Page 7 of The King has Fallen (The Kingdom of the Krow #1)

~ MELEK ~

I picked up the chair with her still on it and turned it to face the end of my bed since I didn’t have a table big enough to spread out multiple maps. Jann grabbed the rolled parchments from the trunk in the corner and began spreading them out on the end of the bed.

The Fetch tilted her head, frowning slightly as each was unrolled and pressed flat.

When Jann had finished, he stepped back to stand shoulder to shoulder with me. We both folded our arms and watched her examine the maps together.

Unsurprisingly, her scrutiny didn’t last long then she turned to look expectantly at me.

“Perhaps you’d like to share with me where your troops are positioned?” she asked dryly.

Before Jann could answer, I put a sharp elbow into his ribs. “Tell her nothing that is not already public knowledge. Don’t tell her what you know, or don’t know. We need everything confirmed without her interference if we’re to know if she’s telling the truth.”

She turned her head to glare at me from her seat. “If I don’t know your position, how am I supposed to advise you on my guess for the best route through the swamplands?”

“Tell us your best choice—or choices. We’ll determine which would best suit our position,” I growled.

She stared at me flatly for a moment before she opened that mouth. “I have revised my assessment. You are as stupid as your King—”

Jannus spluttered in an attempt not to laugh. I shot him a glare.

“—first you want me to speculate on bringing troops through the most dangerous wetlands on the continent, then I’m supposed to know all the ways? Without numbers or positions? Did the Fallen intentionally exchange brains for brawn, or was that a curse of God for your ancestor’s rebellion?”

“Melek is very strong,” Jann said quietly.

I shot him a withering look.

Her eyes warmed when she looked at Jann and went cold when she gazed at me.

“I don’t understand… Have you truly just… overwhelmed everyone to this point? I cannot believe the Tuskarrians aren’t putting up a fight if your strategy is simple brute strength. Then again, if this is the mental sword you wield, no wonder you aren’t getting anywhere. The Zaryndar are going to flay your skins from your bones the moment they have your—”

I kicked her chair so it hopped and pivoted so she was almost facing me, then leaned down over her, gripping each of the arms and making myself as big as possible to loom over her, seething.

“You were not asked for your opinion on our intelligence, or the King’s. You were asked to suggest a path through the swamps. My advice, which I have no doubt you will not listen to, would be to set that clever , obnoxious mind of yours to highlighting the risks of any plan you propose. If I lose one Nephilim to an ambush on the back of your advice, not only will I kill you slowly, but I will raze your land, making certain every one of your people hears that you were the one who brought my vengeance down on them.”

She paled, but her eyes never left mine, and she did not shake. “You set me up for failure, then threaten to punish me when you are not adequately prepared.”

“Then make sure you do not fail. I’m certain with your superior intellect , you’ll figure something out.”

“We’ve taken Noctharrow Haven, but haven’t entered the swamps yet,” Jannus said quietly from behind me.

I hissed and whirled on him. “I told you not to—”

“Please, Melek. I would like some sleep tonight. And if she’s as knowledgeable as you think, she could save us weeks if we approach it correctly. Besides, we’ll check the routes. She won’t fool my scouts… even if they are simpletons,” he added quickly, winking at her over my shoulder.

She gave a little huff of husky laughter, and I rolled my eyes.

“You may be surrounded by idiots, but I am surrounded by children,” I sighed to her.

“Well, since your King is a toddler, it’s hardly surprising,” she said with a shrug, as if I’d been serious. I ground my teeth, but Jann pulled me back a pace and stepped up to her chair.

“Look… uh… what was your name?” he asked carefully.

“Yilan,” she said after a moment, as if he’d shocked her.

“Yee-lawn? What a beautiful name.”

She shrugged. “It’s a family name.” But she smiled.

“Lovely… well, look, Yilan , I know Melek storms around like cat that got thrown in the bath, but the truth is, he’s not always stupid. And sometimes he can even be quite kind and insightful if you don’t taunt too much. The trick is to watch for the vein on the side of his forehead. When that starts pulsing, it’s best to ease off.”

Yilan rolled her lips together as if she were stopping herself from speaking, but she was smiling brightly and her eyes twinkled like Jann’s when he was enjoying a joke. She leaned towards him as much as the bonds would allow. “What does it mean when he grunts? Is he trying not to laugh, or is he truly angered?”

“Oh, that’s just gas,” Jann said.

