The Dark Glory War (53 page)

I stiffened as he read that final article. I marveled at the work of politicians because I found it as deadly and beautiful as a master swordsman’s bladework. They would allow me to admit I had been sent back by my fellows and, through no fault of my own, had failed to bring them help. The only alternative was to be branded a traitor, and actually beingbranded a traitor was the least of the punishments I could face for that crime. In essence they were telling me that if I disputed their findings, I’d be put to death.

Even I could see how futile a gesture that would be. Duke Larner looked up at me. “Do you understand what has been read to you?”

“I do.”

“Do you accept these conclusions as the truth?”

“Are they the truth?” I looked out at the rulers assembled there. “The pass will reopen, we know that. Boragul may be abandoned now, but always? You know that the story I told you is true, but it is a story you cannot allow to be told. If it is told, if I go out and tell it, then your people will know that the security they believe they have now is a lie. Perhaps this generation is safe, but what of the next?”

I opened my hands. “I will accept what you say of me providedyou know that Chytrine will return, whether in five years or ten or thirty. If you do nothing to prepare for her return, the blood of thousands, of hundreds of thousands, will be on your hands. Whether you are alive or dead, your names will become a curse and your memories will be mocked.”

Scrainwood shot to his feet at his mother’s side. Rage purpled the lower parts of his face and sent a quiver through the finger he pointed at me. “You are in no position to dictate to us, traitor!”

The pure venom in his voice was meant to hurt me, but instead it made me laugh. “And you, Prince Scrainwood, know better than the others the horror that will descend upon us when Chytrine comes back. Don’t let your cowardice shield you from what you know to be true.”

His voice dropped to a cruel whisper. “What I know to be true is this, Tarrant Hawkins. I know the rulers here gathered have decided, in their wisdom, to set you free, to let you live out your life as you might. But we of Oriosa are not so kindly disposed to those who flout authority, strike their betters, and sully the reputations of heroes. You are henceforth and forev-ermore banished from Oriosa.”

Scrainwood waved someone into the room. I heard bootheels click across the floor, then found mvself facing my father. A smile lit my face, then drained away as it found no mate on his face.

I saw no warmth in his eyes. “Father?”

“You left Kenwick Norrington to die and lied about it.”

“Father, I …”

He raised a hand as if to strike me. “I have no son named Tarrant.” Reaching his hand out, he grasped the top edge of my mask and tore it away.

The day they took my mask was the day Tarrant Hawkins died.

The story of Hawkins and the DragonCrown continues inFortress Draconis, which is now available.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The author hopes this book will stay in print for a long time, which means this bio would become dated very quickly. For up-to-date information about him, please visit www.Stormwolf.com. The information there should amuse and enlighten. Best of all, it’s not a waste of treeflesh.

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