The men are in heavy hooded cloaks, and combined with the dark and the rain, I don’t recognize them.
Their crossbows are plain as day, though.
There are only four of them, but they’re all well armed, and we aren’t. At my side, Nook is still clutching that dagger, but he’s holding it up in front of him, as if it’s going to stop the bolt of a crossbow. Bert must have grabbed an ax from the floor of the wagon, because he has one clutched in both hands. Reed has me half blocked, and I can sense more than feel Thorin still behind me.
One of the cloaked men gestures with his crossbow. “Lay down your weapons. We’ll take the king, and the rest of you can go unharmed.”
I recognize his voice, but I don’t place it until Thorin says, “Lennard, I wouldn’t expect you to turn on the king for silver.”
“I’ve seen the proof of what the king was doing. So have you, Reed.”
Proof.I need to know what “proof” they have—because I’ve never poisoned anyone. I have no idea what the consuls are telling the people that could have swayed opinion this quickly.
I’ll probably find out from a cell in the Hold.
Hopefully not while I’m hanging from a rope in the middle of the Royal Sector.
“Any proof they have is false,” I say. “You were sworn to me. This is an act of treason. You will lay down your weapons.”
One of the other men draws back his hood, and I recognize Wadestrom, another one of my guards. His crossbow is steady, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he looks at the rebels standing beside us. “You three have nothing to do with this. Lay down the weapons and get out of here.”
Beside me, Nook is shaking, but he doesn’t move. Neither does Francis.
Bert is the one who looks like he’s wavering. His breathing is shuddering.
“If you lay down that ax, he’ll shoot you in the back,” says Thorin. He’s glaring at Wadestrom, and he sounds disgusted.
The third cloaked man says, “Our word is good. We only came for the king.”
I recognize his voice, I think. Jarrett. Another guardsman.
Bert whimpers.
“Don’t do it,” says Reed.
“My wife is waiting for me,” Bert whispers.
“Don’t put down that ax!” Thorin snaps.
“They likely killed our reinforcements,” I say.
“We let them go,” says Wadestrom. “Because they had the sense to lay down their weapons.”
Bert throws his ax to the ground, then turns to run.
Wadestrom shoots him. Bert makes a small sound, and his body crumples in the rain. It sets off a chain reaction of activity, because Nook cries out and tries to run next, but Wadestrom shifts to shoot him, too. Thorin tackles him around the waist, and the shot fires wildly, just as Francis gives a shout of pain from somewhere to my right. Another cloaked guard aims for me, but Reed shoots first, shoving me out of the way before I can even lift my crossbow. I slam into the mud and go skidding into the midst of the melee. My weapon bounces into the darkness as men shout and other bodies drop, and I lose track of what guards and attackers still have a bolt left.
But then I realize Nook has slipped, scrambling in the mud, and Lennard has his crossbow aimed at the boy.
“Hold,” I say sharply—then I aim a kick right for Lennard’s ankle.
The guard hesitates, then stumbles when my foot cracks into his leg. It earns Nook a fraction of a second—enough time to get his feet underneath him. He splashes into the flooded part of the path, hopefully cloaked by darkness.
But Nook isn’t the real quarry here, and I’m in the mud with no weapons. Lennard lets him go, turning to level that crossbow at my throat.
Behind him, Reed and Francis are lying motionless in the mud. So is Jarrett, who has landed crookedly, his cloak falling across half his face. A short distance away, Wadestrom and Thorin are wrestling for control of a crossbow.
The fourth cloaked man is still standing at a bit of a distance. I can’t see his face at all. It’s too dark, the rain too heavy. Like all my guards, he’s tall and carries himself like a soldier, so there’s no clue to be found there.
He’s the only one who hasn’t said a word, and he raises his crossbow to aim at me, too.
I sit up, glaring at them both. I should be afraid, but I am simply filled with so much fury, so much resentment. “I will not surrender to you.”
Lennard looks at the nameless guard, then over to where Thorin is still struggling with Wadestrom. “Kill Thorin. And Reed, if he’s not already dead.”
I’m so shocked by this that I almost can’t comprehend the words. “No,” I say. “No.”
To my surprise, the cloaked guard is shaking his head, too. “No. I said we could take the king. That’s all.”
And then I recognize his voice. The cloak slips back a little, and I see the edge of his jaw, a bit of his blond hair. This is Sommer.
He is young, probably the same age as Corrick, probably one of the youngest of my personal guard.
Honestly, he seems like he’s starving.
I should have paid closer attention when Reed said that the consuls had stopped their pay and frozen their accounts. I should have considered how that would affect my guards.
