And the front door swings open, banging on its hinges. Everyone spins. My mates draw their weapons in a flash as heavy boots pound on the rickety floorboards.
Brass-colored armor comes into view, glinting in the murky lantern light. I gasp, standing from the table, hands on my swords.
“Wait,” Rirth commands. He’s the only one who hasn’t spun in shock at the new arrivals.
Bronzemen shuffle in, filling the space with nearly a dozen of the bastards.
I twirl on Rirth, hissing and baring my teeth. “You betrayed us.”
“No.” Rirth stands. He nods his chin, and one of the Bronzes marches forward, dressed in full regalia with closed helmet, halberd, bulky cuirass, the whole uniform.
I’m utterly confused. Before this moment, Rirth was the hatedenemyof these lawmen, and so was I.
“I betrayedhim,” Rirth explains, nodding his chin to the long-haired man sitting before him.
All eyes fall on Vanison Shirin.
The silversmith’s mouth falls open and he leaps from his chair, knocking it down to the ground.
The lead Bronzeman pulls out a scroll and speaks in a muffled voice through the visor of his helmet. “Vanison Shirin,for acts against Nuhavians, and for selling illegal substances through the catacombs via illicit trading networks, you are hereby under arrest. Take him.”
Two soldiers shuffle over, their armor clanking and clattering absurdly as they surround Vanison. The man looks panicked, eyes darting like he’s going to make a run for it through a window. There are too many bodies in his way, no matter which way he looks.
Vanison glares at Rirth as Bronzemen pull his wrists behind his back. “How could you?” he rasps. “I’ve only everhelpedthe Silverknights!”
“Aye, and we thank you for your service,” Rirth says coldly. I have to agree, this turnabout is throwing me. Rirth just spoke about working with Vanison.
I realize in that moment how much my old friend has changed. Fear skitters across my nape.My mother was right. No one has reined him in.
“However,” Captain Rirth continues, “an agreement for your surrender and arrest was needed to quell the unrest between my people and the Bronzes. You’ve been an outlaw in Nuhav for nearly a decade, Vanison. You had a good run. Youhadto know only the gallows awaited you, yes? Whether today or next year, your life was forfeit the moment you first touched silver and started selling it to anyone with enough coin.”
“Silver hasfloodedthis city, you vagabond!” Vanison shouts, his face red, veins distending along his neck. The Bronzes begin to drag him away. “How are you any different?!”
Rirth claps Cullard on the shoulder, who looks just as confused and distraught as I am at this interruption. “We have the Truehearts on our side.”
“Sephania! Antones! Help me!” Vanison screeches. He struggles against his captors, flailing and failing.
I look back and see my mates shaking their heads.
I make no move to stop this from happening, even though it hurts to see. It feels cowardly. My plan was never to betray anyone coming here. Rirth cooked up some side schemes of his own.
Skartovius looks particularly vexed, yet doesn’t budge as the Bronzes push Vanison out of the stronghold, leaving just as quickly as they barged in.
Rirth plops down on his chair with a sigh once Vanison is gone. “The truth is, Vanison Shirin has become obsolete.” He gives me a crooked smile. “You just told us you can procure huge bags of silver.”
I gulp, nodding swiftly.
“Then it’s settled. The Bronzes are in unity with the Silverknights, just like you asked. They wanted a figurehead for the city’s rebellion, a scapegoat they can hang from the gallows to show they’re on the public’s side. They’ve found one.” The other side of his lips tilt, and he raises his hand, spreading his fingers wide. “Will that suffice for peacekeeping, Sephania?”
Chapter 37
Vallan
Silverknight Rirth has shown his true, treacherous colors. According to Sephania, the man has changed drastically since their time together as Grimsons. Lukain agrees, and he would know best.
That said, I understand Rirth’s strategy. Even if Sephania hates how it went down, and I saw the pain of betrayal in her eyes while Vanison was led away by the foolish Bronze guards, it’s a pragmatic move by the Silverknight captain.
In war, sacrifices must be made. I know that better than most. Lives are lost, people are exchanged like cattle, and even when it’s ugly, the ends justify the means. That’s the theory.