Mission of the Just Page 1

CHAPTER 1

The wolf bared his teeth the moment we made eye-contact, his fur bristling. He

smelled like rancid meat and stale blood and frustration—the sharp smell of sour

crabapple.

My stomach roiled and I took a step back. My breath backed up. My heart

thundered. There was nowhere to run. Forest surrounded me; the city walls lay to the

north.

The wolf growled, deep and throaty, and stepped toward me.

I slowly squatted to the forest floor, balanced on the balls of my feet, and lowered

my gaze to his chest. Maybe the signs of submission would pacify him. I'd never survive

an attack even if I managed to draw my sword.

The wolf crouched, his hindquarters poised for the jump.

Holy Maker, save me! Sweat trickled down the edges of my face. I didn't want to

fight.

I couldn't die—that'd send Tala into bonding shock and she'd be helpless if the

wild wolf found her. I mentally reached out for my bond-wolf, frantically scouring our

link to make contact with her, to warn her, to send her toward safety. Just as I touched

Tala's mind, a feral mass of muscle and silver fur hit me.

I staggered back, blocking vicious claws with my forearms, and landed in a clump

of snow-dusted ferns. Pain flared through my back and shoulders. My breath exploded

from my body as I took the wolf's full weight.

His breath bathed my face as he bared sharp teeth.

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I grabbed his ear, desperately pulling his head and teeth away from my throat. A

knee in the ribs should have broken the hold, but his back claws kept me down, shredding

my leather leggings as he tried to find purchase.

Submit, he demanded.

His mental voice battered my mind, making my teeth ache and my stomach

clench. Surprised by the thought-speak contact, I lost my grip on his ear. “You'll kill

me.” My voice sounded flat and small in the open space.

I will speak with you. Conviction filled his deep voice. Lie still!

Nonplussed, I dropped my hands to the ground and ceased my struggles. He

wasn't trying to kill me? I sniffed the air, trying to get a hint of his emotions. I scented

determination, slight contempt, and . . . duty? “H—how may I assist you, Silver One?”

I am Honovi. You must report what you witnessed yesterday to the royal

authorities.

A chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the snow soaking into my

leathers. How did he know what I saw yesterday morning? I hadn't even told Tala about

it.

With the whisper of fur across greenery, three more wild wolves approached

behind Honovi. I smelled wet wolf and sour blood and damp earth. Adrenaline coursed

through my blood, preparing me for battle if they attacked.

You must break the chains holding us down, Alex the Just, Honovi said, looking

down on me with his amber eyes. Pride colored his words.

How did he know my name? Why did he—?

Then I sensed calming thoughts. Tala slipped through the ferns to my right. Her
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youngest pup, Shannon, followed closely.

Honovi and his three companions glanced up, tails erect.

Alex, what have you done? Tala's steps were slow and calculated as she neared,

watching the four other wolves. She tucked her tail between her legs, keeping her gaze

low to avoid making eye contact with the rogue wolves. Her daughter, Shannon, lowered

herself to the ground and whimpered, eyes closed tight—a sign of absolute submission.

“I've done nothing,” I said. “Honovi attacked me.”

Tala raised her nose to the wild wolf in humility.

He sniffed her, his golden eyes flashing. A snarl issued from deep in his throat.

Anger surged through me. He wouldn't hurt my bond-wolf! I pushed on his chest

while kneeing his left hind leg and rolled beneath him, escaping his hold. As he

scrambled to get back onto his feet, I took a defensive stance in front of Tala and

Shannon, my sword ready, my feet spread. I met Honovi's gaze defiantly.

Honovi crouched, his hackles raised. Aggressive whelp!

“Don't hurt her!” I instinctively growled at the wild one.

Lower your gaze, Alex! Tala demanded. Her silver fur lay flat against taut

muscle.

“I won't submit if he threatens you,” I said through clenched teeth.

The other three wolves closed in, teeth bared.

“Don't even try,” I said.

This is foolishness, Tala said, lying beside my feet. Her golden gaze dropped as

she laid her ears flat against her skull. Honovi, I submit to you. Speak to us. We will

listen.
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“Tell your brothers to back away!” I demanded, gaze unwavering as Honovi

stepped closer.

