Ruler, Rival, Exile (Of Crowns and Glory—Book 7)

by Morgan Rice

  “Felldust will be coming,” Thanos said. “I saw their fleet. I saw what they were like in Delos. They won’t stop with just the city. They’ll spread beyond it. They’ll come here.”

  To his surprise, Iakos didn’t seem bothered by that.

  “Let them come. We held off the Empire. We can survive Felldust too.”

  Thanos wasn’t sure that he truly understood the threat that Felldust posed, but he needed the people of Haylon to have confidence, or they would never stand against what was coming.

  “We’ll make preparations,” Ceres said. “We’ll find a way to hold them off.”

  She sounded reassuring, but also as though she wanted to believe it. There were things they could do in order to make Haylon more secure. Thanos was already thinking about them, judging what he saw and trying to work out how to reinforce the defenses there.

  “We’ll need to gather allies here,” he said. “If we let it be known that this is the place to come when fleeing Felldust, we’ll gather allies.”

  “But also mouths to feed,” Iakos pointed out.

  Ceres seemed to understand what Thanos was saying. “We can do it. We can bring in what we need using smugglers if we have to. We can hold Haylon better than the Empire.”

  Thanos wanted to believe it. “We’ve seen what Felldust has. Before, we were trying to get ready in the middle of a civil war. We never had a chance. Now, we have time to prepare. We can do this.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Sir Justin Berverlard, Warden de Castael and Burgoman of the Seventh Marsh, stood atop the walls of Lord West’s home and looked out with worry he did his best to disguise. He had never expected to find himself responsible for the Northern lands, in spite of the length of his name. These were Lord West’s lands, not his, and in the event of his loss, command should have passed to his family. The order of command was clear.

  It shouldn’t have included Justin. He was so far down the pecking order that it was practically a joke, yet somehow, he had found himself in charge. Lord West was gone. His nephew was gone. Lord Nyel had gone off to the capital and not come back. Other men who might have taken over the running of Lord West’s lands had gone along with one or other of the forces, never to return.

  Justin hadn’t wanted to be one of those left behind. He’d seen his duty was to go as soon as Lord West gathered his forces, but instead he’d been left behind to keep things running smoothly in his absence. Lord West himself had commanded it.

  “Someone needs to make sure that the Northern coast does not fall,” he had said.

  Those words had both condemned Justin and saved him. They had condemned him to never having any of the glory of riding with the Ancient Ones’ descendent. To never being able to win honor in battle or save Delos. At the same time, they had saved him, because they meant that Justin hadn’t been there for the slaughter of Lord West’s men.

  Justin would gladly have traded his life for that of his lord.

  Lord Nyel hadn’t believed that, of course. The older noble had left without even considering the possibility that Justin might want to try to go after his missing lord, simply called him a coward and ridden for Delos.

  Now, Justin was in charge, and endeavoring to look as though he had everything under control as he managed the messages and requests, orders and requirements. It helped that he looked like someone’s idea of a trustworthy noble lord: blond-haired and tall, muscled and attired in rich velvets. More than once, he’d seen people arrive wanting to argue, only to change their minds once they actually saw him.

  Currently, there were about a dozen people waiting for answers behind him, but that was normal at the moment. Justin considered their situations, trying to look like a confident leader as he attempted to balance their different requests.

  He started with a knight who wanted to charge after a group of thieves who had stolen his sheep. The knight was complaining that they were roving bandits, but frankly, Justin suspected hungry people fleeing the conflict.

  “Sir Antony,” he said. “I’m sure the bandits are a menace, but we risk chasing them all over the North if we follow your plan, leaving our homes undefended for them to attack. If you want to draw them out and catch them as they strike, then we can try that, but otherwise, we don’t have the men to spare.”

  He turned to a merchant. “Aarim Var, I am grateful that you came to us here, but Lord West’s position was clear: no slavers will operate in his lands, whatever the case may be in Delos. If you attempt to do so, then you will be imprisoned.”

  He went on quickly, before the man could try to argue. Justin had learned that in the days since his lord had left him in charge almost by accident. There was always something else waiting around the corner, and people would argue long into the night if they thought they could. There were still people waiting for answers regarding everything from the influx of people fleeing the chaos to the storing of apples for the winter.

  “Sir Hurok, the refugees coming onto your land are people fleeing the worst of violence. We owe it to them to help, because it is what we would hope people would do for us. Lady Yeult, I feel for your situation, but I am sure your daughter can find a suitable marriage without my assistance. Higgins, if the apples are likely to spoil, send them for cider. You know how to do that without my ordering you perfectly well.”

  On it went, as they started to walk down through the castle toward the Great Hall. Justin found himself solving problems for everyone from the highest of lords to the cook and back again.

  “The under-maids are in revolt. They say that if they don’t get their share of the scraps, then they shall do no further work.”

  When he’d been a boy, Justin had dreamed of being one of the cream of Lord West’s mounted warriors. He’d dreamed of fighting in shining armor, firing a hunting bow at full gallop and crossing blades with the most villainous of foes. He’d trained until he’d acquired all those skills and more, but no one had ever told him that one day he would need the means to arbitrate disagreements over kitchen scraps.

