24. Broken Bonds
Broken Bonds
L endr Jedvard sat across from me in the Council Chamber, finishing up his report from the pre-dawn attack.
The loss of civilian life was staggering, and the loss of our warriors was even higher, adding to the despair that had refused to abate all morning and into the afternoon.
Based on the reports from the other Lendr, the casualties bordered on one-thousand.
There was no way to know how many myrkva had attacked, but it was likely over a hundred.
The largest attack any of us had ever seen.
“How did this happen, Jedvard?” I asked, trying to maintain my composure. Lenn stood silently behind me, but there was still no warmth to be had from him.
The Lendr was a hearty-looking man of about forty, with ruddy cheeks and dull copper hair.
He’d always seemed a stalwart fellow, but he trembled in his seat now.
His white surcoat—the golden hare of Clan Riis stitched above the breast—was caked with grime and dried blood, its hem tattered.
And a haunted look lingered in his light blue eyes, an echo of the horrors he’d seen.
“I was patrolling the wall, Your Majesty,” he answered, voice scratchy and frail. “They came out of nowhere. There was a… a strong wind, and th-then… They were everywhere, c-clawing at the outer wall. We raised the alarm immediately.”
I prickled slightly, remembering that Lenn elected not to alert me as soon as he heard the alarm. “And what of the torches? Why were they extinguished?”
“It w-was the wind, Queen Asvoria. It must’ve come with the creatures.”
“The wind…” It was an effort to keep from tapping my fingers on the table.
Wind was nothing particularly new here on the tundra, which is why there were reserves of accelerant within the torches to keep them burning through even the harshest storms.
“This was no ordinary wind, I swear it,” he explained hastily. “It was a gale, like the headwind of a sea storm. Nothing I have ever experienced here, Your Majesty.”
The Stitchers of Clan Riis were devoted to truth above all else. Even though their talents lay in casting illusions, they dedicated themselves to using them in pursuit of protection and honesty. And there was no lie in Jedvard’s eyes.
“Very well,” I conceded. “But what of the gate?” The image of the twisted, smoking ruins was branded in my memory.
“I cannot say, Your Majesty. We were so distracted by the torches, none of us saw where the blast came from.”
So it was some kind of explosion. That didn’t make any sense.
The myrkva were creatures of death and darkness, not fire and destruction.
My mother’s warning echoed in my mind, but I had no idea which of the Jarlum could have orchestrated such an attack or had access to explosive powder. And with help from myrkva, no less.
The Shadow kept quiet, lying dormant. My mouth twisted in annoyance as I looked back at the man across from me.
“Thank you, Lendr Jedvard, that will be all.” There was nothing more he could say to shed light on the situation. I would have to conduct my own research if I wanted the answers.
He nodded, rising from his chair on shaky legs and hurrying from the Council Chamber, tapping his chest as he went.
The glamour he’d conjured to protect the privacy of the room melted away into hollow silence.
Lenn shifted behind me, turning to gaze pensively out the huge wall of windows behind us into the riding paddock below.
With only a little hesitation, I joined him. “Any word from the Jarlum about a conclave?” I asked, attempting to thaw the ice.
“There’s not going to be one,” he answered shortly, keeping his gaze averted.
“What? Why?” My surprise overshadowed any remaining tension.
“Because Reynar is gone.” Lenn finally turned to look at me, his gaze hard as stone. “He left this morning.”
“This morning?” I questioned cautiously. “After the attack?”
The shift in his countenance sent a spike of fear through my heart. “Well before.”
I took a moment to absorb his words, quickly sorting through the possibilities and implications. “I knew he’d planned to leave for Weymar today,” I told him. “But to leave in the middle of the night... ”
He cast a long, withering glance at the door as it swung open on a lengthy creak. “Keep your suspicions close to the vest,” Lenn mumbled.
I followed his gaze, dread sweeping over me when I saw who entered the Council Chamber.
“Freya Vilke,” I breathed, moving back to the table.
“Might I have a word with Your Majesty,” she said sharply, casting her stern gaze on Lenn. “In private, if you’ll allow it.”
I knew this meeting couldn’t be avoided, but I had at least expected her to wait for me to approach her .
And I was suddenly reminded of the unrest Lenn mentioned in the early days of my mother’s reign.
It echoed here now, in the way Vilke squared her stance and clasped her hands behind her back like she was preparing for battle.
My gaze slid over to Lenn and found no traces of his earlier frostiness.
His eyes shone with concern, but I gave him a subtle nod.
This was something I had to deal with on my own, no matter how much the thought terrified me.
I turned back to the Jarla of Clan ?asgrin and willed as much steel into my spine as I could manage.
Lenn strode from the room, giving Vilke a pointed stare before closing the door behind him. The thud echoed hollowly, filling the open space and booming in my chest. No turning back now.
“Please,” I began, motioning to the table, “won’t you sit?”
She cast a quick glance at the chair to her right before swooping into it, reminding me of some bird of prey. I sank slowly into my own chair, gathering my dark skirts about my legs. We stared at each other for a long, tense moment. True to form, Vilke broke the silence.
“Forgive the intrusion, Your Majesty, but you can’t be at a loss as to why I’m here. This is a grave matter that requires immediate attention.”
