Crown of One Hundred Kings (Nine Kingdoms Trilogy #1) - Rachel Higginson Page 0,53
fine. You’re fine. We’re fine.”
His chin jutted mutinously, “But, what if?”
“I would never have let them touch her,” Arrick declared with that rumbling voice.
Both Oliver and I nearly fell off our saddles. We hadn’t realized he was that close. Or close at all.
Arrick directed his horse next to mine. He’d pulled his hood back so I could see his face, but only barely. “They wouldn’t have gotten within ten yards of you before I slaughtered them, Tess. Every last one of them. You must believe me.”
He didn’t sound desperate or afraid. He was utterly sure of himself. I found that I believed him too. He had kept me safe thus far, why shouldn’t he protect me from the Ring of Shadows as well?
But I couldn’t tell him that. He already had way too much self-confidence. I couldn’t feed his ego and still be expected to tolerate him.
So instead, I said, “They seemed to know you, Commander. Are you in league with the Ring of Shadows?”
“The Ring of Shadows is a collective of mercenaries. What started as a small contingent of warlords has grown into an army of men dissatisfied with the realm and those who rule it.” He cleared his throat as his gaze darted away from mine for a moment. When it returned, something bleak appeared in his bright blue eyes, something shameful. “They believe the rebel army is as dissatisfied as they. They have asked us to join.”
“And you refuse?”
“We’ve lost men to them. Men who have felt that my methods are too restrained,” Arrick admitted and I felt the pain and grief in his words. “But our agendas do not align.”
Genuine curiosity lit up inside me. To an outsider, it would seem as though they did. The rebel army was known for their ruthlessness, as was the Ring of Shadows. The rebel army was known for their disregard for crown and country, the same as the Ring of Shadows.
But as I looked to the merchant family offering the rebel soldiers expensive perfumes and oils out of gratitude, I knew without a doubt the two forces were vastly different.
No matter what the rebel army professed, it remained the champion of the people, not an enemy. And it was clear by what I witnessed today the same could not be said for the Ring of Shadows.
“And yet they recruit you?” I asked.
“With determination,” Arrick answered. His shoulders sagged. “It can be exhausting. War is in our future, but I do not relish the idea of risking my men at the hands of those demons.”
Oliver broke in, “Do they have a leader?”
Arrick nodded. “He remains a mystery. Some say they make their base in Blackthorne, but no one knows for sure. No one knows their full numbers. They are skilled in pagan magics and deadly arts. I cannot engage in battle with them until I know more. Until I know exactly what we will be up against.”
“They are a long way from Blackthorne,” I said simply to say something.
“They are all over the realm,” Arrick explained. “You can find them in any kingdom, in any village. Their numbers grow daily. Their threat deepens by the hour.”
Before I could respond, I heard the rumble of horses on the highway. I tensed. My hand fell to the hilt of my sword and I readied myself for the war Arrick just admitted we couldn’t win.
“Of course, they show up now,” Arrick grumbled.
“Who?” I asked.
Before Arrick could answer, riders wearing tunics boasting the Tenovian colors of black and red and the Tenovian crest upon their chests appeared on the road, racing toward us with swords drawn and silver helmets gleaming.
The Tenovian army.
Arrick did not pull his weapon, nor did his men reveal theirs. Instead, they waited in the middle of the highway, looking irritated.
The commander of the Tenovian army drew to a stop directly in front of us, anger on his paunchy face.
“You’ve made the wrong section of highway your resting place, Arrick Westnovian.” he bellowed as spit sprayed from his thick lips. “By order of King Sasha Sennoa of Tenovia and the power of the realm presided over by Tyrn Fennick, King of Elysia, you have been exiled from this kingdom, along with your band of marauders.”
“Exiled?” Arrick laughed. “By the King of Tenovia? This is a joke, Donivan. It has to be.”
Donivan’s beady eyes narrowed until they were almost invisible in the folds of his face. His impressive weight tipped on the too-tiny saddle beneath him and he wobbled precariously.