Page 73 of Veil of Vasara (Fate of the Five #1)

CHAPTER 73- NATHON

T he hall burst into a rapturous frenzy as the announcement was made, although I had already known the outcome.

Immediately after the final dinners had been conducted, Loria had told me we had succeeded. The King was to choose her to be his wife.

Her breathing had been rushed, but her face flushed with relief and satisfaction.

I could not, however, find it within myself to share her sense of fulfilment.

I could not quieten that part of me that wished we had failed. Our success only meant Sarlan’s plan was one step further towards completion.

From our backs, we could feel all eyes upon us, more specifically, on Loria, who, despite knowing she was the subject of their curiosity, jealousy, and perhaps in the rare instance, congratulations, did not turn to acknowledge them at all. It was only when she met eyes with the King before us, that the corners of her lips turned upwards slightly, as did his.

To Loria’s left was Princess Rhana, to my right the Lady Dyna. All the escorts and candidates stood in a line at the foot of the throne's platform.

The King rose from that seat. He took some steps forwards, still maintaining eye contact with Loria for a few moments. My eyes found her face again. She truly did look…pleased.

The King glanced over our heads at the audience. “The Courting Season has concluded. However, as you all know and remember, it has not been devoid of incident or danger. We thank the Gods that each candidate and escort remain alive and well.”

“And His Majesty!” Someone from the crowd yelled.

“Aye! Thank the Gods!”

“Aye, aye!” a few more voices muttered.

Unlike Loria, the King seemed to meet all their eyes, and acknowledge them with light smiles.

“I am most grateful to those who have cooperated with us on this matter, and I am pleased to say” — the King looked down to my right — “that we have found the culprit responsible for the Lady’s poisoning.”

The Lady stiffened up beside me, taking in a sharp and high-pitched breath. Even without looking at her, I could sense her trembling, and could see, from the corner of my eye, the Captain’s hand reaching out to steady her.

The King turned very slightly over his left shoulder and nodded. Moments later, a man was dragged out onto the platform on the space between the King and the candidates.

There was a sack over his head, dark red and silken, hiding his face, but it did not matter. The crowd gasped collectively. The identity of the man was already half revealed.

His uniform was as white as the marble stone of the steps the King descended. The King paused on them.

He reached forwards and pulled the sack off.

Beneath it, was the face of a young man, one of Vasara’s trackers. His short brown hair was tousled in spikes, disorganised by the material that had been shoved over his head. His eyes darted around the room as he quickly ascertained where he was. He looked up and met eyes with the King who was regarding him coldly and unkindly.

The King’s hand gently cupped the back of his head, leaving it there as he faced the audience again.

The tenderness of his hand’s movement combined with the disdain in his eyes was…disturbing.

“We have discovered that this tracker, who calls himself Vykros, was working with rebel sorcerer groups. He has confessed to his crimes, including the attempted assassination of Lady Dyna.”

Confessed?

This Vykros had likely been tortured for such information. Who knows what he might have ‘confessed’ under such circumstances?

I knew how easy it was to loosen the lips through such methods, not just in search of the truth, but of lies as well.

The man shook his head, his mouth agape. He took in the audience’s judging, disgusted, and frightful glares. He appeared as if overcome by a sudden fit of fear, and interrupted the King as he attempted to speak again.

“NO! IT’S NOT TRUE!”

The King’s jaw clenched as he slowly cast his head back down. “The things we found upon this tracker’s person, and in his quarters, were clear evidence of his collusion. It pains me we have been betrayed. You are aware we go to great lengths to prevent such measures.”

The King yanked the man’s right arm up and pulled his sleeve down revealing the cursed mark I had heard bound trackers to their role.

“However, on closer inspection, we found that this tracker had nullified his curse. Only the sorcery of Healers can achieve such an effect, and only with great amounts of power.”

Healers?

The Captain and I both remained facing forwards, but I had no doubt he and I were sharing the same thoughts.

The Healer the Captain had mentioned, the one who had cured Dyna.

This confirmed it. The man had actually been colluding with those sorcerers, but if they were truly responsible for Dyna’s attempted assassination, why would the Healer have arrived to save her life?

It was possible, of course, that it had been part of the ploy, to gain the Captain’s gratitude and trust, and that their intention had not been to kill the Lady, only to use her.

The crowd remained aghast, but there was the unmistakable feel of awe and delight in the air as well. Many people would revel in such a display.

And they called me a psychopath.

The tracker on the ground turned to the Lady, “It wasn’t us. It wasn’t!”

He must have known it was in the sorcerers interests to ally with the Captain. But whether his protestation of innocence was genuine, could not be determined by that goal of allyship at all. If they had done it, they would want to maintain the pretence they had not. If they hadn’t, then they would wish to make that known.

In short, the man’s declarations amounted to nothing.

The King pulled the man’s arm back as he tried to inch forwards towards Dyna on his knees. “The punishment for this betrayal is death. The punishment for the attempted murder of a human is death.”

While it was obvious the man was genuinely afraid, he only maintained his innocence. “I promise, I swear, My Lady, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t us!”

Dyna’s eyes were wide with panic, she continued to shake beside me. The Captain remained unmoving, but I could only imagine the anger he felt at the possibility of the assailant being in front of him, and the confusion at whether he should believe his protestations of innocence.

“I, King Eliel Solisan, declare that you…”

As the King delivered his judgement, Lady Dyna mumbled under her breath, so softly, it was only possible for both the Captain and I, the two people directly beside her, to hear it.

