Page 6 of Of Blood and Banes (The Arterian #2)

WHOM I’M SPEAKING TO

S ethan and I argue over what should be done about Darian with Daeja lingering behind me.

Her rigid posture silently challenges Sethan to say the wrong thing or take the wrong step.

Eventually, we settle on a shaky agreement that Darian will stay in the dungeon untouched for the night. We can discuss more tomorrow.

After I persuade Daeja I’ll be fine returning to the town, we part ways.

Sethan escorts me back to the healer’s quadrant in a painful silence.

After he leaves, Marge tends to my once-again-ruptured sutures with whispered scoldings.

In the middle of clenching down on a rag and digging my fingernails into my palms to stay silent while the other Arterians sleep, I finally agree to take it easy.

After the liquid burning in my ribs subsides, I stretch out the tension in my jaw and sleep.

The next morning, a group of soldiers usher all of us Arterians out of the rebels’ healer’s quadrant. I’m not the only one disgruntled by the guards surrounding us, herding us like sheep down the cobblestone streets of Midkeep as passersby watch us with stunned intrigue.

We wind down several busy roads, bumping shoulders with one another as the guards keep us in close formation.

We’re led to a massive stone building near the center of the town, its tile roof spanning higher above the rest of the multi-story homes and shops surrounding it.

Four other soldiers stand guard at the building’s… entrance?

It’s in the style of a drawbridge. Except, there’s no moat or anything to cross.

The thick, heavy wooden panel lies flat on the busy cobblestone street.

I lean forward to peek across the other two Arterian squad members on my right to exchange a confused look with Archie, who shrugs with splayed hands.

Just as I turn to scan the rows of Arterians behind me for Melaina, a rebel soldier barks, “Keep it moving!”

Our tightly formed squad—with no option not to—follow the rebel soldiers surrounding us over the drawbridge door, past the four guards, and into the large building.

The cavernous stone ceiling spans at least sixty feet up into crisscrossing beams with dragons of all shapes and sizes carved into the rock faces. Long, rectangular tables stretch out in front of us, with at least thirty seats on each side of them.

As I scan the room, not a single thing is made of wood. All of it is made of stone. Even the windows lack drapery. Instead, thick iron bars cage the outside of the windowpane with the glass itself being a hazy shade of gray.

Despite the ample amount of sunlight washing in through the two-story tall windows aligning the entire western and eastern wall, several sets of iron chandeliers are strung across the length of the room, their flames flickering with a quiet serenity.

On the farthest wall from us, beyond the tables, is a colossal fireplace that nearly steals my breath. Positioned at the head of the table, directly in front of the fireplace, is Sethan. Already he has his soldiers filling the seats closest to him as he stares down the long table.

Directly at me.

A drop of sweat rolls down the back of my neck.

“You just say the word and I’ll quit pretending like I can’t take them all out in one breath,” Daeja chimes in my head.

I bite my tongue to keep myself from snickering as I hold Sethan’s gaze and push away my nervousness. “This building we’re in is made of stone and iron. I have a feeling it was built specifically so it couldn’t be burned down.”

“Oh, and you think that’ll stop me?”

The soldiers surrounding us part, and the screeching sound of metal grinding against each other has us all whip back to the entrance. The drawbridge closes with a thunderous slam .

“Take your seats,” Sethan commands, the room naturally amplifying his voice.

Underneath the watchful, heavy stares from Sethan and his soldiers, we all shuffle into the available seats at the table by Sethan’s. As I settle into a seat next to Melaina, Archie leans over from the other side of her and flashes a toothy smile.

“Good morning, sunshine!” He’s completely oblivious to the tense hostility hanging in the air between our group and the rebels.

Nolan looks like he’s about to burst out of his damn skin while Gavin pulls him down into a seat.

Meanwhile, the soldiers posted near the walls have their hands already bracing their weapons.

The few rebels who sit at the same table as us scan our expressions like we may explode at any second.

As if one wrong look or movement may splinter whatever morsel of peace we are currently holding on to.

Tawny sits across from me, her eyes meeting mine, and a part of me relaxes.

Something tells me I can count on her to keep her people in check—even if it’s so obvious they detest us.

Servants appear out of a hallway in the far corner of the room and begin to distribute plates of steaming food to all of us.

