Page 52 of The King’s Man (The Kingdom of the Krow #3)

“Vaysh.” I looked at him slowly, growling to find his eyes on Diadre, who shrank against my side, but her expression was defiant.

I prayed the shrinking was a choice, not an instinct. She felt strong. But the thread of unease was there. My people frightened her, which made me grieve.

“They told me it was you and I didn’t believe them,” Vaysh offered.

“Just another example of your foolishness, then. Perhaps you’ll learn this time?” I said coldly.

I could feel the uncertainty in Diadre—I’d told her I had friends here, but wasn’t treating this man like one. There were reasons for that. We had an audience.

“So… why are you here?” he said darkly. “And why not warn us of your coming? We would have welcomed you the way the General of our people deserves.”

Interesting choice to mark my rank aloud. I snorted when he said welcomed.

“I suppose I wanted to see how long it would take you to come to your senses.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Almost three hours. I don’t think that’s an improvement. I expected you to have grown by now.”

‘What is going on?’ Diadre sent. ‘Is he a friend or not?’

‘He is, but one I don’t want to be publicly aligned with. We’re keeping up appearances. Don’t worry about this. I’ll handle Vaysh, you keep watch on the room.’

The server hurried over, eyeing me in case I wasn’t pleased with who had been informed of my whereabouts. But as Vaysh ordered food and a drink, though I made my indifference clear, I didn’t protest.

When the server hurried away, Vaysh settled onto the bench across the table. It creaked under his weight. We remained silent until his drink was delivered, then after a long draw on the ale, Vaysh met my gaze with his yellow eyes.

“You sent word. Our brothers sent me. Now… what are you doing?” His eyes slid to Diadre, then back to me, and a fizz of thrill rose in my chest.

He’d heard. Thank God.

“What have you heard about events in the west?” I asked as if I was merely curious and making conversation.

“I have heard we have a new King, and he is… making changes.”

“We have,” I affirmed. “Melek has taken the Fetch. Their women are strong. He claimed them for the crown. But I liked this one, so I took her.”

Vaysh’s facade broke. He almost choked on the mouthful of his ale and had to clear his throat twice, and wipe his face before staring at me wide-eyed.

“She was the King’s?”

“They’re all the King’s, though he’s claimed one specifically and called her mate,” I said darkly.

Vaysh shook his head. “If it was anyone else, they wouldn’t have lived a day. As it stands… it’s been lovely to know you, Jann.”

I shrugged, but pinned him with my eyes—growling when he looked at Diadre again.

When Vaysh looked at me, one brow arched, I didn’t move, but kept my voice low and dark. “I defy the King for her, you think I won’t take you?”

He answered as if it were a casual conversation and I hadn’t threatened him. “The thing I don’t understand is why so many of our males have been consumed by these Fetch women. What is so special about them?”

I grinned and showed him my teeth. “Go find one for yourself and figure it out.”

Vaysh took one, casual glance over his shoulder then turned back to me and met my eyes. “Melek, Jannus—even the idiot has taken one. Those of us here want to know why.”

Beside me, Diadre stopped breathing. I held his gaze and let my jaw clench to show him that I had not changed my stance on how Gall should be treated. “To which idiot do you refer—I’m assuming not the one sitting in front of me?” I growled.

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Vaysh said, smiling like he was pleased to have caught me.

“Melek isn’t only facing a challenge from you for the woman, he’s facing a challenge to the throne from Gall.

Claiming his birthright. That idiot—it won’t work, of course.

But he has his little Fetch Queen, as well.

Like father, like son, I suppose. Or is it adopted father? Who knows. I don’t understand—”

I huffed, but my heart raced and my head spun with questions I couldn’t ask here. “Gall claims the throne?” I gave a throaty laugh. “The boy is no threat to Melek—nor would he set himself up as one. I’m surprised you fell for his tales. At worst, he’s making up stories to brag. He’s like a child—”

“Gall passed through with an entourage, fighters at his back, and… power,” Vaysh murmured, running his thumb through the condensation on his mug of ale.

“I saw him level a man with my own eyes. He’s a fool, but a strong one.

And some are already gathering to him.” Then he met my gaze, his own cold with warning.

“A strong child may still be a threat by pure virtue of his unfounded confidence.”

I shook my head. “I don’t believe it.”

