Chapter 3 The Voiceless King
The Voiceless King
“The order’s been given, Thorvald.” Harald stood in the doorway of the royal chamber, one hand on the pommel of his sword, the other removing the black scarf off his head.
My brother paid little mind to the siren who scurried from the royal chamber, a quilt around her naked body.
I finished securing the belt around my waist before turning around. “And all complied?”
Harald plucked a horn off a wine cart and slumped into a tall chair. “Aye. So far.”
Weeks had passed since the heir killed Oline.
The boy emerged from his chambers after two days.
Hunger and thirst likely got to him, but he was not the same boy who went into that room.
Days were now spent with endless attempts to please me.
Always asking if he could practice his voice on fish and creatures of the tides.
There was one night he asked to speak to his grandmother, asked if Narza had come to see him. The bruise I’d left across his spine from the hilt of my blade silenced any further questions.
Not once had he asked for his mother, like he feared mentioning her name.
No doubt the heir would protest more if he knew how fiercely the Lady of Witches had been attempting to reach him.
Wards had been placed around the royal city, and it seemed, at long last, Narza understood my threats of destroying her position were anything but idle.
With the power of the mantle and the heir her daughter loved as leverage, the sea witch had stepped down, complying to my order that she and her house were not welcome influences over the boy.
Only in the capacity as a sitting speaker for a noble house was Lady Narza welcome into the royal city. Nothing more.
I peered out the window of my study. “Joron has a female heir.”
“Aye.”
“One woman with a voice at the noble council is enough, wouldn’t you say?”
Harald clicked his tongue. “Narza still gripping your balls, brother?”
“Not anymore,” I snapped. “But I do not want another.”
Harald’s grin faded. “Hinted as much already when I spoke to Joron. He agrees, of course, and already has a man from his inner circle he plans to align in a mating match when his girl is of age. That man will be the sitting speaker for the House of Tides.”
“Good.”
It was a disappointment Lord Joron could not seem to produce a male heir, but if he could raise the girl to be docile and agreeable, it would not be so wretched if the man who’d speak in her place could be trained and schooled on how to properly run a noble house.
“Not certain it’s even worth noting, but Fleshripper hesitated for a moment.” My brother took a long drink. “More from curiosity about the reasoning behind killing his mate than resistance.”
“And what reason did you give?”
“That his king commanded it.” Harald chuckled and kicked his legs out, crossing his heavy boots at the ankles. “Can’t say I blame the Bone Lord for hesitating. His mate is a delight to look upon.”
I scoffed. “Every lord has their heir—”
“Save for Hesh.”
“Not by blood, but he has put forth a man from his crew to take on the House of Blades should Hesh meet the gods.”
“Doubtful they’ll take him,” Harald said. “Hesh isn’t the pleasant sort.”
True enough. Lord Hesh of the House of Blades was not right in the head. Enjoyed killing too much and too often, but he was loyal to the crown.
“Every lord has an heir,” I repeated. “There is no need for the distractions of a female rearing the next generation of lords in the Ever Seas.”
Harald held up his palms. “I agree, brother. In fact, I led by example. I was the first to follow your order.”
One brow arched. “Your mate left after your boy was born.”
“True, she was paid well for her contribution, but if my son is to be as loyal to my nephew as I am to you, he ought to be reared much the same, don’t you think?
She took leaving the royal city well enough, but I must admit she did not take going to the Otherworld as kindly.
” Harald raised one arm, revealing healing, red scratches all over his forearms.
“Well done, brother.” A grin split across my mouth. “Did you tell your little bastard?”
“Boy never knew her. Wouldn’t mean much to him. But I’ve explained his role and duty going forward. He’s prepared to serve the Ever.”
There was something in the way Harald spoke that hinted he was speaking words most folk would accept, but, perhaps, not words he truly meant.
His mask was a decent father, one who took interest in rearing his son in blades and politics.
Part of me wondered if he truly cared much about the boy, or if any affection came from the duty of producing an heir.
When I turned around, a force struck my chest, like a hook dug beneath my ribs and tugged.
“Thorvald?” Harald straightened in the chair.
I’d not realized I bent forward, a palm to my chest. I coughed through the ache. What the hells was that?
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
Or was until the same tug came again. I nearly doubled over.
“Thorvald, what is it?” By now, Harald was at my side, clutching one of my arms.
Oline. All I could hear was her final threat. The tug in my chest came again, only more forceful, more painful. I stumbled to my knees.
“I’m calling a boneweaver.”
