Tales of the Vangen: The Black Ministry's Betrayal (Book 1)

Chapter 41: A Brother Betrayed

The air inside the Vangen's old barracks was heavy and silent. Dux sat leaning against a chair before a small table, eyes flicking over the wall ornaments. Weapons and trinkets from past victories littered every square inch of stone, some recent but most incredibly old. On one side was the shattered remnants of Cleobus' spear, won over after the Vangen had defeated his armies on the Eastern Aquilan Steppes. On another were shards of a shield belonging to General Titius, the third Captain to take up the mantle. And everywhere else a thousand other pieces told a thousand different stories, each more harrowing than the last.

So much history lay scattered about this room, Dux thought. He wondered if he'd add to the collection one day. Here are the broken remnants of an officer's badge belonging to Captain Dux, the only Captain to arrest one of his own for claims of treason.

He wiped a hand from forehead to chin, tugging at his beard until he'd pulled out a few strands. Already a headache began to form where the Empress had picked and prodded. It was going to get worse once the deed was done. The others were inevitably going to lose their gods-damned minds once he told them. Only the Centums he'd posted around the room knew for now. Those that he could trust.

The scraping of shoes and the soft tap of wood drew Dux away from his thoughts. The door opened, and Magus walked softly in carrying that big stick of his in one gnarled hand. The old wizard was looking haggard as usual. Eyes drooping and bloodshot. Skin pale as wax—hair as patchy on his head as it was on his face.

Magus noticed him and gave a wave in his direction. "Captain, what brings you here at this hour? Thought you'd still be up making plans with those snooty Lords in that stuffy war room of theirs?"

Dux sat up a little straighter. He motioned for Magus to sit down. The old wizard looked at him warily before obeying, taking his time to stretch out into the chair. He set his staff gingerly against the nearby bedpost.

"I spoke with the Empress." Dux swallowed, already feeling a lump forming.

"A sordid affair, I'm sure." Magus scratched at a tuft of beard on his cheek.

"She's named you a traitor against the Imperial Crown." Dux continued.

"Ah," Magus puffed his cheeks. "I see. And you believed her?"

"No."

"You still have to take me in," Magus said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

A fresh set of footsteps echoed down in the barracks as the Centums appeared from the shadows. None of them had their typical menace, Dux realized. A lot of them had known Magus when they were still Greenhorns. Most still had their weapons sheathed. Arms crossed. Eyes cast down.

"I'll come quietly," Magus nodded. "I won't put up a fight."

"Thank you," Dux said as he procured a set of heavy manacles. He undid the clasp and fitted the heavy irons around the old man's withered wrists.

"Does Libro know?" Magus asked suddenly, just as the manacles came down, clasping shut.

Dux couldn't look him in the eye as he spoke. "No."

"Poor boy. It's going to break his heart when he finds out." Magus looked down at the manacles, giving the chains a little shake. The irons produced a sharp note, making Dux's headache throb. "He'll have to write this in his Archive, you know?"

Dux shook his head. "It's ruined."

"You noticed?"

"Hard not too. Clutches at it like a mother with her stillborn."