Bastial Frenzy (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 4)

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Bastial Frenzy (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 4) Page 23

by Narro, B. T.


  “He joined the council a few years before you were born, if I remember right,” Kerr said. “We wanted to keep it small, but during our first year Javy Rayvender somehow figured out what we were doing. Still to this day I don’t know how. Rather than telling the King, he joined us. Javy, Jack, Marie, and I were still there at the end of Westin’s rule…and we had some terrible arguments. If Riata and Nick Tarcos hadn’t died, everything would’ve been so different. They were both skilled at finding solutions to impossible problems. Nick was the brother of the Piranha—Jenick Tarcos. Just like the Piranha, he died of heart failure, five years after the council was formed. He was the strongest advocate of peace among all of us, with Javy being on the opposite end, steadfast in his belief that assassination was the only solution.”

  Cleve took deep breaths as he soaked in the information. “But eventually it was decided that Dex needed to shoot Westin?” His stomach lurched.

  “No, actually. We never all agreed to that. When the council was formed, one of the rules was that we wouldn’t take any action unless the decision was unanimous.”

  “But Dex did shoot the King?”

  “He did,” Kerr whispered.

  “I don’t understand.” Don’t tell me my father acted on his own when others voted against the assassination.

  “Your father eventually agreed with Javy that shooting the King with an arrow while he was on his balcony was the best solution to the problem. In fact, eventually all of us agreed with Javy except for one—Jack Rose. The chemist wouldn’t condone murder. We met each month to vote, but Jack never changed his mind. Your father didn’t work for the King, so it was difficult for him to make the meetings, which took place in the castle. He later made it clear that he wanted to leave the decision up to us. So we came to the understanding that if the vote ever became unanimous, a letter containing nothing but a blue ribbon with the symbol of Kyrro would arrive at Dex’s home. This was his sign that Jack had finally changed his mind. So when it arrived, Dex waited for Westin to emerge on the castle balcony, as the late King did every evening after dinner, and he shot him. But what your father didn’t know was that Jack hadn’t changed his mind. Javy had delivered the envelope on his own.”

  There wasn’t the slightest doubt that everything Kerr said was true. Cleve felt empty, like his heart and stomach were missing. Memories of his father felt so unnatural now—learning how to use a bow, every discussion about never using the weapon to harm another person. He didn’t know if he should fight the feeling or let his memories be changed forever.

  “I’m sure he would’ve told you,” Kerr said once more, “when you were older.”

  “So Welson found out about this.”

  “Yes, he spent many years investigating his father’s death. I’m sure he suspects more people than just Dex were behind it, but it would ruin him to find out who it really was.”

  “So there’s no more council in case Welson starts behaving like his father?”

  “Javy was removed from the council the moment we discovered what had happened. But we continued to meet…and still exist, though there hasn’t been a meeting in years. There’s been no need with Welson. He’s nothing like his father, thankfully. I know you’re furious with him, and I would never tell you that you shouldn’t be. But he’s a good king who’s made some mistakes, as we all have. You don’t need to like him, Cleve. But you can’t keep talking about what happened, nor can you act on your feelings. We need him to remain focused on the war…without injury.” Kerr eyed him as if Cleve was planning to shoot the King with his own arrow.

  “What could I do stuck in this prison cell? You have nothing to worry about.”

  “I believe I can get you out of here.” Kerr pushed out his palms before Cleve could get excited. “But you need to do something very difficult first.”

  “Anything.”

  “You must speak to Welson and show him that he doesn’t need to worry about you any longer. We’ve spoken about you. He knows what an asset you are to his army. Can you put your emotions aside?”

  “I can. Especially now that I know he wasn’t lying.” Though I don’t know how I’m going to feel about my father tomorrow. He killed a man, after the countless times he told me never to do just that.

  “I’m relieved. Welson is extremely busy, so I must bring you to him when he has a free moment. You’ll be chained. I hope this doesn’t deter you?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll speak to him first on your behalf. Then guards will come get you when it’s time. I must go. There’s so much to do.”

