24. Zarek
Zarek
WE HAVE AN ARMY
The only thing I’ve ever heard about Prince Laurance of Ethiria is that he’s an idiot. And, after several hours with the man, I have to say that assessment isn’t exactly fair.
Idiot doesn’t begin to cover it.
When Elrick explained what happened to the Kingdom of Marion, Laurance laughed. Actually laughed. Like the death of Elrick’s father was a joke. And when Elrick suggested that Vsenrog could come for Ethiria next, Laurance waved it away.
“They wouldn’t dare,” Laurance said. “We have an army.”
I very much doubt the Kingdom of Ethiria was able to raise an army without Malrik discovering its existence, and I almost opened my mouth to ask Laurance what in the nine hells he thinks the word army means. But I kept my mouth shut and my lips curled into a smile.
When Elrick explained the pretense for the war, the lie that Lilias ran from me and into Laurance’s arms, Laurance looked at Lilias with a gleam in his pale eyes that made me want to punch him.
Coming here was a mistake.
I’m certain of it now. They’re hiding something in this palace, and they’re doing it badly.
Those hastily closed doors we walked past, the fact that they’ve put us in a second-tier reception room, and the gleam in Laurance’s eyes whenever Elrick tries to shift the conversation to something of substance, all makes me think we’re not the first visitors to arrive in Ethiria.
No, someone else got here first. And, whoever they are, I think they’re still here. Someone more important than the shattered remains of Marion. Someone Prince Laurance doesn’t want us to notice.
We need to cut our losses and get the fuck out of here.
But that’s not my choice to make. So I stay quiet and smile as Prince Laurance gives us an insufferably long and probably entirely fictitious history of his family and kingdom.
By the time we finally sit down to dinner, the sun has already set into the dark, silent sea beyond the gentle green hills.
“And we’ll have to get you out on a tour tomorrow,” Laurance drones, as the servants clean up the plates. “You should see the cliffs! They’re spectacular, totally defensible. No one would dare attack Ethiria from the sea, I can promise you that, Prince Elrick.”
Laurance punches Elrick in the arm, then drains his glass of wine. Elrick smiles politely. I have to admit, my estimation of Lilias’s brother has gone up slightly today. The sheer force of will it must take to keep from punching that stupid son of a bitch is damned impressive.
“The attack won’t come from the sea,” the guard named Gerard growls from the seat next to me.
I grit my teeth. Gerard is right. The attack will come from the mountains, past the Dragon Mine where Syvan’s army drugged me and handed me over to Fyrris. I glance down at my hands and try to swallow the bitterness rising in the back of my throat.
I still can’t bring myself to call it magic, whatever it was that the man in white robes used to pull something horrible out of that mountain. And the gods only know why he needed me. I had to make the king of Vsenrog invested, Fyrris said.
But it was more than that, gods help me.
I shiver as the memory rises through the misty layers of things I’d much rather forget.
I was standing in Malrik’s chambers as the tailor fitted me for the outfits I’d wear on our sham of a unity tour.
Malrik entered, with the strange man in his white robes.
My skin crawled and my gut pulled tight.
Such potential, the man in white said as he examined me like I was a side of meat in the marketplace.
I shake my head, trying to shove down the flood of memories. Magic belongs to elves and dragons, damn it, and there’s nothing special about me. Nothing magical. The sooner I forget what that bastard did to me beneath the mountain’s roots, the better.
We took a longer route over the mountains, specifically to avoid the Dragon Mine on this trip to Ethiria. It was Elrick’s suggestion, and I was only too happy to agree. If I never see that place again, it’ll be too soon.
But if Malrik’s army were to take the road past the mine, and if they traveled light, they could be at Ethiria’s doorstep in a matter of days. Hells, they might already be on that road for all we know.
“That would be lovely,” Elrick says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Your defenses are fascinating. I’m especially interested in your army.”
Army. Right. Laurance keeps saying he has one, but we saw no barracks, no supply lines, and no evidence of an armory. Whatever Laurance is playing at, it’s not warfare.
Laurance laughs like Elrick’s suggestion is a joke. “As if I’d share all my secrets with you!” he replies. “But I can tell you, they are impressive. I designed the uniforms myself. I’ve got quite a talent for that, everyone says so.”
I drain my wine glass. If I have to listen to much more of this, I’m going to murder the prince of Ethiria myself and save Malrik’s army the trouble. Finally, Laurance pushes back from the table.
“You,” he says, pointing to Elrick. “Come with me. We can continue our discussions with a little more privacy.”
That horrible whisper of intuition pulls tight against the back of my neck. Leaving with the prince of Ethiria seems like a terrible idea. But, hells, it’s not like Elrick is going to take advice from me. So I grit my teeth as Elrick follows Laurance out of the room.
Something is wrong here, deeply wrong, and I think it goes beyond this fool of a prince.
I need to get out of here, to talk to people in the castle.
I glance at the doors, but there are people waiting at every one, servants and guards, all with their eyes on us, hard and heavy.
Watching the snake of Vsenrog and his bride, the woman who started the war.
Shit. A serving woman clears the last of the wine glasses, and another woman follows her, bowing before us.
“If you’ll follow me,” she says, “I’ll show you to your room.”
It sounds less like a polite invitation and more like a command. Lilias comes to her feet. I turn to Gerard, who’s scowling in the seat next to me. The man hates me, but it’s not like I have any other option.
“Gerard,” I whisper.
Gerard looks at me like he’s trying to determine the best place to sink a knife into my body.
“The stables,” I say, under my breath. “See how many horses are missing. See if there are any others who’ve just arrived.”
“Fuck you,” Gerard replies.
I come to my feet, smiling politely. It was worth a shot, I guess.
I grab a bottle of wine off the sideboard as I leave the room. No one even tries to stop me.