The Missing Chapter Three

From A Spell of Bones and Madness

It had been nine years, four months, and twenty-seven days since Ajax last stepped on the shores of Nexos. His home. At least it used to be. Ajax always knew this day would come, when he would have to sail back to the place he was raised, where he had experienced loss, where he learned to train at such a young age. Yet he still was not prepared to deal with the past he kept locked away in his mind—would maybe never be ready for that.

Had the king and queen kept his room the same, or given it to some other soldier that showed promise and drive—someone who could replace him on the inside now that his cover had been blown? The Spartanis had fallen, taking its most trusted and loyal senators, and Ember’s uncle, with them. 

When Farah had slipped into his bedroom in the Alentian barracks the morning of Kohl and Katrin’s wedding, he nearly threw up. There were no signs of an attack of that caliber, no whispers of dissent throughout the ranks, and no more ships in the harbor than a royal wedding warranted. She’d only said three words to him before handing him a letter and fleeing to the castle. “They are coming,” she’d croaked, shaking so violently he wasn’t sure how the princess was even holding herself upright. 

The letter had been dated several weeks prior, and how it had taken so long to travel to him from the surrounding isles, Ajax could not grasp. The seal was broken and Ajax only hoped Farah had been the person to read the missive first, and not a member of the opposition. No soldiers had come for him that morning, so all signs pointed that way.

Ajax,

The King of Harrenfort is sending his army aboard the merchant and court ships that will be arriving in Alentus for the wedding. Edmund’s infiltration has gone beyond what we could have ever imagined. Our goal is still the same, to extract Katrin from the isle as soon as we can. The Nostos has set sail and should arrive in time for your escape. 

It is under my recommendation that Farah remains on Alentus with her father. She is a vital resource to our cause and we have no reason to believe that she is in danger. Once this letter is in your possession you must burn it. Only the newly inducted Prytan can be trusted.

Cal

Farah had sacrificed a lot by delivering the letter to him. It was easy at first, pretending they were in some sort of romantic tryst when she arrived on Alentus so that no one would suspect their treason. Pretending they had never met before. The ruse went back years, sending encrypted letters back and forth, meeting in Lesathos on occasion for information that was too sensitive to be sent through a missive—even if the true meaning was undetectable.

They had played the part so well, and still, something so monumental had slipped through the cracks. Hades was powerful, even if the Olympi was merely spirit. His manipulations were hard to fend off if one was not trained. 

For a brief moment, Ajax had seen the Prince of Nexos as Alexander snuck his way through the castle. They’d exchanged curt words—not nearly the sentimental reunion the old friends deserved—before soldiers nearby were alerted that King Nikolaos’s son had a ship docked at port and that he was here to assassinate the newly crowned queen. This was, of course, what the opposition intended to do, not Ajax’s own men. Alexander had gone to find Katrin and explain what was happening before King Edmund’s men attacked. Ajax started to make his way to a nearby weapons closet when only moments later, he’d heard a squabble down the hall, swords clanging against each other. He’d gone to see what the commotion was, but it was too late. Six armed guards had shackled the prince, and were dragging him away in the direction of the dungeon. Now they were back at sea, fleeing for their lives while one of their own—their captain—was being held against his will in the most daunting place the isles had to offer. 

“I’m glad you didn’t leave me behind,” Farah said, fiddling with the silver locket she wore around her neck. She sat across from Ajax in his quarters, which were much smaller than even his room in the barracks, though he should be glad he had privacy here rather than sleeping in the main section of the ship with the rest of the crew.

“Farah, I wouldn’t have left you there. Your father would have killed you for your betrayal. Why would you even think that?” His voice was choppy, cracking with each word. Khalid probably would have done much worse than just kill her. Ajax understood why Cal had said to leave her in place, but it had been a long time since the former commander of the Nexian fleet had faced in battle, or managed spies this far up in the ranks.