Vaysh shrugged. “Ask any man in here, they’ll all tell the same story.

We watched it happen three days ago. Few with an interest in the Neph can speak of anything else.

Why did he turn on Melek? Did Melek actually take the crown, or was that gossip?

What’s going to happen when Gall makes it to Ebonreach? Or Melek? No one knows.”

I pretended indifference, but inside I was shrieking.

Did he really not understand what was happening here?

Had they really believed Gall was setting himself up as a cuckolding King?

I would have laughed the rumor out of the Den, but Vaysh was reliable.

And loyal to me, not Melek. The fact that he offered this so openly meant it was a well-known fact.

Not a secret to be leveraged. He didn’t like what he was seeing.

But I knew if he had to put his might behind one of us, it would be me. So he truly believed he was warning me?

“I find this… difficult to swallow,” I said darkly.

“A common problem I face,” he said with a suggestive smile. “But ask around. You’ll find out.”

I grunted, then leaned forward, resting my arms on the table. “And if I wanted to speak with more of our brothers, to… explore how the tides flow here in Noctharrow?”

Vaysh’s lips twitched towards a smile. “It could be arranged.”

“Is there a gathering?”

“More than one. The death of Gault sent some of our numbers into hiding, and others fleeing, hoping to be assumed lost in the tide of war. Others have followed Gall, as I mentioned. Our numbers are… scattered.”

I grimaced. It was always the case in any army, but it rankled when men had no spine and used political upheaval to benefit themselves.

Fucking cowards.

It meant that other than those we’d placed here earlier, the men gathered in Noctharrow were mostly mutinous, or weak.

Dammit.

“Tell our mutual friends I would speak with them tonight.”

“I’ll pass on the request.”

I pinned him with a glare. “It is not a request. You tell them if they want any hope of aligning with the true Crown, they will make their account tonight, after moonrise. Our usual place—unless you’ve been using it in my absence?”

Vaysh shook his head. “Your orders have been obeyed.”

“Good. Then spread the word.”

“I’m happy to inform our brothers, but tell me… which Crown will they be attending? Melek’s? Gall’s? Or…?” He left the statement unspoken, and I didn’t reply.

But I did smile.

When he’d finished his food, he excused himself and left. There were still several hours before the others would gather where I’d instructed. I had many decisions to make. But I needed time and space and quiet to think. To view this from all angles and—

‘Did he really say Gall is setting himself up as King?’

‘With a Fetch woman at his side,’ I sent back tightly. I glanced to meet her eyes from the side, and both of us tensed with the combination of hope and fear.

‘So… that means…’

‘Gall and Istral were both alive three days ago.’

But what the fuck were they doing? And whose thumb were they under? Sadly, I suspected I knew the answer to that question.

The innkeeper arrived soon after Vaysh left and hurriedly secured us a room. Keeping a hand on Diadre at all times, I marched her through the den, meeting eyes with the man in the black hood—he shouldn’t have waited so long to play his hand. But as it happened, I no longer needed him.

The innkeeper gave me the largest room in the building across the road from the den’s street entrance, and much as I wanted to sink into that bed and sleep for days, my body trembled with nervous energy.

The moment we were alone and the man’s footsteps had faded down the hall outside, I turned to Diadre. “We only have a short time. I need those watching to believe I’m here, but our true space is… not this.” I sighed, looking at the bed longingly.

“I don’t care about the room—Jann, what the hell is going on? Gall wouldn’t do that to Melek, would he? It has to be a ruse, or—”

I shook my head and rubbed my hand over my face because the conviction wouldn’t leave me, but I didn’t want to think it, let alone speak it.

“Jann?” She stepped up to my toes and wrapped her arms around my waist, craning her head back. “Tell me.”

I sighed. “The Fallen. It’s the only explanation,” I muttered. “They’re using Gall as a pawn to take the throne before Melek can get to Ebonreach. Somehow working to make him look like the one who defeated the Fetch.”

Diadre frowned. “I love Gall, but… would the Neph even follow him?”

“No, of course not,” I growled. “But if I’m reading this right, he’s nothing but a figurehead. And the Neph follow strength. They’ll follow the power that’s setting him up.”

“What do you mean?”

I blew out a breath and made myself meet her eyes. “The Fallen obviously don’t want Melek in power. They’re taking the throne themselves. And using Gall as a front.”