“Enough,” I growled as Yilan giggled. “Both of you,” I added with a glare at my comrade. “You aren’t the only one who would like to sleep before dawn, Jann. Stop falling for her tactics. She’s only deflecting and delaying. Keep your mouth shut—” I said quickly when he opened his mouth to answer. “No one is going to speak now, but our… guest. Who will speak of the ways to both approach and pass through the swamps safely, or I will slit her throat so that I can return to the front.”

She looked sullen, but reluctantly turned to look at the maps again, sighing and leaning forward. “Can you free me so that I can show you points on the terrain? It will speed this up a great deal.”

Jann stepped forward, but I didn’t trust her. I put a hand up to stop him approaching her, then started unbuckling the leather that bound one of her arms.

She sighed with relief when that hand was free, rolling her wrist and hissing as the blood flowed back into the hand.

Then I picked up the chair and shoved it back around and right up to the end of the bed, until her knees knocked the footboard.

“Start talking,” I muttered.

“My other hand—”

“Start. Talking,” I repeated through my teeth.

She sighed, but leaned forward as much as her bound arm would allow, her eyes darting left and right over the maps, her lips pursed.

“If you’ve taken Noctharrow, then my guess is you’re riding the line between Tuskarria and Zaryndar—which would have been a great strategy for their caution if they weren’t already working together,” she muttered.

Then she turned and looked at me, scanning me from my bare feet to my crown, her face thoughtful as if she were measuring me.

“My guess is that the Tuskarrians are giving you the physical fight, and the Zaryndar are using their magik to slow you… and so far, your enemies have been far more united in their defense than your men are in their attack. Your progress across the flatlands lulled your ranks into a false sense of security, and now they’re ill-disciplined and responding slowly… arrogant and unwilling to admit they’ve been bested. You’re scrambling—”

“We are not scrambling,” I ground out. “But… our progress has stayed… for now.”

She tipped her head at me. “So, you can be humble when it’s needed. Well done, General. Perhaps you do have a soul after all.”

I rolled my eyes, but she turned back to the maps, chewing the inside of her cheek. “You need not tell me where it happened, but I need to know: How many times have you attempted to take the gain? How many times have they turned you back?”

Suspicious of a trap, though I couldn’t see it, I looked a question at Jann. Should we tell her? Was there a way she could take more from that simple piece of information than I could see?

He shrugged and tipped his head towards her.

I sighed. “Three times,” I admitted, though it made my skin crawl. “Only the first was a route. The second and third did not make us scramble , but we have not gained ground.”

She nodded as if I’d only affirmed what she believed.

Then, her eyes still darting across the maps, she reached out to point at a place right on the borderlands of Tuskarria and Zaryndar. “The ravine,” she said.

Rage swelled my chest. “What a fucking waste of time this has been,” I muttered, turning from her, pissed at myself for believing she’d take this seriously. I turned to Jann, ready to instruct him to rebind and gag her, when she spoke again.

“They will never expect it.”

“Of course they won’t expect it, because it is a death-trap, and I am not stupid!” I roared at her.

She merely raised an eyebrow and shook her head slowly.

“Not if you handle it correctly. You and your people are far too accustomed to simply showing up and expecting your enemies to cower like nervous pups. The Tuskarrians won’t stop fighting until they cease breathing, and the Zaryndar will keep evading you until they can bring their magik to bear and actually wound you. And don’t believe that they won’t work together—letting the Tuskars battle to wear you out, then bringing the wizards up in the rear to finish you. They may not have it in them to conquer you, Melek, but they can turn you back. And the rest of the world will take notice of that.”

“I am aware—”

“Bullshit. You’re scrambling whether you’re ready to admit it or not. You haven’t made progress because you’ve assumed you can whittle their numbers down in the skirmishes, then just walk across the swamps when they’re clear of vermin,” she snapped. “But you’re wrong. The population counts on the Zaryndar alone are in the hundreds of thousands, and they will never actually engage. It would be like fighting ghosts. It would take you years to kill enough of them to just waltz through their land, and in the meantime, you’re also fighting Boars who will willingly die just to bleed you. And both are being coordinated by the Aethereans. Your strategy would have worked faster without that, but with the soulsuckers in play, you’re screwed. You’d be old and gray before you took the wetlands… and then you’d still have us to deal with.”

