Garious leaned his armored frame against one of the many pillars leading into the throne room, watching the lads with titles go to kneel at the Light Warden’s feet. Three peacocks forced to hide their feathers in front of their better. Bloodsoaked finery from a night of murder and betrayal seemed an appropriate fit for their kind.

Garious spat on the intricately woven carpet leading up to the throne.

He should be out with his boys, cleaning up what was left of the resistance in the palace and securing their way out, but he’d been commanded to attend. Fool thing to order your captains in before the job was done. Just left more gaps for the enemy to flee. Made their job all the more difficult when the army of Pothium eventually rallied, which they would, seeing as these fools failed their task.

Garious watched them kneel, eyes focused on the ground as the Light Warden, Ektos, frowned down at them from the deposed King of Pothium’s throne. Garious didn’t feel much sympathy. He’d told them it was a shit plan after all. Cowardly idea to kill the Pothium royal family under a banner of peace. Not only had it dragged Queen Ruslana’s name through the mire and muck, but there were consequences to a failed overthrow. Without wiping out the entire nobel family, the Heavite Nation couldn’t control the narrative. After today, few would openly ally themselves to a people that held no regard for treaties.

With Princess Kassandra escaped, the armies of Pothium would be called to rally around their new queen. If she was any kind of ruler, she’d have the resources of her allies at her disposal. Not to mention whatever power she’d tapped into.

He’d seen the aftermath. Bodies littering the floor, even the bloody ceiling for that matter. Fifty men dead and that section of the palace brought to ruin. None of his own boys, thank the Allmother.

Everyone had heard rumors of a heresy within the Pothium Court, but he’d put it down to wartime propaganda. Now, he wasn’t so certain.

Queen Kassandra was bound to come back for her throne and bloody days would follow.

Of course this little band of theirs didn’t have the strength to hold against much more than a strong wind. Surprise and chaos were their only allies at the moment. They’d have to quit the city before too long, lest the population realize just how few they were and rise up against them. Several groups were sent into the city to start fires and distract from the palace, but time was running out.

Garious would have liked to have already been on the march back home, if not for the prick measuring he had to witness. Damn bloody Wardens. They weren’t the type to think things from a tactical level. All justice, authority, and bloody purging.

On the bright side, he quite enjoyed watching the lordlings squirm. Pious sods with a chip on their shoulder until they ran into someone with more clout. Having come from a poor farmer’s family with too many mouths to feed, Garious didn’t mind watching them shake as they waited for the Allmother’s Chosen to reign judgement on them.

“You promised a swift victory,” intoned Ektos, his smooth voice echoing throughout the hall. “How is it that one of the heretics was allowed to live?”

None of the three lords spoke and the Light Warden’s face softened, his voice calm and understanding.

“Perhaps I’m asking the wrong question,” Ektos began.

Garious felt his skin prickle.

Wasn’t natural how they did that. Switch on a dime without even batting an eye. He knew what was coming, he’d seen it plenty of times. A little honey to a starving man. Enough to get him to talk, but meaningless in the long run. Someone here was going to be sent to the gallows, it was just a matter of blame.

“All events cannot be foreseen. Variables arise where they weren’t expected, mistakes are made. Where did your plan go awry?”

“It was Tiberius’ fault,” cried Lord Joben, jowls quivering. “He was supposed to keep the girl at his side, but he couldn’t hold her attention long enough.”

Lord Tiberius sat up, finger pointed at his accuser, “If Joben hadn’t lost his nerve and called the signal early I wouldn’t have!”

The two began to argue, while the man between them, Lord Rupert, remained motionless, face pressed to the ground. Sod was smart enough that he might keep his head.

The Light Warden watched on, a sympathetic frown on his face as he listened to the two plead their cases. As their argument reached new heights, voices breaking with indignation and fear, Ektos raised his hand and the argument ceased. The extra skin around Lord Joben’s face trembled as he struggled to control his breathing while he awaited the Warden’s judgement. Tiberius became terribly still.

Ektos gave them both a sympathetic smile, “My lords, peace. These situations occur from time to time.”

Joben let out a relieved breath, but not Tiberius. The lord’s hand eased down to the blood crusted dagger belted at his hip.

“In cases such as this, a trial by combat is required to prove who speaks true.”

