Bastial Frenzy (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 4) (31 page)

“He was the king who kept Rek in the castle, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, Rek came into Kyrro on a wolf’s back during Westin’s third year ruling. His initial intentions with Rek were good. He was going to let his staff take care of the young Elf in hopes they could learn more about his kind. We knew they were on the northern end of the continent but had no official contact with them. Travelers would tell stories, and there were a few books about them, but that was it. When Rek’s father used psyche that was incomparable to what our psychics could do, Westin figured Rek could be just as powerful. He looked at the little Elf as the key to figuring out psyche.” Kerr’s thin eyes opened wide. “In some ways, he was right. Psychics worked with Rek every day. By the time he was fourteen, he was already the strongest psychic known to us. Did Rek tell you this already?”

“He shared some of his experiences within the castle, but we’ve always been too busy with other concerns to discuss it in detail.”

“After what Westin did to Rek’s father—having guards beat him and banish him from the city—concerns began to develop. But remember, that was only his third year ruling. His paranoia started very slowly, only showing itself in moments of desperation at first. Westin ruled for seven years in total. By the sixth year, we were in agreement that he wasn’t fit to lead any longer. But what we couldn’t agree upon was what to do about it. It was only when Westin’s intentions with his son became clear that the discussion of assassination really began. Westin had started to teach Welson terrible ruling strategies—fear, violence, insatiable greed of power.” Kerr’s face twisted more with each word. “We knew we had to stop him before it was too late.”

“Was my father on this council?” Cleve asked, not taking the time to figure out what he felt yet.

“He wasn’t one of the founding members, but we did recruit him during Westin’s last year. We…wanted someone skilled with long-range shooting.”

Cleve suddenly felt nauseous. He held his hand up for Kerr to stop as he keeled over, worried he was going to retch. He felt Kerr’s hand on his back as the councilman reached through the bars. Cleve fought back the bile, stood, and took a deep breath.

“When the council began, there were only five of us: me, my wife, Marie Fyremore, Jack Rose, and Nick Tarcos,” Kerr continued.

“I didn’t know you were married.”

“Riata and I wed the same year that Westin came to power and the secret council was formed. But she died just one year later from illness.”

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded, his eyes reflecting his grief.

“Riata was my grandmother’s name,” Cleve said. “She died before I was born.”

Kerr showed Cleve a reserved grin. “That’s the same woman I’m talking about.”

“What?” Cleve blurted. “Does that mean…we’re…?” He pointed back and forth between himself and the councilman. “Wait a moment, she was married to Clint Polken. I don’t think we’re talking about the same woman.”

Kerr laughed. “We are. She married me after Clint passed away. Do you know how your grandfather died?”

Cleve remembered then. He could feel everything coming together. “In the battle that brought Westin to power. So you three knew each other?”

“I got to know him and Riata very well. I didn’t care much for him, though. He was abusive to her physically. He kept his hands off your father, but not Riata. She and I…found comfort in each other’s company.”

“Bastial hell, I knew none of this. So that’s how you got to know my father?”

“Yes, and in the same way Dex didn’t talk about this, he never would’ve told you about the council or what he did. I’m sure he was just waiting for you to be older. You were so young when he died. Ten, right?”

“Yes.”

“He joined the council a few years before you were born, if I remember right,” Kerr said. “We wanted to keep it small, but during our first year Javy Rayvender somehow figured out what we were doing. Still to this day I don’t know how. Rather than telling the King, he joined us. Javy, Jack, Marie, and I were still there at the end of Westin’s rule…and we had some terrible arguments. If Riata and Nick Tarcos hadn’t died, everything would’ve been so different. They were both skilled at finding solutions to impossible problems. Nick was the brother of the Piranha—Jenick Tarcos. Just like the Piranha, he died of heart failure, five years after the council was formed. He was the strongest advocate of peace among all of us, with Javy being on the opposite end, steadfast in his belief that assassination was the only solution.”

Cleve took deep breaths as he soaked in the information. “But eventually it was decided that Dex needed to shoot Westin?” His stomach lurched.

“No, actually. We never all agreed to that. When the council was formed, one of the rules was that we wouldn’t take any action unless the decision was unanimous.”

“But Dex did shoot the King?”

“He did,” Kerr whispered.

“I don’t understand.”
Don’t tell me my father acted on his own when others voted against the assassination.

“Your father eventually agreed with Javy that shooting the King with an arrow while he was on his balcony was the best solution to the problem. In fact, eventually all of us agreed with Javy except for one—Jack Rose. The chemist wouldn’t condone murder. We met each month to vote, but Jack never changed his mind. Your father didn’t work for the King, so it was difficult for him to make the meetings, which took place in the castle. He later made it clear that he wanted to leave the decision up to us. So we came to the understanding that if the vote ever became unanimous, a letter containing nothing but a blue ribbon with the symbol of Kyrro would arrive at Dex’s home. This was his sign that Jack had finally changed his mind. So when it arrived, Dex waited for Westin to emerge on the castle balcony, as the late King did every evening after dinner, and he shot him. But what your father didn’t know was that Jack hadn’t changed his mind. Javy had delivered the envelope on his own.”

There wasn’t the slightest doubt that everything Kerr said was true. Cleve felt empty, like his heart and stomach were missing. Memories of his father felt so unnatural now—learning how to use a bow, every discussion about never using the weapon to harm another person. He didn’t know if he should fight the feeling or let his memories be changed forever.

“I’m sure he would’ve told you,” Kerr said once more, “when you were older.”

“So Welson found out about this.”

“Yes, he spent many years investigating his father’s death. I’m sure he suspects more people than just Dex were behind it, but it would ruin him to find out who it really was.”

“So there’s no more council in case Welson starts behaving like his father?”

