Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
The morning mists still clung to the roads, the chill seeping right through her cloak, as Iryana tried to look unaffected.
She stood on the wood-bricked road outside the grand estate of Myura River Fort, her back to one of the curling fences that lined one side of the street, boxing in the large townhouses that the most favored of the regiment lived in.
Every inhabitant had bled into the streets as they’d ridden in, dozens of soldiers marching into the fort, shouting for everyone to gather.
She was exhausted; the ride back had somehow been even harder. Everything about her ached, though she tried to hide it.
With slow, leisurely strides, Karvek climbed the steps to the estate and turned to take the crowd in. His new cloak was lined with sable that matched the cap on his head, far finer than anything Iryana had seen him wear. He wore it as if he were born to it.
Iryana found Vaneshta and the rest of their team watching, faces scrunched with confusion as they took in the crowd. Iryana couldn’t imagine what they were expecting.
Vaneshta was watching the armored men and women in the back, soldiers that had joined their march back to Myura River Fort at some point, as if manifesting from the trees.
These new soldiers watched the rest of them with sneers and wicked grins.
Her time with them so far had not been enjoyable.
They were what she had originally imagined all the 18th’s soldiers would be like: cruel and vicious.
Iryana tried to ignore them.
“Loid Pavoshol, General of the 18th Brigade, is dead,” Karvek roared from the steps of the estate, his face a mockery of mourning. “I challenged him for control of the 18th Brigade, and now command has once again returned to the Horvols—where it will stay.
“My father led us through the first waves of the dakii, and claimed this fortress. Now I will lead us to greatness. This brigade belongs to the Horvols.”
Some of the regiment broke out into cheers, the others quick to join in. Iryana even forced herself to shout with them. It would be expected of her, of all of them.
“I must thank the loyal soldiers who helped me.” Karvek began listing the important soldiers that helped, calling out their loyalty and his appreciation.
She could understand the strategy behind it, encouraging the soldiers to remain loyal.
Then she heard her own name and stiffened.
“And Iryana, a promising initiate whose strategic mind was instrumental in this mission.”
Eyes fell on her and Iryana instantly hated it, wanting to brush them off like a swarm of spiders.
She met Vaneshta’s eyes first, noted the confusion and wariness there.
Then she looked at the others in her team, their expressions even more distant than before.
They knew she’d been hiding something and now they knew what.
As things quieted down, Iryana could hear bits of opposition from the crowd. There was grumbling, whispers of conspiracies that ran close to the truth. Karvek was no general, but he was a Horvol, and to some that sounded like enough.
She didn’t know anything about the man Karvek had killed beyond what he’d told her, had no idea what kind of leader he’d been. Still, anyone leading one of the military gangs couldn’t be that noble. She shouldn’t care if they ran around killing each other.
But she had seen the blood, seen the light leave Pavoshol’s eyes. The betrayal in his gaze that lingered longer than his soul.
Iryana looked around, trying to glean what she could of those who supported Karvek and those who didn’t. But then her eyes found a familiar face.
Pyetar was lingering near the edge of the crowd close to the estate.
She hadn’t seen him since she’d left him on that balcony in the pouring rain.
She had kept her ears open the whole way back, wondering if someone would mention him, but of course she’d heard nothing.
It was as if he’d never been there. She hadn’t a clue what he had been doing, if he had really meant to stop Karvek, or what he would have done if he hadn’t been too late.
The secrets she wasn’t meant to know were piling up. Pyetar had been at Midmarket, had supposedly meant to stop his brother. And Karvek had murdered Pavoshol. How many more secrets would she hold before her time with the 18th was done?
Karvek held his hand up, silencing the crowd, before he spoke again.
“The rest of Istri has abandoned us, hiding behind their settlements and leaving us to deal with the dakii. We are our own people now, and we will create our own towns and cities, strong enough to live without fear of the dakii.” Karvek scanned the crowd before him.
Iryana blinked. Was that his grand plan?
“What about the King Commander? He says he rules all the brigades now.” The voice came from the back, and Iryana couldn’t tell who had dared utter those words.