Garious watched the smile creep across Ektos’ face and was reminded of just how aggressive the Allmother’s Chosen seemed to be. He wasn’t big on church going, but he’d been to enough ceremonies that it seemed a contrast to the scriptures. Ever since Queen Ruslana returned from her pilgrimage, proclaiming herself anointed by the Allmother, her actions had been anything but divine.

Regardless, he’d seen what the Queen’s Wardens could do in combat. Normal men elevated to something more… If that wasn’t divine, then Garious wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was.

“Combat, blessed Warden?” Joben muttered.

Ektos’ smile grew wider as Tiberius drew the dagger at his hip and swiped the blade across Lord Joben’s neck. Arterial blood spurted out as the bigger lord frantically tried to stave off the crimson flow.

Garious felt his blood run hot at the prospect of violence, hand curling around the haft of the warhammer looped at his hip. Didn’t matter that he wasn’t part of it. Death was in the air and, as it always did, it put him on edge.

The Light Warden watched Lord Joben writhe on the ground for a moment, his smile never faltering. Tiberius watched as well, face pale, a disgusted grimace on his face. Garious had known them to be longtime companions. If ever there was a feast to be had, Joben and Tiberius were always side by side.

When it came to judgement, even the highest in society proved to be no better than the animals of the wild.

Ektos rose from the throne and covered the distance between himself and Lord Tiberius in a burst of unnatural speed. The dagger in the lord’s hand fell away as he looked down at the blade in his chest. The Light Warden lifted Tiberius off his feet, looking at the squirming lord on his sword as if he were little more than a curiosity, eyes glowing with the power bestowed upon him.

“I said combat,” Ektos told the dying man as he slowly slide down to the hilt of the Warden’s sword, “not murder.”

The lord opened his mouth to say something, perhaps to scream. Either would be hard to do with that much steel through his diaphragm. Ektos held the lord for a moment, as though he weighed little more than the blade itself, before flinging him off to the side.

The remaining lord seemed to sink as far as he could to the floor as Ektos casually walked up behind the prostrated lord, placing his sword at the base of his neck.

“You’ll be hard pressed explaining why you killed two lords already. Finish off the third and not even the queen will keep you from swinging,” Garious said, walking toward the scene of violence.

Much as he enjoyed watching lordlings squirm, murdering them didn’t serve the queen’s purpose any more than the failed assassination had. Despite the recent changes, he was a Named Man of the queen. Garious didn’t mind killing when it needed to be done. He’d been around violent men most of his life and knew how some took to it more than others, but this was something else. He didn’t like the way Ektos kept smiling. It had little to do with punishment and bore all the earmarks of pleasure.

“You’re here to observe what happens to those who fail Line Breaker, nothing more,” Ektos said, voice calm.

Garious casually pulled the warhammer from the loop at his hip, “Well, you see I’ve a problem with the way you think. Since I’m the only bloody fool that managed to hold up his end of this shit show you’ve orchestrated, I’d say I should be the one passing judgement, yeah?”

The glow returned to Ektos’ eyes, the smile slipping, “You would dare criticize the Chosen of the Allmother?”

Garious shouldered his hammer to appear relaxed, but shifted his feet. He wasn’t sure he could take something like a Light Warden, but he wouldn’t bloody well go down like the other two.

Garious shrugged, “I’m a queen’s man first and foremost. A Named Man at that,” he said, putting emphasis on his title. “I’ll not see anyone, lord or Chosen, hinder her goals anymore they they already have. You can take your thin skinned piety up with her when we get back.”

Ektos tensed, muscles taut, a mountain lion before the pounce. Garious gradually shifted his hand up the haft of his warhammer, ready to move at the first hint of violence. Not the best weapon to have off of horseback, but he’d expected to be on the road, not facing down a Light Warden. The rational part of his mind told him to shut his mouth, it screamed that this was no man he was antagonizing, but a warrior blessed by the Allmother. What hope did he have against him?

And still… He hadn’t earned his Name being cowed by hopeless situations.

“Unless you’d like to settle our dispute here and now?” Garious offered.

The Light Warden’s eyes were molten orbs before they faded. Ektos relaxed and sheathed his sword, smile returned. He knelt down, placing a finger under Rupert’s chin so that he could look at him, then back to Garious.

“Tell me, queen’s man, what will happen to her reputation if this one decides to speak against her. What’s stopping him from retelling all this to his peers?”

“I wouldn’t,” the lord said with a sob, words coming out in a torrent of proclamations, “I’ll not say a word. I swear on the Allmother, on my family. I’ll say they died at the banquet, that we were betrayed, that is all.”

