18. No Enemies, No Peace

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"Oh, I see you're back to walking again," the duke said. "Aethelu told me you were suffering of a fever and were not to be seen."

     Firmin bowed. "Your Grace." He glanced around the dinner table. Enough hiding away. He found Aethelu, but she didn't even glance his way. Strange.

     "I've sent Carson, along with several of my men, to greet the prince," said the duke.

     Yes, Firmin had nearly stumbled into those men. They would know soon. But not about him.

     "Well, I'm glad to be back," said Firmin. "Do let me know of anything I may have missed."

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"This had better not take long. I am busy!" Aethelu practically led Firmin to the corridor he'd suggested they'd meet.

      "Well?" She spun around and faced him in the poorly lit hallway. "Is it the blood grass? If not, do know I have no interest."

     He sighed. "No, I haven't found the blood grass."

     "Then"—she turned.

     "Why did you say I was sick?" Firmin reached out and grabbed her arm.

     She huffed but would not turn to look at him. "Do you really want to ask me this? Note that if you do, I will merely think over it and I may regret it more than I already do."

     "Yeah, I do."

     "I thought you were finding me the blood grass. Favor for favor, you know. But I overestimate people. Especially you."

     "Aethelu, I—"

     "No, I don't care—I don't want to know what you were doing."

     "But you won't tell the duke?"

     She looked him in the eyes, put his hand off her arm like it was a disgusting snail. "See you later, Firmin."

     Firmin sighed.

     Shouts and clamor arose.

     "What is it?" Duke Buhemonte.

     "Your Grace. The prince is dead!"

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"It was ghastly. Not one man, bandit or prisoner, stood alive. The entire outpost was filled with dead bodies." Carson turned his gaze to Firmin. "But hardly a single one of them carried a drop of blood."

     "The white shadow is becoming quite bold," said Firmin, not wavering under the stare of his lord.

     "Clearly," said Carson. "But she was not alone."

     "What is this you say?" the duke demanded. "What do you mean, 'not alone'? Was there someone else there?"

     "When I said hardly a single one of them carried blood I meant that several men, three, I believe, were quite obviously killed in a fight."

     "Elaborate."     

     "One of the lookouts has been stabbed in the gut. One had his throat slit. We found a bloody mess of what used to be a man smashed upon the rocky ground below the tower. Another we found trying to run. He just said a cloaked man was cutting loose the horses. The shadow has a friend."

     "And just the two of them took down an entire camp of vicious bandits that captured the prince!" The duke was angry.

     There was silence all around.

      "Maybe it's more than two," Firmin said. "It would be foolish to assume or not at least consider the possibility of it being more. Besides, of course, the fact that it would make more sense."

     He felt like he was backing himself into a corner, and so stopped talking at all. Only Tris was steadily nodding in agreement.

     "It is clear now," the duke said. "We cannot wait around anymore, but neither shall we send our men out needlessly. This is a force we do not understand. Commander, how much more until you do something?"

     "I just barely recovered," said Firmin, looking for excuses. His stomach twisted. "But what can I do if I cannot locate her? She may not be able to kill me, but what does that even mean? I think she will, if anything, avoid me much more. If I have learned anything from the little time I've spent with her, it is that she is afraid of death."

     "Then we will hunt her down," said the duke. "It is obvious it takes more than an army to take her on. But those men, like us, knew not what they were fighting."

     "But they were also unprepared," said Carson.

     "Yes, but what will preparation even help us?"

     Carson leaned over the table, making eye contact with Firmin. "We have shadow killer. And last I checked, it nearly destroyed her. So that she immediately went to Firmin for life. But what if she will have no one to turn to?"

     "What are you talking about?"

     "Your Grace, Firmin may be the only one to completely end her, but we need to capture her first. Outwit her, outnumber, her. Conquer her. We need to wage war upon her. With all our manpower."

     "Are you out of your mind?"

     "We have no choice. With shadow killer, she shall not really be able to harm us. And though none but Firmin can really kill her, we can, and by Gethin's mace, we shall harm her."

     "Our weapons, our armor," said Tris, "shall be coated with shadow killer. She won't even get close!"

     "Do you even hear yourselves?" said the duke. "This idea is folly. We cannot kill her. How will our commander even get within stabbing range of her if we roam the entire dukedom?"

     "By doing so, we lock her in a cage," said Carson.

     "No," said the duke. "We simply cannot afford to send our army on a chase like that. But we can equip our scouts, our hunters with shadow killer, so that they may not be harmed. Now, we need to discuss the problems concerning the prince. The king shall see it as my fault, as he's been killed in my dukedom."

     "Not at all true, Your Grace," said Firmin. "Aurghau does not belong to your lands. Yes, you have been fighting with those rebels for so very long, but you have never yet claimed it. Use that. Say he never reached your lands."

     "But he will believe my land to be cursed by the shadow. This will not bide well." He started pacing. "This is not any king, after all, but the powerful Frid of The Shattered Lands."

     "Then he must never know it was the shadow. We might not either. The prince was captured and killed by these bandits before he ever reached your lands. No need to mention the shadow at all."

     The duke gave him a lingering glare. "Very impressive, Commander."

     "He is just using this, Your Grace, to cover for his mistake." Carson. Of course. "His mistake of not capturing his murderous lover!"

     "At this moment, it hardly matters," said the duke. "We must work together. Saying he never reached my lands will not cause the king to lose his trust in me and perhaps he will focus more on the troubles of Aurghau. Finalize who those lands belong to and stop any more rebellions. He will not think of the shadow. He will not take my head for still harboring the one man that can, yet hasn't, killed her. For while the prince rode to our lands, the bandits intercepted."

     That was all Firmin ever needed. A common enemy for Reina and the rest of the people to fight.

     But the bandits had been conquered. What could keep the peace now?

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