Kingslayer (3 page)

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Authors: Honor Raconteur

Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #military adventure

BOOK: Kingslayer
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The door, to his complete surprise, closed behind her. He didn’t care how many soldiers were outside, putting her inside without any means of defense was stupid. He could snap her neck or take her hostage within seconds and no one in the hallway would be able to react quickly enough to stop him. And yet, this woman was not stupid. She had held out against the Brindisi Sovran for eight straight years without the proper amount of troops or reserves. That took more than courage—it took considerable intelligence.

So why do something so senseless?

“Your Most High Majesty, I think I and your guards would feel better if that door stayed open,” he stated as neutrally as he could.

Her eyebrows quirked in an amused slant. “No doubt. But I do not wish this conversation to be overheard.”

Meaning…whatever she was about to say needed to stay confidential? Why?

“I have given you two days to think.” She gave every sign of being at ease. In fact, her manner would not have been out of place at a state dinner. “I have also taken this time to think. I realize now that it was folly to demand answers from a veteran general. You are used to keeping secrets from your enemies, are you not?” she smiled to show that this did not upset her. “And we have certainly been enemies. But if I were to make a place for you here, in Niotan, so that you may live, would that not make you my ally?”

So she really did think that she could do that? “How, Your Most High Majesty? As an eternal prisoner? I’d rather face the gallows.”

Her eyes crinkled up in a true smile. “Yes, I wager you would. No, you would be a full citizen here. I would have your military advice on hand. I fear that without it, we will not be able to fend off Brindisi’s advance.”

Even with his help, that was probably not possible. At least, not forever.

“But I cannot offer this until I know why you killed that foolish king.” Her voice was soft, coaxing, as if speaking to a wounded animal. “Will you not tell me?”

The opportunity in front of him could not be easily ignored. Baros had ordered him to live, but very few people would allow him that luxury when they discovered his true identity. This left him with few options. But this woman—he knew her well enough to gauge her sincerity. He had been fighting against her and her generals long enough to see what kind of monarch she was. Her loyalty to Niotan could not be questioned. Her love for the people had the fierceness that every ruler should possess. Darius admired her for those qualities alone.

Could he trust her? He just didn’t know. But at the same time, she had a good point. She could not trust him either until she understood why he had done what he had. And his only bargaining point at the moment was this offer. If he ignored her outright, he’d likely not get another.

So he blew out a resigned breath and faced her directly, shoulders straight, chin firm, and gave her the succinct version. “Did you know, Your Most High Majesty, that I am actually Arapeen?”

She blinked at this apparently random question. “I did not.”

He nodded, unsurprised. “When I rose to the rank of general, King Farhan brought me to him so that I could swear oath to him personally. I gave him the traditional oath of loyalty from Arape. Are you familiar with it?”

Her face had become like a marble statue, expressionless. “It has been some time since I learned of it. Refresh my memory.”

Darius kept his tone flat and level, staring at the floor, as he recited, “I offer you this: my strength until it has failed me, my courage until it is gone, my wits until they have faded, and my loyalty until you release me.” He lifted his head and locked his eyes with hers. “As long as you protect the people of Brindisi, I will do the same. You have my word.”

“The consequence of breaking an oath for an Arapeen is death, is it not?” The tone made it a statement rather than a question.

He answered it regardless. “It is.”

Her eyes closed in fatalistic understanding. “I see. Considering the events of last year, I certainly see why you would be forced to kill him. Farhan did more than just break an oath—he disregarded it completely.” She looked at him again, with a thousand other questions in her eyes, but she clearly realized that she wouldn’t get any more answers from him today. In fact, she had been blessed to get the answer she had. “General, I wish for you to consider being a military advisor on my council of generals. You will be granted full citizenship as well, of course. This is the very least that I want to offer you. Will you consider it?”

“Brindisi will hound you once they discover that you are sheltering me,” he observed dispassionately.

“They are already hounding me,” she pointed out in amusement. “Will you consider it?”

He inclined his head in agreement.

“Good. Until tomorrow, then.”

 

 

Queen Tresea was good to her word. She came again the next day, almost before his breakfast dishes could be collected. Once again, the door shut behind her. Darius gave the closed door a weary look but decided not to debate the matter this time.

He expected her to ask about his offer, but she said instead, “What do you want, Kingslayer?”

Darius regarded her blankly, forehead gathered in a frown of bemusement. “Want? Forgive me, but a prisoner such as myself is in no position to make demands. Rather, it is I who should be asking
you
such a question.”

She shook her head and smiled at him as if she were speaking to a child. “Forget your present status. If you could have anything, do anything, what would it be?”

He recognized the question for what it was. She was probing him, trying to find what motivated him. What he couldn’t understand was for what purpose. As her prisoner, she could order him to do anything and he would have very little room to disobey. Well, without losing his head in the process. But even though she wore that patient, enigmatic smile, he saw in her eyes that the question had been asked in all seriousness.

So he gave a serious answer. “I would stop Prince—now King—Baros if I could.”

Whatever answer she had expected from him, that was not it. Her eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Stop him? From doing what?”

“Driving the Sovran into ruin,” he sighed.

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand.”

“No, you probably can’t see the signs yet.” His eyes went blind to his immediate surroundings and even though the queen stood directly in front of him, he did not truly see her. “I doubt anyone can, outside of the Sovran. But inside, I could see the future path of it quite clearly. Brindisi is overextended. The Sovran just doesn’t have the resources, the manpower, to keep going as it has been. Even with the resources and troops that we’ve taken from the conquered lands, it’s not enough.”