Karvek smirked, but Iryana could see the way his shoulders tensed. “This King Commander has no authority in our territory. He may rule the table he invites the leaders of the brigades to sit at, but his reach extends no further.”
The group descended into questions shouted to Karvek, concerns they whispered beneath their breaths.
Karvek silenced them all. “We will be expanding. For those that are loyal to the brigade, there will be rewards. Darish is now major, he will lead the Myura River regiment for me.”
Iryana had spent enough time in the fortress to know how careful the balance was.
They only had so much room for crops, and the pastures only supported so many animals.
Unless they truly expanded past the safety of the fortress walls, Myura River was near capacity.
She wondered how Karvek planned to support so many.
But if he made the area safe enough for that… her family’s problems could be solved.
No, there wasn’t enough time for that. Her window was already a third gone; it’d been almost eight weeks already since the duchess’s ultimatum.
The Greening Moon was almost past, and then it would be summer already.
Three or four months until the deadline.
Not that her family considered it a deadline rather than a moving date. She shuddered.
Darish grinned at his cousin, a soldier next to him clapping him on the shoulder in congratulations.
“And for my new captain,” Karvek looked over the crowd, and Iryana could have sworn she could hear the anticipation. “My brother will fill the role.” There was something in his tone that nearly made Iryana flinch.
But when her gaze landed on him, she realized Pyetar wasn’t moving, just staring at Karvek.
“Well, brother?” Karvek asked darkly, prowling down the stairs and toward where Pyetar lingered on the far side of the crowd. A path split wide for him.
“I’ve never wanted leadership,” was all Pyetar said. Every line of his body was hard.
Iryana wasn’t sure if she believed him, or if he just didn’t want to be further under his brother’s control.
Karvek smiled. “Are you refusing your promotion?”
The moment was tense, bloated, but finally Pyetar shook his head. “Of course not. Whatever you need, brother.”
Stiffly, Pyetar moved to stand in front of his brother, slowly dropping to his knees.
Karvek accepted a forest-green belt from Darish, his new major, and held it over his head. Then he laid it over Pyetar’s shoulder. With the way Pyetar reacted, shoulders curling slightly, it seemed like hundreds of pounds had been laid on him.
Finished, Karvek sauntered back up the steps, satisfaction clear in the glint in his eye. From what she knew of belting ceremonies, it had been lackluster, but putting his brother on the spot had worked.
Iryana watched Pyetar carefully as he stood, trying to understand his reaction. What he wanted.
A few of the new soldiers started working through the crowd toward Karvek. They carried baskets, but Iryana didn’t know where they’d come from. When they reached the base of the estate stairs, they sat the baskets down and turned, smirking at the crowd.
“More territory means more tribute,” Karvek announced, voice loud once again.
More theft, Iryana thought.
Karvek tossed the lid off each basket, revealing grains and iron ore and piles of leather. A fortune in goods. “And now we can bring in enough to fund our expansion.” From the last basket, he lifted a flower, holding it up to the sun.
Iryana’s breath caught in her throat.
Light filtered through the gossamer black petals and reflected off the feathered, dark-purple leaves. The flower that had come with the dakii.
The Beast’s Poppy.
She couldn’t stop staring at the flower in Karvek’s hand, struggling to come to terms with his association with it. It felt like a betrayal, even more so than his tricking her into helping him commit murder.
Pyetar was the peddler, the one with the drug operation—right?
Yet it was Karvek with the poppy. The way he was looking out at the crowd—had he always looked so cruel?
There was a dark, sinister intensity in his gaze that hadn’t been there before.
Or perhaps she simply hadn’t noticed it. Maybe even ignored it.
Opium had existed long before the dakii came, and with as much combat as guardian families saw, the Kleesolds always had some on hand.
But when the dakii first came and a new poppy was discovered, the world had tried to shun it.
Anything that came with the dakii couldn’t be good, and they should have never forgotten that lesson.
But people were dying, and supplies were low.
Everyone was desperate. She remembered hearing her family whispering about it early on, about using some of the plentiful flowers for some of the injured in Klees. To reduce their suffering.
They soon learned it was as similar to normal poppies as the dakii were to wolves. Even touching it was a mistake.