“Because Ember hates me and I doubt she will ever trust me. It would have been easier for you—for the both of you.” Farah slid further down in the chair.

There weren’t many times Ajax saw the Morentian princess look so defeated, biting away at her nails like an anxious child waiting to be reprimanded for their latest rebellion.

“She is still in shock. It has only been a week and in that week she has learned the very men she was supposed to lead were working for another king, plotting not only her death, but that of her sister. For so long Ember didn’t want that position and finally when she decided to fight for it, for her birthright, it was stripped from her with no semblance of a way to get it back. She fled from her people, was unable to bury a man that was basically her father—how would you feel after that?” Ajax ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh.

Somehow he would have to find a way to get Ember and Farah on the same page. They were allies after all, and eventually would need to fight side by side. But for now, he would need to give the Prytan space. Allow her to grieve in her own manner—gods only knew how he understood that.

“I know all about not being able to bury those we love, Jax.” Now she grasped the locket even tighter, closing her eyes as she breathed in. “Have you thought much about going home? About showing her this other world you hid from her—from her sister?”

“I think she will like it there, if that is what you mean. It is much more like Alentus than you would think.” It was. Ajax remembered the first time he ever stepped foot on Alentus, a nervous teenager sent to infiltrate one of the most elite forces in all of the isles—but the traditions, the character of the isle were so much like Nexos.

“And your parents—will you visit them?” Her eyes softened just a little, tilting her lips to the side.

“I don’t want to talk about my parents, Farah,” he huffed, instinctively throwing a crumpled piece of parchment into the fire. 

“At some point you have to. It will—”

“I am not having this conversation with you right now. We have more pressing discussions to be had with the rest of the crew. It is far more important than something that happened years ago.” He leaned forward, pressing himself up from the chair. “We should go speak with Leighton. See if he has a plan for our arrival in Nexos.”

Farah stood as well, walking across the small room until she was inches from him. “If you do not want to talk about them now, that is your choice. But when you do—if you do—know that I am here, that I will go with you if you need a friend.”

Ajax wondered how such a kind and empathetic person had lived with King Athanas for so long. She was the heir to a throne that ruled through power and fear, and yet she somehow always put others above herself. 

“Thank you, Farah, but I think that is something I will have to do alone.”

***

A pile of sealed missives sat on the table in the war room. Each was to be delivered to a different one of Ajax’s spies, all encrypted with the same code he and Farah used over the years. His katáskopoi were dispersed throughout the isles and the continents, though none remained in Alentus. Each of the missives would be sent using the hawks trained on Nexos—that was, if the creatures survived the journey without being shot down. Hopefully one of Ajax’s crew would overhear the state of Alentus at a brothel on the isle of Lesathos or the taverns of Harrenfort in Voreia. Loose lips tended to come out when imbibed with alcohol and the temptation of a woman—even if they didn’t realize that the same woman could slit their throat with a dagger if they placed an unwanted hand on them, that they may be the same women they should fear. Living nightmares working for the spymaster of Nexos.

His katáskopoi were the elite and before the fall of the Spartanis, none had been discovered. There were even a few in the upper ranks of Tyrair in the southern continent of Votios that he’d paused contact with for fear that King Athanas would learn from his wife’s homeland that Nexos had infiltrated.

Ajax sat in the middle of the war table aboard The Nostos, his fingers tented as he considered his words wisely. Leighton was temporarily the captain of the ship in Ander’s absence, and Ajax trusted him—but Leighton was also keenly loyal to the men and women of Skiatha first. He knew little of Nexian tradition, nor King Nikolaos’s temper, and frankly Ajax was glad for that. The nauarch was wise and kind and cared very little for politicking, yet politicking was exactly what they would have to do upon arrival.

