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“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” Clive spat.
Jori stepped closer to the bars. “Wouldn’t I?”
Sten hadn’t thought so, but in that moment, he wasn’t so sure.
“The others would rip you apart.”
Odson snorted. “Would they now?”
“Clive, all of your visitors are recorded. No one gets down here without permission.” Sten said.
“So?”
“Four visitors. Two of which are your cousins, one you owe money to and the other is a youngling that I’m sure you’ve swindled into some scheme.”
“That doesn’t sound like a lot of support to me,” Odson said, checking the edges of his nails.
Losing patience, Sten said, “Look, I told you that all you have to do is take an oath of loyalty and an oath to preserve the safety and secret of Aeleftheria’s location.”
“And I suppose you took those oaths? You fucking traitor.”
“I told you that you’re wasting your breath. You can’t reason with these two.” Odson said, looking at his watch.
“Yeah, it’s getting late for you old man. Why don’t you fuck off to your rocking chair for a nap?”
“Not a bad idea. I have a couple of sturdy ones that I made for my cabin. I’ll make one for Kymri and the baby.” Odson said to Jori.
“You’re right, this is a waste of time.” Jori said. Turning to Clive and Merwin, he said, “Your choices are the oaths where you can stay among the mountain tribe—or a blood oath, and you can both get the fuck out. Final option, I turn you over to the Aeleftherian Council, who are quite ruthless in their judgments. They were willing to execute me for accidentally landing in their territory. I’ll be sending them a courtesy message after Kargassa’s funeral.”
“Funeral?” Merwin said, glancing at Clive. “You’re holding a funeral for Kargassa? You killed him, took his throne and are now holding a funeral for him.”
Jori took another step closer to the bars. “According to the ancient books, that’s what good conquerors do.”
“Let us go to the funeral and we’ll consider your oaths. We should be there. We were his top dragons.” Clive’s glare slid to Stenlen.
Jori shook his head. “Take the oaths and I’ll consider letting you attend. You have three days.” He turned his back on them and strode toward the door.
Odson followed him.
Sten lingered. They’d given decades of their lives to Kargassa—served him together. They’d never been buddies, but they’d worked well together.
“What, Sten? What do you want?” Clive barked.
“Did either of you know Kargassa wrote an autobiography?”
Merwin shrugged. Clive shook his head. “And?”
“I came across it in the library a couple of days ago. Neither of you are mentioned in it by name. Nor am I, or Eamerson. Or any other dragon in this tribe.”
“Your point?” Clive scowled at him.
It was Sten’s turn to shrug. “No point. Just interesting. See you in a few days.”
“Fucking traitor.”
Sten didn’t flinch, though it stung every time he heard it. No matter who said it.
Chapter 10
