From Blood and Ash(45)

“Poppy,” he said. He said it in the same way he had when I asked if he thought I could hide a broadsword under my veil. I still believed I could. I just needed to position it right— “You don’t know him.”

“I know that.” I crossed my arms as Vikter backed off. “But you don’t know him either.”

“You don’t know what his motivations are—why he would keep quiet.”

I knew what he’d said about the Red Pearl, and I was sure it also applied to the Rise. But it was more than that. The fact that Hawke was willing to risk being charged with high treason to help those who’d been cursed spoke volumes about who he was as a person. It didn’t feel right sharing that with Vikter, though. There was a reason we didn’t know the identities of others in the network.

So, I went with, “He said that if he had, he knew I wouldn’t trust him, which would make his job harder. You have to admit, he has a point.”

“He does, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be careful.” Vikter fell silent for a moment. “And I understand. I do.”

“Understand what?”

“Like I said before, he’s an attractive young man—”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“And you’ve been surrounded by old men like me.”

“You’re not all that old.”

He blinked. “Thanks.” A pause. “I think.”

“It has nothing to do with how he looks. I’m not saying that I don’t think he’s attractive. I do, but that’s not why I trust him.” And that was the truth. My faith didn’t stem from what he looked like. “I’m not that foolish.”

“I’m not suggesting you are.” He thrust a hand through his hair. “So, you trust him?”

“I…I told him why I needed to be out on that Rise. I told him about the night my family was attacked. You know how he responded? Even though he said at first that I shouldn’t be out there, he listened to my reasons, and the only thing he said was that I needed to wear better shoes.” I figured I’d keep the part about my gown to myself. “I trust him, Vikter. Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

Vikter sighed heavily as he looked away. “He hasn’t given us any reason to doubt him. I know that. It’s just that we don’t know him, and you’re important to me, Poppy. Not because you’re the Maiden, but because you’re…you.”

A knot of emotion formed in my chest and fought its way up my throat. I didn’t give him a chance to realize what I was doing. I launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. “Thank you,” I murmured against his chest.

Vikter was as stiff as a guard on the Rise for their very first time, but then he put his hands on my back. And patted me.

I grinned.

“You know I’ll never replace your father, nor would I ever try to, but you’re like a daughter to me.”

I hugged him tighter.

He patted me again. “I worry about you. Partly because it’s my job, but mostly because it’s you.”

“You’re important to me, too.” My words were muffled against his chest. “Even though you think my punches are weak.”

His chuckle was rough as he dropped his chin to the top of my head. “Your punches are weak when you’re not doing them correctly.” He pulled back, clasping my cheeks. “But, girl, your aim is deadly. Don’t ever forget that.”





“The gods have not failed us. The Ascended have not failed you.” The Duke’s voice carried from where he stood on the balcony of the castle wall that evening. Below him, a mass of people filled the open yard, and under the glow of oil lamps and torches, I could see several wore all black, the somber color of death. Among them were guards astride horses, keeping an eye on the nervous crowd.

I’d never known His Grace to address the people like this. He and the Duchess were never in front of so many, not even during the Councils or the Rite. I couldn’t have been more surprised when both Vikter and Hawke arrived after supper to escort me to the balcony.

Then again, how many years had it been since such a significant movement of Craven reached the Rise?

Black flags had been raised over too many homes, and too many funeral pyres had been lit at dawn. The air was still choked with ash and incense.

“Because of the gods’ Blessing,” Teerman continued, “the Rise did not fall last night.”

Standing back, next to Tawny, and flanked by Vikter and Hawke, I wondered exactly how the gods’ Blessing had kept the wall from falling. It had been the guards, men like the archer, who had chosen death over allowing the Craven to come over the top.

“They reached the top!” a man shouted. “They almost made it over the Rise. Are we safe?”

“When it happens again?” the Duchess answered, her soft voice silencing the murmurs. “Because it will happen again.”

Behind the veil, my brows lifted. Over my right shoulder, I heard Hawke murmur dryly, “That will surely ease fears.”