I tried to wave my brother away, but could not muster the strength. Something had hooked into my chest. Good hells, it seemed it had latched onto my very soul. The force felt near and distant all at once.
Like a bleeding curse from the Otherworld.
“It is not a curse, My King.” Murdock fastened the leather satchel. The boneweaver was an ass, always looking to outwit the woman standing in the corner.
Blister Poppy was a formidable boneweaver, but even I had not been able to persuade the woman to serve as the official royal boneweaver.
Instead, I managed with her nephew, for he was willing to poison himself slowly with the heir’s blood, preparing to step into place as his official boneweaver one day.
“A mere muscle ache,” Murdock went on.
“Yer a damn sod,” Poppy snapped.
Murdock blustered, fumbling over insults that would not come, but when the woman shoved him aside, he went quiet.
“Although I agree with my ridiculous nephew that this is not a curse,” Blister Poppy said, glaring at Murdock. “It is a spell cast.”
I made quick work to relace my tunic. “Explain.”
“Ancient spells are at play, King. From when times of trade between worlds were common.”
Between worlds? “You speak of the far seas?”
“No.”
“The earth realms?”
“Aye. Seems some tricky earth folk might be fiddlin’ with old spell work. Lore says there once were ways to call the sea folk to their shores.”
“By the gods, this is ridiculous.” Murdock huffed. “My King, such spells are foreign and would leave a—”
“Mark?” Poppy stormed across the room to my side. “Didn’t take note of this spreading over yer king?”
The boneweaver lifted my hand. Three hells. There, in the center of my palm, was a ghastly sort of mark, like rotted flesh peeling back to my fingers.
“Yer bein’ summoned through the Chasm of Seas, My King.” Blister Poppy stepped back, a touch of fear in her gaze.
“Earth fae?” I spared a look at Harald, then back to the boneweaver. “Trade went stale with land folk long ago.”
“Aye.” Blister Poppy nodded. “Has me wonderin’ why they be summinin’ ye now.”
“I do not plan to find out. An Ever King is not some creature to bend to other fae.” I stood, fist clenched to hide the fetid mark on my palm.
“I’m afraid it might not be so simple, My King.
” It was Murdock who spoke. The man wrung his palms. “I’ve studied ancient lore, and I regret to inform you that a summons cannot be stopped.
It stems from peace agreements of old. Once sea folk could do the same if they required aid from land folk, the earth fae. ”
“I’ve read histories as well, Murdock,” Harald said. “It is not as though sea and earth fae are true allies, why would such spells be necessary?”
“Rare cases. Dire need. Perhaps we were not the most amicable allies,” said Murdock, “but treaties were in place during ancient courts that kept us defending the space between our realms. There could be a threat through the Chasm that might impact the Ever and they wish to speak.”
I took a wide step toward the man, reveling in the way he flinched, waiting for my strike. “And you are telling me I have no damn power to ignore this summons?”
“It requires a meet, not action.” Blister Poppy stepped between us. “It’d take some doing, but I’d wager a sea witch or two could summon the same to us. O’course earth fae don’t travel through the Chasm without help from sea folk any longer. Doubt they could answer such a call.”
Heat filled my blood, a rage at the absurdity that an Ever King would be forced to subjugate to fae we had not associated with for centuries.
“What happens if I do not sail through the Chasm?”
Murdock glared at Poppy when the woman did not make a move to respond. He cleared his throat. “The spell will continue to spread until it takes all of your flesh, My King.”
With a roar of fury, I kicked over one of the tables. “Summon the witches. This damn spell ends now.”
“Thorvald,” Harald said, voice low. “The only one skilled enough to understand such ancient lore would be Narza. You think she’ll come to your aid? Think she’ll respond to sending her less-skilled witches in a timely manner?”
Godsdammit. I tilted my head back. This was Oline’s doing. I could not explain the appearance of some ancient summons from a realm we did not know save for a curse from my dead mate.
Jaw tight, I faced my brother. “Prepare the ship. Seems we are going to the earth realms.”
Harald dipped his chin. “You never know, brother. Might turn out to be quite lucrative. Perhaps a new trade is just what the Ever needs.”
With a sharp flick of my fingers, I dismissed the worthless boneweavers and faced the window. Land folk were unknown to me and I did not understand what they could possibly want with sea fae. Likely to infiltrate the kingdom.
I could poison them with my heir before they ever tried. The boy wanted to please me well enough.
Breath caught. I lifted my gaze to the distant seas. That was exactly what I would do. It would be a risk to reveal the boy, a risk for his life, something Oline would never do.
Curse me all you want, woman. Your son will be the one to pay.