Two guards stood at the top of the stairs, each holding a spear. They appeared to have been waiting for them, and without a word, one gestured for them to follow. They walked through the castle, which appeared plain and open compared to the earthen beauty of the caverns. At last they reached the lord’s hall, which was just the throne, two benches, and many, many guards.
“Kaide,” the lord of the caves said upon their arrival, standing to greet the man.
“Arthur,” Kaide said, bowing low. Jerico did likewise.
Arthur was a tall man with a heavy beard. When he stood, it was with the perfectly straight posture of a man who had spent years among fighting men. His green eyes were youthful, though his beard betrayed a hint of gray.
“I see you have brought a guest,” Arthur said, his deep voice booming in the enclosed room. “Greetings, paladin of Ashhur. I ask the privilege of your name.”
“Jerico of the Citadel, your grace.”
“The Citadel? I’ve been hearing rumors of its collapse. Is there any truth to the matter, or are the peasant- folk spreading lies?”
“No lies,” Jerico said quietly. Arthur’s face softened.
“Accept my condolences. No man should lose his home. Perhaps some other time you may tell me the story of how it happened, if you even know it.”
“If you wish, milord.”
“Forgive me for the intrusion,” Kaide said, “but matters have pressed me beyond courtesy. Sebastian has gone too far, Arthur. His knights descended upon Stonahm, killed many, burned our crops, and raped our wives and daughters. Twice now he has brought ruin to my home, and I will stand for it no longer.”
Arthur sat down on his throne, plain wood stained a dark brown. His hand stroked a crease in the wood, a habit of thought.
“I have never denied my brother’s occasional brutality,” he said, sounding distracted.
“But this is beyond that. This was unprovoked, nothing but a vicious display to enforce his rule. Stories of it should be reaching your hall very soon, if they have not already. I’ve sown with gold and coin a hundred seeds of rebellion, and now is the time for them to sprout. The people are ready to rise against him. They just need a name, a leader to call them to action.”
“And I wonder, why is that not you?” Arthur asked, leaning back in his chair. “The common folk love you. They tell stories of such generosity that show either they are mad to believe them, or you are mad to have done them. You would have me depose my brother, and then what? Set you up as a lord of some sort? Hand the realm over to you, so I may return to my caves? Or will those same people yearning for rebellion find the stories changed, so that I am now the villain?”
“I seek vengeance against Sebastian,” Kaide said, struggling to remain calm. “That is all I desire. You know this.”
“Aye, I do. And I know that vengeance is blinding, and once it is met, a hole remains. What will you see when your sight returns?”
“I’ll see my daughter,” Kaide said softly. “The one Sebastian’s men ravaged only two weeks prior. My men will lay down their arms, and we will return to our homes. I’ll fill that hole you speak of with the love of my Beth, the only child I have left of my precious wife. My wife, whom your brother killed. Do not doubt my loyalty, my aims, or my honor. It is you who should have ruled the North, you who could have prevented all of this. I ask that you do so now.”
Arthur pressed his knuckles against his lips as he thought. His eyes flickered between the two of them. Jerico felt the air about him thicken, and the guards seemed nervous. No doubt Kaide speaking of Arthur’s denied inheritance was a grievous breach of protocol.
“Sebastian has thrice my number of soldiers,” he said at last. “He has all the coin, all the wealth, and all the land. Can your simple villagers make up for that? Can they wield weapons on a battlefield, pay for our food, and lay siege to the Castle of the Yellow Rose?”
The slightest smile curled at Kaide’s lips.
“Just because we might not win doesn’t mean we are wrong to fight. Claim your inheritance, Arthur.”
Jerico’s mouth dropped a little. He couldn’t decide if Kaide had learned from what he’d said, or simply felt like using it because it furthered his cause. The paladin almost felt betrayed, though he knew it silly to think so.
The words had their effect on Arthur, though, far more than they had on Kaide. The lord sat up straighter in his chair, and he motioned for his guards.
“I will need time to think on this,” he said. “For you have given me much to think on. Until then, you will stay as guests in my castle, and have what little comforts I can afford. Sir Cyan, please, take them away.”
“With me,” said a dark-haired man, stepping from behind the lord’s throne. “I’ll escort you to your rooms.”
Their accommodation was simple, but acceptable, with the two to share a room. They flipped a coin to see who got the bed, Kaide winning. Jerico eyed the coin, suspecting trickery, but Kaide refused to say either way, denying the paladin the chance to know if he spoke truth or lie.
“Do you think Arthur will join us?” Jerico asked as he spread sheets across the cold floor and began taking off his armor.
“He’s easily manipulated, so long as you can tug at his sense of honor. Your earlier words did that pretty well, I think.”
“Nice to know I was needed.”
Kaide chuckled.
“Consider yourself emotional support. That, and having a paladin at my side does wonders to elevate my own status in the eyes of Arthur. Trust me on that. It makes it harder for him to see me as just a rugged, lawless bandit.”
“Even if that is what you are.”
“You’re free to leave at any time.”
Jerico fluffed his pillow, then lay down on the floor to test its comfort. It was far from comfortable.
“One day,” the paladin muttered as Kaide took out the coin and rolled it across his knuckles, mischief glinting in his eyes. “One day, I’ll take you up on that.”
11
“Why have we come here?” Darius asked as high above the stars twinkled.
“And you complain of my questions,” Velixar said, walking beside him. “Surely you can think of why we return.”
Before them stretched the town of Durham, Darius’s place of teaching for over a year. It was there he had tended his flock, and there he’d first met Jerico. A hundred memories flooded him as the two walked through the quiet streets. Time had erased the bloodstains, but not the vicious claw marks across the many buildings. Wolf-men had torn through the village, and Darius had stood against them, side by side with Jerico. They’d been heroes, he knew, and his name was retold in stories all throughout the North. He thought of that night, and of the pure calm he’d felt at Jerico’s side. There’d been such a wonderful simplicity to it all. The wolves had been his enemy, Jerico his friend, and together they fought until death.
But what would Velixar have called for? And what did he want now?
“Is it because of Jerico?” Darius dared ask.
“Everything we do, in one sense or another, is because of him,” Velixar said, frowning. “Because of your failure to kill him, to be exact. If you’re to ask questions, learn to ask better ones.”
They stopped in the center of town. Darius looked to homes, seeing a surprising number of new ones. After that night, he’d talked with Jerico of the survivors, merely a third of what they had been. Still, they had rebuilt, and now slept in peace, though he wondered how many dreamt of dark shapes crossing the river, yellow eyes glinting…
“I wish you could sense it,” Velixar said, closing his eyes and lifting his arms to the sky. “Even in death, the
