Bastial Steel (5 page)

Cleve shook the King’s hand, remembering Rek’s answer to Jessend on the boat. “He’s only a danger to his enemies.” Cleve kept his tone lighthearted, only realizing then that what he was about to say aloud was the truth. “And we have no enemies in Goldram…at least none that we’re aware of.”

“Well, it looks like you just made some enemies in Presoren and Waywen,” Danvell said.

“I can live with that.”
Especially given they would’ve murdered a child.

Danvell took in a slow breath, still clearly considering whether or not he wanted the psychic in his palace, let alone in the same room as him.

Finally he turned to Jessend. “I’ll have someone bring Micah Vail and this psychic in here. But I want ten guards between me and him first. I hope he won’t be insulted.”

“He won’t,” Cleve guessed. “By now, he’s used to being feared.”

Only then did Cleve realize he had little idea what had just happened. Both kings nearly had been killed by their own men, and it was right after a discussion of alliances that somehow came as a surprise to the Takary family.

What did I just step into?

Chapter 3

When Rek and Micah entered, Danvell was cowered in the opposite corner, ten guards lined in front of him just like he’d said.

Cleve almost laughed at the idea of it, like they’d really be able to stop Rek if he wanted to harm Danvell.

“Bastial hell,” Micah uttered, his hand going over his mouth. “What happened in here?”

Rek came to Cleve’s side. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Cleve felt numb from the whole thing and was glad for it.

“They want me to question someone?” Rek asked.

Cleve pointed at the still unconscious man. They’d put him in a chair, his slouched body held up by ropes.

“Him,” Cleve said.

He could overhear Danvell speaking with Micah Vail in a low voice, but Cleve was too far away for their words to be clear.

“Is there anything you can do to bring a man back into consciousness?” Cleve asked.

“Nothing with psyche,” Rek admitted, kneeling next to the man for a touch to his forehead. His hand shifted to the man’s cheek, patting it roughly until his eyes popped open.

“What’s your name?” Rek asked the now frightened man.

“Podd.” He glanced around. With one eye squinted, he seemed dazed. Slowly, though, both eyes opened wider as they found Cleve. The man tried to stand, but the ropes prevented him from doing so.

Looking down, he noticed the restraints then, fear suddenly making his actions frantic as his head swung around the room and his hands tried to free themselves.

“Stop,” Rek said, reaching his palm out. “Or I’ll need to hurt you.”

Podd investigated Rek. “You’re an Elf!”

“And a psychic,” Rek told him. “So I’ll punish you if you lie.”

Podd took in a loud breath, leaning as far back as he could. The chair tipped backward, slamming into the ground. He scrambled unsuccessfully to get to his feet, reminding Cleve of a beetle that had gotten flipped onto its shell.

“Get away from me!” Podd yelled as Rek came to his side.

Rek pulled the chair back upright. Placing his hand on the man’s shoulder, he said, “Relax. There’s no need to be afraid as long as you’re honest. Can you do that?”

Podd’s struggles stopped. He lowered his head and gave a subtle nod.

“Good,” Rek said. “Now, tell me what happened here? Tell me everything you remember.”

“They attacked me and my son!” the King of Zav yelled, gesturing aggressively. “Ask him why he did it!” Then, the King quickly stepped back, making sure to keep his distance from Rek.

“You heard his question,” Rek said. “Now answer it.”

“I don’t know why,” Podd claimed. “I was just told to do it.”

“That’s a lie.” Rek held out his hand to pain the man with psyche.

Podd screamed and cursed the Elf. Cleve noticed frightened gasps and murmurs buzzing around the room.

This might not be a good idea,
he was beginning to believe.
Are they going to throw Rek in prison after this, perhaps exile him like the King of Kyrro did?

Rek didn’t seem to be concerned, though. He was busy making demands.

“Start at the beginning,” Rek said. “Why was this murder plot set up?”

Podd seemed defeated, giving out a slow breath before answering. “Waywen and Presoren want control of Goldram and the Bastial steel crater.” His gaze stayed on his lap with quick glances to the King of Zav between words. “We’ve been planning to take over both Goldram and Zav for years.”

“You bastard,” the King of Zav muttered. “You would’ve killed my son. You made me think we were friends. Years! I could kill you right now.”

Podd didn’t lift his head. “We were planning to release the desmarls around The Nest and attack while the Takary Army was distracted. But there were problems with the men responsible for the desmarls. Then we found out about the kidnapping of Prince Harwin and this meeting. The plan changed to kill both kings and Harwin. Based on the rumors of war starting between Goldram and Zav, it would just look like they’d attacked each other. Especially after the kidnapping, everyone would’ve believed it.”

“Is this really the truth?” The King of Zav was incredulous.

“It is,” Rek answered.

“Chaos would then ensue,” Podd continued. “Waywen and Presoren were to attack while leadership was still being decided in Zav and Danvell Takary’s son and successor, Raymess, was all the way in Chanren.”

“So, that’s why your armies have been moving,” the King of Zav realized.

“Yes. As soon as news reached Waywen and Presoren about the assassinations, they would strike.”

“I’m so sorry about the kidnapping of Harwin,” Danvell said, his low voice faint through the wall of guards. “I made a terrible mistake.”

“All of that is behind us,” the King of Zav answered.

Cleve had a question he couldn’t hold any longer. “Why weren’t they checked for knives?”

“They were,” Danvell said. “No one in this room was allowed any weapons.”

“Then how did this man come in with two of them around his ankle?” Cleve asked.

Podd answered, his voice soft from shame. “There was a guard of Goldram outside the door who was a spy for us. He hid the weapons within the palace. When I excused myself to use the bathroom, I equipped myself with them.”

