Countess Cynthia Blackwell

"From the beginning, Sal," I said, trying to control the fury in my voice. It disgusted me to have to be in the presence of this man right now. Everything had gone wrong. Not unfixable, but definitely not according to plan. "That fool of a husband swore that the duke would not go completely mad."

"He could have made a mistake with the dosage. We fed the remains of the soup to a dog. For a normal dose, the dog would not have reacted, but whatever was in there caused the dog to temporarily become erratic."

"There is nothing temporary about the duke's condition. The man is completely insane," I said in frustration.

"It doesn't affect dogs the same way. The fact that there was a reaction at all means the doses were high."

"If the boy hadn't been trying to save the duke's life when everyone arrived, we could have blamed him for this whole mess. I want to know which council member got Philip to make the boy a count. I will be having words with him. I now owe Count Malertis a favor for convincing Philip to shove him right into the path of the raiders. I am sure he would have hidden himself away near Decmoore if not for that. It disgusts me that Malertis has more influence over the new duke than I do."

"We have thought about how to fix that problem. The duke killed your husband, after all. You deserve compensation," Sal said calmly.

"Good. Let us review your plans in a moment. What about the other matter concerning Bicman?"

"Yes, my lady. As you know, we received a report from Vaspar stating that Bicman may have been aware of the raid. Upon further investigation, we gathered supporting evidence of that. We found that, for some reason, the Baron had his Captain of the Guard return to Bicman. At the same time, he began buying large amounts of food and supplies. No weapons but metals that could be turned into weapons. After arriving here, Kimton's steward sent a message to Vaspar that was supposed to be sent to Bicman. We intercepted the letter, and it was never passed. It said two words; Cove Rabiss."

The short man paused for a moment and then continued. "If that information is all that was sent, then we must assume that they know there is a threat. We sent a spy up to Bicman. He has just now returned to Vaspar. The pigeon he sent states that Bicman has a small fighting force of about four hundred men and women. They are all at various levels of training, and many will flee before a battle even starts."

"But he has them. Where did he get them?" I said angrily.

"They are all his peasants. The spy was not overly impressed with the quality of their gear or ability. But they are also building fortifications, which will cause problems for the raid. Since his captain did not receive the message of where the raid would be coming from, he is building fortifications in the north and the south. All the villages are capable of housing three hundred people, and they are building more."

"What about the people that the king sent? I hear there are more than was expected," I said.

"This is actually a very good thing. They are all a bunch of peasants. They will only drain Bicman's limited resources. Our spy left when the north winds began to bring winter to Bicman. Many will freeze and die of starvation while the new count attempts to save them."

"Good. Let's make sure our people continue to stop the flow of information to and from Bicman. Send some mercenaries north and seize any supplies going to Bicman."

"We will send the news to Rabiss. Let the raiders know that they are expected. They will want to know that more slaves will be available for the taking. Tell them we recommend that they at least double the number of raiders. Is there anything else?"

"The source of the leak," Sal said.

"Ah, yes. Explain."

"We discovered that Bicman went to the Temple of the Endless One shortly before seeing the Count. He spoke with the Priestess Tanya. If you remember correctly, she assisted him in removing Decmoore."

"You are not seriously suggesting the Endless One is actually interfering in the events of this world?"

"It would seem a coincidence except for the fact that the count himself visited the girl shortly after. After that, an agent reported that the count offhandedly mentioned that "it appears the Endless One has an interest in Bicman."

This didn't make sense. The Endless One did not care about the wars of mere mortals. Whole nations were slaughtered at the hands of others. I didn't think the Endless One would care about a single barony. However, it was never good to leave things to chance. We will have to test this. After what I have done for that old man, I am far past redemption anyways.

"If Bicman survives this, I may be willing to admit that the Endless one has an interest in the affairs of men. First, we must eliminate the variables. Have the priestess killed."

This caused Sal to take a step back. But he eventually nodded his head. "As you wish, countess."

