by Kris A Hiatt
“We aren’t,” Kelvrin replied. “We see it more as returning what was stolen from us.”
“Stealing is stealing,” Drevic stated. “Regardless of whether or not the items were stolen from us first. That makes us no better than them.”
“Is that the Archmagister talking or the Archbishop?” Kelvrin asked.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“When’s the last time you taught a class? When’s the last time you addressed the students? I’m saying that you seem more focused on being the Archbishop than you are Archmagister.”
Drevic eyed Kelvrin but didn’t respond.
“It’s merely an observation, not an accusation.”
It was true, Kelvrin hadn’t asked his questions with an accusatory tone, but rather with true, heartfelt concern. That concern is what gave Drevic pause. “What you say is true,” Drevic admitted. “But you must know it stems not from any dislike I have for the order. This is a very trying time for the people of Haven. They need to be able to rely on the Church to help alleviate some of the burdens associated with what’s transpiring in the world.”
“This is a very trying time for our order too,” Kelvrin said. “Now, more than ever, we need our leader. As much as the Church needs theirs, we need ours. I’m not saying you aren’t being one. In fact, I have no idea how you can juggle the two roles as well as you have. I couldn’t do either one. I’m just saying that, from some of our student’s point of view, you’re there more than here.”
“I am,” Drevic conceded. “But that’s because I go where I’m needed most. The Church doesn’t have strong people like you and Edas to rely upon. I’m there more because I have you here.”
“While I appreciate your kind words, and understand them, not everyone does. Perhaps they should hear something from you to help alleviate their fears of you leaving us.”
“They really think that?” Drevic asked. He hadn’t thought of that. Why would they think such a thing?
“It’s been quietly mentioned. I don’t think it has much hold as of yet, but I think it could if it’s left alone.”
“I’ll address it. Thank you Kelvrin,” Drevic told him. He truly appreciated the man’s honesty. He could have simply left it alone and allowed the rumor to fester. He chose to act instead, and Drevic was glad for it.
“You’re welcome, Archmagister,” Kelvrin said with a wink. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get some rest. I’ve been at it since first light.”
Drevic knew the wink was for the emphasis of him being called the Archmagister; a demonstration of Kelvrin’s support. “Of course. You’ve got to be tired. That’s a lot of classes. I’ll take one from you. It’s the least I can do.”
“No, no,” Kelvrin said, pulling himself from his seat with some effort. “I’ll just keep stacking them in. You just make a habit of stopping by every now and again.”
“The offer is there.”
“I can handle it for a couple more days.”
“A couple? How long has Edas been gone?” By ship it took four days just to get to Kilindric. Even if Edas had left yesterday, the man wouldn’t be back until the next Celebrae.
“He left right after your first sermon,” Kelvrin explained.
“You’ve been teaching five classes a day for seven days?” Drevic couldn’t believe he didn’t know about this sooner. It drove home Kelvrin’s point, however, and he didn’t like the way it made him feel. He was away from the College too much. The College, the Church, he wasn’t sure why he was differentiating them since they were all housed together in the same building.
“As I said, I can handle a couple more days.”
“I’ll be around more,” Drevic promised. He fully intended on keeping that promise too. He’d still need to spend a lot of time with the folks from the Church, but he’d also need to spend time with his current students. He thought he had just the idea for that.
“I have no doubt. Good night.”
“Sleep well, my friend,” he told him. Although Kelvrin said that he had no doubt, Drevic saw the relief in the man’s face at his proclamation. Yet another keen reminder of how difficult of a task it was to juggle multiple titles.