“They were with him,” says Lennard. “They’re not going to let us take him.”
Sommer swallows so hard I can see it. He looks from Reed’s motionless body to Thorin to me, but he doesn’t move.
I consider that he didn’t move before.
He didn’t shoot—and he could have.
“This is treason,” I say. “You know this is treason, Sommer. They’ll turn on you, too.”
“Kill them!” Lennard snaps. “You want a part of the reward, you’d better earn it.”
Thorin is struggling underneath Wadestrom, but he must hear what’s going on, because he calls, “Don’t listen to him, Sommer. We came to you because you were loyal—”
“Shut up!” Wadestrom snaps, and he tries to punch Thorin. They scuffle in the mud.
“Lennard will kill you as well, Wadestrom,” I say. I keep my eyes on Lennard, because it’s clear now who orchestrated this, even if I don’t know all the maneuvers yet. “Though I rather doubt any of you are getting silver out of Sallister or whoever is promising it. They’ll say we were working together and throw you right in the Hold with me.”
“Fine,” says Lennard. “I just need to bring back your body.” He looks down the line of the crossbow.
I suck in a breath. Time stops. I hear the snap, then the whistle.
I wait for the impact, the pain, but none comes. Instead, Lennard cries out and falls to the ground. A crossbow bolt is buried in his stomach.
Another snap and whistle, and a second bolt appears in the side of Wadestrom’s rib cage. The man collapses, sliding off Thorin.
My head whips around, and when I turn, there’s Saeth. He has a crossbow in one hand and a dagger in the other. A little girl is strapped to his back, soaking wet and shivering, her hands pressed tight to her eyes. Nook is behind them both, half soaked in mud.
“Can I look yet, Da?” the little girl says, her voice bright and innocent.
“Not yet.” Saeth snaps another bolt into his crossbow, and then his aim shifts to the last remaining guardsman. “Put it down. Now.”
But Sommer doesn’t lower the weapon. He’s breathing fast, and he looks from Lennard to Wadestrom and back to me. His face is so pale beneath the hood, his expression a bit stricken.
I put my hands in the mud and push myself to my feet. My heart is pounding, making it hard to breathe. I thought the revolution was the worst part. The consuls working against me. But I was wrong.
It’s this.
“For nothing but silver?” I say, and my voice is rough. “Really?”
“No—no, Your Majesty. It wasn’t—” His voice breaks, just a little.
“Don’t be such a baby,” Lennard growls from the ground. He’s curled around the bolt, and his voice is strained. “Just shoot him. He left us like this. He’s going to kill you—”
Thorin has made it to my side, and he kicks him in the shoulder. Lennard cries out, then coughs blood onto the ground.
The girl gives a little yip.
“Not yet, Ruby,” Saeth says, his voice as calm as if we’re not surrounded by bleeding bodies and traitorous guards. “Just put your head down.”
The first time I spoke with Tessa, she kept challenging me about the state of my people. She kept insisting that I couldn’t judge people for doing what they had to do to survive. I stare at the men surrounding me, all of whom swore an oath to me once, and I still don’t know if that’s true.
He left us like this.
Do they feel like I abandoned them? Like I was poisoning my subjects, then abandoned the most loyal ones to starve?
This isn’t at all what I expected to find. I want to reverse time and begin this night again.
No, if I had that power, I’d reverse time and begin my entire reign again.
Sommer has gone a shade paler, maybe at the sight of the blood, at the realization that he’s the only one still standing.
“Forgive me.” He throws down his crossbow and runs.
Saeth raises his arm to shoot, and I grab hold of his sleeve. “No,” I cry, aghast.
He looks at me. “Your Majesty. He’ll find others.”
My stomach rolls. I feel like I’m going to be sick. Over his shoulder, the little girl is peeking through her fingers at me.
I wish I had my brother.
Corrick has an edge that you lack.
I want to press my hands into my own eyes.
Thorin sees my hesitation. “I’ll bring him down,” he says, and without waiting for an answer, he sprints into the darkness.
I inhale to issue an order to hold—but I can’t. They’re right. My stomach gives a violent clench, and for a terrifying moment, I’m worried I’m going to be sick right there in the muddy clearing. But Saeth has already turned to Nook, who’s staring at everything with wide eyes, and he’s giving the boy clear orders.
“See if Francis is breathing,” he’s saying. “Get him on his back. I’ll check Reed.” He looks toward the trees and whistles, then raises his voice. “Leah!” he calls. “You can come out.”
