Wrath Games

by B. T. Narro

  He took his crown into his hands, sat with a sigh, and told me, “I know I said that you could leave for Cessri.” The need to smile was gone. “However, I will send someone else in your stead. He will make sure your aunt has everything she needs and report her status back to you.”

  “May I ask why I cannot go myself?”

  “I need you here, training, until we decide which division of my army will benefit the most from a pyforial mage.”

  “Will I be sent into enemy territory?”

  “The army commander, Jaymes Jorgan, can answer this better than I can after a few days with you. You will see him soon.”

  I’d better kill Swenn before I’m forced to leave.

  “If you understand, say something or bow your head,” one of the king’s guards admonished, his tone as if I was an impudent child.

  So I bowed.

  “Before your training begins,” Quince continued, “there are two other matters we need to discuss. The master of coin has your dalions. You and Shara will wait outside his quarters next door until he’s ready to see you. She should be there by now.”

  “Thank you.” Worried that Swenn would have it destroyed, I’d been keeping my redemption scroll in my pocket.

  “The last is a warning.” The king’s foreboding tone made me feel like I’d already disappointed him. “Manipulating pyforial energy is still illegal. Many people don’t know about you, and they cannot find out. You are not to use the energy except when instructed by Commander Jaymes. I am trusting you, Neeko, and if my trust is broken there will be severe consequences. It is not too late for you to change your mind. Terren’s party is still interested in taking you to Ovira, so if you want to use the energy freely, then you should think twice about your decision.”

  “I appreciate your trust. I will not take advantage of it.”

  This put a smile on his face. He nodded at a guard near the door, who promptly opened it and stared at me expectantly.

  As I left the room, Quince said, “Be careful with Commander Jaymes. The other mages might be dangerous.”

  Other mages? As in pyforial mages? I turned to ask but was pushed into the hallway by a firm shove before the door shut behind me.

  I heard Shara’s laughter down the hall. She faced Henry, reading one of his tiny scrolls. Surprise hit me when I found him smiling at her.

  “Shara!” I called. “Come here.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I’m not some dog.”

  When she didn’t move, I hurried over, gently took her by the arm, and dragged her away from Henry. Or so I tried. He followed us closely enough that I couldn’t even whisper without him hearing.

  “What are you doing, Neeko?” Shara complained. “We have to stay near Swenn’s door to get our dalions.”

  I ignored her for the moment, glaring at Henry behind us. “Can you give us a moment, please?”

  Two low whistles—“no.”

  “Don’t worry,” Shara told him, patting his shoulder. “Neeko won’t hurt me.”

  Henry’s blank expression was unreadable.

  “That’s not why he’s following us,” I informed her.

  She pursed her lips. “Why, then?”

  Unable to get away from Henry, I just decided to say it. “He’s Swenn’s eyes and ears.”

  “Oh.”

  I expected some confirmation from Henry, but he didn’t even react.

  “Come on,” someone called from behind us. “Let’s get this done quickly.” Swenn had the door to his quarters open, his arms folded.

  Henry followed us inside.

  “Shut the door,” Swenn told him.

  He did, then leaned against it as he eyed me.

  Swenn stared, trying to will words out of us.

  “You’re sick,” Shara blurted.

  “So I see Neeko told you about me.”

  Gods, now Shara was just as much of a threat to Swenn as I was.

  “No need to speak,” I advised her, showing Swenn my redemption scroll. She did the same.

  He took two pouches from his pocket and tossed one to each of us. I looked inside mine to find two dalions.

  “Not going to say thank you?” Swenn teased.

  I inspected the room for possible hiding spots, somewhere I could put myself without him knowing. His wardrobe, the space beneath his bed, his balcony if I could keep its doors shut.

  Swenn forced out a chuckle. “I wouldn’t kill you in my own room with Shara here as well. It would be too messy.” He must’ve thought I was looking for a trap.

  “How in the two hells did you become the master of coin?” I asked.

  He ran his thumb across his nails and looked right into my eyes.

  “I worked hard, met the right people, and took opportunities when they came—something you should do if you want to live. Terren’s party won’t settle for any pyforial mage.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  Swenn stepped toward Shara. “You have more than yourself to worry about.” He reached his hand near her chin. She stepped away. “Henry, this one doesn’t want to cooperate.”

  The silent henchman trudged in our direction.

  “He would never hurt me,” Shara declared with surprising confidence. “He’s kindhearted.”

  “He doesn’t need to hurt you to make you cooperate.”

  Henry took Shara’s shoulders from behind, holding her still. Swenn watched me as he moved his hand under her chin, then around to her cheek. This was a test of some sort.

  “Get your disgusting hands off my face.”

  He ignored her. “You don’t mind, Neeko?”

  I didn’t speak.

  He smiled. “How much do you mind?”

  I revealed nothing.

  Swenn brought his hand down to the collar of Shara’s shirt. He pried open one button, then glanced at me. I didn’t move.

  He undid another button. I still didn’t move.

  When he undid the third and raised his eyebrows as the top of her bosom was revealed, I couldn’t hold back my anger any longer, my face contorting.