  “If we are feeding the people here so poorly that they fight over the scraps, maybe we should look at improving their meals,” he said.

  He walked away, because he’d reached his limit for the moment. He needed to ride out in the meadows beyond the castle, or spend some time in the library there, or simply find a darkened room well away from the constant demands. Lord West had never let slip how difficult it was to lead.

  As such, when a servant ran up, obviously looking for more orders, Justin wasn’t as diplomatic as he could have been.

  “Yes?” he demanded. “What is it now? Are the steward and the chandler arguing over ownership of the bees? Or perhaps there is another matriarch trying to marry me off to her daughter now that I’m suddenly more powerful than anyone thought?”

  One look at the servant’s face told him that had come out more forcefully than he’d intended. Lord West wouldn’t have approved of the loss of control.

  “My apologies,” Justin said. Lord Nyel would not have approved of the apology. Of the two, Justin knew which memory he would rather disappoint. He recognized the man now, as the assistant to the castle’s keeper of birds. “Is it something important?”

  “Urgent birds from Haylon and Delos,” the man said, handing over the messages and hurrying off about his duties.

  Justin opened them one at a time. They both said the same things in essence: that Felldust had won in Delos, and was now looking to expand. The one from Delos said that they would be coming north. The one from Haylon begged help in the name of the girl with the Ancient One blood.

  This was one decision Justin didn’t feel qualified to make.

  He headed down to the Great Hall after all. There were men there, as there usually were when there wasn’t a hunt planned or they weren’t riding out to deal with a problem. Some of those there could easily have become the leader in Lord West’s absence, if they hadn’t been preoccupied with running their own holdings or arguing about who took prece
dence.

  Justin stood up in front of them and waited for them to be quiet, the way he’d seen Lord West do. Finally, though, he brought his fist down on one of the hall’s long tables until people looked his way.

  “Listen to me, all of you. Listen to me.”

  Almost to his surprise, they did. He stood looking around at them, guessing at their objections, trying to look like the leader he hoped he could be.

  “I have received messages,” Justin said. He held up the one from Delos first. “This one confirms what we all suspected: Delos has fallen completely to the invading army of Felldust, and the men who went there to fight are either dead or fleeing.”

  He saw some of the men there shrug. Ulion, a large man who was a terror with a practice lance, went further.

  “Why do we care?” he asked, in the kind of loud voice that tended to carry others with him. “They’ll wash over Delos, steal all they can, and then go back to that dust-filled hell they call home.”

  Sir Hurok, who had complained about the refugees before, nodded his head. “Let them all kill one another in the south. We are safe here.”

  Justin shook his head. “All the reports say that they are settling into the city to stay, not to raid.” He took a breath. “And they are coming north.”

  “They’re coming here?” Hurok asked. “Are you sure you have the right side of this, boy? Why would they want to break themselves against our walls, just for a little more coin?”

  “Because it’s not about coin,” Justin replied. He ignored the “boy.” Hurok famously treated anyone younger or calmer or less pompous with disdain. “They want to conquer. Wouldn’t you? You said yourself how harsh their land is, and now the Empire has fallen, who will stop them?”

  The men there at least knew the answer to that.

  “We will,” Ulion said, with the confidence of a man who easily knocked over his foes in the practice square. “Let them come. We’ll bring as many people as we can into the castles, hold our walls against them, then push them back as they fail.”

  It was what Justin had expected one of them to say. Lord West’s men were nothing if not brave, willing to stand up against any foe who threatened those who lived on their lands.

  “That’s one option,” Justin said. “It might not be the right one, though.”

  He held up the other letter.

  “I have here a message from Haylon,” Justin said. “A message from Ceres, the girl who came to us here and showed us the powers of the Ancient Ones.”

  “Who led Lord West away to his death,” Ulion said with a snort.

  Justin could understand that. He could even sympathize with that a little. Hearing the news of what had happened to Lord West had all but ripped the heart out of him. Even so, he knew that going had been the only honorable thing Lord West could have done.

  “And do you think that, knowing that, he would have made a different choice?” Justin countered.

  “Perhaps, perhaps not,” Hurok said. “We’ll never know.”

  Justin stood there for several seconds, trying to think of the best way to put it. Ultimately, the only thing to do was to put the news to them.

  “Ceres says that she is on Haylon, along with Prince Thanos and a few others who escaped from the city. She is calling all those fleeing the invasion to the island, and asking for help from all those who will come to her. She says that the defenses of Haylon may be enough to finally defeat this threat.”

  “May be enough?” Ulion said, and some of the others moved in around him. “She wants us to risk our lives on something that may be enough?”

  “Not just her,” Justin said. “I think it is the correct thing to do.”

  On the far side of the hall, Sir Hurok snorted.

  “You do, do you?” the nobleman said. “You want to give up the strength of our lands to embark on this… adventure?”

  He made it sound like some child’s game.

