Page 96 of Poisoned Kingdom
He might have his peasant army, and even the support of some in the Royal Council, but he was still no match for me. Dagome’s nobles swayed like grass in a strong wind every time I implemented a new law, and that posed a problem, but I still had the fealty of my army.
Those soldiers were loyal to the man who’d brought them back alive from a war no one expected to survive, let alone win.
I looked down at the ledger, my brow furrowing when I noticed an alarming set of figures.
‘I thought we’d stationed troops evenly between the northern and southern borders,’ I said, tapping a line on the page. ‘So why are the losses here so disproportionate?’
The camp in question guarded the passage to Wreckers Cove, a den of pirates and marauders I’d never managed to fully pacify. Still, I’d kept the main roads open for the sake of the honest few who remained.
‘It’s difficult terrain,’ my adjutant said, ‘and there are frequent night raids—small boats, quick strikes. It’s rumoured the Tangra Empire is arming them. We’ve reinforced the output with archers, but it’s hard to fight an enemy that comes and goes with the tide.’
I nodded, the tip of my quill tapping thoughtfully against the parchment.
‘Write to my brother. Tell him to send a unit of dragon riders to help with the patrols. If it’s Tangra, we need to know.’
I had provided Orm with some of my dragon riders to help settle the Ozar Kingdom, but it was time to call them back to service. The idea of Tangra supplying weapons to criminalsacross the sea sat wrong with me. How had that rumour even started, and why would a distant empire concern itself with Dagome’s outlaws?
‘The pirates burn their dead at sea,’ I said. ‘I doubt they’ll mind receiving the honour a little early.’
Understanding dawned in my officer’s eyes. ‘An excellent idea, sire. I should have thought of it . . .’
‘Not so excellent, really. Dragons hate the cold and wet. But if we can tempt them with a little extra gold for a few months and rotate the patrol often enough to reduce their discomfort, we might be able to end this threat once and for all.’ I paused. ‘Any other trouble in the region?’
‘Plenty,’ he said grimly. ‘But all behind Duke Tivala’s borders. We’ve discovered some unusual . . . excavations along the border, and the nearby villages have been swarmed by hostile creatures—biesy,1 strigae, and worse. It’s as if something drove them from their lairs.
‘The battle mages there are holding the line, but only just. We could send a company of soldiers, but the duke has refused military assistance. And as the law stands, we can’t enter his domain without his permission or the king’s order . . . Would you like us to proceed, sir?’
‘No. But tell your spies to keep their eyes open. I want to know exactly what he’s digging for, and why. Start preparations for the New Year manoeuvres and arrange for enhanced provisions. I want the men ready—for anything,’ I said, stretching back in the chair.
The Winter Solstice Ball promises to be an exciting event.
When I’d decided to hold the ball to meet my future queen, I hadn’t expected it to turn into a feeding frenzy.
It would be so nice if Tivala were involved in the srebrec trade—then maybe I won’t need an army to bring the bastarddown,I thought, my lips spreading into a vicious smile. And I will enjoy telling him exactly who was behind his family’s ruin.
I’d never quite let go of my grudge—not since the old fool had refused to send men to fight against the Lich King.
I was drafting countless plans in my head for preparing for battle and dealing with rebellious lords using political pressure when my guard leaned in through the tent flap.
‘Sire, there’s a woman here causing a commotion. Claims she rode all day to get here and won’t leave without seeing you.’
His words caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting anyone—certainly not a woman. My location wasn’t exactly secret, but I’d seeded enough conflicting reports to keep my enemies guessing. Misdirection had its uses.
‘Ensure she’s unarmed, and let her in,’ I said, gesturing for the scribe to clear the table.
As soon as the scribe left, the flap was pulled back, and my guard ushered in a pale, road-worn Roksana.
‘Your Majesty,’ she said, curtsying. The display of manners instantly set me on edge.
‘Leave us,’ I ordered my men. ‘Now.’
As the tent emptied, I noticed the tight set of her jaw, the faint tremble in her hands as she clutched her skirt.
‘Rey . . .’ she breathed.
I crossed the space in two strides, reaching to steady her.
Her breath caught. She tried again. ‘Tova’s missing.’
