Page 71 of The Queens and the Kings
“It created onded.”
“Yes.”
“What if the mainland is using it for that?”
“She never indicated.”
“Of course she wouldn’t. We’d be equal fools to give her the opportunity to create an army of onded, should that be their aim.” Einar’s teeth clenched. “Not to mention the Ladylord might be just as responsible for Agnes’s death.”
Henrik eyed him. “Does that change anything?”
“Not yet,” he muttered. “His Glory sent it, so His Glory will own it. I’ll decide later what role the Ladylord played. Besides, I want His Glory gone for more reasons than one. If we can protect innocent Stenbergians by helping the mainland, it would be worth it to bring that bastid down.”
At least his animalistic wrath contained far more life than his previous depression. Revenge shone bright through his livid words.
Henrik rubbed a hand over his eyes. He didn’t want to eventhinkabout the possibility that Einar would take on the mainlandandStenberg. Responsibility rested in His Glory’s lap as much as the mainland. That option they could focus on.
He asked, “Do you think the Ladylord is worth helping?”
“I don’t trust anybody except Pedr. He’s growing on me. He hates me, I’m pretty sure, but I trust him.”
Henrik chortled. “I think he hates anyone that isn’t Britt or Malcolm.”
Einar agreed with a tilt of his head. A contemplative expression crossed his face. “If the Ladylord needs damma, and she’s so interested in getting rid of His Glory, the mainlandhas an interestin controlling Stenberg. Which is exactly why I agreed to help.”
“I thought so.”
Einar smiled, brief as it lasted. He faded back into solemnity as he said, “She found Selma, it sounds like.”
“She foundsomeone.”
Einar eyed him. “You’re going to meet her, aren’t you?”
“It seems foolish not to.”
“The Ladylord is probably a bigger piece of shite than His Glory, but I don’t think you should turn your opportunity down.”
It seemed far too simple, and hopeful, for both outcomes to happen. Helping innocent Stenbergiansandgetting rid of His Glory. Not to mention throwing Selma into the mix. Life didn’t smooth into place that way.
“We’ll receive more information from Arvid with the messenger drake, and ask Pedr what he knows,” Henrik concluded.
Einar, leaning into the rowing rhythm, grunted with each stroke, letting his frenzy fade into the release of exertion.
Chapter Twenty One
PEDR
Pedr clenchedboth fists at his side, drew in a steady breath, and exhaled it. He congratulated himself on a modulated tone.
“What do you mean the wyverns saw you, Britt?”
Britt, filthy and exhausted, had the nerve to glare her defiance. She smelled like mud. Dirt marred her cheeks. Meanwhile, Denerfen perched on the edge of a fresh water bucket and drank as if his life depended on it.
She retorted with the penultimate little sister attitude. “Isaidthat one of the wyverns glimpsed me before I left. I got away.” She gestured to herself. “Obviously. The Keepers didn’t know I was there.”
Pedr breathed hard and fast, indignation brimming. Didn’t she value her own life? Apparently not.
Henrik appeared none-too-pleased either. He stood with his legs braced, arms over his chest, brow melting into a glare. Pedr’s respect for the soldat elevated. A lour that deep deserved it.
