The Traitor’s Ruin

by Erin Beaty

  The older lieutenant gruffly introduced himself as Zach Tanner, and Alex instantly liked him. With a background as poor as a tanner, he must have had to fight his way into an officer’s commission, perhaps—judging from his scarred face—earning it on the battlefield. Tanner and Hatfield had a rapport with each other, a kinship of experience, and there was no question in Alex’s mind that they’d both earned their rank. Ironically, his own famous name meant he’d always have to prove his.

  Once introductions were finished, Alex moved to stand by a chair near the end of the rectangular table, and the others followed his lead. Normally the table was long enough to seat all twenty members of the king’s council, but several leaves had been removed to size it down for ten, making the room feel even larger. After a minute, the herald announced the king’s arrival.

  “His Majesty, Raymond the Second, King of Demora.”

  Everyone came to attention as Alex’s uncle Raymond strode in, Colonel Traysden, Ambassador Gramwell, and Ash Carter trailing in his wake. At forty-four, the king had hair that was thin on top and somewhere between gray and white, but his step was light and his mind sharp. The ambassador behind him was older, with thick hair much redder than his son’s and shot with white streaks. When they came to the table, Alex and the others turned to face the king and bowed as the chamber doors were shut. Raymond pulled his own chair out and sat, then waited for everyone else to be seated. Traysden and Ash were on His Majesty’s right and left, and at Ash’s gesture, Alex took the place next to him.

  The ambassador sat on the opposite end, barely sharing a glance with his son, while the minister of intelligence watched Alex with keen gray eyes set in a weathered face. What little hair he had left was cut so close to his head it was nearly shaved. Raymond looked to each face with bright hazel eyes, settling on Alex last.

  “Welcome,” the king said. “Time is short so I will get right to business. Most of you have been in Tasmet these past months dealing with the aftermath of the D’Amiran rebellion and their alliance with Kimisara. I’m sorry to say how much the treachery of our own nobility took us by surprise.”

  Alex’s father, General Quinn, had suspected the D’Amirans of some sort of collusion last year, but winter weather had prevented him from informing the king—which was why the Concordium mission in the spring had included discreet reconnaissance. Had it not been for Sage and her insight on the power the duke had planned to draw to himself through the marriages of his allies, Alex would never have figured out what was going on. While the uprising had been stopped, the region was still a mess of D’Amiran loyalists and Kimisar raiders. Whenever the army engaged the enemy, they succeeded, but they were having trouble finding them.

  The king cleared his throat. “Many years ago, I disbanded the Norsari as a gesture of peace, believing their existence provoked hostility. Now I know their absence is an invitation. War is once again on our doorstep, and we are less prepared than ever to deal with it.” The king nodded to his right. “To that end, I’ve been consulting with Colonel Traysden on what I’m sure you all suspect.” He paused; one could have heard a feather drop. “I am reinstating the Norsari Battalion. Under the recommendations of your superiors, you six are the most qualified men to accomplish this.”

  A smile Alex couldn’t prevent spread across his cheeks until he realized Uncle Raymond had numbered them at six. Other than Traysden, Alex was the most senior officer present. The smile froze and then dropped off his face.

  No, it was impossible.

  “We’re starting with only a company,” the king continued. “Once your unit is functional and training protocols have been established and you’re experienced enough to lead new recruits more effectively, we will expand to a full battalion.”

  Alex’s mouth was completely dry as his uncle focused on him again, but it was Colonel Traysden who spoke.

  “Captain Alexander Quinn, you are hereby offered command of Norsari Battalion One, effective immediately.”

  * * *

  Alex slumped against the wall outside the council chamber after Nadira, Tanner, and Hatfield had disappeared around the corner. “Did that just happen?” he said.

  Casseck rolled his eyes. “No one else was surprised.”

  “I can’t even tell Sage.” Alex ran a hand over his face. The Norsari were to be a secret until they were ready. “How am I supposed to keep this from her?”

