50. State of the
~ VOSKI ~
I had been so frustrated when Kham reached for me in the link.
‘Shadowfang meeting tonight.’
After Grace’s Acknowledgement, and the humbling nature of that conversation after she’d found me at my solitude, I had been looking forward to a couple of days without responsibility. I needed to get my feet under me again. Let my heart return to its normal beat.
I got twenty-three hours.
A Shadowfang meeting was a gathering of all the spies currently at the Keep. Since even the other Furyknights didn’t know we existed, it was always a covert affair.
There was a natural maze of tunnels and caverns under the earth a short distance from the Keep.
I didn’t know when they’d been discovered by the brothers who preceded us.
But except in dire circumstances, our meetings always occurred in the darkest, coldest hours of the pre-dawn.
When even the most diligent soldiers slept, unless they were on patrol.
There were multiple entrances to the caverns, and we were required to travel to them alone so it was unlikely we’d draw attention if anyone was awake.
That meant I’d get very little sleep. If I wanted to rest most of the next day, I needed more supplies.
Plus, there was a chance I’d be asked to report again on what we learned in Fyrehold.
Though the mission’s findings were now public, the methods and strategies we’d employed to uncover them weren’t.
Those, along with the clues that led us there, and what remained to be investigated, were only discussed within the covert ranks.
Reluctantly, I’d returned to the Keep—only to be immediately called into a training session by Gil.
I’d groaned under my breath when I saw Grace with Gil and Bren, but told myself it was probably good that our first meeting after that very humbling conversation was in the presence of others. A buffer.
After that, I’d eaten quickly, found Ronen to confirm that I definitely wasn’t on patrol the following night, then rested as much as I could in Kham’s stable until it was time to go.
He always covered for me when these meetings were called—flying me out to a spot a mile away from my preferred entrance, so if anyone saw me leaving the Keep, it looked like I did so on mission, or for my dragon’s peace.
I’d made it through the cave tunnels a little early, because we all needed to arrive at different times.
But to my surprise, Gil and Bren were already there.
Less surprising was to see Donavyn, as well as the captains, the Wing Commanders of our Flight, Flame, and Fang ranks, the three legions of Furyknights.
Every bonded rider of a dragon who attained Furyknight was assigned a Wing when they were pinned.
The Fliers were especially skilled in flight maneuvers or stamina and were the first choice for battle in the air, reconnaissance, or moving communications among groups.
The Flame were fighters. Honed weapons, always prepared for battle, and were our frontline in battle on the ground, or targeting cities and strongholds.
The Fang were stealth ranks, highly skilled in tracking, scouting, and any form of stealth, including espionage.
But what most Furyknights didn’t know was that all Wings had members who’d been sworn into a fourth Wing: The Shadowfang.
True spies. Undercover agents. Assassins. Used for every operation that required men to insert themselves under a guise—or, in some cases, to uncover traitors or plots within our own people.
It was why a member of the Shadowfang could be ranked differently in secret than we were within our usual squads—like me.
Even though I held no rank in our usual squad, Ronen knew of my shadow rank and relied on me often, especially if Gil wasn’t present.
Gil was Ronen’s true lieutenant, so he outranked me in our daily work.
We each held seniority over Bren in both daily, and secret orders.
The Shadowfang numbered over a hundred in total, their covert positions sometimes reflecting their normal, daily ranks.
Other times, not. Most Furyknights didn’t know we existed.
But the highest ranking officers among the Furyknights were aware, even if they didn’t serve in the shadows themselves.
They had to be. It was their choice when we were called into action.
And, because we were spies, assassins, and trackers of the highest order, we were trusted. Even with information the usual Furyknight ranks might not be.
Given everything that had happened in the preceding weeks, I was eager to hear the update from Donavyn and the captains on the changes that had occurred in the wake of the king’s death.
So, I hurried to find a seat in the underground meeting room where Shadowfang were briefed.
