The Parley

The Parley

POV: Seth

The bells kept ringing. Each chime hammered against my skull like a death knell. He was here. Magnus was here.
I stood on the eastern wall, gripping the cold stone so hard my knuckles went white. Below, soldiers rushed to their positions. Officers barked orders. The entire fort mobilized with military precision.
"All non-essential personnel remain inside," a sergeant shouted. "Archers to your posts. No one fires unless given direct orders."
Kieran appeared beside me. His presence was solid, grounding. "You shouldn't be up here."
"I need to see." My voice came out hoarse. "I need to know what he looks like now."
"Seth."
"Please." I turned to look at him. "Don't try to stop me. I have to do this."
Something in my expression must have convinced him. He nodded slowly, then positioned himself between me and the stairs. Protecting my back. Always protecting.
Talon and Aelis joined us moments later. Neither questioned why we were all gathered on the wall instead of staying safe inside. Maybe they understood. Maybe they were just as curious about the monster who'd brought war to our doorstep.
"There." Aelis pointed toward the southern road. "I see them."
I followed her gesture. My stomach dropped.
A group of riders emerged from the tree line. Even at this distance, I could pick out which one was Magnus. He rode at the front, tall and commanding. The others followed like shadows, extensions of his will.
"Twenty soldiers," Talon counted quietly. "Same as Brannor brought. Following the terms exactly."
"Smart," Aelis muttered. "Makes him look reasonable. Honorable, even."
I wanted to laugh at that. Honorable. Magnus Blackclaw didn't know the meaning of the word.
The clearing where the parley would take place lay halfway between the fort and the forest. Neutral ground, Brannor had called it. Safe ground. But nothing felt safe anymore.
Brannor's group was already in position. The captain sat tall on his horse, flanked by his best officers. Behind them, soldiers stood ready. I could see the tension in their postures. Every man knew this could go wrong in a heartbeat.
"Here." Kieran pressed something into my hand. A spyglass. "You can see better with this."
I raised it to my eye with shaking hands. The world jumped closer, suddenly sharp and clear.
And there he was. Magnus Blackclaw.
My breath stopped. He looked exactly the same. Tall and broad-shouldered, moving with that terrible predatory grace. His hair was dark, pulled back from a face that would be handsome if not for the cruelty in it. Even from here, I could see the cold calculation in his eyes.
He dismounted smoothly. His escort did the same. They moved like a pack, coordinated and dangerous.
Brannor dismounted too. The two groups faced each other across ten feet of snow-covered ground.
"They're talking," Aelis said needlessly.
I adjusted the spyglass, trying to read lips, trying to understand what was being said. But the distance was too great. I could only watch body language. The formal bows. The measured gestures.
Magnus smiled. It was the smile I remembered from nightmares. Charming. Pleasant. Completely false.
"He's performing," Talon muttered beside me. "Look at him. Every movement calculated. He's trying to appear reasonable."
"Looking for something," Aelis added.
"Someone," Talon corrected quietly.
My heart hammered against my ribs. Did they know? Had they figured it out?
I forced myself to keep watching through the spyglass. Magnus was gesturing now, his movements expansive. Helpful. Concerned, even. Playing the role of an ally offering assistance.
Lies. All lies. Every word that came out of his mouth was poison wrapped in honey.
Brannor remained stiff, formal. Not buying whatever Magnus was selling. Good. Don't trust him. Don't believe a single word.
The parley stretched on. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. My arms started to ache from holding the spyglass steady. Sweat ran down my spine despite the cold.
What were they talking about? What was Magnus saying? Was he asking questions? Demanding answers?
Was he asking about me?
"This is taking too long," Kieran said tensely. "Parley should be quick. Information exchange and done."
"He's stalling," Talon agreed. "Studying the fort. Our defenses. Our numbers."
I swept the spyglass across Magnus's escort. They stood at attention, perfectly disciplined. But their eyes moved constantly. Watching. Assessing. Memorizing every detail they could see.
"They're scouting," I whispered. "The whole parley is just an excuse to get close and gather intelligence."
"Smart," Aelis admitted grudgingly. "And we can't do anything about it without violating the terms we set."
My hands clenched on the spyglass. This was a game to Magnus. A hunt. He was circling his prey, patient and methodical, learning everything he needed before striking.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Magnus reached into his coat. Brannor's soldiers tensed, hands moving to weapons. But Magnus just pulled out a letter. A single sealed envelope.
He handed it to Brannor with another one of those false smiles. Brannor took it carefully. They exchanged a few more words. Then both groups mounted their horses. The parley was over.
Magnus swung into his saddle with fluid grace. His escort formed up around him. They should have left then. Should have turned and ridden back into the forest.
But Magnus paused. He turned his horse to face the fort. His eyes swept the walls, methodical and patient. Looking. Searching.
"Get down," Kieran hissed, grabbing my arm.
But I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Because Magnus's gaze was moving along the eastern wall. Coming closer. Closer.
And then his eyes found me. I knew it was impossible. The distance was too great. I was just one figure among dozens on the walls. But I felt it. That terrible moment of connection. Of recognition.
Magnus smiled.
It was the smile he'd given me the night he murdered my family. The smile that said he'd won. That I was his. That I'd never escape.
Then he turned his horse and rode away, his escort falling in behind him. They disappeared into the trees like wolves melting into shadows.
I lowered the spyglass with numb hands.
"Did he see you?" Aelis asked quietly.
"I don't know." But I did know. He'd seen me. Somehow, impossibly, he'd known exactly where I was.
"Come on." Talon touched my elbow gently. "Brannor will want everyone in the war room. We need to hear what that letter says."
We climbed down from the wall in silence. My legs felt like water. Every step was an effort. Kieran stayed close, ready to catch me if I fell.
The war room was already packed when we arrived. Soldiers crowded together, all talking at once. Speculation and fear filled the air like smoke.
"Quiet!" Brannor's voice cut through the noise. He stood at the head of the table, the sealed letter in his hands. His face was gray, tight with tension.
The room fell silent.
"The parley was..." Brannor paused, choosing his words carefully. "Unusual. Magnus Blackclaw was polite. Cordial, even. He expressed concern about the attacks. Offered to share intelligence about who might be coordinating them."
"And you believed him?" someone asked incredulously.
"No." Brannor's jaw tightened. "But I listened. And then he gave me this." He held up the letter. "Said it contained proof of who the traitor is. Who's been feeding him information about our defenses."
Murmurs rippled through the room. Excited. Hopeful. Finally, answers.
Brannor broke the seal. The wax cracked with a sound like breaking bones. He unfolded the paper slowly.
I watched his face change. Saw the color drain from it. Saw his hands start to shake.
"Sir?" Carrick stepped forward. "What does it say?"
Brannor didn't answer immediately. He just stared at the letter, reading and rereading like he couldn't believe the words.
"Captain?" Another officer pressed.
Finally, Brannor looked up. His eyes swept the room until they found me. For one terrible moment, his gaze locked with mine.
"It's one sentence," he said quietly. "In very elegant script."
The room held its breath.
Brannor's voice was flat, emotionless. But his eyes never left my face. "It says: 'I know my bride is hiding in your fort. Return her by the full moon, or I'll come take her. And I'll burn everything to find her.'"
The words fell like stones into still water. For one heartbeat, there was perfect silence.
Then everyone started talking at once.
But I couldn't hear any of it. Couldn't see anything except Branno
r's eyes still locked on mine. And the question burning in them.
Who are you?