  “Say you have command of a special assignment,” Gramwell suggested.

  Command. She’d be so proud. Alex pushed off the wall. “I’ll see you two back at the barracks. We’ve got to get to work.”

  “Not yet,” came a voice. Ash Carter stood in the doorway to the room where Colonel Traysden, Ambassador Gramwell, and the king had remained. The sergeant beckoned with a finger. “It’s not over for you, Captain.”

  10

  INSIDE THE COUNCIL chamber, Colonel Traysden unrolled a map and set books on the corners to hold it open before standing straight. “What we are about to tell you, Captain, must not leave this room. Not even your officers may know.”

  That was disconcerting. Alex didn’t know Nadira, Tanner, or Hatfield yet, but if they’d been chosen for this mission, they were already considered loyal and dependable. As for Cass and Gram, Alex trusted them with his life. With Sage’s life. He glanced at his uncle, the king, who stood gazing out the window with his hands clasped behind him. “Why not?” Alex couldn’t help asking.

  “For the same reason we kept a lid on our extra purpose during the Concordium escort,” said Ash. “A man looking for ghosts will see them everywhere.”

  Like all reconnaissance missions, last year’s spying on the duke was approached with neutrality; otherwise everything would’ve looked like treason. Impartiality was difficult, however. Even now, Alex felt his cheeks grow warm at the thought of how he’d first suspected Sage of being a spy. The evidence was fairly damning at the time, enough that it led him to break into her room and go through her private things. He also was honest enough to admit his personal motivations for uncovering her true identity had been as strong as the tactical reasons.

  “What kind of ghosts am I looking for?”

  Colonel Traysden gestured to the map detailing the southern boundary with the desert nation of Casmun. “Late last September, a Ranger detachment came across a place where at least fifty men had camped on the north side of the Kaz River.” He moved his fingers over several charcoal lines. “Trails of them trickled out from this point and faded, but one—the largest—went as far as the Jovan Road. Then they turned back south, crossed the river, and went into Casmun.”

  The minister of intelligence paused and looked at Alex. “What would you conclude, Captain?”

  Casmun hadn’t talked to Demora in generations, but it seemed obvious. “Our border is being tested,” said Alex.

  All heads nodded, and Traysden continued. “Unfortunately, little information could be gathered. The camp was almost two weeks old when it was found, meaning it had appeared as soon as the Rangers had passed—which also meant they knew the Demoran routine.”

  Rangers were squads of about ten soldiers who regularly patrolled Demora’s boundaries, which had been considered among the easiest and safest assignments. “Sir, are you saying they watched us for months, and we never noticed?”

  “We did notice,” answered Traysden. “Rangers have been interacting with Casmuni for the last couple years, but it always appeared innocent, even friendly.” He nodded to the king. “His Majesty and I had hoped it meant they wanted to talk.”

  Uncle Raymond came closer. “Then last year the D’Amirans rebelled and the Kimisar joined them,” he said. “Our encounters with the Casmuni didn’t seem important until word of this reached us here in November. Both passes were frozen for the winter by then. That’s a bad time to realize just how few soldiers are east of the Catrix.”

  Alex’s own orders to report to Tennegol had been written in December, but they’d taken almost two months to reach him, then he’d
needed another month to gather the men he wanted. So much time had been lost.

  The king sat in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. “The question is, does this have anything to do with what’s going on in Tasmet? Are the Casmuni working with the Kimisar to create more chaos, or have they just been waiting for us to be distracted? Either way, a group that large sneaking that deep into our territory isn’t something we can ignore.”

  “It can’t be the first or last time they’ve done it, either,” added Ash.

  Colonel Traysden put a finger on the map where the Kaz River ran southeast. “This is where you will set up your training camp. From here you can send scouting parties all along the border. Find where the Casmuni have been crossing, when, and how many.”