My lips twitched.

“The truth is not designed to ease fears,” Vikter responded.

“Is that why we tell lies, then?” Hawke questioned, and I pressed my lips together.

Ever since they’d arrived to escort Tawny and me, they had been doing this. One of them would say something. Anything. The other would disagree, only for the one who’d spoken first to have the last word. It started with Hawke commenting that it was surprisingly warm this evening and that I should enjoy it, to which Vikter had followed up by stating that the temperatures would surely drop too rapidly for that. Hawke had proceeded to ask Vikter where he’d gained such prophetic knowledge of the weather.

In the span of an hour, it had only progressed from there as they attempted to out-snark each other.

Hawke was winning, by at least three comebacks.

Even after I had defended him to Vikter—and I hadn’t been lying when I told him that I trusted Hawke—there was still a small part of me that couldn’t believe what he’d said. He hadn’t told me never to go on the Rise again. He hadn’t demanded that I stay in my room, where it was theoretically safer. Instead, he’d listened to my reasons for why I needed to be out there and accepted them, only asking that I wear more suitable shoes.

And additional clothing.

The latter annoyed and excited me, which was altogether confusing. And was definitely not something that I’d shared with Vikter that morning.

My gaze slid to the Duchess as she stepped forward. “The gods didn’t fail you,” she repeated, placing her hands on the waist-high railing beside her husband. “We didn’t fail you. But the gods are unhappy. That is why the Craven reached the top of the Rise.”

A murmur of dismay swept through the crowd like a rainstorm.

“We have spoken to them. They are not pleased with recent events, here and in nearby cities,” she said, scanning the paling and graying faces below. “They fear that the good people of Solis have begun to lose faith in their decisions and are turning to those who wish to see the future of this great kingdom compromised.”

The whispers turned to outright cries of denouncement, startling the horses. The guardsmen quickly calmed the equines’ nervous prancing.

“What did you all think would happen when those who support the Dark One and plot with him are standing among you right now?” the Duke asked. “As I speak, at this very moment, Descenters stare back at me, thrilled that the Craven took so many lives last night. In this very crowd, there are Descenters who pray for the day that the Dark One comes. Those who celebrated the massacre of Three Rivers and the fall of Goldcrest Manor. Look to your left and to your right, and you may see someone who helped conspire to abduct the Maiden.”

I shifted uncomfortably as dozens and dozens of gazes landed on me. Then, one by one, as if the faces were dominos stacked side by side, they looked to each other as if seeing neighbors and familiar faces for the first time.

“The gods hear and know all. Even what’s not spoken but resides in the heart,” the Duke said, and my stomach twisted with unease. “What can any of us expect?” he repeated. “When those the gods have done all to protect, come before us, questioning the Rite?”

I tensed. Immediately, the image of Mr. and Mrs. Tulis formed in my mind. He hadn’t said their names, but he might as well have screamed them from the top of Castle Teerman. I didn’t see them in the crowd, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

“What can anyone expect when there are those who wish to see us dead?” Teerman asked, raising his hands. “When we are the gods given form and the only thing that stands between you and the Dark One and the curse his people have cast upon this land.”

And yet, not a single Ascended—not the Duke or Duchess or any of the Lords or Ladies—had raised one hand to defend the Rise. All of them were faster and stronger than any guard. I imagined they could’ve taken down double the amount of Craven I had with a bow, and just like Hawke had said, they had a higher likelihood of surviving an attack.

“What do you think would’ve happened if the Craven had crested the Rise?” Teerman lowered his hands. “Many of you were born within these walls and have never experienced the horror of a Craven attack. Some of you know, though. You come from cities less guarded or were attacked on the roads. You know what would’ve happened if only a handful made it past our guards—if the gods had turned their backs on the people of Solis. It would’ve been the wholesale slaughter of hundreds. Your wives. Your children. Yourselves. Many of you would not be standing here.” He paused, and the crowd swelled—