by Jane Shoup
How many representatives will you bring?” Corin asked.
Alexander thought about it. “A dozen.”
“Agreed.”
“When?” Alexander asked.
“Tomorrow. Noon.”
Alexander nodded. “Agreed.”
“Is she well?” Corin asked after a brief pause.
“She is thin. Exhausted. Her journey was exceedingly difficult.”
“How did she escape the abductors?”
“You can ask her that yourself.”
Corin bristled. He was unaccustomed to cavalier responses. “Did she say who was responsible?”
“She did. It was an advisor of yours. Zephyr.”
Corin drew back. “Is this certain?”
“I only know that she is certain.”
Corin seemed shaken. “You may go,” he said in a thick voice.
The guard nearer the door opened it.
“You give your word that you will not attack on the morrow, but will instead meet to discuss a truce?”
“You have my word. We will meet at noon and I will expect to see my wife.”
“Ammey McKeaf will be there.” The answer obviously annoyed the king and Alexander was glad of it. He turned to leave.
“Wait. You said she knows why I hate the ugaria bush.”
Alexander turned back. “Yes.”
“Why?”
Alexander hesitated. “She would not say. She said she promised you she would not.”
Corin nodded. “So she did.” He looked at the guard. “See him safely to the edge of camp.”
“Yes, sire.”
Marko waited until he was alone before he released a shaky breath. She was alive. His wife. His Jade. “Ammey,” he murmured. He began to pace, filled with a vigor he had not felt in months. It was as if he’d been brought back to life. But, Zino! Zino had to be dealt with once and for all. Marko recalled Mehr’s warning that Zino would be his downfall. Mehr, who was as innocent as Zino was guilty. Marko felt crushing regret and shame. He turned the guard who remained trying to remember the names of the men Mehr had put in charge of the army for a time. Tullmoore. That was one of them. “Do you know General Tullmoore?”
“By reputation only, your majesty.”
“Find out if he’s here. If he is, send him to me and tell him to bring his most trusted men.”
~~~
Everyone stopped speaking when Alexander walked back into the McKeaf’s tent. “He agreed to the truce,” Alexander announced.
Everyone breathed sighs of relief.
“That is excellent news,” Isolde exclaimed. “Are we to meet?”
Alexander nodded. “Tomorrow at noon. There is a castle on the Rhannalinx called Dahl’s Keep.”
“Yes,” Isolde said. “I know it.”
“It will be cleared and each side will secure the hall with twenty guards. As to the negotiation, there is to be a dozen representatives per side. He also stipulated he would see his wife.”
“Do not call her that,” Anthony snapped.
“It is how he thinks of her,” Alexander retorted. “It’s how he referred to her. Do you think it gives me pleasure to call her that?”
“This is tremendous,” Isolde said enthusiastically. “Let’s begin drawing up a settlement.”
Lucas shook his head. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll see it when it’s completed.”
“Of course,” Isolde replied. “We’ll work in my quarters.”
As men left, Alexander stayed put and David waited, as well. When only the three men remained, Alexander spoke again, addressing it to Lucas. “He loves her. I didn’t want to believe it, but I saw it. Felt it. He loves her. I thought you should know.”
Lucas pursed his lips. “I don’t know that I care,” he finally replied. “I think I want him dead now, as much as ever.”
~~~
“Zephyr is gone, sire,” Andre Smithe reported. “It looks as though he cleared out without taking a single possession.”
Marko seethed. Someone had obviously informed him of Alexander Kievnall’s revelation. Two more men entered the tent to report. “Voreskae is nowhere to be found, sire.”
“Zephyr, as well,” Smithe told them.
“Who are our best trackers?” Corin asked.
“You want Zephyr and Voreskae found and returned,” Tullmoore said for clarification.
“Yes,” Corin replied firmly. “They will be interrogated and then executed.”
Tullmoore nodded. “It will be done.”
“One last thing,” Corin said. “Bring me Eskarne, the whore, if she can be found.”
Tullmoore gestured to his men and they retreated to see the orders carried out.
“My lord,” Eskarne said when she was led in minutes later. “You asked for me?”
Marko turned to her. “You are still here. I thought you might have left with Zino and Voreskae.”
She looked baffled. “My place is with you.”
“Take off your clothes,” Marko ordered coldly.
“Happily,” she said weakly. She went about the task with trembling hands. “I live to pleasure you.”
“This will bring me some pleasure,” he said dryly.
When she was naked, she came toward him.
“You went to speak with Zino when you left here.”
She blinked. “No,” she stammered.
“Do not lie to me!”
“I wanted to protect you,” she pleaded.
“Protect me?”
“Yes.”
“You went to Zino so that he could protect me?”
She nodded frantically.
“And you told him what you’d heard in here?”
“So that he would come to your aid!”
“And yet he did not come. He ran.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Do you not?” He scoffed. “Guards,” he yelled.
Eskarne jumped.
Two guards rushed in. “Sire?”
“Take her away. I don’t care where. I do not ever want to see her again. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sire.”
