Wrath Games (3 page)

She surprised me with a hug. I pressed her against my chest, my worries slowly disappearing as the feel of her body took over my mind.

“But I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” she said.

“Will you help me protect you, then?”

“How?”

“Help me figure out how to kill Swenn.”

We finally parted, the sadness of her piercing brown eyes nearly pulling my heart out of my chest.

“I…have to think about that,” she replied.

“He’s not human.”

“He is.”

Someone started to unlock my door. Shara jumped.

“It’s probably Henry,” I told her.

Soon the door eased open and in stepped Henry.

“Get out of here!” Shara yelled at him.

I put my hand on her back. “He won’t leave.”

Henry sat and leisurely pulled an apple from his pocket, as if the events that had just happened were decades ago.

“You’re a disgraceful, horrible man!” Shara screamed. “Holding a woman so another man can dishonor her. I can’t believe—”

I covered her mouth. “At least let me get the door closed.”

A heavy silence settled over the room after I shut it. Henry handed me a scroll.

“I’m sorry.”

I read it aloud to Shara.

She started to sing in an angry tone. “That’s not good enough. Everything you say could be a lie or a bluff. Will you do it again? How many times, five, ten? Is he paying you money?” She scoffed. “And I thought you were funny.”

Henry stopped chewing, tilting his head at her with a bemused grin.

Shara furiously thrust her finger at his face. “Yes, I sing sometimes! So what!”

He stood and lightly applauded.

“I can’t tell if you’re doing that facetiously.” Her tone reflected her continued annoyance.

He folded his arms and made a show of putting on a serious face.

“Are you truly sorry?” she prodded.

He whistled twice, two high notes.

“That means yes,” I told her.

He reached into his pocket and handed me another tiny scroll.
“It’s an honor to meet a pyforial mage.”

I grumbled and showed it to Shara.

“He sure makes it hard to stay mad at him,” she said.

“Maybe that’s the point.”

“You’re right! He’s just a big liar!” She shoved Henry with all her might, letting out a loud grunt. He didn’t move, while she stumbled backward. I caught her before she fell.

My door swung open. Darri rushed in, his face flushed. “What are you doing in here! You’re late meeting Commander Jaymes and he’s furious.”

We ran with Darri, exchanging surprised glances when he led us through the southern inner courtyard.

“Are we meeting him outside the castle?” I asked.

“In the outer courtyard. Your horses are ready.”

We’d passed beneath the barbican separating the two courtyards when a man clad in a steel breastplate began to yell. He stood in the center of the outer courtyard—right on top of the “D” to represent our kingdom’s sigil of a dalion.

“You’re late, recruits! That’s five pits off your salary for the week.”

“No one told us we had to meet you here,” Shara argued as we closed in.

“That’s another five pits for talking back, Shara Solo H.”

“That’s not fair to her,” I blurted.

“Well then let’s make it fair! Another five pits off your salary as well. That’s one ruff less to each of you.”

“How much is our salary?” Shara asked.

Darri scoffed in disbelief. “Are you stupid? You need to shut up.”

“You are dismissed, Darri,” the commander told him.

“Thank you, sir.” He walked off.

“Get on your horses, now!” Would this man ever stop screaming?

Shara and I had never mounted so quickly. Vkar seemed well-rested, as did Shara’s horse, Whitspur. I would’ve been relieved to know they were cared for if I wasn’t wound so tightly by Commander Jaymes’ attitude.

“You’re both following me to the prison. Shara, keep your horse next to mine, Neeko in back, and stay quiet.”

I wondered why we would go to the prison, but asking would just mean more money taken from my salary.

My salary—the thought put a grin on my face. I hadn’t even considered being paid for my service. Panic took over when the commander cried out a quick “heeya!” and his horse burst into a gallop, Shara’s matching stride while mine immediately fell behind.

I cursed and tried to make Vkar speed up. He whinnied in complaint and reared high. I fell off with an “oof,” then scrambled back on, muttering curses the entire time.

“Come on, Vkar.”

