Chapter Twenty-Four #2
Iryana was curious herself, but she wouldn’t have dared demand an answer like the man, Sheshar, was doing.
She knew some of the soldiers, mainly the ones Karvek had brought with him, were frustrated that Karvek had entertained the King Commander’s representatives.
She didn’t fully understand what issues they had with him.
Other than trying to take control of them, the King Commander’s rules for the brigades seemed reasonable to her.
Darish stood, fastening his pants before stepping toward the man, but Karvek waved him back.
Standing, Karvek slid against Iryana’s side, nearly knocking her off the chair. She caught herself, watching with wide eyes.
“After everything we’ve done for you, you haven’t told the King Commander he can go fuck himself!” the soldier spit out. “We deserve an explanation.”
Karvek gestured toward the soldiers at the door, and they pulled the door shut and barred it.
Karvek’s head tilted, like a predator amused by its prey. “No, you don’t.”
The dancers moved out of the center of the room as Karvek took over their space.
Sheshar didn’t seem to recognize the warning on Karvek’s face.
“Are you going to bare your neck to him, make the 18th submit to his rules?” the man demanded, face red with anger.
“Of course not.” Despite his words, Karvek did not sound like he was trying to comfort the man.
“Is this just because you were reje—”
Karvek’s face hardened, growing even sharper than usual, his eyes nearly black. And he moved quickly, lethally, forming his dark forged blade and dragging it across the man’s neck.
Sheshar’s mouth gaped, coughing up blood, as his hands flew to his neck.
Iryana could only stare, struck by the sudden violence.
The man fell, the soldiers near the door catching him by the shoulders and dragging him out of the room. There was another pool of blood on the floor.
She knew he could kill, had seen it firsthand; but this felt different, unexpected.
She’d seen soldiers talk back in the hall, heard them challenge Karvek’s authority.
He’d dealt with it harshly, but she’d never seen him moved to violence over it.
He was always calculated. But why did he need to kill this man?
Was it to keep him from revealing something about Karvek?
Her mind spun. Something concerning the King Commander, or was it his daughter that Sheshar mentioned?
“I apologize for the interruption,” Karvek addressed his officers. “Continue.”
The music struck up again, the dancers taking back the floor, ignoring the blood, while Karvek walked back to his chair. To Iryana.
She sat stiffly, composing her face.
After Karvek sat down, his body had none of the casualness it had held before. His muscles were tense, his jaw tight. After a few moments he turned to her, the look somewhere between a demand and a question.
She searched for the right answer. “They must learn to trust you. You take care of what is yours.”
The words felt like sawdust in her mouth, but Karvek was clearly pleased by them. His body relaxed, still intentional, but more at ease.
“I’m glad you can see that. And I am glad to see you can keep your composure in a situation like this.” He swept his hand out to the room around them. “I hoped you would. I find it a valuable skill.”
She swallowed. Was this a test? For whatever he was going to ask of her next? Iryana’s eyes flicked to Karvek’s other guests as she tried to imagine what it could be.
He leaned closer to her, voice dropping low. “I’d like to share a secret with you, but you can’t tell anyone—yet.”
She nodded quickly. Another chance, another test. “Of course. You know I won’t tell a soul.” She had proved that to him, at least.
“I will be meeting with this man who has named himself King Commander, and with the generals under his control, at Redni Castle.”
She’d heard people talking about the castle; the place the King Commander had set as his seat of power. His trust in her twisted her gut, because she knew it wasn’t freely given. He’d want something from her. And she doubted she’d truly understand what it was until it was too late.
She couldn’t ask for an explanation; this evening had made that clear, so she just nodded. “I look forward to seeing your plan play out.”
But she worried it would be like when he visited Midmarket. That it would be the start of the war.
“My plan?” he asked, amused.
“Yes,” she forced a slight smile. “You always have a plan.”
His smile widened. “We know each other so well.”
Then he leaned closer. “I know you’re in a rush to earn your place. But don’t worry. You’re so close.”
“I am?” her voice was thick with hope.
“Perhaps all it will take is a trip to Redni Castle.”
