Bailey Baz's Arc

Chapter 40 of 44

The mud dried between the throne room stones by morning. Bailey stood on the steps where Finn had melted away. His people had watched him speak the swamp's tongue. Now they filled the yard below, hundreds of them, silent, staring up at their king. He could feel their fear like a cold draft. Cora stood at his shoulder. "Show them," she said. "Not the swamp. You." Bailey pulled the purple cloak from his shoulders and held it up. The golden crest caught the light, two lions and the letter of his true name. "I was the boy who guided your lost children through the marsh," he said. "For a hundred years I carried them out of the water. I did not age. I did not stop. I am Prince Colton Fenwick, and I turned the swamp aside to save this city." He fastened the cloak again. A murmur ran through the crowd. Then an old woman near the front knelt. A soldier followed. Then the whole yard went down like grass in wind. Crane climbed the steps, his gray whiskers stiff. The old marshal had defected from the dead King to stand with Bailey. He surveyed the kneeling crowd. "They believe now," he said. "But belief is soft. The loyalists are what's left to break." He nodded toward the far wall. Tyrek and Rufus dragged the last of them forward in chains. Bone pendants swung from their necks. Tyrek shoved the prisoners onto their knees. His scarred young face was hard. He had bled for Bailey at the chapel and the wayhouse, and he showed no mercy now. "That's all of them," Tyrek said. "Every pendant in the palace. Every one who took the old King's coin." Rufus stood behind him, red beard bright, his gentle trapper's hands closed for once into fists. He said nothing. He only watched to be sure none slipped free. Bailey looked down the line and stopped. At the end knelt Joryn. His massive cousin, the stablehand who had stolen his mother's pages, who believed the throne was his by blood. Joryn did not look away. "You'll hang me now," Joryn said, slow and low. Bailey came down the steps and stood over him. "You wanted the throne because it was owed you. I understand owed." He drew the enchanted sword. Joryn tensed. Bailey cut the ropes at his wrists instead. "My great grandfather's brother was your great grandfather. That makes you family. I won't kill family for wanting what was taken from him." Joryn rose, rubbing his wrists, staring. "Why?" "Because I need someone who fights for what's his," Bailey said. "Stand with me. Or leave. But choose now." Joryn dropped to one knee. "With you," he said. "Cousin." Bailey sheathed the sword. The loyalists were caught. His people knelt. Joryn had crossed to his side. The throne was truly his now. Then he realized he just became the swamp. All the wars were over. He could finally stop searching for answers and rule. He recognized that Finn was his father. Malachar was not just his uncle, but Finn’s brother. It all came back to him in a rush as if the swamp was telling him the truth of all his history at once. His mother, Princess Ganeyra Marshwen, loved Finn Fenwick, but Malachar loved Ganeyra. Ganeyra chose Finn and they had a child. Malachar killed the child known as Prince Colton. Finn sacrificed himself to the swamp that his brother controlled to settle a trade for his son’s life. Princess Ganeyra, almost two years later, found a way to bring Finn back to life for one day, and that led to Cora being born. The Finn that Bailey washed out today was not his father, but Malachar portraying himself as Finn. This time Malachar had been defeated for good and was unable to return. Bailey’s father, Finn, would finally be able to rest in peace.