Chapter 60
CHAPTER 60
I ride alongside Talan, and only our allies follow behind us. A small, nonthreatening retinue.
Talan’s banner snaps in the wind. It is green, the Fey version of a surrender flag.
Hundreds of yards behind us, the battalions of Fey soldiers march in formations. They are outnumbered by the revolutionary mob five-to-one, but they’re better armed and better trained.
If these two forces clash, only the ravens will win.
My heart beats steadily, a war drum in my chest.
“It’s going to be fine,” Talan tells me softly. “They don’t trust me, but I trust them.”
Up ahead, an envoy from the resistance army rides closer to us. Fifteen of them, one for each of the nobles who ride with us.
I recognize two of them—Nivene with her shining ginger hair and Brados, the raven-haired owner of The Shadowed Thicket. From the way Brados rides in front, I surmise that he’s the current leader of the resistance. I don’t know him as well. If Meriadec were still alive, this would be easier.
We stop a few years away from them.
“Have you come to surrender?” Brados asks.
Behind me, Lord Aedan scoffs. “Surrender? To the rabble ?”
“I can promise you fast executions if you do,” Brados says, his face impassive. “Which is more than we’d have received if the roles were reversed.”
“We’ve come to reach an agreement,” Talan says.
“An agreement?” Brados snarls. “You tormented one of my oldest friends until he slit his own throat.”
“I had my reasons,” Talan says quietly, an edge in his voice.
I meet Nivene’s eyes. “Nivene, you know the truth. Prince Talan saved this land from a deadly plague. He was trying to stop the civilian deaths in England, and he just overthrew his father to prevent the murder of thousands. Auberon was going to light them all on fire with his dragons.”
Nivene looks at me, her expression impassive. “The prince definitely knew to position himself in a good spot to become the ruler, and it makes sense that he doesn’t want to rule a land of dead or starving people, but that doesn’t undo the past. And most of all, it doesn’t concern us, Nia. This is a matter of Brocéliende, not Camelot. It’s not my place to tell the residents of this country who should rule them.”
“And yet, here you are.”
“As an advisor. Nothing more.”
“We’re done being squashed by the House of Morgan and their gold-soaked nobles,” Brados says, “while we starve. We’re taking power for ourselves.”
At my side, Malleus draws his sword. “Just try.”
Talan raises his hand. “Enough. Put your sword away. You look like an idiot.”
Malleus flushes and sheathes his sword.
Talan meets Brados’s stare. “You’re right. This country shouldn’t be ruled by the House of Morgan. In fact, the House of Morgan has never ruled this kingdom.”
Brados stares at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Auberon lied. The throne was never his. Mordred is not his father. He descends from Merlin.”
“Do we really need to worry about old history?” Aedan blusters.
“It’s true,” I say. “Mordred, son of Morgan, is still alive on Avalon. I am his daughter. He told me this himself.”
“You’re lying,” Brados says coldly.
“Ask your advisor,” I say calmly. “She saw Mordred only yesterday. They got along very well, actually.”
Brados turns to Nivene in shock. She purses her lips and gives him a tiny nod.
“Well, then this makes it even clearer,” Brados says. “We’re not going to let Mordred, whom none of us has seen in over a millennium, rule over us. And we definitely won’t let a family of liars rule, either.”
“Neither will we,” Aedan says, his oily voice sharp and dangerous. “Clearly, the strongest noble family should take charge. Farmers and peasants don’t know how to run a kingdom.”
“The most powerful noble family?” Malleus raises his voice. “And who would that be? My father holds the largest army?—”
“Your father has the plague, boy,” Aedan spits.
“He’s already getting better?—”
“Have you lost your minds?” Brados shouts. “We won’t let any noble rule this kingdom. That’s the point.”
Talan holds up his hand again, and a hush falls over the crowd. “Changes should be made. A single family can’t rule Brocéliende. We need to turn it into a republic, with a voice for the common people. Like the humans do. At least, some of them.”
“What would a turnip farmer know about running a kingdom?” Ker-Ys shouts.
Brados’s face darkens. “This is a waste of time. We can resolve this on the battlefield.”
“He has a legion of dragons,” I shout in frustration. “He’s only talking to you so people won’t die.”
“My wife is right, as always,” Talan says. “There’s already a famine in Brocéliende. Do you want to cast this land into pure chaos? For what? The only thing anyone would rule by the end is a smoldering ruin.”
“At least we’ll be free,” Brados says.
“That’s a lofty concept, but it’s not enough. The only way forward is to create a new method of ruling that would satisfy everybody.”
No one on the hill seems delighted with the idea.
“Perhaps you’re just suggesting that to postpone the inevitable,” Brados says. “Your family should pay for its crimes.”
“King Auberon is gone,” Talan says. “Dead, probably. If you happened to look up, you saw it yourself.”
Brados arches an eyebrow. “And what about his son?”
A silence stretches on the hill.
“If this is what is required to bring peace to the realm, I’m willing to surrender myself,” Talan says. He unsheathes his sword and tosses it into the grass. “Just as long as no one else gets hurt.”
Brados urges his horse a bit forward. “It’s a start. Once we sever your head from your body, we’ll discuss this new republic among ourselves.”
A vicious part of me is starting to think about the dragons again. But I’ll have to handle this on my own. After all, I knew this might happen, and I’ve come prepared.