We will not harm you, he said, his ears and tail relaxed.

“You snarled at her!”

She is tame, he said contemptuously. But if she belongs to you, we will not harm

her, either.

“She belongs to no one.” I bared my teeth. With my sword drawn, I'd at least be

able to hold them off until Tala and Shannon escaped. “We are bonded.”

Honovi looked at Tala and radiated pleasure. Then she is noble. We will allow her

to live.

The other wolves took a step back and relaxed their aggressive stances.

Honovi spoke to me. You witnessed a crime, yet have not spoken to your king.

Tala looked up at me, her neck arched to show the gray under-fur beneath the

black guard hairs. You have hidden this from me?

I rubbed at my aching shoulder, where wolf claws had dug in, and stared at

Honovi so I wouldn't meet Tala's eyes. “I didn't want to burden you.”

What burden? she asked. You must obey the Maker's Laws.

“I can't!”

Why not? Honovi asked.

“I just can't.”

Explain!

I growled. “I don't have to explain myself to you. Why do you care about the

affairs of men?”
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I smelled Honovi's barely-contained anger, the acrid scent of scorched fur. The

machinations of men touch us even in the Forsaken Lands.

“Nothing will change, for either of us, if I speak to the king. It's useless.”

You are called Alex the Just? Honovi asked. The bitter smell of contempt flooded

the space between us. How did you earn this name when you do not stand up for justice?

The accusation hit me like a punch to the throat. He was right. I'd earned the

reputation of seeking justice, yet I'd done nothing this time. Anger flooded my system,

and I swallowed hard. “Why is this your affair?”

Donal must pay for his crimes! You are the only witness. You must speak.

I clenched my teeth. The wolves could smell a lie as easily as I could, so I spoke

the truth. “The prince and I loathe each other. The king won't believe anything I say.”

You would avoid this because Donal is your enemy? Honovi asked.

“If I speak of this, I'll be executed!” I felt the tightening in Tala's chest at my

words, but she said nothing. I knew Donal's choice method. I could already feel the fiery

burn of the whip. The scars across my back pulled at the memory.

So concerned for your own well-being? the wild wolf taunted.

The barb hurt, and I winced at the scolding. I'd hoped to avoid a confrontation,

hoped that someone else would step forward and do what I couldn't. But it wouldn't

happen. No one ever spoke up; no one was foolish enough to take the risk.

Whatever outcome Honovi hoped for, though, he wouldn't get it. And a lot of

other people would be hurt by my action. Still, I had to live by Hiarn Jee's laws, or I was

no better than the prince. “I'll speak with the king,” I said through clenched teeth.

Honovi's tail drooped completely in relaxation. We will watch for you in the
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wilds outside the boundaries of Dryden, just beyond the western pass.

The hair on the back of my neck rose. “Why would I go to Dryden?” The smaller

kingdom was a four-day march from here.

He took a step back from me. Do not fail, Alpha! Confront your king.

I risked looking up, too startled by the title to be cautious. Why, by all that was

holy, did he call me Alpha? I was no pack leader!

Honovi met my gaze.

I sucked in a quick breath but held steady, honored that he would treat me as an

equal. Living outside the pack structure left most of the wild wolves feral, slightly mad,

and exceedingly dangerous. That this one spoke with me, demanded action from me, and

held my gaze as an equal made me feel uneasy.

Honovi turned and disappeared into the wilderness. His companions followed.

I collapsed to my knees, jabbed my sword into the scabbard across my back, and

tried to get tense muscles to relax. “I haven't been that scared in a long time!”

Tala pressed her shoulder against me and nuzzled her head nob beneath my chin.

They would not have hurt you.

“You didn't have his teeth at your throat!”

Her golden eyes glimmered with excitement. What did you do to attract their

attention?

“Nothing! I came out to run with you, and found myself hunted like prey.”

She snorted. Why can you not live a quiet and peaceful life, like the other bond-

men?

“I'm trying.” I buried my hand in the rich, silver fur of her neck and allowed her
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to comfort my agitated nerves. I still had trouble believing I'd held a conversation with a

wolf other than Tala! As an elite bond-man in my kingdom, I had the mental ability to

speak with all the wolves. But most wolves spoke only with their bond-man. “Do you

think Honovi will come after me if I don't comply?”

