CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN TREW
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
TREW
Naveah leaned forward, her weathered face serious. “We should consider the moral implications of so much death. Many of Cyril’s soldiers will be conscripts, farmers and craftsmen forced into service. If we slaughter them, that’ll reinforce their belief that we’re the villains.”
“We’ll do what we must to protect our people,” I said. “But you’re right. Let’s target leaders, supply lines, and command structures. We can break their ability to wage war without massacring foot soldiers who have little choice in this.”
“Surgical strikes,” Malcolm said with approval. “Dragons can hit supply caravans. Magic users can sabotage their siege equipment. We can make it too costly to continue.”
Maddox, Gavelle snarled in my mind.
My pulse spiked. Maddox had poisoned Isi. That debt hadn’t been forgotten.
I quickly sunk into his eyes, seeing Maddox striding toward where Isi sat with our friends.
When he spied them working together, he came to an abrupt halt.
His face colored, and he slunk between two rows of book stacks, peering between the tomes, watching them while I watched him, ready to trigger Gavelle’s change and rip him apart.
Finally, he backed away and scurried to the staircase leading to the upper level, where he moved to the balcony area overlooking the tables below. He stood there, watching them while remaining mostly hidden in shadows.
I should’ve killed him after he poisoned Isi.
Watch him, I told Gavelle. If he approaches them, warn Isi.
Rip apart? Gavelle asked.
Naturally.
Pure satisfaction surged through our bond.
I surfaced back into the council chamber, my jaw tight.
The conversation with my advisors continued. I checked in with Gavelle to find Maddox had left and nothing new appeared to have happened.
Grayson suggested posting watchers at key crossings.
Coralee proposed stockpiling healing herbs and bringing healers in from outlying areas, anticipating casualties.
Malcolm outlined defensive formations that would maximize our magic users’ effectiveness.
Naveah said she’d put the armory staff on double time to stockpile armor and weapons.
I listened, guided, approving or redirecting as needed. But beneath the tactical discussions, suspicion gnawed at me. One of these people could’ve betrayed us. One of them might be feeding information to Caldrith even now.
Who could I enlist to study everyone inside the castle to find out who might be our spy or spies?
Malcolm, perhaps.
“Your Majesty?”
I blinked, realizing Grayson had asked me something. “Apologies. Repeat that.”
“What’s the timeline for the dungeon rescue?”
“I’ll share my plan within three days,” I said.
I not only couldn’t trust them with the details, but we also had to fly south first. If we could close the veil, we could stop fighting a war on two fronts simultaneously.
Without that, freeing twenty-three prisoners meant nothing if the Skathes overwhelmed us from the south while Cyril marched from the north.
The math was brutal. The timeframe was brutal. But there was no version of this where leaving first wasn’t the right choice, even if it looked like abandonment from the outside.
“Why not do it now?” Coralee asked.
“I need to leave Syllavar for a few days.”
“To go where?” Grayson blinked slowly. “If an attack is imminent and we’re going to rescue twenty-three people in just over a week, we need time to prepare.”
“I’ll share my plan when I return. While I’m gone, I expect Naveah to map the tunnels and put her armory crew on double time to craft weapons and fighting leathers.
Grayson, coordinate Caldrith’s advance with the Beast Council and ensure everyone’s in place well before Cyril’s army has a chance to arrive.
I’ll leave to rescue the prisoners the moment I return. ”
“You said a few days,” Coralee said. “Yet the Day of Mercy is only eight days away.”
“The timeframe is too tight,” Malcolm said. “Are you sure you must leave? We should rescue them right away, not days from now.”
“I have no choice but to leave for a few days first.”
They all frowned.
“What if Cyril accelerates his timeline to move his army?” Coralee asked.
“Then we’ll adjust. Let’s make this happen.”
They all nodded, some with more reluctance than others.
“Anything else?” I asked.
They shook their heads.
“Dismissed,” I said.
Naveah remained seated while the others filed out. When the door closed behind them, I reinforced the privacy wards until the room almost vibrated with magic.
Naveah waited, her hands folded, resting on the table.
“Tell me about the tunnels,” I said, settling back in my chair. “Everything you remember.”
She took a breath, her eyes going distant. “As I said, my father was a stonemason, one of the best in Caldrith before we fled. He discovered the passages before he’d even met my mother.”
“Did he ever indicate how old he believed they might be?”
“They’re from many generations back.” She leaned forward, sketching invisible lines on the table.
“He said it didn’t appear as if anyone had been inside them for ages.
They’re small. A large man could crawl through them, but he’d find it a challenge in places.
