Chapter 19 #2
‘The Covenant is worthless if there’s no king or kingdom to defend.
How long until Tangra rules our shores? The Dark Brotherhood must change for us all to live.
You and the other sheep will thank us for ensuring survival,’ he said, rising from the chair as I moved closer.
A vicious smirk slipped from my control when Tymon glanced at the door like a trapped animal searching for escape.
‘Change how? Bend our knees and hope? Do you really believe those fanatics will let you live?’ Boyan slammed his hands on the desk. ‘The Empire will wipe us out!’
‘No, they won’t. They need people to do the dirty work while the Hierophant wears his pristine white robes, preaching about the purity of the gods. We would thrive in the shadows, like the old days. All you need to do is kill the bastard who’s sleeping with your daughter.’
My eyebrows rose at the last statement. Was that what Jagon planned, to turn the Brotherhood into Tangra’s assassins?
The fist hammering on the desk snapped my attention back to my father.
‘Leave Roksana out of this! We allied with Reynard, because he was our best choice… he still is.’ Boyan stopped, falling back onto his chair, chest rising and falling in heavy pants. ‘You want to kill women, children, hunt and bleed the mages for those bastards. Not if I’m still breathing.’
The narrowing of Tymon’s eyes was my only warning. He lunged at Boyan, dagger in hand, sensing his chance.
‘Then let me relieve you of your breath, you decrepit old bastard,’ he sneered.
I stepped into his path, launching a needle coated with lethal foxglove. Tymon was faster. His body twisted, and instead of sinking into his neck and stopping his heart, it bounced harmlessly off his leather armour.
I shouted for the guards, but the heavy doors muted my words
A curse slipped from my lips. I was no match for a chapter master with a knife… but Boyan’s reputation wasn’t just built on sheer cunning.
Tymon cursed, his attack disrupted by my interference. With surprising agility, the Grand Master was already on his feet, hand knocking aside the knife before I could reload my weapon.
It wasn’t much of a fight. My father moved so fast I couldn’t believe he was at death’s door.
After deflecting the attack, Tymon’s head snapped back.
I didn’t even see Boyan move. I did, however, see the blood spray out of the mule’s nose, and my father continued, punch after punch, the blows raining down on his younger opponent.
Moments later, Tymon’s dagger was wrestled free and used to slice through the Mule’s flesh.
Another punch, a twist, and the blade sank through Tymon’s wrist into the floor, pinning him in place.
‘Roksana,’ Boyan commanded. His voice was so weak I knew he was holding on by a thread. I dropped to my knees, pressing a small vial to Tymon’s lips.
He coughed and spluttered, but I forced the vial between his teeth. I held it there until his eyes turned glassy and unfocused.
Only when Tymon’s body relaxed did Boyan release his grip and fall to the side. His body shook as a violent bout of coughing ripped through him. I ignored the dark liquid soaking into my dress as I knelt. My attention was entirely on Boyan’s laboured, rattling breath.
‘You should have let me handle him,’ I gently scolded my father, helping him back to his chair before pouring some mead.
‘I didn’t survive this long letting others fight my battles. If I can’t win, I’d rather die,’ Boyan said, but allowed me to help, as I pretended not to see how defeated he looked.
‘You’re a stubborn old bastard!’ My annoyed huff earned me a tremulous chuckle. When his hand pressed against my cheek, I used the connection to bolster his failing energy.
‘I’m glad you took after me in some things,’ my father said once my intervention helped control his latest coughing fit. ‘That’s enough healing. Call for the Blades, Sana. Then tell my servants to invite everyone within these walls to a general assembly.’
I frowned, watching him struggle towards Tymon, who lay incapacitated on the floor, conscious but unable to move since my poison had paralysed his muscles.
‘Why an assembly?’ I asked after pulling the bell.
‘Because he went too far. I will be making an example of him. I’m stripping this bastard of his mark. There will be no challenge, no honourable stepping down. He’ll die as he lived: a greedy swine.’
Tymon’s pupils widened, the muscles of his neck straining as he tried to move, desperation in his eyes. My eyebrow rose when his fingers twitched, fighting the effect of the poison.
‘Spare him. I need him more than we need examples,’ I said, observing his efforts. Hope flashed in Tymon’s eyes, but was promptly snuffed out when Boyan shook his head.
‘He will sell you out at the first opportunity. And you’re wrong about examples. One messy death will prevent many others. Don’t interfere when I’m trying to protect you, daughter.’ His determination was intimidating, but it didn’t sit well with me.
‘I don’t need protecting, and I object as your daughter and your shadow. If I still am one. He knows too much to just die. We need answers,’ I tried again, but it earned me a humourless chuckle.
‘You will have your answers, daughter. The dead can’t lie to a necromancer, and there are loyal Mules who can take you to Tivalaran. As soon as I’m finished, take him to the Death Masters and ask your questions there.’
‘Nooo…’ The sound escaping Tymon’s was filled with soul-deep terror. His sturdy body, fuelled by fear and rage, was fighting off my poison much faster than I expected. In a way, I felt sorry for the Master of Mules and even for my father, who’d involuntarily played into my hand.
Now I only needed to keep Tymon alive.
‘At least let me talk to him first, alone.’ My eyes narrowed when I challenged my father, ‘Or is this also too much to ask?’
Boyan sighed, but when four guards walked in, he pointed to Tymon, still on the floor.
‘Take him to the interrogation chamber and chain him. Roksana will be there shortly. She has permission to carry out whatever actions she deems fit with this scum.’
The assassins paused, but no one dared object, and soon Tymon was carried out, thrown over the shoulder of the largest. I waited until the door closed before turning to Boyan.
‘I’ll find a way to force him to work with me. If I do, you’ll set him free,’ I said shortly, preparing myself for his scolding. Instead, Boyan’s hand landed on my shoulder.
‘You can try, but I’m not going to make it easy for you,’ he sighed, shaking his head, eyes clouded by regret. ‘You have two hours before the assembly, then Tymon will die… by your hand.’