Vincent
“Hyas, what the fuck is going on?” I shouted, unable to keep my composure. We faced three massive wooden crosses in the courtyard, inclined at 45-degree angles with you, Stefan, and Anika strapped to them. Even in the gray light of dawn, I could see other injuries as well. My fists clenched, and my temper flared. I’d kill them all.
“It was Azrael’s request,” Hyas said smoothly. “The Angel of Death does enjoy a little theater.”
“Release them immediately,” I said, wishing I had a fraction of your or Lucian’s abilities. When Lucian saw Stefan, he’d have their heads.
“You know your honorable Henri did this and much worse in his day. The Romans were particularly fond of crucifixion. At least we didn’t use nails.”
“That was thousands of years ago, and that doesn’t make it okay.”
“The technologies change, but war stays the same. There are conquerors and the conquered. Masters and the enslaved. All men hunger for battle, and Henri is no different.”
“Henri has repented.” You’d told me yourself that your time spent in that hellish Shade Vale had cleansed you of your thirst for violence. And even now, you only took a life when you felt that you had to, and never for pleasure.
“Has he though?” Hyas continued. “I think he’s only shown you his softer side. Because he doesn’t wish to frighten you. But there is a bloodthirsty savage under that handsome veneer. He is your mother’s son, after all.”
“As am I.”
“But you don’t enjoy killing, Vincent. And that’s why I’d like to appeal to your gentler nature. In the brief time I’ve known you, you seem far more sensible than the rest of your blood-thirsty kin.”
I tried to keep the panic and fear out of my voice. “Why would you do this, Hyas? When we’re so close to a victory, why would you turn on us like this?”
He sighed as though bored by my questions. “It’s our father’s fault. He refuses to choose a successor. He’s left it up to Aretha and me to determine who will lead, and quite frankly, she hasn’t been very generous as of late.”
“I was the one who threw the tournament,” I admitted. Maybe I could still convince him to change his mind.
“Yes, we figured that out. And Aretha refused to compel you. She didn’t think it was politically wise, but she’d promised me your alliance, and when deals are brokered behind closed doors, what other recourse is there?”
“I’ll form an alliance with you. I’ll swear to it in front of the entire Tribal Council. You can have me, publicly, and take ownership of all of my lands. Just walk away from whatever this is.”
“I’m afraid the time for deals is done.”
There was a commotion at our side. Lucian and Aretha were being led into the courtyard. Aretha wore iron shackles attached to both her wrists and her ankles. Lucian was gagged but not blindfolded. When he saw Stefan, he went a little berserk, and in his eyes was that cold fire that reminded me of our mother.
“He’s going to destroy you for this,” I said lowly. Lucian was bucking against his captors and raging, out of control in a way I’d never seen before.
“I’m not going to give him the opportunity.”
“And your sister,” I said. “She’ll never forgive you.”
“I’m done asking for her blessings. They are rare and seldom given freely.”
“It’s better to work with us than the Angel of Death,” I said. Surely, I could appeal to his pragmatism. “Azrael will betray you, and the other tribes will turn against you.”
“Azrael’s been banished from the holy realms. Thirran has taken over his duties in continuing the human life cycle, which means the Angel of Death is on my turf now, and we have an understanding.”
“What understanding is that?”
“He takes custody of my sister and your brothers, and I halt our assault on the Imperium. We part ways with what we have. Everybody wins.”
“And what about me?”
“You are mine to command. You and your lands, of course.”
“You’d be better off defeating him when you have the chance. Letting him go will only ensure a future war.”
“Maybe,” Hyas mused. “But at least I’ll have the full backing of the warborn behind me. Any decisions I make will be my own, not some fool’s compromise with my sister.”