CHAPTER 49 Torj
CHAPTER 49
Torj
‘The relationship between bodyguard and charge is built upon the sanctity of boundaries. Romantic entanglements sow seeds of distraction, diverting attention from the primary mission of protection’
– The Protector’s Manual
T ORJ HADN ’ T STOPPED thinking about their kiss. Wren’s breathless moans, the softness of her lips, and the way her body had reacted to his touch were all seared permanently into his mind. He knew if he’d stayed with her a moment longer, she would have got a lot more than she bargained for. In all his life, no woman had consumed him so thoroughly.
It was these thoughts he tried to push away in the middle of this endless meeting. In the High Chancellor’s large private study, a council had assembled to assess the current threat. Tensions were high in the wake of the murder that had tarnished Drevenor’s halls, and it had not gone unnoticed that the poor woman, Blythe, had possessed a startling resemblance to the heir of Delmira.
Audra had travelled from Thezmarr and was looking as irritated as ever, flanked by two of her women warriors. Farissa was in the chair to their right, along with the rest of the academy’s masters. Torj had asked after Wilder and Thea, for Wren’s sake more than his own, but they were sequestered away, guarding the Queen of Aveum in an undisclosed location.
‘Has any more information come to light on the murder of Blythe Rookford?’ the Guild Master asked, folding her arms over her chest.
Farissa’s expression was grim as she answered. ‘A delayed type of poison. I’m still investigating, but for all we know, the crime could have been committed up to a week ago, in any number of locations.’
‘But we believe the true target was Elwren Embervale?’ Hardim Norlander asked.
Farissa dipped her head in confirmation. ‘There were traces of the same unknown alchemy found on Blythe’s body. With no royal blood, the substance had no effect on her, but the poison had already done its job.’
‘It’s a clumsy mistake for the enemy to make, confusing the two...’ Audra pointed out.
‘Perhaps,’ Farissa allowed. ‘But for much of the past five years, Wren has been hidden away in Delmira. For all intents and purposes, a general description of her would match that of poor Blythe.’
Torj suppressed a shudder, remembering the terror that had raced through him in those moments when he’d first seen the body in the hall.
‘I trust Drevenor has it in hand,’ Audra said brusquely, before continuing, ‘There has been another assassination attempt. This time on the regent of Harenth.’
Torj’s stomach bottomed out. ‘Attempt?’
Audra nodded. ‘One of my newer Warswords was on guard. She managed to stop the assailants.’
‘What do you know so far?’ the High Chancellor asked.
‘That they’d rather take their own lives than risk capture,’ Audra replied ominously.
‘Then they’re connected to those who attacked Wren outside the infirmary in Highguard,’ Torj said. ‘Those who didn’t perish by my hand or Wren’s storm magic ingested a poisoned pill. I’m told it contained a lethal dose of what the alchemists call cyanide.’
Audra nodded. ‘Indeed. Their weapons were imbued with the same alchemy used in the attack on King Leiko as well. We can no longer deny that these events are all connected.’
‘You suspected this from the start,’ Torj observed. ‘Or you wouldn’t have had me guard Wren in the first place, nor would you have assigned a Warsword guard to the other royals.’
‘Suspected? Yes. But I wasn’t sure until now. Which brings me to these...’
Audra gestured to the array of posters littering the table. The same posters Torj had found in the fishing village the day he’d spoken with Branwell about his magically wounded son.
‘ Join the People’s Vanguard in their fight for a better world ,’ Audra scoffed. She balled one up in her hand and threw it into the hearth, where it was quickly swallowed by flames.
‘Similar propaganda to this has been reported in Tver, Harenth, and Aveum,’ Torj told her. Reports from his sources had been coming in by raven all week, all sharing the same information about the posters.
‘I have received the same reports, Elderbrock. And we have reason to believe that these are the people responsible for the attacks.’
‘What reason?’ the High Chancellor demanded. ‘You make it sound as though there will be an uprising...’
Audra sighed. ‘The feeling of dissent among the common folk has been spreading for some time,’ she told the council. ‘The most vocal are those who blame the rulers and their predecessors for all the bad that has come to the midrealms. Magic, in the hands of an elite few, is an imbalance in power. The late King Artos was a prime example of that, and this new group is using him to their full advantage to gain followers.’ She motioned to the posters. ‘It seems that they want their name out there, ready to claim responsibility when the time arises...We need one of these bastards alive for questioning.’
‘There is little to be done to avoid them taking matters into their own hands in such a way,’ Master Crawford said. ‘It is a common practice in war where a party takes prisoners with the intent to interrogate or torture.’
Torj knew that well enough. It had been Wren herself who had handed him a pill of a similar nature before the final battle for Thezmarr. The enemy had had plans to capture Warswords and magic wielders and make monsters of them with shadow magic. Wilder had suggested the tactic, should things go badly, and Wren had executed the request. Thankfully none of them had ever had to take such measures.
‘Do the common folk have any knowledge about the threat posed against their rulers?’ Torj asked.
‘Not yet,’ Audra replied. ‘Though word will spread that they now have Warsword guards. I fear this will only fuel these rebels and their argument. A Warsword’s true purpose is to protect the midrealms as a realm , not powerful individuals...’
‘It’s a fair point,’ Master Crawford said wryly.
‘Point or not, they are breaking the laws of the midrealms,’ Audra snapped. ‘No one is above those laws, and they will be dealt with accordingly.’
‘Are you calling us back to Thezmarr?’ Torj asked, his heart rate spiking.