A grave matter, indeed. I wondered if she’d come here to seek reparations for her son’s broken heart, or for her broken contract.
“Of course,” I replied, smoothing my hands in my lap. “Let me begin by assuring you that this is, in no way, a slight against yourself or your clan, Freya Vilke. Lukas and I reached a fundamental breakdown in our relationship, and I thought it best to discontinue any further attachment.”
Her mouth pressed into a thin line, dark eyes shooting daggers across the table.
“That’s all well and good,” she ground out through a clenched jaw.
“But respectfully, that is not your decision to make. Perhaps if it was only a matter of the heart, I could be more understanding. But a betrothal is a contract, Your Majesty, one that your mother and I made almost twenty years ago.”
Well, that answered that question.
“Be that as it may,” I said hotly, “I am my own person, and my mother is dead. Who else’s decision could it possibly be but my own?
” I drew in a deep breath to calm myself, suddenly aching for the Shadow’s level-headed advice.
“I am… regretful I didn’t discuss the dissolution of the betrothal with you beforehand, Vilke.
Truly, I am. But it wouldn’t have changed anything.
Lukas and I can no longer be together. Surely you can understand that? ”
I thought a measure of sympathy flashed across her face, but it disappeared quickly, and her voice was as hard as ever when she spoke.
“I’m sorry it did not work out between you two.
And I’m sorry your mother is not here to better guide you in these matters.
But our contract included more than your betrothal to Lukas. ”
An uncomfortable silence descended upon the room again. I took in her stiff posture, the deathly stillness of her face.
“What do you mean?”
Her brows drew low over her dark gaze. “It was not just a marriage contract, Your Majesty. The betrothal also guaranteed a greater allocation of resources to protect my people from the dragons in the Scrap who don’t abide by any treaties. I will not concede on that matter.”
“The protections for your people won’t be withdrawn,” I replied tersely. “Perhaps you felt it necessary in those days to offer up your son like chattel to guarantee security, but people’s lives and hearts should not be used as collateral.”
“I did not mean to imply?—”
“Yes, you did. And I will tell you plainly, Vilke, I take offense at such an implication. However things were done behind closed doors when my mother was alive, I promise you this: they won’t be done so any longer.
There will be no jockeying for position amongst the Jarlum—no undercutting other clans to gain some perceived favor.
“The four clans are equal under the eyes of our laws and will therefore continue to receive equitable treatment from the Crown. Those most in need will receive their due, I assure you.” I raised my chin with a little pride. Mother’s lessons in politicking were finally starting to click.
Vilke sat straight-backed in her chair, appraising me. After a few moments of silent judgment, she said, “Petra was right about you.”
“What do you mean?”
She glanced to the side. “You are a spitfire, like your grandmother,” she said, looking back at me.
Some of the iron in her gaze softened. “Forgive my ferocity, Your Majesty, I am… very protective of my family and my clan. I’m not so naive to think Lukas did nothing to warrant this rebuff, but I do wish you’d come to me with your concerns before breaking it off.
I’d like to believe… Well, I’d hoped , after your marriage to Lukas, you might come to think of me as a maternal presence in your life.
And now that your mother is gone, I feel it’s my duty to help guide you, as she would. ”
Vilke was a fearsome woman, with little in the way of maternal gentleness about her, but I appreciated the sentiment. “Even if I am not to marry your son,” I said, “I know I can still rely on your honest counsel, Vilke. And I will strive to do better about thinking before I react.”
She inclined her head, a strained smile crossing her lips for only a moment.
“Not a trait well-known amongst the women of House Erling, I’m afraid.
I’ll not presume to tell you what to do, Your Majesty, but I’d advise you against ruffling anymore feathers for the time being.
Tensions are running high everywhere. Perhaps it’d be best to withhold announcing the break until after the Jól feast.”
“I appreciate the sound advice… and your understanding,” I said, rising from my chair. ’ Understanding ’ may have been a bit of a stretch, but I did at least think she wouldn’t brook any further argument.
She stood as well, bowing and placing her hand over her chest. “I know I may seem cold and unfeeling, but I am not completely without a heart. Thank you for your reassurances.”
“And thank you , Vilke, for your services at the wall. I’m sure casualties would have been much greater if not for the help of Clan ?asgrin.”
She straightened back up, that same, strained smile on her face. “Anything for Volmere, Your Majesty. We must do whatever we can to defeat the enemy.”
“Of course.”
“I will leave you now. I’m sure you need to prepare for the ceremony.”
I groaned inwardly, clasping my hands at my waist. “I do indeed.”
“The prince performed admirably this morning as well,” she said, “I was quite pleased. Perhaps he’s not as treacherous as we first assumed.”
I forced a smile, pushing past my confusing mess of thoughts and emotions. “Perhaps,” I replied, “but we must remain cautious. I’ll see you this evening, Freya Vilke.” I dismissed her with a nod of my head, letting my shoulders sag when she was gone.
Why did she have to bring him up? No one, least of all the Jarlum, could know how treacherous Trygg’s presence here truly was. If any of them knew why I’d really lost control of the draugr this morning… I didn’t want to think about what might happen.