“Sauven and Ralinbor were half brothers and the best of friends. Then Sauven took the throne and realized some people thought the wrong Savaric had entered the Eagle Roost. Ralinbor’s maternal uncle was one of them, so Sauven accused him of treason and had him beheaded. Ralinbor turned on him and marched into Kair Toren with his army. He was killed, his rebellion was put down, his wife was brought to the capital in chains, tried and executed, and his only son died in the fire set by the king’s knights.”
“That about sums it up,” Reynald said. “Ralinbor of the Wilds inherited the power of Exultant Call from his father and the affinity for the dursans from his mother. He tamed them, and he called on them in battle, which was how he got the name ‘of the Wilds.’”
The idea was horrifying. “How did he lose with those things on his side?”
“They have magic and they’re powerful, but they are still creatures of bone and blood. They can be killed. Fatefire can cut one. So can a weapon coated with Rageglow.”
Wow.
Reynald shrugged. “Ralinbor didn’t lose his war on the battlefield. He lost it weeks before, when he failed to adequately equip his troops, neglected to put together a functioning supply chain, and chose the wrong place and time to engage his enemy. He counted too much on the dursans, but they are just animals. No matter how powerful a magical beast is, it’s no substitute for proper planning and strategy.”
A stone bench waited across from the statue, on the other side of the path. I sat on it. Reynald joined me.
“Why is it here?”
“This statue was commissioned by Wynand Bors’s father, Sagred,” Reynald said. “He’d managed to kill a dursan single-handedly during the conflict, and he was very proud of it. He presented this monstrosity to Sauven on the first anniversary of the battle. ‘Behold the mighty enemy we vanquished.’”
“But Sauven didn’t want a reminder of his dead brother,” I guessed.
“So Sagred Bors found out,” Reynald said. “Sauven would’ve loved to set it on fire, but he’d needed the Conquerors’ support, so he had it put somewhere in the Tangle.”
The Tangle was the collective name for the northern slums. The last place Sauven would ever visit.
“Someone must’ve realized that it had been defaced. It was still a royal gift, so it was carted off and must’ve ended up here. I’ve never seen it before. I’ve only heard the story. This was before my time.”
The dursan glared at us, scarred, stained, and yet defiant. I had the strangest feeling. A kind of vague anxiety, as if I were looking at a sign of things to come.
“It’s fitting that it’s here,” Reynald said quietly. “Ralinbor’s mother and his uncle were his only living relatives besides Sauven. Ralinbor died on the battlefield. His wife was tried, convicted, and beheaded. His son perished in the fire when Sauven’s personal guard set Kair Tred on fire. Everyone is dead now. It stands here as a monument to the fallen family.”
“I’m not so sure,” I told him.
He gave me an odd look. Like he was both amused and admiring. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Reynald Karis, the ice-cold blademaster of Rellas, found me endearing.
“What?”
“I’m not even surprised anymore,” he said. “Tell me more, Maggie.”
Somehow, he loaded a lot of meaning into my name. Was I reading too much into this?
“I know of a boy who woke up in a burning house to the shouts of his enemies in the courtyard.”
It was one of those random Latour scenes. No hint when or where it took place. No names. No explanation as to why it was in the narrative. It was just there to drive the fandom out of their minds with speculation.
“The house was engulfed in flames. He couldn’t get to the window, so he hugged his puppy and ran into the hallway through the fire. The burning boards collapsed under him. He fell three floors, all the way into the stone cellar, landed badly, and passed out from pain and smoke. Two days later, when the knights who’d set his home on fire were long gone, a man rode up to the still-smoking ruin. He searched through the wreckage and found the boy in the cellar. The boy’s legs were broken, but he’d kept the puppy safe in the fall. The man took the boy and his dog with him because he was the child of a woman the man once loved, and he raised the boy as his own son.”
Reynald pondered the statue. “Do you think the boy was Mirabor Savaric?”
“I don’t know. I can’t say either way. But he could’ve been.”
That was my personal pet theory. It would so much more interesting if Ralinbor’s son survived.
“Who was the man, do you think?” Reynald asked.
“It’s hard to say. Aelis Savaric was supposed to be so beautiful, her smile could stop a heart. Many people were in love with her.”
The sun broke through the clouds, and I turned my face to the warm sunshine.
“Are your parents alive?” he asked.
