Dark Court: The Final Hour Read online

  The mercenary disappeared into the woods around the camp. They were good that way, invisible when they wanted to be.

  Chill was creeping into his clothes and he moved around slightly in the glade where they waited. Steam condensed with their breaths. When had it gotten so cold again?

  It took about half an hour before she arrived. In his gut, he’d know she’d be too curious to not take the opportunity to speak. She appeared wearing a long cloak, her hair free-flowing. The moonlight made her look ethereal.

  Two men walked behind her. Not entirely willing to come without guards. Then again, he couldn’t blame her. He couldn’t even assure himself he wouldn’t take her hostage given the chance. Still, she had come.

  “I can rouse my army and take you captive.”

  “That would hardly be sporting.”

  “You put a lot of stock in my sense of fair play.”

  “Has it ever seen me wrong?”

  “What do you want?”

  “I came to speak about a truce. Although I don’t mind battle,” he said, knowing this past battle would weigh heavily on her conscience, “it is unnecessary.”

  “A truce,” she said with lack of enthusiasm. “When we are so diametrically opposed, how could we possibly have a truce?”

  “It is always possible. Especially as I am weakening you,” he said.

  “And I am weakening you.”

  Reports had reached him about some of her men causing trouble inside the citadel. Of course he had ordered them found, but they were well hidden. The loyalty of the men was always something he was wary of, but the generous payment kept the bulk of them content. Some were slipping away in the night, joining the enemy.

  “We’re to face off in a few days. Your men are weak and hungry.”

  “But their hearts are strong.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like this, Ashra,” he said quietly. Taking a step forward, one of her guard did the same. “We can end this now before more blood is shed. Scores of families without their fathers and sons.”

  “You don’t seem to understand that this isn’t about me. I am simply a chosen leader, but this was never about me or what I wanted. I just happen to agree with what they want.”

  “So you wish to destroy everything? That is the only outcome that is tolerable to you?”

  No answer came from her.

  His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, not threatening, but more as a comfortable place to rest. “Tell me what you want and we can find some way of achieving it.”

  “Like I said, this isn’t about what I want. The people here see you as the problem. It wasn’t so defined until you killed Wierstoke, but now you are seen as the enemy they must defeat.”

  “It’s not good statesmanship if you give your enemy no way to bargain. There are ways to avoid further fighting, but you have to be willing to compromise.”

  Her eyes flashed in the moonlight as she shifted, hard to read in the darkness.

  “In a few days, we will fight,” he continued, “and I will win. I have access to the full coffers of the crown to reward my men and this is now a fight to protect the crown.”

  “The guard don’t see it that way.”

  “They will. They are duty bound to protect the crown. It doesn’t matter. Their loyalty is not with you, or they would be fighting with you now. Even if they stay out of this, I will win.”

  “Is that why you came here, to tell me you’re going to win?”

  “I came to negotiate, but you are the one who is utterly unbending. You are the one who won’t avoid bloodshed, and don’t blame it on other people. As a leader, you are responsible for leading.”

  “I suppose you have named yourself liege now?” she asked.

  “Yes. The nobles are returning to court as we speak, and many are bringing more men with them. Things will get worse for you when they arrive. I am trying to save you.”

  “I don’t need your rescuing.”

  “And what about when I win?”

  “If you win. That be the case, then you will do what you must. I have no illusions about that.”

  “Never compromise. That’s always been your motto, hasn’t it?” he said, disappointment flaring in him. Why couldn’t she just give a little, bend a little. It would serve them all. “Then you give me no choice but to prepare for battle. My men are strong and well fed.”

  “Mine aren’t so bad either. We have found ways around your sabotage.”

  “Whereas your attempts are too feeble for me to bother with,” he said dryly. That wasn’t true. He had men chasing the infiltrators that very moment, but she didn’t need to know it was doing some harm.

  In general, he was disappointed in her, but in his heart, he had known she wouldn’t compromise. That hadn’t stopped him from hoping, even if many wouldn’t wish him to do so. It would weaken him to strike a compromise and he would have to work hard to recover from it. But he would have done it—for her. Turns out he didn’t have to.

  Before leaving, he turned back to her. “You preach unity, but not unity for all,” he accused. It was true. Unity was only for her people. It didn’t stretch to the landowners. “It is the reason you will fail. Collectively we are too strong, even if you manage to defeat me on the battlefield—which you won’t. Too many vested interests, and we still have the economic power. I thought you understood that you have to change the system from within. All this bloodshed to prove a point that is ultimately worthless. Is it worth it? Can you really say you make good decisions as a leader?”

  “The compromises you are willing to give are not going to be enough for us. I know that already, so why bother having this conversation?”

  “Maybe for our daughter,” he said, losing his temper. “Maybe she should mean more than strangers. Like it or not, we are family, and you are fighting your family.”

  “Like I said, this isn’t about me.”

  “Cop out,” he accused.

  “This is achieving nothing,” she said and started to move away. His fingers itched to grab her, but knew her guardians would draw if he did.