  Shara kicked him in the shin. He yelped and grabbed his leg, fury flooding his eyes. He backhanded her across the face, her shoulders still in Henry’s grasp. I lost control of myself, running at Swenn and lowering my shoulder. Something took me off my feet before I got there. As I hit the ground, I realized it must’ve been Henry.

  He was on top of me before I could jump up. I couldn’t breathe with him sitting on my chest.

  I pulled pyforial energy from both sides, gathering it beneath the sides of Henry’s ass. With all my strength, I forced the energy up and away, pushing on his back with my hands.

  Without a sound, Henry flew off me and tumbled across the floor. He was slow to his feet, staring at me with gaping eyes.

  “Neeko, Neeko, Neeko,” Swenn chided. “Didn’t King Quince talk to you about using pyforial energy? What a shame it would be for you to break his trust not even an hour after he warned you.”

  The shock widening Henry’s eyes deepened, his mouth falling open.

  “Yes, it was pyforial energy,” Swenn confirmed.

  Henry drew his long sword.

  Shara fell over backward in her hurry to get away. I pulled her up and moved her behind me.

  “No need for that, Henry.” Swenn spoke calmly. “I’ve learned what I needed to know. He’ll protect Shara at all costs.” His gaze returned to me. “A great vulnerability—something that doesn’t burden me.”

  “Don’t listen to him.” Shara took my hand. She didn’t stop pulling me until we were out of the room and far down the hall. There, she let go to take my shoulders. “I can keep myself safe. Don’t let him think he can manipulate you.”

  “No, Shara, he’s right. You shouldn’t be in the castle.”

  She shushed me as she rebuttoned her shirt and looked around for listening ears.

  We walked all the way across the castle, remaining silent until we came to my room and closed the door.

  “You
’re letting him get in your mind,” she said. “You can’t do that.”

  “It doesn’t matter when it’s true. You’re in danger here.”

  “I’m not leaving. They told me I’m meeting the army commander today. I could actually do some good for our kingdom and make decent money. More than that, we get to stay in the castle! I’m not going to let one person ruin it all.” She poked me in the chest. “You aren’t, either.”

  “Shara—”

  “Neeko.” She folded her arms and set her jaw. “Don’t ask me to leave on my own. If anyone’s going to leave, it’ll be both of us, together, and we’ll go to Ovira.”

  I couldn’t argue with that, not when she was right.

  She surprised me with a hug. I pressed her against my chest, my worries slowly disappearing as the feel of her body took over my mind.

  “But I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” she said.

  “Will you help me protect you, then?”

  “How?”

  “Help me figure out how to kill Swenn.”

  We finally parted, the sadness of her piercing brown eyes nearly pulling my heart out of my chest.

  “I…have to think about that,” she replied.

  “He’s not human.”

  “He is.”

  Someone started to unlock my door. Shara jumped.

  “It’s probably Henry,” I told her.

  Soon the door eased open and in stepped Henry.

  “Get out of here!” Shara yelled at him.

  I put my hand on her back. “He won’t leave.”

  Henry sat and leisurely pulled an apple from his pocket, as if the events that had just happened were decades ago.

  “You’re a disgraceful, horrible man!” Shara screamed. “Holding a woman so another man can dishonor her. I can’t believe—”

  I covered her mouth. “At least let me get the door closed.”

  A heavy silence settled over the room after I shut it. Henry handed me a scroll.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I read it aloud to Shara.

  She started to sing in an angry tone. “That’s not good enough. Everything you say could be a lie or a bluff. Will you do it again? How many times, five, ten? Is he paying you money?” She scoffed. “And I thought you were funny.”

  Henry stopped chewing, tilting his head at her with a bemused grin.

  Shara furiously thrust her finger at his face. “Yes, I sing sometimes! So what!”

  He stood and lightly applauded.

  “I can’t tell if you’re doing that facetiously.” Her tone reflected her continued annoyance.

  He folded his arms and made a show of putting on a serious face.

  “Are you truly sorry?” she prodded.

  He whistled twice, two high notes.

  “That means yes,” I told her.

  He reached into his pocket and handed me another tiny scroll. “It’s an honor to meet a pyforial mage.”

  I grumbled and showed it to Shara.

  “He sure makes it hard to stay mad at him,” she said.

  “Maybe that’s the point.”

  “You’re right! He’s just a big liar!” She shoved Henry with all her might, letting out a loud grunt. He didn’t move, while she stumbled backward. I caught her before she fell.

  My door swung open. Darri rushed in, his face flushed. “What are you doing in here! You’re late meeting Commander Jaymes and he’s furious.”

  We ran with Darri, exchanging surprised glances when he led us through the southern inner courtyard.

  “Are we meeting him outside the castle?” I asked.

  “In the outer courtyard. Your horses are ready.”

  We’d passed beneath the barbican separating the two courtyards when a man clad in a steel breastplate began to yell. He stood in the center of the outer courtyard—right on top of the “D” to represent our kingdom’s sigil of a dalion.

  “You’re late, recruits! That’s five pits off your salary for the week.”

