I turned to her, stepping away from Chevelle, and couldn’t decide whether to be angry or relieved at the interruption.
She looked a bit concerned for her safety. “The others.” She pointed vaguely in the direction of Anvil’s study.
Chevelle walked past me and from the room without another word, but Ruby jumped aside as he neared the door. I raised a brow.
She leaned out the door to peer after him, only looking back to me when he’d cleared the corridor.
I smirked before joining her to go.
“What?” she answered. “I thought he was going to pluck my ears off.”
We entered the study and Ruby took her place among the others, purposefully walking wide of Chevelle.
I really should have discussed this with him first.
“Call to order another gathering,” I said. “No pomp, this will be a congress.” I glanced at Anvil. “Bring in the clan leaders singly. And anyone else of note.” My eyes traveled down the circle. “Steed, you and Grey flank Ruby all evening. Rhys and Rider, post by the south entrance. All others will be sealed.” I didn’t look at Chevelle or Anvil when I directed them. “Anvil at my left. Chevelle at the opposite end of the long table, I want you in my line of sight at all times.” This brought a few peculiar stares, but I kept on. “Tomorrow.”
They had their orders and they knew it was serious. Now came the part I’d been dreading. Chevelle and Anvil would understand. If not my choice, then at least my reasoning. It was why Asher had wanted me. It had been a constant battle to stay on the throne. He had needed a powerful second to rule without challenge.
I would have to do the same. It was my only option.
The others deserved to know my motivations, I would have to make them understand. I opened my mouth to speak, but they all froze. They’d heard something I hadn’t... or maybe something I’d ignored. The pat of boots against stone grew louder.
My guard were on their feet. Grey was at the door first. At the sight of him, the watchman yelled, “Rogues, south gate.”
I gritted my teeth and ran. I wasn’t as fast as the others, but I’d been running these corridors since I was a child.
We burst from the castle as one, and the seven formed up around me as if they’d been doing it for years. The yard was bloody, the rogues had worked fast. There were twenty of them, a ragtag band of thugs with greased hair and spiked armor. I scanned the faces and found Vandrell, son of Stryder.
He was huge, fists as large as my head, and he was ugly. His jaw misshapen and scarred from fighting, his cheeks stained with animal blood. War paint. They used it when raiding the villages. His hair was tied back, too high on his head, and the front of it stood in pointy tufts.
He was staring at Ruby.
“Reform,” I yelled, and they followed without question. They had seen.
Now Steed and Grey stood before Ruby, Rhys and Rider at her sides. Anvil and Chevelle had stayed in position, but I stepped through them to the front of the line.
The rogues came to rest, waiting for my reaction. They were enjoying their little outing, they wanted to drag it out, revel in their triumph. They were fools. I let my eyes roam the line, falling on each of them. Their leather was worn black, their armor dented from battle. A few wore mail. All carried hammers.
“You raid my castle as if it were a village,” I accused.
“You will fall, halfbreed,” Vandrell answered. “And the fey whore will decorate my pike.” With that, he raised the weapon in the air, hammer still at the ready in the other hand.
“Save the pike,” I said levelly to the seven behind me.
Vandrell roared and the twenty rushed forward, joining in the battle cry.
I didn’t take time to wonder how many of our people they had killed, to worry whose blood covered their hammers or splattered the yard, it didn’t matter now. There was only one way, only one justice. I raised my hand and Vandrell was silenced first. Power shot from my palm and shattered his heart. Fire erupted beside him, lightning burst from behind. There was a flash as two more collapsed, all before I’d focused a second attack. A crunch of bone, the thick wetness exploding flesh.
Twenty men, twenty warriors fell on the stone without so much as a weapon being raised by my guard.
I walked forward, among the bodies of the fallen, and reached down for the pike. When I turned, my guard remained motionless in their formation. I moved to Ruby, and placed the pike in her hand.
“Tomorrow,” I said, looking over my shoulder to Anvil. “Congress.”