Chapter 12 #2
He stepped closer. “If you want to fuck the local villagers to fit in, fine. I’d even applaud your dedication. But do not fuck their damn Karath. Are you out of your mind?”
“I. Didn’t,” I bit out, glaring up at him.
He blew out a sharp breath of disbelief, his gaze cold.
I imagined that he was the son of a wealthy noble.
He’d probably lived in Dothik all his life—in the upper districts, of course.
He’d probably passed warrior training easily, a paved little path laid before him, whereas people like my brother had limped home bloody and bruised just for a chance at hearing their name called for assignment.
He had that air about him. As if he couldn’t imagine someone doing something he didn’t want.
Gleefully, I remembered him hunched over with a rucksack full of stones. I only wished I had time to witness every session of rider training. His name, or who his family was, didn’t mean anything here.
“How’s the hatchery?” he asked.
I blinked, thrown by the question. “Why?”
“I don’t need a reason to ask. You answer to me, remember?” he informed me.
“It’s fine,” I told him, trying to unclench my jaw when I spoke.
“I heard they have some eggs this season.”
My eyes narrowed. “Yes.”
“How many?”
I frowned, suspicion pricking the back of my mind.
“Why do you want to know?” I asked, my eyes darting back and forth between his.
“We’re acquiring information about every aspect of their lives, which is reported back to the Dothikkar himself.
Elthika eggs being high on that list because it gives us an idea of how many are born each season, how many they expect to add to their armies each year,” he said, glaring cooly.
“Or do you have a problem with that? Can you suddenly not count?”
This condescending bastard, I thought, my hackles rising, imagining wiping that smirk off his face.
“So, I’ll ask you again. How many eggs are in the hatchery?” he asked slowly, but his tone was clipped.
I focused on breathing in and out, slow and controlled.
“A dozen or so,” I finally answered.
“Or so,” he repeated. Then he growled, “How many?”
My nostrils flared, and I hated that I nearly jumped in surprise. “Thirteen.”
His expression smoothed. “Was that so hard?”
I wouldn’t last a season without punching this smug bastard right in the jaw, I knew.
“About to be twelve, so I need to get back. Or will you take issue with that too? Doing my assigned duties?” I asked, reaching down for my basket. “In addition to fucking Karaths?”
The look he gave me could’ve shriveled a lesser person, but I didn’t give a shit.
His hand reached out to grip my arm. Hard. Hard enough to make me cry out, the basket toppling from my grip, nearly spilling its content.
“Let go of me,” I hissed, glaring up at him.
“Your brother made a grave error in judgment in sending you here,” Ryak finally told me, his voice low. “You’re not right for this. And if you fuck up, it’ll be on him.”
My body went cold. “What are you talking about?”
“The Dothikkar doesn’t take kindly to people who are liars.
Kiron vouched for you. He told the Dothikkar himself that you would do whatever it took to help Dothik, to help him.
” He released me, tutting with his tongue.
“But that’s clearly not the case. So when I send my weekly missive back to Dothik and I tell the Dothikkar that your brother lied, what do you think they’ll do to him? To your family?”
Alarm bells were going off in my head. A weekly missive? How was he sending reports back home? Across the sea? Not only that…I was rooted in place, hearing what went unspoken as icy fear began to prickle across my flesh.
“My family has nothing to do with this,” I said quietly.
“You know what I think?” Ryak asked, shrugging his shoulders, which I wished ached something fierce.
“I think your brother was scared to come here. Always a weak link, that one, but desperate to prove himself. Whatever it took. And so he threw you into his place because he knew you wouldn’t deny him. ”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hissed softly, never breaking his stare, though he was obviously trying to intimidate me. “And my brother isn’t weak.”
He grinned. “You don’t know him like I do. He doesn’t have guts. But me? I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty in service to my king.” He toed the basket again, righting it with the edge of his boot. “So what did we learn from this illuminating conversation, pyroki girl?”
My heart was beating fast, frozen in place.
“Shall I recap?” he asked, tilting his head at me. He jabbed a finger at me. “You do whatever I say. You answer whatever questions I have. And if you don’t…?” He waited for my answer expectantly.
“Enough. I understand—”
“Then your brother might find himself thrown into the Dothikkar’s dungeons for…treason? Does that sound like a good enough offense? Or should we go with malicious conspiracy so that he can be tried and executed?”
“Enough,” I whispered, my body numb. “I understand perfectly.”
He leaned down until he was eye level with me. “Good. I’m glad we’re in agreement.”
He stepped back, already heading back up in the incline. And I felt like I could breathe again, if only barely.
The reality of what was going on, of what was at stake, was finally tumbling down onto my shoulders.
Kiron, what have you gotten me into? I wondered.
“I’ll see you around,” Ryak told me with a smirk. “Pyroki girl.”