Blood Mercenaries Origins

by Ben Wolf

  “I am the Queen of Inoth. Therefore, I say what is right,” she countered.

  Aveyna tugged him harder, and he took another step toward the bed.

  “I—I—” he stammered.

  “If you’re afraid of what this will cost you, don’t be. I’m not like other women.”

  There is no denying that, at least. Kent took another step forward.

  “Almost there.” She showed him that smile—that enrapturing smile that had captivated him all throughout dinner.

  He stopped and gently rolled his wrists, breaking her grip. “Forgive me, Queen Aveyna, but I must ask you to leave.”

  She stood there, her smile halfway gone. “You really won’t oblige me?”

  Kent exhaled a quiet breath through his nose. “Please understand—it is not because I am disinterested. I find you very attractive, but I am not given to rash decisions.”

  Aveyna remained quiet.

  “I believe that to engage in such an act with you now would risk the possibility of something far greater between us in the future.”

  “What makes you think I want something greater?”

  Kent hesitated. “Do you not?”

  Now Aveyna hesitated.

  “There is no need to answer now,” Kent said. “I understand what you are enduring with regard to the recent death of your husband.”

  Her composure faltered, and her face twisted with anger and hurt. “You know nothing about it.”

  “Actually, I do,” Kent said calmly. “My own wife, Miranda, died many years ago, in childbirth. Our son, who would have been my heir, perished as well. Though, if given the choice, I would have preferred her to live a full life with me even if it meant never having an heir.”

  Aveyna’s face softened some, and she sat on the bed, her arms wrapped around herself. “I—I’m sorry.”

  Kent nodded, and he walked over to her nightgown, still a pool of silk on the floor. He picked it up, brought it back to her, and handed it to her.

  “Thank you.” Tears streamed down her face. “Gods, I feel like such a fool.”

  Kent sat next to her on the bed. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and wrap his arms around her, but he refrained. He’d just stymied her advances, and though his carnal nature wanted more, he dared not do anything to reignite her ambition again.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asked.

  “No. You have shown me respect. That is precisely what I needed, even if it wasn’t what I wanted.” She slipped her nightgown onto her head and pulled it down her body. Then she looked up at Kent. “Thank you.”

  He chanced taking her hand in his. “Perhaps we can do this some other time.”

  Her perfect smile, albeit a teary-eyed version, returned. “I hope so.”

  “Very good. Then I will see you in the morning. Perhaps for breakfast?” Kent offered.

  “Yes. I would like that very much.”

  Kent stood, helped Aveyna to her feet, and walked her to the door. He picked up the keys and handed them to her, then he picked up the candlestick and set it on the vanity again.

  She opened the door, he bowed to her, and then she left.

  With the door shut and locked, Kent returned to his bed and lay down in it.

  The aroma of her flowery perfume still lingered on the sheets. He would have difficulty sleeping that night.

  Throughout the next several weeks, Aveyna and Kent got better acquainted, and he gained more and more of her trust. He found it beneficial in a variety of ways, not the least of which was a gradual reduction in his paranoia that everyone in the realm wanted him dead.

  Within two months, Kent had earned free rein throughout the palace, meaning neither Grak nor any of his royal guards had to escort Kent whenever he wanted to leave his room. He welcomed the freedom, and he used it to send word to Ronin of his wellbeing.

  Even so, he still was not permitted to wear his sword around the palace. However, the soldiers at the palace gates kept it locked up for him to use whenever he wished to practice—under watchful eyes, of course.

  As such, Kent routinely trained with some of the soldiers in the palace courtyard and even took up teaching them fighting techniques. He’d always found Inothian soldiers to be poor hand-to-hand and armed fighters, and they continued to prove him right, time after time.

  But the more time he spent with them, the more they grew under his tutelage. In exchange, some of the ranking officers began to show him additional magic techniques useful for fighting. Kent drank it all in and committed the techniques to memory.

  A week later, Queen Aveyna invited Kent to a meeting of her most trusted advisors. Kent agreed to attend.

