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Chapter 10

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Eamon was striding behind his archers, watching them closely, correcting their stances, and clapping them on the shoulder when they made their shot. He could hear the cheers from the sparring ring and the pounding of hooves from where the others were practicing horseback defensive moves.

Because he was distracted by the sounds of the others, he didn’t hear the other riders approach until his sister called for him. Everyone else stopped because she did not use his title and her voice was strange amongst all the other sounds.

Eamon turned and the others dropped to a knee as she swung off her horse and the rest of her guards followed. They seemed to have barely kept up with her and she had Sweet tied to her own horse, Honey.

“Eamon!” She said and ran for him.

“What is it?” He asked and she reached for him. Her eyes were wide and panicked.

“Alik- is he- is he here?” She asked. She looked around.

“No, I was told he was at the castle-” Eamon said and tried to fight the feeling of panic that was threatening to choke him.

“He is not. I cannot find him. No one can. His guards were told to stay at his room but he has not returned. He was last seen with Issat and she has not been seen either,” Avelina said.

“Margrave?” Eamon asked.

“I came straight to you, I didn’t think to-” Avelina said and swallowed.

“No, it’s fine,” Eamon said and stood up straight. He signaled for Athalos, Reeve, and Clifton to his side. “Clifton, take a large contingent to the city. Reeve, take another contingent to the docks. Athalos, I don’t care who you take, but search the castle.”

The three left and Avelina pulled herself up on her horse and Eamon turned Sweet around and left at a gallop. When they arrived in the courtyard, they both left their horses in the care of a terrified stable boy and headed into the castle. Eamon took the stairs and the wing up to Margrave’s room.

When they turned the corner to his rooms and saw Lady Sexton seated on the stone floor in a gown of dark green, her face buried in her hands. Eamon reached down and hauled her to her feet and when he saw her face, he let her go. Her eyes were bloodshot and her hands shook.

“Avelina-” he said and passed Lady Sexton off to his sister.

He tried Margrave’s door but it was locked. He pounded on it but there was no answer and he watched as the guards behind him scurried to find a key.

Instead of waiting, Eamon kicked it swiftly three times and finally it broke.

Margrave sat in a chair, his feet propped up on the low sill of his window and a wine bottle in his hand. There were half a dozen bottles scattered around his feet and he looked over at Eamon slowly, very obviously drunk.

“My god, you are a large man. One forgets between seeing you at one point-” Eamon strode across the room and lifted Margrave by the lapels of his tunic, “And the next,” he finished.

“Where is he?” Eamon asked.

“In his room,” Margrave said and his head rolled back on his shoulders. His feet were not touching the ground.

“Your Highness, he is not in his room-” a guard whispered from the broken doorway.

“No, of course not, not that room. Not the room where he takes his precious king and kisses him good night and wishes him farewell. No...” Margrave whispered and he opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. “Not that room.”

“What are you talking about?” Eamon asked and shook Margrave. “Where is he?”

“Cor- Cor used to say that he was the war hammer, the mallet, the broadsword to bring down the armies. He said that Alik was the scalpel, that Alik could take down an kingdom from the inside. Their father taught them both at a very young age-” Lady Sexton said.

In Eamon’s hands, Margrave laughed and then he began to cry. He raised one hand to his face and knocked his hood back.

“He carved the truth from people, took them apart piece by piece,” Margrave choked out.

“It ruined him. He hated himself for it. But Cor and Isonei were there to remind him what it was for,” Lady Sexton whispered and buried her face in Avelina’s neck.

“They might still be here to remind him,” Milet said, from the ground on the other side of Margrave’s bed. He also appeared drunk when he pulled himself up. It would have been funny if it were not for the fact of what they were saying horrified Eamon beyond words.

“Why?” Avelina asked. “Why would he do this?”

“He must have figured out what was staring us in the face all along. He figured out that there were spies, probably deep within the castle itself. I imagine he asked Issat for the information. She would have found them since we became complacent as the rumors of the spies leaving reached us,” Margrave said.

“Issat would take them to his room and guarded him while he found out what he needed,” Milet said. “He would have ordered her away but she wouldn’t leave him, not now. Not ever.”

“Where is he?” Eamon repeated.

“The dungeons. Keep going down until you cannot go down any further. When you get to the bottom floor, you will see the torchlight. That is his room. Issat will be there. Please excuse us if we do not go down with you,” Margrave said.

Eamon dropped Margrave to the ground. “Stay with them,” he ordered the guards. A smaller group tried to follow him but he ordered them back.

Eamon followed Margrave’s directions and went down to the dungeons, carrying only a torch. As he went deeper, he encountered more puddles and it became colder. He wished he had thought to grab a cloak. His steps echoed in the dark and he went further down than he thought possible, further down than he carried to think about.

