The Shadow Throne

I stared back at him. “Yes, Sir Master Conner.” I understood him perfectly now.

There was much more to say, but we both quieted when the doors opened behind us and Vargan slithered in with Kippenger and several other attendants on his heels. Conner left his post and bowed to Vargan, who acknowledged him with little more than an impolite grunt. Vargan held Conner in roughly the same respect as a spider admires its prey. Once he’d gotten everything he wanted from Conner, Vargan would hang him too.

Vargan’s face wrinkled as he studied me. “That’s a terrible cut on your head.”

“Blame Commander Kippenger for that. I think it makes me look like a martyr, don’t you?” I made a face of false regret. “You’ll obviously have to delay this morning’s activities until I’m healed.”

“And disappoint your audience?” he countered. “I think not. Why is there a bandage around your ankle?”

In all the commotion, I’d actually forgotten it was there. “Oh, that? My foot got cold in the night.”

“Only your foot?”

“It’s always been extra sensitive. Like my feelings.” I unwrapped it and let the bandages fall to the floor.

“You’ve been playing games with my men,” Vargan said. “Therefore, I will feel no guilt in playing games with yours.”

My eyes narrowed. “Playing games seems rather childish for someone so close to crumbling into dust.”

Vargan chuckled. “I’m never too old to enjoy a good joke. And I know you’ll like this as much as I will.” He gestured to Kippenger, who opened the door and exited. He returned only seconds later with another prisoner, his hands tied behind him and limping heavily. His head was down when he entered, and he raised it as if ashamed to be here. Only when he was forced to kneel beside Roden did his eyes meet mine.

“Tobias,” I breathed. “Not you too.”

“Here, at the end, the three orphan boys together?” Making no attempt to hide his pleasure, Conner clasped his hands and turned to Vargan. “Your Majesty, may I interpret this as your gift to me on the day of my coronation?”

“You may not,” Vargan said tersely. Then to me, he added, “Not long after Kippenger began the exodus from your camp, this boy walked in unarmed and told my remaining men that in exchange for you, he would surrender himself and provide medical care to all of my wounded. It was stupid to think we’d ever consider trading a king for a young physician, but we do give him credit for his loyalty.”

I snuck a glimpse at Tobias, who shrugged helplessly.

“Little did he know, you were already on your way here, and besides, we didn’t need his help. Kippenger’s orders were to kill all our wounded. They’re a drain on our resources.”

My eyes passed from Vargan to Kippenger, who was trying very hard not to betray his true feelings about having disposed of his own wounded men. Vargan may not have had much regard for his own armies, but that order seemed cruel even for him.

“Here is the game, then, Jaron.” Vargan seemed so delighted with himself that he was practically bubbling over with wicked excitement. “I have three necks in here, all worthy of hanging, but only two nooses. I will give you the opportunity to save one of you three. Who will it be? The captain of your guard, perhaps? He is strong and courageous. With so many losses to your armies, he would be vital for Carthya’s continued protection. Or will you save your scholar? He claimed to have saved many of your wounded the night before he surrendered, including a servant he says never leaves your side.”

So Mott was safe, then. I had been desperate for news about him.

Vargan laughed again. “Or will you save yourself? Surely no one is more valuable to Carthya than its king. A very large crowd is already gathering in front of Farthenwood. Let them watch us come out together and announce a grand bargain for all our lands. Choose yourself to survive, and I’ll allow you to serve me.”

“Are those my only options?” I asked.

“Did you have another one in mind?”

“Two nooses. I’m looking at your neck, and Conner’s.”

His eyes darkened. “Choose now, or I will order them to string up a third rope.”

“Let me die,” Tobias said. “I did what I could for your wounded. Carthya doesn’t need me any longer.”

“We both know someone who needs you very much,” I said. “You must live today.”

“Then choose me to die,” Roden said. “I’m honored to stand at your side, even at the gallows. Besides, there is nobody for me.”

Except there was. A father who needed him.

“We’ll both go,” Tobias said. “Not you.” Beside him, Roden nodded.

I appreciated their loyalty, but I still made a face. “Don’t be ridiculous. The failure of this war lies solely with me.” The weight of my attention shifted to Vargan. “This is my offer. I’ll let you hang me twice. I won’t even put up a fuss the second time.”

Conner smirked back at me. “If you won’t choose, then let’s run the third rope.”

“No.” I cast my eyes downward, unwilling to look at either of my friends. “Take Tobias away from here. Roden and I will go to the gallows.”

“No!” Tobias cried. “Save yourself, Jaron. Please!”

“Get him out of here,” I said.

“Escort him to the crowd in front of Farthenwood,” Vargan ordered. “Make sure he has a good view of his friends.”

Tobias tried to remain in the room, and put up a better fight than I’d have expected. Once he was gone, I turned to Roden. “Forgive me.”

“You made the right choice,” Roden whispered. “Though you did choose his name rather quickly.”

“He has a skinny neck. He’d have died faster.”

“That’s why you chose me? Because it’ll take me longer to die?”

“Yes, Roden, that’s exactly why.”

“Enough bickering!” Vargan grabbed a quill from Conner, then shoved it at me. “Sign these papers, Jaron. With your signature, Conner becomes king and Carthya becomes mine. Sign them or else you’ll —”

“No threats are necessary.” I stood and dipped the quill in the ink. “I gave myself up to do this very thing.” As I was writing, Roden, still kneeling in the back of the room, gasped. I knew he expected better from me, and certainly not my surrender. But I was doing the only thing I could, whether he understood that or not.

When I’d finished, I threw the quill against the back wall and told Vargan to get this next part over with. Conner inspected the document while Vargan called for my hands to be tied again. Conner asked for the honor of doing the task.

I held my hands out in front of me, but Conner ordered them at my back and wound the rope tightly against my wrists. With the sores already cut into the flesh, the rough cordage was far more painful than the chains had ever been. I suspected Conner must have known that, and likely took pleasure in it. Once we entered the great hall, I began working to untie the ropes, but Conner put one hand over the knots, preventing me from any movement there.

We stood at the doors of Farthenwood as an announcement was made that we were coming out. While we waited, Vargan leaned over to me and said, “Who did you think you were, to stand up to someone like me?”