Soon he reached a gallop and neared Shara and the commander. Jaymes looked over his shoulder and halted his mount.

“You can’t even ride a horse, recruit?” he yelled. “By next week, you’ll have fallen off for the last time. Understand, Neeko Aquin?”

No, I didn’t understand. Did that mean he’d teach me to be a better rider, or did I have to find someone else to do that?

“Yes, sir.”

Luckily, Commander Jaymes didn’t feel the need to speed through the crowded city so it became easy to keep up as he interrogated Shara.

“What makes you smart?”

“I remember everything I read, sir.”

“And what do you read?”

“Everything.”

Jaymes examined her eyes. “Everything?”

She nervously moved her raven hair out of her face. “Everything.”

“Who was the king of the North one hundred years ago?”

Shara began thinking aloud. “That would be year 1427. The drought and first sacrifice was in 1425, so King Capillo would still be on the throne two years later.”

“And what did he do?”

“He made the law that every year there would be a sacrifice to the god of life. At the same time, King Edgrall of the South made the law that every year there would be a sacrifice to the god of death. The day after both laws were put in place, King Capillo was killed. His son was too young to lead, so the king’s younger brother took the throne as a steward until the new monarch came of age. It was later revealed that the steward had killed his own brother. The people of Glaine came together under the queen of the late king and attacked the castle.” She paused. “Shall I go on?”

“No. Tell me instead how people’s opinions of sacrificing have changed in the hundred years since then.”

She spoke without pause. “The North has remained mostly indifferent about sacrificing, while the South has been adamant that it continue. Although, I’d imagine many in the North—those who’ve seen the fire games of the Southern army firsthand—have lost their indifference and now want the sacrifices to recommence.”

“Your home was destroyed. Does this mean you’re one of these Northerners you just described?” For some reason, he was still yelling.

“No, sir!” Shara’s voice rose. “I believe King Quince is right to end the sacrifices. There is proof that they do no good.”

He seemed to calm as he grunted. “So you know your history. Now tell me about the land. Where would be the best place in the North for us to engage our enemies?”

Shara hummed and I worried she would break into song. Unfortunately, I was right.

“It depends on the game they play. Will they burn more houses with each fray? Or will they accumulate day after day, then attack, in an attempt to force us back? Do they want the capital to fall, or do they just want to brawl? If the latter, then they want to scare us. We’d best not scatter, but we can’t let them snare us. We protect each town, village, and city. We wait, be ready, though it won’t be pretty. If they attack, then we battle. If they fall back, we won’t rattle. We follow them south, where—”

“My gods, will you shut up!”

Although I rode mostly behind Shara, I could still see her face turn bright red.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“How many hours did you waste rehearsing this idiotic song just to impress me?”

“None, sir. Sometimes I sing. The rhymes…they help me think. They give my thoughts direction.”

“You’d better learn to think without singing or rhyming around me, recruit.”

“I will, sir. Right away.”

“You’d be riding back to the castle right now if you hadn’t happened to describe the current strategy of our army. Only because of that am I giving you another chance. No more singing or rhyming.”

“I understand. Thank you, sir.”

The commander went on to ask her all sorts of things, most of which I knew nothing about. He tested her knowledge on treating injuries from missing limbs to trauma of the mind. She seemed to know all the correct answers. He asked her about music and whether she had any talent with an instrument. She could sing the lyrics of many songs, but she admitted she had no heart for music and even less talent to create her own.

We rode through the city, the commander’s steel breastplate continually turning heads. He stopped at the intersection of two crowded streets. There were maybe a hundred people within sight, all close enough to hear anything we shouted.

“Call everyone nearby,” he told Shara.

Her eyes bulged. “What?”

“Demand their attention.”

“And…and tell them what?”

“Doesn’t matter. I just want to see you do it.”

Shara tried to clear her throat but coughed instead. I could feel her nervousness. She looked around and opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She scrunched her shoulders and tucked her head down.

“I can’t do that,” she practically whispered.

“We’re not leaving until you do.”