  Cleve stuck out his hand. Kerr took it with a firm shake.

  “Thank you,” Cleve said.

  “It’s the least I could do. Don’t forget I played a role in you being chosen for Rek’s assassination, expecting you to find a way out of killing him.”

  “I haven’t forgotten, and I hold no grudge.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  Eventually Cleve heard many sets of boots coming down his hallway.

  “I know the way! No need to be shoving.”

  That voice—Cleve had wondered if he’d be seeing Captain Mmzaza again.

  “So you’re the men protecting my king?” Cleve heard spit hit the stone. “My grandmother was stronger than the three of you punies put together.”

  Cleve expected to hear harsh words returned, perhaps even a punch to the Captain’s gut. However, the guards were silent.

  Captain Mmzaza continued to insult them as Cleve heard a clank and then a key setting a lock. But still, the guards said nothing.

  The boots came his way.

  “Cleve Polken?” one guard inquired. He nodded.

  “Cleve?” Captain Mmzaza said. “Cleve, you in here, boy?”

  The guards opened Cleve’s cell. “Turn around.” They fastened his hands together behind his back.

  “Cleve Polken. Don’t think I’d forget your name!” Mmzaza laughed. “What did you do to get back in here?”

  Cleve saw the guards watching, waiting for his answer.

  “I said some things that I shouldn’t have…that were wrong.”

  “Ah, I’ve made that mistake all too many times. Will you be sailing back to Greenedge, me boy?”

  “Perhaps at some point.”

  “Captain Mmzaza’s going to be stuck here for a while. If you need a good captain, you know where to find me.”

  Cleve walked by his cell with the guards. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Mmzaza reached out to grab Cleve’s shoulder. Cleve feared the guards would jab Mmzaza’s arm, but surprisingly they made no motion toward their swords. Where was their eagerness to subdue defiance that they’d shown when Cleve first came to Kyrro City?

  “The next time I see you, boy, it better not be in prison. You hear what Captain Mmzaza’s saying?”

  Cleve was shocked. “I understand.”

  “Good. Now I’ll inebriate myself.” He hummed as he reached into his sleeve and produced a flask.

  The guards shoved Cleve forward. When they were far enough away, Cleve couldn’t hold in his curiosity any longer.

  “Why were you so gentle with him?” he asked. They hadn’t even taken away the old sea captain’s flask.

  “The man’s harmless. We have far worse enemies to fight than Mmzaza.”

  So that was it. These men had gone with Reela and the others to Tenred. They’d seen battle recently and no longer hungered for it.

  As they came out of the dungeon and into the light, it took some time for Cleve’s eyes to adjust. It wasn’t until he was in the grand entrance hall that he could open his eyes fully. The colors of the castle were a pleasant change from the stark gray. Decorative banners and paintings adorned the walls and gave him a feeling of belonging.

  This was Kyrro’s castle, not just the King’s. The castle had existed nearly as long as the territory itself. Much of its history had happened within these walls. The Krepps had even tried to take it, and they’d failed. Cleve smiled as
pride filled his chest. He was ready to fight, no matter what he had to say to Welson.

  The guards didn’t bring Cleve into a throne room. Instead, he was taken to a room he’d been in once before when he’d come with Rek and the rats. It was a large room, about the size of Cleve’s student home. It contained no furniture but one massive table in its center. Surrounding it were leather seats, the backs embroidered with crowns, swords and shields, each one different, sometimes just by color. There was a hearth along one wall at the opposite end. Above it was the familiar portrait of Welson’s father, Westin, with arms folded beneath a stern expression.

  Welson was standing beneath the painting, leaning over the table with his palms flat against it. At the sight of Cleve, he pointed at a bare spot on the wall between banners. The guards moved him there.

  “Stay quiet and don’t stare,” one whispered.

