She is mine! A cold voice whispered to her. She stopped struggling and looked up to see him standing before her. The flames from behind ignited him in a ghostly aura and Myranda shuddered in fear as she looked upon the Lord of Death. Though she knew this was a dream, Rhada’s dream, she knew Amag’mar could see her. She knew he was aware of who she was and that she was trying to free Rhada’s mind of him, but he would not let it go.
“You are wrong.” Myranda said, hoping to not let fear get the better of her. She stood on shaking legs and glowered at the evil Sorcerer before her. His skin was pale and wrinkled with age but his eyes were livid.
She will be mine again. He said, though his lips did not move. Myranda saw from the corner of her eye a movement that made her turn her head. Rhada was still rushing forward with Bloodbinder and in one swift motion she connected Bloodbinder with Amag’mar’s neck. Had he really been standing before them, his head would have been removed from his shoulders. But as the steel of the blade made contact, Amag’mar vanished.
A sudden white light blinded Myranda. She cried out and fell, landing hard on something. She gasped in pain and felt cold hands reaching for her. They held to her shoulders and began pulling on her. She cried out and began smacking the hands away, and only when she opened her eyes and saw that it was Mayvard standing above her did she stop thrashing.
“You’re alright Myranda. You are safe.” She sat upright, realizing that she had fallen from the bed onto the stone floor. She wrapped her arms around Mayvard and allowed him to lift her. He carried her to Rhada’s winged chair and set her in it gently. He wiped a golden lock from her sweaty brow and smiled.
“Where is my pipe?” Rhada’s voice pulled both their gazes to her. She was pushing herself up to sit at the edge of the bed.
“Rhada?” Mayvard asked in disbelief. “Are you cured? Did Myranda save you?”
Rhada leaned forward and grinned in Myranda’s direction. “I believe that she has.”
Mayvard turned to Myranda and wrapped her in another embrace. “Thank you.” He whispered in her ear and she nodded.
“I was only doing my duty.” She said, not certain how she felt being responsible for saving the High Protector’s life.
“I need a bath, a pipe full of tobacco, and some silver spirit.” Rhada said, swinging her feet over the edge of her bed.
“I’ll fetch Valindra. She can get those things for you.” Myranda said.
“Darling, you are still shaking. Let me find the maid. You rest.” Mayvard stood with Myranda’s hands in his and kissed the tops of them gently. She smiled and nodded.
“Valindra should be in the dining hall eating with the other servants.”
Mayvard nodded and was out the door before either of them could say anything else.
Myranda felt Rhada’s gaze on her. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and turned her eyes towards the window, avoiding Rhada’s stare until she spoke.
“Thank you for saving me.” Rhada said in a quiet tone. Myranda turned to her and nodded.
“Like I said, I was only doing my duty.”
Rhada lowered her eyes and looked to her open palms. “Right.” She said, knowing that Myranda would not have done such a thing out of the kindness of her heart.
“Please don’t mention what you saw to Mayvard… or to anyone.” Rhada begged, looking back to Myranda with a soft gaze. Myranda nodded in compliance. She would never mention what she witnessed to anyone, for she desired nothing more than to forget it all. She turned back to the window, hoping that Mayvard would return quickly.
Chapter 14
Valindra returned with Rhada’s newly cleaned leathers, all folded and stacked neatly in her arms.
“You can set them there.” Rhada said, pointing to a small table on the opposite wall of her bathroom. She was in her bath, soaking in clean, soapy water, her smoking pipe resting in her hand. She pulled the smoldering pipe to her lips and inhaled deeply, feeling the burn of the tobacco in the back of her throat. She exhaled and slid farther into the tub, having already washed the dirt and grime away, she was now just enjoying the warmth of the water.
“Will that be all, Madam Protector?” Valindra asked in a soft, timid voice. Rhada nodded and waved the young girl away, trying not to take notice of how quickly the maid dashed from the room.
Rhada knew that word of her return had to have reached the King’s ears by now, but she was in no hurry to present herself to him, not until she’d properly cleaned herself. She needed time to gather her thoughts, to prepare what she was going to say to him exactly. She had returned with the burden of very bad news and the King was not one to take bad news lightly. She knew fearing for her life was not an unwarranted anxiety.
Once the tobacco in her pipe was gone, she could no longer ignore the duties that were calling to her. She stepped out of the tub and dressed herself quickly. She ran a comb through her tangled hair and left it down to dry. She walked through the privy back to her chamber and grabbed Bloodbinder before heading to the King’s private dining room. It was a large, rectangular room, three floors above the great hall, with a bear-skin rug lining the floor and a large dining table that matched the shape of the room. There was a main hearth that stretched from wall to wall and when Rhada entered the room, the light of the blaze from within ignited her soul with warmth. The warmth quickly faded, however, when her eyes met the King’s.
He was sitting at the center of the table on the east wall, staring into the flames. His plate of pork and fruit sat untouched in front of him and his golden goblet was filled to the brim with red wine. The Queen sat next to him, stroking his arm with her fingertips. Her food had all been eaten and her wine, drunk. She stared up to Rhada with sparkling eyes and her hair resembled the color of blood in the firelight.