Do not test him, she answered. I do not want to fight him.

I shuddered. I didn't think Honovi would attack us, not when he wanted my help,

but the wild ones were unpredictable.

Tell me about this crime you witnessed.

I held nothing back, knowing she'd sense a lie.

Tala glanced at the western sky and the setting sun. It is too late to act today.

I sucked in a breath and let out a shudder. “I'll ask for an audience tomorrow.”

The following morning, I strode through the palace doors, down the marble

hallway filled with portraits and tapestries, and stopped at the throne room doors. General

audience wasn't for another four days, so I'd have to request a special audience. Just what

I needed. I'd been trying so hard to stay out of the King's way, to not call attention to

myself, and here I was demanding a hearing.

I could almost feel the stripes across my back—that's what I'd get for my trouble.

Honovi couldn't stand beside me, couldn't speak in my defense. No, he had to demand I

do this without him. The wild ones weren't allowed into the city—for good cause—but I'd

have felt better with a wolf at my side, even a wild one.

I swallowed hard, raised my fist, and pounded on the massive bronze doors.

A palace guard opened it. “What?”

“I need to speak with the king.” I stood at attention, my leathers brushed, my

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boots clean, my brown tunic spotless.

He looked me over. “You need a beating that badly?”

“Don't argue with me. I need to see him.”

“General audience is in four days.”

“Now. Please.”

He paused. “Your skin, not mine. Wait over there.” He nodded toward the

hallway, then slammed the door in my face.

I sat on a wooden bench, ignoring the icy draft that whipped around my feet and

the chill radiating from the marble floor beneath me. A painting of King Kenneth and his

bond-wolf, Motega, hung on the wall, their eyes staring down at me coldly. Rumor was

that the king's bond with his wolf was nebulous, weak. That they did not function

properly as a bond-team. That Motega did not trust his bond-man.

I shivered. The bond between man and wolf shouldn't be so feeble.

It shouldn't take this long. I stood and paced, my leather boots whispering across

the slick floor. My fingertips caressed the sword hilt protruding over my right shoulder as

I fought the panic that churned in my guts.

Where was everyone? The palace wasn't usually this quiet. I heard servants

bustling in a nearby hallway, but no one strayed down this main avenue. I hadn't seen a

single palace guard other than the one at the throne room doors. Did that mean anything,

or was I just so paranoid that everything seemed ominous?

The bench suddenly looked inviting again. I sank onto it and rested my skull

against the stone wall. What was I to say, if the king allowed me to see him? “Your son's

a murdering thief, Sire, though I'm sure that's no reflection on you. Oh, and did I mention
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he's a lecherous thug?” I snorted. That'd earn me a slow and painful death.

Sobering, I remembered the lashes Prince Donal demanded the last time I

confronted him. The scars still ached sometimes. Bond-men healed quickly, but—

A blast of warmer air enveloped me as the bronze door swung inward.

When the guard gestured for me to enter, I hesitated. Did I really want to say

these things to my king? Maybe Honovi was wrong, maybe—

The guard didn't wait for me to decide. He turned his face toward the throne and

announced my presence to the entire room. “Second Lieutenant Alex Mac Joseph, the

Just.”

“Come.” The king's voice echoed in the near-empty chamber.

I swallowed my fear and stepped inside the room, glancing back at the guard's

expression to gauge the king's mood. The guard paced back through the doorway,

ignoring me completely. The bronze door clanged shut.

No escape now. I thrust my shoulders back and marched toward the throne,

surveying the room as I crossed the stone floor. Two of the four fireboxes were dark. Ash

mingled with the straw and debris that littered the stonework, giving the room a dusty

smell and making the footing treacherous. Faded tapestries lined the gray stone walls,

depicting scenes from Kiaran's long history: the sea voyage to this new land, the battle at

Bran, the settlement of Dryden and their bid for independence; the meeting of our people,

the Jeelys, with the humans who inhabited the land so many years ago.

At the far end of the room, the oaken throne of Kiaran gleamed with polish. The

gold statue of a lamb, resting at the apex of the throne back, gazed out over the throne

room with dark sapphire eyes. Plush purple cloth, the color of fresh bruises, draped the
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throne's back and seat.