“Javy was removed from the council the moment we discovered what had happened. But we continued to meet…and still exist, though there hasn’t been a meeting in years. There’s been no need with Welson. He’s nothing like his father, thankfully. I know you’re furious with him, and I would never tell you that you shouldn’t be. But he’s a good king who’s made some mistakes, as we all have. You don’t need to like him, Cleve. But you can’t keep talking about what happened, nor can you act on your feelings. We need him to remain focused on the war…without injury.” Kerr eyed him as if Cleve was planning to shoot the King with his own arrow.

“What could I do stuck in this prison cell? You have nothing to worry about.”

“I believe I can get you out of here.” Kerr pushed out his palms before Cleve could get excited. “But you need to do something very difficult first.”

“Anything.”

“You must speak to Welson and show him that he doesn’t need to worry about you any longer. We’ve spoken about you. He knows what an asset you are to his army. Can you put your emotions aside?”

“I can. Especially now that I know he wasn’t lying.”
Though I don’t know how I’m going to feel about my father tomorrow.
He killed a man, after the countless times he told me never to do just that.

“I’m relieved. Welson is extremely busy, so I must bring you to him when he has a free moment. You’ll be chained. I hope this doesn’t deter you?”

“No.”

“I’ll speak to him first on your behalf. Then guards will come get you when it’s time. I must go. There’s so much to do.”

Cleve stuck out his hand. Kerr took it with a firm shake.

“Thank you,” Cleve said.

“It’s the least I could do. Don’t forget I played a role in you being chosen for Rek’s assassination, expecting you to find a way out of killing him.”

“I haven’t forgotten, and I hold no grudge.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Eventually Cleve heard many sets of boots coming down his hallway.

“I know the way! No need to be shoving.”

That voice—Cleve had wondered if he’d be seeing Captain Mmzaza again.

“So you’re the men protecting my king?” Cleve heard spit hit the stone. “My grandmother was stronger than the three of you punies put together.”

Cleve expected to hear harsh words returned, perhaps even a punch to the Captain’s gut. However, the guards were silent.

Captain Mmzaza continued to insult them as Cleve heard a clank and then a key setting a lock. But still, the guards said nothing.

The boots came his way.

“Cleve Polken?” one guard inquired. He nodded.

“Cleve?” Captain Mmzaza said. “Cleve, you in here, boy?”

The guards opened Cleve’s cell. “Turn around.” They fastened his hands together behind his back.

“Cleve Polken. Don’t think I’d forget your name!” Mmzaza laughed. “What did you do to get back in here?”

Cleve saw the guards watching, waiting for his answer.

“I said some things that I shouldn’t have…that were wrong.”

“Ah, I’ve made that mistake all too many times. Will you be sailing back to Greenedge, me boy?”

“Perhaps at some point.”

“Captain Mmzaza’s going to be stuck here for a while. If you need a good captain, you know where to find me.”

Cleve walked by his cell with the guards. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Mmzaza reached out to grab Cleve’s shoulder. Cleve feared the guards would jab Mmzaza’s arm, but surprisingly they made no motion toward their swords. Where was their eagerness to subdue defiance that they’d shown when Cleve first came to Kyrro City?

“The next time I see you, boy, it better not be in prison. You hear what Captain Mmzaza’s saying?”

Cleve was shocked. “I understand.”

“Good. Now I’ll inebriate myself.” He hummed as he reached into his sleeve and produced a flask.

The guards shoved Cleve forward. When they were far enough away, Cleve couldn’t hold in his curiosity any longer.

“Why were you so gentle with him?” he asked. They hadn’t even taken away the old sea captain’s flask.

“The man’s harmless. We have far worse enemies to fight than Mmzaza.”

So that was it. These men had gone with Reela and the others to Tenred. They’d seen battle recently and no longer hungered for it.

As they came out of the dungeon and into the light, it took some time for Cleve’s eyes to adjust. It wasn’t until he was in the grand entrance hall that he could open his eyes fully. The colors of the castle were a pleasant change from the stark gray. Decorative banners and paintings adorned the walls and gave him a feeling of belonging.

This was Kyrro’s castle, not just the King’s. The castle had existed nearly as long as the territory itself. Much of its history had happened within these walls. The Krepps had even tried to take it, and they’d failed. Cleve smiled as pride filled his chest. He was ready to fight, no matter what he had to say to Welson.

The guards didn’t bring Cleve into a throne room. Instead, he was taken to a room he’d been in once before when he’d come with Rek and the rats. It was a large room, about the size of Cleve’s student home. It contained no furniture but one massive table in its center. Surrounding it were leather seats, the backs embroidered with crowns, swords and shields, each one different, sometimes just by color. There was a hearth along one wall at the opposite end. Above it was the familiar portrait of Welson’s father, Westin, with arms folded beneath a stern expression.

Welson was standing beneath the painting, leaning over the table with his palms flat against it. At the sight of Cleve, he pointed at a bare spot on the wall between banners. The guards moved him there.

“Stay quiet and don’t stare,” one whispered.

Cleve dared not interrupt the conversation between those seated around the table. He spotted Kerr among the men, then Rayvender as well. The more he looked at the group, the more others became familiar. He recognized Liaison Wilfre next.

“And if they don’t sign the treaty?” one inquired.

“Then we must give them a better reason to,” Welson said, “before the Krepps attack. Rayvender, send them another message when we’re finished here. Tell Tegry Hiller that we’ll attack and destroy more than just their wall if they don’t agree to a meeting. I’ll even meet in neutral territory outside the Fjallejon Pathway if that’s what it takes.”

“He’s untrustworthy and dangerous,” Kerr said. “I don’t recommend meeting him anywhere else except within our castle.”