A Flight of Ravens by John Conroe (thriller books to read TXT) 📗

allies, another holdover from the days of rampant disease and illness.  He was showing me the greatest respect—but I wasn’t fooled.  He bid me follow him as he and his daughter took their leave of court, a procession of aides and administrators following behind.

I’ve known the king almost my entire life.  As the only child who could consistently interact with Brona and survive, I’d had his attention from an early age.  King Helat Warcan was every inch a modern king: intelligent, decisive, extremely well educated, a skilled swordsman, a brilliant negotiator, as well as being arrogant, condescending, egotistical, and never willing to admit a mistake.

I recognized his actions for what they were: a down payment on my loyalty, as well as a very public repositioning of my role in the kingdom.

Any human, given absolute power, will come to feel entitled to that power.  That’s my opinion, but it’s based on very close observation of some very powerful people.  King Helat felt that by showering me with so many public displays of his supposed respect for me, it would cement me to him.  I’ve seen him do it with a steady stream of officers and officials throughout my lifetime.  And if I had somehow, on my own, missed what he was doing, Brona had taken the time to enlighten me.  After all, he shared many of his philosophies of leadership with his heir.  She just didn’t take them all to heart.

In many cases, it worked.  Lauding praise on subordinates sure seemed to give them a boost and create admirers, but the other side of the coin was never far away.  Those same individuals could fall from grace with one simple mistake and never regain it.  They would be quickly shuffled out of the castle, their fortunes ruined in an instant.  It left some very bitter people in the trail of the king’s path.

He had mostly avoided such displays with me, I think because on some level he recognized that I had already given my loyalty to the crown princess.  In the early years, he’d had no problem with that.  But when the RRS successfully disrupted the Sylvanian hordes using guerilla tactics under my command, things changed.  Brona was nothing if not truthful with me, and she’d told me at the time that he’d been extremely reluctant to award me the Kingdom Cross.  I had gained too much attention.  But pressure from the public, both noble and common man alike, had forced his hand.  From that point forward, King Helat has viewed me differently.  I had even wondered aloud to Brona if he was looking at me as a replacement for his rook, the shadowy assassin who was rumored to have fixed many of the king’s problems over the years.  He, too, was supposedly of ex-RRS stock.

So now Helat was attempting to win me with the payment of his public praise.  And doing so in his daily court was actually more effective than at a High Family gala.  The morning court was rarely attended by nobility; rather, it was more merchants, both domestic and foreign, tradesmen, common folk, and lower kingdom officials.  Such an audience would spread word far and wide with a speed that a prized racehorse would envy. This, I suspected, was also part of his plan.  I was being positioned deliberately for some reason I hadn’t yet sussed out.

The royal party entered the administrative section of the castle where normally the king, Brona, the seneschal, and many other functionaries would head to their respective offices, desks, or other duties.  This time, the king turned and motioned me to follow him and Brona into his own office.  Everyone else was left outside.  But someone was already waiting inside the inner sanctum—Neil Slinch.

Chapter 19

“You had a successful night,” the king said as soon as he was seated behind his massive desk.

“It would seem so, Sire,” I replied.  “More investigation will be needed to both verify the lead and then identify which of the families has the traitor.”

“Yes, of course,” he agreed, nodding sagely.  His gaze sharpened and he leaned forward.  “Especially as one of those families is yours.”

I shrugged but didn’t take my eyes off him.  “DelaCrotia or Grantell; it could easily be either one.”

“I know your personal situation has been strained, Savid, but you are awfully glib about the prospects of a traitor in your own House.”

“I don’t think it has been my house for a very long time, Sire,” I said, trying to read his intent.  “We both know that my family is at least as ambitious as any of the High Families.”

“Does not the chance that it could be your dear mother or sister worry you?” he asked, eyebrows arching.

“No, I discount that completely.  My mother abhors the Paul and everything he stands for, as does my sister who, by the way, does not live in that house anymore but with her husband’s family.”

He studied me critically, then glanced at his daughter and his head of spies.

“I have another mission for you,” he said.

“Sire, I haven’t completed either of my current ones,” I protested.

“Despite your words, the possibility of conflict of interest is very real.  Neil will take over the hunt for the traitor,” King Helat said, his hawklike gaze watching me carefully.

Only Brona’s frown kept me from speaking out. She never gave me such a harsh look when she was in crown princess mode in the company of the king, rather just maintaining a cool look of indifference—at least when others could see.  Now she was giving me a very serious warning. At least, that’s how I took it.  King Helat did not suffer threats to his rule.  A rebellious war hero turned spy could be easily construed as a very real threat. Maybe a target for the rook, rather than a replacement?

“And Ash’s interrogation?” I asked, keeping my tone level and calm.

“Your own people can continue that without you,” the king said, his own tone just as level.

“As you say, Sire,” I agreed.  “What