King Kenneth sat upon his throne in his royal robes, his face clean-shaven and his

graying hair in the conventional braid. He was a man born to power, born to rule, and

always certain of himself. He was also unpredictable, impatient, and lately, forgetful.

Today he looked ill, his skin pale and slack, his back hunched, his brown eyes dull.

I'd chosen a poor day to confront him.

Beside the throne sat the king's bond-wolf. Motega served as the leader, the

Alpha, of the Kiaran bond-wolves. Stark white fur contrasted with the silver in his

muzzle. A strip of tan ran down his chest and disappeared under his belly.

Honovi had called me Alpha. I shivered. I didn't believe for a second that the wild

wolves would allow me to rule over them, yet I couldn't think of any other meaning for

the title. I didn't want to rule anyone. I wanted to live a quiet life with Mariah by my side,

bringing honor to our Maker.

Motega sent out a wave of peace that flooded my soul and relaxed my frayed

nerves. Having my own bond-wolf with me would have been infinitely better. But

Motega had denied Tala entrance to the hall today. Maybe he knew what I had to report.

Maybe he kept my wolf from my side to protect her from the punishment I'd receive. Or

maybe he protected the king from Tala's wrath once the sentence had been issued.

My thoughts were clearer when she was near. I sorely needed her now.

Shrouded in shadow at the far corner of the vast hall I picked out the shapes of

two more palace guards. And Councilor Tray. I couldn't mistake his lanky form or the

salty-sweet smell of the eel-grass he smoked. The skin on my back ached from the

thought of beatings he'd administered. I'd managed to stay away from him for nearly a
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year.

I reached the dais and found my voice. “Highness.” I knelt before my king and

waited for acknowledgment.

He said nothing.

I remained on the floor with my head down. In this position, the king could see

the Mastery Cords wrapped around my long braid, displaying my status as a Master

Swordsman and Master Archer. Would that reminder of my position in his army aid me

in some way?

The silence stretched.

My fears rose. Could he somehow already know why I'd come? Did he know the

atrocities committed by his heir? I swallowed hard and tried to control the adrenaline

coursing through my blood.

“Rise, Lieutenant,” the King said.

I stood, nodding to Motega in proper respect to the bond-wolf, and waited in

humble silence for permission to speak.

“What is so urgent that it couldn’t wait?” King Kenneth asked.

I took a long, deep breath. “Your Highness, I witnessed a crime two days ago.”

“And you've waited until now to report it?” he asked.

“I—it was—I wasn't sure you'd—” I couldn't say it aloud.

“This is about the prince,” King Kenneth said, his shoulders sagging.

A wave of cold dread swept through my body. “Yes, Sire.”

“Have you confronted him?” Weariness showed in his eyes.

“No, Sire.”
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He said nothing in response, his eyes closed, his face painted with anguish. For a

split second, I thought he might weep. I pitied him. Then he drew a deep breath, sat up

straight, opened his eyes, and motioned for me to continue.

“I was exercising in the yard early that morning when I heard voices behind the

weapons shed. Lieutenant Lewis hadn't scheduled anyone for training at that hour, and I

wondered who had ventured out into the snow.” I paused, fighting the overwhelming

urge to flee the throne room.

“Continue,” the King said.

I sucked in a quick breath. “The sun had not yet risen above the trees, but I could

make out the figures of two men.” I paused. Licked my lips. Honovi and Tala agreed that

I must do this. I had to trust their wisdom, even if it went against every instinct in my

body. “I saw Prince Donal arguing with a Lorcan.”

The king leaned forward. “You're certain he was Lorcan?”

I sought my memories. “His hair was clipped short. He wore a spruce-green

uniform. He spoke with a Lorcan accent.”

The king nodded. “Continue.”

“They were arguing over a sword, but the Lorcan wouldn't relinquish it. The

prince finally nodded, as if accepting the unfavorable outcome.” My palms began to

sweat inside my archery gloves.

“That is no crime,” the King said.

“When the Lorcan turned his back, Prince Donal drew his blade and—” Hiarn Jee

preserve me, could I really say this out loud to my king?

Kenneth leaned forward. “What did he do?”