  “No one told us we had to meet you here,” Shara argued as we closed in.

  “That’s another five pits for talking back, Shara Solo H.”

  “That’s not fair to her,” I blurted.

  “Well then let’s make it fair! Another five pits off your salary as well. That’s one ruff less to each of you.”

  “How much is our salary?” Shara asked.

  Darri scoffed in disbelief. “Are you stupid? You need to shut up.”

  “You are dismissed, Darri,” the commander told him.

  “Thank you, sir.” He walked off.

  “Get on your horses, now!” Would this man ever stop screaming?

  Shara and I had never mounted so quickly. Vkar seemed well-rested, as did Shara’s horse, Whitspur. I would’ve been relieved to know they were cared for if I wasn’t wound so tightly by Commander Jaymes’ attitude.

  “You’re both following me to the prison. Shara, keep your horse next to mine, Neeko in back, and stay quiet.”

  I wondered why we would go to the prison, but asking would just mean more money taken from my salary.

  My salary—the thought put a grin on my face. I hadn’t even considered being paid for my service. Panic took over when the commander cried out a quick “heeya!” and his horse burst into a gallop, Shara’s matching stride while mine immediately fell behind.

  I cursed and tried to make Vkar speed up. He whinnied in complaint and reared high. I fell off with an “oof,” then scrambled back on, muttering curses the entire time.

  “Come on, Vkar.”

  Soon he reached a gallop and neared Shara and the commander. Jaymes looked over his shoulder and halted his mount.

  “You can’t even ride a horse, recruit?” he yelled. “By next week, you’ll have fallen off for the last time. Understand, Neeko Aquin?”

  No, I didn’t understand. Did that mean he’d teach me to be a better rider, or did I have to find someone else to do that?

  “Yes, sir.”

  Luckily, Commander Jaymes didn’t feel the need to speed through the crowded city so it became easy to keep up as he interrogated Shara.

  “What makes you smart?”

  “I remember everything I read, sir.”

  “And what do you read?”

  “Everything.”

  Jaymes examined her eyes. “Everything?”

  She nervously moved her raven hair out of her face. “Everything.”

  “Who was the king of the North one hundred years ago?”

  Shara began thinking aloud. “That would be year 1427. The drought and first sacrifice was in 1425, so King Capillo would still be on the throne two years later.”

  “And what did he do?”

  “He made the law that every year there would be a sacrifice to the god of life. At the same time, King Edgrall of the South made the law that every year there would be a sacrifice to the god of death. The day after both laws were put in place, King Capillo was killed. His son was too young to lead, so the king’s younger brother took the throne as a steward until the new monarch came of age. It was later revealed that the steward had killed his own brother. The people of Glaine came together under the queen of the late king and attacked the castle.” She paused. “Shall I go on?”

  “No. Tell me instead how people’s opinions of sacrificing have changed in the hundred years since then.”

  She spoke without pause. “The North has remained mostly indifferent about sacrificing, while the South has been adamant that it continue. Although, I’d imagine many in the North—those who’ve seen the fire games of the Southern army firsthand—have lost their indifference and now want the sacrifices to recommence.”

  “Your home was destroyed. Does this mean you’re one of these Northerners you just described?” For some reason, he was still yelling.

  “No, sir!” Shara’s voice rose. “I believe King Quince is right to end the sacrifices. There is proof that they do no good.”

  He seemed to calm as he grunted. “So you know your
history. Now tell me about the land. Where would be the best place in the North for us to engage our enemies?”

  Shara hummed and I worried she would break into song. Unfortunately, I was right.

  “It depends on the game they play. Will they burn more houses with each fray? Or will they accumulate day after day, then attack, in an attempt to force us back? Do they want the capital to fall, or do they just want to brawl? If the latter, then they want to scare us. We’d best not scatter, but we can’t let them snare us. We protect each town, village, and city. We wait, be ready, though it won’t be pretty. If they attack, then we battle. If they fall back, we won’t rattle. We follow them south, where—”

  “My gods, will you shut up!”

  Although I rode mostly behind Shara, I could still see her face turn bright red.

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “How many hours did you waste rehearsing this idiotic song just to impress me?”

  “None, sir. Sometimes I sing. The rhymes…they help me think. They give my thoughts direction.”

  “You’d better learn to think without singing or rhyming around me, recruit.”

  “I will, sir. Right away.”

  “You’d be riding back to the castle right now if you hadn’t happened to describe the current strategy of our army. Only because of that am I giving you another chance. No more singing or rhyming.”

  “I understand. Thank you, sir.”

  The commander went on to ask her all sorts of things, most of which I knew nothing about. He tested her knowledge on treating injuries from missing limbs to trauma of the mind. She seemed to know all the correct answers. He asked her about music and whether she had any talent with an instrument. She could sing the lyrics of many songs, but she admitted she had no heart for music and even less talent to create her own.

  We rode through the city, the commander’s steel breastplate continually turning heads. He stopped at the intersection of two crowded streets. There were maybe a hundred people within sight, all close enough to hear anything we shouted.

  “Call everyone nearby,” he told Shara.