  When Kent entered the throne room that evening, two elite soldiers walked out and shut the doors behind them, sealing him and everyone else in attendance inside.

  “Welcome, Lord Etheridge,” Queen Aveyna’s voice carried from the throne as Kent approached. “Come forward.”

  A round of welcomes, nods, and well-wishes from the other attendees greeted him, and most of them seemed genuine.

  Ahead, Prince Kymil sat next to his mother, and General Deoward and several other high-ranking military officials stood near the edge of the platform.

  As usual, Grak stood between Queen Aveyna and Prince Kymil.

  As Kent approached, the group of military officials parted, leaving only General Deoward standing between Kent and the platform. He gave Kent a curt nod, and then he too stepped aside.

  Kent knelt on the centermost red tile and bowed toward the Queen. He stole a glance to his right, at the red tile he’d occupied when he’d nearly been executed. Someone had removed the old tile and replaced it with a new one that didn’t quite match the other four in color.

  Kent smirked.

  “Rise and come forward,” Queen Aveyna beckoned him.

  Kent rose, and he began to ascend the platform steps toward her.

  She stood up and started toward him. When she stopped, he stopped.

  Grak glared at him, but Kent ignored it. He did, however, note Grak’s death grip on the hilt of his sword.

  “Lord Kent Etheridge, formerly of the nation of Muroth, I have summoned you this evening to ask you a very simple question,” Queen Aveyna began. “I would like to offer you the opportunity to become a full citizen of Inoth.”

  Kent granted himself a grin. My, how far I have come.

  Queen Aveyna smiled and studied his face. “Do you accept?”

  Kent nodded. He had nothing to lose by accepting, and he stood to gain much more. “I would be honored, Your Highness.”

  Queen Aveyna performed the same short ceremony on Kent as she had on Ronin the day of his trial, and she anointed Kent as an official Inothian. “Rise, Lord Kent Etheridge, loyal citizen of Inoth.”

  Kent rose. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  “I have another request of you,” she said.

  “Name it, Your Highness.”

  “I would like you to serve as one of my chief military advisors, specifically with regard to our ongoing conflict with Muroth.” Queen Aveyna’s chin rose slightly. “But before I can allow you to serve in such a role, tradition dictates that I subject you to an inquisition by those with whom you will serve.”

  An inquisition? Interesting.

  She motioned toward the throne room doors, and Kent looked back.

  General Deoward stood on the centermost red tile. General Ruba, a man whom Kent had met only once thus far, stood on the off-colored tile where Kent had turned to stone.

  A third man with tan skin and clad in an Inothian naval uniform, colored blue with vibrant orange accents, stood on the tile to the right of General Deoward. Kent had never met him.

  Behind them, the rest of the military officials stood by, watching.

  “You know General Deoward and General Ruba,” Queen Aveyna said. “The third gentleman is Admiral Tagril, the leader of the Inothian Navy.”

  Admiral Tagril gave Kent a slight bow, and Kent returne
d it. Then Kent turned and refocused on Queen Aveyna.

  “Would you like to serve your queen in this way?” she asked.

  Kent grinned. They’d grown far closer over the last several months, and he’d begun to develop strong feelings for her. Her words conjured up memories of her visit to his chambers that first night, and he considered a variety of ways he would’ve liked to serve her.

  “If my queen so wishes,” he said, “I shall gladly oblige her.”

  Kent turned to face his inquisition.

  General Deoward posed the first question. “How do we know we can trust you to provide good information regarding Muroth’s intentions going forward?”

  A loaded question.

  “Would you please clarify further, General?” Kent asked. “Are you asking if I am trustworthy as a native Murothian who once held lands and power along the border, or are you asking if any information I might provide is still relevant despite several months having passed since my arrival in Inoth?

  “Both,” General Deoward replied.

  “I am totally loyal to Her Majesty, Queen Aveyna,” Kent began. “When my family learned of my magical abilities, they expelled me from my home, stripped me of my land and titles, and forced me to flee the country under penalty of death.