Chapter 21
As Treace watched Wendle and Carth being dragged out of the room, arrows sticking out of their bodies in multiple locations, he was reminded of something from his youth. A couple of local hunters had killed a bear and drug it into town for the people to see. They weren’t bragging about their kill, but simply showing the small community that it was once again safe to send their children outside to play. The bear had been spotted around town several times and while it hadn’t attacked anyone, the fear of it was nearly a tangible thing. The constable had paid the hunters to kill the bear for the safety of the town. There were numerous arrows sticking out of the bear’s body, much like the bodies of the men being dragged away from him now. Treace remembered feeling bad for the bear. It was killed simply for what it might do in the future. At the time, Treace thought it was silly. Wendle and Carth were killed for a completely different reason, yet in his mind, much like with the bear, it wasn’t one worth killing for.
“You’re next, pretty boy,” Jass said to Moffred.
“Shut up you heartless bitch,” Kiril spat.
“Watch your tongue—” Jass managed to say before Kiril cut her off.
“Or you’ll cut it out? Or maybe you’ll kill me? I think we both know my death is a certainty. It doesn’t really matter who does it, so feel free.”
“Well not now that you’ve taken the fun out of it,” Jass pouted.
Treace ignored them and looked to his friend. He was expecting Moff to yell and scream and possibly even try to fight his captors, but instead he just stood there in silence as he watched the bodies of his father and brother being dragged away. Treace couldn’t imagine what was going through his friend’s mind just then. “I’m so sorry, my friend.”
“Touching,” Drokier mocked.
“With that troublesome event over,” Shamir said. “Back to our remaining business.”
“Just kill me,” Moffred told him.
There wasn’t any anger in Moff’s voice when he said it, in fact, Treace didn’t detect any emotion at all.
“Oh, I’m not going to kill you,” Shamir replied pleasantly. “At least not yet. Your friend there will determine whether or not you live or die.”
There wasn’t any doubt in Treace’s mind that Shamir was referring to him. But why the man said Treace would determine Moff’s fate, he had no idea. “What do you mean?”
“I hear you like to fight in front of a crowd,” Shamir told him.
“I don’t understand,” Treace replied.
“In due time,” Shamir said. “But I get ahead of myself. First, you agree that we are enemies?”
“After what you just did, yeah, I’d say so.”
“Good!” Shamir said happily. “Then you’d also agree that you were fairly caught?”
“I wouldn’t say being ambushed in the middle of the night as being fairly caught.”
“Hey,” Jass cut in. “I didn’t lure you into a trap. I didn’t lie to you. I came upon you and captured you. Simple as that.”
“Had I known we were being hunted it would have had a different outcome,” Treace told her.
“Oh, you had to of known,” Shamir scolded. “Don’t blame us for you not being prepared. You spied on me, you conspired against me. You should have thought of that. If you didn’t, that’s on you.”
“It must be nice to make up a story that fits your needs,” Treace told him.
“There’s nothing false about it,” Shamir refuted. “Did you, or did you not, come into my territory and extract a member of my society in an attempt to use information known by that person to better your position against me?”
“We spoke to Kint to get information about how to further our order,” Treace argued. “The College has nothing to do with you.”
“I beg to differ,” Sham
ir countered. “It has everything to do with me.”
“How so?” Treace asked. If there was a connection, he wasn’t seeing it.
“Well you should know, you were there. When Archmagister Brental accepted the position, he offered an alliance with me. As such, any member of the College is now under my rule and my jurisdiction. The fact that you don’t seem to either accept that or acknowledge that is troubling to me.”
“You don’t rule me,” Treace informed him. “I’m under Liernin’s employ.” Treace knew his mistake as soon as he said it. Shamir was waiting for him to admit that he worked for Liernin. He all but sealed their fate. He just admitted to being a spy.
“Exactly,” Shamir said with a smile.
“My King, with that admission of guilt,” Drokier offered. “May I suggest we move on to the punishment?”
“As King, I find you, Treace, guilty of being a spy. Moffred and Kiril, I find both of you guilty of treason. For your crimes, all of you should be executed.”
“Self-proclaimed King,” Treace pointed out. If he was going to die, he was going to make sure he annoyed Shamir and his men until the very end. He was as good as dead now anyway, he figured there wasn’t any use to be his typically polite self anymore.
