The Shadow Throne (19 page)

O
f the thousand men who had been stationed at Falstan Lake, fewer than a couple hundred had made it into the forest. We took refuge deep within the thickest part of the woods where little light from the stars broke through. A few fires were already built, and my soldiers huddled around them, exhausted, broken, and without hope. Tobias and Amarinda were busy treating the mildly wounded, but the more seriously injured remained in the wagons. Nothing could save them.

And then there was Mott, his life teetering at the edge of death. I stood beside the wagon that had carried him here, feeling more helpless than I ever had before. Tobias had already bound the stab wound, but Mott was still struggling for breath and falling in and out of consciousness.

“What can be done to save him?” I asked Tobias quietly.

Tobias only shrugged. “Everything was left behind in our camp. All the bandages, and medicines, and tools. I found an aravac plant to help with his pain. But I can’t save him. Not here.”

Until his last drawn breath, I would never give up on Mott. How many times had he expressed his willingness to follow me into the devils’ lair and back again? War had come, and he had indeed followed me down the darkest of paths. He remained there now, hovering in the shadows between life and death. I had to lead him back out again. But it would cost me dearly.

I bit on my lip as I considered my options. Or, if I was being honest, there was only one terrible choice left. It had always been in the back of my mind, as if I knew from the beginning that something like this would be inevitable. Once the decision was made, every other random possibility I’d ever considered came together in my mind like a completed puzzle. To Tobias, I said, “If you had those supplies, could you save him?”

“I could probably save many of these men. But —” Tobias’s eyes narrowed. “No, Jaron. Whatever you’re thinking —”

“I’m thinking that Mott is going to die!” I hissed. “I already lost Imogen and it nearly destroyed me. We’re going to lose this war too. I will
not
lose any more lives.”

“What about your life? That camp is crawling with Avenians. You cannot sneak back there!”

“No,” I mumbled, “I can’t sneak in. But I will get those supplies.” He called after me when I strode away, but I refused to acknowledge him. The last thing I needed was rational advice.

Amarinda found me several minutes later as I was at the edge of our refuge, saddling a horse. Her fists were clenched and her shoulders thrown back. I recognized that posture from the many times Imogen had been angry with me. Now Amarinda said, “I know where you’re going. Jaron, I am begging you not to do this!”

I had no interest in quarreling with her. For better or worse, nothing could change my mind at this point. “Tobias must be desperate if he sent you to stop me.”

“He sent me too.” Fink appeared from behind her. “Please don’t go.”

I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. With my eyes still on the saddle, I said, “This has to be done, Fink. Even if you don’t understand that yet.”

“I understand it plenty. They’re going to kill you!”

Did he think my fate was any better if I stayed in the woods? Even if none of us wanted to say it, we all knew there would be another battle tomorrow, far worse than today’s disaster. No matter how hard we fought, or how cleverly I planned, by sunset tomorrow, several hundred more would be dead. I would be one of them.

“What would Imogen want you to do?” Amarinda asked. “If she asked you to stay here, would you run so openly toward your own death?”

My voice was gentle when I spoke to her. “It’s never been a secret that I’ve had no desire to be king. Why did people think that was? I always knew how this might end.” Then I turned back to the saddle to tighten the straps. “But it’s all right. I understand now what Imogen did for me, and that’s what I’ve got to do for Carthya.”

“Imogen would —”

“She would hate me for this.” I released the saddle straps and took Amarinda by the hand instead. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. I’m going to try my best, and I still have some options. But if things go badly, and they might, then don’t be sad for me.” She looked away, but she needed to understand that I intended to bring this war to an end. One way or another, I would soon be at peace, which was all I had ever wanted. “Imogen will meet me in the afterlife. My family will be there too, and Mott if I don’t get him those medicines.”

When he spoke, the muscles on Fink’s face became pinched and knotted. “What about me? You’re the only family I’ve got.” His tone nearly stopped me then. He’d already gone through believing me to be dead once. I hated to make him endure that again.

