35. CHAPTER 35 #3
She followed Bale’s officer up the stairs and to the front entrance of the cathedral, where large granite steps gave way to a golden walkway, a token to the Phaedra's tower.
Two men dressed in robes pried the massive wooden doors of the cathedral open and stepped aside, leaving the entranceway free.
Polished wooden beams ribbed the tall arched ceiling.
A center aisle led to an altar with a throne and a chest inlaid with silver.
They should sell it to feed their people.
After the extravagant show, Miya expected to see only the finest furnishings in the upper room. Instead, she found a single bookcase beside a desk and pillows lining the window.
Bale waited with his hands on his sides. When the officer closed the door behind them, Miya looked out the corner of her eye to see Lance standing in the light of the window.
“Don’t be rude, Lance.” Bale’s fingers rapped against himself. “Introduce our guest.”
Miya looked into Bale’s eyes, and with the ferocity of a windstorm, the past rushed up from her depths. It should be her mother standing here before him, forcing him to face all that he'd done.
She waltzed a few steps closer. “I'm here on behalf of Rafferty & Company. Let's talk alone.”
“Your boss insults me before making his offer.” Bale rested against his desk with his arms crossed, glaring at Miya over the thick lens of his glasses. “I don’t negotiate with whores. Lance will help you to the closest town. Find your way back to whatever bed you crawled out from.”
She sauntered to him and pushed the box of cigars on his desk to see the dark label. A hot cigar jabbed into his eye would wipe the sneer off his face.
Bale clasped her wrist.
Before Miya could react, Lance stepped forward, voice low. “Let her go.”
Miya ripped away. Bale stared Lance down as the guards grabbed his arms. Why did he interfere?
“This is the problem with a young man,” Bale said. “You don’t appreciate the long-term consequences of your actions. Never mistake my patience for tolerance. One day, and that day could be very soon, the old man will die. There’ll be no reason to keep you around then.”
“Long-term consequences,” Lance said, “like the ones for having our leaders killed off? One day, and that day could be very soon, King Moress will take whatever power you think you have.”
“How will that fare for Hakym? Or Charlotte and Gabe and Amelia?”
“Shouldn’t you be the one worried about Charlotte and Gabe?”
“My concern is for all the Children of the Old Ones.”
“The Children of the Old Ones.” Lance laughed and wrenched free of the guards as he withdrew for the door. “Right.”
“Leave.” Bale leered at Miya before returning his attention to Lance. “The whore and I have private matters to attend to.”
He jabbed his finger at Bale, voice booming. “Do not treat her like that.”
“Tread lightly,” Bale said. “It isn’t wise to threaten me. There’s more to lose than what you like to think.”
Lance met her eyes. It felt like she looked at a different man. She’d never seen him so angry. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked.
She shook her head no. Might have been the last thing any of them needed right now.
He slammed the door shut.
Bale let out a long sigh with a nod at the guards. “Let him go. Wait outside.” He rubbed his eyes once they left. “Exhausting.”
Miya tried to shake Lance’s rage from her mind. What would her mother do?
“Come closer.” Bale motioned for her. “Come, come. Quickly now.”
She did so with her anger brimming within her, begging for release.
“You’re not thirty yet, are you?” Bale asked as he scrutinized her face. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll make an exception for you, if so. You're lovely.”
He reached for her hair, but she twisted his fingers and held them tight. He puckered his lips to whistle again.
“Go on,” she said. “Call your guards to save you from the whore. Let your village hear about how scary I am.”
His lips flattened.
She thought of her mother as she watched his cheeks redden again and dropped his hand with a scowl. “My boss would like to change the political scenery in the kingdom. He hoped you'd be interested in working together on this.”
His tone changed. “If we manage to take power, the Royal Guard and the United would take us out.”
“That won't be an issue.”
“It would take an army to hold them off.”
“I'm sure if the king fell, then the Phaedra would feel compelled to intervene and stabilize Caspador. After all, we haven't formally declared war.”
Bale sneered. “Who really sent you?”
“We need you to give us access to your villages. Some are in a prime location. We'll also take anyone who can fight. My boss will deal with the rest.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“This is an invitation. Talk with him yourself.”
Bale slid his glasses off his thin nose and cleaned them with a cloth. “You've pleasantly surprised me. Lance will serve as my messenger.” He pushed his glasses back on. “Set up the meeting.”
That was easy. He lasted this long by being politically savvy. Like Miya, he recognized danger. Unlike her, he jumped to sacrifice the innocent for his gain.
Soon, he'd be where he belonged. Whenever he met with her boss, the United and Royal Guard would be there waiting.
She stomped out of Bale’s office, down the spiral staircase, and through the sanctuary of relics that failed to tell the true story of Bale and his villages. They would get what was coming. The captain, her father, Bale, every man drunk on the blood of the innocent.