Chapter 22
Kovograd, Zagadka
Kassandr Rurik was restless, and his beast was only making it worse.
Hackles raised, it paced behind his ribs, snarling when anyone got too near.
But he couldn’t seem to calm it. Today was the council of elders.
His father had returned from the oracle, and had been sequestered in his chambers for days.
But it seemed he’d come to a decision. Today, the high prince would announce if they’d take a stand against King Ivar or try to broker peace through tributary gifts.
Kass’s mind flipped back and forth—on the one hand, the fact that his father had not yet announced a decision gave him hope he’d do the right thing.
On the other, he could not forget how his father had crumbled when his heir and eldest son, Radomir, was killed.
The high prince had remained behind locked doors for two full moon cycles and had left Kassandr—woefully unprepared and grieving his older brother—in charge.
Today, Kassandr arrived at the council chambers early, climbing the dais and taking the seat to the right of his father’s ornate, golden throne.
Elisava joined him, a book in hand. Sunlight streamed through three high windows behind them, illuminating the rows of benches that soon would be filled with elders and Zagadkian nobles.
“Do not worry, brother,” said Elisava, utterly bored. “All will be well.”
Kass’s beast growled in irritation. Didn’t she understand what was at stake?
Not only for his Saga, but for the entire kingdom…
for their children and grandchildren? These were the Urkans, who slaughtered and raped, who took and took.
They would torture the strong and enslave the weak.
Would tear down their icons and impose their Bear God upon the masses.
Did Elisava not realize they would take her as a bride and force her to bear their children?
Before he could say all of this, his sister snapped her book closed and glared at him with green eyes too much like his own. “Get control of it, Kassandr. Do not let yourself become a target for their hate.”
Her words took him by surprise, though he ought to have expected she’d read him as easily as that book.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Elisava’s gaze returned to her book, and Kassandr’s beast abandoned its pacing to lunge and snap in frustration.
Kass leaped to his feet, a hand scraping through his hair. “I must go to her.”
His sister rolled her eyes. “You must arrive separately, starshiy brat.[*] Arriving together only tells the elders how badly you’ve fallen.” Kassandr blinked at that, but Elisava wasn’t done. “If they think Saga controls your heart, the elders will not take care when listening to your words.”
A low whine escaped him, and it took all of Kass’s will not to bolt to the doors. He needed to see Saga with his eyes. Needed to know she was safe—never mind that Rov and half a dozen of his Druzhina watched over her.
“You must control your beast,” hissed Elisava.
Gods, but she was right. Today would be a true test of his will.
The door creaked, and Kass’s gaze whipped toward it. He found himself holding his breath as a figure entered. But the air rushed out of him as a long brocade jacket came into view, marking the wearer as the first of the elders.
Over the next several minutes, the empty benches filled with finely dressed Zagadkians, conversing in low whispers.
To Kassandr’s great distaste, Oleg also arrived, sneering as he climbed onto the dais and took the seat to the left of the throne.
But any irritation directed Oleg’s way vanished as Kass caught sight of Rov’s twice-broken nose entering the room. And then there she was. His Saga.
Her expression was unreadable, but her air was regal.
She wore a gown of brocade gold with heavy, bell-shaped sleeves.
A panel of sage green ran down the front, seed pearls stitched along the length of it.
Long, beaded earrings dripped from her ears, and a delicate, lacy veil was pinned to her golden tresses.
As beautiful as the Spring Maiden, thought Kassandr, his beast stilling at the sight of her.
The room quieted, all turning to watch the resplendent woman making her way to the front of the room. Rov got her settled on a bench at the front—a seat of honor reserved for the most esteemed of guests.
“My thanks,” murmured Kass, unable to tear his eyes away from Saga. “You did well, Elisava.”
It was Elisava who’d ensured Saga was suitably attired for this meeting. They’d been holed up in Saga’s chambers for many hours this morning, and the result exceeded his already high expectations.
Elisava merely scoffed. “Always, you underestimate me, brother.”
Kass opened his mouth for a sharp reply, but his father entered the chambers and a hush fell over the room.
