A Crow's End (Slow Updates)

⚔️Chapter Two ⚔️

Andragoras was less than happy.

After ensuring the innkeeper out of the room, he blew up at the four guards who'd come in from the cold. In the silence between speeches he paced, arms crossed with one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

Robin stood with his back to a wall, straight as he could be. Slung over his shoulder was the bag the messenger held, along with as many letters he and Andragoras found. Many were unreadable. Some had pages ripped and sentences mangled beyond recognition, others were so coated with the man's blood the words were giant blobs against the paper.

Robin's hands still stung from the outdoors. Before coming in, they'd taken what was left of the Kallan and buried him just outside the town. There was no marker besides an oak tree. By that point, the wind was white with snow and covered the hole well enough for them that they had no need of piling everything over the man. Andragoras wanted to do most of it himself, to which Robin promptly refused. Royal blood or not, he could bury an innocent man.

The rest of the guards never knew what happened until their captain stormed in and made it very clear.

With a sigh, Andragoras stopped pacing. His hand went to the bridge of his nose, and stopped, blocked, by the edge of his helmet.

"Let me get this straight. None of you saw anyone when you arrived."

The four shook their heads.

"You didn't hear anything."

Still silent.

Andragoras whirled to face Robin. On reflex, he straightened, braced himself for the folly of words he was about to receive.

"You were with me. We got here a few moments later." Andragoras had not lost the venom in his voice. "You hear and saw nothing as well."

"No sir. Nothing."

"And he was dead for how long, you estimate?"

The bag with the letters felt like it carried bricks. "Everything was fresh. No more than a day." He paused. "I would say it was more recent than that, but the snow may have affected the blood."

He captain nodded, eyes on fire and face unreadable. He started his pacing again, this time closer to the stairs that led away from the interrogation. "Do all five of you understand what this means?"

Robin's throat tightened. Kallas sent that messenger to speak with King Eudes. There were too many... incidents that were recent. Too many times that a letter was misunderstood or a battle was blamed on the wrong side. Krativ lit the spark years before, and from there it'd been a slowly losing battle to calm both sides.

He didn't answer Andragoras' question. It didn't seem to need it. Still, he let himself think of what his mother would do. They'd have to tell her about the death, that was certain. As far as he knew, she'd been largely the reason Kallas had yet to sent warnings. It was the people that panicked.

And war... any possibility of that was too delicate. Fights happened, yes. Fights were easily solved. The queen ordered, the queen ruled, and the queen's word was done. The council, as particular as they were, even seems to approve of her decisions. But he knew from hearing her speak on numerous occasions, she held no interest in battles. All missions, all loss of life-- it went straight to and from Eudes.

As much as the council loved Queen Celandine, they listened to the king far more.

After a moment of silence, Robin let himself speak, ready to hear an uproar from Andragoras.

"Captain, the queen should be able to explain to Kallas, correct?"

Andragoras gave him a slow nod. "If that was the only issue at hand, we'd be blessed."