Page 6 of The Queens and the Kings
Physical embraces.
Agnes as a friend.
Kapurnick.
He struggled to hold the strange dichotomy together as Einar’s dramatized retelling wound down. He finished with, “The vittra all but destroyed the Unseen Island in a classic explosion of self-destruction.”
Arvid regarded Henrik. “Close call.”
He forced himself to say, “Very close, Si—it was close.”
While Einar poured the coffee and Agnes reached for cream, Arvid clapped his hands together. “Let’s talk about the soldat rebellion, shall we? First, I want to thank you, Henrik.”
Henrik struggled to turn his thoughts from the strangeness of embarking into the world without a rigid mission objective, freedom’s out-of-control sensation, and onto the reality of the rebellion. Something he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted. The wordssoldat rebellionstirred up the dredges of a distant, cold, hard knot of fear.
“Thank me for what?”
“For trusting me.”
Arvid paused, giving Henrik space to respond. Did Henrik trust Arvid? Yes, mostly. He didn’t like the silence and strangeness around the rebellion. Unease must have simmered years before he left as reefer. Why hadn’t he heard the whispers?
Who started it?
Henrik said, “I want to trust you, Arvid.”
Arvid chuckled. “Glad to see that you haven’t changed, Henrik. You’re a straight-laced bastid, and I’m relieved. Thank you for being honest.”
Einar shot Henrik a knowing grin. “Told you,” he sang to Arvid. “Henrik isn’t going to trust anyone right away. You have to earn it.”
“A fair statement, and I would expect nothing less.” To Henrik, Arvid asked, “Allow me to share my story with you?”
Henrik nodded.
Arvid ran his tongue over his teeth, pressed his forearms to his thighs. “Let me make clear that we aren’t alone. There are others in power on Stenberg that support us.”
“Who?” Henrik asked.
“I can’t say.”
“Is this your contactthat Einar has mentioned?”
“Yes. In addition, there are other supportive soldats on Stenberg.”
Henrik’s heart sank. If other soldats joined the rebellion on Stenberg, that created an irrefutable tie for him to participate. A responsibility. He couldn’t so easily cut the cords of his old life if some of his brothers remained.
“Who?”
“Old Man, for one.”
“Old Man?”
The words conjured a picture of the rotund, red-cheeked guard who raised and lowered the gate into the soldat Quarters. Not truly a soldat, but regarded as part of the family.
“He sees everything in his bird’s nest up there,” Arvid said lightly. “There’s also Timmer, obviously, but he’s here now. A few new recruits, some others in the navy.”
“Any navy leadership?”
“No. There’s been a plan to kill me for more than a year,” Arvid continued. “It started with my refusal to support an underground slave trade that His Glory claimed was imperative for securing Stenberg’s interests. What those interests were, I have no idea.”