She gave a small, wicked smile. “You want my honest, unvarnished assessment of the best path through? Well, here it is: Your current plan is the waste of time. Aim for the ravine—and expect it to take time. But that mile of precious progress will open a wedge between their peoples and put you in control of where and how you meet in battle. And if you really surprise them, you’ll have them scrambling, Aethereans be damned.”

I shook my head. “You really do think I’m stupid. The ravine is a channel. The ground between the cliffs isn’t just wet, it’s a mire which works against our weight and size compared to the Zaryndar. Even if it held off the Tuskars, we’d be stuck before we made it through—”

“It’s worse than that. The wetlands within the ravine are scattered with sinkholes that even your bodies would disappear into and never return. Meanwhile the tree canopy is so dense, you barely see the sun. You can be attacked from above and below and never see it coming,” she said sweetly.

I ground my teeth. “Then why—”

“Firstly, because they would never expect it. If I had to gamble anything on this war, it is that both the Zaryndar and the Tuskarrians believe the risk of you approaching via that route is so small, they have left only a smattering of guards and runners in place to alert them to your appearance. And because they know your progress would be so slow the runners would bring word to the ranks on both sides before you could make it through.”

“Which is precisely why—”

“But you can fly.”

“Not through a narrow ravine, between trees and archers. We would be picked off—”

“The land atop the cliffs on either side is the driest and clearest of any part of the wetlands. If you could take that, you would not only be on dry, solid ground, you would have the highest position, forcing them to fight uphill if they come for you. And unable to see you from within the ravine’s depths. There is some risk if they get an Aetherean up there to watch for them, but those cowards don’t like sunlight. And they won’t be willing to scale the cliffs without protection from the Tuskers.

“You do not need to take the entire swamp. You only need to remove the guards and runners that are there to alert the others. Take those without raising the alarm, and you can fly to the top of the cliffs. With Tuskarria on one side, and Zaryndar on the other, they will be forced to fight you separately—”

“Splitting our forces as well!” I pointed out, though I was beginning to see that perhaps this plan wasn’t quite the suicide mission I’d assumed.

“Battle is your strength. Get them to face you on higher ground and you will win, and you know it. My guess is that once they realize what has happened, they won’t even try to fight. They’ll be too busy rushing their forces to the wetlands at the base of the ravine inside their borders —but again, you’ll have scaled the cliffs and can simply follow them all the way down. They won’t be able to meet you on flat ground until you’re almost at the Shadows of Shade.”

I saw the barest flash in her eyes at that statement—the Shadows of Shade was a thick band of fog, reportedly almost five miles deep, that covered the land from coast to coast and was so dense, even sunlight didn’t reach through.

It was the protection of her land and people, the Fetch. They walked the shadows were undeterred by the darkness and lack of visibility there.

But we, of course, would not be.

“So your plan is to help me defeat our mutual enemies, then position me for death on your borders?” I asked dryly.

She didn’t even hesitate. “I have given you the route you needed. If you can’t beat those armies in outright war, then nothing I have to offer will help you.”

I stared at her, but she didn’t waver.

Jann, at my side, was remarkably quiet, which meant he was thoughtful.

I glanced at him, but he was examining the maps, a frown creasing his forehead. It was an odd expression for him. I’d seen the man smile while being treated for a stab-wound to the ribs.

The Fetch had sat back in her chair, her eyes were still on the maps, but it was clear that she was smug. Certain.

I wanted to snap my teeth, but I couldn’t deny that she had accurately predicted our current position and struggle. And I was catching the vision of what she proposed.

“Start from the beginning and speak as if I am an imbecile. Show me. Step by step on the maps how you see this being achieved. And when you’re done, start again.”

She tipped her head up to meet my eyes and smiled. “Don’t worry, we’ll do this as many times as it takes for you to catch on, Melek,” she said sweetly. “I’m a very patient woman. Especially with simple minds. It’s not your fault that God gave you a blunt instrument to work with.”

Behind me, Jannus cleared his throat to cover a laugh.

But I didn’t give two shits if she mocked me—if she really was giving me the keys to finally win this war.

“Start at the beginning,” I growled. “And don’t stop until I speak.”

She took a deep breath, but she nodded and turned back to the maps, pointing with her free hand.

“You’d need a force large enough to fight, but not so large that you march slower than a man alone. There’s a trail that runs parallel to the road from Noctharrow and you’d be expected to take that if you were splitting forces to meet the Tuskars…”