“Welcome to the Midkeep community hall! How are you feeling?” Tawny’s gaze darts down to my side as someone sets plates in front of us.

I follow her gaze down to my ribs and gingerly touch the area where bandages wrap around my torso, hidden by thick black layers of winter clothes she gifted me yesterday.

“You’re going to need these for later, ” she’d said.

As if I didn’t need them currently. Now that we’re in the dead of winter, and this far north? It’s cold enough to freeze the hells over. The clothes I had back in Arterias wouldn’t have been enough for the chill here.

I smile, peering up at Tawny. “Good, I think. And…thank you for the clothes.”

“If you want to thank me, convince the rest of your group to accept our help. The least they can do,” she glances over to Gavin and Nolan, her nose wrinkling as she beholds the stains mottling their clothes, “is change into something clean. We have more than enough clothing and food to share with everyone.”

Nolan shifts his attention from the untouched food on his plate to Tawny, his brown eyes narrowing. “We don’t need to smell and look like you. I’d rather parade around naked than be associated with you barbaric, traitorous excuses for people.”

Tawny arches an eyebrow, her expression teetering between anger and amusement. “Oh, really? Then by all means,” she waves her hand in the air, “parade. You have a lot of nerve speaking to me like that, you?—”

“Tawny,” Corvin warns farther down the table.

I can’t help my own sense of disgust and anger piquing when I recall last night’s events and how merciless Corvin had beat Darian. How easily he pulled the whip back and struck him. How Darian’s blood dripped from his fingers.

Maybe I’m not so hungry anymore.

I scan the room for Darian, my mouth growing dry as I begin to accept he isn’t here. It’ll be a conversation I need to have with Sethan.

Tawny growls at Nolan, “We are trying to show you kindness?—”

Nolan leans over to spit across the table in her direction, and it lands directly on the back of her hand.

Oh…fuck.

When she flicks her gaze up from her hand to Nolan, her eyes burn with an unkempt fury.

Everyone explodes into action.

Rebel against Arterian.

Tawny shoves up from her seat as she draws her sword from her side.

Nolan snatches his plate off the table, dumps the food onto the floor, then wields it like it might be a serviceable weapon.

The servants muffle shrieks as they scurry away from us, and the guards at the walls rush in.

I hold out a hand to Tawny to keep her from attacking, and the rest of the people at the tables draw their weapons, sliding metal ringing in the air as sword after sword is unsheathed.

Nolan lunges across the table at Tawny as Gavin dives after him, barely catching a fistful of his shirt.

Nolan climbs over the stone table and drags a muttering Gavin with him.

Melaina snatches the front of Nolan’s shirt and rips him down off the table with a vigor that would make any father proud.

His back hits the stone tile floor with a shudder.

“What are you doing, Nolan?” she spits as she pins him down.

Archie scrambles out of his seat and draws one of the forks from the table.

It’s too bad they hadn’t decided to trust us with knives yet.

I scan the other Arterians around us, finding Cole several seats down near the entrance.

He breaks up a fist fight between an Arterian and a rebel as other guards crowd in.

Tawny, thank the Gods, has the self-control to still be watching from the other side of the table as Melaina wrestles to keep Nolan still.

My discipline is wearing thin as I keep reminding myself I promised Marge I’d take things easy.

I’m lucky enough the first two splits in my stitches haven’t led to a serious infection or immediate death.

And I’m not trying to test the ‘third time’s a charm’ theory.

Considering Marge throws me a pointed stare from across the room, she’s thinking the same.

“Oh, so now that daddy is their leader, you’re on their side?” Nolan snarls at Melaina. “You’re just as much of a traitorous bitch?—”

Melaina slams the side of her forearm into his throat, cutting off the rest of his sentence. “Watch your mouth!”

Nolan swings a left hook, connecting with the side of Melaina’s jaw and spinning her off him. Archie drops onto Nolan, straddling him with ease before pressing a fork to his throat. Got to give the man some credit—at least he’s resourceful.

“Stop!” a deep voice rolls over across the room as loud as thunder.

All of us freeze, turning to the front of the room where Sethan stands. Even Nolan has the sense to discontinue his fighting.

Sethan clears his throat, scowling as he rakes his gaze across the room. “Need I remind you all of what’s at stake here? I will not tolerate this childish bullshit. One more outburst, from any one, and you’ll be thrown into the dungeons. Is that clear?”