I released Amarinda, and then reached for my sword, which I had left propped against a tree. I told Fink to hold out his hands, and into them I placed my sword.

“Take care of this,” I said. “You’re a knight of Carthya, remember? This sword belongs to you now.”

“Only until you come back.” He lowered the sword to his side, then said, “Come back, please. I don’t want to be alone again.”

“I promise to try. But even if I don’t, you’ll always have Amarinda and Tobias.”

“Tobias lectures too much.” Fink closed his eyes tight and shook his head. “Besides, I need you.”

“All of Carthya needs you,” Amarinda added.

“Then let me do what I must to save it.” I finished preparing the horse, but before I could climb on, Amarinda put a hand on my arm.

“Your family would be proud of who you’ve become,” she whispered. “They would’ve given everything to see what a great leader you are.”

“They did give everything.” I sighed as their faces passed through my mind. “Whatever happens next, never let it be said that I failed my father. Tell the people I did everything I could.”

“They already know it. Come back to us, Jaron.”

“If you die, I’ll tell the saints not to let you in,” Fink said irritably. It was nearly what I had told him while we were stranded on the cliff.

I answered that he’d better hope the saints did let me in, or who else would take care of him in the afterlife one day? I smiled when I said it, but Fink only stuck his jaw forward, similar to the way I did when I was being stubborn. Then I kissed Amarinda’s cheek and climbed onto the horse. Before I left, I turned back to them and said, “If Tobias becomes king of this land, then don’t let him touch my sword. He’ll hurt somebody with it, and not in the good way either.”

I rode off without looking back, and paused only once, at the edge of the forest. The camp that had been mine only hours ago now displayed Avenian colors, and was alive with crackling fires and the smell of stew. The shadows of soldiers at vigil duty frequently crossed in front of the fires, and orders were being shouted to situate everyone within the camp for the night. I got a distant look at my tent, lit from within by lanterns. Perhaps Vargan was in there, maybe Conner as well.

Amarinda’s question echoed in my head, of what Imogen would say if she were here. She’d be furious, no doubt. And then I’d remind her that it wasn’t much different from what she had done for me. Sacrificing oneself so that others might live was the ultimate act of love.

That was what Mott had wanted me to understand, and now I did. Of all emotions, none were more powerful than love. The irony was that if he knew my plans, Mott would rise from his bed and crawl here to stop me. If he knew what I was about to do, not the devils nor death itself could keep him away.

Reminded of him now, and the urgency of time, I pressed forward. But the memories of how Vargan’s men had treated me before were still fresh in my mind, like tender scars that would soon be torn apart into new wounds. It would be worse this time, and the thought of it made my hands shake so hard that it was difficult to keep hold of the reins. I cursed at my cowardice and told myself this was the last hope we had. Even knowing that, I still had to force my legs to prod the horse onward.

The vigils saw me coming from some distance and a dozen or more of them rode out to meet me. Terrowic, the man who had been so cruel when I was a prisoner before, reached me first. I was unarmed and told him so before they arrived, but they still surrounded me as if I were packed with gunpowder. Even though I was offering no threat, when Commander Kippenger arrived, he yanked me off the horse and threw me to the ground. His men carefully checked me for any weapons, then at last he pulled me to my feet and demanded to know why I had come.

“Take me to King Vargan,” I said. “If he can hear you calling him above the sound of his snores.”

“The king and Lord Conner have left for elsewhere in Carthya. There are other battles besides this one, you know.”

“But this is the only one that matters.” I studied Kippenger’s eyes. He looked as tired as I felt, and certainly as battle weary. “We both lost a lot of men here today. There’s one in particular, a very good friend of mine, who will die if I don’t get your help.”

Kippenger folded his arms, but didn’t display any of the cold arrogance I would have expected. He only said, “Why should I help you?”

“Because it benefits you too. If you wish to gain favor with your king, then help me. If you will, then I’ll give you what he wants most.”

“What’s that?”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, me.” Obviously.

“You dare to set terms? I have you right now.”