Audra shook her head. ‘No. Your place is by the Delmirian heir’s side. She is to be kept safe at all costs.’
Something about Audra’s tone told Torj that the Guild Master wasn’t telling him all there was to know, but when he opened his mouth to ask more, she silenced him with a look.
On and on the meeting went, the conversation going in circles when all Torj wanted to do was go back to Wren and make sure Cal was taking his duties seriously. He had the sneaking suspicion that the younger Warsword might be struggling with the blurred line between friendship and duty – not that Torj himself could talk. He’d kissed Wren, for Furies’ sake, and he’d wanted to do a lot more than that.
He couldn’t cross that line again. Wouldn’t. Wren was off limits.
Bodyguard and ward.
That was all.
At long last, the meeting was called to a close, but as he made to leave, Audra gripped him by the arm, her hold surprisingly strong for a woman of her age. Together, they left the High Chancellor’s study and walked the hallway towards the archives.
‘What of our other investigation?’ she asked in a low whisper. ‘Farissa tells me you’ve been researching.’
Torj speared his fingers through his hair with a resigned sigh. ‘The Master of Lifelore gave me a list of contacts. So far, I’ve spoken with three of them who all share similar stories regarding magical injuries. Increasing phantom sensations, nightmares, an altered state of reality...’
‘What became of them?’
‘All dead. Two driven to the point of taking their own lives.’
They walked for a time in silence before Audra spoke again. ‘And you? What of your symptoms?’
It felt wrong to talk about this with Audra and not Wren. Though they hadn’t spoken properly since their kiss, he knew on a bone-deep level that this was something she’d want to know, that she deserved to know. Audra’s orders aside, he didn’t want to hurt her; he didn’t want her to feel responsible for whatever fate awaited him. In his mind, she’d saved him – saved the whole damn midrealms, for that matter.
‘Elderbrock?’ Audra prompted. ‘Your symptoms? And don’t even think about holding anything back.’
Clenching his fists at his sides, he took his time to reply. ‘I feel... drawn to Wren. Like there is some lingering ghost of a connection between us from that bolt of lightning.’
‘It’s getting worse?’
He sucked in a breath and stopped himself from touching his scars. Sometimes he could feel Wren’s heartbeat echo against his.
‘Define worse,’ he said.
‘You tell me, Bear Slayer. It’s your wound.’
Torj ground his teeth. He didn’t want to talk about this. Not with Audra, not with anyone. ‘There is no consistency to it. Some days whatever magic remains inside me is more intense. Other times I barely notice it but for a tingle.’
Audra’s brow furrowed, and he didn’t like how interested she looked.
‘When is it most intense?’ she asked.
When Wren’s mouth is on mine. When I hear her moan my name. When her fingernails are trailing down my chest. His cheeks flushed with heat. ‘When Wren’s near,’ he said instead. ‘And when I think she’s in danger.’
Audra made a thoughtful noise at the back of her throat. ‘I wonder...’
‘Wonder what?’
‘If by allowing you to wield her magic, some sort of loyalty was created between you—’
‘I’ve always been loyal to Wren, shared magic or not.’
‘I don’t doubt that, Warsword,’ Audra replied. ‘But perhaps it’s something worth exploring. Do you have other contacts to speak with?’
‘Yes,’ Torj said reluctantly. ‘More books to read, too.’
‘Good. Perhaps make a point of asking if there was any sort of bond between magic wielder and wounded after the fact – if there was some profound sense of allegiance, more so than prior to the injury.’
‘You don’t ask much, do you?’ he said between gritted teeth.
‘I ask what is required,’ the Guild Master answered. ‘Nothing more.’
Torj motioned to the fork in the corridor. ‘I’m this way. Duty calls.’
Audra pinned him with her penetrating stare. ‘Protect her, Elderbrock.’
‘I intend to.’
‘Even if it’s from you,’ she pressed. ‘Even if it’s from herself.’
Torj sucked in a trembling breath, irrational anger roiling within him. ‘I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job, Audra.’
‘Don’t you?’ she countered, a brow raised.
‘I vowed to guard her, to shield her from harm, to protect her with my life if need be. I would never—’
‘I know, Elderbrock,’ the Guild Master allowed. ‘You’re a good man.’
A good man? I’m not so sure any more.
Shaking his head, Torj left Audra at the entrance to the archives and turned back to the residence halls, picturing Wren’s face.
He clutched his chest as he crossed the corridors. His scar was prickling, the sensation stirring up something darker within: a nameless hunger that plagued him more and more, a hollowness that he could not fill.
He needed to see her.
As soon as he clapped eyes on her, he’d leave her be. He’d stand guard at the door, he’d...He didn’t know. He just needed to see her.
But when he turned the corner into their hall, Cal was not stationed outside her door. And when he knocked, there was no answer from within.
A wave of unease washed over him as he unlocked the door and peered into the empty room beyond. The lanterns burned low, but the golden glow was enough to illuminate something that did not belong on Wren’s workbench.
A yellow handkerchief, with a fox embroidered in the corner.
‘Fucking Kipp,’ Torj muttered, snatching it up, the lightning beneath his skin echoing his frustration.
He scanned the utter chaos of the room once more. Everything was so Wren . A potion bubbling away on a burner, the dried bushels of lavender strung across the window, the pile of scrolls on the workbench, the skull of some animal he didn’t recognize...Her scent lingered in the air, and that nameless hunger gnawed at him still.
He surged for the door. He’d find her and take his place at her side. Where he belonged.