Chapter LIV Sword
LIV Sword
I press my face to the cool boards, watching the street.
It’s so dark out, all I see are silhouettes moving, and then nothing as Magnar and his soldiers disappear down the side of the building.
The rain muffles all sounds and blurs the view.
It’s a blessing for Magnar and his soldiers, a curse for me.
“Fuck, what’s happening?” Khay mutters under his breath, switching from one hole to another and back.
He goes to another room and tries there, then comes back. Raduna puts a hand on his shoulder.
“They are leaving through the back door, and the carts are a street away. All is good.”
I bounce on the balls of my feet, shaking out my hands that are now too hot. I’m feverish and sweaty all over, and my skin itches. I have a bad feeling, and I keep circling through the possible causes.
The cliff path. It will be even more dangerous in the rain. Magnar had his soldiers check it out, and it still exists in the exact location my father marked on his map, but it’s overgrown and narrow, ridden with loose stones.
Yet, it’s still safer than the main gate.
The Agnidari women. Can they be trusted? Did they agree too easily to help us and douse the brothel guards? It’s an awful suspicion to have, but ten years is a long time, and abuse affects people in horrible ways.
But I don’t think that’s it.
“What have we missed?” I mutter and bite down on my knuckles, hoping the pain will ground me.
“Another hunch?” Raduna asks, stepping closer.
“Maybe. I don’t know. Where were the carts hired? And what about our soldiers who went in as clients? If the kings have spies on us… I don’t know. This is too easy.”
They are silent save for Khay’s frantic muttering as he peers out through the holes, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of his sisters.
“You said today that we would be playing right into their hands,” Arvi says quietly, throwing a knife from hand to hand, almost like a juggler. “What did you mean by that?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. They lied for a reason. They taunted him. ‘Wares’. It was almost like goading. But no one followed us here, did they? We’re hidden. The soldiers hid well, too. I suppose the carts are a giveaway, if anyone reports it…”
“There!”
I jump at Khay’s excited whisper. We all hurry to the windows. There are shapes moving out in the street, and there’s a glint of metal in the light of a lone, smoking lantern. But their size is wrong.
“Are they…”
“Humans,” Raduna says grimly.
“Not city guards,” I whisper, looking closely at their clothing. “I don’t see any emblems. I can’t tell who they are.”
“We have to warn…” Khay begins, but Raduna grabs him by the ear and presses his free hand to Khay’s mouth to muffle his cry of pain.
“You have your orders. Sit tight, or Magnar will have to execute you for disobeying, and it will break his heart. Do you understand me, Khay?”
Khay nods grudgingly, and when Raduna lets go, he massages his ear with a grimace. “How many?”
“I’ve counted twenty,” Arvi says, peering into the street. “On this side. There might be more approaching from the east.”
“Magnar has ten soldiers,” Raduna says patiently. “He can deal with them.”
The humans creep around the corner of the street, disappearing from view. My heart pounds sickly. I have a very bad feeling about this.
“Oh no,” whispers Arvi.
“What? What did you see?”
“Look. In that alley.”
I strain my eyes. A figure looms in the dark, steadily coming closer. In the bit of light from the lantern, I can finally tell what I see. A human man holding a child.
And behind him—the white hair, oh, he should have worn a hood. Magnar shouts something, but his words are muffled by the pounding rain. The man turns, raising the child higher. He uses it as a shield, and I press my hand to my throat, peering in the dark. It seems like no one’s coming after Magnar.
“Stay,” Raduna growls, grappling with Khay when he makes a dash for the door. “And be quiet! Caliane can’t be discovered or they’ll have an excuse to kill them both.”
“Oh no.”
There’s a flash of light sliding off the edge of Magnar’s sword.
He swings it, and the man crumples to the ground.
The child wails, and Magnar comes down to one knee, coaxing it closer.
Hesitantly, it goes. He picks it up and turns, running for the other side of the street. There, his soldier waits.