Finally, the steps ended and Margrave was right. At the far end of the hallway was a torch and just like Lady Sexton above, Issat was seated on the ground, her head in her hands. It was a darker echo from above but Eamon recognized the same kind of despair.

Issat didn’t even look up when Eamon approached.

“The keys are in the lock,” she whispered.

“What will he do to me if I go in?” Eamon asked.

“You? Nothing.”

Eamon put his hand on the door.

“They stopped screaming a few minutes ago,” she whispered.

All of a sudden, Eamon wanted nothing more than to turn and leave. Pretend he knew nothing. Beg his friends and family to never mention this again. Beg Alik’s forgiveness.

“I was born under the sun of war. What have I not seen?”

Issat’s soft chuckle would follow his nightmares for days to come. 

The door creaked when it opened.

It was like any other cell in any other castle, with a few exceptions.

The first thing that registered was the smell. Excrement, sweat, fear; it all hit Eamon in the face like a brick wall. He barely held back his instinct to gag. There was so little light that Eamon had to step back out and take the torch from above Issat’s head.

She didn’t even look up.

Alik sat in a single wooden chair facing what was left of two men. When Eamon looked at them, he could see that they were alive, but only barely.

Eamon saw why the others wept when they learned of what Alik was planning on doing.

He had to find a wall sconce to put the torch in before he dropped it and left them all in darkness.

It was too much, even for Eamon, even after all the wars and atrocities he witnessed, it was near impossible for him to reconcile the man he married to the man who did this.

One man opened a remaining eye and whimpered when he saw Eamon.

“King, please-” he whispered and Eamon watched the blood drip from his mouth to the floor.

He didn’t feel himself moving but he was in front of the man, drawing his dagger and giving him a final mercy.

There was gratitude in the man’s eyes as the blood that remained in his body puddled around his feet.

The other man didn’t speak because he had no tongue. What was the purpose of torturing someone and taking their ability to speak away?

Eamon did not have the answers, but it didn’t matter. The second man soon joined the first. Eamon stepped away from the two but did not turn to face Alik.

“Why?” Eamon asked.

“We needed answers. Issat found these men for me and I got the information we needed,” Alik said.

“We have all that we need,” Eamon insisted. He turned and looked down at Alik who was still observing the two men chained to the wall.

“Do we? Did you know that there is a rebellion being built on the Isles by men that no one can see but seem to see all? Or did you know that while Raulyn supposedly plans for his father’s funeral that he gathers his forces for an assault on our very lands?” Alik wiped at his face and smeared more blood across his face.

Eamon didn’t have a reply.

“He has ships behind the southernmost island. They are there to intercept your ships when you move the civilians,” Alik finished. He headed for the door.

Eamon grabbed the torch and followed him.

“He has spies in Evander’s court. King Evander already suspects, but I will send a letter to him right away.”

Issat followed the two of them down the hall.

“Alik-”

“You need to ready the men. I want to begin to fortify the two highest turrets. One for Lady Sexton, Lambin, and Avelina. The second one for me and a set of guards of Milet’s choosing.”

There was an urgency in his tone and his stride. They were already nearing the entrance to the castle. Issat and Eamon were having trouble keeping pace with him.

“There isn’t much time. A day, perhaps. Hours if it’s the absolute worst case scenario. I trust that you can get the men ready in time.”

As they entered the light and the relatively fresh air of the castle and the guards waiting for them caught sight of Alik, Eamon reached out and grabbed Alik’s arm.

“Alik!” He said.

Alik turned and for a very long moment, it seemed like there was nothing but a paralyzing blackness behinds his normally warm green eyes.

“Yes, Eamon?” He asked faintly. He blinked and seemed to register where he was and what he was doing. He looked to Issat and the others around him.

“What is it?” Alik asked faintly.

Eamon pulled his hand away and was not surprised to find that it was damp with blood. Even Alik’s hair was streaked with red.

“Are you feeling... Well?” Eamon asked, floundering for the words he was searching for.

The question seemed to puzzle Alik.

“Of course. Why would I not be?” He asked. He turned to Osonia. “I will need a scribe, a messenger, and a bath. In that order.”

Osonia looked ill but turned when he bid her to.

“You should ready the men. There is not much time. Go, I will be in our rooms,” Alik said and turned.

As he left, Eamon saw that he left bloody footprints in his wake.

When he turned, he saw that there were two footprints, Alik’s and his own.

Issat followed his gaze and then met his eyes.

“I will go find the Princess,” she whispered.

Eamon was left alone with the bloody mess in the hallway.