Free Web NovelChapter 146: Chapter 146
"From what the scouts reported, they are not expecting an attack. A well-timed ambush would greatly weaken their forces and disrupt their supply lines."
Ragnar avoided telling his father about Jayran’s letter, choosing to keep it to himself for now.
King Zeriel leaned back, tapping the armrest of his chair with the tip of a finger, as if measuring the weight of each word. A slow satisfied smile curved his lips.
"You have always had an eye for strategy," the king said at last, his tone tinged with something close to pride. "You were like this even as a boy and it has served you well."
He gestured vaguely toward the stack of parchments on the table between them. "I’ve seen your victories, Ragnar. None among your brothers or even my most seasoned generals could handle this better. If these reports are accurate, you’ll have full command of the operation."
He set the documents down with a soft thud and steepled his fingers together.
" I want you to round up as many of them as possible. I need the rebel leaders captured alive and brought to the capital. They will stand trial before the people and afterwards their punishment and their executions will serve as a reminder of what happens to those who defy the crown."
Ragnar gave a curt nod, unsurprised. He had witnessed this pattern many times before. It was his father’s brand of justice, which relied not on fairness, but on spectacles and the fear it inflicted on people. It kept the people obedient, and loyal.
It was the same thing he did in Westeria after their king refused to comply with the terms offered to him.
"And what of those who resist capture or try to flee?" Ragnar asked, though deep down he already knew what his father would say.
"Kill them," Zeriel replied without hesitation. "Make an example of anyone who dares to run after you’ve given the order to surrender. Let their bodies serve as warning to others who might be tempted to escape."
A brief silence fell between them. A muscle twitched in Ragnar’s jaw, and the corners of his eyes tightened imperceptibly. But he inclined his head all the same. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
King Zeriel’s gaze lingered on him, sharp and assessing, as if he was measuring the weight of Ragnar’s loyalty.
"You’ve done well," he said after a moment. "Once again, you’ve proven that my trust in you is not misplaced."
Ragnar accepted the words with a shallow bow, though inwardly he felt the faint sting of unease.
His father’s approval was like a blade with double edges. One was meant to elevate him, while the other was meant to cut him down the moment he faltered.
As the king turned his attention back to the parchments, Ragnar seized the pause to speak again.
"Your Majesty," he began carefully, keeping his tone respectful, "I ask that what we’ve discussed here remain between us, at least until the mission is complete and the rebels have been apprehended. The fewer who know, the less chance there is of word reaching the enemy."
Zeriel looked up, one brow arching slightly. "You believe there might be someone leaking information within the court?" he asked, his tone deceptively mild.
Ragnar held his father’s gaze.
"It’s not about what I believe," he replied evenly. "It’s about ensuring that word of the ambush doesn’t return to the rebels. We’ve both seen how cunning they can be. They’ve avoided capture before by being one step ahead of our movements. I won’t risk that again."
The king regarded him for several moments, his expression unreadable.
Finally, he gave a slow nod. "A fair point," he said simply.
But just when Ragnar thought the matter was settled, Zeriel leaned forward, his gaze narrowing.
"Tell me, Ragnar," he said softly, almost coaxing, "do you suspect someone within these walls of aiding them?"
The question hung in the air like a blade suspended by a thread.
Most men would have missed the subtle shift in the king’s tone. This was not a simple question. It was a trap disguised as curiosity behind Zeriel’s calm voice.
But Ragnar had dealt with his father long enough to recognize it instantly. A single wrong word could be twisted, recorded, and used against him later.
He chose his next response carefully before speaking.
"I don’t suspect anything I can’t prove yet," Ragnar said coolly. "And speculation helps no one. What matters now is that the rebels don’t see us coming."
King Zeriel continued to study him for another long, heavy moment, eyes sharp.
Then, gradually, his expression softened.
"Very well," he said finally. "Keep your silence if you must. But should I discover that a traitor walks within these walls..." His voice dropped, low and deliberate. "I expect you to bring me their head."
Ragnar inclined his head once more, his tone steady, controlled. "Of course, Your Majesty. It would be a pleasure to do so."
The king’s voice softened, sounding almost fond, though it carried the same weight of command. "Go then. Ready your troops. You have my permission to proceed."
Ragnar bowed deeply. "I will do my absolute best to fulfill your commands."
As he turned to leave, the heavy doors closed behind him with a resounding click that echoed along the marble halls.
For a long moment, Ragnar walked in silence, his mind awash with the king’s words. The mission was now his and with it, the burden of what was to come.
The task was his now, along with the burden it carried. Crushing the rebellion would be the easier part.
What weighed heavier was the knowledge that the true danger was not in the woods where the rebels hid, but here, within the palace, hiding in plain sight. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
But he also knew that the game unfolding within the capital was far more dangerous than anything waiting for him now that the king also believed that someone from the palace was secretly aiding the rebels.
And if there truly was someone within the palace feeding information to the rebels, Ragnar would have to find them before the king found them first.
