The Shadow Throne
My jaw tightened, and I considered the risks of taking just one swing at him. Fortunately for us both, Kippenger came between us. To me, he said, “Farthenwood is our destination, and there’s no one to blame for that but yourself. You sent a message with an Avenian thief several days ago. It was intended to reach your commanders in Drylliad, but the thief brought it to our king instead.”
I had suspected as much, but only muttered, “I should’ve paid him better.”
“You needn’t worry about that. King Vargan rewarded him very well. In that message, you ordered every spare man to gather in Drylliad. Why do you think we let Mendenwal fight that battle? If you had so many men, it wouldn’t be Avenia who suffered there. You also ordered your gold to be taken to Farthenwood. There’s obviously a trap waiting for us if we go to your castle. But the spoils are at Farthenwood.”
“The message was a lie.” The waver in my voice sounded worried and uncertain. “Do you think I gave it to an Avenian thief truly expecting it would reach my castle? My armies in Drylliad are few and weak, and there is no gold at Farthenwood.”
Kippenger laughed. “Oh, but that message did reach your castle. King Vargan was kind enough to send it on to your regents, after he read it. Whether you intended the order or not, your men are obeying it. Lord Conner verified that your men are collecting in Drylliad and the wealth of your country was moved to his estate, all as your message instructed. I believe you’ve been sunk by your own cleverness.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time for that.”
“You’re reasonably intelligent, and braver than most people I’ve known,” Kippenger said. “But you’re still just a boy. You never did have a chance against us.”
Now wasn’t the best time to argue, but I felt like it. Instead, I kept my mind fixed on what I had to do and glared up at him. “You must allow me some terms in exchange for my surrender. I demand to end this war at my castle and nowhere else.”
“We’ve already met enough of your demands!” Then Kippenger’s voice softened. “Don’t despair, Jaron. There is good news too. My king orders that you not be harmed — not yet anyway. He intends a large audience for your hanging and doesn’t want you to appear injured — he doesn’t want to make you into a martyr.”
That was a great relief, although considering Vargan’s orders ended with my execution, the news could have been better. Still, I promised Kippenger if he gave me a bed to sleep in that night, he would find me there in the morning. The commander agreed to the deal, but insisted I wear a chain at my ankle and have vigils in my tent. It wasn’t a great show of trust, but then again, I wasn’t the most trustworthy prisoner. Once I was given the bed, I almost immediately fell asleep.
The following morning, I was told Avenia would keep the camp for another day to give their men some rest. That allowed me another day before my execution, so I made no objection. I was also offered another livery in the red and black of Avenia, and told it was all they had. I pointed out that it was in poor condition and smelly, and Terrowic countered that so was I, which probably was pretty accurate. When I refused it, he called in enough men to ensure I put it on. I didn’t put up nearly as much of a fuss as I should have. I figured it was more important to save my energy for later, when I’d undoubtedly need it.
Other than a few heavily guarded allowances for me to leave the tent, I was kept chained to the bed, and for the most part, I made no protest. At least it was a bed, and Kippenger was strictly enforcing the orders for nobody to harm me. Admittedly, I took advantage of that and offered more insults than I’d otherwise have dared. The worst anyone gave me in response was a hard kick to my shin, which the soldier claimed was an accident. I couldn’t complain to Kippenger, though, mostly because Kippenger’s mother had been included as part of the insult. Otherwise, I ate every bite of what little they offered me and slept as much as I could. At least when I was asleep, I didn’t have to worry about Mott or Fink or how my soldiers who remained in the woods were faring.
On the morning of Avenia’s exodus from camp, the soldiers left in an orderly fashion. Nearly all of them were on horseback and I wondered what had happened to their wounded, who were clearly not amongst them. Kippenger had given me nothing to eat before we left, even though I smelled food from the fires and knew even the lowliest soldier there had eaten. And he had the chains on my wrists tethered to another chain behind Terrowic’s horse. While the officers and most of the soldiers were riding from here, I’d be walking. Or be dragged if I couldn’t keep up.
“I can’t follow behind Terrowic’s horse,” I protested. “The smell will be unbearable.”
“All horses smell the same,” Kippenger replied.
Kippenger only chuckled and strode away. Terrowic quietly promised that he’d lead me through paths with the sharpest rocks he could find. He probably meant what he said, but then, so had I.
Several times along the way, I asked if our destination was still Farthenwood, to which I only received impolite smirks from whoever heard my complaints. We were moving northeast, steadily toward Farthenwood. Vargan and Conner were probably there already, plotting the next phase in this war. A messenger had been sent ahead. Soon they would learn that I was coming to surrender. Conner was probably ecstatic at the prospect of watching me accept defeat at his former home. That sort of justice would appeal to his twisted nature.
My right leg began bothering me fairly early in the trek. I’d hardly given it the gentle care the castle physicians had insisted upon when they’d removed the brace, and my recent fall from the cliff had deeply bruised the flesh. But despite the pain, I hoped this trek would strengthen my muscles. I didn’t intend to fall from a climb again.
Several miles into the journey, I became bored. We passed a fallen tree along the way that was littered with small rocks. I casually scooped a couple into my hands. When the two men on horses behind me became engaged in conversation, I hurled one of the rocks at the back of Terrowic’s head. It hit him, hard.
He stopped and turned around, but my eyes were already wandering to the views along the trail. When he caught my attention, I shrugged innocently, and then cocked my head at the man behind me, blaming him for the incident.
Terrowic frowned at me, then turned around and continued riding. I waited a few more minutes, and then threw the second rock, hitting him again.
He was ready for me this time and leapt to the ground. He shoved me down, and then raised the whip he had used for his horse.
“Get off me,” I snarled. “Or else after I win this war, I will find you and return tenfold everything you’ve done to me. I want to talk to Commander Kippenger. Now!”
He glared at the men who were still on their horses behind me, then stomped away. A few minutes later he returned with Kippenger, who was clearly displeased at our trek coming to a halt.
“Get on your feet,” he ordered me. “We’re expected by nightfall.”
“At which point I’ll be killed. I’m in no hurry.”
“I should kill you now.”
“I wish you would. Because then I can die with a smile on my face.”