Curse of Blades (Blades #1)

Chapter 10

[Note: This was originally included in Curse of Blades: Book 2, but as of July 28th, 2021, I began combining the 3 Curse of Blades books into a single one.]

Lord Varin stood before the gathered men who would become his army's foundation. They were all men and boys just old enough to hold a weapon, all dragged by force from their homes in the early morning hours. All were frightened, kneeling with bowed heads in Varin's personal throne room.

Varin grinned.

"Citizens of Arren," he addressed them. "Today you will join the greatest avenging army of our world's history. For generations the people of Arren have been ignored and dismissed by the crown. Our troubles have never mattered to them while they are surrounded by their petty ways. Now we must fight them. The ultimate slight has been made by the Crown Prince himself. We will no longer have the royal funding granted to other cities of our size. I asked for the aid to improve our roads and sewers so that we are healthier and safer, but he told me things were just fine here."

Varin began to pace as he spoke, trying to win over his reluctant people with words they would never see as lies. It would be better to do it the easy way, first. Force would come next.

"You know the condition of our once great city. We must tell the crown what happens when people are abandoned. I will not abandon you."

He stopped pacing to lift a large silver bowl and a small dagger from his throne.

"And you will not abandon me."

***

After Coulta's meeting with Second King Shelton a servant in a plain gray and red uniform led Coulta to a guest room, leaving him utterly confused as to where in the castle he actually was. The massive building was a maze of passageways and stairs, lined with plain wooden doors and bright tapestries. When he stepped into the room the servant had shown him to, Coulta stood frozen with surprise. He'd expected a common guest room to be plain and even dreary. This wasn't. The room was several times larger than where he had lived in Arren, and he immediately felt as if he didn't deserve such a place even for one night.

The room was well-lit with silver wall-torches and a fire burned in the large hearth, fighting the chilly spring breeze coming in through the open window. In the center of the room was a large bed dressed in dark blue sheets and matching blue curtains hung from a canopy above the bed, drawn back invitingly. Coulta wanted nothing more than to climb into that bed and sleep for a day after all the sleepless days he'd had, but he knew Crown Prince Wildas would be expecting him soon. And surely the dreams of all the innocent lives he'd taken would keep him from truly resting as they always did.

There were two storage chests along the far wall, made of a stained wood identical to the bedposts. Close to where he stood was a matching desk, which already held a few sheets of parchment, a glass bottle of ink, and two feather quills atop it. A chair sat at the desk, made of the same wood as the other furniture and with a seat cushion matching the bedding. Along another wall was a very large wardrobe and a small table with a washbasin, a pitcher of water, a bar of soap, and even a razor. A small towel hung on a rack beside it and a small mirror was on the wall above it.

There was a dressing screen in the far corner of the room, and Coulta found a steaming bath waiting for him on the other side. He'd never been happier to see a tub of water in his life and could hardly get his damp clothes off fast enough. Knowing that Wildas was waiting to speak to him, he forced himself to wash relatively quickly. Unsure if servants knocked on doors in Ryal or just walked in, he wrapped a towel around himself when he was done before walking to the wardrobe.

When he opened it, he was surprised to see more than just one or two outfits ready for him there. A sudden tightness came to his heart when he saw some of the more brightly colored pieces, and he settled for a black pair of trousers and a silver silk shirt. The fabric didn't feel natural when he put it on, but he wanted to keep to the same colors he had always worn. For Teeya. Despite his former life as a killer, she had made him accept himself in the dark colors, shades she always said made him handsome, not like a killer. He'd kept wearing the colors because it made her smile. There was no way he could make himself wear bright greens and blues when the only friend he'd ever had in his life was so far away. He didn't even know if she was still alive, now that he was gone. For the memory of her, he swore then to wear only the colors she had liked to see him wear back in Arren.