Shara looked as if she might cry. “Please, sir.”

“You can do it.” He sounded encouraging for the first time since we’d met him.

She wiped away a burgeoning tear. I moved my mount close to hers.

“Just shout, ‘Excuse me,’ and wait for people to stop,” I instructed. “Say it twice and they will.”

“Then what?”

“Whatever you want. Tell them the army fights hard every day and will win this war. Or tell them not to buy bread at the bakery where that woman gave us the stale loaf.”

She chuckled.

“Get it done now,” Jaymes ordered. “We’re in everyone’s way here.”

Shara sucked in a deep breath. “Excuse me!” she screamed in my ear.

I didn’t know she could get so loud. Telling her to shout twice was completely unnecessary because everyone stopped, some even jumping from the startle. Luckily, she noticed and didn’t yell it again.

“King Marteph burns our cities to make us afraid.” Many tilted their heads in confusion as Shara paused to drag in a breath. “Thousands of homes have been destroyed by his army, mine in Lanhine being one of them.” I worried she would lose the audience at any moment, but more gathered nearby to listen. “The real terror began when I got to Cessri, only to find out it was the next city to burn. By the time they were done, over half the city was aflame.” Shara’s voice was raw with feeling.

I had to fight down my own emotions as I thought of my aunt stuck in her home, the walls catching fire. I could see the same pain etched on the faces in the crowd. Many had family in distant towns.

“Antilith was the next city I came to…as well as the next target.” People gasped, uncertain whether the city still stood. “And as the enemy army gathered in the western forest, all I wanted to do was run to the capital and tell King Quince to start the sacrifices again. Then I would be safe. Then we all would be safe.”

Commander Jaymes squinted, looking ready to interrupt any moment.

“But this is what Marteph Mallen wants us to do. This is the entirety of his strategy! We need to be unafraid.” There were murmurs of agreement as some people nodded.

“This is no longer a war between two armies. This is a war between kingdoms. Marteph wants to turn us Northerners against our king through fear, but all he’s done is made me join the battle against him!”

I felt a chill as I realized this was the exact truth about me as well.

“It took until Antilith, where citizens like me came together with our army to stand against the South, for me to realize that we’re all part of this battle already. The longer we let them scare us, the more cities they’ll burn. Only once we stand against them will they stop. It’s now that we must choose a side. We can go against our own king by giving in to fear, letting this one emotion dictate the result of this war. Or we can stand together and be intrepid!”

Applause broke out.

“Do your part and spread the word. Let’s make them pay for thinking a little fire will cause us to roll over and play dead. Be fearless. Be supportive. Be resolute, and this war is ours to win!”

Cheering followed as people clapped with wild enthusiasm. A young man about my age ran up to our commander and asked to join the army. Jaymes nodded and gave him directions to the castle.

We had to ride a few streets away before the sound of the crowd receded enough for us to hear each other again. I didn’t know why, but Shara couldn’t stop crying. I wished to put my arms around her but this wasn’t the time for that, not under the commander’s even stare.

“I’m sorry,” Shara said, sniffling. “I just didn’t know I felt this way.”

“The king told me you wouldn’t be fighting. Is this what you want, or is it what Neeko wants?”

It took all of my willpower not to answer for Shara. This was her choice.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” she challenged. “I don’t need to kill in order to join the fight.”

I felt my eyes go wide as I waited for Jaymes to scold her. With her tone, I’d be surprised if he didn’t subtract a whole ruff from her salary. Did we even make enough for that?

I nearly fell off my horse when he smiled instead. “This one time.” He held up a finger. “
One
…
time
, I’m going to let you get away with talking to me like that. And that’s only because you’re new and you’re right.”

Shara let out a relieved laugh that was half a weep. She wiped her eyes. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me until you’ve heard what role I’m giving you in this army.”

CHAPTER THREE

The warden of Glaine’s prison seemed worried after Jaymes Jorgan gave his name.

“Is there something you need from my prison?” the warden asked.

“How many pyforial mages are here?”