"Milord, a new horde of barbarians has been spotted on the main road. They say there are more of them than before."

  Tiberis stood before Severin, hands clasped behind his back. The hilt of his sword jutted from his side. Severin didn’t like weapons in the throne room, but this time he said nothing. Tiberis was stubborn, and he’d never part with his sword—not even in his sleep, Severin suspected.

  “What?” Severin stood, disbelief clouding his face. “We just wiped out several of their tribes, Tiberis. Are you certain?”

  “It seems there are survivors. Or perhaps these are others of their kind. It’s hard to say with them. There are all sorts of people wandering the southern sands. But my little birds tell me there aren’t as many as last time.”

  “The main road? And what about Ajax? Isn’t he supposed to guard the borders? He’s the ruler of Solis, isn’t he? That drunkard…”

  “Ajax has long been a ruler only on paper. Ascending to the throne so young has left him drunk on power. Forgive me for speaking ill of another king, but he’s lost touch with reality.”

  “You’re right about one thing—you shouldn’t speak ill of other kings, especially when you haven’t been there yourself.”

  “I don’t need to be there, milord.” Sometimes Tiberis used ‘milord’ instead of ‘king.’ It wasn’t incorrect, but Severin preferred the title of ‘king.’ “As I said earlier, I have my little birds. You know Ajax. He only cares about himself. He guards Solis’s borders, but he’s never concerned with what happens on the main road. The barbarians must have figured this out, and their first few days traveling through our lands passed with little incident. From what I’ve heard, they lost a few men early on after running into some local hunters. They killed them and left their heads on spikes along the road for all to see.”

  “Barbarians!” Severin spat.

  “Exactly.”

  Severin sat back down on his throne, trying to find a comfortable position, though that was hard on the throne’s jagged surface.

  “Frankly, Tiberis, the barbarians aren’t my biggest concern right now. We had our fun with them last time, even on their own turf. I’m more curious about where they’ve found the courage to return. And setting aside courage, where did they find more people? They’re an intriguing lot. Sometimes I wish I could live among them, to see how they survive, how they keep rising and rebuilding after every defeat. And they’ve had plenty.”

  “I’ve heard they’re searching for something. If they find it, they’ll continue north. They’ve been trying to return there for generations.”

  The bone. Of course, they were searching for the bone. Severin had suspected for a while now that this bone was no ordinary relic. Only days after being defeated, the barbarians were back, seeking the same object. It couldn’t be a coincidence. But why was it so important to them? It did nothing in his hands, at least. He’d almost forgotten about it amid the preparations for the Jars’ visit. It lay close to his throne. He reached down and touched it. Nothing. Still nothing.

  “What do you suggest, Tiberis? Should we intercept them or wait for them here? I’m always ready for a fight, but is now the time?”

  “If you don’t wish to get involved, we won’t. For now, they’re not our problem. If they get past Solis, they’ll have to deal with the women of Meihar. From what I hear, Selene tends to neglect them as well. She didn’t send much help last time. I often wonder why we’re the only ones who bother dealing with this?”

  Tiberis found the nearest chair and sat. He didn’t ask for permission.

  “Because someone has to do it. And because of the ancient prophecy…”

  “Forgive me for interrupting, but that prophecy is only believed here. And what if the barbarians do cross the Eagle Bridge and go north? Will something really happen? I know the story, but…”

  Severin told it anyway:

  “My grandfather used to tell a story, that once, long before even he was born, and before his ancestors came to these lands and the blood of wolves flowed through their veins, the southern barbarians marched north. They brought gifts and sought the throne. When they arrived, they chose one among them to enter. His name was Val. He was nobody to the barbarians, just a boy who was the first to volunteer to enter the northern throne room. They let him…”

  “I know the story, King.”

  “Just because you’re Tiberis, my warlord, doesn’t give you the right to interrupt me.”

  “Apologies, but we have more pressing matters. Stories are written by old men and useless men for children. Decisions should be made wisely, not according to ancient tales.”

