Chapter 68: In three days
"How hard is it to find the bastard harboring him? Alpha Kieran slammed both hands to the table, sending the documents flying off it.
It has been three days and they were yet to catch the rogue king or even the traitor who was working for him.
"Maybe we have it all wrong, Kieran." Soren leaned back in his chair. "What if he wants us to think he is here and make us doubt each other?"
Alpha Kieran considered this.
It was something that he would think to do if he wanted to throw his enemy off too. Misdirection and chaos. Let the enemy exhaust themselves chasing ghosts while he moved pieces they could not see.
"What does he want?" Kieran huffed. "We have been at this game of war for the longest. It is tiring. He has refused every bit and form of negotiation from us. Hell, no one knows what he even looks like but everyday we suffer attacks from him."
Soren lowered his eyes.
"I do not know what he wants" He muttered.
He wished he did.
Asides the fact that he knew that the rogue king wanted something in the archives room, he knew nothing of what it was they wanted or why he kept attacking them. What was so important that it warranted years of bloodshed? What could possibly be hidden in those dusty old scrolls that was worth this much death?
They had lost good men to the battle against him. Good fathers, good sons, good husbands. And they were still losing good and innocent people every day, while he, Soren, worked for the very man responsible for all of it and for what?
To save your head, he reminded himself.
If Kieran knew what secrets he held, he would kill him without a second thought.
"I went into the archives room as we discussed earlier yesterday." Soren changed the subject, steering the conversation away from dangerous waters.
Alpha Kieran nodded, stopping his pacing to face him.
Soren had asked for access to the room days ago, and Kieran had granted it without question. They needed something more than ordinary swords and arrows and wolf power to defeat the rogue king. They needed an edge, a weapon, something that would tip the scales in their favor.
Ares had come back from the borders with information about a witch. She was responsible for the strength the rogue king’s army possessed. Dark magic, bound into the blood of his soldiers, making them faster and stronger and more vicious than any natural wolf had a right to be.
Ares was sure that if they attacked the pack head-on right now, they would be defeated. The rogue king’s forces were too strong, too augmented by whatever dark rituals the witch had performed.
So why was he not attacking them?
"He is toying with us." Alpha Kieran muttered.
"What?"
"The rogue king is toying with us." He spat again. "He attacks and then retreats. He is inflicting fear in my people. Just the other day, I heard some families in the outskirts close to the borders have all packed up and left. They will rather be without a pack than be the next set of people set upon by him."
Fear, Soren thought. That made sense.
Fear was a weapon sharper than any blade. The rogue king was using fear to dismantle them from the inside, to make them doubt their Alpha, to make them question whether their pack was worth dying for.
And Soren realized with a sickening clarity that the rogue king was using his own fear against him too. His fear of being branded a traitor, of losing his head. His fear of everything he had built crumbling around him.
Alpha Kieran ran a hand over his face.
"The people are scared, Soren. I can feel it every time I walk through the village. They look at me and I see the question in their eyes. Can you protect us? Can you keep us safe? And I do not have an answer for them."
Soren watched his friend, his Alpha, and saw the weight he carried pressing down on his shoulders.
"I need to reassure them," Kieran continued. "I need to show them that I have everything under control, or there will be conflict. And soon we will be like the Godswood pack whose Alpha was beheaded for what they claimed was his nonchalant behavior toward their plight."
Soren remembered hearing about that. A pack that had torn itself apart from the inside because the people lost faith in their leader. They had dragged their Alpha from his own home and executed him in the town square.
"A banquet," Soren said.
Alpha Kieran looked at him, his brow furrowing.
"A banquet," Soren repeated. "We have not had one of those in a while. Let us have a banquet where the people can eat, drink, and be merry for a while. Let them remember what it feels like to be happy and to be safe."
Alpha Kieran was quiet for a long moment, his eyes distant.
"Your father always did throw one of those in the past, remember?" Soren pressed gently. "And it was always one of the happiest moments."
A ghost of a smile flickered across Alpha Kieran’s face.
"It was where I met Isolde."
"Where we met her," Soren corrected softly.
Alpha Kieran looked at him and something unreadable passing through his gaze. He nodded slowly.
"I never did thank you for letting me have her."
The words caught Soren off guard.
"There is nothing to be thankful for, Kieran. She wanted you as much as you did her."
Alpha Kieran shook his head. "No. She wanted to be Luna because I was going to be Alpha. I believe she loved you first."
Soren smiled.
"It does not matter now, does it?" He said.
Alpha Kieran met his eyes.
"No," he said quietly. "No, it does not."
There was silence for a while before Alpha Kieran straightened his shoulders.
"The banquet sounds perfect. Have it announced, and let us begin preparations."
Soren rose from his chair, inclined his head in a bow then he turned and walked out of the room.
...
Soren froze in his tracks as his eyes happened on Alistair in the stable yard, tending to a horse.
"What are you doing?" he asked as he approached him.
"What do you mean?"
Soren stepped closer, lowering his voice until it was barely above a whisper. "You are supposed to be looking for your king. Have you forgotten that?"
"No, I have not forgotten and I did find him."
"You found him?" Soren could not keep the disbelief from his voice. "In just a matter of days?"
"I found him. He is back at the borders. You have nothing to worry about."
Soren stared at him.
"Where did you find him? Where was he hiding?"
"Does it matter? The most important thing is that he is no longer here."
Soren studied Alistair, then looked at the horse he was stroking.
"Aren’t you supposed to be in the healing chambers? Why are you now tending to a horse?"
"I quit. I much prefer tending to horses than people."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, Soren."
Soren’s jaw tightened. Something about this did not sit right with him but he could not afford to question it now.
"I have access to the archives now." Soren kept his voice low. "There will be a banquet in three days. You will have ample time to go to the archives room and get what you need. And then you will be gone."
Alistair was about to speak, but Soren cut him off.
"No." He said. "You will be gone in three days when you have what you need. And this..." He gestured between them. "Whatever this is between us will be over."
He did not wait for a response before he walked out of the stable yard.