“Rhada.” The King said, pulling her attention back to him. “Glad to see you have finally returned to us.”
“It is good to be home.” Rhada replied, though she knew her tone did not hide the lie from the King.
Queen Scarlet leaned to the side and gently kissed the King’s cheek. She stood and walked around the table and smiled at Rhada before leaving them to their business.
“Sit.” Firion commanded, pointing to the chair at the head of the table. Rhada did as she was told, lifting Bloodbinder as she sat.
King Firion snapped his fingers and a young boy raced from his perch against the wall to be at the King’s side.
“Yes, your Grace?” He asked.
“Well, what do you think? Fetch the High Protector some supper and wine!” Firion said in anger. The boy bowed and stumbled away, hastily retreating to the servant’s station at the back of the room. Firion shook his head at the sound of clanging dishes and something dropping to the floor and shattering.
“It seems competent help is a rare commodity these days.” He said. Rhada smirked but said nothing. She wondered briefly where Terryn was but decided it best not to ask. In all likeliness the King had fired him for something foolish. When the boy returned with food and wine, he set them down in front of her with shaking hands.
“Would the H…High Protector like anything else?”
“No.” Rhada said curtly, waving the boy away. Though she was famished, she reached over her food and grabbed the wine. It tasted of cherries and honey and smoothly slid down her throat in a satisfying torrent.
The King watched her with a stern, bordering on suspicious gaze. She tried to keep her eyes focused on the rim of her glass as she drank, but finally could no longer avoid him. She set the glass aside and returned the cold stare. She had often wondered if Firion disliked her and only tolerated her because he had to. She realized, as she looked into his dark, unfriendly eyes, that she did not care.
“I have news that I think you’ll find interesting.” The King said, taking Rhada by surprise. She expected him to first inquire as to the troubles up north.
“Go on.” Rhada prompted.
The King reached for his goblet, took a long sip, then sat up
straight, leaned forward and rested his elbows upon the tabletop, his fingers intertwining.
“Are you aware that we are on the brink of war?” He asked in a quiet, almost playful tone.
Rhada slightly narrowed her eyes, knowing the King was mocking her assumed ignorance. She was infuriated at the notion that he could be angry with her. Does he not realize it was by his own will I was sent north? How did he expect me to take action to protect him here whilst he sent me on a quest to the far end of the realm?
Rhada cleared her throat and buried her anger deep inside, knowing she could not show any cheek to the King.
“I am aware.” She replied.
“Then you know the entire realm has turned against us?”
Rhada reached for her wine and took another sip before answering. “To say the entire realm is a bit of an embellishment, do you not think? There are territories who have not answered Lord Ivran’s call. And if I am not mistaken, Bhrys is still under question as to which side they will choose?” Rhada noticed the way the King stiffened at the mention of Bhrys.
“If that wretched Sorceress has any brains in her head, there will be no question as to where her loyalties should lie.”
“Yes, sending eight thousand men to her doorstep should do the job nicely.” Rhada knew, by the way the King scowled, her tone had given away her remark as sarcasm.
“You do not agree with my decision to scare Lady Omylia into compliance?” He asked, daring her to object.
“I do not agree that sending the entire army away when we are, as you say, on the brink of war, was the best idea. You do realize you have left yourself completely unguarded?”
The King’s face flushed in anger. “Perhaps if you had been here to make the decision yourself…”
“I was in Tyos, per your orders.” Rhada said before drinking more wine. She had, over the years, grown accustomed to his anger and was the only person besides the Queen who could combat him in conversation without fear of losing their head. For Rhada, it was Bloodbinder that kept the King’s anger at bay. Should he have her executed, the sword would be passed on to an unworthy soul and he would be in danger of being left with an incompetent guardian.
“Do you wish to hear the news I have brought from the north?”
The King shook his head. “Unless those wretches have turned against me as well, I care nothing for it.” He snapped his fingers for more wine and the page was at his side in a hurry, the carafe in his hands shaking.
“You need not worry about the people of Tyos, your Grace. They cannot turn against you because they are all dead.” The King and the page both turned to Rhada and stared in silent disbelief. Wine began to spill over the top of the King’s goblet. He jumped to his feet and held the overfilled goblet out. The draping sleeve of his robes now dripped with the red liquid. The page took a step back and began apologizing in a panic.
“You fool!” The King shouted.
“Apologies, your Grace. Let me get you a towel.”
“Just set the carafe down and leave us!” The boy seemed all too excited at the prospect of being excused. He left the room without another word.
The King mumbled something incoherent as he set his goblet on the table and began wiping angrily at his sleeve. Rhada waited patiently as he composed himself and took his seat.
“Dead, you say?” The King asked once he was calm.
“Yes.” Rhada replied in annoyance.
“How is that possible?”
“It was as the Sorceress said- a wave of flame and water destroyed the city. But that is not all-” Rhada was interrupted by the King’s scoff. He raised a hand to silence her.
