Chapter 58: A Gift of Cards

    It took every ounce of Arthur’s hard-forged determination and self-control not to shove the card in his heart right then and there.

    Instead, feeling every mote of him protest the action, held it out to his father.

    Calvan, however, had turned his head away.

    “I can’t.”

    “Why not?” Arthur demanded, all but pushing the card at him. “Do you know what this is?”

    “Of course I do,” he said sharply. “Arthur, I made a promise to my king not to take any cards, and a binding oath not to leave. I did this in exchange for my family’s life.”

    “Mom and my sister are dead!”

    “And you’re not.” The fire that had been missing in his father’s eyes had returned — banked, but not completely dead yet. “My word means something. This place has cost me everything except for you, and my pride. I refuse to exchange it for power.”

    If it was possible, Arthur would have tried to shove the card into his father’s heart. But he knew that was the sort of thing that had to be voluntarily accepted. It was one thing to rip a card out of an anchor tattoo, but the heart was another matter.

    “If that’s the case, why did the baron’s men bother searching you for cards?” he asked, frustrated. “It’s not that you can’t, you won’t!”

    His father remained pinched lipped and stubborn. “Not everyone is required to swear an oath, and even less to their King. To some, breaking their word and taking a card is worth it. Not to me.”

    “Dad—“

    A thump to the side interrupted Arthur.

    Lena had fallen to her knees, hands clasped in front of her. “Milord, I beg for you to share your generosity. Not to me. I know, thanks to my crimes, I’m not worthy. But I have two girls. They’re barely thirteen, milord. They’ve done nothing wrong, and it’s only luck that they’ve lived this long...”

    “Please stand.” Arthur reached to help her to her feet, feeling sick. While he had been arguing with his father, he let himself forget others would welcome a card — any card. “Of course I’m sharing these around.” He glanced at his father, frustrated. “Why do you think I came here?”

    Lena blinked. So did Calvan.

    “I can give your girls a card.” Arthur held up the thick stack. “There’s more than enough to go to the children who can have them — and anyone else who is willing to leave.”

    The next second he was holding a sobbing woman. Lena clutched at him, almost hysterical with joy. “Thank you! Thank you!”

    Unsure what to do, Arthur looked at his father for support. Calvan shook his head.

    “It’s not that easy, son. The Baron’s men won’t allow that to stand here. If any child takes a card, they must leave for their own safety.”

    “I’m counting on it.” Gently, Arthur disengaged himself from Lena. Thankfully the woman was visibly trying to pull herself together again. “The hive needs dragon riders. Or, if any prefer not to fight, they can live better lives than here in the hive city. Carded lives.”

    The girls hugged their mother goodbye, though it was obvious to Arthur that they didn’t quite understand the full scope of what was happening to them. Like Arthur, neither could imagine what life would be like outside the border village.

    However, their acceptance was all Arthur needed. He placed his hands on their shoulders. A moment later, they disappeared.

    Lena stared at the place where they had been. She looked at Arthur. “Do you think I will ever see them again?”

    “Count on it,” Arthur said. “I don’t know how or why, but I’m coming back. And I intend to get people out.”

    There was a soft knock at the door. Calvan opened it to find a haggard couple standing outside with three sickly children in tow.

    Not every child received a card. Arthur had no stone to determine when someone was mature enough. So he only risked handing out the cards to the teenagers.

    Some parents flatly refused to be separated from their young children, though they happily accepted the boxes of food. Others practically pushed babies into Arthur’s arms — sometimes with tears, sometimes with grim determination.

    It was a lucky thing he was able to place the babies into his storage with their parent’s permission. The line seemed to be drawn around three or four when the children had limited capability to reason.

    Twelve children came in all. Five of them were able to accept cards.

    There were no adults. Likely because those who could leave had already done so during the scourge-sickness.

    When the last family was gone, Arthur was left in the cabin with his father. Arthur removed his card stack, reserved the Legendary and one of the Rares, added the Full Body Bind card he took from Otto the guard, and pushed the stack to his father.

    His father stared at the cards on the table. “What do you want me to do with these?”

    “Spread them to other children of the nearby border towns — whoever’s about to be eighteen and wants to leave. Or give them to the bandits nearby. Don’t pretend like you don’t have contact with them,” Arthur said with a smile.

    His father didn’t smile back. “Won’t you need them?”

    “I can’t afford to be caught with them. My storage is supposed to keep most Seekers at bay, but I can’t guarantee how hard the duke will search. And I can’t fence these cards locally.” Arthur shook his head. “Best case, I can sell them for coins. But here... these cards will change lives.”

    Arthur took a breath. “All I ask is that you keep one of the Rares for yourself. Hide it far in the woods — past beyond what any Seeker could sense. That way if I ever find a solution to unbind your oath...” He trailed off.

    Calvan didn’t answer. He only stared at his son, his eyes wet.

    “Can you do this for me?” Arthur asked.

    “Yes.” Then, his father held out a hand for him to shake.

    Bemused, Arthur did so.

    Their hands clasped, then Calvan jerked him into a hug.

    Though his father’s arms weren’t as strong as he remembered, they were more than good enough.