“You have the cooperative me right now. Try to take me by force and I promise that one of us will not make it to Vargan alive. My terms are simple, Kippenger.”

His patience with me was already wearing thin. “What is it you want, then?” he asked.

“An end to the fighting. Take your men and leave this place. And I want the immediate delivery of all medical supplies in this camp to my soldiers who are in the forest.”

“Ah. And for that, I get to take you to my king?”

For the first time that evening, my breath relaxed. “Better than that. In exchange for my demands, I will surrender Carthya.”

D
espite his suspicions that I was attempting some sort of trick, Commander Kippenger quickly agreed to my terms. He demanded I remove my brigandine, since it was filthy from the day’s battle. I agreed, on the terms that he find me something suitable to replace it with and nothing in Avenia’s colors. Then Kippenger ordered the medical supplies be taken immediately to the forest. Once that was under way, he announced to his men that all of Avenia would leave camp as soon as possible, with me in their company.

“King Vargan left specific orders if you were captured,” he said.

“But you didn’t capture me. I gave myself up. So unless the orders were to provide me with a supper of roasted goose, you shouldn’t feel any need to obey them.”

“His orders were to deliver you for execution.” Kippenger paused, and then added, “At Farthenwood.”

I breathed out a curse that likely caused my mother to curl in her grave. “No, that’s unacceptable. My kingdom begins in Drylliad and that is the only place this war must end.”

I made a move to back away, but was blocked by Terrowic, immediately behind me. He said, “Conner thought you’d resist a return to his estate. Why is that?” I tried to ignore him, but he poked at the center of my back. “Don’t you have scars that came from Farthenwood? Wasn’t it there you also found out your entire family had been killed? And whatever happened to that servant girl you made friends with there? She was a pretty thing, I thought.”

My jaw tightened, and I considered the risks of taking just one swing at him. Fortunately for us both, Kippenger came between us. To me, he said, “Farthenwood is our destination, and there’s no one to blame for that but yourself. You sent a message with an Avenian thief several days ago. It was intended to reach your commanders in Drylliad, but the thief brought it to our king instead.”

I had suspected as much, but only muttered, “I should’ve paid him better.”

“You needn’t worry about that. King Vargan rewarded him very well. In that message, you ordered every spare man to gather in Drylliad. Why do you think we let Mendenwal fight that battle? If you had so many men, it wouldn’t be Avenia who suffered there. You also ordered your gold to be taken to Farthenwood. There’s obviously a trap waiting for us if we go to your castle. But the spoils are at Farthenwood.”

“The message was a lie.” The waver in my voice sounded worried and uncertain. “Do you think I gave it to an Avenian thief truly expecting it would reach my castle? My armies in Drylliad are few and weak, and there is no gold at Farthenwood.”

Kippenger laughed. “Oh, but that message did reach your castle. King Vargan was kind enough to send it on to your regents, after he read it. Whether you intended the order or not, your men are obeying it. Lord Conner verified that your men are collecting in Drylliad and the wealth of your country was moved to his estate, all as your message instructed. I believe you’ve been sunk by your own cleverness.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time for that.”

“You’re reasonably intelligent, and braver than most people I’ve known,” Kippenger said. “But you’re still just a boy. You never did have a chance against us.”

Now wasn’t the best time to argue, but I felt like it. Instead, I kept my mind fixed on what I had to do and glared up at him. “You must allow me some terms in exchange for my surrender. I demand to end this war at my castle and nowhere else.”

“We’ve already met enough of your demands!” Then Kippenger’s voice softened. “Don’t despair, Jaron. There is good news too. My king orders that you not be harmed — not yet anyway. He intends a large audience for your hanging and doesn’t want you to appear injured — he doesn’t want to make you into a martyr.”

That was a great relief, although considering Vargan’s orders ended with my execution, the news could have been better. Still, I promised Kippenger if he gave me a bed to sleep in that night, he would find me there in the morning. The commander agreed to the deal, but insisted I wear a chain at my ankle and have vigils in my tent. It wasn’t a great show of trust, but then again, I wasn’t the most trustworthy prisoner. Once I was given the bed, I almost immediately fell asleep.

