Page 138 of Promise of Darkness
He smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. “And I’ll pay the price freely.”
If I cast off the curse and remember him.
“Tell me of Araya’s sons then,” I continue. “They say you overthrew them in single combat.”
“You’re full of questions today.”
“You’re the one who speaks of wars and lies. All I know are lies. Perhaps I want to know the truth. Your truth.”
Tension lingers in his shoulders as he strides ahead of me. “Araya had two trueborn sons, Emyr and Arawn. Emyr was cruel, but he was generally expected to be named his mother’s heir. He was big, and strong, and virile. He spent hours practicing his sword work and rode at my side, countermanding every order I made. He thought himself a warrior, but he wanted to be a conqueror. I hated him with every ounce of my being. Arawn was his opposite. Smart, agile, a lean whip of a man who spent most of his time on politics or in books.
“A month before she was murdered, Araya called her sons together and announced that Arawn would be her heir instead. I was there. As her warlord, I needed to know who to back. And I think she wanted me to be the shield between Emyr and Arawn, for any fight between them would end with Arawn’s death. He was never a fighter.”
“So Emyr killed her.”
“No.” The words are soft. Full of malice. “Emyr was never smart enough to plot her murder. The queen was no fool. If Emyr had done it, he would have driven a sword straight through her chest, taken the crown from her head, and then sat upon her throne, bloody sword and all.”
“Arawn, then?”
“I was the one who found her, slain on her throne room floor. Someone had cut her throat from behind. And Araya was the most dangerous woman I’ve ever met.” He falls silent for a moment, as if he’s picturing it again. “To get near her, her killer had to be someone she knew. Someone she would never suspect nor defend herself against. Someone smart, who could lay the blame at another’s feet. Someone who had something to gain.” Thiago glances toward me. “I can never prove it, but Arawn was the next one through the throne room doors with an entire complement of guards. They found me there, kneeling by her side with her blood wetting my fingers. Emyr came through the other door, just as the guards fanned out.” His lips quirk. “I don’t know who was more surprised. Emyr challenged me. Of course, he challenged me. All those years we’d sparred together, and he still couldn’t see his death looming. I cut him down within minutes and fought my way free of the castle.
“Arawn declared me her murderer and set about hunting me down, but he forgot one crucial fact… I was Araya’s warlord. Most of the army belonged to me, and I had Eris and Baylor by my side. The other two warbands split and sided with Arawn. It meant we had to fight our own, but I was younger then. Furious and lost in grief. I knew he’d done it. The smarmy little prick always did like to prove how clever he was. But I didn’t want to ride against our friends and allies. When we arranged ourselves on the field, I offered a chance of single combat so no blood would be spilled. Arawn refused to meet me on the battlefield himself, but he sent his finest warrior, and I cut them down.”
His voice softens. “If there’s one thing an army respects, it’s sacrifice. I had wagered everything I had on that duel. I could have ridden through those that stood against me—I had the numbers—but I chose to spare them instead. And when Gawad fell, by the terms of the duel, I was a free man. But Arawn ordered his generals to take my head. It was the second mistake he made. Trial by combat is unassailable. And he’d gone back on his word. So they brought me his head, instead.”
And he became the usurper. The bastard. The murderer.
His armies worshipped him, and those in his court counted him as both prince and friend, but the people in Ceres…. I couldn’t forget the pain in his voice when he spoke of their disdain for him.
And for what? A lie. A petty, scheming prince’s aborted attempt to take a throne.
Thiago’s never overthrown that mantle. He probably never will.
It’s true.
Words have a power even a blade can’t match.
Finn slips through the forest, appearing out of nowhere. “Keep your voices down,” he breathes. “We’re nearly there.”
“Nothing ahead?” Thiago asks.
Finn shakes his head. “Nothing but bones littering the forest floors and hanging in warning from the trees. Even the squirrels avoid this area, and judging from the spiderwebs, they have good cause.”
Spiderwebs. I give Thiago a long, hard look, which he ignores. There was no mention of spiderwebs.
“And Blaedwyn?” he asks.
“I can see her castle through the trees, but there’s no sign of her guards.” Finn scrubs at his mouth. “Her banner is hanging from the tallest tower.”
Which means she’s home.
Another complication.
Thiago turns to me. “Are you ready?”
The sooner I get in, get the answers I need, and get out, the sooner we can slip unnoticed from these cursed lands.
“Let’s get this done,” I tell him.