“Do you really feel that argument is helping you?” Shamir asked.
“Do you really feel I give a shit about what you say?” Treace shot back.
“My King, you should just kill him now,” Brental suggested. “The more a beast is backed into a corner, the more dangerous he becomes.”
“Nonsense,” Raythien replied. “My men have him fully under control. He is of no danger. They will keep him secure while he’s in custody, I assure you.”
“I appreciate your concern advisor,” Shamir said. “But I’ve already agreed to Drokier’s request.”
Treace found a glimmer of hope then. If his assumption was correct, he would be fighting Drokier to save his life. Shamir had hinted that Treace would determine their fate. He assumed if he beat Drokier they’d go free. He’d beaten the man once, and soundly so, he’d do it again. “I’m fighting Drokier?”
“I can’t wait to wipe that smile off of your face,” Drokier spat.
Treace didn’t realize he was smiling. Not that it mattered to him. Drokier could talk all he wanted. It wouldn’t change the outcome of the fight. “It worked so well for you the last time.”
“It’s a little different now,” Drokier replied, smiling.
“In lieu of the normal execution,” Shamir told Treace. “You’ll fight Drokier, to the death, three days from now. Everyone will be excited to see that fight. Our newest captain killing Liernin’s best man in single combat. That will truly raise their spirits.”
“You assume much,” Treace told him.
“Not as much as you,” Shamir replied.
“What’s the catch?” Kiril asked.
“At least your girlfriend is catching on,” Drokier said.
“The catch is, depending on the outcome of that fight, you could save one of your lives,” Shamir told her.
“So if he wins, he’ll be free and gets to choose one of us to take with him?”
“Oh, dear. No, it’s not if he wins, but when he loses,” Shamir clarified.
“Wait, what?” Treace asked. That didn’t make any sense. Why would he lose?
“Oh look,” Drokier said. “You aren’t smiling now are you asshole?”
“What happens if I win?” Treace asked, ignoring the man.
“You’ll be a free man,” Shamir replied. “But I’m afraid both of them will die. It’ll be a horrible death too.” Shamir shook his head and grimaced as if he were picturing it in his head.
“I’ll give you my five hundred kadens to fight him first,” Jass announced, stepping forward and interrupting the conversation.
“Your request was for a thousand,” Shamir told her.
“I get half, my crew splits the rest,” Jass explained. “You can keep my portion if I can fight him first. I want to be the one to kill The Wolf.”
Treace thought it was nice to at least know the answer to the question of why Jass was so interested with him. The fact that she wanted him dead didn’t really bother him. He knew she was only trying to make a name for herself by besting him. He didn’t know what she was capable of, but he didn’t think it mattered anyway. Not because he thought he would win, which he did, but because he knew Shamir wouldn’t risk it. He wanted Drokier to win. He wanted to be able to gloat. If Jass somehow won, Shamir’s plan to parade his man as the victor would fall apart. He had to know Treace wouldn’t choose to save himself and let both of his friends die.
“I’m not agreeable to that,” Drokier said.
“So you do think I can beat him,” Jass proclaimed. “I knew it!”
“No,” Drokier argued. “I don’t want you to be killed.”
“It doesn’t matter who else is agreeable to it or not,” Shamir spouted. “I don’t agree and that settles it!”
“Who said I’d fight either of them?” Treace asked, deciding to press the issue. He didn’t have anything to lose at this point.
“I don’t think you’ll have a choice,” Kiril told him.
“Again she catches on,” Drokier said. “Your girlfriend is much smarter than you.”
Kiril didn’t correct Drokier on the two of them not being together, so Treace didn’t see a reason to either. Not that he thought they were an actual couple, just that what everyone else presumed of their relationship didn’t matter.
“Oh, there’s a choice,” Shamir informed him. “You can either all die a horrific public death, after being tortured first, or you can choose to fight. The choice is yours.”
“There’s not much of a reason to fight,” Treace told him.