  “Now Queen Aveyna has granted me Inothian citizenship. Under these combined circumstances, for me to return to Muroth would mean execution. Inoth is my home now, and it always will be.

  “Regarding my knowledge of Muroth’s defenses and preparations for battling Inoth, I can assure you that change comes very slowly to Muroth. Murothian strategies and tactics largely have not changed since nearly the beginning of this war, primarily because said tactics have proven useful repeatedly throughout the years.

  “Furthermore, our fortresses and walls are fixed structures. They do not move, and I have firsthand knowledge of their intricacies. I coordinated their defenses for decades, particularly those under my family’s purview, and I know precisely what to expect should we encounter one of them.

  “Finally, regarding offensive approaches, I directed and led the Murothian Army’s southern forces on numerous occasions and in numerous battles with Inothian forces. I am capable of accurately predicting their movements and tactics, and thus I can serve as an integral part of formulating an effective Inothian strategy to face said army.”

  General Deoward nodded. “A very thorough answer. Thank you.”

  Kent gave him a slight bow.

  General Ruba spoke next. He asked a pair of questions dealing with specific situations in which Muroth had managed to overcome Inoth in past battles.

  Kent answered that most mages and Inothians lacked any significant degree of physical training. He’d made the exact same observation about Ronin—mages relied too heavily on their magical abilities and forsook their physical potential.

  “In order for Inoth to triumph over Muroth in any given battle, Inoth must learn to better utilize the physical attributes of its soldiers. Muroth’s army has grown large and fierce, but Inoth could easily reclaim an advantage by implementing more physical combat training,” Kent concluded.

  General Ruba nodded, and Admiral Tagril asked Kent about whether he saw any practical use for the Inothian navy in future conflicts with Muroth.

  “Where I come from,” Kent replied, “we have small rivers and streams. Southeastern Muroth has no coastline but instead shares borders with Inoth and Govalia. The Inothian navy would likely prove cumbersome at best if it tried to navigate any of its ships through those rivers and streams.

  “Perhaps a better approach would be to utilize the navy to attack southwestern Muroth in a coordinated effort involving a ground attack on Muroth’s southern border. A powerful enough barrage could sufficiently divide the Murothian army to weaken the forces in the southeast, and it could make an invasion of lower Muroth easier for Inothian land forces.”

  Admiral Tagril bowed low to him.

  “I must confess, Admiral,” Kent added, “that I am no expert in naval combat tactics. I would yield such decisions to your wisdom.”

  For another two hours, the officials asked Kent their questions, and he answered them in earnest. He rather enjoyed the discussion, even when they disagreed on certain points. He hadn’t engaged in such conversation since before he’d fled Muroth, and the Inothian perspectives fascinated him.

  Queen Aveyna scanned the throne room. “I will now hear any dissenting opinions on this matter. Rest assured, your voice will be heard and your cautions considered, so no one should be afraid to speak up for fear of retribution.”

  She extended her hands toward the other military officials, but as Kent expected, no criticism came from anyone. He chalked it up more to good discipline throughout the Inothian army and navy rather than anything he’d personally said or done to convince them.

  Had a soldier spoken out in such a scenario in Muroth, he’d be heard, but he’d also receive a stern lecture later on. Loyalty was prized above all in Muroth, and from what he’d witnessed thus far, it held true in Inoth as well.

  Queen Aveyna waited for a long moment, and then she lowered her arms. “In that case, my esteemed generals and admiral, I call upon you to cast your votes on whether or not Lord Etheridge should be permitted to serve as one of my advisors and as one of your peers.

  “Remember that a vote of ‘yes’ will establish his authority as equal to any of yours, and remember also that the final decision lies with me regardless of your votes. Understood?”

  All three of them nodded.

  Queen Aveyna looked at General Deoward. “General, yay or nay?”

  General Deoward nodded. “Yay.”

  “General Ruba?”

  “Yay.”

  “Admiral Tagril?”

