Bianca paced the halls of Keep Blacksteel. The news of Death’s escape had found her ears minutes after it happened. Some believed she was patrolling for the prisoner if he came back, this was not her reasoning—she was angry, taking it out on herself by walking until her feet ached and her feelings of guilt and humiliation faded away.

  On the seventh circling of the castle, she came upon a statue of herself and smashed it to pieces with her Dragonhammer, screaming out, cursing her own name for not being able to get justice for the ‘poor families’ demanding retribution.

  “Destroying Keep Blacksteel one statue at a time is not the way to get the redemption this city needs,” said Stroke, sitting in the shadow of a statue of Godwin. “Destruction is the way of the weak. You are better than that.”

  Bianca didn’t turn to look at him. She unsummoned her weapon and discreetly glanced to her sides, checking for guards. Once none were seen, she spoke with a hiss in her tone. “You were needed at the council. You could’ve prevented this.”

  “I was there. My words wouldn’t have made a dent. Godwin had a plan for him, only the gods know what it was. As usual, we are left to pick up the scattered pieces of his mess.”

  “They’re going to punish Fiasco. Are you going do to anything about that?”

  “Are you going to?”

  Bianca peeked behind Godwin’s statue, meeting Stroke’s blue eyes in the dim light of a nearby torch.

  “I didn’t mean to be so aggressive,” she said. “This shouldn’t have happened. You are my friend. It wasn’t your fault.”

  She didn’t see Stroke’s smirk in the darkness. “You know what must be done now, don’t you?”

  “Killian says a cambion freed him. Why didn’t the Sentinels work against him?” she said. “If I’m going to hunt him down, I need to know what kind of man I’m dealing with. Was he able to resist the powers of the Sentinels?”

  “He resisted their influence,” Stroke lied. “Formidable, isn’t he? That must be how he managed to kill those lads at that farm without the towers striking him down.”

  “I’ll take the suggestion to Godwin.”

  Stroke reached out and held her still at her shoulder. “Fuck my brother,” he whispered. “Fuck the king; fuck the prince; fuck their council; fuck that little swine that sways Harren.”

  “Godwin is the king. We need a solution. We need it now. I will take the order to hunt down this man if he gives it.”

  “Violence is the solution,” Stroke hissed.

  “As is forgiveness,” she said gently. “Forgive your brothers for their treatment of you, join with them and come with me on this hunt to find our prisoner.”

  Stroked scoffed at how na?ve Bianca was choosing to be. He let her shoulder go, gesturing for her to leave. “Go then. Run to the king and tell him exactly what you want to do, see what he says.”

  Bianca’s feet felt heavy like steel.

  “That’s what I thought,” Stroke continued. “We are the only heroes in this city. My brothers have never known combat beyond their threats and bullying. They will never leave Vatanil to hunt down this man. They won’t send you. They won’t send me. Don’t you see what they’re trying to do?”

  She checked a second time for any invading ears. “I have my suspicions,” she admitted. “Ones I won’t voice.”

  “I’ll voice them.” Stroke entered the light. “This war they want against the Kans and cambions, it’s to get rid of us. We are the ones who don’t submit to them. They intend for the vanguard of the Vaelirian Bloods to be commanded by us. They want us to die in combat; don’t you see that?”

  She didn’t confirm or deny that she agreed. “Godwin and I have our differences, but he is still the king.”

  “You don’t answer to Godwin,” Stroke whispered. “You are an honourable woman, you say that out of respect and loyalty—if you asked him to lift a finger for you, he would spit in your face and remove you from the council until you apologise.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “We both know that it is. They don’t care about us. Do I need to remind you what they did to the one I named my protector?”

  “No. That was horrible what they did.”

  “And you were the only one who came to my chambers that night to wish me well.” He took Bianca’s hand firmly. “You are my sister in my heart. You are a Valan. You don’t need permission to do what you want to do.”

  An owl landed in a large opening, hooting at Bianca. She was an avid follower of the Voiceless One, and the mention of Stroke’s late protector struck a deep nerve.

  “I will find him and bring him to Godwin,” she offered. “That is what I can do. I won’t give the justice myself.”

  “Good.”

  “Are you coming with me?”

  “The Voiceless One has bid me to remain in the city each time I have tried to leave. My purpose is here. My path to Runaya relies on my presence. Don’t go alone.”

  “I will take my squire. Billid needs training.” She gave Stroke a sisterly hug. “When that prisoner is punished, I swear to you that I will help you find Runaya.”

  “That means a lot to me. There were reports of mass bodies they found in a few camps outside the Vatanil walls. Start there.”

  ————————————————————————

  The snake that was Mara hissed weavings of glory into Harren’s gullible ears.

