CH782 · Rewrite
☕ Support

Chapter 782: Say Goodbye

Along the way she passed her clansmen moving in both directions with bags on their backs, their faces carrying the particular grief of people who know they are leaving a home and cannot pretend otherwise. Since Wildflame had fallen to third rank, they would be reassigned to the smaller quarters in Stone Castle. Those lower still on the ledger would be moved to the campsites beyond the castle walls — still within Iron Sand City, technically, but cut off from the central oases, the good land, the stone-rimmed water. The big clans had always held those.

Lorgar memorized their faces and stored them somewhere below thought.


The guard outside her father’s room broke into a grin the moment he saw her. “Princess — you’re healed!”

“Good as I was.” She kept it light. “Is my father inside?”

“Lord Chief is always in his room, but —” The man hesitated. “He’s not alone.”

She had a fair guess who. She didn’t ask.

Then the voices reached her through the closed door.

“We settled this already. Your clan vacates the main castle in three days — so why are you still here? Are you defying the vow of the Three Gods?”

A second voice, tighter with barely restrained anger: “Watch your tone, Kabucha.” That was Rohan, her oldest brother. “You’ve absorbed the Black River clan — make them clear out first. We can’t share space with people still in mourning. White linens on every wall.”

“Send your men to tear the linens down. Our Lord Chief wants results, not your excuses.”

“You —”

“Your clan conceded the holy duel. You have no standing to lecture us. Your chief hasn’t spoken and you’re raising your voice? Stand aside.”

More voices joining in — Exactly, accept it or we’ll beat you again — and then the clean ring of steel leaving scabbards.

Lorgar reached the guard just as his hand moved to his own weapon.

“Leave it to me.”

“But —” He read her face and lowered his head. “I understand, Princess.”

She pushed the door open.

The Wildwave warriors stood with their arms crossed, unmoved by the blades at their throats, their posture saying plainly: you won’t swing them. They were right. Rohan and the guards had drawn to intimidate, and intimidation against men who weren’t afraid was only weakness made visible.

Guelz Burnflame sat behind the square table, firelight moving in his eyes. The room went quiet.

“Put away your weapons.”

The Wildwave men looked at her. Then they looked again, differently.

Guelz smiled. “Finally. You’re awake.”

“Sister — you —” Rohan’s voice broke somewhere between shock and something harder to name. He stared at her as though tallying whether to believe it. “No — I mean — this is —”

She understood quickly: their father had told no one. The maid who had tended her knew, and Rohan didn’t. The Wildwave warriors certainly didn’t.

“Lo — Lorgar? Weren’t your legs —”

“Crushed and bloodied, I saw it myself —”

“Those ears — that tail — what is she —”

“She’s a monster!”

Lorgar crossed the room without altering her pace and stopped in front of the Wildwave warriors. “Whatever she is, Wildflame yielded in the holy duel on the Burning Stage. The Three Gods witnessed it. You know the rule as well as I do — six months before the yielding party may challenge again.”

The tension in their chests loosened slightly. Then she kept talking, and it tightened again.

“We accept the result. We honor the Three Gods.”

A beat.

“Now — which one of you is Kabucha?”

The head of the warriors had no good choice but to step forward. “That’s me. And since you’ve just agreed to respect the outcome, you should move out immediately. You’re no longer the strongest clan. Why are you still clinging to this castle?”

The answer was a right hook.

Kabucha was a competent fighter. Against a fist he could see, he might have answered it. Against wolf claws that had already closed the distance, he had no time at all. He cleared the doorframe and landed in the corridor in a heap, blood already spreading across his face.

The remaining warriors stared. None moved.

“Even dropped to third rank, the Wildflame chief commands respect — especially on his own ground.” Lorgar’s voice was even. “That punch was a lesson in manners. Now get out. All of you.”

They went. They carried Kabucha with them, and they said nothing.

The moment she had walked into the room, the calculation had shifted. Wildwave’s confidence rested on numbers absorbed from the Black River clan. They weren’t afraid of the holy duel, weren’t afraid of a private challenge in six months. But a living Princess Lorgar was a different problem — the giant Desert Wolf, moving at her own discretion, could erode them injury by injury in the months ahead. The rules of the duel didn’t govern that.

And in the Sand Nation, revenge was as sacred as any vow.


“Father.” Rohan’s voice was bright now, almost giddy. “Now that sister’s healed, can we move back to the Stone Castle in six months? Or can you negotiate with the Wildwave chief directly — he has to know they can’t win the next duel —”

“Yes, the Prince is right —”

“Let me go stop everyone who’s packing —”

“And throw out the Wildwave clansmen still lingering —”

“Tell them to take their things when they go —”

The voices tumbled over each other, cheerful and certain.

Guelz Burnflame coughed softly. He looked at Lorgar and waited.

The room went still. Everyone turned. Rohan stood among them, jaw slightly set, his eyes carrying a shadow she didn’t want to examine too carefully.

She took a breath and said it clearly: “Father. I’m leaving. I came to say goodbye.”

Discussion

Suggest a change