19 - Opportunity

  Three steps. That’s how many strides it took to cross the room. Three. One, two, three. One, two, three. Back and forth, and every step built the tension until it threatened to snap.

  A message. Wallace had been expecting a message days ago. But what message could he send? Succeeded? Failed? Dead? Not dead? It was hard to decide when he didn’t know which was the truth.

  He had delivered the poison - enough to kill five men. He watched it fall into the food. He watched it being consumed by that monster. It should have died. But he knew the signs. He knew what subtle shifts would have occurred in the wake of its death, what tensions and gravity it would have brought to the castle - emergency meetings at odd hours, whispers in corridors, and sleepless nights.

  But there was nothing like that. The routines remained the same. Voss continued to walk these halls with his head held too high. The tower remained locked to the outside world. If anything, security had tightened even more.

  He supposed it could be Voss. What if he suspected foul play?

  The boards creaked beneath his feet as he shifted his weight, increasing his speed. Each step now felt like the soles of his boots had been weighted with lead.

  That could make sense. That thought unsettled him. The high commander had already proven clever enough. If the monster had already recovered enough that a sudden death would seem suspicious, perhaps the high commander knew someone was responsible. He had managed to avoid the king’s witch hunts. What if this incident had reinforced his presence instead of preserving his anonymity?

  He gripped his wrist tighter behind his back.

  One, two, three. One, two, three.

  Bang! Bang!

  “Quit that!” someone yelled on the other side of the wall. “I’m trying to sleep here!”

  He froze. He didn’t realize how much noise he’d been making.

  “Sorry,” he called out.

  Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to sit on the edge of his bed. Slowly, his hands relaxed against his thighs.

  No. No, that also didn’t make enough sense. He glanced briefly towards the uniform hanging over the back of the chair. The small badge in the top pocket of his coat gave him access to manifest records and supply routes. He worked without supervision. He was trusted. If they’d been onto him, they’d have started by taking away his solitude. That only left one option.

  It was alive.

  He closed his eyes. Shit. He was a dead man walking.

  Wallace had already expressly told him extraction was the only right choice. He’d already broken that command with the choice to kill it instead and walk away. That alone would put him on thin ice. But to have failed twice over? This was no longer damage control. This was survival.

  His mind scrambled. There had to be something he could do. Breaking in wasn’t an option anymore, but neither was staying put for orders. Wallace would cut him off in a heartbeat if he hadn’t already shattered the private communication stone.

  Bang, bang!

  His sanity snapped. He’d already stopped pacing. He stood up, ready to yell, when -

  Bang, bang, bang!

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The pounding came again, this time in his neighbor’s door.

  “Up! Captain’s orders. We’ve got immediate placement. Up now!” came the call.

  The shuffle of feet and the half scramble to throw on a uniform could be heard up and down the barracks. He hesitated. Immediate placement? This was a new knight company in the middle of a ceasefire. Had something happened? Had Savidor made their move already? Why hadn’t he heard anything from his asset?

  He would deal with that one later. For now, he threw on his uniform and followed the others out into the corridor, coat half unbuttoned by the time he reached the edge of the crowd that began to gather in the mess hall. He looked around at the half-sleepy faces. Youth. A lot of it. Young men and women had joined up in the hopes of fighting on the front lines, but none of them had seen so much as a paper cut yet. And yet…there were more here than he recognized. His company, yes, but among those he knew mingled those he had seen more in passing. Two companies?

  Ahead, three people stood on a raised platform. He recognized the two captains - Roe and Creed. Decent leaders. Strong authority. He did not, however, immediately recognize the third by sight. But the clipboard, the fastidious nature of his uniform, and the way he stood, eyes scanning as if looking for weaknesses gave him away. He swallowed.

  There were certain people that simply radiated authority. Josiah Lyndon was one. His reputation preceded him in all the worst ways. He was efficient, he was tight-lipped, and he was trusted. The best kind of leader. The worst kind of enemy. He didn’t stop to clear his throat. He didn’t need to. Once he started talking, everyone shut up.

  “Good morning,” he said. “I know it’s early. I apologize for the rude awakening, but unfortunately, we are under a time constraint. As most of you are aware, I am Josiah Lyndon, Count of House Ashburn and aide to his majesty. I have come with a new assignment. You are all hereby placed under restrictive administration - you may not come and go except by written permission. All prior leave of absences are also to be terminated and rescheduled at such a time as deemed acceptable by myself and your captains. Congratulations - you have all been elevated to the rank of knight, and your companies have been placed under my command.”

  A ripple of murmurs raced through the crowd of soldiers. Even he was stunned. Knights?

  Lyndon held up a hand. The room quieted once more.

  “Furthermore, you will be remanded to the Second Knight Order. There you will begin training with the best of them,” he said.

  He fought the urge to sit down. Second Order. The one place he’d worked so hard to get into was also the one place he was now expected to just walk into. He wanted to pinch himself. To his left, several soldiers actually did.

  “Erm, sir?” called out one of the bolder women. “May I ask…why?”

  Sounds of agreement rumbled from the group.

  “That’s a fair question,” Captain Creed acknowledged.

  “Indeed,” Lyndon agreed, nodding once as he adjusted his spectacles. “But first you should know that from this point forward, you are all under a gag order, under pain of death. Utter a single word outside these walls and the punishment will be swift and without trial. That is how critical this mission is.” Lyndon nodded to the captains. “There is no easier way of explaining this, so I will say it outright - The Monster of Savidor is alive and in Adern custody.”

  The room exploded. This time, he did sit down. His ass found a bench before he could keel over.

  “What do you mean its alive?”

  “The monster burned up!”

  “How?”

  “Why are we being told this only now?!”

  The questions kept coming. Lyndon stood like a bulwark through them all, expression steady. Roe and Creed shouted into the mix.

  “Alright, alright! Settle down!” Roe cried, holding up her hands as if to stem the tide.

  “That’s enough out of you lot!” Creed snapped. “Pipe down.”

  Lyndon waited until the room had gone quiet again, then nodded.

  “Let me assure you I understand your shock,” he said. “But his majesty and the high commander have controlled the situation to this point and our job is not the question their decisions, only to support them. You have one hour to clear out your barracks and report to the parade grounds. Your new uniforms are being issued as we speak. From there, you will all be transfered to the new Second Order Tower on the eastern cliffs.”

  “Get a move on!” Captain Roe shouted.

  And the barracks sprang to life.

  He didn’t wait. He slipped through the crowd of soldiers - knights now, he supposed - and straight to his room. There, he quickly closed the door behind him and barred it with the chair. Then, he knelt beside the bed and pulled out a knife, sliding the edge between two floorboards. Four from the western wall. He worried it until it rose. Reaching into the hole, he pulled out the small orb that he had hidden carefully. An emergency contact. Opportunity. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for.

  He only hoped Wallace hadn’t actually shattered that stone.