“You don’t value even one of their lives?” Shamir asked.
“Of course I do. But do I trust that you’ll honor what you’ve said and let one of them walk should I lose?”
“Do you have a choice?” Shamir asked.
Treace supposed that he didn’t. If he didn’t fight, they’d all die. If he fought and won, he’d earn his freedom, but at the cost of both Moffred’s and Kiril’s lives. If he lost, obviously he’d be dead, but he could choose to save one of them. He knew he had to fight. He had to save one of them. The question was, which one did he save?
“It won’t work,” Jass chimed in.
“Of course it will,” Shamir told her.
“You won’t get the outcome you desire,” Jass explained. “You’re not giving him a reason to fight to the best of his abilities. He’ll be a shadow of what he really is. The people will see through it.”
Treace found it odd that Jass could be so intelligent and coherent at times, then be so crazy a moment later. This was one of the former and she did have a point. However, he had no intention of fighting to the best of his abilities. Should Drokier not parry in time, feint at the wrong time, or simply not dodge soon enough, Treace would kill him easily. He wouldn’t risk it. He’d fight half-heartedly to ensure he didn’t accidently kill his opponent. He thought of his mock battle with Liern, but knew that wouldn’t work either. Jass was right. Anyone with any fighting skill would see through the façade.
Shamir looked to Disdane. “You’re the most talented fighter I know and you’ve fought him. Given a fair fight, who would win?”
“Him,” Disdane responded, pushing his chin in Treace’s direction.
“You bastard, thanks for the support,” Drokier muttered, obviously slighted.
“The truth is the truth,” Disdane told him. “Feel lucky you’re fighting him instead of me.”
That visibly set Drokier back on his heels. Treace had fought both men and while he had easily defeated Drokier, he was quite soundly defeated by Disdane. He had no doubt that Disdane would handily trounce Drokier if they fought one another.
“Now, boys, let’s not fight in front of our guests,” Brental chided.
Both men gave him a look that cl
early indicated they didn’t appreciate his humor.
“Well,” Shamir began after some thought. “He may be the more talented fighter, but if he wants to save one of his friends, he better become a talented actor. If the fight, and his loss, doesn’t look real, both of them are dead.”
“When he dies,” Drokier proclaimed. “It’ll be because I’m the better fighter.”
“If that’s what you want to tell yourself,” Moffred said, finally speaking. “You can lie all you want.”
“I will fight him this very second!” Drokier roared, drawing his sword.
“You will do no such thing!” Shamir returned loudly.
Disdane pulled his massive sword from his back and approached Drokier cautiously. Treace didn’t miss the scars on the man’s arms nor the fabric wrapped around his wrist.
“Gentlemen!” Jass screamed. “Get your heads about you! You’re letting them get inside your head.”
Treace couldn’t help but to yet again be amazed at her moments of lucidity. It was almost as if her craziness was all an act. He decided then that it most likely was just that. An act. She wanted everyone to believe she was off. Maybe it was so they’d underestimate her or simply so they’d leave her alone. Whatever her reasons, it wasn’t clear. But what was clear was that she wanted to be known for killing The Wolf. Outwardly, she seemed to be as crazy as anything in this world, yet she was sane enough to point out how Moffred was instigating the fight. There was much more to the crazy woman than she let on.
Drokier sputtered but sheathed his sword and ran the fingers of both his hands through his hair.
“I’ve a mind to let all you idiots fight it out to the death,” Shamir scolded. “Whoever is the last man standing would walk away with their life.”
“Who said it’d be a man?” Kiril shot back, interrupting Shamir with a huge smile on her face.
Whatever it was that made Jass seem crazy seemed to be affecting everyone. Treace didn’t expect Kiril to make light of the situation.
Jass smiled and nodded at Kiril.
“Lock them up!” Shamir commanded. “I’m tired of this insolence. The next one of you idiots that says something stupid will find my tolerance at an end.”
