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Every man at the table scoffs.
“Forty, and that’s final.”
Gray nods. “Is he expelled from the Range?”
“He’ll be on probation, one that you will supervise.”
“Done.” He inclines his head before he stands. “Thank you, Luka.”
“Oh, and Gray,” I call. “Welcome back.”
♦♦♦
Rina is nestled in the bed and I can’t help but stare at her in the light of the glowing embers as I strip my clothes. Tomorrow will be another long day and she has no idea of what’s to come. She’ll adapt though. She has to.
Slipping between the furs, I curl myself around her back, careful not to jostle her. She’s left the tie at the neck of her night rail loose, allowing the material to hang down off her injured shoulder. It’s not bandaged, and in the very low light, I can see that the lash didn’t break the skin.Thank fuck.The area is bruised though. She’ll be sore tomorrow.
“Luka?” she asks sleepily.
“Go back to sleep.”
She tries to turn in my arms but I hold her in place.
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.”
As she starts to relax, so do I. This is perfect, I think vaguely as I sink into sleep . . . not even her whispered, “I’m so sorry,” can pull me back.
♦♦♦
I wake before dawn with a heavy heart. Today will not be a good day.
Not wanting Rina’s day to start before it has to, I’m careful when I rise from the bed. Though my reasons for slinking out probably aren’t so noble in reality, that’s what I focus on.
Her little maid is waiting in the hall, spots of blood marring the bandage she has wrapped around her neck. “Kata,” I say, inclining my head. “Thank you for protecting her when I couldn’t.”
The skittish woman’s eyes bulge as she returns the gesture, hugging the bundle she’s carrying closer to her chest. She listens intently while I give her instructions for the day, barely managing to keep the surprise from her face. Understandably she has questions about my orders, but since she can’t ask them, I’m spared the explanations.
Though I have much to prepare before the sun reaches its zenith, the morning passes by like molasses. When it’s finally time, I enter the courtyard from the stables where I was readying Nightshade for the journey. I’ve made this affair mandatory for every man, woman, and child, so the space is packed, including the ramparts, and eerily silent. This is not a joyous occasion.
They part for me as I make my way to the Great Hall’s steps, and for once, their heavy regard isn’t intolerable. No, this time, it gives me strength.
I’m pleased to see that Rina and my mother have been installed in chairs on the landing, elevated above the rest. My mother glows with pride, but Rina appears extremely ill at ease. In stark contrast to yesterday, she does her best to seek out my gaze, but I purposefully avoid it. Until this is done, I need to stay the course.
Noé hands me the poleaxe on my way up the steps. Unlike my speech for Carson’s death rites, I haven’t practiced this one, or even thought much about it prior to this.
But since that farce of a funeral, my life and my role in it have crystalized. My purpose is clear to me now. Koda had laid it out for me in simple terms; consolidate or perish. Clear-cut, easy. It’s about time I started acting like it.
“I’m not going to stand up here,” I begin, my voice echoing off the tall walls of the courtyard. “And try to convince you that I’m worthy of being your deve. Because Iamyour deve. If, like these cowards,” I gesture to Gore and Dumfries who are on their knees before their respective blocks, “you seek to plot against me, your head will also roll. No exceptions.”
I let that sink in. “I have not been an unreasonable man so far. I’ve listened to your problems. I’ve listened to your grievances. I’ve been more than generous with my judgments.” I twirl the poleaxe in my hands. “But if you’restillunhappy with my rule, as is our custom, your first,your onlycourse of action is to challenge me. Is that clear?” I hear a few mumbles of assent, but that’s not good enough for me. “I said is that clear?!”
If I’m surprised by their enthusiasm this time, I don’t show it. I just raise the axe in the air and let their cheers wash over me. When the noise begins to die down, I stroll down the steps and close in on my first target.
“Byron Gore, you are condemned to die for treason,” I intone. “May the Father cast you into the Abyss.”
Two men have to hold him down before I can get a proper swing in. With a horrible thunk, the blade goes through his flesh and bone and into the block. His head tumbles onto the cobbles, blood gushing from his neck.
