The Shadow Throne (The Ascendance Trilogy, #3)(71)

Conner sat on the edge of his desk. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to me for the gash on my head. When the bleeding was mostly stopped, he asked, “The night you were crowned, after you exposed my crimes to the court, why didn’t you have me executed?”

“Obviously, that was a mistake on my part.”

“Maybe so. But why didn’t you?”

The heat in my glare could’ve boiled water. After a heavy sigh, I said, “I always felt you had more of a role to play for Carthya. Clearly you do, but it turned out to be somewhat less noble than I had hoped for. What you’ve done now, aligning yourself with Avenia, that’s the ultimate betrayal of your country. You once told me that despite your crimes, you were still a patriot. I’m sure we can agree that’s no longer true.”

Conner’s eyes narrowed. “Arrogant boy! Always so certain you have all the answers.”

“Then answer me this. Imogen is still wounded — she needs food and a bed and a physician. I know how you treated her as a servant, but are you really so cruel as to let her die in the dungeons?”

“I sent her there so that you would know she still lives!” Conner crossed the room to stand directly in front of me. His eyes briefly flicked to the vigils behind us before he said, “You foiled plans I spent a lifetime creating. Took away everything I was, everything I had. I hate you for that. You know things about me I thought no one could, learned the secrets of Farthenwood, and you have crowded many more secrets within its walls. Jaron, you will not destroy this final plan of mine. Do you understand me?”

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.”