  Cleve dared not interrupt the conversation between those seated around the table. He spotted Kerr among the men, then Rayvender as well. The more he looked at the group, the more others became familiar. He recognized Liaison Wilfre next.

  “And if they don’t sign the treaty?” one inquired.

  “Then we must give them a better reason to,” Welson said, “before the Krepps attack. Rayvender, send them another message when we’re finished here. Tell Tegry Hiller that we’ll attack and destroy more than just their wall if they don’t agree to a meeting. I’ll even meet in neutral territory outside the Fjallejon Pathway if that’s what it takes.”

  “He’s untrustworthy and dangerous,” Kerr said. “I don’t recommend meeting him anywhere else except within our castle.”

  “Knowing Tegry, it would take him ten days just to get here. It’ll be quicker and more likely to work if we let him stay where he’s comfortable.”

  “Then may I suggest you at least offer to meet him in the Academy?” Rayvender said. “Then he’ll counter with Corin Forest, just outside the Fjallejon Pathway.”

  Welson smiled. “Yes. That’s what we’ll do. But make it clear there’ll be no psychics. Otherwise our meeting might go in a different direction.”

  Cleve didn’t know what the King was referring to, but the others at the table nodded silently.

  “One small issue with that,” Kerr said, “is that your recordkeeper is a psychic. So is Tegry’s. We’ll want this meeting recorded, won’t we?”

  “Yes. Wilfre, select someone who would serve as a good recordkeeper for the meeting. That person just needs to be trustworthy and able to write quickly. But wait until the meeting is confirmed before telling whoever you choose.”

  “Yes, sire.”

  “That’s all for now.” Welson straightened his back. Everyone stood and bowed his head before leaving.

  “You can leave Polken with me,” Welson told the guards. “And please shut the door behind you.”

  They obeyed.

  “You’re lucky you’re so useful.” Welson spoke with urgency, gathering a stack of papers. “Otherwise we would’ve had our last conversation long ago.” He walked toward Cleve, his speed implying he wasn’t stopping until he reached the door. “Can we finally be done with all of this?”

  “We can. I just want to fight. You can bring your psychic in here to question me.”

  “That’s not necessary. James Kerr has already spoken on your behalf, and I have far greater things to worry about. If you’ll fight for me, then I’ll gladly have you.” Welson opened the door. “Your weapons will be brought down to you.”

  Cleve didn’t feel right stopping the King from leaving, but there were two things he needed to tell him. “Please, one moment, sir.”

  Welson stopped, halfway out the door. “How important is it?”

  “Extremely. Did you know that the Krepps have two giants?”

  Welson took a breath that looked painful. “Yes, I know about the Dajriks. Is that it?”

  “One other thing.”

  Welson scoffed. “What’s it about?”

  “It’s what I didn’t tell you the last few times we spoke.”

  Welson came back into the room and shut the door. Folding his arms, he whispered, “There’s nothing more to say to each other about our past.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “Then what?” Welson gestured with his hand for Cleve to hurry.

  “The Takarys are coming here after their war is done. They’re going to take over Kyrro.” Cleve opened his mouth to elaborate, but Welson’s expression froze him. The King looked ready to shout.

  “Danvell Takary told you this?”

  “Yes. In exchange for help returning to Kyrro, I had to agree to assist in the transition of power to the Takarys when they came here, though I don’t believe he’ll be coming himself.”

  “Do they know what’s happening here?”

  “Yes.”

  “When will they be coming?” Welson asked nervously.

  “It could be a few months or years. It certainly won’t be immediately. Their war is of a far wider scale than ours. I can’t imagine it’ll be resolved quickly.”

  Welson turned his lips inward and pressed his mouth together. “Their army…how many do they have?”

  “I don’t know, but Danvell said they would send between twenty and thirty thousand to take Kyrro. They have horses and Bastial steel swords like mine. I don’t suggest fighting.”

  “But you’re required to say this, aren’t you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You agreed to help Danvell with the transition of power,” Welson said. “So you would rather I didn’t fight him.”

