A Crown for Assassins

“Good,” Endi said. He looked over to his brother. “It looks as though we’re going to have a solution to the canal problem. Come on, Oli.”

He led the way back to where the statues had been broken up, the rubble lying in fragments on the ground. Perhaps a dozen men and women stood there, their hands bound.

“I’m told you are the ones who own farmsteads on the route of our new canal,” Endi said. “That you refused to sell your properties, even though I tried to be generous.”

“They’re our farms!” a man piped up.

“And this is about the prosperity of the whole of Ishjemme,” Endi shot back. “Every family will benefit, including yours. I want to offer you the money again. Can’t you see that you have no choice?”

“A man is always free to choose his path in Ishjemme,” another of the farmers shot back.

“Yes, but that path has consequences,” Endi said. “I’ll give you one last chance. As your duke, I command you to yield your claims.”

“It’s our land!” the first man shouted.

Endi sighed. “Just remember that I gave you the choice. Refusing to heed your duke’s command is treason. Men, execute the traitors.”

His men moved forward, the same axes and hammers in their hands that they’d used to smash the statues. They smashed flesh just as easily. Statues might not shriek, or beg, or make wet, gurgling sounds, but the crack of bone was near enough to the crack of stone. Endi looked around at his brother, not surprised to see Oli ashen-faced. His brother wasn’t as strong as he was.

“I know it’s hard, Oli,” he said, as more cries came in the background, “but we must do what is necessary if we are to make Ishjemme strong. If I do not do the cruel things that must be done, then others will come in and do worse.”

“As… as you say, brother.”

Endi took his brother by the shoulders. “At least this means that the way will be clear for the building projects now. I’m right in thinking that a traitor’s lands are forfeit, aren’t I?”

“I… I think that there are precedents,” Oli said. Endi could hear the quaver in his voice.

“Find them for me,” Endi said.

“What about these people’s families?” Oli said. “Some will have children, or old folk.”

“Do whatever you think is best to care for them,” Endi said. “Just so long as you get them out of the way before the work must be done.”

“I will,” Oli said. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I… I’ll send out messages to the work crews at once.”

“See that you do,” Endi said.

He watched his brother hurrying off, knowing that Oli didn’t really understand the need for all of this. That was the luxury that came with knowing he would never have power. Rika had the same luxury. The two had probably been the only ones of his siblings who had never been warriors, never had to deal with the harsh realities of the world. Part of the reason that Endi had done all this in front of Oli was to make sure his brother learned what was sometimes needed.

It was for his own good. It was for everyone’s good. They would see it in time, and when they did, they would thank him for it. Even soft-hearted Rika would curtsey and admit that everything Endi had done was for the best. As for everyone else, they could go along with what needed to be done or…

Endi stood and listened to the sound of the hammers falling some more. They would thank him for it in the end.

CHAPTER SIX

Jan Skyddar must have been the only person in the whole of Ashton who found himself unhappy on Sophia’s wedding day, having to force a smile just so he wouldn’t ruin things for her and Sebastian, having to pretend that he was happy for her even though the ache in his heart threatened to tear him into pieces.

Now that they’d rushed her away to give birth to her child, to her and Sebastian’s child, it was even worse.

“Would you like to dance with me?” a noblewoman asked. Around Jan, the party seemed to be continuing, the music back in full swing as it turned from celebrating Sophia’s wedding to celebrating the impending heir to the throne.

The woman was beautiful, elegantly dressed, graceful. If he’d met her a year ago, Jan might have said yes to the dancing, and to almost anything else she suggested. Now, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t feel anything looking at her, because doing it was like staring at a candle compared to the sun. Sophia was the only one who mattered.

“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to be kind, to be good, to be all the things that he should be. “But there is… someone I am deeply in love with.”

“Someone waiting for you back in Ishjemme?” the noblewoman said, with a mischievous smile. “That means that she is not here.”

She reached for one of the laces of Jan’s doublet, and Jan caught her wrist gently but firmly.

“As I said,” he said with a rueful smile, “I love her very much. I don’t mean it as an insult, but I’m not interested.”

“A faithful man,” the noblewoman said, as she turned to walk off. “Whoever she is, I hope she knows how lucky she is.”

“If only things were that simple,” Jan said with a shake of his head.

He moved through the party trying not to be the ghost at the feast. The last thing he wanted to do was to spoil anyone else’s joy today, least of all Sophia’s. That was the hardest part about loving her so much, he found: it was impossible to be as selfish as he should have been about it. He should have felt jealousy toward Sebastian, should have hated him with a passion. Should have been angry with Sophia for choosing a man who had put her aside once over him.

He couldn’t do it. He loved Sophia too much for that. He wanted her to be happy more than anything else in the world.

“Are you well, Jan?” Lucas asked him, moving in with the kind of smoothness that made Jan grateful that the two of them would never cross blades. Jan had always thought that he could fight, but Sophia’s siblings were like something else entirely.

Maybe it was just as well that Jan’s mind was closed to being read by others, or they might have fought. Jan doubted Lucas would take well to knowing just how hopelessly in love Jan was with his sister.

“I’m fine,” Jan said. “Maybe a few too many nobles trying to catch me the way a fisherman would go after swordfish.”

“I’ve had the same problem,” Lucas said. “And it is hard celebrating when at the same time you are thinking about something else.”

For a moment, Jan thought that Lucas must have somehow seen past even the protections he had in place and seen things he shouldn’t have. Perhaps it was just so clearly written on his face that it didn’t take a mind reader to work it out.

“I am happy for my sisters,” Lucas said, with a smile. “There’s just a part of me that wants our parents here to witness all of this, and knows I could have been out finding them. Maybe I could have brought them back to see Sophia’s wedding, and the birth of their grandchild.”

“Or maybe sometimes we just have to be strong and accept that things don’t happen the way we want,” Jan suggested. “And it means that you get to be here. You get to see your niece or nephew.”

“Niece,” Lucas said. “Visions take the fun out of guessing. You’re right, though, Jan. I’ll wait. You’re a good man, cousin.”

He clasped Jan’s arm.

“Thank you,” Jan said, even if he wasn’t sure that he believed it sometimes. A truly good man wouldn’t hope that eventually Sophia would put all of this aside, loving him the same way he loved her.

“Now,” Lucas said, “I was looking for you because a message came for you by bird. The boy who brought it from the aviary is over there.”

Jan looked over to where a young man stood by one of the banquet tables, snatching food as though uncertain whether it was really meant for the likes of him.

“Thank you,” Jan said.

“You’re welcome. I should get back to Sophia. I want to be there when my niece comes into the world.”

Lucas walked away, leaving Jan to head over to the messenger. The boy looked a little guilty as Jan approached, stuffing a cake into his mouth and chewing hurriedly.