Page 53 of Winter Gods & Serpents

I narrowed my eyes at him, who had now stopped in the middle of the room watching and studying me.

“I will not die, your deal with Adriata is safe,” I said spitefully. I had not once received the smallest care from my father, which meant I knew very well what this was. The nights I hurt, ached, and spent sick were always with my mother or Alaric, both of whom I was now missing painfully.

“One of my soldiers told me you spent an entire night out in the gardens,” he said, approaching my bed, ignoring what I had said.

“Good heavens, are you spying on me now?” I do not know why I was so surprised, I expected worse from him. Of course he would keep an eye on me.

“You will not resume your duties anymore, what happened today should have not taken place. Whoever attacked you was aware of your itinerary; you are to stay within safe castle grounds.”

I lifted my upper body to stand but my legs had gone numb. Heart drumming all ire and vexation at what he had just said. That feel of chains creeped over my wrists and ankles and I flinched at the memory. “You will not make me a prisoner again, father. I will not allow it, my duties remain and if you fear for my life then keep me safe, but not locked,” I challenged, livid that he might trap me here, again.

He shook his head, jaw tight and angry ready to object to my words.

I stood, barely holding myself up and came face to face with him. “I will never be you, but I am not my mother either.”

He studied me for a moment, I felt the disregard there though he did not say it. “Stay, use my chambers tonight, you are not well. We will speak of this again tomorrow,” he said, grabbing my arm as I went past him.

I shook myself free from him. “It smells of death in here, this is your room to rot in, not mine.”

Three enemies circled me now—father, Adriatians and possibly Solaryans. I had now more on my plate that I bargained to find when I took my chance coming to Isjord, now it was no longer just about fathers plans. Or was all of it revolving around them? As per usual, the shit was his, but I was getting the stink of it.

Chapter 14

Lilies and Poison

Kilian

There have been no trespassers through the Highwall in the past two weeks on either side of the border, it was either the new rules to kill at first sight that had done it or the Isjordian princess had truly found the leaks in the wall. That day had been playing continuously in my head, every flash of remembrance ignited ire back.

Mal and the others did not mention what happened that day, but I knew they all had been affected just as I. She was not just a cruel captain, but the cruel princess Adriata's king was to marry. The council discussed the deal for months, but nothing outbalanced the freedom of our people to our pride, nothing but her. She’d won council over the deal the moment they’d snapped on the idea.

Adriata was a powerful kingdom, but we were always surrounded by unfavourable lands and water. The dark sea was sanctuary of Golgotha’s creatures, the demon god, whose realm had been destroyed. God of gods, Fader, had offered him sanctuary in Numengarth. The dark sea polluted in creatures of the dark, they were peaceful but mindless. When they crawled onto our lands, it caused quite the havoc and damage. Our west was crawling with unblessed from Vrammethen, frequently attempting to cross to Dardanes through us, it kept our guards on constant edge and our people under fear. With the addition of Highwall we are scarce all over. Remote villages were left empty, those who relied on crossing the border seasonally for work were living in poverty with no access to food and other living necessities. Those who had been trapped within our walls were heavily relying on our product ability with no trade deals from any of the other kingdoms. We lived in a highly productive land, our soil adaptable to all produce, our farms facilitating all living stock and our seas drowned in fish, but our population grew rapidly by day, and those lands and farms once cultivated had become villages and our forests growing scarce for wood that was now not enough to build new fishing boats to replace the ones that were growing old and broken.

Mal only returned yesterday from Sitara and had been right, the stink of what he had slaughtered stuck like mud to him. He’d come back with the wildest telling’s and most shocked I’d ever seen him.

“Lilies, how can lilies grow like wild bushes everywhere destruction plagues?” He asked scratching his stubbly jaw. “Is this something holy? What does it even mean?”

Lily of the valley had spurted everywhere these past months, all over the parts affected by this mist of misfortune that plagued Adriata endless. Gods had funny metaphorical ways to thank, mock and warn us.

“They are lily of the valley. I believe they mean poison.” Henah had planted the flower in mourning to her guardian who died by the earthly flower, even the eternals were not immortal. It was said the flower would bloom in warning every time poison and misfortune surrounded someone.

“Our lands are poisoned? From what?”

“I don’t know, Mal. I don’t know.” I truly did not know.

We rode out of the Adriata’s capital, Amaris, towards Kilmarnock forest, now the last barrier between our kingdom and the Highwall. Before the forest had grown hundred feet tall giants that were seen miles away. Once home to folk, animal and all magic, now new sprouts were yearly planted to preserve it from becoming an empty landscape just like most of its sister lands had become.

We were on our way for the weekly wall checks and updates on guard rotations and news from Isjord which delivered there. Larg had called us for news, insistent on speaking it personally.

“He keeps calling us to the wall for the most ridiculous reasons. Do you recon he thinks us jobless?”

“He is our godfather, Mal, and has no family. How many times do you normally visit him?”

“The normal never,” he said, flashing me a grin.

Highwall was quieter than usual, solemn, and gloomier at the new quiet. Soldiers sat bored along their posts, some together affront a game board and others almost snoring out of their armour.

“The princess did not lie, she truly must have rooted out all rot from Kirkwall, no more crossings in a fortnight,” Mal said all too quietly and casually as we dismounted our horses.