A moment later, a woman in sodden skirts comes through the trees. Her blond hair is in a long braid, and she has a baby strapped to her chest. She’s got a crossbow in her hands, too, and her eyes are fierce. Her gaze skips across the bodies on the ground before landing on me. She swallows, then looks at the trees.
“Adam,” she says. “Are you sure there aren’t more?”
“No,” says Saeth, which isn’t encouraging. He drops to a knee beside Reed for a moment.
“Is he all right, Da?” says little Ruby.
“Just sleeping. Put your head down.” He only kneels there for a moment before he stands, and I meet his eyes.
He shakes his head, then says, “Two to the chest.”
This was supposed to be easy. Simple. I want to be sick again.
“Francis is breathing,” says Nook. “I think a rib is broken, though.”
“They’re going to find you,” Lennard says to me. He winces, bracing a hand against the arrow in his gut. “They’re going to find you, and they’re going to make you regret what you’ve done to your people.”
“I haven’t done anything to my people,” I say.
“The instant they found proof, you ran! You hid.”
His words hit me like a fist. It’s not just the words, though; it’s the betrayal in his tone. Is this what everyone thinks? Is that how the consuls have spun this?
The last night I was in the palace was the same night Arella Cherry and Captain Huxley tried to speak to the people about how I was poisoning them. The night patrol chased me through the woods, and I ended up in Violet’s barn, where Quint found me with Thorin and Saeth. We’ve been hiding ever since.
Maybe the consuls didn’t have to spin anything. It’s exactly how this looks.
“Your Majesty,” Saeth says quietly. “We shouldn’t remain here.”
I hear what he’s saying. He’s urging me to make a decision.
I don’t want to make it.
At my side, Saeth is still pointing that crossbow. His voice is grim. “On your order.”
My breathing is tight and shallow. I’ve never done this part. This has always been Corrick’s role. I don’t want to be a part of it. It doesn’t feel brave. It doesn’t feel cowardly either. It feels horrific. My stomach clenches again.
Lennard’s eyes shift to Saeth. “We were friends. We were friends, and now you’re going to shoot me.”
“You’re a traitor.”
“In front of your daughter? Do you know what they did to her?” His voice darkens. “Do you know what they did to your wife?”
“Da?” Ruby squeals, her tiny voice breathless.
“Head down,” Saeth snaps.
“Adam!” Leah cries from across the small clearing.
Everyone thought my father was such a great king, but he was never forced to make choices like this one.
Maybe that’s my own fault.
Our choices are our own.
The little girl is crying against Saeth’s shoulder now, and her hands are wrapped around his neck, but he hasn’t moved. His jaw is tight, but he’s still waiting for my order.
I don’t deserve this kind of loyalty.
I put out a hand. “Give me the crossbow.”
Saeth jerks his head around in surprise, but he obeys. The wood and steel of the weapon slip into my hand.
“Go,” I say. “Stand with your wife.”
I don’t wait to see if he moves. If I wait, I won’t be able to do this at all.
“I didn’t leave you,” I say to Lennard. “I was coming to get you. I’m sorry I wasn’t sooner.”
He spits at my boots and swears at me. “I hope they hang you.”
I pull the trigger. The snap is loud and seems to echo. The bolt goes right through his chest, and his body jerks.
It seems like he glares at me forever before the life burns out of his eyes.
I don’t realize I’m on my knees beside him until the cold mud is soaking through my trousers. He didn’t deserve this. None of them did.
“Forgive me,” I say, and the words are thin and barely audible. My voice breaks, and I realize I’m crying. Not just for my guards, but for Bert, for Reed, for all of them. Everyone I’ve failed. My muddy fingers press into my eyes. “Please. Forgive me.”
The rain strikes my hands like icy needles, shrouding me in silence.
“Your Majesty.” Saeth’s voice, just behind me. “Thorin is back. I’ve sent Nook to assess the wagon.”
I have no idea how long I knelt there, but I jerk my hands down, grateful for the rain for the first time. Lennard’s body is sprawled on the ground in front of me, his eyes wide and dead. I’ve seen every horrific thing Corrick has ordered, but this is the first time I’ve done something myself. My stomach rolls again, and I catch myself before I can gag too badly, then force my legs to stand.
Francis is on his feet, too, staring at me. He’s got a hand clutching his side. I can’t read his expression, and I don’t want to. I can’t decide which is the most humiliating: knowing he watched me kill someone, watched me cry over it, or watched me nearly vomit on the body.
I want to ask if he still feels like his people are ready for action. This was only a handful of guards, and he wanted to take on the entire Royal Sector.
Between last night’s coughing fit and tonight’s failed mission, I rather doubt any of them will follow me anywhere at all.