  “You could be king one day,” she claimed. “Doesn’t that sound worthy of you? King Harren Valan, first of his name, a god amongst men… Queen Mara, the beauty of the nations.”

  “My brother is the king,” Harren reminded. “I will never have the title, nor will our children.”

  She twisted the sickle off from his stump, removing the ropes and belts keeping it secure. She laid him on their bed stomach-down, massaging his neck and shoulders whilst teasingly putting the full weight of her behind on his lower back.

  “He’s king of this nation,” she whispered. “The Kans would fall to you in battle… you know they would. We could rule the nation of Naveen while your brother stays here.”

  “He would never agree to that.”

  She pressed deep into a sore spot on his shoulder, making him moan in a painful pleasure. She loved watching his toned shoulders tense at her touch. “You’re a Valan. You don’t need permission to do things, do you?”

  “I don’t,” he declared through gritted teeth. “I am a god.”

  “You are a god.” She laid flat on his back, one arm massaging the stump of his arm, whispering into his ear. “A crown upon our heads, our children the heirs of a whole new nation… we can prove that even with our solitude from the other nations, Harren Valan is the strongest man across the lands.”

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  “Not even Godwin knows what power lies beyond Naveen. We don’t have the knowledge for—agh, fuck.”

  Mara dug her thumb into his shoulder blade, searching for a deep knot in the muscle and ironing it out with several hard rubs.

  “Sorry, what were you saying?” she teased. “All I hear is that you are so strong. The others fear you. They fear what you’re capable of. King Godwin knows what you’re capable of. So did your father and mother. That’s why they took your arm, put you on this leash—but you’re powerful, godly, you hold your own leash now.”

  “My brother shares my ultimate vision of Vatanil. This city shall soon see my strength.”

  She pouted and kissed the back of his neck, twirling the curls of his silky with her pinkie. “You have both eyes open,” she purred. “I fear Godwin only has one… Bianca has none… Stroke is blind.”

  “Do not say that little twat’s name to me.” Harren stuck the bed with his palm. “This city would be better off if we sent him to Roshishi to be dragon food.”

  “A dragon would spit him straight out. One chew. His disgusting weakness would be like poison to them.”

  Harren relaxed back into calmness. She continued to loosen his tense muscles.

  “You’re so strong,” she whispered. “So tall. Handsome. Great. The people love you.”

  “Describe my greatness more.” Harren shuffled awkwardly on the bedsheets, his lower back raising slightly. “Keep going.”

  “Rats yipping at a roaring lion. You are a god. You will have statues of your figure erected in every nation.”

  “Keep going. Don’t stop. Tell me everything that’s good about me. Just keep speaking.”

  Harren gripped the sheets tightly, crossing his feet, adjusting the position of his legs each time Mara finished her sentences with a slight moan. She grew gentler with her hands, staying around the parts she knew he liked the most, like giving a puppy scratches in their favourite spot.

  “Your muscles are so toned. Your face is perfect for worship. Your arms are so dense, like poking a brick.”

  His breaths were getting heavier. “Keep. Going.”

  “You’re so good at pleasuring your wife. You’re so good at killing your enemies. You’re my king. You’re my god. You’re—”

  The door to his chambers swung open with a bang and without knock. Bollo announced himself by screaming his own name and saluting the prince with a bow.

  “M’prince! I bring news!” The smell of ale and sweat drifted into the room. “It is urgent.”

  Harren pushed himself upright with so much strength that Mara flung off the bed, whacking her head against the floor.

  “Damnit, Bollo,” Harren grunted. “Can’t you see I was almost—gah, never mind—what do you want?”

  “Sorry, m’prince, I didn’t mean to interrupt your fun.”

  “This better be worth it,” Mara groaned. “Mustn’t be that urgent if they’re sending you of all people.”

  “That’s what I said, m’princess! They insisted I come to bring the word to you.”

  “Who insisted?” Harren snarled.

  “Killian Entrail, m’prince.”

  “That damned mutt, thinking he has the authority to disturb me in the late hours of the night. Speak.”

  “The prisoner has escaped.”

  “Prisoner? Which one?”

  “The one from the Leaky Knight, m’prince.”

  Harren struck Bollo in the jaw and threw him to the floor with Mara. “You idiot,” he growled. “Next time, start with that. Where is my brother? Tell me now.”

  Bollo handled the attack gracefully, clicking his jaw back into place with a chuckle. “The throne room, m’prince. Would you like me to accompany you?”

  “Absolutely not, you bald twat. Stay here. Stay with Mara, kill anyone you don’t recognise who tries to come in. And if you even think about touching my wife, I will rip off your scalp and feed your brain to the crows.”

