Sky and Storm ( Warriors of Vis #1)(24)
Eagle blinked, opening his mouth. No words came out.
“Well, my lord. Should I afford you the courtesy of telling you, as you’ve been so gentle as to knock on my door first?”
The weird speech had Sky chuckling. “What does that even mean? Are you escaping?”
Eagle’s mouth fell open again, a fresh wave of rosy shame coloring his cheeks. He let his head fall and dropped the sheet rope he’d put together.
“I apologize for not knocking, by the way. I was so eager to talk to you it completely slipped my mind.” Sky gave Eagle a sheepish grin and motioned for him to come back inside.
With a heavy sigh, Eagle came to join Sky on the edge of his bed.
“You are bored and I need assistance,” Sky started.
Eagle quirked an eyebrow and looked into the prince’s eyes, but remained silent.
“I need you to train me. I want to be as good as Storm’s soldiers.”
Eagle’s laughter broke the silence that had engulfed the room after Sky’s statement.
“What’s so amusing?” Sky asked, scowling at Eagle.
The warrior sobered up fast and cleared his throat. “You’re not joking, then?”
“No, I’m not joking,” Sky yelled, waving his arms around. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Why would I be joking?”
Eagle shrugged, and relaxed on the bed. “I never thought you had the will or stamina to train as a warrior.”
Sky deflated at the words. “That was before. I was… Storm and I…”
“You had issues, the whole court knows.”
Sky cringed and looked down.
“No, I didn’t mean to offend,” Eagle said, his voice meek. “I have spent all my life around Storm, I know him. And I know all those rumors about him aren’t true. So why do you want me to train you?”
“I want to be good enough to join Storm when he leaves for battle.”
Eagle shook his head, his eyes never leaving Sky’s. “He’ll never let you fight.”
“I don’t much care if he lets me fight or not.” Sky shrugged and pushed away a lock of unruly hair. In his rush, he’d forgotten to tie it up and away from his face. “As long as I’m allowed to follow him, I’m happy.”
“Have you considered you might distract him? Cost him his life?” Eagle asked, his eyes burning.
Sky shook his head. “I’ve seen him fight, I’ve seen how he gets lost in it. Unless he’s looking at me being murdered in front of him, Storm being distracted in battle is impossible.”
Eagle seemed to ponder Sky’s words. He finally nodded once, and stood up. “Fine then. I’ll train you. I won’t go easy on you because you’re a prince. Or a beginner. And in exchange, you’ll get me out of here before I go insane.”
“Agreed,” Sky said, grabbing Eagle’s arm under the elbow. “But I am no beginner.”
CHAPTER XI
The Shifting Waves
STORM KNEW HE WAS pushing his horse too hard, but he couldn’t help it. The castle was in sight. The red banners his elite warriors carried were a dirty replica of those fluttering against the tall walls keeping Sky safe. It had been a difficult campaign, exhausting and disgusting.
The rebels that had attacked Mitas had been vicious. Bodies of children torn apart and scattered throughout the stronghold; women raped and beaten for days, then left to die on the cold stones paving the roads of the reinforced town; houses burnt to the ground, provisions destroyed. It was all Storm hated in waging war. No honor, no humanity. He’d never slaughtered innocents. Never touched women or children.
They’d taken the stronghold easily. The Dragon and his men knew of the secret tunnels in and out of Mitas. All of Vis’s strongholds had them, just like all the castles and former city-states. Storm had insisted on building them in case of siege. Word had to get out and provisions needed to get in. It also made taking back occupied citadels child’s play.
Most of those who had taken the stronghold were mercenaries with little useful knowledge, and the true rebels had died while being tortured. No one talked. They spewed their ideas and made accusations, but no one mentioned any leader, any military mastermind pointing them toward their next prey. Whoever the leader was, he was charismatic enough that his men would die for him.
Something was brewing at the fringes of Storm’s empire, whispers and violent outbursts heralding it. He didn’t like it one bit. Through the years, Storm had conquered, and his father had led. The king wasn’t a loving ruler, but he was fair. Like Storm, his father didn’t believe in starving his people to gain more money. The Crown of Vis was involved in a lot of trading, everything from goods to military services. They made sure all territories they ruled prospered, so that their subjects were happy. They needed the occasional nudge now and then to pay their taxes, but there hadn’t been a commoners’ rebellion in ages.
Yet what Storm had heard along the way to Mitas… It was disturbing. Governors, noblemen, garrison commanders, they all abused their powers, and their king turned a blind eye. No wonder people rebelled. All Storm needed to discover was who was paying for this uprising. Mercenaries weren’t cheap, not even the sloppy, fat, and drunk ones that had made most of the cohorts holding Mitas captive. Someone had to foot the cost, provide food, weapons, healers. It also baffled Storm that only those ruling over the farthest provinces had succumbed to the desire of being tyrants. Was it because they thought they were too far to face any disciplinary action from the Crown? Or were they easier to influence because they were so far removed from Vis? Regardless of why and how, everything was changing. A wave of dishonesty, cruelty, and violence was making its way through Vis’s territories. If Storm didn’t stop it soon, they’d have to put out uprisings in every province.