Wearing golden ceremonial robes, the high prince leaned on his staff as he walked along the aisle toward the dais.
As he neared, Kassandr could not ignore the dark circles beneath his father’s eyes.
Kass had a moment of regret. He’d done this—had disobeyed his father by boarding that ship to íseldur.
Had brought danger to their doorstep when he’d returned with Saga.
But his remorse was fleeting. That knowing feeling deep inside him reassured Kass he had not erred.
Honor had demanded he discover Nostislav’s fate, and that he ensure Saga Volsik’s safety.
And if he were to trust in the thing called fate, then perhaps it had all come to this.
Long had Kassandr known that Zagadka must modernize and gain allies if they wished to avoid colonization by the Urkans.
And long had his father been resistant to the idea.
Perhaps it had always been leading to this, to force his father into action.
Kassandr itched to offer his father a steadying arm as he climbed the dais steps, but he knew this would be perceived as an insult, and so he merely watched as he struggled with his staff. At last, the high prince reached his throne. Lowered himself onto it.
“We are here,” said the high prince unfalteringly, “to discuss what must be done.” He paused. “The oracle told me many interesting things, but I fear I can no longer trust in her word.”
Unease rippled down Kassandr’s spine, shock spreading on the nobles’ faces.
“It was the oracle who advised we unite with the clans beyond the river.” The high prince’s tone now had a bite to it. “The oracle who proclaimed that he who rides the great winged horse will usher in a new era of peace. Because of this, Radomir is dead. Zagadka’s heir stolen.”
An elder on the front bench nodded his shaggy head, and Kassandr’s stomach gave a queasy lurch.
“Instead, I have consulted with my elder councilors. And after much talk, we have come to a sensible agreement.”
Kassandr’s heart thrashed in his chest, his beast’s hackles rising in anticipation. But a golden goddess rose, and the room collectively gasped. Her veil gleamed in the morning light as Saga kept her head bowed low in true Zagadkian style.
“Yes?” said the high prince in displeased Zagadkian. And yet Kassandr saw the faintest traces of curiosity in his expression. “What is it, Lady Saga?”
The high prince turned to Kassandr, waiting for him to interpret, but there was no need.
To say Saga had an aptitude for languages was an understatement.
Her mind was astonishing, her determination ruthless.
She’d practiced with Kassandr, and when he had duties to attend, she continued with Elisava.
And when Elisava had retreated for the night, she’d dragged Rovgolod in for yet more lessons.
“May I speak to room?” Saga asked in Zagadkian, stirring another flurry of whispers.
Her pronunciation was imperfect, but Kassandr’s beast raised its head and howled. The high prince lifted a hand, quelling the crowd’s whispers.
“You have learned some Zagadkian.” There was no mistaking the note of wonder in the high prince’s voice. He relented with a weary sigh. “You may speak your piece.”
Saga’s demure smile was one Kassandr had seen a hundred times, and the sight of it made him eager. Because this was a smile cultivated in a castle filled with enemies, and beneath it lurked fire. Pride built inside his chest as Saga walked to the dais, ignoring the crowd’s outrage.
This time, Kassandr rushed forward, offering Saga his elbow as she climbed the stairs. Elisava muttered something about his eagerness under her breath, but Kass ignored her.
“I thank you for great honor,” Saga said with a bow to the high prince, whose expression was now tight.
Kass forced himself to resume his seat, watching as Saga faced the crowd.
“You are unused to outsiders in your country,” she said in a carrying voice, “and I thank you for hospitality.”
He wanted to snort. She’d been imprisoned in her chambers, and an attempt had been made on her life. Yet still, she faced this crowd without contempt.
“I think I have little time and so I will say harsh truth. You have wasted your time.”
Her words carried to all corners of the room, and Kassandr reveled in the unease that followed.
“While you quarreled about my fate, you have missed important fact. Urkans cannot be trusted. They care only for rewards received from Bear God. Before Urkans invaded íseldur, my parents tried to reach peace. They were deceived and slaughtered in worst way.”