  Severin rested his fist against his mouth and gazed out the window. From his high throne, adorned with wolf teeth, he could see the sea. The same sea Borin would soon be sailing on.

  “I don’t want a war at my gates, Tiberis. I want someone to stop them before they reach the north. My son is soon to be married; we can’t have battles raging outside the kingdom’s walls.”

  “I’ll station a small army at our western gates, just in case. I also have men in the south who report everything to me, so you need only concern yourself with your son’s wedding. Leave the rest to me.”

  Severin fell silent, a sign for Tiberis to leave, which he understood. But the voice of Uther stopped him as he entered the room.

  “Ah, milord. What a fine morning!” Uther Jar, the tall father of Bromir’s future bride, called out cheerfully. “How are you today?”

  “There’s no need for formalities, Uther. We’ll soon be family. You may call me by my name.”

  “Let’s wait until it happens. I teach all my subjects and my sons to ensure their actions are quicker than their words. If they say something, they should follow through before moving on to the next thing. I believe that’s how it should be.”

  “That’s wise, Uther. But there’s nothing that can spoil this marriage.”

  “I sincerely hope you’re right. I came to tell you that we’re leaving today.” Uther noticed Tiberis and bowed to him as well. “We’ll take Loren with us. Allow us to have one last look at her as our daughter before we hand her over to you for eternity. Or until death do them part.” Uther smiled as he found a seat at the table, sitting without asking permission. It wasn’t needed, but sometimes Severin enjoyed when people asked for it—it stroked his ego.

  “That’s for the best,” Severin agreed. “Let everything proceed according to tradition—yours and ours. When you return next, the kingdom will be filled with guests from all the western lands. Then we can unite our families before the eyes of all the kings and, I hope, before the gods.”

  Even now, as he thought about it, Severin imagined what it would be like here in just a few days. They hadn’t organized anything yet, nor had they sent the invitations. And the treasury… he wasn’t even sure of its state. He needed Yorik. He hadn’t seen him in two days. He hoped Yorik would handle all the unnecessary details. They weren’t Severin’s concern.

  “We’ll depart for the Middle Sea today, milord. We plan to travel solely through your lands,” Uther continued. “I hope you’ll send men to escort us to the east coast. We’ll catch a ship there. We don’t need anyone for the ship; we can manage that ourselves.”

  “The east is all cliffs, and where the land slopes, there are no harbors. You must be mistaken.”

  “No harbors there? That’s a grave oversight. After the wedding, let’s build one. I’ll provide the funds.”

  “Let’s think about that later. I don’t like bold dreams. I prefer action.”

  “Your son Borin inspired me. This morning I was with him on Iris—his ship. I had forgotten what freedom sounded like and how the waves crash against the wooden hull. And the scent… it’s wonderful. I want to experience that again. My wife doesn’t mind. Neither do my sons. I’ll build you a harbor, and when I come to visit Loren, I’ll arrive on my finest ship.”

  “You have your head in the clouds, Uther. I’ll give you land by the sea without the wedding even happening. Do with it as you please.”

  “How generous. I’ll name a ship after you,” Uther joked, smiling. “But it seems we’ll change our plans and head to Shilan.”

  “They won’t let you into Shilan. Better cross into Chernoval and catch a ship from their harbor. It’s small, but it will get you where you need to go. I’ll send some of my warriors to escort you there.”

  “Milord?” Tiberis, who had been listening the whole time, finally spoke up. “Don’t forget about the barbarians. We need to send men there as well. I respect Sir Uther’s wishes. It’s good that the lord of the Sunlit Rocks wants to relive his youth, but we must also take care of the kingdom’s borders. We can’t let the barbarians approach and waste our men.”

  “What barbarians?” Uther straightened up, his interest piqued.

  Tiberis looked silently at Severin, who returned his gaze.

  “Hordes of barbarians moving north. Nothing we haven’t dealt with before, Uther. We were just discussing with Tiberis that we’ll need men there as well.”

  “Oh,” Uther lowered his gaze. “I see. But I don’t need anyone. We have enough men. We had no trouble coming here. And these are your lands, milord. I don’t believe anyone will trouble us. Is there something we should be concerned about?”

