Page 119 of King's Warrior

The magistrate read more charges, from thievery to spying to murder. Many had a hand in the missing and dead soldiers. Niam’s conscience cleared. These nobles, if proven guilty, had earned their fates. What would they have done to his innocent sons?

When the magistrate ended his speech, Niam stood. “I know you weren’t the ones to form the original plan. Your leader will now join you.”

The doors opened, and four guards entered, a bedraggled Whreyn between them, bringing him before the throne and forcing him to kneel with hands behind his head.

Whreyn glared at Niam. “This isn’t over.”

“It is for you and all your guilty cohorts in this room. Others are being arrested. By spring, your attempted coup will be but a memory, your name spoken in hushed whispers.”

“My family is powerful! They’ll—”

Niam threw up a hand to stop the tirade. “Your family members are now commoners, with no lands or titles, for we found them complicit in your schemes. You know the penalty for treason. Forfeiture of lands, titles, and your life.”

“Why you…” in a blur nearly too fast to follow, Whreyn launched himself off the floor, grabbed a soldier’s sword, and lunged for Niam.

And equally quickly, Niam grabbed the dagger from his side sheath, flinging it on instinct alone. The blade struck Whreyn’s shoulder. He toppled backward, dropping the sword and falling into the arms of the guards.

He couldn’t be nearly as surprised as Niam. Had he actually struck true? Granted, he’d thrown on instinct, making a lucky strike. The blood pounded in Niam’s ears. He wasn’t a warrior. He would never be a warrior, but he could defend himself.

Thanks to Lady Exa’s advice and Mother’s teachings. The guards hauled a screeching Whreyn from the room.

A few of the condemned nobles sobbed openly. Pity formed in Niam’s heart. He pushed away any sympathy. These traitors would have killed him and his family for greed.

He approached the kneeling mass of humanity, calmly walking through their ranks, studying each face on his way to the door. They all looked at him now. He’d surprise them if they thought him too weak to do what he must. With all the authority taught by his father, Niam declared, “Those found guilty of backing Whreyn have sealed your fate. However, I refuse to make a public spectacle of justice. The last thing we need is such a display. We have defeated the Craicians. Their king will not show you kindness for your failure if you escape.”

A few of the nobles winced. They’d all heard tales of brutal Craicians. Niam opened the door, nodded to Casseign, and stood back. Casseign entered with a squad of soldiers hailing from three kingdoms, while the late arriving Cormirans filled the barracks. Some present sported noticeable injuries.

Mother said Rufe sustained only minor injuries. Duty could be inconvenient when all Niam wanted to do was find his consort and see to Rufe’s wellbeing in person.

“Captain Casseign.” Niam raised his voice to be heard over the sobbing, pleading, and cursing. “I charge you to ensure justice for those who confessed and to detain the others until their trial. Be discreet, but ensure the proper witnesses to prevent something like this from ever happening again.”

Casseign crossed an arm over his chest. “It shall be done, Your Majesty.”

Niam left the great hall, head held high, hiding all the turmoil in his soul.

Niam stormed into his mother’s sitting room. “Mother! Have you heard anymore of—”

Rufe sat in a chair with a cup of tea in one hand. Mother held his other hand from the next chair—a hand with a heavily bandaged wrist.

“Rufe! You’re hurt!”

Rufe gave Niam a tired smile. He placed his teacup on a side table and extended his uninjured hand to Niam. “It’s a scratch! I mean… It’s nothing. You should see the man who nicked me, assuming he’s stopped falling yet. I’m told that sinkhole was pretty deep.”

Niam darted across the room, yanking Rufe from the chair and into a hug. Rufe grunted but didn’t sound pained, so Niam didn’t let go. “Never scare me so again.”

“I can’t promise. But I can promise to be careful,” Rufe mumbled into Niam’s hair.

Niam pulled back, tears stinging his eyes. “I saw Casseign, but how are Draylon and Vihaan?”

“Lazing in the hot springs, last I saw, after we rounded up the last of the suspected traitors. You might never get Vihaan out of there. Though the springs were wonderful, I needed to get back to you.” Rufe sank back into his chair, moving slowly. Shadows underlined his eyes.

Niam pulled a chair closer and sat, still clinging to Rufe’s hand. “I received a formal report, but tell me what happened in your own words.” Rufe. Here. Now. The weight of the past few days lifted from Niam’s shoulders.

“You were right in telling me foreign soldiers are at a disadvantage in the mountains. I think Delletina herself claimed more enemies than our entire fighting force.”

“There’s something else,” Mother interjected with a smug smile for Niam. “Rufe has always been ashamed of the mark he wore upon his skin, that many would see as dishonor. He now bears another mark, one to negate the first.”

“What?” Niam jumped from his chair. “How? Explain!”

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