Fabric rustled as the elders shifted, but Saga continued.
“Still, you can try buying peace. Maybe for some time you will succeed. But in the end, Urkans will come for Zagadka. And they cannot be resisted by broken kingdom.”
Kassandr’s eyes narrowed. What did she scheme at?
“You must make peace with clans beyond river—”
“It has been tried,” interjected Kassandr’s father. “Many times.”
“We must try more,” said Saga, turning to the high prince.
We. Kassandr’s heart sang. Here she was, his queen.
“You know nothing of our kingdom!” spat Oleg.
Saga turned. Regarded him blandly. “I know you are not trusting strangers. You furiously guard your island and animal nature. I’m sorry, Oleg, but secret is out.”
The air thickened with tension. Saga turned away from a red-faced Oleg and gazed out at the crowd.
“I know are some present who would fight for freedom. I ask you take weapons and ready for battle. We have little time to unite with clans beyond river. Urkans will sail before bay freezes—”
The room erupted at this last statement, men jumping to their feet, shouting terrible things at his Saga. But Kassandr was more fearful of the lupine yellow flicker in Oleg’s eye. He’d pushed to his feet and now advanced on Saga’s back.
“Lies!” Oleg bellowed, and Kassandr leaped between his brother and Saga.
“She speaks the truth, Oleg,” said Kassandr, wishing he could shake some sense into him. “They discovered our animal nature when they stole Nostislav.”
“You think I will listen to your whore? Think with your head, Kassandr, not with your cock—”
Red swarmed in Kassandr’s vision, and before he understood what he was doing, he’d seized Oleg by his fine, golden collar. His beast gnashed its teeth, froth building at the corners of its mouth.
“Say that again, brother,” he growled. “My beast hungers for your blood.”
“Silence!” boomed the high prince, sending a visceral wave of obedience through Kassandr’s body. His beast whined, submitting to his alpha, and Kass released Oleg’s collar.
As the room settled, Kass edged toward Saga.
Her face looked impassive, but her pulse thundered and her fingers tapped rhythmically against her arm.
Kass’s hand slid around her waist and he led her to his abandoned chair.
She sank onto his seat, and his hand found her shoulder, tapping in time with her own fingers.
Breathe, he urged her silently, his gaze on his father.
“Already, it is decided,” the high prince bellowed. “A ship has been loaded with grain and silver. Lady Saga will board the ship and return to íseldur. This tribute will foster peace with the Urkans. And Zagadka will stay safe.”
Kassandr’s beast snarled, anger whipping through him. Cowards! he wanted to shout, but he sensed Saga’s impending panic, and continued the rhythmic taps.
“Father,” hissed Elisava. “It is the wrong choice!”
“Contain yourself, Elisava,” snapped the high prince. “It is not a woman’s place to question her father’s decision.”
“We must do what is right, Father. Will you leave your grandchildren the problem of these Urkans? They will spit on your grave. Curse your very name.”
The high prince took two quick steps toward Elisava, but Kassandr’s hand shot out, capturing his father’s raised palm before the slap could land. “Caution, Father. The nobles watch on.”
A vein pulsed in the high prince’s temple as he shook free from Kass’s grip. “You will hold your tongue, girl,” he hissed.
The doors to the council chambers crashed suddenly open, drawing the room’s collective gaze.
A Zagadkian warrior in full armor rushed down the aisle, and Kassandr recognized the sigil on his breast, placing the man as a wolf shifter within Posadnik Volk’s forces.
The warrior paused before the dais, bowing his head low.
“Sire.”
“What is the meaning of this?” the high prince snapped. His ornate golden coat swirled around him, yet his face had drained of color. “Stand and explain, warrior.”
“A message has just arrived from the ocean gate, sire.”
The room grew deathly still, but Kassandr’s mind ran in circles. No, he thought, shoving a hand into his hair. It is too soon. We need more time—
But the words the warrior spoke were unstoppable. “The ocean gate lies in ruins. The Urkan fleet has breached the Kovosk River. They will reach the city gates within the hour, Sire.”
Skip Notes
* Older brother.