  Mara teasingly touched Bollo’s leg with a seductive wink. He kept his eyes on Harren, ignoring her temptation.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, m’prince, I’ll keep her safe.”

  ————————————————————————

  Killian dragged Fiasco to King Godwin’s throne by her hair.

  She was now conscious, begging for him to loosen his grip and that she could walk on her own.

  “Be quiet, little bitch,” Killian snarled. “You will answer to the king for your weakness.”

  He threw her at Godwin’s mercy, a crowd of one hundred Valan Guards bickering amongst each other.

  The king remained silent, disappointed. He gave a stern look to Zishang, who silenced the Valan guards with several slams of his spear against the floor.

  “Silence in the name of King Godwin!” he hollered. “Captain Killian, take your place at the other side of the throne.”

  Killian smacked Fiasco one final time before following Zishang’s order.

  “Please, my king,” she begged. “I did the best that I could.”

  Godwin stood from his throne and walked down the shallow steps. The power he held as he stood over her frightened her. She thought she was going to die. He gently put a hand on her throat, ordering her to sink to her knees.

  “The prisoner is gone,” Godwin whispered. “On your watch. Half the dungeons are in ruin. You wrecked your way into a storage chamber above the cells. You sent the guards away. No one saw the battle, how do I know you didn’t let him escape?”

  Her eyes twitched, feeling his fingers tighten. Godwin clicked his fingers, two Valan guards tied Fiasco’s hands behind her back with godsteel chains.

  “Godwin, please—”

  “I am the king,” he reminded. “You’ll address me as king.”

  “My king,” Zishang yelled. “Fiasco has always been loyal to the city and its people. I wasn’t there to see the battle, but there is no question that she gave it everything she had. Look at her arms, my king, cut up like she shoved her arms into a hill of knives.”

  “It’s not your decision,” Killian grunted. “Don’t think because you have a fancy seat on the council that your opinion matters.”

  “His opinion does matter,” said Godwin. “Zishang is proving to be an excellent man. You boast a big dick when outside Vatanil, in my kingdom, you’re my bitch. Apologise.”

  “That is not necessary, my king,” Zishang insisted.

  “He will apologise,” Godwin snarled. “Or he’ll be the next one on his knees in this throne room.”

  Killian mumbled an apology and never said a word more, his balls in his throat, cowardly refusing to contest King Godwin.

  “I respect your opinion,” Godwin continued. “You are valued, Zishang. However, the punishment for this weakness is Death.”

  “King Godwin, please!” Fiasco begged. “I did all I could.”

  “Shhh… silence now. I don’t want this to be messy.” He choked her until she turned purple, the power of the God Arm crushing her throat to near-death. She fought against the chains, tears streaming from her eyes.

  Zishang couldn’t watch. He closed his eyes and begged for his cousin’s forgiveness. “I tried,” he whispered. “The king’s decision is the king’s decision.”

  The doors to the throne room flung open. Quinn marched down the carpet. The Valan guards pointed their spears at him.

  “Get those bloody things out my face or I’ll kill the lot of you!” he growled. “None of you scare me.”

  Godwin’s grip loosened. Fiasco took a sharp breath.

  “No invite was given to you,” Godwin said flatly. “Leave this throne room. You are interrupting my execution.”

  Quinn spread his arms and knelt. “I will take the punishment of death in her stead,” he said firmly. “My king, I will not take no for an answer on this matter.”

  “You dare speak to the king that way?” Killian screamed. “Give me the order to kill this mongrel, my king.”

  Godwin was intrigued by the devotion. “Very well then. I accept this trade. On your knees, monkey-boy. Killian, do the honours of taking his head.”

  Zishang stretched his naginata across the throne and kept Killian where he stood. “If we are trading punishments, I will take the place of Captain Quinn.”

  “Now, Zishang, I thought you didn’t let your own blood sway your decisions?” Godwin said in disappointment.

  “It’s nothing to do with blood, my king. I don’t believe Fiasco deserves an execution, nor do I believe Captain Quinn deserves to lose his head. If trading consequences is an option, the punishment should fall to me. I decided the order of duty. I put Fiasco in that dungeon at that time. The fault is mine.”

  “Do you think they would do the same for you?” Godwin asked. “I’ll grant you your request if you answer truthfully.”

  “No,” Zishang said. “I don’t think they would. That doesn’t change that it’s what I’d do.”

  Godwin order the Valan guard to raise their spears. “There will be no punishment of Death. But there will be punishment. Captain Quinn, take her outside into the front courtyard, amass a crowd of commonfolk. Harren will punish her accordingly, for all to see.”

  Quinn carried her in his arms, holding her close and allowing her to cry into his chest. “Thank you, my king.”

  “Thank your cousin,” he hissed. “The next time either of you fail me, it’s death for you both.”