She had that unfathomable look in her eyes again. “Do you not have any more selfish goals? Even now you are worried about that Sovran more than yourself. If you did not want to live, to find a life of peace, why have you been running so hard for the past year?”

He shook his head, a weary smile on his face. He had run because he had been ordered to live. After fifteen years of following orders, he had obeyed this last command out of sheer force of habit. “Your Most High Majesty, do you know why I fought for Brindisi? It was not for the sake of the Sovran, I assure you. I did it to protect Arape. My home country is a part of that Sovran, after all.” Although now he was absolutely sure that Arape would actually do better if they governed themselves again.

She took two steps forward, locking her eyes with his. “Brindisi is the greatest Sovran of this age.”

“Yes,” he agreed instantly. “But it won’t last much longer. I give it another twenty years before it starts to unravel at the seams. The decisions that King Baros has been making recently is only hastening that process.” He left it at that. 

She listened to his words patiently, without expression, until he stopped speaking entirely. “I see. So, you wish to stop him. How would you do it?”

“Not by killing him,” he answered dryly. He half-suspected she had that notion in her mind somewhere. “Then the problem would be passed down to some other man. It would never end. In truth, I am at a loss. I taught that boy everything I knew for five years about warfare, and I spoke to him many times about my concerns for Brindisi. He still insists on following his father’s footsteps. I don’t know that my words could reach him now.”

“I see. Then perhaps action is in order?” That mischievous light in her eyes sparkled brightly and her lips curved up.

He watched her cautiously. He’d seen that look before on a woman’s face—trouble inevitably followed. “Perhaps it is time to reverse this question, Your Most High Majesty. What do
you
want?”

“I want you.”

He blinked at her quite stupidly for a moment. “As your military advisor?”

“I want
you
,” she repeated emphatically with a finger planted against his chest, “as my lead general.”

“That’s—” he clicked his mouth shut before he instinctively said something that would get him beheaded right there. Why had the offer changed? Swallowing, he rephrased, “That’s the act of a desperate ruler.”

“I am desperate,” she admitted frankly. “And it’s
your
fault that I’ve been driven to this. Your victories over my armies decimated any hope I have of driving Brindisi away from my borders. The only thing that has saved me this past year from falling entirely is the disarray Brindisi fell into after the king’s death and the loss of you. I do not expect this reprieve to last long.”

No, it wouldn’t. In fact, he’d be surprised if it lasted another three months.

Still…him? As lead general for a former enemy? Would that even work? He stepped away from her so that he could pace the narrow confines of the room. After fighting against her forces for so long, he knew good and well their strengths and weaknesses. He could probably draw her up a list right here of what her generals needed to do.

He didn’t doubt her sincerity, not for a moment. He really
had
driven her into a corner. In fact, before he had been yanked away from her borders and ordered north, he’d estimated it would have taken only another two or three months before Niotan was conquered. Right now that would no longer be true, as she’d had a year to recoup some losses and draw in resources. Still, Niotan could only withstand so much more before it would fall.

Could he save this country? No, that wasn’t really the question.

Should he even try?

He stopped abruptly, head falling back so that he could blindly stare at a corner of the ceiling. For some reason, his heart was pounding, blood starting to quicken as if he were gearing up for battle. Ridiculous. He shouldn’t even be considering this. Fighting
against
the Brindisi Sovran, the Sovran he served faithfully for the past decade and a half…it was madness.

In the back of his mind, a small voice whispered
, If Niotan, a small and remote country, defeated Brindisi’s armies and kept its independence, then the momentum of Brindisi’s conquering will falter. That might be all that’s needed for Brindisi to lose the grip they have on the world. If just one country can stand up to them, then others will surely try to rebel…some might even succeed…

Such a risky gamble. And yet, some reckless part of him yearned to try. He snorted at his own wayward thoughts.
At this point, what do I have to lose?

Darius turned to the queen that was so patiently waiting for his answer. He tried not to smile, truly, but it slipped out in a feral baring of teeth. “I’ll need someone assigned to me, someone that is above reproach, otherwise no one is going to heed what I tell them.”

Her eyes flared wide and a matching, ferocious smile spread over her face. “I have just the man. What else?”

“I can write a list right now of the weaknesses of your armies. We can start this very moment in correcting at least some of them. But I need specific details of your supplies, training, weapons, and resources in order to make any plans.”

“You’ll have it by tomorrow morning,” she promised him. “What else?”

Here he had to think for a moment. “There are three commanders in your country that are exceptionally talented. With those three working under me, I think we stand a chance.”

“Tell me their names and I’ll see to it.” With a deep breath, she seemed to gain hold of herself. “You really think we can win?”

“No, My Queen,” he corrected firmly. “I
know
we can.”

~~~

Queen Tresea was not a woman to dawdle. Once she had a clear goal in mind, she
moved
. In the next three hours, Darius found himself hauled in front of the queen’s personal tailor—a bald man named Nibbets who seemed skilled, if nervous—where an “appropriate” outfit was hastily thrown together. Darius had been around the court often enough to know that appearance mattered. This sudden demand for the very best clothing didn’t surprise him in the least.

The tailor even had pity on him and made the dress clothes out of a very light material. The white pants and white shirt were the same slightly baggy style that he had worn previously, but over them an amethyst blue coat was tailored to fit him exactly. It didn’t have the short waist to it that Brindisi’s would have, but flared out to somewhere just below knee level, split in the front and back to make it easy to move. Any sort of coat in this heat just seemed sweltering, but when Darius put it on, he found that it didn’t suffocate him like he thought it would. The light cotton breathed and didn’t retain heat.

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