The Shadow Throne

“Why’s that?”

“What punishment will you get if you fail to arrive with me? They’ll beat you harder than you could ever beat me here.”

“You are more obstinate than your worst reputation.” He tried again. “Now, get on your feet.”

“You can knock me unconscious or drag me to my death, but I will not walk any farther. Get me a horse.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re a prisoner.”

“I’m a king. And I demand to be treated as such. Get me a horse.”

Kippenger licked his lips, and then turned to Terrowic. “He’ll use your horse. Help him up, then see that it’s tethered to mine.”

Terrowic’s eyes darkened, but the order had been given and the commander was already marching away. He grabbed me from the ground and all but threw me onto his horse.

In his anger, Terrowic had neglected to remove his pack from the horse’s saddle. Once we were under way again, I took advantage of that. He had a container of water, some dried meat and biscuits, and a few apples. When I finished the first apple, I made sure to toss the core over my shoulder and hoped it hit him on the head too.

Other than what was necessary for the care of the horses, we took very few breaks throughout the journey. Still, it was dark when I first saw the lights of Farthenwood in the distance. Once we got closer, I saw that a gallows was being constructed at the front of the home. Two nooses were already in place. One was for me. I didn’t know who the other was for.

At the far end of the property were several Carthyan wagons, under heavy guard. Most of them were covered, but the corner of one had come undone and flapped in the breeze. The moonlight lit the gold inside the wagon. As Kippenger had said, the wealth of Carthya was here indeed.

Kippenger personally verified the chains were still firm around my wrists, which I thought should’ve been obvious by the way the metal had worn sores into my flesh. When he was satisfied, they pulled me off the horse and made me wait while someone informed their king I had arrived.

I was once again amazed by how little Farthenwood had changed since my last visit here. Certainly to attend Vargan, the grand estate was filling with people, but they couldn’t have been here long. Other than the gallows and the gold-filled wagons, the home itself seemed no different.

Eventually I was led inside. On my first trip here, I had also been a prisoner. Escorted in with more courtesy and fewer chains, but a prisoner nonetheless. I hated the thought of having to face Vargan here. Vargan would gloat over his victory, humiliating me as I signed papers that preserved the lives of my countrymen, giving us peace, but at the very highest price. And Vargan would be sure I knew every detail of what would happen tomorrow, the day of my execution. That was intolerable, but it infuriated me to know that Conner would be here too. He had wanted the throne from the moment he became a regent. He had murdered my family and expressed his regrets that I hadn’t been amongst his victims. And he was willing to turn Carthya into a feeding gallery for the Avenian vultures, just so he could wear a crown and pretend that made him any sort of a royal.

I was taken to Conner’s office, or perhaps it was considered Vargan’s office now. Conner’s wide desk was gone, as were his books and other decorations. Over the past several months, nearly everything of value had been stripped from this place. Vargan rose from a simple wooden chair that must have been intended as a temporary throne. Conner was already standing behind him, arms folded and dressed in all his former finery. He appeared to have aged considerably in the prison, but now, with his hair washed and combed neatly back, he looked rather distinguished, a weak facade for his rotting soul inside.

Vargan immediately spoke. “You gave yourself up, Jaron. Why?”

“I needed medical supplies for my men.”

“Are you surrendering?”

My jaw tightened. “Call it that if you’d like.”

“Then you will kneel.”

I had known this was coming, but my muscles instinctively locked against his command. It was not in me to kneel to another ruler.

Behind me, Commander Kippenger took exception to my hesitation. He kicked behind the knee of my right leg, which immediately buckled. I collapsed to the floor, and when I tried to rise, he pressed his foot down on my calf, ensuring I maintained a kneeling position.

“Very good,” Vargan said. “The terms of your surrender are this. I will be the emperor of these lands. Carthya will become a tributary to Avenia. One half of everything Carthya produces will be sent to me. Carthya will be subject to my commands and my laws, but the people will be allowed to maintain their own customs under the leadership of King Bevin Conner.”

“Then we have a problem,” I muttered. “Carthya has no customs regarding enslavement, especially to a country of swine. That puppet who stands beside you will be overthrown before the year’s end, and Carthya will rise against Avenia until we are free again.”

“Perhaps they’ll try,” Vargan said. “But you won’t be here to see it. The final term of surrender is that you must go to the gallows.”

“Not here.” I shook my head. “I am a king. If you will do this, it must be at my castle in Drylliad.”

“Yes, Commander Kippenger told me of your objections. But I’ve already gone to the trouble of having the gallows built here. And besides, I know you intended Drylliad as a trap for me.”

“Not for you specifically,” I said. “Let me live until Conner is made king and tries to make his home there. I wish to see what my soldiers do to him upon his arrival.”

“Your soldiers have been notified of the surrender and were summoned here to Farthenwood, unarmed, to witness your execution,” Conner said. “A special command was sent to Lord Harlowe and his regents to attend. From the gallows you will order their loyalty to me, and they will agree, or follow you to their graves.”

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine Harlowe’s reaction when he heard of this. Harlowe would never agree to follow Conner. By the end of tomorrow, he would be dead too.

“The papers of surrender are being drawn up even as we speak,” Vargan said. “You will sign them at first light and die immediately after.”

“That doesn’t give me much time, then,” I said.

“For what?”

My glare began at Conner, then moved back to Vargan. “Not much time to win this war. You two had better spend tonight preparing your souls for the devils’ lair. Because after tomorrow, that’ll be your home.”

Kippenger jerked on my chains, forcing me to my feet. Vargan raised a hand to strike my face, but slowly lowered it.

Conner said, “I’ve reserved a spot for him in the dungeons. Jaron will know the place well.”

And as had happened months before, I was dragged from the room. But this time I did not go kicking and screaming. I was taken away without breaking my glare from Vargan’s face. I might have been the one in chains, but he was the one who looked afraid.

I’d had the key to my chains folded in my palms since Terrowic first pulled me off his horse. I had expected him to protect it better since I’d already stolen his keys once before, but he was so angry when he grabbed me that he didn’t even think to check his pockets. I had hoped they’d leave me alone in an upstairs room long enough to make an escape there, but they didn’t. Besides, as far as I could tell, I was without friends anywhere at Farthenwood, so my escape would be brief and my recapture painful.