The Light Warden fixed his eyes on Garious.

“You heard him,” he said, not breaking his eyes from Ektos.

“Very well,” the Light Warden said, letting his finger slip away from beneath the man’s chin. “Gather up your men. We will march before dawn.”

He watched the Light Warden stride away, his footsteps echoing through the throne room until he was out of sight. Garious felt the fire in his blood fade, the lack of a release making him feel nauseous. He hadn’t felt fear like that for some time and couldn’t decide if he felt relieved or disappointed.

“Get up,” he told the remaining lord.

The man stood, revealing bloodshot eyes, soiled breeches, and loose snot. Lord Rupert had been one of the biggest advocates for this plan, meeting anyone who spoke against it with pompous disdain. Of course, most of it had been directed at Garious, as his voice was one of the few that opposed the assassination. Garious didn’t feel the need to say anything. No point in rubbing salt in the wound of a man that had just pissed himself.

“Best get moving,” he said.

Lord Rupert nodded slowly, still trying to gather his bearings after his brush with death. Garious ignored him for the most part, leading him out of the throne room. Bodies littered the halls; guards, servants, a number of their own. The haze of smoke meant someone had started a fire somewhere in the palace. A scream drifted through the now empty halls, the occasional clash of steel could be heard even further off.

“What have we become,” muttered Rupert as he pulled up alongside Garious.

“Same as we’ve always been,” Garious said, trying not to look at the unarmed bodies littering the hallway. “Some men don’t realize what they really are until things go to shit.”

Garious looked the blood and piss covered Lord Rupert over before fixing him in the eye. The lord quickly turned away.

This bit of bad business hadn’t been his boys, Garious told himself. He’d made sure they wouldn’t be involved in the Banquet Hall. Killing was fair game if you signed up for the fight, but he’d taken rearguard position for a reason. When blood was up, it got hard to tell who was and wasn’t trying to kill you. He had enough on his conscious without adding innocent lives to it.

Exiting out a side door leading along the palace ramparts, Garious glanced out over the city, seeing the bits of flames dying down. In the distance, he spotted a flash of pale light shortly followed by a chorus of screams. The new Pothium Queen wasn’t wasting her time. It was a wonder she hadn’t returned to the palace to finish them off, but then, who knew what she’d embraced to gain such power.

Garious glanced at the side of the palace that was little more than a pile of rubble. Open rooms and hallways, once concealed by stone, exposed to the world like severed arteries. He didn’t cherish the idea of facing something that could do that. They needed to get out soon.

Garious began to pick up his pace when he realized Lord Rupert wasn’t following. The man was staring over the city.

“Let’s go,” Garious told him.

“We should leave,” Rupert said, finally looking Garious in the eye.

“That’s what we’re doing,” Garious said.The lord shook his head, showing no signs of moving.

“These Light Wardens aren’t right, there’s something terrible about them. Something wrong. You’ve seen it. How could men so cruel be Chosen by the Allmother? And the Queen… she’s changed. Whatever she found on her pilgrimage, it wasn’t of the Allmother.”

Garious stopped cold as the words hit him.

“You know I’m right Garious. We’ve not seen eye to eye in the past, but you’re no fool. She’s not the same woman that gave you your Name. She’s become something else.”

Rupert spoke true. Something had changed and Garious wasn’t sure it was for the good. He stood beside the lord, watching the turmoil in the city below.

“Aye, there’s something to be said about that,” he said.

Grabbing the lord by the shirt and pants, Garious tossed him over the ramparts. Rupert managed a high pitched scream before the ground cut him off.

“But it’s like I told that asshole Ektos.” Garious told the dead man, “I’m a queen’s man.”

When he reached the stables, Garious found his lads waiting along with half of the men they’d snuck in. Casualties had been high.

Ektos watched him approach, the Light Warden sitting high in the saddle. Garious could see a faint smile tug at the side of his mouth.

“Where’s Lord Rupert?”

Garious felt the urge to knock that smile off his face, but kept his hand away from the warhammer.

“He fell,” he said, hoisting himself into his own awaiting mount.

The Light Warden watched him, but Garious didn’t give him the opportunity to gloat as he heeled his mount into motion. Garious put distance between himself and the debacle he’d left behind, the words of the dead lord ringing in his mind.

She’s not the same woman that gave you your Name. She’s something else.