Page 125 of Faeling
Ever efficient, Eydis had laid out the evidence before him. Allowing Vallek to render an equally efficient verdict.
Pulling a small sack from his pocket, Vallek strode to where Byrk knelt.
“You would betray your oaths, your honor, for a few fae coins?” Lifting the sack, he upended its contents onto the ground. A dozen silver coinsclinkedonto the floor. “Are you really so cheap?”
Byrk’s nostrils flared. “It’s nothing personal, my king. A man has to make a living.”
Vallek slashed his tusks through the air. His men were generously paid, and what was more, enjoyed the highest reputation within Balmirra.
A reputation now tarnished by one orc.
The flippant excuse didn’t ring true, but honestly, the realreason for his betrayal didn’t matter.
Hormhím nearly vibrated in his hand, thirsty for blood.
“You are a traitor to your kind and your king. The only sentence to give you is death.”
The guards braced themselves as Vallek closed the distance.
He’d heard that humans preferred beheadings for their executions, but orcs found this far too messy and imprecise. Deaths in one blow were honorable, and if a chieftain was to sentence death, it was he who would carry it out. It was a mark of honor, of strength.
Hefting Hormhím onto his shoulder, Vallek waited for Byrk to bow his head. Most did.
However, the disgraced warrior kept Vallek’s gaze, defying him one last time.
If Byrk thought this would unnerve or sway Vallek, he was sorely mistaken. His swift, honorable death was for the benefit of Ravenna. Had Vallek gotten his way, Byrk’s death would have been slow, agonizing, his blood painting the wall of the citadel for a fortnight.
Cold rage coiled round his heart, Vallek smirked down at the traitor, relishing when fear passed over his eyes.
I am Vallek Far-Sight, king of kin, mate of Ravenna. And today, I am your death.
In one heavy blow, Vallek brought Hormhím down in a wide arc. The blade caught Byrk’s face, splitting his head in two.
It took only a blink, a moment, and the traitor was dead, his blood and brains soaking the basilica floor.
The corpse slumped forward, lifelessly crumpling into a heap.
When Vallek pulled Hormhím back from the traitor’s head, blood and viscera streamed down the blade. Running the flat ofthe axehead on his palm, he smeared the blood across his hand, raising it for all to see.
“So is the fate of any who would betray their kind and their king!” he roared. “We are one kin, one kind, and we are stronger together. His treachery isn’t just against me but us all.”
The court looked on with wide eyes, only a brave few daring to look at the pitiful sight of Byrk. An array of expressions met his declaration, from grim understanding to nervous respect to poorly disguised disgust. He could handle them all—he would convince those who doubted.
What he wouldn’t stand, though, was betrayal.
That thought stuck starkly in his mind, even as his blood ran hot from the violence.
It clanged like a solitary bell in his mind when a reckless fool stepped forward and said—
“So we aren’t to speak to the fae, but it’s all right to fuck them?”
The basilica went utterly, preternaturally quiet.
Vallek slowly turned on his heel to face the accusation.
Grogar met his cold stare with an impetuous false bravado. Looking down his nose at Vallek, the stupid young paladin took another step forward. “How can you say we’re one kin when the whore beside you has no orcish blood at all?”
The fool was goading him. Vallek knew it. The court knew it.
