• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“You really think Jacob would have let me walk away?”

“I don’t know, but you didn’t make the offer. It didn’t even occur to you to make the offer, did it?”

He looked away, then back, and his eyes held such sadness that I wanted to take it back, but I couldn’t. It was time we talked. It was like the old joke about the elephant in the living room. No one acknowledged it existed until the shit was so deep they couldn’t walk. Glancing down at Gregory, I knew the shit was too deep to ignore. We were out of options except for the truth, no matter how brutal.

“If I’d stepped down as Ulfric, even if Jacob had let me do it, it would still have been civil war. He’d have still executed those closest to me. It would have been deserting them. I’d rather die, than just walk away and leave them to be slaughtered.”

“If that’s how you really feel, Richard, then I’ve got a better plan. Make an example of Jacob and his followers.”

“It’s not that simple, Anita. Jacob’s got enough support that it might still be war.”

“Not if it’s bloody enough.”

“What are you saying?”

“Make them fear you, Richard. Make them fear you. Machiavelli said it nearly six hundred years ago, but it’s still true. Every ruler should strive for his people to love him. But if they cannot love you, then make them fear you. Love is better, but fear will do the job.”

He swallowed hard, and there was something close to fear in his eyes. “I think I could kill Jacob, and even execute one or two of his people, but you don’t think that’s enough, do you?”

“Depends on how you execute them.”

“What are you asking me to do, Anita?”

I sighed and stroked Gregory’s cheek. “I’m asking you to do what needs doing, Richard. If you want to hold this pack together and save hundreds of lives, then I’m telling you how you can do it with the minimum amount of bloodshed.”

“I can kill Jacob, but I can’t do what you’re asking. I can’t do something so terrible that the entire pack would fear me.” He looked at me, and there was a wildness, a panic in his face, like a trapped thing that finally realizes there is no escape.

I could feel my face grow calm, and I felt myself sinking into that place where there is nothing but white noise and the solid, almost comforting surety that I felt nothing. I said, softly, “I can.”

He turned away from me, as if I hadn’t spoken, and called up for them to lower the harness. We slid the harness around Gregory, talking only about the task at hand—no metaphysics, no politics. There was a second harness on the rope, and Richard made me put it on. I’d get to cradle Gregory, protecting him with my body so he didn’t get scraped up too badly.

“I’ve never done this before,” I said.

“I’m too broad through the shoulders to add Gregory’s bulk to mine. It has to be you. Besides, you’ll keep him safe, I know you will.” There was something in his eyes that made me want to say something, but he jerked on the rope and we started rising into the air.

Richard watched us, face upturned, his flashlight casting odd shadows around the small room as he knelt on the bones. Then we were up inside the tunnel, and I couldn’t see him anymore. I had my arms full, literally and figuratively, trying to keep Gregory from crashing into the walls. His arms and legs were still almost useless. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the long confinement or the drugs he’d been given, or both. Probably both.

Gregory kept saying “thank you, thank you, thank you” under his breath.

By the time we reached the top, there were tears drying on my cheeks. Regardless of what Richard decided, someone was going to pay.

Jacob was there, already bound in silver chains, carried like a piece of struggling luggage between three werewolves. They let him keep his cutoff shorts. No nudity for the good guys. I guess there has to be some differences, or how do you tell which side you’re on?

Cherry was already checking Gregory over. She had to keep chasing the other leopards back. They kept trying to touch him.

I stared across the clearing at Jacob.