Chapter Eight #4
Aila let out a small sigh as her shoulders dropped. She chewed on her bottom lip as she weighed up what spilling her story would mean, and I was already guessing I had a fifty-fifty chance at getting more out of her before she fully shut down.
“Law and order,” she eventually admitted. “That’s what drew me to the king.”
“Is that so?” I raised an eyebrow and leaned my elbows on the table again.
“Yes,” the dark-haired woman said as her violet gaze slowly drifted up to mine. “After seeing so much bloodshed in Tei’Lorran, and after living on a ship where such a thing was a laughable offense, I wanted law and order.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” I said. “How long have you been a Hand of the king?”
“Six years,” she said. “I joined when I was eighteen, not long after I arrived in Mystica.”
My eyes widened with surprise that I couldn’t hide, even if I wanted to.
“You joined that young?” I asked. “I… I didn’t realize you could become something like a Hand so young.”
Truthfully, I didn’t have any idea how things worked in Emberstone, but it was surprising to hear.
“The king doesn’t let just anyone become a Hand,” Aila said. “It’s a grueling, tough, painstaking process which ensures only the best of the best are able to execute his justice.”
“And you did it at eighteen,” I said with a hint of awe in my voice. “That must have been hard.”
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through in my entire life,” the Hand admitted. “But it was worth it. Every broken bone, every torn muscle, every scar… they were all worth it.”
“And here you are now,” I said. “In Gladewood of all places. With the simple task of protecting it from potential attacks.”
“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” Aila asked with the faintest hint of annoyance.
“It means I’m surprised that the king has sent a group of his best trained soldiers out to our town,” I said in a casual tone. “I’m used to Gladewood being of little importance in the grand scheme of things.”
“Every town is important, no matter how small,” Aila replied. “And if somewhere is in need of protection, then we will protect it. By the will of the king.”
“Yes, but how exactly can the king want to protect somewhere from something he doesn’t even know the origin of?” I asked.
My question dropped like a bomb, and Aila blinked through the fallout of it.
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, and every time I thought she was going to respond, she shrank further into herself.
The sound of heavy footsteps halted our conversation, and when I glanced at the staircase, Raeth’s form was frozen halfway down as she drank in the new company.
“Wow,” she said in a flat tone. “What’s going on here?”
“Raeth, why don’t you sit with us?” Ellyn called out and beckoned the half-orc with her hand.
Raeth’s golden eyes found mine, and I gave her a subtle nod to do as Ellyn said.
While I’d missed spending time with her, I wanted Aila alone because it gave me the best chance at finding more information out.
If Raeth and her dominating presence was sitting beside me, Aila was more likely to shut down, and I already felt like I’d made a bit of headway.
Once Raeth had sat down with Frederik and Ellyn, I finally turned my attention back to the stunned soldier.
“Well?” I prompted. “Am I wrong in asking that?”
Aila sucked in a sharp breath and placed her mug on the table before she looked me directly in the eyes.
“The king has given us orders to protect this town,” she said firmly. “He may not have known the origins of the threats that besieged it, but he knew it was in need of aid. That is why we are here. And that is why we must stay.”
This woman was evidently devoted to the king, and that was as pleasant to realize as finding out my milk was soured right before making a coffee in the morning.
Blind devotion to a man who didn’t give two shits until it served him was infuriating, and I couldn’t hold back my anger at the situation any longer.
“Bullshit,” I said. “The king didn’t care about Gladewood when it was starving to death. But now that there’s magic involved, he suddenly does? Do you really expect me to believe this is out of the kindness of his heart?”
“It’s different this time,” Aila insisted. “There’s far more at risk.”
“How so?” I asked. “Because I am dying to know the worth of the lives of the people who live in this town.”
The female Hand let out a huff, but she kept her composure surprisingly well.
More people were filing into the inn now, but I didn’t pay them any attention. My focus was entirely on Aila as I tried to get her to unravel, delicate string by delicate string.
“The shard’s presence here cannot be denied anymore,” Aila said in a low, quiet voice. “It was only rumors back in Emberstone. Stories told from one traveler to another. The king had passed them off as folly, but now that we’ve seen the magic here with our own eyes, we cannot leave.”
It was then that I realized just how tricky navigating through the web of lies I’d already spun would be. But she was right. There was no way I could convince the party to leave now.
Shaar would be back to test us again.
So maybe having the king’s soldiers to help wouldn’t be all doom and gloom, after all.