"Also, respond to Baron Sophis's letter. I agree that now is the time to remove the steward of Kimton. However, we cannot act independently on this. We have lost the count and his connection to the duke. Organize a vote in the council."

"Yes, my lady."

I sighed. I should have never bought into Blackwell's plan. Now, I am stuck with his blasted faction. Unless Sal's next plan is good enough, those blood-sucking members of the council will turn on me.

"You said we can benefit from my husband's death. Tell me everything," I said. Hoping for some good news.

Duke Norris Falmore

I stared down at the ruby-red liquid in my mug. It seemed that I needed more and more wine to settle my nerves these days.

Denise entered the room, and a look of concern immediately appeared on my young wife's face.

"What troubles you, husband?" she said as she walked over and sat on my lap. I wrapped my arm around her waist, and she leaned her head on my shoulder. She was my one joy in this increasingly dreary world.

"It is the usual. My nephew refuses to act. He is so paralyzed by fear of losing everything that the kingdom is falling apart. We found another few agents of the council and traced them back to the barons they work."

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

"What will you do?"

"There are knights in the kingdom who deserve elevation. We will execute the traitor and his family and give the land to one of those who helped us uncover the spies. I am not even going to bring this to the king's attention. And that bothers me."

"He is a good man," she said.

"And I love him for that, but he is weak. He is too eager to please. And fears his own councilor's displeasure. If it had not been for people like Vapar, he would have lost the kingdom long ago."

"Do not give all the credit to your friend, dear. The king needs you more than anyone. And not all is lost. I have gathered a lot of information. Even if the people are displeased with the king, most understand the dangers we face and that unity is the best option. Dissensions only serve to weaken our nation. They want the war to end, but not at the cost of all we have gained. How are the negotiations with Turabe going? Are they willing to attack from the south?"

"We offered them the Hitub capital and all the lands south of it if they would assist, but they are weary of us. We are known for our desire to unite the world and fear that aiding us will only open them up for an attack. They enjoy the buffer Hitub provides. I think we have enough outposts and men along the front to secure what we have gained. The supply chains and roads have been improved, so I think it may be time to withdraw and secure the border. It is only a matter of convincing my Nephew it is time for an armistice."

"That would be nice. Who is the traitor?"

I sighed. I had hoped to avoid this. It was what was troubling me most. Executions were always harder when you liked the people.

"It is someone I know, isn't it?"

"Manticole."

Denise's body stiffened. I looked down and saw a single tear roll down her face. The words were barely audible as they escaped her lips. "Oh, little Cathy."

Tom

I was dying. The hunger faded days ago, but I ran out of water, and now my world is consumed by thirst. I couldn't leave the shop. The master had taken my coverings. All of them were thrown into the fire before he abandoned me. He knew I might try and flee before my new master arrived.

He told me to wait here for my new master. I had waited. I didn't know how many days it had been. I did not wait for my new master to come and get me. I was waiting for him to kill me. He would be disgusted by what he saw.

Misery, life was only full of misery. Before they took me from my mother, she had said to find the hand of happiness. I had tried. I had tried so hard for her. But how could I find happiness? There was no such thing as happiness for someone like me. And now I was dying. I had failed her.

I prayed every night to Lord Malitouma just as Mother had taught me. I prayed for my mother and for his hand. Now, I prayed for the hand of death, and still, he denied me. Why couldn't I just die?

Was that a pounding on the door, or was the delirium back? Voices like the whispers of ghosts drifted to me from somewhere.

"My lord, there is no answer, and it is quiet inside."

The response was too soft to hear.

There was a loud crash, and suddenly, light poured in from the open doorway. Soldiers started to enter.

"It looks empty, my lord."

"Well, crap. There goes my fifty gold. I need a glassmaker."

"We will find the man. We will put out a notice."

The one they called lord, my hand of death, laughed. "Good luck. He is probably halfway across the kingdom by now. Why would he give up his shop for a measly fifty gold."

"I'm guessing there is more to him leaving them than meets the eye," the soldier said.

They had come. They will kill me.

It was at that moment I realized I wasn't ready to die.