She opened her mouth and her breath was released in a shaky torrent. “You cannot mean that!”
The guards came forward. One took hold of her arm and pulled her backwards. Her dark eyes were wide, her mouth agape. She turned and tried to veer toward her clothes. “Allow me to dress,” she cried.
One of the guards looked to Corin.
Marko shook his head. “But take them,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I wish no reminder left behind.” As she was taken away, Marko went to the fire. He felt cold despite the fur cape draped around his shoulders. What kind of leader was he when his every decision had been based on lies? How could anyone trust his judgment? And yet he was in control of an army that possessed the strength to crush the force that opposed them. Could he back down now? If he did, would be still command his army’s respect and allegiance? Or did he command it?
It was ironic that Zino had been right about Jade’s name. How would she react to him now, given all that had happened? He pulled the fur tighter at the thought that so chilled him.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Which of them will you choose?” Julia wheedled.
Ammey opened her eyes. She’d nearly gone to sleep, but Julia refused to stop talking. “I’m tired,” she complained. It was exceptionally late, or perhaps early in the morning, given the low, gray light in the room. “Go to sleep.”
“But you have to decide.”
“Decide what?”
“What you’ll do, of course. You’re such a ninny.”
Ammey turned on her side and studied her friend’s profile. Julia was on her back, staring up the ceiling, the covers pulled up to neck.
Julia looked over at her and then shifted to face her. “Vincent,” she said sadly.
“Vincent,” Ammey repeated softly.
“Or Marko?” Julia asked. “We never considered loving more than one man, did
w? We didn’t know it was possible.”
“No.”
“Nothing is simple,” Julia said wistfully.
The scent of wild loira wafted in the warm, summer breeze. Ammey sighed, realizing how much she’d missed being here. Then she frowned in confusion as to why they’d been separated. “Where is Saren?”
“Oh, he’s here. Don’t worry about him. You have quite enough to think about.”
“What do you think I should do?”
“It depends. Do you love Marko or do you merely want to rescue him?”
The words took Ammey by surprise. “Rescue him? He’s a king.”
“He’s also a man who loves you. And he was once was a boy who lost everyone he loved and who cared for him. And he was left in the care of an evil man who used and manipulated him.”
“That’s true.”
“And Vincent. Do you love him?”
“Yes. But—”
“But what?”
“What if I love them both?”
“Do you? You never said you loved Marko. You have to be honest with yourself.”
The room was filling with light. They’d talked all night when they should have been sleeping. “It’s morning.”
“I know. You must choose!”
Ammey woke with a start and with Julia’s words hanging in the air. She sat straight up, sniffing to be certain of what she smelled. Yes! The scent of wild loira was there, but fading. “Julia?” It was absurd, the way she listened for an answer. Slowly, she lay back down, reflecting on the dream. “I miss you,” she whispered. “I miss you so much.”
It was just past daybreak, but she had slept for more hours straight than she had in months. Besides, she needed to learn the outcome of Alexander’s meeting with Marko. Today was the day that would decide their fate. A chilling thought suddenly occurred to her. What if Marko didn’t care that she was alive? Zino might have infected his thinking. The panic she felt was pressing, but this was the time to be strong and to face truths, whatever they turned out to be.
When she left the tent, the cold air stung her face.
“Ammey,” David called.
She turned to face him and smiled with relief.
“Good morning,” he said as he reached her. “Come breakfast with me.”
She nodded and they walked on. “What happened with Alexander?”
“Corin agreed to a truce.”
She exhaled, too relieved for words.
“We meet at noon. He wants to see you,” he added warily.
She nodded, although her mind was in turmoil with thoughts of Vincent and the anguish her father must be feeling. Seeing Marko would not be difficult for her. In many ways, it would be a relief. But it would be painful for her family and Vincent.
She smelled food before they arrived at the dining hall and her stomach growled. David opened the door for her and she stepped in, grateful for the warmth. They were given porridge, bread and strong, hot tea. After eating most of the food, she felt stronger. “David?”
He looked up. “Hmm?”
“Where is Saren?” He hesitated, but his expression confirmed her fear. He was dead. “When?”
“In the summer.” He paused. “We’ve lost too many friends.”
“Yes,” she agreed quietly.
“Are you prepared to see Corin?”
She nodded, but avoided his curious gaze. “I am.”
“You’re not in love with him, are you?” he asked softly enough that no one else would hear.
She scooped a heaping spoonful. “I would answer you, except my mouth is full.” She took the bite.
He grinned. “I’ll remember that, you know.”
It was good to tease and be teased again. It was as nourishing as the food.
~~~
“Sire,” a man whispered, waking Corin. “We found Voreskae.”
Marko sat up. It was morning, but exceptionally early. “Alive?”
“Very much alive.”
“What about Zephyr?”
“We’re still looking.”
Marko swung his legs around. “Where is Voreskae?”
“Just outside.”
“I’ll collect myself, and then you can bring him in.”
Salvo Voreskae had never looked more disheveled as he did as he was led in.
“You’re going to die for your treachery,” Marko announced from his chair, attempting to appear detached and unperturbed, the very opposite of how he felt. “The only question is how humanely it will be done.”