  Severin leaned back, pressing against his throne. He hated the wolf teeth that adorned it, but sometimes the pain they caused helped him think, keeping him on edge.

  “Tiberis?”

  His commander looked up at him.

  “You will personally escort Sir Uther and his family.”

  “Me? What about the barbarians? And Tristan? I have more important matters to attend to. With all due respect, of course.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “I decide what matters are important. Gather your best men and ensure Sir Uther has a safe journey. Tristan will train with me. And with the barbarians.”

  “You’ll take him with you?”

  “Yes. Why not? A bit of real combat won’t hurt him.”

  Severin slipped his hand into the furs draped over his throne and felt the bone he had taken from the barbarians. Its touch calmed him. He saw the disapproval in Tiberis’s eyes. He didn’t want to send him on a pointless task that would waste his time, but he had no choice. Until the wedding, Uther had to feel well cared for. He couldn’t afford to embarrass himself, not even in front of Uther. His father had taught him to be respectful, but Severin had learned on his own not to extend that courtesy to everyone, only when necessary.

  “Uther, how does that sound?”

  “It’s not needed, milord. But I know that once you’ve made up your mind, there’s no convincing you otherwise. I’m more concerned that you can’t let us pass through your kingdom without an escort. There are no other lands on our way to the western harbors. We have enough men to handle any small villages. I appreciate Sir Tiberis’s assistance, but I think he’d be more useful here. And these barbarians… tell me more about them.”

  “Barbarians, Uther. Surely you’ve read or heard about them. They live in the southern lands, south of Solis, in the barren wastes where there’s nothing but sand and heat, where greenery is scarce and water is deep underground.”

  “I’ve read the pact. It states that the barbarians are abominations, unnecessary in our lands, and must be kept out.”

  “Exactly, Sir Uther. That’s why it’s so important that I go and stop them. And I feel an increasing need to do just that.”

  Severin felt a strange satisfaction when he killed barbarians. And when he spoke of them, he felt as if he ascended a few rungs on the ladder of great heroes. Tiberis, who loved fighting even more than Severin, found the barbarians dull. They weren’t the best fighters, but their heart for battle was unmatched.

  Soon, Borin would be leaving. Severin dreamed of marrying him off quickly and leaving the kingdom to his sons while he was still young. Then he could watch his grandchildren grow and wait for the next Great Battle, the one that would seat him on the great Shilan throne. And if the gods were with him, he might see another, from the highest throne.

  Only two years remained, and if Tristan could secure him the highest seat in the Western Kingdoms, Severin would shower him with gold. Bromir would rule Volkar, and Borin would sail the seas. Perhaps he’d land somewhere and establish new lands to add to Volkar. No other kingdom had lands in two different places. That could elevate Volkar even higher. The two brothers—Bromir and Borin—would be the first with those names to lead Volkar to new heights. And the next warrior after Tristan would win the Shilan throne for one of them. And the tradition would continue. Maybe even with one of their grandchildren.

  Being a king was a great responsibility—brave, bold… but also tedious. Only Yorik knew what Severin wanted and what he dreamed of. But Yorik wasn’t his friend; Yorik served him. Served him well, and Severin could trust him. But like the rest of the servants, Yorik expected some payment or feared for his life. That was normal.

  “Sir, I’ll be leaving you now.” Uther stood and bowed. “We have a few more preparations before we depart. I hope you’ll join us for the send-off.”

  “I also have matters to attend to with the soldiers, milord.” Tiberis stood as well. “I’ll do as you’ve asked, but I urge you to reconsider. Our lands aren’t exactly hostile; in fact, they’re quite the opposite. I believe Sir Uther can make the journey to the eastern coast on his own.”

  “Don’t worry, Tiberis,” Uther was still smiling, as if nothing could dampen his spirits. “I’m not seeking outside help. We arrived on our own, and we’ll leave the same way.”

  “Father!”