The cavern was usually very cold since it never saw sunlight, but someone had come earlier and lit the fire at its center—the domed ceiling allowed the smoke to disperse down the tunnels and not be seen or smelled from above ground.
The few torches that were slotted into the walls cast flickering, warm light that, along with the large fire at the front and center of the room, made shadows in the space dance, which I had always found quite appropriate to this gathering.
There were at least eighty men here tonight—plus Bren. Our only female Furyknight, and sworn into the Shadowfang almost immediately, because she’d been assigned to what we later discovered was akin to a suicide mission, by traitors.
I had been grateful when Donavyn called Gil and I into service as Shadowfang in the neighboring kingdom of Fyrehold. Especially when I’d personally assisted him and Bren in uncovering the scheme that almost killed them.
I was so glad that she’d survived. But my relief was nothing next to Donavyn’s, who was her dragonbond mate.
Since our return, I’d learned they were set to be married in three weeks. As I sat there, joined by Gil and Bren, watching the ranks gather until the chamber was brimming with men, though not all of us, since many were on missions, I thanked God that we’d all made it.
How might this have looked if the traitor’s plans had succeeded? I didn’t want to think about it.
I was pulled away from the dark thoughts, by Donavyn stepping up to the lectern on the other side of the fire, so its warm light lit his features from below, sending the hollows of his cheeks and the overhang of his brows into black shadows that flickered when he moved.
“Quiet down. We don’t have much time before dawn.”
The cavern echoed, but within moments, there was no sound beyond the odd cough, or the shuffling of feet. Donavyn could speak at normal volume and still be heard by those at the back.
At first, he covered the things we already knew—that the queen had taken the throne. That she planned to change the face of our kingdom, step by step, primarily by bringing more women into roles of power or influence and changing laws that prioritized men.
But I hadn’t been aware of rebel factions within the city.
“…whether these gangs are opportunists, or have some connection to the men who plotted against us and brought about these events isn’t yet known.
But each of you in this room should be prepared at any moment to be called into service.
We still don’t understand everything that’s happened under the former king’s rule.
I doubt we’ll ever be certain we’ve eradicated all of the traitors.
But what I can tell you with confidence is that Queen Diaan is providing every resource to hunt these fuckers down, to the borders of Vosgaarde.
She has accepted both counsel, and restraint from those of us advising her.
And she shows a great deal more humility than Alexi ever did.
However, the role of a Furyknight in Vosgaarde is now forever changed.
“I will not allow dragons, or their bonded riders, to be used purely for mercenary gain. We will protect this land. We will protect this people—including the queen. But we will not be a tool for intimidation, or the thrust of power over another nation. Should our nation walk to war, you and your dragons will be offered a choice whether to fight, and none will lose their place among us, or in the herd, should they choose not to be used as a weapon of attack.”
That was a shocking truth. The dragons were Vosgaarde’s greatest military might. If it became known to our enemies that they might not fly for the queen, we could very quickly find ourselves under threat of conquer.
“Kgosi has been very clear, and I agree with his choice: The dragons are no longer tied to the crown in any manner, except how they may choose to serve their riders, individually. And any new bonded riders may choose whether they wish to become Furyknight, or otherwise. The dragonfuries will no longer accept restriction on who may be bonded, or when. Our hope is that a return to the freedom the dragons enjoyed before Vosgaarde ever existed, will also encourage a greater number of them to take mates, to breed, and even to leave the herd—if that is what they measure as best for themselves or their mates.”
“You’re going to let dragons leave? What if our dragons want to go and we don’t?” one of the men along the wall piped up.
Donavyn and the captains then spent minutes assuring all of us that the dragons would not abandon riders—and that we were not expected to choose between our dragons and our loyalty to the kingdom.
The gathered men relaxed as we were reassured that the changes on the throne would not affect our bonds with our dragons.
“…Each dragon’s choosing was wholehearted, and their unity with you remains. Even in centuries past, before the Furyknights existed, dragons were free to choose—or not—and would remain with their people.”