  Ulion’s objections were more reasoned. “You want to give up on protecting the people we are sworn to aid? You want to abandon our lands? You’d rather go off to an island we might not even reach in time in order to die for a girl who has already cost us too many good men?”

  Justin stood there, absorbing their anger.

  “I want to help someone our ancestors swore to serve,” Justin said. “I want to do the thing Lord West would want us to do. More than that, I want to do more than sit in our castles and wait for this to be over. I do not believe that we are safe here, or that our lands are. We do not have the columns of riders to hold back an invasion. We do not have the men to fully protect all our castles. Haylon is an island fortress.”

  Sir Hurok still didn’t look convinced.

  “Oh, so it’s fear that makes you do this?”

  Justin should have drawn steel at that, but instead, he nodded. “Aye, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of what the army coming will do to people I cannot protect, because I have too few men to do it here. I’m afraid of failing Lord West’s last command, because I wasn’t bold enough to move his people to where they could be saved.”

  He looked around the room.

  “I will go out to Haylon’s aid. I will seek to strike down the thing that threatens all of us, and I will give orders for our remaining men to do the same. More than that, I will give orders for every man, woman, and child we can move there to travel with us. Our castles cannot hold back what’s coming.”

  “You will give orders?” Hurok said with a laugh. He stepped forward, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. “Now you’re giving yourself airs. Who do you think you are, trying to give us orders?”

  This was the moment when Justin knew he should back down. When he knew he ought to leave this to the men who had more experience of war. Who deserved this. Instead, he stood tall in front of the nobleman, refusing to give ground.

  “Who do I think I am?” Justin asked. “I think I’m the man who has been running things in Lord West’s absence while the rest of you amused yourselves with hunting. I think I’m the man who has seen to it that peasants are fed, that our scouts ride out, and that every report is heard. I think I’m the man Lord West trusted enough to leave in charge here, knowing that I wouldn’t let other men ruin his legacy.”

  He expected Ulion to draw his sword then and stand beside the other man. If necessary, Justin would draw his in return. He was a skilled swordsman, and he would not back down from this.

  Instead, to his surprise, Ulion took a step back, leaving Hurok alone.

  “You’re right,” Ulion said. “You command here, and you have done more for the lands here than we have since Lord West’s death. If you say that we go to Haylon, then we go to Haylon.”

  Justin hadn’t expected that to work. He’d expected the other man to fight him, or keep arguing, or walk out. He’d expected to have to go to Haylon alone. Hurok looked around at him in astonishment.

  “Then send word,” Justin said. “I’ll not force men to come for this. If you want to try to stay here and protect those who cannot leave, that is a brave thing. But I am going, I will take our people, and I want every man who is prepared to volunteer. I’ll not stand here and wait while the real fight is happening somewhere else.”

  He left the hall, going to gather his things with the aid of the boy who served as his squire. He went down to the stables, saddling his horse and strapping his armor to its back. Justin was more than a little surprised to see Ulion doing the same, along with far more of the men from the hall than he’d expected.

  “I thought you would want to stay,” Justin said.

  “What?” the other man said. “And let you have all the glory out on Haylon?” The big man shook his head. “Besides, you’re right, we might have a chance to finish this out there. We might make the North safer on Haylon than we ever could sitting here. Better to go crush them than sit waiting for them to pick us off.”

  Justin took his hand as the big man offered it in a crushing grip.

  “You really think this is the ri
ght thing to do?” Ulion asked.

  Justin nodded. “I think it is. More than that, it’s what Lord West would have done.”

  The big man returned his nod. “Then it’s good enough for me.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Thanos walked the island with Ceres every morning now, enjoying the bright sunlight on Haylon, the industry of the people working on defenses there. Enjoying just being with her. They’d only been on the island a few days, and already, it was starting to feel as though the island was the only place for the two of them. The perfect place.

  Maybe they would be there forever. That thought had been coming to him more and more since they’d arrived. The thought had been growing too, turning into something more than a dream, until it had become something hard and real and certain.

  They were currently touring the defenses with Iakos again, standing on the cliffs, watching men labor to build artificial rock formations while the tide was low.

  “If they try to come up on our beaches unannounced, they’ll regret it,” Iakos said.

  Thanos had to admit it was an inventive move, and just one of the attempts the people of Haylon were making to turn their island into a fortress.

  “Are they building ballistae over there?” Ceres asked, pointing to a spot where a group of men appeared to be digging footings.

  Iakos nodded. “To finish the ships as they flounder. They have the best sight line there.”

  “But they can also be seen easily,” Thanos pointed out. “It might persuade ships to try elsewhere. It might be better to tuck them in on the inside of the bay, so that they can fire at the ships from behind as they come in. It will cause more confusion.”

  He saw Iakos nod. “Akila said that you were cunning.”

  “Something tells me that’s about the only polite thing he said about me,” Thanos guessed.

  They continued up through the hills, where men were building deadfalls and small towers that seemed to fit in like natural parts of the landscape. There were flowers out here now too; small, hardy things that clung to the rocks, growing in next to no soil.