  Bromir entered the throne room with a confident stride. The doors shook behind him as he entered. Bromir stopped at the entrance, bowed first to Uther, then to Tiberis, and finally approached his father. Garvin, Bromir’s man, followed close behind. Just seeing Garvin stirred anger in Severin. That man was always clinging to his son. Money. That’s all he wanted. Severin knew it.

  “Well, we’ll leave you, milord,” Uther said, but Tiberis exited with him.

  “Where’s Yorik?” Bromir’s first question caught Severin off guard. He hadn’t seen Yorik for days.

  “He’ll be here soon.” Severin lied.

  “We can start without him.”

  Bromir and Garvin took their seats. Severin was tired of these discussions. If he could, he’d leave right now, board Borin’s ship, and disappear with him. Sometimes he envied his son for that. Volkar was flourishing. Traders from all lands passed through the main road, eager to reach his kingdom. Here, the peasants paid the best, and the money flowed, with a large portion of the taxes and duties filling the royal treasury. His father had built it all. Severin was proud to have continued it. Many in his place would have failed. And all this, just to sit in his throne room and talk to different people all day, even his own son. Sometimes he just wanted to dress simply and walk among the common folk. The large, gloomy hall was his place of solitude but also his prison.

  “Is it true about the barbarians?”

  Apparently, there were no secrets in this kingdom.

  “It’s true.” What else could he say?

  “Garvin and I have a plan.”

  “I’m not interested in your plans. If you’ve come, listen to what’s going to happen. And if you disagree, you can try to add your input.”

  Bromir glanced at Garvin. He relied on him for everything. That irritated Severin even more.

  Severin sat beside them. He was exhausted from it all. With a single sweep of his hand, he cleared the table. He pulled out a map of the Western Kingdoms and spread it out. The map was enormous, covering almost the entire table. In front of Severin lay the Middle Sea, stretching northward to the Eagle Bridge. To the west, where Bromir sat, were the western kingdoms, including Volkar.

  Severin placed his finger on the two wolves depicted on the outskirts of Volkar and slid it down to the southernmost point of the Western Lands—where Solis was located.

  “Ajax,” Bromir guessed.

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll leave soon. You, me, and a small portion of our army.”

  “Me?” Bromir seemed surprised. “But why?”

  “You’re a grown man now, Bromir. In two years, you might be on the throne. You should have at least one battle under your belt.”

  “What if I get hurt?” Bromir looked frightened.

  “If a barbarian hurts you, you’re not worthy.” Severin didn’t mean it, but he was tired of Bromir’s foolish questions. “Even our army alone can handle it. We’ll just be there to have some fun before the wedding. And to see some real blood.”

  “I don’t want to undermine your plan, milord. I even think it’s a good one,” Garvin spoke. Severin clenched his fists. “But isn’t the main road supposed to ensure free passage between the kingdoms? Why can’t it be used because of some barbarians? It seems pitiful, and it makes the Pact, signed so many years ago, look weak. Why were the barbarians even allowed through?”

  Garvin was right. Severin looked at the map before him. The main road started in the deserts, then passed along the western borders of Solis and Meihar before entering Volkar. Why had Solis allowed the barbarians through? And what if Meihar did the same? They’d end up at Volkar’s gates. The kings hadn’t met in a long time. Perhaps it was time to call a meeting. Maybe it could happen at the wedding. It would be a good occasion.

  “Bromir,” Severin turned to his son, though he also looked at Garvin. “Don’t worry about the barbarians. We’ve already repelled them once. Tiberis said there aren’t as many this time. Besides, they’re looking for me. If they come, I’ll meet them as I should. Although my hands are itching, and I’m considering going myself. I’m not that old yet.”

  “Why do you think they’re looking for you?”

  “Because I know.”

  “Another war?” Bromir clenched his fists and glanced at Garvin. “Who needs that?”

  “‘War’ is a strong word. A skirmish with nomadic people from the sands who have no kingdoms is not a war. It will be just another lesson for them about where they belong and what their place is. That’s all.”

  “Isn’t the Pact you all revere about peace? No war and fighting, aimed only at the Great Battle.”