Before anyone takes another step, I pull out a small vial I kept tucked in my pocket. “Stop right there,” I shout, holding up the vial.
Brados falls silent, staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Nia, what are you doing?” Talan says.
I don’t look at him. “As I said before, the prince and I traveled to Avalon Tower, the castle of the Pendragons, to prevent them from spreading a deadly plague. Just like the one they spread on your crops fifteen years ago, except this one is designed to kill the Fey. I destroyed the plague, except for one flask, and that I kept for”—I want to say insurance , but there’s no word for it in Fey—“for security .”
Nivene’s eyes widen in shock and horror. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Talan cuts me a sharp look. “Perhaps I was being too hasty when I said my wife was always right.”
“I won’t let them hang you,” I tell him, meeting his eyes. “And I will not let them burn this realm to the ground. Stay away!” I raise the flask higher as Ker-Ys moves his horse closer to mine. “Everyone stay the fuck away. If this shatters, we all die. Just ask Talan and Nivene.”
Brados rides over to Nivene, and they talk quietly with each other.
“Nia, give me the flask,” Talan says his dark eyes turning glacial. “I will not let this happen to my people.”
I inch my horse away and ride closer to Brados. “I’m not fucking around, Brados.”
“What do you want?” he hisses.
“Peace. Justice. You will convene with the nobles and come up with a way to rule this land that satisfies everyone. It will be a giant pain in the ass, but it’s better than everyone dying.”
“I want them all dead,” Brados snarls.
An idea starts to bloom in my thoughts. “Avalon!” I shout. “I can get them all into Avalon, their old home. No one is going to kill my husband, and if anyone touches a hair on his head, I will happily kill you all.”
“You won’t do it,” Aedan says.
“Do you really know me, Lord Aedan?” I meet his eyes, then turn my horse and meet the eyes of each and every one of the men and women on the hill. “Do any of you really know me? I am Nia, daughter of Mordred Kingslayer, granddaughter of Morgan le Fey, and I am done being nice and telling people what they want to hear. I’m willing to let the world burn, so don’t fucking try me. Not today.” It comes out as a low growl.
The wind howls as they all stare at me.
“Take it easy, Nia,” Nivene mutters.
“So, I’m supposed to leave my palace here?” Aedan shouts. “And how will I be compensated? You can’t have my palace without paying me for it.”
“It’s going to take a while to work out the details,” I say, relief loosening my chest a little. I raise the tiny flask again. “But if I hear that war is erupting in this kingdom again, or anyone is being persecuted, I will come back here and finish the job.”
“Very well,” Brados finally says. “I’m willing to consider discussions. Anyone who feels they could not be loyal to a republic should flee to Avalon, because they won’t be welcome here. We can talk in my tavern, The Shadowed Thicket.”
“A tavern ?” Malleus asks, horrified.
“There’s plenty of mead,” Brados says.
“That’s a start,” Ker-Ys mutters. “I need to get properly drunk after this day.”
“Just make sure not to insult the mead,” I add. “It’s his mother’s recipe. He’s very sensitive about it.”
As the other leaders march for The Shadowed Thicket, Nivene, Talan and I linger in the grassy fields.
Nivene glares at me, her cheeks nearly as red as her hair. “Please tell me that was not a real vial of the plague.”
I smile at her. “I’m an Avalon Agent. A spy. And you know what spies do.”
And with that, I grab the cork of the flask with my teeth and yank it out, then take a long swig from the bottle, licking my lips. I hand it to Talan. “Care for some?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Talan takes the bottle from me and drinks heartily.
“What is that?” Nivene demands.
Talan inspects the bottle. “A small bottle of mead from the Council of Nobles’ table with the label peeled off.”
“You knew ?” she asks him.
Talan shrugs. “It’s not even the same shape as the other flasks. How did you not notice?”
She glares at him. “I guess because I was trying not to die at the time, but what else is new?”
I smile at Talan. “You were very convincing with your reaction to the vial.”
“Thank you, my love. You are also a very convincing liar.”
I flutter my eyelashes. “I went to school for that, but I’ve always had a natural talent for deception, I think.”
Nivene cocks her head. “You disabled two armies with the threat of mead?”
“Well, I would have preferred to threaten them with dragons, but Talan thought that might get out of hand, and he’s the dragon expert.” I take the bottle from Talan, have another swig, and pass it on to Nivene.
She chugs down a gulp of mead, then wipes her hand across the back of her mouth.
The wind toys with Talan’s dark hair. “Maybe it’s best if Nivene rides over to The Shadowed Thicket. Make sure that whatever form the new ruling body will take, it won’t continue the war with the humans. Brados seems to trust her.”
I nod. “Excellent idea.”
Nivene snatches the mead from me. “You two are arseholes.” She nods at me. “You in particular. Worse than the bloody Dream Stalker.”
“But that’s why you love me?”
She considers that. “Maybe.”
She rides off, leaving Talan and me alone in the softly blowing grasses.
“So, farm girl,” Talan says, “we have a dragon nearby. Where do you want to fly off to?”
“Well, I’d love to go to the South of France and finish my vacation, but I think they might panic if we arrive on the back of a dragon.” I smile, my mood suddenly brightening. “You know, I believe I have a long-awaited party to plan.”