MaIitouma, send thy hand of protection.

I scooted further into the corner. A loose stone moved and made a soft noise.

"Who's there?"

"Rick, if they are hiding, they aren't going to answer you. Men open the windows."

Suddenly, light flooded the room, exposing me. I huddled tightly into a ball, waiting for the angry shouting to start. Instead, there was a long pause.

"Huh, well, that's not what I expected. Hey kid. Show me your face."

I didn't move. The terror of death had gripped my heart.

"You heard the count, look up," said a harsher voice.

"Chill, Rick, looks like the kid has had it pretty rough. Kid, I got some food. Can you tell me what happened to the people who used to be here?"

I looked up at the largest man I had ever seen standing with crutches. And I saw something—something I don't think I had seen since I last saw my mother. What was the expression? Worry? Was he worried about me?

I heard another voice farther away. "My lord, I must insist you get off your feet. It is not good for your leg."

"I'm not on my foot, Benjamin. I'm on my crutches, so stop babying me. Now come look what we have here."

Another man stepped into the light. He looked down at me and then took a step back with a look of concern on his face. "My lord, that isn't who I think it is, is it?"

"Oh, I think it is exactly who you think it is," the count said in a voice that made it seem like he thought the sight of me was a big joke.

"This is not good, my lord."

"What are you talking about? It's fine. I don't care what color the boy's skin is."

"Many in Bicman will have a problem with it in a few months. Nobody is going to want someone from Rabiss near them."

"The kid will just join our merry band of misfits. We are going to help this boy to help us to change everything." The count said

"You are a true optimist, my lord," the man he called Benjamin said.

"It's a good thing, too, or this whole situation would drive me insane."

When the man turned back to me, he smiled. He smiled at me. When was the last time I had seen a smile?

"Well, I am going to assume you are Tom. I think it is time we all went home," the large man said.

Emily Papermaker

I ran my hand along the polished wood of the new pulp maker. I thought it was funny. Even though it did the same thing as the first two, it was special—not just because the stonecutters, Jorb, and the woodworkers had all put extra care into it, but because it was my first birthday gift. People weren't supposed to get birthday gifts unless they were noble. We were allowed to do nice things for each other, but birthdays were supposed to be a time to reflect on one's last year of life.

Amos said that was stupid. He said it was ok to reflect, but birthdays should be celebrated. He would give a loaf of bread or a small scoop of honey to the children on their birthday. For adults, he had started giving them things they may need, such as new bowls or plates. Sleep stockings or caps. He sometimes wrote small letters to people wishing them a happy birthday. They were always folded in half. Sometimes, they were funny. After he brought back coins from his first visit to Vaspar, He started giving copper pennies to the children.

The pulp maker reminded me of him. It made me smile, but it also made me sad. We hadn't heard any news from him in so long. I missed him. I missed his smile. I missed the way he would make me laugh. I missed the way he would call me Em, even when Benjamin frowned at him.

I wish he were here. I wish he could see all the papers we had made for the publishing house and all the cheaper papers we had just sent to Vaspar. He would probably ruffle my hair and say, "Good job," and I would hate it and love it at the same time.

I looked around one last time at all the work that had been done. It had been a good day, and the other kids had worked hard. Thanks to the new pulp maker, all the racks were full.

As the light from the sun started to fade, I hurried to make sure everything was in order for tomorrow when the boys came in. Suddenly, the door to the paper-making shop opened. When I turned around, Billy was in the doorway. At least, I thought it was Billy. He was wearing Billy's cloak with the hood pulled up, but I had been working every day with Billy's for the last few months. Billy was taller.

My heart started to pound rapidly in my chest as the person closed the door behind him. I was about to scream when he pulled his hood back.

“Marcus,” I said in a barely audible voice. His hair was a mess, and he now had a scraggly beard, but I knew it was him.

Carrie's brother looked at me like a predator who had just caught its prey. He smiled. “Happy Birthday, Emily.”

The End

Up next: Book 3, The Hand of Malitouma