  “Even if that wasn’t the case, I don’t believe you can win.”

  “And the Krepps? Their army is more than thirty thousand. Would you suggest not fighting them either? The Takarys have been terrible rulers, and I would gladly fight to keep them out of power here. Let them keep Goldram, but this land doesn’t belong to them any longer.” At first Welson seemed exasperated. But then his face loosened with a breath. “Did they say they want Tenred as well? What hint did you get as to what they would do if Tegry and I are still at war when they come?”

  “They want all of Ovira. I assume they would go to war against both of you.”

  Welson made a fist. “Their greed is absurd!” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with them as I’m dealing with Tegry and the Krepps. Thank you for telling me.”

  Welson opened the door once again.

  “What will you do?” Cleve risked asking.

  “I don’t know yet. There are more immediate matters on my mind.” He was almost through the doorway when he stopped and looked over his shoulder. “This agreement between you and Danvell Takary—will you be fighting with them or against them when they come?”

  “I signed a contract that says I’ll assist the Takarys however I’m needed in the transition of power, but only if Danvell’s two daughters agree to what’s asked of me. I trust them more than I trust him. But I’d still rather avoid the situation entirely. When this war is over, I plan to travel back there if you’ll help me with a ship. I believe I can stop them from attacking Ovira if I have more time there.”

  “Perhaps. Let me discuss this with my council at a later time. Wait here for my guards to bring your weapons.”

  “And my horse?” Cleve inquired, trying to sound as polite as possible.

  “She’s staying here.”

  Cleve was silent, too nervous to voice his disagreement.

  “There’s no place for her in the Academy. My people will take good care of her,” Welson said. “And you can come visit her whenever Terren gives you permission to leave.”

  This was a pleasant surprise. “I’m not banished from the city?”

  “Kerr has convinced me I no longer need to worry about you. As long as this is the case, then yes.”

  “It is.” Cleve wouldn’t apologize for his previous behavior, as Welson deserved far worse than what Cleve had given him, but he was done revisiting that topic. They were on the
same side.

  But there was something Cleve felt he should say, something he and the King both shared.

  “I’m sorry about your father.”

  “And I’m sorry about yours.”

  Chapter 24:

  CLEVE

  With his weapons back in his possession, Cleve found himself feeling in debt to Welson. He wondered if it meant he’d forgiven him. The thought left a taste of disgust. He could never forgive Welson. But did that mean he couldn’t respect the man and proudly serve in his army?

  Cleve shook his head. He was out of his prison cell. He didn’t want to think about Welson anymore, nor did he want to think about his father. Cleve buried his feelings deep down, knowing it was wrong but unable to help it.

  Old habits aren’t easy to give up, he told himself to relieve some of the guilt.

  The guard shocked Cleve with a polite question. “Have all your belongings?”

  “I do.”

  “Then let me escort you to the door.” It wasn’t more than twenty steps away. Cleve walked with the man, confused. “We’ve heard about what you and Rek did,” the guard said. “Our scouts found traces of the dark foam in the location given to us. There was a mound of dirt nearby. They dug and found the Slugari carcass buried there.” He offered his hand, and they shook. “When we first heard Welson was sending just two to kill one of the Krepps’ Slugari leaders, some of us were skeptical it was possible. But our king is a smarter man than I am. He chose wisely with you and Rek.”

  Cleve bowed his head, unsure what to say. The guard bowed back and led Cleve through the doorway.

  After the guard went back inside and the massive ironbark door began to close, Cleve heard a familiar voice.

  “Hold!” The guards stopped shutting the door, and Rek came through with an indifferent expression, as if Cleve were a stranger.

  Cleve grabbed him by the shoulders, fearful he might run off before Cleve could fully apologize. “I’m so sorry for what I said in the dungeon. I made a terrible mistake.”

  “I know you did.” Rek reached up to pat Cleve on the shoulder, and Cleve let go of him. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

  “You’re not upset with me?”

 

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