He looks at Tawny, waiting for a response. She dips her head and sheathes her sword. The rest of the rebels follow suit, sheathing swords and daggers before settling back into their seats.

Leaving us Arterians still standing.

Sethan then settles his attention on me. “You,” he jerks his head over his shoulder, “come.”

I can’t help but look over my shoulder to make sure he isn’t referring to someone else. My gaze skips past the other Arterians to Cole, waiting for him to step forward. My skin heats as everyone turns their stares onto me.

Oh Gods…not Cole. Me.

“Now!” Sethan barks.

I flinch before hesitantly turning and following Sethan and his guards out of the room through the hallway the servants came and out a side door to the streets.

We wind through the town wordlessly, and I glimpse Daeja’s black figure following us from a distance where the streets spill out into the forest blocks away.

Every townsperson watches her pass street after street, their stances all rigid with wonder.

Despite her keeping a comfortable distance between us, I know if things turned south, she could reach me within the blink of an eye.

The awareness of which settles my nerves.

Even Sethan’s guards positioned around us toss her wary glances.

“Tell her you’re not in danger,” Sethan calls without looking my way.

I snort. “I will not tell her of which I do not know.”

“Tell him he’s the one in danger,” Daeja growls.

“I’m not sure he’d be keen on threats…when did you wake? How long have you been following?”

“Long enough to keep an eye on you.”

We arrive at another large structure at the northern end of Midkeep—the same one I’d first met Sethan at and found out Darian was a prince.

Sethan leads me into the building, with two of the guards staying outside and the other two following us in.

As one of the guards closes the door, Sethan stalks around to the other side of a large mahogany desk and swivels to face me.

His hands are tucked behind his back and out of sight.

Something about it makes my fingers dance anxiously at my hip, where my sword should be.

Sethan stares at me. So completely still he could convince anyone he’s a figment of imagination. I’m starting to think this is his technique of intimidating others into his will.

“What?” I ask finally. “I don’t play silent games. What do you want?”

“You need to get your people?—”

“ My people?” I laugh. “I’m not the captain here, Cole is?—”

“Don’t you interrupt me, child. They are just as much?—”

“First of all, I am not a child.”

He growls and slams a fist into the desk. “You need to practice some self-discipline.”

I take a half-step back before I snap, “And you need to learn to speak to me with respect. I will not be spoken to like this—I’m not a child. I’m a grown-ass woman.”

“Then act like it,” he snarls.

“Excuse me? I was just trying to stop you while you were ahead—you’re talking to the wrong person. I am not their captain.”

“I know to whom I am speaking.”

“Then you should know, one, I’m not a child. So, stop referring to me as one—it’s not going to make me listen to you. Nor will it make me respect you. And two, Cole is the one who commands this squad. Not me.”

“Yes, you are,” he says with a tight tone that conveys a deep frustration, despite his mask of cool apathy.

“No. I’m not. What do you not understand about that simple statement?”

“What I don’t understand,” he clenches the wooden lip of his desk until his knuckles turn almost white, “is why in the Gods’ names you’ve been chosen.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You mentioned that last night, too. What makes you think I’m this so-called ‘chosen one’?”

“The prophecy.”

“Well, you must have things wrong. I don’t know what prophecy you’re talking about, but I can assure you, it’s not me.” I turn away from him and take a few steps to the door.

The soldiers cross their swords in front of me.

Sethan says behind me, “Do you think this is what I want? What any of us want? We’re all relying on you, Katerina.

It could have been anyone else, but for some unknown reason, it’s you.

You are the chosen one, whether or not you like it.

And if you sit idly by, more innocent people will die.

The King will slaughter all the dragons.

And all their blood will be on your hands. ”

I swivel at the threat of people dying on my behalf. “You just said it yourself. It could have been anyone else. Maybe it is someone else—maybe you’re confused. I’ve come to the Dragon Lands to live in peace with my dragon. I’m not here to fight in your war.”

He clenches his jaw, working and failing by the second to disguise his frustration.

“I am not confused. There is no one else but you. The elders translated the prophecy, and it stated Arterias would be restored by air and night —who else could that possibly ,” he spits that last word out, “be? Your dragon is a moon dragon. Air. And. Night.”