  “Pardon my asking, sir, Your Majesty,” said Alex, “but why not put a full army battalion in the area now? Why only a company-sized unit, and a training one at that?”

  “Several reasons,” said the king, sitting back and ticking off his fingers. “First, I want the Norsari back. I’ve wanted it for years, but I was restricted by that damn treaty until Kimisara broke the terms. Even after last spring, I had to fight the council because many said it was only a rebellion, not an invasion, and the Kimisar in Tasmet had technically been invited in by Demoran nobility. It wasn’t until Lord Farthingham’s son was killed in action last autumn that the tide turned in my favor. Second, you’re starting with two hundred fifty of the best soldiers in the realm. That makes you worth at least twice that number. Third, the flexibility and speed of a Norsari unit makes them ideal for this kind of reconnaissance.”

  Once they’re trained, Alex wanted to say, but plainly they were expected to operate from day one.

  “Lastly, Norsari don’t need support; they live mostly off the land. You know how many supplies a regular unit requires and how much attention that attracts. I can’t spare the numbers, I can’t spare the supplies, and I certainly don’t want the attention.”

  Alex furrowed his brow. Since when was Demora short on resources?

  “Father,” Ash interrupted. “I don’t think the captain understands how thinly we’re stretched.”

  “I know the army had to occupy much of Crescera to ensure D’Amiran’s allies there didn’t try anything foolish,” said Alex. In the years before his attempted coup, the duke had bound half of his nobles to the richest families of Crescera through marriages. It was Sage who had realized why.

  “It’s not just that,” said Ambassador Gramwell, speaking for the first time. “Almost no grain has come from Crescera in over a year. Now the bulk of it goes to the army or travels by the Northern Road. Once wagons reach Mondelea, they’re faced with three more weeks of a rough journey south or selling their loads to coastal merchants, and most choose the latter. Between that and the valley and capital absorbing refugees from Tasmet, food stores on this side of the mountains are nearly exhausted. How do you think people would react to news we’re expecting a Casmuni invasion?”

  “Which we are not expecting,” the king insisted. “But people will assume the worst, and I won’t have panic. Meanwhile, I want a diplomatic solution, and that starts with a show of strength. Whatever Casmun’s intentions, the Norsari’s presence will make them think twice. Your job, Captain, is to find out what those intentions are.”

  Ambassador Gramwell indicated the Vinova Fortress in the southeast corner of Demora. “I’ll be setting up an embassy of sorts here, though it’s going to take time to gather what I need. Vinova hasn’t been properly manned in years. As a consequence, I must gather a great deal more supplies and personnel.” He turned to address the king. “My actions haven’t been noticed yet, sire, and in retrospect, bringing Lady Clare with me was most fortuitous. The queen has invited her to stay through the summer, so now I have a public reason to have come to the capital.”

  Alex was glad for Sage’s sake. He’d be gone soon, but Clare would be here.

  Colonel Traysden focused on the map. “How long before you’ll be ready to leave, sir?”

  “If we want to maintain our level of quiet, I need time. Not to mention everything is in shortage.”

  Traysden grunted. “What about your connections in Reyan? Could they help?”

  “I’ve already contacted them, sir. They’ll come through, but it’ll be weeks.” Lord Gramwell stroked his short beard. “I also suggest assembling the traveling party somewhere outside Tennegol to attract as little attention as possible.”

  “Cambria can serve your purpose,” volunteered Alex. His family home lay less than two days south of the capital. “It’s off the main road, but still close, and large enough to store what you need and accommodate your retinue.”

  Lord Gramwell smiled. “Thank you, Captain. I was hoping for just that offer.” Alex made a mental note to warn his mother as the ambassador continued. “I should be on my way before the end of April.”

  “Very well,” said Colonel Traysden, though he didn’t look pleased, as he studied a calendar. “Captain, in approximately eight weeks Ambassador Gramwell will pass through your area on his way to Vinova. In that time you must fully train the Norsari and find out exactly what the Casmuni are up to.”