“It wasn’t him,” the thin wisp of her voice travelled to our ears.

“It wasn’t him,” she said slightly louder this time.

She stood straighter, and I could tell from her body language, she meant to defend the man’s innocence.

She made to move.

Without looking at her, I grabbed her wrist.

The Lady Dyna’s age meant she wasn’t well versed in the art of subtly. She opened her mouth confused and looked down at where my hand had grabbed her arm. I could feel the Captain’s eyes on me as well. I didn’t move.

Fortunately, the audience was in a state of confusion, distracted by the King’s speech and this turn of events. Even if any of them were to notice my gesture, it could be anticipated as a way for me to prevent the Lady from acting rashly towards her perpetrator, letting the King’s justice be done.

“What are you—" she began to say.

“Don’t move.” I barely parted my lips or made a sound as I instructed her, continuing to look forwards at the King.

The Lady, I could feel, turned to the Captain, who was no doubt aware of my actions. She looked at him questioningly. I could not see him fully, but whatever he did, gestured, or said to her, made her turn back to face me, and say even more quietly.

“Why?”

I only gave her a quick side glance which communicated the words.

Don’t speak anymore. Just do as I say.

There were two reasons for this.

Firstly, a reason which the Captain would undoubtedly not care about, was that I was already under suspicion for Lady Dyna’s poisoning. The death of another, even if he were innocent, would clear my name. Now, more than ever, I needed to remain under as little scrutiny as possible.

But the second reason, which had likely struck the Captain as well… was this. If this man had not committed this crime, if he truly were innocent, then the real culprit had likely been instrumental in framing him, perhaps even handed him over to the King, created false information regarding his involvement, or been the one to torture the ‘confession’ out of him.

If this death sentence were stopped, the culprit would only frame another, and his alertness, his guard would go up significantly, having had his first attempt at clearing his name fail.

But if this man were to die for his crimes, then the real culprit would believe himself free from suspicion, making it far easier for us to detect them, and discover their true identity.

Better to let them think they had succeeded and catch them in the midst of their delusion, than know they had failed and chase them through the shadows. After all, the more you tried to swat a flea, the more it leapt around. It was only if you approached it carefully and quietly, that you could convince it of safety, before you crushed it with your palm.

Many who operated this way were nothing more than those fleas, jumping from one carcass to the next. They branded me the Bird of Death while they lay eggs amongst the ruins, running at the first sight of danger. They believed this protected them. But I had seen enough of their like to know it only made them predictable.

However, while this thought had come to me instantly, and it was not beyond the Captain’s capabilities for it to arrive to him at once as well, I was surprised he would also be willing to let this man die for the sake of our plans.

The Captain, who seemed the very embodiment of morality.

The Captain, who had implored me just days ago, not to frame an innocent for his own actions.

The Captain, who had also told me there was much I did not know about him, that he was not the pillar of righteousness I implied him to be.

“Let it be known,” the King’s voice rang out, pulling me from my thoughts, “That such crimes will never be allowed to transpire without consequence. That we protect our people from those who would harbour us ill will. Let it be known” — the King took some more steps forwards, so that he was even closer to the man kneeling on the ground— “that we will not fall.”

The King raised one finger on his left hand, a signal to someone.

Within seconds, the mark on the man’s arm, which had clearly been re-applied, began to move under his skin. Its dark black ink turned into a scorching red. It bled into his wrist and sprawled rapidly through his veins.

He wailed and clutched at his right arm with his left hand. The intensity of the spread grew, and his skin began to wither away, along with bone, simply disappearing into the air. At first one finger, then another, the remnants floating before him, landing on the white ground like dark ash.

The King watched, not a trace of emotion or discomfort in his eyes. There was not the perverse fascination the crowd held. There was not the discomfort the other candidates displayed, shifting anxiously on their feet, or the terror in Dyna’s eyes…there was simply nothing.

Both he and I…did not react at all.

I, because I had seen far worse.

He…I could not say.

As the man’s arm began to shatter in the same way, he stumbled forwards towards Dyna. The King did not intervene, he only watched. The tracker barely made it two steps before his right leg also began to disintegrate into nothing as well.

“It wasn’t me…it…” The right side of his face began to disappear.

Dyna’s breaths had turned rapid, shuddering in and out.

The man grew closer, reaching out his last remaining arm. It was now only metres away from the Lady’s own.

“I…I…” Dyna started, “This…isn’t…”

I gripped her wrist slightly harder, reminding her she should remain quiet.

“I’m…I…I’m sorry,” she said, as he was now only inches away.

“It…wasn’t…nghh…m…mee,” he garbled.

Tears fell down Dyna’s cheeks.

The man was now directly in front of us, almost translucent.

“I know,” Dyna whispered in that same quiet voice.

But it was enough for the man to hear.

He dropped his arm. His brow, or what was left of it, relaxed, and then, he instantaneously became dust at our feet.

We stared at the remnants of the once living man. Dyna’s tears fell into the pile of ash, wetting it, darkening it even further.

My hand remained on her wrist.

“I…know…” she mumbled again.

Weeks ago, this platform had been tainted in blood.

Now it was tarnished in ash, and in tears.

“Let it be known,” he had said.

I looked up and found the King watching us.

And for the first time since I had arrived, I felt it keenly and undeniably. That of all the things my father had been wrong about, and they were numerous and many, that calling this man conceited and inexperienced, an easy target…

Was perhaps the grandest lapse of judgement he had ever made.