Chapter 12 Pivot
~ DONAVYN ~
“What do you mean, there is no need?” Alexi snapped half an hour later as I stood, pleading my case in his bedchamber. “I’ve already sent up the signal. The Conclave will gather at dawn. I called you here to prepare.”
Internally, I winced, but I didn’t let him see it. “Sire, we have a dragon near-death. He was bonded to one of the men we sent to Draeventhall, but he’s returned alone.”
Both Alexi and Diaan went still. They knew enough to know that wasn’t good.
I took a deep breath. “It appears that the men we sent to Draeventhall were not the men we measured them to be.”
Alexi frowned. “What are you saying? Don’t mince words, Donavyn.”
“Sire, I’ve heard of the dragon’s curse, but I’ve never seen it employed before. Yet, we stand here with a dragon in the Keep who may yet lose his life because he killed his own rider.”
“What?!” Diaan gasped.
Alexi’s gaze grew intent. “Why the hell would a dragon kill its own rider?”
“Because he learned something so awful about that rider, he believed the only way to maintain his own honor was to be the one to declare judgment. And his judgment was that the man deserved death for his crimes.”
“I thought you and your dragons were in each other’s minds.”
“Yes, we are. But we can obscure things from each other if we choose. It takes a great deal of energy and discipline to do so for long periods of time, but it can be done.”
Alexi leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. “You’re telling me, these dragons could choose to kill any of you at any time? Because they learn something they don’t like?”
“For a dragon to take this action, the offense must be horrendous. This dragon is near death because that is the consequence of destroying his bonded human. He knew that before he called judgment.”
“So, what was it?”
“Kgosi is working on that—the dragon is unwell, foggy, and reluctant to talk about exactly what occurred. Killing his rider has stolen something from him, but—”
“Why did you call Conclave if you didn’t have the information?”
I took a deep breath. “We don’t know all the details. But we know enough: This man—likely this entire squad—have betrayed our code of honor.”
Alexi’s face was ashen. “Have the dragons killed all of them?”
“No. At least, we don’t know. The dragon’s report is unclear, except that the entire squad has been disrupted.
And he called judgment on his own rider.
Sire, I’m reporting to you with what we have: Those men that we trusted with our deepest secrets, and most crucial purpose, betrayed their dragons.
If they have the control and desire to do that with the ones most intimate and protective of them, then what else might they betray?
That fact was enough to call Conclave, because I believed we needed to haul them back to the Keep for interrogation, which would have been an extremely difficult undertaking without revealing their alliance with us to Draeventhall.
But, Kgosi believes they’re all already dead.
Or will be. We will keep working on it until we understand every detail, but for the moment, there’s no longer a need for Conclave.
It’s too late. The worst has happened. I didn’t know that when I sent the messenger for you, Sire.
I believed the other men remained free.”
Alexi rubbed his stubbled jaw and looked at his wife. Diaan might be a cunning bitch when she pursued her own pleasure, but she was a sharp strategist, and knew when personal things must be put aside for the good of the kingdom.
And now they both knew that we were in deep, deep shit.
If Draeventhall had discovered our men and knew where they were from, war was nearly inevitable.
“Our only hope is that whatever conflict revealed the truth about this man to his dragon, it was unassociated with their mission,” I said grimly.
“What are the fucking chances, Donavyn?” Alexi growled. “A squad of spies, all killed—but it has nothing to do with their mission? Of course they’ve been discovered. It’s the only conclusion that makes sense.”
I had to bite back the words that there was every chance these men had committed an offense that brought them under fire without revealing their true purpose. But my only evidence for that was Bren’s story, and she’d begged me not to reveal it to others.
“They are young men in a foreign land,” I said flatly. “There’s as much chance—perhaps more—that they were caught in a tavern brawl.”
“A fucking thin thread on which to hang the hopes of a nation,” Alexi cursed.
“And yet… when did this happen?” Diaan asked suddenly.
“I’m not certain yet, but Kgosi believes it was mere days ago. The dragon killed his rider then travelled home. An unencumbered dragon could fly that stretch in well under a week. But he’s extremely weak, so it may be that his journey was longer.”
Alexi frowned harder. “I do not like all this uncertainty, Donavyn.”
“Neither do I, Sire. But I also don’t believe we should move without further information.”
Alexi nodded reluctantly. “You keep Kgosi on this—we need to know what that dragon knows.”
“I will,” I said through my teeth, wincing at his lack of compassion for the poor beast who’d been through so much he was literally falling apart. “But—”
“If our men have been uncovered and were harmed as a result, we’ll soon have word from Draeventhall, raising the accusations,” he continued.
“I believe so,” I agreed. “Though it is possible that even if they were suspected, their homeland wasn’t uncovered. They carried nothing that would identify them as Vosgaardians.”
The king muttered another curse, then leveled a firm gaze at me. “This increases our urgency for getting into Fyrehold.”
I went still. “What? Sire, until we know for certain, I am needed here to—”
“If Draeventhall wants to cast aspersion and gather allies against us, Fyrehold is the first place they’ll look.”
“But they may not even know where the men were from. It’s entirely possible the men were attacked because they were uncovered as spies. They are trained to withhold their loyalties—”
“Regardless, there are plots afoot, and multiple nations moving. We must be in a position to thwart these schemes, Donavyn. If Draeventhall’s king suspects us, we must galvanize the alliance with Fyrehold before any rumors can begin—or Ashthorn finds way to make use of this mess.”
“And if Fyrehold is behind it? We’d be walking into the beast’s lair—”
“You will find that out for me. This was your plan, Donavyn, and I agree, it’s a good one. Now, it’s time to put it into action. We must get you on the ground in Fyrehold before Draeventhall can begin to twist their minds.”
I tried to argue, but I knew his logic was sound, and my mind was clouded with questions for Ciar, and with the ache for Bren.
I thought she’d forgiven me for hiding my knowledge of Ruin from her.
But even at this distance, and with the bond blurry, I could sense the weight on her chest. The specters haunting her that this dragon’s appearance had resurrected.
She and I needed time and safety to heal. We needed to be here.
But those reasons were entirely personal. They held no water in the face of war.
“…No, Donavyn. Never forget, the most likely conclusion is usually the right one. Either our spies were ousted from Draeventhall, and we will soon face accusations and war, or—even if they don’t know it was us—Draeventhall’s guard is up.
They’ll be cautious with everyone. We’ve lost a critical source of information and insight.
We must make the most of others. Our best hope is to ingratiate ourselves with Fyrehold and through them, learn second hand what’s occurring in Draeventhall.
Or, uncover whatever plot the two are cooking together. ”
Alexi had discarded his usual pomp and bluster entirely. He stood before me, a leader and a King, resolute—and fully aware of what we likely walked toward. How it would cost our nation, and possibly us as leaders.
Our eyes locked and every plan and strategy we’d built to deal with precisely this kind of disaster came rushing back to me.
He was right.
Dammit.
Bren and I had to go to Fyrehold. And soon.