I was going to kill him.

  "You break my things!" he spat, scrambling backward on one hand, his handsome face twisted into an ugly mask of fear and fury.

  I’ll break more than just your things. I mean to break him, like he broke those girls in the camp. I was already on him. I didn’t even bother to retrieve his weapons. I let Nieven handle that. My fury drove me as I kicked at him. The armored boots were effective weapons, and I could hear bones crunching. Instead of fighting, Belodrath started trying to make a deal.

  I stood there poised over him, and ready to take his head. “No, wait!" he gasped, spitting blood. "I'll tell you where we keep all of the gold! I’ll give you a percentage! I'll tell you who ordered all this. It wasn't me! We can be partners! We can both be rich! Just think…"

  I thought he was reaching for the parchment of his crimes. He was grasping, not for the paper, but for the tiny, leather-bound pouch resting beside it. With a final, desperate surge of fey speed, he snatched the pouch and flung a handful of powdered rowan berries into my face.

  It wasn't a lethal dose, but the effect was immediate and agonizing. A scream tore from my throat as the microscopic particles burned my eyes and skin like fire. My stance buckled, my sword wobbling and dropping its killing trajectory. It was the opening Belodrath needed. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring what had to be searing pain from his injuries, and dove for the nearest weapon. He ignored the forgotten rapier and reached instead for the broken shard of the oil lamp that had plunged the alley into darkness.

  He lunged toward me, where I was blinded and screaming in pain, with that jagged glass shard aimed for my throat.

  Even so, I’ve already spent too long fighting things that spew poison and acid. We train for this. We all know what to do. It’s a full-power pirouette that will keep anything from getting close enough to harm us. The movement was too fast, the sword's arc too broad. Belodrath, mid-lunge, ran directly onto the heavy, trailing edge of the great sword. It struck him at the hip, the sheer force of the blow shearing through his leather armor, through muscle and bone. The impact lifted him clean off the ground.

  The glass shard flew from his hand and shattered against the tavern door. He landed hard in a sickening heap several feet away, silence following the sickening crack of his landing. I staggered over, my face still on fire, and braced myself. I lifted my sword and brought it down swiftly, taking his head cleanly. "My oath is my blood,"

  I grated out. My voice was trembling, not from effort but from intensity. “Now it’s yours and anyone else’s who was involved in that mess.”

  His head rolled away, and most of the spectators melted back into the tavern. Nieven picked me up and carried me to the well, where he dumped buckets of water over me until all the rowan dust was washed away. One of the spectators from the tavern approached us, while Nieven tended to me. She looked me over and eyed Nieven warily. Nieven was always been huge and intimidating. He’s got tons of power, but he’s not fast. Finally, she spoke. “Did Belodrath really do all those things you said?”

  I nodded. “That list was just the things we could prove. The things we caught him at, red-handed. There’s more, lots more, but we didn’t have proof.”

  She stared at the ground for a long moment before looking at me. “I’m Cithrel. I can’t believe that Belodrath was selling Fey to those things.”

  Nieven snorted. “I can’t believe that anyone would do it, yet I’ve seen it happening. We all have.”

  Cithrel looked puzzled, so I explained. “We’re in the same war band. A couple of our friends donated some leave so that Nieven and I could come here to take care of this.”

  Cithrel muttered some curses before looking at me again. “Lots of the Lawless come here. It’s one of our spots to hang out with our own kind. Plenty of Belodrath’s cronies come here. They like to talk and brag. I know I’ve heard them boasting about how rich they’re getting. If I hear anything else, how can I reach you?”

  “That’s easy enough,”Nieven replied, “Just let any of the local war bands know that you have a message for Mair?a Effíri?. They’ll make sure she gets it.”

  Cithrel nodded. “I don’t care what they get up to most of the time, but we’re already under threat from those things. To sell our own people to them… It’s unthinkable. It’s too much even for me. If I can help you, I will. Do you want to come inside?”

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Nieven glanced at me, and I shook my head. “It’s probably not wise for us to linger. We’ve most likely been here too long as it is.”

  Cithrel smiled and patted my shoulder, “You’re probably right. Wait here for a moment before you go.”

  She disappeared inside and came out with two wrapped parcels and handed them to us. “It’s not much, just bread, jerky, and cheese, but it's enough to help you get back to your war band. I know that a lot of the Lawless aren’t nice, but not all of us would stoop to that. I’ll ask around and see if some of the others might be willing to help you locate the rest of them.”

  “Why help us?” Nieven asked.

