Brian McClellan - Servant of the Crown

“Your majesty,” Tamas said, dropping to one knee.

“Stand up,” Manhouch said.

“Yes, my lord.”

Manhouch strode toward Tamas and did a quick circle. Tamas stood stiffly during the brief inspection. The king finished his circuit to stand in front of Tamas, studying his face for several moments before he returned to the opposite side of the billiards table.

“Captain Tamas,” he said. He shuffled through a number of documents spread out across the billiards table. “On your first campaign at the age of sixteen, you were commended for valor in the field on seven separate occasions, suffering eleven wounds in that campaign alone. On the next campaign, as a sergeant, you single-handedly ended the siege of Herone. As a lieutenant in charge of just thirty marksmen on special assignment you captured the town of Lukanjev and held it against two companies of Gurlish cavalry.”

“There are at least thirty letters here from infantrymen and non-commissioned officers whose lives you saved at one point or another. Commendation, commendation. Thirteen recommendations for rank advancement. Thirteen!” The Iron King flipped absently through the rest of the papers before finally throwing them down in apparent disgust. “Tell me, Captain, why are you not a general?”

Tamas guessed it was a rhetorical question, but answered it anyway. “Because I’m a commoner, sir.”

“That’s right. You’re a commoner. And my noble cousins would rather hang themselves with their own belts than take orders from someone of lesser birth.”

“As you say, my lord.”

“Nothing to be had for that at the moment, though,” Manhouch said, stepping away from the table. “Last night, you and the duchess-heir of Leora killed eight members of the cabal guard and wounded a member of the Adran royal cabal.”

How the pit did he know about Erika , Tamas wondered. He felt a surge of panic. If the king knew, the cabal might know, and Erika was surely in danger. “My lord, the duchess-heir …”

Manhouch cut him off. “I don’t really give a damn about the Leora girl. Privileged Dienne is not aware of her identity, and I’m not about to admit that I spy on my own cabal just to impart such a trivial bit of information. Now then,” he continued, “you did not have my attention before because you were a nothing more than a diversion. Something to annoy the cabal. But last night one of my spies witnessed your altercation with Privileged Dienne and saw you shoot her through the hand.” Manhouch barked a laugh.

Tamas did not see what was so funny. “It was instinct, my lord.”

“Instinct, when faced with a Privileged, is to flee. Instinct is to cower. You did none of those things.”

“Fleeing from a battle usually makes things worse.”

Manhouch nodded sharply. “Something that few people truly understand. Captain Tamas, you now have my attention.”

The question , Tamas asked himself, was whether he truly wanted the king’s attention . Tamas tried to consider where this conversation would go. The king wanted something. Otherwise Tamas would not be here. But what? He bowed his head. “My duty is to serve, your majesty.”

“Everyone’s duty is to serve,” Manhouch said. “Even I, king of Adro, live to serve my people. It’s the way of civilization.” He began to pace the room, clearly agitated. “But the cabal does not see it that way. They feel that they are above reproach, even from me. They need to be disabused of this notion.”

Tamas suddenly knew where this was going, and he did not like it one bit. Working moisture into his mouth, he repeated, “My duty is to serve.”

“You’re a remarkable soldier,” Manhouch said. “You may, if you survive the next few decades, one day make it to general. To do so you will need a powerful patron. One who doesn’t give a damn about who leads his armies, as long as they win their battles.” Manhouch stopped pacing and crossed the room to stand beside Tamas. “And I, Captain, need killing done.”

“He wants you to what ?” Erika demanded.

Tamas was in Budwiel, a week after his meeting with the king. He had decided that Adopest was not safe and had sent word for Erika to meet him here, at a small apartment he kept under a false name on the Kez border. She was still in his arms, both their jackets already on the floor, when he told her the news.

“Kill Privileged Dienne,” Tamas repeated.

Erika stepped away from him and snatched the blanket off of his bed, throwing it around her bare shoulders. “You’d be mad.”

“I shot her once. I can do it again.”

“And you have to be sure that shot is lethal this time.”

“There’s that,” Tamas admitted.

“Why does he want her dead?” Erika asked.

Tamas retrieved his jacket from the floor, wishing he had kept his mouth shut until after they had some time together.

“Don’t put that on, I’m not done with you,” Erika said. “Tell me why he wants her dead.”

Tamas took a deep breath. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have told Erika any of this. Pit, she shouldn’t even be here. As far as the he was concerned, he was still a wanted man. He knew that he couldn’t trust anyone at court or in the city.

“Because,” he said, “the cabal has been flexing their muscles. They’ve ignored his summons. Disobeyed his orders. They have more than a hundred and fifty full-fledged Privileged. That’s enough to raze the entire country if they wanted and they know it. They’re growing drunk with their own power. Privileged Dienne bungled a major operation on the last campaign in Gurla, so she’s the best choice for an … example.”

“It has the added benefit,” he continued, “that Dienne’s job is to see me dead or disgraced. It’s not me against the cabal. It’s just me against her. This is no longer impossible.”

“You’re still a madman to try it.”

“I have no choice. The king forbade her from killing me outright but even he admits that his grasp on the cabal is tenuous. She’ll try for my head sooner or later.”

“You said it’s her assignment. Does that mean if you kill her this will be over? Or will they just send someone else? What if she gets reinforcements?”

Tamas hesitated. “I’m not sure. The king claims that no one else actually knows about our fight with the cabal guards. He says that Dienne will try to kill me on her own to avoid losing face with the rest of the cabal. Oh, and he knows you’re involved.”

Erika dropped down on the bed and bit absently at one of her fingernails. “How does he know?”

“He has prominent members of the cabal followed, and his spies told him about our fight. Somehow they knew who you were.”

The information did not seem to faze her. “How will you kill her?”

Tamas patted the rifle he had leaned against the doorpost. “Bullet to the head from a half mile. It’s my only real option.”

“Can’t do that,” Erika said.

Tamas frowned. “What do you mean?”

She pointed to his rifle. “The cabal can’t know you were involved.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

“Is that what the king told you to do?”

“No,” Tamas said. “He just said to kill her.”

“Nothing about how he wanted it done?”

“None,” Tamas said.

Erika got up and crossed the room, pulling a bottle out of her bag. “Everberry cordial,” she said. “All the way from Fatrasta, and not a drop of alcohol in it.” She produced two wine glasses wrapped carefully in newspaper, then poured them each a glass of the black cordial. “The cabal can’t know about your involvement,” she repeated, handing Tamas a glass and leading him by his hand to the bed. “If Dienne simply dies, the cabal may lose interest in you. At least long enough for you to get back your footing. However, if they suspect that a powder mage killed her they will come for your head. Your shot would have to be flawless, made to look like it came from a nearby window. Are you that good?”