The following morning, I was told Avenia would keep the camp for another day to give their men some rest. That allowed me another day before my execution, so I made no objection. I was also offered another livery in the red and black of Avenia, and told it was all they had. I pointed out that it was in poor condition and smelly, and Terrowic countered that so was I, which probably was pretty accurate. When I refused it, he called in enough men to ensure I put it on. I didn’t put up nearly as much of a fuss as I should have. I figured it was more important to save my energy for later, when I’d undoubtedly need it.

Other than a few heavily guarded allowances for me to leave the tent, I was kept chained to the bed, and for the most part, I made no protest. At least it was a bed, and Kippenger was strictly enforcing the orders for nobody to harm me. Admittedly, I took advantage of that and offered more insults than I’d otherwise have dared. The worst anyone gave me in response was a hard kick to my shin, which the soldier claimed was an accident. I couldn’t complain to Kippenger, though, mostly because Kippenger’s mother had been included as part of the insult. Otherwise, I ate every bite of what little they offered me and slept as much as I could. At least when I was asleep, I didn’t have to worry about Mott or Fink or how my soldiers who remained in the woods were faring.

On the morning of Avenia’s exodus from camp, the soldiers left in an orderly fashion. Nearly all of them were on horseback and I wondered what had happened to their wounded, who were clearly not amongst them. Kippenger had given me nothing to eat before we left, even though I smelled food from the fires and knew even the lowliest soldier there had eaten. And he had the chains on my wrists tethered to another chain behind Terrowic’s horse. While the officers and most of the soldiers were riding from here, I’d be walking. Or be dragged if I couldn’t keep up.

“I can’t follow behind Terrowic’s horse,” I protested. “The smell will be unbearable.”

“All horses smell the same,” Kippenger replied.

But I eyed Terrowic. “I wasn’t talking about the horse.”

Kippenger only chuckled and strode away. Terrowic quietly promised that he’d lead me through paths with the sharpest rocks he could find. He probably meant what he said, but then, so had I.

Several times along the way, I asked if our destination was still Farthenwood, to which I only received impolite smirks from whoever heard my complaints. We were moving northeast, steadily toward Farthenwood. Vargan and Conner were probably there already, plotting the next phase in this war. A messenger had been sent ahead. Soon they would learn that I was coming to surrender. Conner was probably ecstatic at the prospect of watching me accept defeat at his former home. That sort of justice would appeal to his twisted nature.

My right leg began bothering me fairly early in the trek. I’d hardly given it the gentle care the castle physicians had insisted upon when they’d removed the brace, and my recent fall from the cliff had deeply bruised the flesh. But despite the pain, I hoped this trek would strengthen my muscles. I didn’t intend to fall from a climb again.

Several miles into the journey, I became bored. We passed a fallen tree along the way that was littered with small rocks. I casually scooped a couple into my hands. When the two men on horses behind me became engaged in conversation, I hurled one of the rocks at the back of Terrowic’s head. It hit him, hard.

He stopped and turned around, but my eyes were already wandering to the views along the trail. When he caught my attention, I shrugged innocently, and then cocked my head at the man behind me, blaming him for the incident.

Terrowic frowned at me, then turned around and continued riding. I waited a few more minutes, and then threw the second rock, hitting him again.

He was ready for me this time and leapt to the ground. He shoved me down, and then raised the whip he had used for his horse.

“Get off me,” I snarled. “Or else after I win this war, I will find you and return tenfold everything you’ve done to me. I want to talk to Commander Kippenger. Now!”

He glared at the men who were still on their horses behind me, then stomped away. A few minutes later he returned with Kippenger, who was clearly displeased at our trek coming to a halt.

“Get on your feet,” he ordered me. “We’re expected by nightfall.”

“At which point I’ll be killed. I’m in no hurry.”

“I should kill you now.”