He took me to them once before we fled. I think he found them interesting, and he thought I’d enjoy learning a bit about Caldrith’s unknown history.
I went through a few of them with him, and they were dark, spooky, and full of cobwebs. ”
She grinned. “I thought they were amazing. I even went back once to explore them further, but he caught me and made me promise never to enter them again without him. When I think of it now…”
She shook her head. “If it was my child, I would’ve been terrified she’d get lost inside them and I’d never find her again.
” Her smile fell. “There are bones inside there. A full skeleton in one area. So he wasn’t wrong to forbid me from going through them alone.
Some poor soul probably got lost or trapped inside and couldn’t find their way out. They died there, I assume.”
“Could you bring me or an advance team to the hillside where your father believed there was an entrance?”
“I think so.” She dragged a paper and pencil over in front of her and started drawing, pointing out specific locations.
“The main part of the tunnel runs from the old keep, the original castle structure before the expansions done by Cyril’s great-great-grandfather.
It continues down through the bedrock and out to the hidden exit near the eastern woods. That hillside I mentioned.”
“Are there any passages near where the prisoners are being held in the dungeons?”
“One passes directly beneath them.” Her eyes met mine. “The dungeons were part of the original structure. If the access points haven’t been sealed, you could enter from the hillside and come up into the hallway outside the cells on the north wing of the castle.”
Exactly what we needed.
She hesitated. “Your Majesty, if I may ask, why the urgency? Yes, freeing the prisoners would be a noble gesture. I’m grateful for the home I found here in Syllavar, as are the few magic-wielders who also escaped Caldrith, but why now?
Many others have died already. This is a great risk to you personally and our court, especially with an army about to march our way. ”
“It’s past time this tradition stopped.”
“Believe me, I’ve thought many times of attending one of their Days of Mercy and causing my own version of trouble.”
A quick check with Gavelle showed me Isi and our friends gathering books, preparing to leave the library. They moved toward the exit, Derren bringing up the rear, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
As they passed through the doors, I sent one more command to Gavelle. Keep watch. Tell me if anything unusual happens.
Always.
I released the vision and focused on Naveah.
Her brow furrowed, and she stared at the paper where she’d drawn the tunnel network as best as she could remember. “I believe the only way to end such a terrible tradition is fear or a firm hand—”
“Which would make me no better than Cyril.”
She lifted her gaze to meet mine. “Perhaps there’s a way to make them abandon this tradition and fight back.”
“You speak of fomenting civil war within a rival court.”
Her shrug shifted her leather tunic. “That or give them a reason to end the tradition without a battle. I’ll think about it, see if I can come up with some suggestions while you’re gone.”
“Thank you.”
She studied my face for a long moment. “We need to be careful. Caldrith isn’t just an enemy kingdom anymore. From what I’ve heard, Cyril has become almost feral about magic-usage, much worse than the leaders of other courts. Desperate men make unpredictable choices.”
“Which is why we need to move fast and strike hard.”
“I’ll do everything I can to help.” She rose, giving me a bow. “You’re a good king. Your parents would be proud.”
“Thank you.”
Naveah walked to the door but turned back, her hand resting on the door handle. “Trew?”
I rose and leaned back against the table, meeting her gaze.
“I’m probably not the only one who recognized that face. Those eyes. She looks very much like her mother.”
My heartbeat doubled in a flash. “I’m sure you’re right.”
“I saw her worth the moment I met her. She’s good for Syllavar. Good for you. She’s as clever as Addie and as fierce as her mother, and that means she’ll be an excellent queen.”
“She’s all that and more.”
“You love her, as you should.”
“Yes.”
“It’s past time Syllavar had an ally.”
“You speak of combining our two courts, yet you forget who rules Caldrith.”
Her snort rang out. “For now.”
She left, and I settled back into my chair, thinking.
Could Naveah be trusted? It appeared so, but if she was working for King Cyril, she’d do all she could to portray herself this way.
Perhaps I could give her a few assignments, allow her into the inner circle. Watch her, then give her a test and see how she performed.
My mind refused to settle, racing through battle plans and rescue operations and the hundred ways this could all fall apart. But beneath the tactical thinking, a few truths burned bright.
I would protect Isi. I would free the prisoners. I would stop Cyril’s war before it consumed both our kingdoms.
And if anyone in my court stood in the way of that, family or not, I’d remove them.
A king who couldn’t trust his own advisors was a king on dangerous ground, but Isi’s life mattered more than my comfort. More than tradition or loyalty or anything else.
I stood, stretching, and extinguished the wards, stepping out into the corridor beyond.
It was time to find my future queen and discover what secrets the library had revealed.