Chapter 131: A Traitor Among You (Part Two)
Inwardly, Ritchel seethed, consumed more by fury than fear. ’Say nothing,’ the messenger had said. ’There is a traitor on the council. Hauke is alive and Lady Nyrielle’s men suffered losses protecting him.’
The report was brief and brought both immediate relief but the relief was consumed by a fury colder than the peak of the mountain in winter. Clearly Nyrielle didn’t possess enough trust to pass the identity of the traitor to him via a messenger but there were only a few possibilities that stood out to the Eldritch Lord.
Paulus had been outspoken in suggesting that they groom Torsten as the next Lord of the High Pass. That, combined with the fact that the attack had put Hauke at risk placed the aging Elder at the top of his list of suspects.
More concerning, however, was the notion that Jannik intended to challenge him for leadership of the nation again. Both of them were growing old but neither of them was willing to yield to the next generation yet. While Ritchel had confidence that he could defeat Jannik in a fair fight if they were to duel again, he had little confidence in resisting the full might of the army Jannik had trained.
While the other elders each had their own long held grudges and petty disagreements with Lord Ritchel and his decades of rule in the High Pass, none of it stood out to him as significant enough to provoke a genuine betrayal.
Of all the elders gathered, only Old Svenja remained inscrutable. As the oldest living elder, she spent much of her time tending to the ancestral caves. In council meetings, she spoke for the honored dead and had learned more from them than anyone else in this room. Her eyes had gone milky white with age and a young girl stood constantly at her side to tend to her needs, but no one would call her feeble or frail.
The idea that Svenja had betrayed them in some way terrified Ritchel more than anyone else on the council. If she felt it necessary to make a move against him then it was as good as a condemnation from the ancestors in which case he could only pray for a clean death.
Time passed far too slowly in the grand hall. The arrival of fifty armed warriors dressed in resplendent blue and silver tunics to pay respect to the honored dead came as a cold comfort. If Jannik had betrayed him then summoning so many of his soldiers was as good as placing a knife against his own neck, but if the traitor was anyone else then they would be the first line of defense against further treachery.
The tension in the great hall grew thicker with each passing minute. Guards shifted uneasily at their posts, hands never far from their weapons. While the words hadn’t been spoken in the great hall, Lord Ritchel’s instructions had been to come ’dressed for a funeral and prepared for battle.’ While none of them dared to speak, their fur stood on end and their ears strained for the slightest hint about what was about to happen.
Among the council members, whispers passed like winter wind through empty canyons. By this point, all of them had heard a few bits of news from their subordinates outside the great hall, but none of them had enough information to know what was really going on.
"My hunters say they found traces of a Tuscan camp, close enough to be within sight of the castle," one elder muttered to another. "Something that close to the keep, Commander Jannik’s men should have seen it."