“I have done nothing to deserve this,” Voreskae fumed.
“I will hear your confession. Only the crimes committed against me, if you please.”
“I’ve done nothing!”
Corin glanced at the soldier nearest Voreskae, who swung around and struck him in the face. Salvo cried out and doubled over, blood pouring from his nose.
“On your knees, dog,” Tullmoore ordered.
A guard kicked out Voreskae’s knees from behind and he collapsed on the floor. He rose to a kneeling position, no longer bothering to staunch the blood flow, and glowered at Corin.
“Your crimes,” Marko repeated. “And if you leave any out that Zephyr has already revealed,” he began. He paused to enjoy the shock and despair on Voreskae’s face at the mention of Zino. So, apparently, he did not know where his accomplice was. “Have you seen the device he designed to crush a man’s testicles? Perhaps you helped design it.”
Voreskae’s facial features began twitching. “None of it was my idea,” he uttered shakily.
The pit of Marko’s stomach tightened at the confirmation. “That is not what I asked.”
“Alright,” Voreskae relented.
“Starting with your most recent treachery and working your way back, I think.”
“Jade,” Voreskae said. “We, Zino, that is, had her abducted and murdered. Her …severed head was to have come back.”
Corin clutched his hands together to keep them from shaking. “But it did not,” he said as calmly as he could.
“No, it did not. Zino realized we needed a substitute.”
“So you had another woman marked, then cut off her arm.”
“Yes.”
“And Mehr?”
A look of sheer hatred crossed Voreskae’s face and then a strange smile twisted his lips. “The finest forger in the city penned a journal to appear written by Mehr’s own hand.”
The pride in Voreskae’s expression made Marko tremble with rage. He did not trust his voice to speak.
“How did you get Xander Beck to confess?” Tullmoore asked after several moments of strained silence.
“Same as with Vhord,” Voreskae replied with a shrug. He drew back and huffed in surprise at the look that came over Corin’s face. “Oh! Zino didn’t tell you that, eh?”
Corin struggled to breathe.
A victorious smile lit Voreskae’s face until a hard kick to his ribs sobered him.
“Keep talking, you piece of shit,” Tullmoore hissed.
“My father?” Corin said, no longer bothering to appear unaffected.
“Was not a man we could control,” Voreskae bit out. “Nor were we confident of William.”
Marko grabbed the sides of his chair and squeezed. “You killed my father and brother?”
“An assassin killed your father. A man by the name of Jonah Long.”
“And Vhord?” a guard spoke up.
Voreskae shrugged. “Had a family he could not abide seeing tortured to death.”
Marko was reeling. He’d murdered an innocent man. As a thirteen year old boy, he had murdered an innocent man who had only been trying to protect his family.
“And it was the same with Beck,” Tullmoore said.
“Yes. All you need is a common man who loves his wife and children more than he loves himself.”
“William,” Marko uttered weakly. “What did you do to him?”
“Poison, of course. It was put into his food at first and then into the tonics
he drank to get well.”
Marko Corin leaned back, feeling ill.
“Sire,” Tullmore said. “Have you heard enough from this traitor?”
Corin nodded once.
Voreskae was yanked to his feet. “You are weaklings,” the man spat. “None of you have the stomachs to come up with, let alone carry out such bold moves. It takes men of vision and resolve. Men like me. Like Zephyr.” He was hustled from the tent. “You’ll never prevail without us to lead the effort,” he cried. “You are digging your own graves!”
“Will you trust us to dispose of him as we see fit?” Tullmoore asked when Voreskae was gone.
Marko lifted a hand and stiffly nodded again.
“I’m sorry for what you learned, sire. I hope we find Zephyr soon.”
Marko met the man’s concerned gaze. “Him, I will kill myself.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Preparations for the conference were carefully carried out and monitored by both sides. At noon, Marko Corin and his top generals entered the hall, the second group to arrive. Their black and silver uniforms were impressive, their fine, leather boots noisy on the marble floor, but it was Corin himself who drew every eye. He was uncommonly handsome and possessed the bearing of a king.
Rehan Isolde rose from his place near the middle of the long table. “If I may begin introductions,” he said. “Marko Corin, king of Bellux-Abry,” he said, gesturing to Corin.
“Rehan Isolde,” Corin returned coolly. “Heir to the throne of N’awllah.” He turned his gaze to Lucas McKeaf. “And you are General Lucas McKeaf.”
Lucas maintained a stony expression.
“And these are four of his sons,” Isolde continued. “Anthony, David, Tom and Dane.”
Corin looked at each, his gaze lingering the longest on Dane, who bore an uncanny resemblance to Jade. They all detested him; that much was apparent.
Kidder observed Ammey peering through a crack in the library doors as Corin and his group arrived. He had gladly agreed to stay with her, but he had no idea what to say or do to help her. “Let’s have some port,” he suggested. “They’re going to be at it for awhile.” Ammey silently shut the door and came back into the room as he poured glasses of port. Handing her one, he said, “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