  “Revere? Are you, Sir Garvin, something different? Are you against the treaty?”

  Garvin glanced briefly at Bromir, then lowered his eyes to the map before him, straightened his neck, and met Severin’s gaze.

  “A slip of the tongue, lord. Of course, the treaty is the most important document, and we must adhere to it. But aren’t these matters concerning the barbarians ancient history? Let them pass. They’re just heading north and don’t fight unless provoked. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

  “‘That’s what you’ve heard?’ How many times have you spoken with one of them, Garvin?”

  Garvin smiled but didn’t answer.

  “Trust me, I have something the barbarians want. And this time, we’ll have a problem with them.”

  “You have something they want?” Bromir looked up at him. “What is it?”

  “I can’t tell you, Bromir. But we can’t rely on the hope that they won’t attack us. The barbarians haven’t signed a treaty with anyone. Nor does the Pact specify how we should deal with them. It only dictates how we treat those outside the signatories. And it’s clear—‘The sword for the dissenters, clemency for the repentant.’ And those who are now approaching haven’t repented.”

  “We haven’t asked them,” Bromir interjected.

  “I won’t negotiate with barbarian tribes. My only concern is how they got past the southern border of the kingdoms. The main road begins there. Ajax missed something.”

  “Or he was paid off.”

  “Impossible,” Severin pressed his fingers against the table.

  “Ajax is just a drunkard. That’s the word.”

  “I won’t allow you to speak ill of other kings, Bromir.” Without waiting for a reply, he continued, “As we head south, we’ll personally invite the Queen of Meihar and Ajax to your wedding.”

  “And to the north…”

  “Leave the north to me,” Bromir interrupted. “That’s what I wanted to discuss as well.”

  “To you?”

  “Yes. Garvin and I will handle the northern realms—Chernoval and Ishold.”

  “And Shilan?”

  “Shilan won’t let any of my men in. We’ll need to send someone from the guards there. Or you personally, Father.”

  “Tiberis will go while escorting Sir Uther.” That seemed like a good idea. Tiberis wouldn’t like it, but Severin didn’t want to leave everything to Bromir. Not because of him, but because of Garvin. He didn’t trust him.

  Yorik’s entrance interrupted them. It was the best thing that could have happened. Severin didn’t want to hear Garvin’s objections.

  “You’re late,” Bromir taunted, flashing a mocking smile at Yorik.

  Yorik walked quickly, almost running toward Severin.

  “Milord, we have a problem.”

  Bromir’s smile faded, and he nearly stood. Garvin remained expressionless.

  “Speak, Yorik.”

  Yorik glanced at the two men at the table.

  “I trust them. Speak.”

  “Barbarians, sir. They’ve bypassed Solis’s border and are now advancing into Meihar’s territory.”

  “Where’s Tiberis?”

  “He sent me to inform you. He said you’d assigned him to Sir Uther, and the barbarians aren’t his responsibility.”

  Severin’s eyes began to ache. He wanted everyone to leave.

  “Garvin?” Severin turned to his son’s man. “Can you handle what we discussed about the north?”

  He could feel Yorik’s gaze on him. He knew he was betraying him. But he couldn’t manage everything.

  “Of course, milord. I have the right people.”

  “Yorik,” Severin addressed his most trusted man, “I’m heading south with Bromir for a few days. I assume that’s how long it will take. I don’t plan to delay any further with the barbarians. Tiberis will accompany Sir Uther to the eastern border of Volkar. I leave the kingdom in your hands, and Garvin’s.” Severin removed the iron lion from his lapel and placed it on the table. “Everything you need is in this hall. Anyone who disobeys you should be thrown into the dungeons until I return. I’ll decide their fate.”

  Yorik and Garvin exchanged a glance. Their faces were unreadable. Bromir smiled in satisfaction.

  Severin tightened his belt and walked heavily to the door of the hall. The guards bowed and closed the door behind him. He was relieved to have escaped, at least for a few days. He didn’t want to go back in there. He wanted to spill some blood.