Atticus
“What news from Bellcross?”
Boaz offers a curt headshake. “Nothing yet.”
“Nothing short of treason, Your Highness.” Adley picks at a loose thread on his silk jacket. “My contacts put the traitors in the city three weeks ago. That is plenty of time for Lord Rengard to send a message.”
My teeth grind as I pace around the war room table.
Adley’s contacts.
I’m fucking tired of hearing about Adley’s contacts.
But not as tired as I am of hearing Adley.
I knew Zander would go to Theon and that Theon would help rather than betray him. But now what? The Lord of Bellcross is beloved in the west. Punish him and my enemies will reproduce like rabbits overnight.
I make a point of putting my back to Adley when I ask, “And Lord Telor?”
“They are sweeping through the northern villages. Zander has come and gone with the Ybarisan traitor and her caster.”
“To what outcome? Tell me it wasn’t as bad as Freywich.” I will admit, news of that slaughter surprised me. I didn’t think Zander had it in him to murder all those keepers and make a spectacle of it.
“Worse, I fear. They killed many soldiers, beheaded the Lord of Norcaster, and pillaged their supplies. Dozens of mortals and winter stores were taken before they continued. He and that caster of Neilina’s unleashed their power on the town square.”
“Leave it to Zander to get tangled up with another caster after the last one betrayed him so thoroughly.” I study the map. “And they’re heading north? We know this?”
“It is what we’ve heard and what makes sense. She will be looking for her Ybarisan army, if she hasn’t already found them.”
I can’t imagine what good Romeria thinks a few hundred or her soldiers will be against thousands of mine. Then again, they’re gifted in ways mine are not, and their elven affinities may prove dangerous.
“It is only a matter of time before we find them. They cannot go anywhere. They will be trapped.”
I study the map on the table. “Which is why this move makes little sense. Zander’s not stupid.” Though he is desperate, and more familiar with Venhorn’s caves than any of us.
“The exiled king turned on his crown and his realm for that treacherous spider,” Boaz says gruffly. “How he lost his way so utterly, I cannot fathom.”
I can. I escorted that same treacherous spider south from the rift, her charm weaving an alluring spell that so utterly blinded me, I would have done anything she asked of me by the time we reached Cirilea.
I’m not proud of what I coveted.
I’m even less proud of what I took.
But my brother is still caught in her web, with no hope of extricating himself, which is why I had to save him from himself the day of the tournament.
“Might I suggest, it would be a valiant campaign for you as the new king to ride to Venhorn with a contingent and face off against him?” Adley says. “After the wedding, of course.”
“Oh, of course.” I feign a frown. After next week’s wedding, so Saoirse is firmly entrenched on the throne should something untoward happen to me.
To Boaz, I ask, “And what of the poison?”
“Reports continue to come in daily. Too many to read, Your Highness. It is spreading.”
And I do not know how to stop it.
A knock sounds at the door.
“Come in,” I bark, welcoming the interruption.