Katrin and Leighton muttered back and forth across the table, pointing at the charts sprawled before them, laughing intermittently at what the other said. Was it jealousy that caused a panging feeling in Ajax’s stomach, some nauseating emotion that had him slumping his shoulders and refusing to speak? In Alentus, he had other soldiers he conversed with, sparred with, but none were his kin. He hadn’t had that sort of connection with a person since his time living at the palace in Nexos—with Ander and Dimitris—except now he knew very little of companionship. So yes, it was jealousy, and regret, and longing at the two people across from him that seemed closer to one of very few men Ajax deemed family.

“It is likely that Nikolaos will refuse an audience with Katrin,” Ajax began, breaking into their conversation. “He may, however, extend the courtesy if I am present and if he happens to not be the one that greets the ship.”

“He will grant me an audience because I am a queen and a god and he should respect me as such,” Katrin snapped back, though the confidence in her voice was as unconvincing as the shifts in her eyes or the tapping of her fingers against the table.

It was true, Nikolaos should allow Katrin to stand before him and Queen Giselle as a fellow Grechi, but by now they would have learned the fate of their son. Nikolaos did not take kindly to those who put his family in danger—unless it was he that put them there in the first place. Ajax still believed that he could convince the king, persuade him if Katrin would allow Ajax to step upon the shores.

“We are not to believe there is any reason Nikolaos would refuse her,” Leighton said, flipping through the missives once more, checking that every seal was intact.

“Nikolaos’s ego is his biggest downfall. He will blame Katrin for his eldest son’s absence and capture. Katrin, you will need to hold firm in your request and it is best to address both the king and queen. Giselle has been known to sway the king when it comes to matters of the heart. If you use that to your advantage, you might just get their aid.” Dripping a small circle of wax onto the last missive, Ajax stamped down with his signet ring. “And if even that fails, I will do my best to convince them that the prince’s loyal crew and the rightful ruler of Alentus are the best suited to rescue their son.”

The nauarch stared him down, his hands clasped together propping up his chin. “What if Nikolaos fears that your loyalties have shifted? That you no longer do the bidding of Nexos?” 

There was only one thing—one person—that had made him question his allegiance and loyalty to the crown. Ember. Lying to her was his biggest regret, but his feelings for her would not change the status he held in the Nexian Court. 

“Nikolaos has nothing to worry about when it comes to my loyalties,” Ajax responded, passing the last missive across the table.

“And what about me? My crew? Should we worry about where your loyalties lie?” Leighton questioned.

“You may only know me in passing and through correspondence with your captain, but I would not harm a single member of this crew. It is insulting that you would insinuate as much.” Ajax’s lip twitched up in a snarl. 

A loud sigh silenced both Ajax and Leighton. Ajax knew that sigh, having heard it many times in the great hall of the Alentian Castle when the men of court would decide to act like, well, men—voicing their opinions as if they were law and speaking over the one person whose word actually was law. Katrin leaned back in her chair, arms crossed with her eyes rolled to the side. He was just trying to be helpful, to give insight into what may happen when they reach Nexos, but had forgotten that Katrin was as stubborn as they come, a fierce competitor, and an exceptional strategist.

Standing from her seat, Katrin leaned over the table. “I need your assurance, Commander, that if we step ashore we will be allowed to leave and if we leave we will have the supplies we need to rescue Ander. Otherwise, I will take this ship elsewhere and risk encountering the wrath of Edmund and Khalid.”

“You have my word, Your Majesty,” Ajax said, his voice firm. 

“Excellent. Leighton, please aid the commander with releasing the hawks.” The nauarch stood as she spoke. “This particular note must be carried swiftly to Nexos. I want them to know I am coming.” She handed across a particularly small letter to the nauarch, sealed with turquoise wax and the symbol of the sun and lightning Ajax once wore on his Spartanis uniform. 

“As you wish, Katrin.” The nauarch bowed to her, taking the missive as well as a handful of the others Ajax had written earlier. “Come now, spymaster, it is time we get to work.”

Yes. It was time Ajax did what he did best—hunt.