He seemed to wait for an apology that didn’t come.
Mouth twisting, he instructed, “Gather your things. Our envoy leaves in minutes.” He turned, as if to dismiss us.
Harthon began to chuckle. There was no humor in it, only dark challenge. My limbs stiffened.
This man hadn’t shown even a shred of respect, never mind the base level of propriety expected by a Princeps. And Harthon wasn’t just a Princeps, but a warrior famous for his ruthlessness. Whatever game this soldier was playing was a foolish one.
But he had some small bit of sense, because he turned stiffly, facing us again.
When Harthon spoke, it was in a calm voice laced with steel. “Is it the ax or the daggers?” The man stared back at him silently, and Harthon clarified, “The weapon you think you can kill me with.”
His jaw worked, and I hoped to the skies above he was considering an apology, because the tension running between them was edging toward violence.
He replied, “I haven’t decided yet.”
I silently sucked in a breath, wondering if I should intervene if Harthon decided to lob off his head. Aric wouldn’t welcomeus if we killed his most valued soldier. Then again, he was practically asking for it, speaking to Harthon like this.
A malevolent smirk cut into Harthon’s cheek. “When you do, my bare hands will be ready.”
The man’s jaw ticked again, and I saw what I’d missed before. Pure, unadulterated hatred. The kind rooted deeply in the soul.
The stoicism was a mask.
“And Torr,” Harthon continued, revealing the man’s name, “you will bow your head in respect to themagvis, or you will choose your weapon right now.”
I prepared for Torr to choose the second option as his impossibly hard eyes slid to me. His thin lips wobbled toward a sneer.
But then he very rigidly lowered his head.
I didn’t say anything in response, as if my words might shatter the fragile peace. When the deed was done, Torr spun on his heel and stalked toward the line of horses being readied.
Joris cleared his throat and Stefano released a breath.
“What did you do to him?” I asked Harthon.
Without any concern, he answered, “No clue. But we’ll find out soon enough.” He pinned me with his gaze. “You will not be alone with him.”
I wouldn’t want to be. But I was still angry with Harthon, so I didn’t give him the satisfaction of agreeing out loud. When he heard nothing from me, his gaze slid to Stefano and Joris, communicating they shared the responsibility.
Then we prepared to travel to Aric’s city center with a man who very much despised us.
Chapter 19
It took two days to reach Aric’s city center, and during that time, it became clear that the only major difference between this Territory and Harthon’s was geography. Fourth Territory was a blend of woodlands, flat fields, and the hills around the city center, while Sixth existed in a low-lying valley bracketed on one side by the mountain range I’d seen on the maps. It acted as a natural border between this Territory and First.
Everything else was similar. The villages were small and modest, and the soldiers who rode with us were organized and well-trained, with tight formations, focused eyes, and systematic efficiency. Even the high walls of Aric’s city center resembled Harthon’s.
Those walls were a reminder that the Territories were once united under one king. While there’d always been periods of rebellion, these realms weren’t built by separate peoples under their own regimes. This was the longest it’d been divided in recent history—something that didn’t bode well for a potential reunification.
I stole a glance at Harthon, who rode beside me. He’d kept a close eye on me, but we’d hardly spoken over the last two days. It was like one of the city’s walls had been erected between us. He’d laid the first bricks when he came to me that morning on the ship, and I’d helped him complete it.
Despite that, I still knew he was the best choice for a king. If anyone could overcome the odds and reunite the Territories, it was this man. And while it wasn’t his primary goal, accessing the resources beneath the Domus would make it a real possibility. Controlling those resources in this withering world would give him near limitless power—a power he might have within the week.
Beyond him, domineering mountains rose like giants from the valley, ragged lines and peaks capped in startling white. We only had to make it past those.
And the people who lived beyond them.
And then into the Domus and back out.