  “Yay.”

  “Then I believe I have made my decision. Lord Etheridge, please turn and face me.”

  Kent complied.

  Queen Aveyna opened her mouth to speak, but the next words spoken weren’t hers.

  “I object,” a voice from Kent’s right said.

  Kent, Queen Aveyna, and everyone else in the throne room turned to look.

  Prince Kymil stood before his chair, his hands balled into fists.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I object,” Kymil repeated. “May I speak, Mother?”

  Queen Aveyna blinked at him, then she glanced between him and Kent. “My dearest, you are welcome to voice your concerns, of course.”

  Prince Kymil walked to the edge of the platform and addressed the crowd of officials rather than either Queen Aveyna or Kent.

  “My fellow Inothians,” he began, “this man is of foreign birth and is a former lord of our greatest enemy, Muroth. His intentions are not pure in the least. I believe he is a spy, sent to us by Muroth to weaken us, even at the cost of his own life, if necessary.

  “He once led the very armies that plague our northern borders, and now we welcome him with open arms as a chief advisor? Are we mad?”

  Prince Kymil pointed at Kent with absolute sincerity and concern in his eyes.

  “This man cannot be trusted, especially not so soon. He is the equivalent of an enemy combatant. Whatever information he might offer us, we could extract from him as our prisoner, not as an advisor.” Prince Kymil shook his head and lowered his hand. “What if he turns on us? What if he leads us into a trap on the battlefield?”

  He paused and looked back at Queen Aveyna.

  “What if he betrays and kills my mother?”

  “Prince Kymil,” Queen Aveyna said, “that is preposterous. If Lord Etheridge had intended to do me harm, he would have done it by now.”

  “You don’t know that, Mother,” Prince Kymil said. “Perhaps he is just biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to assassinate both of us, thereby throwing the kingdom into utter disarray.”

  Queen Aveyna looked at Kent, who didn’t move except to calmly shake his head. Then she refocused on Prince Kymil. “Kymil, you’re overreacting. Kent has prov
en to be nothing but loyal and kind over the last several months.”

  “We barely know him, Mother.”

  “No, you barely know him, Kymil,” Queen Aveyna countered.

  Prince Kymil folded his arms.

  Queen Aveyna’s pale cheeks reddened slightly. “I have taken the time to get to know his character, and I believe he is a man of honor and respect. He is not only worthy of this role; he is also equipped to provide immense value to our efforts against Muroth.”

  “He’s a conniving, surreptitious spy,” Prince Kymil nearly yelled. “He is a native, highborn Murothian at his core, and he always will be.”

  “Enough,” Queen Aveyna snapped. “I have heard your concerns. Do you have evidence to support these claims beyond what you have already said and presented?”

  Prince Kymil opened his mouth to say something, then he hesitated.

  Queen Aveyna put her hands on her hips. “Well?”

  Prince Kymil spoke quickly. “I believe more evidence will be uncovered in time, but it is simply far too early to—”

  “Darling,” she stopped him. She moved closer to him and, quietly enough for only him and those nearest to them to hear, said, “If you don’t have any evidence, don’t continue to speak. It makes you look foolish in front of the people you mean to rule when I am gone.”

  Prince Kymil blushed, but this time it spread to the entirety of his face, and his jaw tightened.

  “Do you understand?” she asked quietly.

  “Yes, Mother,” he replied in a voice barely above a whisper.

  Queen Aveyna turned back toward Kent and the officials. “I have heard the prince’s concerns, and they are valid. I thank him for expressing them. However, I have deemed that it is in the kingdom’s best interests to proceed with the promotion of Lord Etheridge to the role of chief advisor.”

  Prince Kymil sat in his chair again, folded his arms, and scowled at Kent.

  Kent wished he had taken more time to get to know Prince Kymil over the last few months instead of solely developing his relationship with Queen Aveyna. He certainly didn’t regret the inroads he’d made with her, but, admittedly, he hadn’t shown enough interest in interacting with Prince Kymil.