Page 55 of Poisoned Kingdom (Secrets of Dagome #1)
Reynard
T wo weeks we’d been trudging through the swamp, and I’d had plenty of time to remember the real drudgery of soldiering.
We’d visited every spot that Sana’s tinkerer had identified on the srebrec merchants’ routes, either bolstering the garrisons with trusted men or, in some cases, building small outposts in the ruins of abandoned villages.
Despite the hardships, I found myself standing taller and even smiling occasionally, though I tried to refrain from the latter after seeing the uneasy looks on my men’s faces.
My kingly duties still followed me, appearing as if by magic in my tent each night, which is why I found myself once again hunched over a portable desk that sat like a child’s toy on my lap.
Still, I felt free for the first time in years, with the problems we faced overcome with blood, sweat, and more than a little cursing.
Life, however, seemed to have other plans for me. The latest reports sat before me, their presence bringing my scowl back full force.
Duke Tivala was building an army.
Even if I took the numbers with a pinch of salt, travelling along the border had given me a clarity the palace never could. The villages we visited were filled with women and the elderly. Their husbands and sons were gone—conspicuously so.
‘That will be a costly mistake,’ I muttered, feeling like a fool.
I’d let the enemy arm himself under my nose, dismissing the old duke’s antics as someone jostling to improve his family’s position.
Now, I had to recognise he wanted more than just gaining power through his daughter’s marriage—he wanted that power for himself.
‘Well, I dodged that arrow,’ I said aloud, rubbing the bridge of my nose. The marriage contract still sat locked in my desk back in Truso. When I returned, it would go straight into the fire. Pacifying the South with an alliance was no longer an option.
Is that why he’s raised an army? Because I didn’t agree to the marriage?
I closed my eye, the dim light in the tent needling at my skull. No—his plans were too far along. This had started before I ever took the throne. It seems I’m not the only one who’d planned a coup. Why else would Tivala have asked my predecessor to grant his duchy principality status?
A loud cough interrupted my thoughts, and my adjutant walked in carrying the accounting ledger. More headaches to come , I thought with resignation, but it had to be done.
I needed to recall the veterans of the Necromancer’s War for the traditional New Year manoeuvres.
As king, it was my right to decide which dukedom would host them—and this year, they’d take place beneath the very walls of Ernesto Tivala’s castle.
A little trick to bypass the law. And when the troops marched out again, the old duke would be in chains.
That would silence the whispers of Tivalaran secession for good.
He might have his peasant army, and even the support of some in the Royal Council, but he was still no match for me. Dagome’s nobles swayed like grass in a strong wind every time I implemented a new law, and that posed a problem, but I still had the fealty of my army.
Those soldiers were loyal to the man who’d brought them back alive from a war no one expected to survive, let alone win.
I looked down at the ledger, my brow furrowing when I noticed an alarming set of figures.
‘I thought we’d stationed troops evenly between the northern and southern borders,’ I said, tapping a line on the page. ‘So why are the losses here so disproportionate?’
The camp in question guarded the passage to Wreckers Cove, a den of pirates and marauders I’d never managed to fully pacify. Still, I’d kept the main roads open for the sake of the honest few who remained.
‘It’s difficult terrain,’ my adjutant said, ‘and there are frequent night raids—small boats, quick strikes. It’s rumoured the Tangra Empire is arming them. We’ve reinforced the output with archers, but it’s hard to fight an enemy that comes and goes with the tide.’
I nodded, the tip of my quill tapping thoughtfully against the parchment.
‘Write to my brother. Tell him to send a unit of dragon riders to help with the patrols. If it’s Tangra, we need to know.’
I had provided Orm with some of my dragon riders to help settle the Ozar Kingdom, but it was time to call them back to service.
The idea of Tangra supplying weapons to criminals across the sea sat wrong with me.
How had that rumour even started, and why would a distant empire concern itself with Dagome’s outlaws?
‘The pirates burn their dead at sea,’ I said. ‘I doubt they’ll mind receiving the honour a little early.’
Understanding dawned in my officer’s eyes. ‘An excellent idea, sire. I should have thought of it . . .’
‘Not so excellent, really. Dragons hate the cold and wet. But if we can tempt them with a little extra gold for a few months and rotate the patrol often enough to reduce their discomfort, we might be able to end this threat once and for all.’ I paused. ‘Any other trouble in the region?’