A flicker of motion to my left makes me look over, and I realize Thorin hasn’t just returned, he’s also forcing a bound Sommer to walk in front of him. My heart nearly stops.
I’ll bring him down.
I didn’t expect him to bring the guard back alive.
But of course he did. I didn’t give an order to kill him yet.
I take a breath and see stars. I can’t do this twice. I can’t.
As soon as I have the thought, I realize that my brother did it more than twice. He did it over and over again, for years.
I remember Tessa’s rage on the night I found them both in the Wilds, when I had no idea what my brother had been doing as Weston Lark.
He’s trying so hard to protect you, but you have to know it’s destroying him.
I didn’t know it was like this. I watched it time and time again, but I didn’t know.
I should have known.
When they draw close, Sommer takes one look at Lennard, then at me, and his face goes white. His feet stop so suddenly that he almost skids, and he drops to his knees. “Please,” he begs. “Please.” His voice breaks. “Your Majesty. Please.”
Corrick must have listened to pleas like this for years.
I stoop and pick up the crossbow from the mud, then snap another bolt into place. The click of wood against steel is loud in the rain.
Sommer chokes on a sob. “Please. I didn’t want to. I just needed the silver. I was out of food, and no one—no one—” His voice breaks again.
My chest is so tight that it’s hard to breathe. My guards didn’t deserve this. I hate that Allisander and the other treasonous consuls have put them in this position.
I stop in front of him. “Who else did you tell?”
He shakes his head fiercely. “No one. No one, Your Majesty.”
Even if he’s telling the truth, the others might have spread the word before coming here. Saeth is right; we can’t remain. It’s probably already been too long.
The crossbow is slick in my palm. I can barely think over the pounding of my heart. We came to fetch more guards, and now we’re going home with fewer people than we started with.
I force my racing thoughts to organize. I wish we hadn’t come. I wish I had Quint and his little book because he’d surely have an idea for a way to talk me out of this.
But maybe that’s exactly the solution I need. We wanted information from inside the Royal Sector. Maybe I can get it another way.
Is this cowardly? I don’t know. I don’t care. I can’t do this again. I can’t.
When Corrick orders an execution, sometimes I don’t think I can watch, and I have to think of my parents, the betrayal they faced. It helps me chase the emotion out of my chest. It helps now.
Regardless of Sommer’s situation, he still made the choices that led him here. People are still dead because he betrayed me, too.
I lift the crossbow until the point touches his neck, and he cowers back into Thorin’s legs, slipping a little in the mud.
I don’t yield. “If I leave you alive, you will answer every question I have about everything that has happened since the instant I disappeared from the palace.”
“Yes,” he gasps. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“If you try to escape, if you spend one moment fighting my people, if I suspect one single lie, you’ll wish I made your death quick and painless right here. Is that clear?”
He nods, then winces as the point of the arrow presses against his throat. “Yes,” he whispers. “Yes, I swear it.”
I look at Francis. “If we bring him back, do you have men we can trust to keep him under guard? A place we can keep him secure?”
The man’s eyes go wide. “I think so?”
“I need to be sure, Francis. If he escapes, he’ll bring down the whole army on top of us.”
He nods. “Yes. I’m sure.” He swallows hard. “I’ll guard him myself if I have to.”
“Good.”
Nook is climbing up the hill, a little breathless. “I led the horses out of the water. The wagon lost a panel from the side, but the axles are solid.”
I lower the crossbow from Sommer’s neck, then look at Thorin. “Gag him. Bind his feet once you’re in the wagon. We’ll need to keep him low in case we run across the night patrol.” Then I look to Saeth, standing with his young family. His wife still hasn’t met my eyes, and I honestly can’t blame her. “Recover whatever weapons we can salvage,” I say, “as quickly as you can.”
Little Ruby still has her face pressed into her father’s shoulder. “Is it time to open my eyes yet?” she calls, her voice like music in the rain.
There are still bodies scattered on the ground. We haven’t won a battle. The looming war feels impossible.
Never, I think. But that sounds bleak and fatalistic, which are horrible qualities in a king. I’ve already failed in enough ways tonight. I turn away to head for the wagon myself. “Hopefully soon, Ruby,” I say, filling my voice with a conviction that I hardly feel. “Hopefully soon.”
After a while, the rain eventually lets up, clouds beginning to clear from the sky. The moon beams down on us, which isn’t a blessing, because it makes everything more visible. I keep waiting for another arrow to strike the wagon. Every muscle in my body is tense, and I’m simultaneously desperate to be back in the Wilds yet also dreading it. We thought we’d be bringing back a minor victory, and all we’re carrying are stories of death and failure. I think of the way Quint used to spin news from the palace, but there’s no way to spin any of this.
