He wrapped me up in his arms, grimacing at the blood on my hands, dirtying his shirt. “Baby, there’s nothing we can do to help them. We’re not ready to go after Drake, yet.”
“But this is good news,” Falcon said. “Not that humans are dying, but that his army won't be ready for some time. He needs to change them, train them and make sure they’re reliable enough to carry out whatever task he asks of them.”
Quaid looked at Nate then at Falcon. “Right. This at least means Ara’ll be safe while she does the Walk of Faith. I doubt he’s gonna come onto Lilithian grounds without some protection.”
Falcon nodded and clapped Nate affectionately on the shoulder. “Nate, my man, welcome to Loslilian.”
“A toast.” Mike, chirpier than usual, stood and tapped his glass. “To the knights, for their exceptionally quick reaction time, the successful capture of an alleged bad guy, and also to our new comrade, Nate.”
We raised our glasses, one by one, all thirty-something people down the table. More chairs had been added since our little family grew; first, my Private Guard being invited to dine with us each night, then a half dozen new vampires, and now Nate. But the head of the table still remained empty—another reminder we had no king and, for me, another reminder that David would miss my coronation ceremony tomorrow.
“Well, I'm glad to be on this side of the fence.” Nate held his glass up to Falcon. “Your knights pack a pretty wicked punch.”
Falcon sipped his wine, smiling into his glass; it was the same kind of smile he gave when he knew he was right about something.
“I must say,” Margret, now nick-named Mrs. Peacock, spoke over everyone. “Michael, I underestimated you. It seems you’ve trained your knights well.”
“Yes,” Moustache Man piped up. “I watched from my window this morning as they caught our new friend.”
Nate shuffled in his seat.
“Young Falcon here is quite a force,” Mrs. Peacock said.
“Just doing my job.” Falcon nodded once.
My ears adjusted to a quieter conversation near me, and as the rest of the table went about their private dinner chatter, I looked at Eric and Nate.
“What’s it mean?” Nate asked Eric.
“It’s permanent, man. You’d have no life.”
“How is that different to now?”
“Amara’s disbanding the Sets when she’s sworn in—we’ll be free to go where we want.”
“Serious?” He glanced at me then back at Eric. “Can I go home—to my family?”
“No, man, but you can get on with your life.”
“So, are you swearing an oath?” Nate asked.
“No.”
“You will if you want to be on the Private Council,” Arthur said, coming into the conversation uninvited.
Eric’s jaw came forward—the serious side of him. He looked down at his plate.
“Why, Arthur?” I asked across the table; several people hushed.
“It’s the law. Those in your Private Council must be sworn to the throne or to the people.”
“What does the oath do?” Nate asked.
“It makes those who bear the mark bound to obey any command given in strong order by their ruler.”
“Except those sworn to the people,” a man said. “Then they may disobey, should they see the order detrimental to the greater good.”
“Right.” Arthur nodded.
“And what if they swear to the other one—the…throne, was it?” Nate asked.
“Yes, the throne,” Arthur said. “In that case, they must obey, no matter what.”
“Did you swear an oath, Arthur?” I cut in.
He nodded, sipping his wine. “I was on the World Council. It was a requirement.”
“But not as Set leader—like David was?”
He shook his head.
“So, Arthur, if Drake was to call you up now and tell you to come back, would you have to?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“What if you were sworn to the throne?”
“Yes.”
“And Jason? What was he sworn to?” I asked, ignoring the quiet gasps when I mentioned his name.
“The throne.”
“So, when I take over, his allegiance would automatically have transferred?”
Arthur nodded.
“And I swear my allegiance to the people?” I touched my chest.
“Yes.”
“But, I don't have to do what they say if they order me to?”
“No. As long as you never do anything that directly affects the people in a grossly negative way—”
“What if some of them would die by a decision I make?”
“As long as you knew in your heart it was for the greater benefit, it would be okay.”
“And…if, say, Nate was to swear to the throne, he’d have to do whatever I tell him?”
“No. The compulsion act only applies to orders of a certain nature,” Arthur said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you can give an order for Mike to, say, punch Falcon,” Morgaine started into the conversation. “And he can refuse. But if you compel him to obey, he would have to.”
“How do I do that?”
“It’s a kind of energy you use, so I'm told.”
“You will come to understand it once you’ve made your oath,” a man with a long grey beard said, bowing his head slightly.
“So, I can only use that after I'm sworn in.”
“No, it would work now, for those who have made an oath to the people—if they believe you to be the true ruler.”
“How do I do it—how do I compel someone?”
Arthur leaned forward, his arms on the table. “Request something of them as though you hold all authority. Ask as though you would bring all hell down on their soul if they did not do as you said.”
“Morgaine?” I turned to her.
“Yes, Majesty?”
“Can I try it on you?”
She rubbed the top of her arm, the place I knew she had the same marking as Jason. “Of course, Princess Amara.”
I took a breath and worked up the same tone my mum used on me when she was sending me to my room, and I would look in her eyes and know damn well if I didn't move it, she was going to start spitting green stuff, her head turning around on her shoulders. “Answer this honestly; do you believe any of the people at this table may be traitors?”
Everyone gasped, the energy in the room going tense.