‘Plenty,’ he said grimly. ‘But all behind Duke Tivala’s borders. We’ve discovered some unusual . . . excavations along the border, and the nearby villages have been swarmed by hostile creatures—biesy, 1 strigae, and worse. It’s as if something drove them from their lairs.
‘The battle mages there are holding the line, but only just. We could send a company of soldiers, but the duke has refused military assistance. And as the law stands, we can’t enter his domain without his permission or the king’s order . . . Would you like us to proceed, sir?’
‘No. But tell your spies to keep their eyes open. I want to know exactly what he’s digging for, and why. Start preparations for the New Year manoeuvres and arrange for enhanced provisions. I want the men ready—for anything,’ I said, stretching back in the chair.
The Winter Solstice Ball promises to be an exciting event .
When I’d decided to hold the ball to meet my future queen, I hadn’t expected it to turn into a feeding frenzy.
It would be so nice if Tivala were involved in the srebrec trade—then maybe I won’t need an army to bring the bastard down, I thought, my lips spreading into a vicious smile . And I will enjoy telling him exactly who was behind his family’s ruin.
I’d never quite let go of my grudge—not since the old fool had refused to send men to fight against the Lich King.
I was drafting countless plans in my head for preparing for battle and dealing with rebellious lords using political pressure when my guard leaned in through the tent flap.
‘Sire, there’s a woman here causing a commotion. Claims she rode all day to get here and won’t leave without seeing you.’
His words caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting anyone—certainly not a woman. My location wasn’t exactly secret, but I’d seeded enough conflicting reports to keep my enemies guessing. Misdirection had its uses.
‘Ensure she’s unarmed, and let her in,’ I said, gesturing for the scribe to clear the table.
As soon as the scribe left, the flap was pulled back, and my guard ushered in a pale, road-worn Roksana.
‘Your Majesty,’ she said, curtsying. The display of manners instantly set me on edge.
‘Leave us,’ I ordered my men. ‘Now.’
As the tent emptied, I noticed the tight set of her jaw, the faint tremble in her hands as she clutched her skirt.
‘Rey . . .’ she breathed.
I crossed the space in two strides, reaching to steady her.
Her breath caught. She tried again. ‘Tova’s missing.’
‘What?’ The word came out harder than I intended. ‘How?’
‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. ‘The dwarven merchants returned two days after our meeting. He went to spy on them and never came back.’
Fuck, I should have someone keep an eye on that damn dwarf, I thought, placing my hands on her shoulders. Her body was stiff with tension, eyes glassy from unshed tears.
‘Tova’s a tough bastard,’ I said softly. ‘And you are not alone, my light. Let me help.’
Without a word, she wrapped her arms around me, burying her face against my chest, her body shaking silently.
My heart stuttered before beating so hard my blood roared in my ears.
We’d shared several intense moments and had had our fair share of bickering, but Sana had never sought comfort from me.
The South, the court, everything faded away as I held my Viper close, stroking her hair.
After a few far-too-short moments, she took a deep breath and pulled back. I reluctantly let her go, already missing the warmth of her embrace. The pale winter sun spilled through a gap in the tent seam, casting her figure in a golden haze while hiding her expression in shadow.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I didn’t know what else to do.’ Her voice wavered, and something twisted tight in my chest. ‘I searched everywhere—tore Truso apart with Riordan and the Brotherhood—but it’s like he vanished into thin air.’
‘Do you think he’s still in Truso?’ I asked, guiding her to sit in my chair and kneeling beside her.
She shook her head. ‘No. That’s why I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. That bloody oath kept me from leaving the capital. If Riordan hadn’t pointed out that the city limits extend into the forest, I don’t know what I would have done.’
I tilted her chin gently, noting the streak of blood trailing down her neck. I cursed. The city limits might extend into the forest, but they didn’t come this far. Roksana must have fought against the oath’s compulsion, convincing herself she was still in the city to come here.
‘Roksana Regnav, you have fulfilled your oath. You are free to travel as you please.’ I blurted out the release phrase, shaking my head at my stupidity, but at least the bleeding stopped ‘I’m sorry, Sanika, I didn’t think . . .’
‘It’s only pain,’ she said, brushing it off with a shaky breath. ‘It doesn’t matter. I need you, Rey. Please. I’ll do anything if you help me find him.’