“Halt!”
I flinch. The voice comes from nearby. A moment later, I see why.
There were human soldiers, not city guards but another kind, hiding among the buildings.
They come out, pointing their swords at Magnar.
He crouches and lets the child go. It runs back toward the brothel where it’s intercepted by the Agnidari man who runs away with it in his arms. Magnar remains crouching, his hand tight on the handle of his sword. His hair is soaked.
The soldiers fan out, forming an even half-circle. As they move away, I can’t make out what they say, but my knights’ hearing is better than mine.
“They said he must give up his sword and turn himself in. He… If he fights, they will kill him,” Raduna says, his voice flat and emotionless.
“We have to help…” Khay grunts, Raduna’s arm tightening around his throat.
“We have our orders. Keep your voice down.”
I gasp when Magnar slowly stands, his sword still in his hand, held loosely at his side. His back is to us, but even if he turned, I wouldn’t be able to make out his expression.
“There are only a dozen,” Arvi whispers. “He can take them.”
I shake my head frantically. “But what if more come? They knew he was here. It was a trap. I told him!”
Khay is pale, his mouth set, eyes huge in his drawn face.
“Magnar never surrenders.”
My heart plummets. Magnar turns, his movements gracious, holding easy on his sword. He doesn’t drop it. The soldiers repeat their orders, and something bright flashes in Magnar’s face. His teeth bared in a grin.
My knees are weak. He’ll fight, won’t he? But more are coming. This is a trap. He probably broke the King’s Peace already by killing the man who took the child—unless he was just a random citizen of the Citadel, which even I know can’t be true. And even if that’s the case…
He’ll certainly break it if he attacks these men. They will slaughter him, and it will be lawful. My husband will die.
“You have to do something,” I whisper frantically. “Please! They will kill him.”
Raduna chuckles without humor. “We have our orders. I am sorry, my queen. He knew what he was doing.”
I watch with horror as Magnar raises his sword and swings it twice, cutting the air, the falling drops of rain.
“But he can’t,” I whisper frantically. “Please, Magnar. Please. You promised!”
He laughs, throwing his head back, and beckons the soldiers tauntingly with his free hand.
I blink time and again, trying to clear my vision.
Is that just the rain, or is someone there behind him?
Gods, yes. The men we saw earlier who disappeared behind the building.
They are back. Magnar is surrounded, and the number of his opponents increased to over thirty.
What about the women? Did they get out safely?
Another barked order comes, this time so loud, even I hear it.
“This is your last warning! Drop the sword! You are under arrest for violating the King’s Peace!”
Magnar straightens, his head turning to me as if he knows exactly where I stand.
He looks for a moment, gripping his sword tightly.
Then with slow, even motions, he extends his sword arm far to the side, the sword in line with his forearm.
He keeps looking my way and says something in the Agnidari language, loud enough for me to hear, but not understand.
“Oh,” Raduna sighs with relief. “He said, ‘Tell my queen I always keep my word.’”
The sword clatters to the ground. No sooner than he drops it, the men swarm him. There is a sudden, terrifying roar of pain. I flinch, pressing my hand to my mouth.
“But he surrendered! Why are they… Why…”
“Normal practice,” Arvi hisses through his clenched teeth. “Subdue the prisoner. No one can see. Let’s batter him a little before he gets locked up. Better knock out his teeth so he can’t bite us.”
The world tilts under my feet. I rush to the door, unthinking, blind with terror. Raduna grabs me around the waist and hauls me back, pressing his hand to my mouth. I scream and flail, overtaken by the need to act.
His teeth. His best feature. His beautiful eyes. His hands. His nose. Can’t let them hurt him.
Raduna holds me for a long time, right until the guards walk away with Magnar stumbling in their midst, dragging chains clasped around his wrists and ankles.
All that’s left are wet cobbles and the sputtering lantern.
