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“The number of recent breaches,” Aric said. “It’s come to my attention that the Zrynians have ripped their way through your border wall five times in as many months. Stranger still is that I was only called for the first incident, while the rest were kept under wraps.”
Harald shook his head slowly. “There must be some mistake.”
“I’m not accusing you of knowing the reason behind the attacks, or why they’ve been so deliberately lackluster,” Aric said. “However, you are the one responsible for the integrity of that wall. Sohoware they breaking through, Harald? I need to know everything you know. And then we need to decide on a course of action to put a stop to it before any more damage is done.”
Harald moved to his desk and dropped into his chair. “Five times?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I heard of the incident, months ago, that you resolved. I heard that you patched up the damage to the wall. We sent an inspection team to verify its integrity and—of course—found nothing wrong with the wall or the repair.”
Aric nodded. “Each incident was in a different location.”
“What?” Harald stared at him with widened eyes, then immediately began rummaging through the drawers of his desk. “No, no, that doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense. The wall is sound. We check it regularly.”
Aric hummed, watching Harald’s movements. Obviously, there was a flaw somewhere, but it seemed clear from the proud nobleman’s openly frazzled reaction this was also news to him. That only further confounded Aric. Had the council in charge of maintaining Yafae’s border wall also been kept in the dark regarding this series of attacks? If neither they nor he had been brought in up to this point, who had repaired the wall? That sort of magic was no small feat. To say nothing for the increasing lack of political sense.
Was it possible Aric had been misled?
Harald dumped a heavy tome on the desk and flipped it open. “Here, see. The signatures are verified. The integrity was confirmed not forty-eight hours after your report to His Majesty.” He slid the book across the desk and motioned for Aric to inspect it himself.
Aric obligingly stepped forward and skimmed the open pages. Everything seemed consistent, and a quick magical scan assured him the ink was as old as it claimed to be. He nodded and returned the book. “Then you understand there’s a larger problem here, one that puts the entire kingdom at risk.”
Harald’s hand hovered over the closed leather cover of the tome. “Why would His Majesty keep such an important series of events quiet?” His fingers curled into a fist and he hit the book in clear frustration. “Are you saying even you didn’t know about these occurrences until now?”
This was where it became sticky. Denham insisted on being left out entirely, and Aric had been asked to be as subtle in his references to the King as possible. The logic was flawed, but orders were orders, so Aric inclined his head. “That is what I’m saying.”
“This is outrageous! Why would His Majesty keep such dangerous occurrences secret? I spoke to him only the day before leaving for this trip!”
Aric kept his expression a practiced neutral. “Asking me the same questions repeatedly won’t yield you any more satisfying answers, Harald. This is the situation now. We must deal with it.”
Harald slumped back in his seat with a defeated sigh. “I see my vacation is over.”
The words were barely past Harald’s lips before the door swung open and a booming voice proceeded Aric’s most feared complication. Harald’s eldest son, Captain Lennart Lamont. “Good morning, Father! Look what—” He finally cut himself off, dark brown eyes narrowing on Aric. “What’s the meaning of this? Why are you interrupting our private family time, Sentry?”
Aric made no effort to stop his brow from hiking up his forehead in response. Lennart hadn’t exactly arrived alone, but with two middle-aged women quite literally clinging to his arm. Neither of whom looked remotely like the wife Aric had met once before.Like father, like son, I suppose.“Always good to see you, Captain Lamont,” Aric said.
The thinner woman took a step forward, angling her torso in such a way that her simple cloak parted below her shoulders to reveal a portion of the too-small top and too-short skirt she wore beneath. “Are you reallytheSentry?” She removed a hand from Lamont’s arm and placed her fingertips over her chest in dramatic fashion, simultaneously letting out a sound that in no way belonged in polite conversation. “Ah, it’s such an honor to be in your presence.”
The sound of a drawer slamming shut drew Aric’s attention back to Harald, visibly startling the women. Harald had pushed to his feet and was glaring in his son’s direction. “Honestly, Lennart, how many times do I have to tell you not to bring those saltwater skanks into my office?”
“Don’t be so grumpy, old man,” the woman who hadn’t addressed Aric said.
Lamont laughed dismissively. “It’s just your backup office. And we were only supposed to be meeting here, not staying.”
“It’s myreputation, you buffoon!”
Lamont seemed to ignore his father and looked past Aric, farther into the office—toward where Rochelle sat. “Well, looks like you found something better, anyway,” he said. His mouth lifted in a leer as he looked her over like she was the only one in the room.
The woman who’d grumbled at Harald moved to tug on Lamont’s shirt collar, clearly annoyed that she’d already been replaced, but it didn’t matter.
Aric reacted before he could stop himself and Captain Lennart Lamont was on his knees, magically chained to the floor. The women at either side of him let out startled half-shrieks and leapt back, but Aric kept his focus on his target. “Understand me, Lennart Lamont. Disrespect my apprentice again, and you will lose something you are very fond of.”
Lamont strained against the chains, attempting in turn to climb to his feet, or at least to free his arms from the way they’d been folded behind his back. But Aric’s magic was stronger and his struggle proved fruitless. Lamont growled at him in frustration. “Is this a joke? You’re attacking me over some random Zrynian cun—”
Harald stepped between them and smacked his son across the face. The swing did little more than twist Lennart’s head to the side, but Aric refrained for the moment from rotting away the younger Lamont’s infuriating tongue. “Are you a soldier or a brat?” Harald snapped. “There will be other holidays. Pull yourself together or leave with your skanks, but for the sake of all our ancestors, stop acting like a spoiled child. If you think I’ll interfere for you again today, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“You gotta stop calling us that, old man,” said the woman who’d grumbled at Harald previously.
“It’s what you are. Leave, and forget you were ever here.” Harald turned to move back to his desk even as he spoke.
The woman who’d flirted with Aric glared after Harald and opened her mouth with the clear intent to argue.
