Page 4 of Oath of Betrayal
He must have sensed my tension because he slid his fingers to my temples, massaging them slowly.
‘Close your eyes for a moment. You have a headache again?’ He probed in a matter-of-fact manner. I nodded and followed his command, letting his magic soothe the gnawing pain while I thought about the future of the fortress.
I dreaded the idea of bringing more untrained men to this isolated region, but I doubted I’d have a choice. The mountain fortresses always had two types of men: dragon riders, who conducted aerial defence and patrolled the Barren Lands; and the regular army, for threats that couldn’t be dealt with using dragon fire.
However, the quality of our ground forces had deteriorated year after year. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that the Crown wanted us to fail. The farm boys being recruited as foot soldiers, or even the nobles’ second sons sent here to ‘become men,’ were just fodder for the monsters.
The worst were the convicts—and keeping them in line added to my already tasking duties, but I couldn’t refuse. Otherwise, I would get nothing. So I took whomever was sent here, even if none of them could fight the way we needed them to.
They could manage in a dispute with ordinary humans, but what did the king expect them to do against foul magic and the vile creatures it bred? That, I didn’t know.
‘Thank you for staying with me in this godsforsaken place,’ I whispered. Alaric’s hands stilled for a moment before his calm touch continued. ‘Ask for a mandatory draft. Maybe your brother could help—heislord marshal, after all,’ he suggested. Ari knew that despite the bleak responses coming from court, I was preparing for war.
‘I can’t. There would be a revolt. Our soldiers have always been recruited from volunteers.’ It helped that they were each well paid for their five years of service to the Crown.
Except for the criminals. They had a choice between service … or the gallows. The unlucky ones were sent to one of the fortresses, where they lived in a permanent war camp—albeit with the best food and alcohol this kingdom could provide.
It was a long time to spend in constant peril, and with the recent casualties, the large payout or chance of relative freedom had lost its appeal.
‘I think that’s enough, my lord. You look like you’re falling asleep,’ Alaric said in an amused tone. ‘I came to tell you that I’m going to Grey Stone Valley. I saw mention of a high concentration of aether there in a manuscript I read recently, along with something about a lake and the unusual properties of the stones found in its depths. The manuscript also noted that the Barrier crystals were taken from the mine close to its location.’
Alaric’s plans caught my attention, and I looked up to see the distracted expression he always wore when talking about his findings. I had asked the Council of Mages about the keystones the moment he had mentioned replacing the damaged one, and although they told me it wasn’t possible, I trusted my mage.
‘It’ll take you at least two days to get there by horse. I will go with you. I need the diversion, and if we ride Vahin we’ll be home before supper,’ I offered, pushing the chair back so hard that it fell over with a heavy thud.
‘Yes … well, if you insist.’ Alaric waved his hand in dismissal to the adjutant who’d waited patiently during our conversation. The man saluted and began gathering the day’s reports and stacking them into neat piles on my heavy oak desk.
It always amazed me how easily my men accepted Alaric’s orders. He wasn’t in the army. He wasn’t even human or fromour kingdom; though his own kingdom—or rather, empire—was part of the Lowland Kingdoms, the coalition formed between all of our neighbouring territories after the Necromancer’s War.
One day, Ari had simply turned up, stating that he was an emissary of the dark fae empress to our kingdom of Dagome. He had asked for permission to investigate the wild magic in the Lost Ridge … and never left.
Initially, I’d suspected him of being a spy. But after several months of scrutinising his every move, which consisted of him either visiting the Barrier or reading ancient texts in the library, I had dismissed those concerns. I desperately needed a competent mage after the last one left for our capital of Truso, and he fit into life here so well that it seemed natural to offer him the position of fortress mage.
‘After you, my lord,’ Alaric urged with a wry grin, and I walked forward, heading towards the landing field.
From the outside, Varta Fortress might look like a gloomy castle, with its rough granite turrets and walls that seemed to grow from the mountainside; however, behind the imposing front was a mountain valley with a thriving town. The work of countless riders over the centuries, it had been a slow process developing the quiet trading post into the stronghold it was today, but it had flourished with a surprisingly pleasant atmosphere.
The granite ramparts housed a robust military presence, and the lower levels of the valley were full of barracks and training grounds supported by artisans. The middle held a large town with a central market square and all the buildings one would expect to find there: a tavern, healer’s house, a few permanent shops manned mainly by retired soldiers, and, to my men’s relief, a small but very popular brothel, which—thanks to the primarily male population—was a well-respected establishment.
Contrary to the rest of the kingdom, being alady of the nightwas considered a highly reputable profession in the fortress.
Our permanent residents also lived at Varta Fortress.
Mated and unmated dragon riders, soldiers, and craftsmen occupied houses around the town square, which shared a corner with the landing field surrounded by rocky gardens. Here also stood the second-most-popular building in every fortress—the female boarding house, where unmated women lived during their yearly service.
On higher ground was the castle, carved directly into the side of the mountain. It contained not only the administrative buildings, the library, and a spacious courtyard, but also dragon caverns, a dungeon, and officers’ chambers, with the upper floor designated for the lord commander and fortress mage.
The castle was a perfect creation of dwarven architecture, dragon flame, and human magic. It was as well-appointed as any palace, even if its luxury was wasted on the men who occupied it.
My heavy sigh caught Ari’s attention.
‘Come now, Orm. Try to put your worries aside for a moment. You look like you want to rip someone to shreds. Should I take you outside and teach you how to use that dagger on your belt?’ Alaric had dropped his formal speech the moment we were alone, and I looked at my friend with a smirk.
‘As if …’ I jested, knowing all too well he was deadly with daggers.
‘Perhaps we could ask the local villages to increase the female population here even before Maiden’s Day? As far as I know, none of last year’s bond servants have stayed in the fortress. That could lead to unrest.’
I sighed again, shaking my head. ‘Tell me, how am I expected to guard the ridge when half of my men are busy wooing new bond maidens, and the horribly unprepared soldiers the king sends are cowering under the kitchen table?’
