The Broken Pieces(53)

Kaide held his breath as the moment lingered. This was it. Sebastian had cast his life at Arthur’s feet. Would he find succor, or a blade?

Arthur stepped forward, and he put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“By your bent knee, I am now ruler of the North in name and deed. I will not have my first act be the spilling of my own brother’s lifeblood. Stand, Sebastian. By gods it’s been too long since I looked upon your face.”

Sebastian did, and Arthur embraced him. That embrace sealed Kaide’s actions.

“Forgiven by you,” he said, turning their attention his way. “But not by me.”

Unchecked by the guards upon entering because of the fervor around Sebastian’s arrival, Kaide still had both his dirks tucked into his belt. He drew them, and like an arrow he lunged forward. One of Kevin’s men managed to draw his sword in time, and another flung his body in the way of the two lords. Kaide spun around the man, and the dirk in his left hand parried away the desperate chop. His feet touched the ground, and then he lunged again.

The tip of his dirk slid into the flesh of Sebastian’s throat, and as the blood poured across Kaide’s hand, the relief was everything he could have ever dreamed of. He imagined the souls of his parents, his siblings, his poor dear Sandra, all settling deeper into their graves, satisfied at last with death. Kaide twisted the dirk, then yanked it out. The blood splattered with greater ferocity, and when Arthur grabbed his brother it splashed across the front of his shirt.

Soldiers reached for him, pinning his arms and tackling his legs. Kaide gave into them willingly. They forced him to his hands and knees as Kevin drew his sword and pressed it against his neck.

“Let me have the honor,” Kevin said.

“Do it,” Kaide said, “and all of you will die.”

The blade at his neck tensed, and Kaide closed his eyes, waiting.

“Wait,” Arthur said. “If any man will kill him, it shall be me.”

The blade vanished, and then a hand grabbed Kaide by the hair and pulled up to expose his throat. He looked into Arthur’s eyes, saw the sadness there. Was it for him, or his brother? Kaide didn’t care. He’d warned the man. There’d be no mercy, not from him.

“Not brave enough to take your brother’s life, but you’ll take mine?” Kaide said. “Of course. Who would weep for the loss of a vagabond rebel without a home? Oh wait, I think I know.”

As if on cue a soldier barged into the tent. He stopped, stunned by the sight before him.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, barely containing his anger.

“There’s fires spreading along the eastern camp,” the soldier said. “The people are chanting for Sebastian’s head.”

“So many men pledged to me,” Kaide said, their attention turning back to him. “How do you think they’ll react when it’s my head you present to them instead of Sebastian’s? You might win, Arthur, but you’ll have a riot on your hands. Hundreds will perish. In the chaos of a riot, anything can happen. Anyone can die…”

Arthur stood there breathing heavily, his hands shaking with rage. He put his sword below Kaide’s neck, using it to lift his head higher so they might stare eye to eye.

“I once counted you as a friend,” he said. “No longer.”

Arthur turned to Kevin, and he handed him his sword.

“Take the head,” he said. “Use it to quell the riots. Sebastian died by my order, do you understand?”

“I do,” Kevin said, kneeling down to begin the grisly work. Kaide watched, thoroughly satisfied with the sight of that skinny, pompous asshole having his neck chopped apart, his stiff face lifted into the air by the hair. Better than he ever thought possible. Jerico had filled his head with unreasonable ideals. Mercy? Forgiveness? Better the cold corpse and a severed head.

Arthur put away his sword and knelt before him. Reaching out, he grabbed Kaide’s right hand and took one of his fingers. He said nothing, only wrenched it back until it was out of place. He moved onto the next finger, and the next. Kaide felt his fury rise, not because of the terrible pain, but because the pain ruined his pleasure of watching Sebastian’s body mutilated. Somehow, he knew Arthur also realized it, and again and again his fingers were wrenched and twisted, until his hand was a horrible mess of bruises and swelling flesh.

“Look at me,” Arthur said, grabbing Kaide’s face with his hand. Kaide struggled to focus through the pain. “Look at me, you bastard. Sebastian tried to escape, and when he did, he broke your hand. It is then I ordered his death, and it was my sword that took his life. That is the story you’ll tell, no matter how drunk you get around the midnight fire. If you ever say otherwise, to any man or woman, I’ll have you executed for treason. Have I made myself clear?”