  It would take two weeks to get to the border, leaving only six for everything else—completely on his own and with more work than he’d ever had before. “When can I tell my officers about our secondary mission?” Alex asked.

  “Scouting out the Casmuni situation is your primary mission, Captain,” said Traysden. “And the answer is, not until you have solid evidence. As far as the men with you will know, this is all for training, until it isn’t.”

  Until it isn’t?

  During the Concordium escort reconnaissance, Alex’s lieutenants had known everything he did, and they’d been there to check his impulses, even if he didn’t always listen. If Alex couldn’t tell them anything during this mission, the burden of judgment fell completely on him.

  11

  SAGE WAS ON her way to the royal library when Alex appeared and caught her around the waist with one arm. He whirled her off her feet, eyes alight, then pulled her to the side and out of sight. His kiss was brief, but it reignited the fire he’d left smoldering in her last night. “I have my assignment,” he whispered.

  She couldn’t help catching his excitement. “I can tell it agrees with you. Will you be staying here?”

  His smile faltered. “Well, no.”

  Sage had known that idea was too good to be true, so she smiled and slipped her arms around him. “Must be amazing. You look ready to burst.”

  “You have no idea.” Alex paused as they heard someone passing their secluded spot, and he pulled her deeper into the alcove. “Let’s go somewhere private. Your hair is far too tidy.” He nuzzled her neck.

  Spirit above, she wanted to go with him. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I have lessons in the library. Clare and the girls will already be there.”

  “Damn. You’d better go, then,” he said. “We can talk later, but it’ll have to be tonight. Lots of planning to start. See you in the garden? About the eight o’clock hour? I should have some free time before meeting with Colonel Traysden.”

  Her disappointment must have shown. Alex tilted her chin up and looked her in the eye. “I only have a few days, but every spare minute is yours. I promise.”

  “I know. I’ll be there.”

  He planted one last kiss behind her ear before hurrying off. Sage straightened her dress and patted down her hair before continuing on her way, an ache in her chest. Alex’s duties were already taking over his time. She’d known this was coming—knew this was the way it would always be—but that didn’t make it any easier.

  She’d also been so distracted by his kisses and excitement she’d gotten exactly nothing useful for the queen.

  With a sigh she entered the library. Sunshine poured in from the domelike cap over the massive, two-story room. Several seemingly random windowpanes were blocked out, and the shelves around the library were set at odd a
ngles and heights. Sage had thought the arrangement peculiar until the master of books explained it was so no direct sunlight ever fell on the royal collection. Then he’d shown her and her pupils how much damage sunlight could do to books and documents over time. Even Princess Cara had found it interesting.

  Clare looked up from the table where she sat with the two princesses, who were already absorbed in their research project—Carinthia to get it over with and Rose because she loved it. “What’s wrong?”

  Sage shrugged, trying to act like it didn’t matter. “I just ran into Alex.”

  Clare nodded sympathetically. “Luke found me about an hour ago. He said Captain Quinn was given command of a new unit. He and Lieutenant Casseck and a few others are going with him.”

  Sage frowned. It was silly to be jealous that Clare had learned more than she had. “Where are they going?”

  “He didn’t say.” Clare stood and put an arm around her waist. “Don’t worry, we can be miserable together.”

  That both Luke and Alex had given so few details was puzzling. The queen might be onto something after all. “Clare, have you ever heard of Colonel Traysden?”

  “Papa mentioned him the other day, but I don’t know anything about him.”

  It was the only bit of information Sage had. “Let’s ask Sir Francis.”

  The master of books looked up from his cluttered desk and smiled as they approached. Sage had met him in the very first week of her arrival at the palace, before she knew she’d be offered a job as royal tutor. Thanks to the map he’d drawn for her that day, she’d never gotten lost in the maze of passages. “Can I be of assistance to my ladies?” he asked, his long, white beard bobbing up and down with his words.