As I always do, I imagine the joy he would have had in seeing all the warriors gathered together, cheering and laughing and eating Rihad out of house and home. Merritt should have competed in the tournament, the feted son of the Tenth House. Instead, he died in a lonely vale outside the Shattered City, pierced through by an arrow shot from the bow of Rihad’s assassin.
Why? What power could the creatures of the Western Realms have promised the lord protector such that he was willing to betray his house, his land, the Imperium itself? What promises had been made? What covenants?
“You’re thinking about your brother.”
I look up with a jolt, then blink as Fortiss lays down his impromptu meal. A flagon of wine, a loaf of crusty bread, a part of stewed fruit so aromatic it sets my stomach growling. I reached for the wine to cover the sound as Fortiss drops down next to me on the bench.
“Not just Merritt. All of them. So many warriors here, and more sons upon the road to Trilion—killed without a second thought for their families, their Divhs. More still tonight, where the darkness he summoned was targeting the fathers of those fallen warriors.”
“None of them died,” Fortiss points out. “From that perspective, the attack was a failure.”
“It depends on the goal.” I reached for the bread, the fruit, anything to keep my idle hands busy. “If Rihad had simply wanted to sow fear, or renew it, in the hearts of men who had not seen the worst he was capable of, he certainly succeeded there.”
I glance at him. “What did you say back there, to Rihad? Do you know what that name meant? Sahk-whatever?”
“Sahktar,” he says, munching around his own chunk of bread. “And—not at all. But when I said that name, Rihad definitely retreated into himself, blocked himself in. It took aspell of vitality to rouse him back to his normal state. If that’s what normal passes as these days.”
“If he could rouse himself completely, he would,” I tell him again. “He’s still damaged. There’s no other explanation.”
“Maybe,” he agrees, taking a long drink of wine. I press my hands into the steady reassuring wood of the tabletop, willing my fingers to stop trembling
It’s not just the troubling topic that accounts for my nerves, but sitting here alone with Fortiss, quiet in the night. In all the weeks since the Tournament of Gold, this hasn’t happened. Whenever we’ve worked together, there’s always been a councilor present, stacks of books and guards. Villagers with petitions or information to share, runners from the nearest houses with reports of support or fresh waves of criticism and concern. In all that time, we could have easily stepped away to have a quiet conversation, to share the simple connection that he so easily expresses with his guards and staff. But he didn’t offer, and I didn’t ask, and the days slipped into weeks. I focused on my training with Nazar, and he focused on stitching the Protectorate back together.
“What did Tennet say to you?” Fortiss finally asks.
I sigh, grateful for the question that had to come at some point. “They were warnings mostly. First that we would be attacked, secondly that I would be an agent of betrayal, but whether I was betraying the Protectorate, our Divhs, or the interests of whatever dark force sent the message, I don’t know. It all ran together, almost like poetry, but with an edge that threw it all out of balance.”
“I saw that Miriam brought you quill and paper after I summoned the other councilors. You wrote it down for her?”
“I wrote down two versions,” I tell him honestly. I reach into my tunic and pull out a folded page. I offer it to him, but he gestures to the table, still eyeing me closely.
“You don’t trust her.”
“I don’t trust anyone who was that tied up with Rihad, not yet. Do you?”
He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t even know if we can trust Tennet now that this thing’s poison has mixed with his blood. It’s bad enough that I’ve started sampling the magic from the Western Realms. I did so with protections in place. Tennet had no time to protect himself before that attack.”
I frown, poking at the folded-up sheet as I try not to think about Tennet’s eyes as he spoke those strange words to me. “I don’t know that he was anything more than a channel. I don’t think he knew what he was saying. It certainly wasn’t in any cadence I’d ever heard him use up to that point, for all that I’d just met him hours before. He doesn’t seem to recall anything that he said, let alone understand it. Right now, he’s mostly concerned with not feeling like he’s been flattened by a sandworm.”
“I wonder how many other secrets the other houses are hiding. Surely the Tenth and Twelfth Houses are not the only ones who have hit on the idea of lying to save their sacred sons.”
I snort. “Well, to be fair, we’re more cut off than most of the houses. Most everyone else has reason to come to Trilion, to barter and buy, to share their stories and deepen their connections with the First House. Up in the mountains though, visitors are few and far between, and it’s easier to sow the seeds of lies and nurture them into a protective hedge.”
“He seems quite committed to the idea of honoring the contract struck between his father and yours.”
The words are quiet, uninflected, but the tension sparks between us, coiling and dangerous. “A contract that I had no interest in or awareness of, other than to save the honor of my house,” I retort. “I’ve found a different way to do that. So he can find another wife.”
“He could find no one better.”
I blink up at him, startled, and somehow, he’s leaned even closer to me, his eyes flashing dark in the shadowed room, his lips soft as his mouth quirks into a smile. “He kissed you,” he murmurs.
I make a face. “That was no kiss. He knew you were watching him. He just wanted to see your reaction.”
“I think mine wasn’t the only reaction he was interested in.”
“Well, if you were paying any attention, I didn’t kiss him back.”
“I noticed that too.” He’s leaned even closer now, and there’s no mistaking his intent. My heart surges in my throat, my fingers are pressing so hard into the tabletop there’s no doubt they’re gouging the wood, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be. “Why are you trembling, Talia?”
