Page 3 of Fate's Wicked Oath

“The Maiden Morta Killer, herself,” Ivan confirmed.

I had a bit of a reputation among the Valiant that had led to the unfortunate nickname. Heris hated it even more than I did: it was a reminder that though I was a subordinate, I possessed a degree of power. Skill beyond that of my master.

No one in Heris’s faction used that nickname, but Ivan was not a member of our gang; he roamed, serving everyone in our Order at will, mostly to deliver messages.

Heris glanced back at me with a snarl, then jerked his chin at Brom and Castor. They released me at once, and I stumbled, realizing belatedly that they’d been holding me up.Fucking shameful.

Rolling my shoulders, I ignored the bonfire of pain in my middle and strode over to Ivan to retrieve the small roll of paper. The rich orange ribbon was deliciously silky under my fingertips, so out of place in the rugged and ruined wild; I slid it off the scroll and tucked it into my pocket as I scanned the paper.

The summons was short and to the point. I was to report to the capital to assist the Order of the Mighty in an unnamed task.

Heris swiped the paper from my grasp, his frown deepening as he read. “Fuck,” he finally swore, rubbing his stubbly jaw. “Fuck, you can’t.”

“Not sure I have a choice,” I said, taking the scroll back to read it all over again. “It was written by the Major of the Mighty and signed by the Lord himself.”

“Ignoring a summons is considered desertion of one’s Oath,” Ivan said, pointing out what we already knew. Then, more sheepishly, he added, “To ensure your compliance, I was tasked to accompany you.”

I sighed—then cringed at my aching ribs. Heris was seething beside me, but even he had no say in a summons from the Lord.

“What could they possibly want withher?” Brom asked.

“Thanks, Brom,” I quipped.

“I wasn’t told much,” Ivan said, “but I heard a rumor they want to investigate the situation in Yar.”

“Nothing left to investigate,” I replied flatly.

The small cottage town of Yar-on-Gray had been overrun by Morta earlier this year in a massacre that the Valiant hadn’t been able to contain.

“They see it as a failure of our Order,” Heris spat. “They’ll use it to make a case for our disbandment.”

Castor whistled low. Brom shifted where he stood, loose pebbles grinding under his boots. Ivan took in the towers of crumbling stone that we’d made our home. The only thing worse than being a Valiant Knight was for our Order to be dissolved, effectively sending us all back to the dungeon—or execution. Nobodyvolunteeredto take this Oath; it was a sentence, and if the Lord of Fenrir no longer believed we were useful, he’d have no trouble doling out a darker Fate for all of us criminals-turned-knights.

But I knew the Major of the Order of the Mighty; even if Lord Haron ordered this investigation, if my summons came from Major Farkept, there had to be other factors at play.

“We don’t know what it means yet,” I said, meeting Heris’s eye. “But I can find out. Find leverage. Perhaps”—I swiped mytongue along my split lip, tasting the blood on the swollen flesh—“I can find us an advantage.”

“Your optimism is foolish, Mariana,” Heris scolded, but then he smiled, revealing a set of crooked yellow teeth. “Leverage isn’tfound, it’smade.”

I crumpled the summons in my fist. Heris might’ve been a prick—another leash I couldn’t gnaw through—but we were working toward the same goal. It was important for me to remember that.

“Then I’ll make leverage,” I promised.

Heris rested a hand on my shoulder, almost dotingly. He was much taller than me, rangy and aging, but his grip was strong. “Mariana, my secret weapon.” His sweet tone made me shiver. “When we win this, I’ll set you free.”

I had no choice but to believe him. Heris might’ve been a villain, but he took care of his weapons. Honed them. Sharpened them. Kept them shiny. Blades could cut both ways, but I’d learned long ago that my usefulness to him could cut a path to safety, too—especially alone among the territory’s most ruthless criminals.

“Need time to gather your things?” Ivan asked me.

“Already packed,” I told him, sliding out of Heris’s grasp. “I’ll get my horse. I don’t care to linger.”

You are a sword,I repeated to myself once again, heading in the direction of the stables without so much as another glance at my fellow knights.Steel does not feel.

2

Duty

Faren