Chapter 7
Seven
It took twenty minutes to reach the base of the camp.
Only a few Morgadian soldiers were still awake.
Having shifted into their general they paid their respects while I nodded graciously and continued on towards the main tent and base of their operations.
This was where it could get risky if I ran into him or someone who had just been with him in another location.
I circled the main tent once I found it.
It was large and made of canvas, with the Morgadian royal crest emblazoned over it—a snake wrapped around a sword in gold and black.
I heard a fire crackling, the occasional rustle of paper or the slight creak of a chair.
It seemed he was alone, just as Silvio had said.
Entering the tent, he barely looked up. Assuming I was one of his men, he grunted that he had asked not to be disturbed and waved me off.
Walking through the tent, my fingers trailed the weapon racks that lined the wall until I picked up the thickest blade I could find.
Drawing the chair out from in front of his desk, I sat down across from him as I pointed the tip of the blade just underneath his chin.
At this, his eyes widened as he finally drew himself away from the papers he had been consumed by.
He stared at me in disbelief, stammering and unable to utter a sound at the shock of seeing himself when he looked up.
He drew his hands to his eyes and wiped them in an effort to rid himself of what could only be a hallucination at that point.
He probably thought he had fallen asleep at his desk and was having a nightmare.
Slowly, I allowed the heavy black smoke to seep from every pore of my skin until it pooled at my feet, and as it cleared, he was no longer staring at himself but at the Queen of Maureia.
Before he could shout or move, I pressed the tip of his sword harder against the skin of his neck, drawing a few drops of blood in the process. He was at my mercy.
‘Do you know why I’m here?’ His eyes widened as realisation struck.
‘Revenge.’ He squared his shoulders. This wasn’t just an extension of the war but a very personal act of retaliation.
It was not often that I bothered returning favours such as these myself, but this had been a step too far.
My reputation preceded me, and I saw traces of fear glimmer in his dark brown eyes.
I was merciless and sadistic in my punishments.
Recomposing himself, he straightened his back and spat at me in a display of defiance.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. I had already seen the fear in his eyes and latched onto that euphoric feeling.
Now I got to hunt down that terror until I could bring it back to the surface and make him drown in it.
A twisted, maniacal smile crossed my face as I rose and circled the table until I was behind him.
I stabbed the sword down into the chair right between his legs as one of my hidden blades made it to the inside of his neck.
A bead of sweat trailed down his temple as his breath caught in his throat.
Grabbing him around the throat with my other hand I dug my talon shaped nails deep into his skin.
Would I slice his neck open first or strangle him to death?
That was the question I saw waging war in his head—the same question I asked myself.
Desperation bleeding through, he struggled against my grip his hands pulling at my arm but I was stronger and the moment I pressed the tip of the blade deeper into the crevice of his neck he stilled.
Not wasting any time, I drew my blade back and flipped it, slamming the hilt of it into the side of his temple.
He became woozy, teetering on the edge of consciousness, but I didn’t want him unconscious for this part.
Only docile. I kicked the chair from under him as he slammed onto the floor, furthering his delirium.
I sat on his chest, pinning his arms under my knees and lifted his chin towards me.
‘I will do things to you that will make you beg for death but you’ll be unable to meet it.
I will drag this out until your body collapses and gives up on itself from the pain.
We will enjoy these last remaining hours of night together and you will bleed out as the sun rises in the morning, knowing you will never live out another day again. ’
He groaned, unable to fully comprehend everything I had said through the ringing in his mind.
With that, I opened his mouth and pulled out his tongue.
He feebly tried to struggle against me but in one quick swipe I sliced through his tongue dropping it to the floor.
He tried to scream but he couldn’t make the sounds and began to choke on his own blood as it pooled in his mouth.
Now I could do what I wanted without worrying about him calling for help or the inane sound of him begging me to stop.
I took his sword from the sheath strapped to his hip and admired the steel.
It was newly sharpened and far better than the one I had chosen that remained lodged in the chair on the ground.
This would make for light work. As he had done to my general, I did the same to him.
I cut through one arm crunching through bone.
He tried to scream but it was a gargled mess as he choked on his own blood.
The second arm was quicker to cut through as his fight left his body from the sheer enormity of the pain he was experiencing.
Tears rolled down his face as his body convulsed and shook.
I took my time with every cut, drawing out the moment.
It made me sick to know that he had done this to my general, to Bradford—a man who had sacrificed so much to stand on the front lines, to stand for me.
He was my father’s best friend. He had been like an uncle to me growing up.
I remembered that, as a child, he would carry around pieces of parchment paper to fold into little swans every time I saw him.
I didn’t deserve the love and loyalty my people gave me, but I would do what I could to make this right.
To repay the sacrifice that Bradford had made for me and my cause.
I enjoyed punishing those who deserved it, and this man did.
I didn’t know his name, and I didn’t know if he had a family, but I knew he was my enemy, and I understood his actions and their consequences.
He had permanently altered the life of one of my people, someone who was akin to family while growing up.
Bradford would never fight again or even be able to take care of himself and his family.
It was only fair that the man who now lay beneath me and was bleeding suffered a worse fate.
I didn’t want this man to bleed out and die before he could experience the extent of the pain he had inflicted.
I placed the blood-soaked blade in the firepit at the center of the tent.
The droplets of blood sizzled in the flames as the tinge of burning flesh coated the air and when it glowed red with the heat of the flames I drew it out, marvelling at its glow.
The general lay on the floor, barely aware of my presence.
But that changed the moment I pressed the hot blade against his open wounds where his arms had been.
He screamed without noise but I covered his mouth and muffled his tongueless groans for good measure until her passed out from the pain.
As he slept, I cut through the flesh and bone of his thighs and cauterized those wounds.
I would decide when I was done with him, not his body.
While I waited for him to regain consciousness, I rifled through the papers on his desk.
They were plans and strategies for the next assault on our people.
Nothing that Viv had not already predicted.
They historically played at war like children bumbling around with no real end goal in sight.
We had one, but not the resources that Morgad ever had to make a real difference in this stalemate.
If truth be told, it felt as though they had been biding their time but were about to strike the final blow in this long raging war.
I felt it in my bones. The plan had been set in motion years ago, during my mother’s reign.
It was now up to me to play catch up. One of the papers caught my eye—a map of our lands with defensive positions marked for their soldiers around our Ancient Forest. There was nothing else in all of the reports or papers that expanded on why they were interested in the forest, but I would soon find out.
I buried the papers in his desk drawer, not wanting his people to assume we had gotten to their plans and changed tactics.
Just in time for the sun to rise, he awoke, groaning at the pain that coursed through every inch of what remained of his body.
Trying to move but realising he was unable, panic flooded his features.
Gone was the smiling man from the picture.
Using my sword, I cut a hole in the roof of the tent and let the first rays of the morning sun peek through, just as I had promised.