We’ve learned that there was a fifth guard in the woods, the one who was first shooting at us. Saeth and his wife stumbled upon him almost by accident. Then they found Nook as he was running down the hill.
It might be the only reason any of us survived.
This was all too close.
The wagon rattles loudly in the night air. Everyone is silent, even the children, as if they can feel the weight of it all. Thorin drives, and I’m right behind him, against the wall again, bracketed by hay bales. It all seems silly now. Saeth tried to sit in front of me once he unstrapped his daughter from his back, but I waved him off and told him to sit with his family. Now Leah is tucked against his side, nursing the baby to keep him from crying. She has one hand clutching that crossbow, and she still hasn’t met my eyes. I keep thinking about what Lennard said before he died. Do you know what they did to your wife?
The gravity of those words weigh down on them both. On all of us. There will be a time for Saeth to know, and likely a time for me to know—but it’s not right now.
Little Ruby leans against her father’s legs, fiddling with the laces of his boots while we rattle along. She’s glanced my way several times, and I try not to think about the fact that she very likely watched everything we did, including the way I collapsed in the mud, my hands pressed into my eyes while I cried. I have to look away.
Sommer sits bound and gagged in the corner of the wagon. We put a cloak over his shoulders, the hood up, so his features are in shadow. If anyone sees us, no one will notice unless they get close. He seemed genuinely terrified in the clearing, but Lennard looked determined. So was Wadestrom. I need to know who’s been talking to the guards, what’s been said, what’s been threatened.
But right now, there’s just . . . too much.
Francis is keeping his word, and he’s watching Sommer like a hawk. Nook is on my other side, his arms wrapped around his belly like he’s trying not to shiver. Or maybe like he’s trying not to cry. I think his father was among the men who didn’t make it back onto the wagon, and I’m afraid to ask. I wouldn’t know what to say. Everything I could say would sound too hollow. I know from experience.
Maybe all the silence is too much to bear, because the little girl eventually abandons her father’s boot laces and begins to edge through the straw toward me. Saeth immediately notices and says, “Ruby. Stay with me.”
She frowns, but I say, “It’s all right.”
Emboldened by this, she shifts forward until she’s sitting on her heels in front of me. Until these last few weeks in the Wilds, I haven’t had much exposure to children since I was one myself. Aside from the fact that she’s not a baby and she’s not a teenager, I’m a bit startled to realize that I truly have no idea how old she might be. Three? Five?
However old she is, her blue eyes are surprisingly cool and assessing as she regards me. I suddenly feel like I’m being confronted by one of the consuls. “You made Mama cross,” she says.
Leah gasps. “Ruby.”
Saeth swears under his breath. He’s already rolling onto his knees to snatch her back. “Ah—Your Majesty—”
“Your daughter may speak her mind.” I glance from the little girl to the woman who’s finally looking at me with guarded eyes. I don’t know what they’ve been through before tonight, but I know they didn’t deserve any of it.
My eyes flick back to Ruby. “I’ll do my best to make it up to your mother. And to you.”
“And baby William,” she adds solemnly.
“And baby William. I swear it.”
“And my da.” She points. “His name is Adam.”
“Ruby,” Saeth says.
But I nod, because she’s being so earnest. “Your entire family. You have my word.” I look to the others on the wagon and take a slow breath. “Truly, I swear to all of you.”
Ruby scoots closer and peers up at me. I wonder what I look like. My clothes are filthy, and I can see mud caked in my knuckles. My face is surely a mess.
“I saw you crying,” she whispers. “Are you very sad?”
She’s so young, and the words shouldn’t pierce me like an arrow, but they do.
Yes, I want to say. Yes, I am. My breath catches—once, then twice. It’s a miracle I don’t start crying again this very moment.
At my side, Nook puts his face down against his knees, and a small sob breaks from his throat. It’s clear I’m not the only one.
“All right,” says Saeth. “That’s enough.” He scoops Ruby into his arms, and she squeals in protest, but he kisses her on the forehead and says something quietly.
She wraps her arms around his neck and nods, then looks at me over his shoulder. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“You’re welcome, Ruby.” I look at Saeth, and I have to hesitate. My chest tightens again, and my voice feels dangerously close to breaking. I have to wait to make sure it’s steady. “Adam, I truly will do my best to make it up to you.”
He shakes his head, then settles back into the straw beside his family. “You already did.”
But Leah’s eyes flick up, finding mine in the moonlight. She says nothing, but the message is clear.
It might be true for her husband, but it’s not true for her.
