A Promise of Iron Brandon McCoy (howl and other poems TXT) 📖

men first, your elders, your leaders, your warriors. Then they took your name, forbidding you to utter the name Rukland in their presence. Then they burned away your history, your roots that anchor you to this land.” He took a final drink from his tea then turned the cup over on his saucer. “But this goes far beyond stripping you of your metal, my boy. They stripped you of something much more important.”

He leaned forward, pressing his fingers together, urging me to answer. I looked deep into his copper-eyes. There I saw clarity, both in my purpose and his, seeing his true motives for the first time. Monroe wasn’t trying to take Nahdril from me. He would have me give it away. I eased into my chair and wore a practiced smile.

“Hope,” I said. “They took away our hope.”

Chapter Twenty

Summer 1272, Cyllian Imperial Count

Monroe stood from his chair and paced in a circle around us, hands behind his back. “Have you considered what you will do when you first draw your sword?”

“I… I’m not sure what you mean, my lord?” I said.

“It is a remarkable weapon. Not something easily overlooked. How do you plan on keeping its identity a secret? Have you considered what you will do if you were approached by Imperial authority?”

I forced a breath through gritted teeth. “I have my—”

“Writ of ownership? Yes, the Valerius girl was quite clever in submitting it and bypassing inspection. My compliments on the inscription as well. It is as fitting a name as any.”

I folded my arms and snorted.

“I meant no offense,” Monroe said, raising both palms. “My concerns it that your writ wouldn’t hold against a scrutinizing eye. You, no doubt, have thought the same.”

He walked over to the other side of his desk. On the corner, he sat facing me, arms folded across his chest. “Your writ states the weapon as silver, though it is anything but. No amount of paint or prayer will ever change that.”

I dropped my head into my hands. I felt that wellspring of strength again, that response to fight or flee, but it was short-lived. I looked up, not angrily as before. Tears formed around the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away. “So you would have my blade then? That is the purpose of all of this? To keep it hidden, to keep it safe?”

“Yes,” Monroe admitted. His copper eyes narrowed, piercing once more. “I would have it in my house. I would have the name Nahdril added to this book of legend. I would start its lineage today, woven into the very fabric of my house. I would shout to the known world that truesilver has risen again in the lands of the North.”

A lone tear streamed down my face. I bit my lip and wiped it away with the back of my hand. Over ten years, I had known the Monroes. They were like family to me. They had given me much in life, and now they would do this?

“So, you would steal this from me like a thief in the night? You’re no better than the Cyllians!” My voice echoed through the hall; then all became quiet, all became still.

Monroe took a deep breath, looked to Crylwin, then back to me. “Dinner will be served shortly. Stay the night. We will discuss what to do with your sword tomorrow when I return from Forhd.”

I stood and balled my hands into fists. “I cannot stay and I won’t be leaving without Nahdril.”

“What could be so pressing as to refuse my hospitality?” Monroe said.

“I have an obligation, my lord, a contract I must fulfill.”

Monroe looked to Crylwin, and I caught a hint of a smile forming at the corner of his lips. “Would this involve the piece of iron in your pocket?”

My face froze, all expression locked in stone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you properly.”

“Your pocket, boy,” he said, “the circle of iron.”

“I’m not sure I understand. I have some coin on me, but certainly no iron. I spent everything I had to acquire Nahdril.”

“Come now, boy.” Monroe sighed. “I’m no fool, show me the circle.”

I stood and turned out my pockets. “See, would you like my purse as well?” I reached for the small bundle of coin at my belt. When I looked up, Monroe was holding an iron ring between his two fingers.

“The soil under your fingernails,” Monroe said, “Richard doesn’t miss much.”

I looked down at my hands. “I… I can explain...”

He held his hand up, silencing me. “Do you know what something like this could do to this family?”

I did not meet his eyes as I nodded.

“There are a dozen men, powerful and well-connected, that would pay hard iron to implicate this house the way you just did. The man that gave this to you, who was he, what was his name?”

I stared at the tops of my boots.

“I asked you a question, boy.”

“I heard you,” I said, meeting his eyes. “But I never said it was a man.”

Monroe eased into his chair and pressed his fingers together in front of his nose. “Clever boy,” he mumbled. “My agents have been watching you for some time. They say you met with a known conspirator and came out of that meeting a bag of iron richer.”

I remained silent. This was not my first interrogation, and Monroe, powerful as he may be, was a long stride from an Imperial Inquisitor.

“I just need a name, boy.”

I leaned forward on his desk. “If you had me followed, then you know who he is already.”

He pressed his fingers together. “I will hear it from your lips.”

I shook my head, “I will not condemn another man. I’ll have none of his blood on my hands.”

“Then it shall be your blood on your hands,” Monroe said, his eyes growing cold.

I raised my arms to the sides. “Then have done with it.”

“You having fun?” Crylwin interrupted. “You’re like two cocks with nothing better to do but crow.”

“I had to be sure,” Monroe said,