coo at Guard’s new daughter, whom she has become obsessed with, and even though she wants one of her own, she seems to have forgotten she needs to be in her husband’s bed to make one,” Lorenz, who’d appeared down the hall, noted.
Nyx shot him a killing look, and it was Tedrey hiding his anxiousness, for it seemed from the moment he started his role as a spy, there was growing discord between them.
She then kissed Tedrey’s cheek, slid beyond him and out the door, closing it soundly behind her without a farewell
to her husband.
Tedrey looked to Lorenz.
“If I’m—” he began.
Lorenz shook his head and interrupted him. “It is not the first time I’ve done something that vexes her. I will be at her side the entirety of my life. Thus, I suspect it will not be the last.” He tipped his head to the doorway at his side. “Come, let us have wine.”
He then disappeared into the parlor.
Tedrey followed him.
There was already a carafe of wine laid out along with some bowls of olives and almonds.
Lorenz poured and they settled before Tedrey shared, “I have some things to report.”
Lorenz leveled his eyes on Tedrey before he said in a quiet voice, “We are friends, and as such, I must remind you that you do not need to buy my attention or regard by providing information practically the moment you enter my house. We can chat, as friends, before you do what you perceive as your duty.”
“I know, however—”
“With recent events, it has become even more clear with the lengths to which these insurgents are willing to go that you take a grave risk with what you’re doing.”
Ah.
The reason why Nyx was vexed with Lorenz.
From the beginning, she did not like Tedrey was intent on doing what he was doing.
However, now…
“This is my choice, Lorenz,” he reminded his friend.
Lorenz sighed before he nodded that Tedrey proceed.
“They have a treasury,” Tedrey announced.
There was a slight titch in Lorenz’s eyebrows, but other than that, only the charged feel of the room betrayed his keenness for this information.
“Fenn and one of the soldiers of The Rising were arguing. It was mentioned,” Tedrey told him. “Fenn seems open about discussions in front of me. However, he covered this quickly and did not allow it to be discussed. That said, not only was it mentioned, it was noted that they might no longer have access to it and something about not being able to recruit if they could not pay.”
“The Dellish coin,” Lorenz murmured.
“Sorry?” Tedrey asked.
Lorenz took a drink of his wine before he sat back in his chair and stated, “Carrington. The traitor counsellor to Wilmer. He’s been stealing from their coffers for decades. They could not trace where that currency went. Carrington is likely now dead. If he’s hidden it, and not shared its whereabouts, The Rising will not have access to it.”
The Dawn of the End Page 11