“It matters not. I’ve no time to worry about Tyos and the impending war.”
“Majesty, I think you should hear…”
“I said enough!” The King shouted. Rhada leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest angrily.
“I want us to focus on the task at hand. Lord Ivran and his cronies must be dealt with. Once you have taught them a lesson, then we can discuss Tyos.”
“And what lesson would you have me teach?” Rhada was certain she knew the answer the King would give. He was not known for his leniency.
“When the army returns, you are to destroy Ivran’s forces, but I want him brought back alive. I have plans for him.”
“Fine.” Rhada accepted the King’s request. She felt a sudden pang of sadness for Lord Ivran, however. Though he was her biggest enemy at the moment, becoming a prisoner of the King was not something she would wish upon anyone. But she would comply for the sake of peace. Ivran must have known the possible consequences of starting a rebellion.
“Then you will travel to Ylia and destroy it. I want that wife of his hung in the bailey for all his people to see. I want you to set fire to his precious city! I want to sit upon my balcony and see smoke from the flames rising in the distance!”
Rhada tensed in her chair and grasped the hilt of Bloodbinder. A sudden urge to kill the King had come over her and it took all her strength to fight against it. She would feel no sorrow for ridding the realm of him, but if she killed him, her life would be over as well. And when she looked at him, she could not help seeing the child she had once known, running to his mother from a scraped knee, or listening to his father’s instruction with unwavering interest; a young son determined to make his father proud. The King had not always been like this, full of anger and malice. There was a good person buried somewhere deep within him. And it was the memory of his father that kept her sword hand steady. King Darrion had never known the man who sat before her. He had known the young, timid boy, full of life and a desire for adventure. She could not betray his memory by murdering his only son. She decided she needed to try to talk some sense into him.
“You cannot mean that.” She said. She took another sip to calm her nerves and watched as the King stood and walked around the table to the hearth. He had his back to her, staring into the flames.
“Have you ever known me to exaggerate my instructions?” He glanced over his shoulder at her.
“I agree that Ivran and those who support him must be punished, but the innocent people of Ylia should not suffer for their Lord’s mistake. With Ivran gone, they can elect a new leader, one who will serve respectfully under your rule. Ylia will bow humbly after their Lord’s defeat. They will not dare defy you again. And as for Lord Ivran’s wife,” Rhada sat up taller, taking her hand off Bloodbinder, “she will be exiled by her own people.”
“It is not good enough.” The King spun around and glowered at Rhada. “Are you afraid of dealing punishment where it is deserved?”
Rhada glowered back at the King. “I am afraid of dealing punishment where it is not deserved. Many tyrants of the past ruled in this manner and as history has taught us, though the people are afraid, they will not yield for long.”
“Are you calling me a tyrant?” The King nearly dropped his goblet as he swung it around. His eyes were wrought with anger and possessed a look that wanted to kill.
Rhada placed her palms upon the table and pushed herself to her feet. “The people of this realm have been saying such and worse for years now.”
“They are all traitors!”
“There was a time when the realm did not desire to rebel, a time where peace was a part of everyday life. They did not defy your father as they do you. They loved your father, the man who ruled them with a caring hand.”
“Do not speak to me of my father!” The King stepped closer to Rhada but she would not back down.
“There was a time the realm loved me as well. Now they are sending assassins to kill me.”
“And I suppose you’re going to say that is my fault as well?”
“Yes.” Rhada said plainly.
She knew the slap was coming perhaps even before the King did. She could see it in the way his anger boiled beneath his skin and made him flinch. She saw his fingers curl and tense, then unravel and straighten stiff as a board. She watched in silence as his
hand raised and came swinging at her. But she did not flinch. The force of his hand sent a wave of stinging pain through her jaw and cheek and forced her head to turn to the side. Had she not been holding to the table for support, she would have stumbled.
He drew in close to her turned face and spoke softly but sternly into her ear. “You listen to me very carefully. You may consider yourself an equal behind these walls, but you are not. You are my servant, sworn by oath to obey and protect me. It is not your place to question my commands. It is your place to receive them and execute them without opening that sharp mouth of yours!”
Rhada turned back to face the King and stiffened. She wanted to tell him that had it not been for her, he would have been killed long ago, that the only reason he kept his throne was because she spent her days fighting to protect it. She wanted to tell him the only reason she did not kill him now was because of the love she had for his father. Her sword hand began to shake and Bloodbinder was becoming restless at her side, but she steadied herself and said nothing.
The King’s eyes did not soften as he stared at her, daring her to make a move. When it became apparent she would not, he smiled at her triumphantly then pointed at her plate.
“Eat your supper. You look as though you’re half starved. How are you to fight my enemies when you are all skin and bone?” He turned back to the fire and continued sipping his wine, while Rhada took her seat in a huff of anger and stared at her food as though it were poisoned. But she lifted her fork and ate, nonetheless. She ate until there was not a bite left on her plate. When she was finished she stood, making the King turn back to her as her chair scraped across the floor.
Rise of Darkness (The Watchers Book 2) Page 14
