Meta Gods War 3 by B. Miles (the ebook reader txt) 📕

Lord Remorn’s face was ashen pale and he trembled, from rage or something else, Cam wasn’t sure.

But as Lord Remorn hunched forward, his jaw clenched tight, Cam had a sudden and horrible realization.

Remorn didn’t do this.

Of course he didn’t do this. Sending a Warden as an assassin made no sense. The Wardens were too easily tracked and accounted for, and any discrepancy would be noted by any one of the Elders. On top of that, they weren’t warriors. That man last night certainly hadn’t been much of a threat to Cam and his wives, even in the middle of the night, even when Cam was completely naked.

It made no sense to send a Warden, and Remorn would’ve known that. No, if Remorn wanted to kill Cam and his girls, he would’ve sent one of his loyal army divisions to make sure it happened. He wouldn’t have sent some untrained glorified steward in the middle of the night.

Which begged the question, if not Remorn, then who?

“I would never,” Lord Remorn said. “I freely admit, I oppose your marriage to Camrus, but I did not try and stop it when I could. I would never try and kill guests under my own roof, no matter how impudent and disrespectful they’ve been to me. Much less the husband of my daughter.”

“Nobody else has the motive,” Galla said, her voice strong and pure and clear. “Nobody else would do something like this.”

“Galla,” Lord Remorn said. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m serious, Father,” she said, her tone turning to venom and ice. “You tried to kill my husband. And now I demand retribution.”

“There’s no proof!” Warden Dore leapt to his feet. “There’s no proof one of my… one of my… my men would never do this!”

“Sit down, Dore,” Lord Remorn snapped, and the portly Warden dropped back into his chair, sweating and breathing hard.

“You’re dangerous, Father,” Galla said. “I don’t want to imagine what you might do next, now that a dagger in the dark failed.”

“Galla—” Lord Remorn started, but she interrupted him.

“I move to strip you of command of the army,” she said. “And in your place, I propose we name Camrus Medlar as the Head General.”

The men around the table began to murmur to themselves as Cam stared at them. He looked at their faces and saw approval in most of them, saw more than a few happy nods, and slowly he looked up at Galla standing beside him. She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, and he knew who sent the assassin, he knew who would be smart enough to use this for her own gain.

An assassin was the perfect pretext to take the army away from her father and to give it right to Cam.

“I second her movement,” Elder Frew said, half-standing.

“This is absurd,” Lord Remorn said. “I never sent an assassin. How dare you suggest I would?”

Cam leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest.

Lord Remorn didn’t send that man. There was no part of him that truly thought Remorn would stoop to such a thing, not based on his reactions here, and not based on what Cam knew about the man.

Which meant that Galla was manipulating everyone again, including him.

And yet this was what he wanted. If he spoke up now, it would ruin her game, and destroy Cam’s chances of taking over the army.

That was the most important thing. The wolves were coming, and the army needed a leader, needed someone with the guts and the ability to take them out into the field, to meet the enemy head on.

There wasn’t a single man in the Mansion that could do it.

There was only him.

And so he kept his mouth shut as the Elders stood, one by one, to vote yes on Galla’s proposal.

“This is wrong,” Lord Remorn said. “This is all wrong. I never sent an assassin. And you can’t just… take command from me with a vote. There’s no precedence for this.”

“I believe we can,” Galla said. “And I believe we just did.” She tilted her head and gestured at the gathered military staff. “Shall we have them vote as well.”

Lord Remorn opened his mouth but saw the look on his daughter’s face. His mouth clicked shut and he shook his head.

“This is foolish,” he said. “This is all foolish.”

“Don’t let them do this, Lord!” Warden Dore said. “You have to fight them. Call in the guards, cut them down, you must—”

“Shut up, Dore,” Lord Remorn said.

Silence fell on the table.

Cam reached up and touched Galla’s arm. She looked at him and smiled as he slowly got to his feet. All eyes turned to stare at him, and he looked back, feeling his heart beating heavy in his chest, his palms sweating, his back trembling.

“This wasn’t how I wanted this to happen,” he said, looking around at all the familiar faces. “Many of you know me. Many of you were out there with me, fighting the wolves. I don’t want to be involved in schemes, assassination attempts, politics. The only thing I want is to gather our strength and fight the wolves that have been killing our people and taking our land. They threaten our way of life, they threaten everything we stand for. I’ll take command of the army, not because I want power, but because I want to win this fight, and I’m willing to do what’s necessary.”

He scanned the faces until he stopped on Commander Brice. Her expression was drawn and tight, but she nodded to him, and he took that as acceptance.

“A nice speech,” Lord Remorn said. “And perhaps it convinces them, Camrus of Medlar. But I’m far, far from convinced.” He shook his head and stepped back from the table. “I won’t simply sit back and allow this to happen.”

“I don’t think you have any other choice, Father,” Galla said.

Lord Remorn gave his daughter a look, a strange, pleading look, before sweeping around the far side of the table. Warden Dore leapt to his feet and scrambled