  This only left him one option—she only left him one option—he would have to defeat her in battle. It wasn’t the solution of finesse he was searching for, but she left him no choice. Perhaps then she would be brought to compromise. Obviously, he would be less giving under those circumstances. He couldn’t afford to be.

  Swearing, he turned and headed away from the glade. The meeting hadn’t gone as he’d expected. Expected wasn’t right the right word as he knew this outcome had been a distinct possibility. It hadn’t gone as he’d hoped was perhaps a better phrase.

  His journey back to the citadel would be safe. Ashra could not bring herself to strike in such an underhanded way, and he trusted his life on that. It was a predictability that made her weak. Not the only thing. Come the next battle, her army would be decimated. People would be more likely to lend their men and resources now that Wierstoke was out of the picture. Everyone needed to ingratiate themselves with the new liege, and Roisen knew exactly how he wanted them to do it.

  Quietly, he slipped inside the citadel and back to his apartments. So all uncertainty was over now. There was only one way forward. In the next battle, Ashra would either be captured or killed, and this rebellion would be over. This uprising would be one for the history books, but it would ultimately fail.

  A wild thought crossed his mind of riding on Greve Manor and claiming his daughter, but he couldn’t bring himself to use her as leverage. Ashra would never forgive him, but it would be an issue he would save for when Ashra was in one of the dungeons down in the bowls of the citadel. Then she would have to choose what role she would play in her daughter’s future. When the game was lost, her children would be the only meaningful thing to her.

  Laying down in his bed, he watched the moonlight’s ghostly glow across the room. Nothing about his family had turned out easy. It was a strange notion, though—family. The more he wanted it, the further away it slipped, but hi
s daughter grew and thrived over at Greve manor, and when this war was settled, things would change. He would bring her here and she would grow to rule. No child would ever be so well endowed to rule based on heritage. Her education would only bolster it.

  Chapter 22

  ASHRA FOUGHT TEARS that threatened to fall as she walked back to camp. It had surprised her when one of the guards came to her and said a messenger had come from Roisen asking her to meet. For a moment, she had considered not going, knowing it would be rough.

  He was such a master at seducing and cajoling, doing anything he needed to get his way. And now he wanted her to lay down her arms. The reason it hurt was because he was trying. If he cared nothing about her, he would never try. It went against his best interest to compromise with her. But she also knew that a compromise would only be a meaningless word to him, simply a means of getting what he wanted. He had no intention of changing anything. A few bones would perhaps be thrown, but he would also ensure that the people didn’t have the chance to rise against him again.

  The problem was that she knew him too well. Him wanting her alive didn’t change who he was. From the very start, he’d been a political animal who wanted nothing but power. The fact that he didn’t want her dead didn’t change that.

  A tear escaped. She’d been fine until he’d mentioned Charis. Ache for her children bit into her heart. The temptation to just give in was so strong, to throw her hands up and let Roisen do as he wished, and she could go home and be with her children. Everyone but her would pay the price.

  By the time she reached her tent, she was angry—angry at the situation, angry at him. Unfortunately, he could well be right in that she wasn’t succeeding in weakening him fast enough for the next battle. In the next battle, they would face a unified enemy led by a much better tactician than her. There was a good chance of defeat, and that could set the ball of fear and doubt rolling, undoing everything they had achieved—completely out of their control.

  As she sat down in her chair, there were voices outside and before long, the head of her guard popped inside. “Mr. Bryce is here to see you. He said it could not wait.”

  “Show him in,” Ashra said, her voice hoarse with lack of sleep. Wide awake as she was, she might as well see him. “I wasn’t expecting you,” she said as he appeared wearing the uniform of a page. That was clever. The pages were completely ignored by everyone. Ashra chuckled.

  “Things are going well,” he said.

  “Roisen Lorcan is aware of your presence. They are looking for you.”

  Bryce’s eyebrows rose as he took a seat opposite the table. “How’d you know?”

  Ashra considered what to say for a moment. “I have my spies.” Bryce would not understand her meeting with Lorcan, so she didn’t mention it. There was nothing to gain by him knowing. “Wine?” Ashra offered.

  “Sure.”

  Grabbing the flask, she poured two glasses. Hopefully it would help her settle into sleep.

  “Not sleeping?”

  “I woke.”

  Bryce considered her for a moment. “It’s going well. There is a lot of interest in defecting.”

  “But not enough ahead of this upcoming battle.”

  “Lorcan is offering a gold reward for this next battle. It tempts quite a few, even those who wish to leave. There are also rumors that our army is starving.”

  “No doubt planted by Lorcan.”

  “He did send soldiers to destroy the supply lines, so there is first-hand experience amongst his troops to back up the statement.”

  “Although it’s not true,” Ashra said. “We’ve replenished our stores. We won’t be hungry ahead of this battle, and we have contingency plans in place in case Lorcan decides to do it again.”

  Taking a deep sip of her wine, Ashra savored the flavor, letting it sooth her bruised heart. “If we win this battle, we will put Lorcan on the backfoot, and the lords and ladies of court will continue to stay away. It will be a blow to his legitimacy. But with a unified throne, they will start returning, eager to solidify their place, irrespective of an army at the door.”