Iryana nocked another arrow, the string digging into her fingers as they brushed her jaw. It flew down the field and thudded right in the center of the straw form.
“I didn’t see you at breakfast,” Vaneshta said as she took up the lane next to her. She looked as exhausted as Iryana felt.
“I wasn’t hungry.” She’d been at the range in the back of the fort since the sun began lightening the sky.
Had run the stairs and the outer road for hours before that.
Had stared at her ceiling through the few hours of true darkness before that.
It was the summer solstice, the longest day of the year.
It used to be her favorite day of the Honey Moon.
Between the need to stay close to Karvek, her fear of a war between the brigades, and worry for her family, Iryana found herself unable to sleep or eat much.
She had to join the brigade. Had to be forged.
It was the only thing she could do to save her family.
But the path ahead worried her, like each step forward would be stepping into a war she might be helping Karvek start.
He’d basically admitted that he’d ask something of her when they went to Redni Castle. Help him kill the King Commander? But no—that wouldn’t make any sense; they hadn’t planned for that. She hadn’t seen a single map, heard another word about it, really.
If Karvek was going to assassinate the King Commander, surely they’d at least need an exit plan? It wasn’t like a small contingent could fight their way out of a huge castle filled with numerous brigades. There had to be some other plan. Something else was up Karvek’s sleeve.
She’d been mulling over it for three days straight, ever since Karvek had told her about the trip.
He hadn’t announced it, but she could see signs that he was preparing for a trip.
It would be soon, and she was trying to prepare herself.
To be ready to do what he asked. Whatever it was, it would likely be her last chance to be forged before winter.
Her next arrow went wide, barely scraping the edge of the target, the shaft bending awkwardly away from the corner.
“Fucking arrow,” she cursed, whipping another from the quiver slung at her opposite hip.
At least she hadn’t had to replace her bow. It had somehow come out unscathed from that plunge in the river and encounters with the dakii.
Vaneshta glanced at her, but thankfully said nothing. In contrast with Iryana, Vaneshta had looked far more alert and less hungover in the mornings lately. As if she could also sense the need to be prepared.
Their whole team was working on archery that morning, taking up the lanes closest to the short wall between them and Myura River. She and Mezhimar were by far the best. Other than Vaneshta, the others were abysmal.
Being around them had gradually become more comforting, something she didn’t have to recover from afterwards, though it wasn’t like they were close friends or anything.
They helped each other out where needed, chatted casually when they had time, and watched each other’s backs.
Even practicing like they were now, mostly separately. It was nice.
Iryana hadn’t felt alone in weeks.
A commotion drew her attention to the far lines, her gaze snapping around. She tensed immediately, wondering if the time had come. But she just found Pyetar and another team working with its captain.
They looked like newcomers, and one of them seemed to have done something to upset Pyetar. He was shoving the man into the dirt, shouting something in the young soldier’s ear. Then he tossed the soldier to his captain, as if handing off trash, before marching back over to Iryana and the others.
Pyetar had been much grumpier than usual.
She wasn’t sure what she had expected after they’d opened up to each other in his cottage. For things to be less tense, perhaps. But this certainly wasn’t it. He knew why she was at the brigade now, how she was doing everything all for her family.
She knew Karvek had his reasons, but the newcomers to the brigade were far less obedient. Yet somehow he was keeping most of them under control.
She pondered that as she shot through the rest of her quiver and waited for the call to go collect arrows.
The new soldiers weren’t loyal to Karvek, only to what he could do for them. And when enough soldiers filled Myura River and the 18th’s other forts, would that be the moment he made his move?
She needed to slow him down, but what would push them far enough to abandon him?
“Cease fire!” Pyetar called out, the signal to collect arrows.
Iryana stalked quickly toward the target, hands curling tight around the arrow shafts as she yanked them from the straw one by one.
Iryana watched the general and a few of his captains talking near their horses; sturdy reddish-brown or golden creatures with dark, thick manes.
The young stable workers saddled the horses, checking every strap and buckle, while assistants to the officers made sure supplies were packed carefully. It was a complete production.
The soldiers, Iryana concluded, would be walking. Not that she minded. Her last multi-day trip on a horse had left her sore for days.