  Cithrel sighed. “They’ll run out of Lawful Fey eventually. What do you think those things are going to eat next? I consider it self-preservation.”

  Nieven laughed, and Cithrel went back into the tavern. That’s how I ended up with our first informant, made some friends among the Lawless, and ultimately located those sons of banshees so I could end the war. That’s why Ellisar revoking my honor name is such a slight to every last veteran and every single survivor. I wasn’t just randomly dueling Lawless Fey, or merely hoping that I had the right ones. I know myself well enough to know that killing an innocent would have gutted me.

  We dug, we investigated, we searched, we watched, or had those we trusted to do the watching. It was often other war bands. We made sure that we had the right ones. If anything, I was overly cautious about my targets, but it was still enough to scare the rest away from the scheme. I never did find out who was behind it, but it was clear that it was somewhere in Ellisar’s court. If it hadn’t been, we would have gotten help from the official channels instead of resorting to me dueling them one at a time.

  I eventually found Lantecari, my sword. I only know its name because it's written on the blade. With a better weapon, I was able to increase the pace at which I was dueling them. All my leave was spent dueling. Sometimes, others would donate leave so that I could duel them. They’d take their leave from their war band and fill in for me so that I could take off. Many of us had family who ended up in those pens, as food for those things. If they knew who’d been responsible, they’d see to it that I was able to duel them.

  I tried to see Ellisar at least a dozen times before they finally put me out with the trash and told me never to come back to his palace again. I was told it was on his orders. That’s why the summons to appear was so surprising. If it hadn’t led to me meeting Kenric, I’d regret going that day. I’d have made Ellisar send someone to order me to appear and given the excuse that I was instructed never to return to his palace. As it is, it was a stroke of luck that I didn’t ignore the summons. If I hadn’t been walking back from court that day, I would never have met Kenric. I’d have been asleep at home after keeping watch all night.

  We slept during the day because those things tended to attack at night. It’s a habit that Kenric’s slowly broken me of. While walking home from court, he spotted me. It’s fair to say that we spotted each other. I took my time walking home because I was in a mood after dealing with Ellisar screaming at me in front of the entire Fey court. Imagine my surprise when I arrive home to find the male I’d been ogling and who’d been ogling me speaking to my parents about an offer for me.

  Now I’m here in Centis, leagues of ocean separating me from Ellisar, and still dealing with his maneuvering and machinations. The irony of this is not lost on me, but it’s still not a situation I appreciate. Ellisar sent me here, looking like a beggar and an outcast, instead of what I truly am, which is the second most powerful Fey in his court. Despite that, I managed to arrive in Centis as befits a powerful Fey. I have my honor guard from Nintoku, which I hired, on the road between the port city of Varpua and the capital of Dobile.

  I had my duennas and their partners, who supposedly fled the primitive and barbaric kingdom of Centis. In reality, they were local actresses that I hired and a few of Kenric’s men that I’d glamoured to appear Fey. I also took the liberty of applying some glamour to the carriages, the horses, and even the drivers and footmen when we arrived. I arrived looking like a Fey princess and had dressed Kenric as a Fey prince. It was so well done that Oskar didn’t even recognize Kenric.

  The mileage from that bit of trickery hasn’t run out yet. We’ve had our rooms renovated, gone shopping, and now we’re having a state wedding. Oskar has been forced to foot the bill for it all because he shoved us into what my ladies call the ice cave. Our pre-renovation rooms were disgustingly filthy and despicably cold because the chimney wasn’t working correctly. Combine all that with the sad state of sanitation in Centis, and any Fey would have been ready to run screaming, even they had accompanied me from Imelenora.

  In short, it was miserable and quite reasonable for my duennas to flee back to Ikedena and to Ellisar’s court. Arthion was grumbling about the less-than-attractive men and the less-than-stellar food. In her words, my duennas had no reason at all to remain in Centis. The sad part is that this all something that Oskar and Arvo, the steward, cooked up. The only reason that we were put in these rooms is so that Oskar can hover around in whatever chamber is behind the walls and spy on us.

  Arvo told Jellema that Oskar has us put here because he doesn’t trust me, and I need to be watched. Hah! If he knew what plans I have for him, if he tries anything, he’d leave me be. If I were trying to manipulate him, I’d try to cozy up to him so that I could touch him. If I can touch him, I can do all sorts of things like place a compulsion on him, glamour him, alter his memories, or basically turn Oskar into my own personal puppet. I want nothing to do with Oskar. I’ve heard quite enough about King Oskar.

  What do you about Oskar in her place? Let me know in the comments...