  “Perhaps we should discourage some of them on the way,” Bryce suggested.

  “Some will travel with men.”

  “We can be very convincing.”

  “You are welcome to try, but we really need to focus on this battle. We need to win this battle.”

  “You seem uncertain.”

  “Lorcan knows us better this time. He wants to win at all costs.”

  “Well, be careful because he might seek to dispatch you with as much honor as he did Wierstoke,” Bryce said.

  That was one thing she knew he wouldn’t. He wanted her alive, but she wasn’t going to divulge that either. Their relationship was complex and Bryce wouldn’t understand. Everything was black and white with him.

  Chapter 23

  THE REALM’S PROBLEMS wanted to descend on Roisen all at once. Everything that had been put off for so very long now had someone who could make decisions. Niesen Woord, for how annoying he was, had a great deal of knowledge inside his rather unattractive skull. It wouldn’t serve to get rid of him just now. Part of the man’s defense strategy was to hoard information, making it impossible to get rid of him without some concerted effort beforehand, and Roisen didn’t have time to deal with an entrenched civil servant right now.

  “Where are the guard?” he asked, annoyance barely keeping out of his voice as clerks milled around his study like flies.

  “Guarding the roads. Keeping them safe for travel,” Woord said. “It is a necessary job, particularly now as so many are traveling back to the citadel.”

  There had been reports of a few being accosted on the roads, told to turn back or face the consequences. Ashra was deploying some bullying tactics, it seemed. This only increased uncertainty for him as people began to doubt the control he had. It really was urgent to get on with defeating her.

  “Leave me,” Roisen ordered, and he didn’t want to repeat himself. Grudgingly, they gathered up their papers and scrolls and left. He needed some competent ministers to take care of some of the administrative work of the realm.

  Standing up from his desk, he walked over to the window and looked out. Ashra’s camp couldn’t be seen for the trees, but she was there. In the fields around, he could see some of her numbers practicing their skills—most probably learning fighting skills for the first time.

  It was time to deal with her, to have this final battle where he would crack the back of her army. It was time to end this and send all of these men back to their fields or workshops.

  One of his commanders appeared at the door. And he really needed to get the business of running the realm out of his apartments, having all these people trailing dirt and soil across his pristine floors. Still, it didn’t seem right to sit on a throne and exalt his declarations the way Raufasger had. Some seemed to expect him to act in the manner Raufasger had, as if that was what made a liege. It wasn’t. Withstanding, he needed some staterooms. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to organize it. The court wanted to woo him too, but his focus needed to be on Ashra.

  A discreet throat clearing from the door drew his attention. One of his spies stood there, dressed as if he’d just walked off a field, which he probably had. The man was cunning and intelligent, and completely unassuming to look at.

  “I understand our lovely lady down there is intercepting people trying to reach the citadel,” Roisen said, turning his attention back to the scenery outside.

  “It is actually a man called Bryce. He is the one involved when it comes to their more discreet activities,” the spy said, silently moving closer, but not too close. Spies never liked to be too close.

  “Without her knowledge?”

  “I doubt that. They converse together often. Disagree most of the time, but he doesn’t act against her. Bryce needs her. Their effort would likely fall apart without her.”

  Roisen sighed. In a way, it was knowledge he didn’t want to have. Takin
g her out of this would be the absolutely easiest course of action, but she would never forgive him.

  “For a while, at least,” the spy continued. “Then it could do the opposite, serve as a rallying point. It could be the thing that endears Bryce to them and they would follow him in her name.”

  Yes, there was that, Roisen thought with a sigh.

  “Bryce is her tool, and he seems willing to throw himself into anything. Probably why he didn’t get the following he wanted without her. It’s her they trust. He could be removed. He is always protected, but it could be done,” the spy continued.

  She would hate him for that as well.

  For a moment, Roisen considered what to do. This man could simply disappear. Ashra would see it for what it was, an assassination. It wouldn’t do much to convince her he was little better than Raufasger. The truth was that he himself didn’t mind those tactics so much, but she would be disappointed, and that rubbed him the wrong way.

  Brieton was bringing more reinforcements to bolster Roisen’s army, which made him even stronger for this upcoming battle, so did he really need to deal with someone like Bryce? The man could die on the battlefield in a perfectly ‘honorable’ way—enemies subdued with sheer strength rather than underhandedness.

  “No, leave him, but report on his movements. And hers. That goes without saying.”

  “She doesn’t leave camp.”

  Roisen nodded absently.

  “There you are,” a voice sang into the room and Fiedra appeared. In the blink of an eye, the spy had melted away, leaving only Fiedra in her silk and fineries. “Everyone is waiting for you in the Red Salon. We see so little of you.”

  “I have a realm to manage and a war to plan. I am slightly busy.”

  Fiedra shrugged. “Never too busy for us, I hope? It will do you good to take some time away from the tedium.” She moved closer to the window. “Is that where they are? Funny that little harlot set up right in front of your window.”

  “It is the part of the citadel she knows best.”