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‘Welcome to Vios, Althea Zoltaire of Thezmarr,’ Queen Reyna declared, opening her arms wide in a grand gesture. ‘And of course, welcome to your companions as well.’ She dipped her head to Cal and Kipp.
The trio bowed low. It was not their first time before royalty, but Thea didn’t think it got any easier.
‘Thank you, Your Majesty. Your kingdom is every bit as beautiful as they say,’ Thea managed, daring to glance up at the dais. Her training kept her reaction in check, but she nearly baulked at who she saw stationed nearby. One of King Artos’ dungeon masters. She wouldn’t have recognised him but for the jewellery he wore. Even a year ago she’d found it odd for a man in his position: a gemstone nasal piercing and a dozen bronze bangles on each wrist. He’d been there in the dungeons of Hailford when Hawthorne had interrogated those half-wraiths.
‘And as unforgiving, no doubt,’ the queen replied with a small smile, wrenching Thea’s attention back to the rulers. ‘We have you to thank for the capture and imprisonment of the fallen Warsword, Wilder Hawthorne, is that correct?’
Thea had been dreaming of this moment for a solid year. Almost every night she had imagined the warm satisfaction that would pour through her with this victory. Over and over she had fantasised about how all would feel right in the world again, how every hurt, every trial would have been worth it to see justice done. And yet, not a flicker of those emotions came. There was no joy, no sense of achievement, no pride at having fulfilled a duty. Instead, she found herself suppressing the urge to fidget, to look around the hall for any sign of the man himself.
But she nodded. ‘Yes, Your Majesty. Along with my fellow Thezmarrians, Callahan Whitlock and Kristopher Snowden.’
‘The midrealms owes you a great debt, Guardians.’
‘We only did what honour and duty demanded, Your Majesty,’ Thea replied.
‘You have done us proud, Althea!’ King Artos’ voice boomed, and he strode down the dais steps and clasped Thea’s hands in his, his emerald eyes bright. ‘I knew you were destined forgreatness the moment you saved my life at the feast all that time ago.’
Hawthorne’s words crept to the forefont of her mind.‘It’s Artos, Thea…Artosis responsible for the blight upon the midrealms.He’sthe one letting the reapers and monsters through the Veil.’
Thea hadn’t believed him, hadn’t wanted to. But something oily slid across her skin at Artos’ touch, and she resisted the impulse to pull her hands from his. ‘Thank you, sire.’
He didn’t let go. ‘You timed it perfectly. While we celebrate the ultimate triumph over darkness with the Moonfire Eclipse, you have indeed triumphed over shadow and brought a traitor to justice.’
In her periphery, Thea caught a blur of movement. Two towering figures standing by the farthest wall.
Torj Elderbrock, the Bear Slayer, with his war hammer strapped to his back… and Vernich Warner, the Bloodletter. The two remaining Warswords of Thezmarr. The last time she’d seen them, they’d both given her their blessing to hunt their comrade down.
The back of her neck prickled as she felt another pair of eyes settle on her.
Osiris, the Guild Master of Thezmarr.
‘Bring him Thezmarr’s justice… Do that, Althea Zoltaire, and his swords are yours.’His final words to her rang clear as bells in her ears. She had done exactly that. She had both of Hawthorne’s scabbards strapped to her back, the weight of Naarvian steel somehow not as comforting as it had once been. What if she didn’t want his swords? What if she wanted her own, as she’d always intended?
‘When is the trial?’ she asked, only just remembering to tack on, ‘Your Majesty?’
King Artos at last dropped her hands and turned to his fellow rulers. ‘We had not yet set a date, had we?’
King Leiko of Tver shook his head. ‘Let him rot a while, I say.’
It took all of Thea’s training to suppress the flinch that followed those words.
‘Queen Reyna?’ King Artos prompted the Aveum ruler with a respectful nod to her husband as well.
‘We shall deal with the details of the trial after the eclipse. The celestial event is far more important than the fate of a fallen Warsword,’ the queen answered.
Thea’s stomach churned.
‘Indeed, my love,’ King Elkan agreed. ‘We shall hear no more of his treachery until after the festivities. He has darkened our realms enough this past year.’
King Artos gave a nod of approval. ‘As our hosts wish it.’
Unease coiled tightly in Thea, but her attention was snatched to where Captain Barker lingered on the outskirts of the hall, not so subtly trying to catch King Artos’ attention. The king beckoned him forth, and the captain approached, whispering something inaudible. When he was done, he slipped away without ceremony, leaving King Artos to turn back to Thea.
‘My dear Guardian… First, you save my life in Harenth, now you have saved my daughter’s as well?’ His voice boomed across the hall, full of pride and gratitude, commanding the attention of everyone in attendance. The space radiated with his joy, his warmth. ‘Captain Barker has just informed me of your heroics on the road. Jasira has told him that were it not for you, she would be dead… or worse.’
A unified gasp echoed around the room.
King Artos rested a hand over his heart. ‘I will forever be in your debt, Althea Zoltaire.’
