Page 113 of Given to the Black King

Iona takes the chair beside my map table. Her hair is loose where the sergeant pulled it. Sera took the bloodied silver-gray gown to her workbasket and wrapped Iona in a plain black-country robe. A dark bruise is forming beneath its edge. The cut at her throat is small.

I can smell every drop of blood under the salve.

“Carriage at first light,” I tell Ghenn.

Iona reaches for the northern report.

“No.”

The room stills.

Vess closes the door behind her. Callas and Perr wait near the fire. Neither was invited. Both came when the coast notes were found on the prisoners.

I keep my eyes on Iona.

“The southern road closes by midday. You leave before it does.”

She opens the report.

“Osk has a little over four thousand.”

“Yes.”

“You took Vessel with three thousand.”

“Six hundred still hold it. Four hundred guard the grain road and southern border. I have fewer than two thousand inside the pass.”

“Four hired companies.”

“Yes. His own levies and eastern cousins make eleven hundred. The companies bring him just past four thousand.”

“Three paid with Serathi notes.”

“Which is why you leave.”

She looks up.

“I am the only person in this room who can break those notes.”

“I can break the men carrying them.”

“That costs your soldiers.”

“I have soldiers for war.”

“And I have law for preventing it.”

My claws strike the table.

The nearest clerk flinches.

Iona does not.

“Osk sent men into my hold to take you.”

“He failed.”

“He put a knife at your throat.”