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I lowered my eyes. “He killed the man.”

His eyes widened. “My son killed a Lorcan warrior?”

“Yes, Sire. He took the sword and left.”

“You're certain the man is dead?”

“I checked.”

Then what did you do? Motega thought-spoke to me, his voice fluid and deep.

I glanced up, awed. Wolves simply did not thought-speak to anyone other than

their bond-man! Yet I'd heard from two different wolves in as many days? Something

was definitely wrong in Kiaran.

“I went to find Lieutenant Lewis,” I said to Motega, then addressed the King.

“But when we got to the crime scene, the body had vanished.”

“Vanished.” He repeated it with disbelief.

I nodded. “Not even a trace of blood. The area had been swept clean. Lew and I

couldn't find anything to prove what I'd witnessed.”

“And no one else witnessed this altercation.”

I hesitated. “There was another. I sensed someone else nearby—”

“What does that mean, you sensed someone?”

Had the king never used his bond with Motega to sense the presence of others?

Maybe the rumors were true. I clenched my jaw and sucked in a quick breath. “I detected

a unique scent from the far side of the shed.”

His eyes narrowed. “And you think you know this person's identity? Or do you

want me to parade every citizen of Kiaran before you so you can sniff them?”

I swallowed, fighting to keep the contents of my stomach where they belonged.

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He'd know, the moment I spoke the words, and then the whip would fly. “I smelled eel

grass.”

“That could be anyone,” the king muttered.

I shot a quick glance to the corner of the room. Tray's pale face remained as

unreadable as King Kenneth's. I knew the Lorcan councilor would never blatantly lie to

the king—lies smelled like crushed peppergrass, and the king, as a bond-man, would

detect it immediately. But withholding the truth did not produce the lie-scent, so Tray

remained silent.

“Sire, you know I speak—”

The king looked down at his wolf. “What did you say?” They shared a private

thought-speak discussion, at which point the king's face transformed from mild anger to

outright disbelief.

“You can't be serious!” the king said, his eyebrows lifting.

The charge should be investigated, Motega now thought-spoke to both of us.

Lieutenant Alex has a reputation for honesty.

“I disagree, mutt,” the King countered. “I won't accuse my advisor of withholding

information from me on the word of a common soldier.” He pursed his lips and narrowed

his eyes, focused on his bond-wolf. “With only one witness and no evidence, I see no

reason to investigate.”

I clenched my fists. I knew the king would protect his son, would turn a blind eye

to the truth, would ignore my report. I shifted from one foot to the other, trying to think

of something, anything to say that might change his mind.

The king studied me. “Speak your mind, soldier.”

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I opened my mouth to speak, then shut it again. I had to choose my words

carefully. “Sire, I mean no disrespect, but a man was murdered. Donal has the sword. If

you find it in his rooms, it would serve as a second witness to the crime.”

“You are seriously accusing my heir of murder?” he asked incredulously. “Do

you truly wish to tread these waters?”

“I don't want to anger Your Majesty—”

“Then the matter is resolved.”

“But if—”

The king leaned toward me. “You've heard my judgment. Would you defy me?”

“I mean no defiance, but—”

King Kenneth’s eyes widened as his skin mottled to a deep red color. “Yet you

would speak against me, anyway.” He clutched the armrests of the throne for support and

struggled to his feet. “Councilor!”

The foreign man emerged from the shadows and joined the King, who now stared

down at me. Two palace guards flanked the councilor, their faces averted.

My blood chilled, my feet rooted to the marble flooring. I knew I shouldn't have

listened to Honovi. Now the king would order a flogging, and Donal would learn how

many strokes it took to kill a bond-man.

The king's pronouncement reverberated off the walls. “Lieutenant Alex, son of

Joseph the Jeweler, with Hiarn Jee as my witness, you have defied my will.” His face

turned stony. “You have committed an act of slander and treason against the High Throne

of Kiaran. You will be escorted to the border and sold to Lorcan slavers.”

Blood drained from my face. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Just
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as my legs gave way beneath me, the guards grasped my arms, prepared to drag me from

the palace. I sagged mutely between them. The slave pens—instead of the agony and fire

of a whip, my death would be slow and humiliating.