“There were two guards outside the door,” Danvell said, addressing the guards between him and Rek. “What happened to Ken, who stood beside the traitor? I never saw him enter the room.”

One guard turned to address his king. “He was killed by the traitor, your highness. We were going to tell you after. His throat was slit.”

“So much death,” Danvell muttered.

Cleve suddenly felt sick, disgusted even. There were speckles of blood along his hands and arms. He wiped his cheek to find more there. He’d heard enough of this conversation. Knowing he was no longer needed, he approached Jessend.

Her eyes were lost along the marred tiles of the ground.

“I would like a bath, if that’s alright,” Cleve said.

Life came back into her face after she looked up at him. She wrapped herself around him, squeezing almost too tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He felt the urge to embrace her. She’d already ruined her elegant dress by pressing against him, blood surely staining it. But he still refrained, not wanting to give her the impression that he cared for her in that way.

“We have showers here from the aqueducts,” Jessend informed him. “They are much better than a bath.” She stepped back, taking his bloody right hand with both of hers but not seeming to care. “I would like to see my sister and speak with my father. I’ll have someone take you to the showers and give you fresh clothing. I’m sure we’ll find something that can fit.”

The clothing given to Cleve made him think Jessend was playing a joke on him. But with all the recent deaths, he figured she wouldn’t do that at this time.

The pants were simple enough. They were dark blue and came with a belt dyed gold. The white undershirt was easy to figure out as well.

It was the fancy coat that confused him. It looked to be a jumbled mess of sleeves, straps, and buttons.

He tried to put his arm in what he thought to be the left sleeve, but there was a puzzling amount of extra hanging fabric, making him believe he was wearing it the wrong way. Turning it around, Cleve pulled the sleeves inside out.

Then the coat made sense to him. He slipped it on.

Why would they give it to me inside out?

But then he noticed the buttons were poking into his skin. Clearly, it was wrong. Letting out a discouraged breath, he turned it in on itself again to make it how it was before.

He tried sticking both arms in wherever they would go. But then it hung loosely from his shoulders like a torn towel. The damn thing had too many buttons, and they didn’t just go down the middle of the coat. There were long straps with buttons on them as well.

After ten minutes of failing and building frustration, he jerked open the door to find two guards stationed outside.

“How do I put this stupid thing on?” Cleve asked, incapable of fighting the irritation coming out in his voice.

The guards laughed. One took a step toward him, reaching out a hand. But he seemed to see someone over Cleve’s shoulder and stopped, stiffening his back.

A voice came from behind Cleve. “That
stupid thing
is only given to honored guests.” Danvell Takary had a smile to show he wasn’t offended.

“My king.” The guards bowed their heads.

“Help him with that,” the monarch told them.

One took the longest strap and brought it diagonally across Cleve’s chest twice. He took the other strap around Cleve’s stomach and tucked it into the first one, snapping gold buttons to keep them together.

Cleve soon figured out the rest, doing the buttons himself.

“Join us for dinner, Cleve,” Danvell said. “There’s much we need to discuss. Tell me what’s happening in Kyrro. I’ve heard it from Jessend, but she’s been known to exaggerate. You don’t seem the type to do the same.”

“Kyrro is at war with the neighboring territory, Tenred,” Cleve began as he walked down the hall with Danvell. “Krepps have sided with Tenred to fight against us.”

“I knew that was true,” Danvell said. “I want to hear more about your attack on your own king’s castle.”

Oh, that.

Cleve studied the King of Goldram to get a sense of what he’d already assumed. Danvell’s tone was indifferent so far, showing no signs of derision. With a flat mouth and eyes gazing ahead steadily, his face revealed no emotions, either.

Cleve just decided to tell the truth as he remembered it.

As he described his missing bow, the meeting with the King of Kyrro, and his order to kill Rek, Cleve couldn’t pay attention to where he was being led. With guards close behind Danvell, they traveled through many hallways before reaching a stairway that led them to even more hallways.

It became clear to Cleve that he didn’t know if he was being led deeper into the palace or farther from its center. Even if he wanted to flee, he wouldn’t know which direction to go.

“So, this Elf is an enemy of Kyrro?” Danvell asked halfway through Cleve’s tale.

“No, that’s just a misunderstanding. He wants to fight with Kyrro against Tenred. That’s why we tried to speak with King Welson, to convince him of this.”

“But if he’s a psychic, then he could’ve twisted your mind into believing he was an ally.” Danvell stated it like a fact.

“There’s a lot about psyche you don’t know.”

The King stopped, showing Cleve a malignant glare. “I have many experts in all kinds of subjects. I am the King of Goldram. There is much I know that you do not, and it would be wise for you to remember that.”

At the thought of being thrown in prison, Cleve felt his eyes bulging. “I apologize.”
I’d better watch my words more carefully.
“What I meant was that there was a lot I thought I knew about psyche until I met Rek and Reela.”

“Reela?”

Reela…
Cleve hadn’t meant to let out her name. He took a breath as he thought of how to describe her. “A psychic who’s related to Rek. They each taught me a lot, and I’m certain Rek fights for Kyrro.”

“I wouldn’t trust psychics, but if you choose to do so then that’s your decision. I won’t try to change your mind. Right now, Rek is with Micah Vail, my top adviser. The Elf has been told not to speak with me directly or to be in the same room as me. I’ll feel more comfortable about keeping him in the palace as long as these rules are followed.”

Yet your top adviser is a psychic as well,
Cleve dared not say. At least not then when there was no reason to.

The King continued. “So I hope you can communicate for me if we need the Elf’s assistance.”

“I can,” Cleve said.

Two women walked by, each wearing an elegant gown embroidered with the blue soaring wings of the Takary sigil. It reminded Cleve of Jessend.