We wait until the sky lightens in the east, and Raduna sends out Arvi to check the streets.
When it’s clear, we sneak out through the back to a carriage we hired out earlier. It has no emblem and looks just like dozens of other carriages for hire traveling the streets of the Citadel.
Arvi drives, his hood low over his face as he hunches on the bench. The other knights sit inside with me, and we’re cramped and uncomfortable.
“Do we even know if the women got away?” I ask, my voice hollow. “Or were they held back?”
“We’ll know once one of the soldiers comes back to report,” Raduna rumbles. “What will happen to Magnar? Will he have a trial?”
“No,” I say morosely. “There will be a Gathering. The kings will cast their votes. If they are unanimous, he’ll be removed from the Table of Kings and executed for violating the Peace.”
“Can we break him out of the dungeon?” Khay asks.
His eyes are dull and hollow, the corners of his lips drooping. I think it’s his turn to feel guilty.
“No. They will catch and hang us all. The Citadel has a guard of almost a thousand men, and each king brought his soldiers, as well. They will give chase if we break Magnar out.”
“But the cliff path?”
“The dungeons are well guarded, and they expect us to act rashly again. No. We do it my way this time.”
Khay sighs with relief, his dark eyes locking on my face, transfixed and hopeful. “So you have a plan? You’ll save him?”
I snort softly. “Not yet. And I will.”
The day dawns gray and wet when we make our way to our apartment. I undress while Raduna arranges a bath for me. I wash quickly, and I only eat because he hovers by my side, sternly counting each mouthful I take. When we reach twelve, I shake my head.
“No more or I’ll vomit. Please. I have to… I must think.”
Knowing Magnar is right there, locked up in the bowels of the palace, is a torturous awareness that keeps circling around my head like a stubborn insect. I can’t go to see him. I shouldn’t even know where he is. If I am to save him, I must be free of blame.
I don’t know where my husband is. Oh, he violated the Peace? How dreadful.
All I want is to call a Gathering myself and argue for his release. Instead, I force myself to take my own advice and wait. In the meantime, I read my father’s journals. I’ve combed through them already, but I do it again, hoping some bit of advice will leap off the page and save us all.
I still haven’t decoded everything. My father taught me his code, but some names elude me.
The initial EdB appears multiple times in contexts that make me think he’s an Unmentionable of the highest caliber.
My father mentions him sparingly, and those parts are the most heavily coded.
From what I understand, EdB deals with secret, highly unlawful missions ordered by the Table of Kings as a whole.
He is too expensive for any of the kings to use his services individually.
“Paid collective 20 thousand manoli to EdB. Pricy but effective. Sunflowers bloom.”
“Sunflowers” means someone is dead, fertilizing the flowers. I pore over that entry, but I don’t find any mentions of the victim’s identity. My father was careful, even in his own journals.
The things I can decipher easily are mostly useless. Silly secrets to humiliate his competition. Reports from old Gatherings. Lurid gossip from years ago.
When there’s a knock on the door, I almost fall off my chair. Raduna goes over to answer. Sidonius stands in the threshold, wringing his hands.
“May I come in?”
I wave him inside and school my features into an inviting expression.
“What a pleasure, Sidonius! What brings you?”
He gives me a look that seems genuinely sad and apprehensive. “You… You are cordially invited to join the Gathering. It starts in five minutes. We should set out at once, and I am forbidden from revealing the matter that shall be discussed.”
I let my smile drop, frowning in mild curiosity, even as my mind reels. Ah, it’s so obvious. I was a humiliation, a disruption to their tradition. Now they call me into their midst on purpose. They will reveal what my husband has done and humiliate me back.
And then, they will have their vote. I still don’t know what to do, but I know I must sway at least one of the kings. If the vote isn’t unanimous, they can’t sentence Magnar to death.
I take Sidonius’ arm and follow him, my free hand at my belt, where the knife Arvi gave me sits, reminding me what I am: a fighter.