“I wish you would. Because then I can die with a smile on my face.”

“Why’s that?”

“What punishment will you get if you fail to arrive with me? They’ll beat you harder than you could ever beat me here.”

“You are more obstinate than your worst reputation.” He tried again. “Now, get on your feet.”

“You can knock me unconscious or drag me to my death, but I will not walk any farther. Get me a horse.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re a prisoner.”

“I’m a king. And I demand to be treated as such. Get me a horse.”

Kippenger licked his lips, and then turned to Terrowic. “He’ll use your horse. Help him up, then see that it’s tethered to mine.”

Terrowic’s eyes darkened, but the order had been given and the commander was already marching away. He grabbed me from the ground and all but threw me onto his horse.

In his anger, Terrowic had neglected to remove his pack from the horse’s saddle. Once we were under way again, I took advantage of that. He had a container of water, some dried meat and biscuits, and a few apples. When I finished the first apple, I made sure to toss the core over my shoulder and hoped it hit him on the head too.

Other than what was necessary for the care of the horses, we took very few breaks throughout the journey. Still, it was dark when I first saw the lights of Farthenwood in the distance. Once we got closer, I saw that a gallows was being constructed at the front of the home. Two nooses were already in place. One was for me. I didn’t know who the other was for.

At the far end of the property were several Carthyan wagons, under heavy guard. Most of them were covered, but the corner of one had come undone and flapped in the breeze. The moonlight lit the gold inside the wagon. As Kippenger had said, the wealth of Carthya was here indeed.

Kippenger personally verified the chains were still firm around my wrists, which I thought should’ve been obvious by the way the metal had worn sores into my flesh. When he was satisfied, they pulled me off the horse and made me wait while someone informed their king I had arrived.

I was once again amazed by how little Farthenwood had changed since my last visit here. Certainly to attend Vargan, the grand estate was filling with people, but they couldn’t have been here long. Other than the gallows and the gold-filled wagons, the home itself seemed no different.

Eventually I was led inside. On my first trip here, I had also been a prisoner. Escorted in with more courtesy and fewer chains, but a prisoner nonetheless. I hated the thought of having to face Vargan here. Vargan would gloat over his victory, humiliating me as I signed papers that preserved the lives of my countrymen, giving us peace, but at the very highest price. And Vargan would be sure I knew every detail of what would happen tomorrow, the day of my execution. That was intolerable, but it infuriated me to know that Conner would be here too. He had wanted the throne from the moment he became a regent. He had murdered my family and expressed his regrets that I hadn’t been amongst his victims. And he was willing to turn Carthya into a feeding gallery for the Avenian vultures, just so he could wear a crown and pretend that made him any sort of a royal.

I was taken to Conner’s office, or perhaps it was considered Vargan’s office now. Conner’s wide desk was gone, as were his books and other decorations. Over the past several months, nearly everything of value had been stripped from this place. Vargan rose from a simple wooden chair that must have been intended as a temporary throne. Conner was already standing behind him, arms folded and dressed in all his former finery. He appeared to have aged considerably in the prison, but now, with his hair washed and combed neatly back, he looked rather distinguished, a weak facade for his rotting soul inside.

Vargan immediately spoke. “You gave yourself up, Jaron. Why?”

“I needed medical supplies for my men.”

“Are you surrendering?”

My jaw tightened. “Call it that if you’d like.”

“Then you will kneel.”

I had known this was coming, but my muscles instinctively locked against his command. It was not in me to kneel to another ruler.

Behind me, Commander Kippenger took exception to my hesitation. He kicked behind the knee of my right leg, which immediately buckled. I collapsed to the floor, and when I tried to rise, he pressed his foot down on my calf, ensuring I maintained a kneeling position.

“Very good,” Vargan said. “The terms of your surrender are this. I will be the emperor of these lands. Carthya will become a tributary to Avenia. One half of everything Carthya produces will be sent to me. Carthya will be subject to my commands and my laws, but the people will be allowed to maintain their own customs under the leadership of King Bevin Conner.”