Some nodded, some replied with a curt Yessir!. Arii remained silent, feeling the weight of the Commander’s gaze.
“I will be taking Miss Clearwater from you today, for a short stint in the training ring. I need to see what weapons sing best with our fresh blood here,” he nodded at her.
Without delay, Arii moved towards him, and he called to the others. “Muck the stalls and help load the carts. There is much to tidy after the King’s celebrations last night.”
As Arii accompanied the Commander from the quarters, her keen hearing picked up the protests of the recruits at having to be on clean up duty. She suppressed a smile, knowing she would feel much the same. After a particularly bloody job, she left the dirty work to a cleaning crew of Shifters. They would converge on the scene as rats, cats and small inconspicuous animals, then shift to their true forms and carry out the cleaning without prying eyes.
Brilliant… That had been Krepth’s idea.
The morning air was mild, the sky overcast with grey as Arii followed the Commander. The silence was heavy, and slightly uncomfortable – but Arii guessed the feeling was one sided. She felt on edge, eager to get away and fulfil her mission so that she could head home.
Servants bustled about nearby as they followed a neat path towards a structure with a gently pointed roof, the walls either side of the entrance hung with dark red drapery with gold lace, the family crest stitched into the heavy fabric.
They entered a stone-lined room with high ceilings and a centre marked with a ring chalk. On the far right was an impressive array of weapons propped on a wooden board.
Arii’s eyes found the daggers first, then slid to Hawke as he approached the stand. He picked out a polished sliver sword, lifting the weapon and surveying it with dark brown eyes. He turned and twisted his wrist, the sword whirring through the air before he pointed the tip at Arii.
“I figured you are already gifted with smaller blades, having studied the precision of the knife in the Kryvern’s skull,” he said without preamble, throwing the sword to her, hilt first. Arii caught the sword neatly, her brows narrowing as she curled her fingers around the smooth velvet hilt.
Keen eyed bastard, she thought, watching as Hawke drew his own sword and motioned to the ring in the centre of the room.
“Lucky shot,” was all Arii replied, canines pressed into the flesh of her tongue behind her lips.
Too keen eyed.
Hawke brandished his sword and it whistled through the air as he dropped into a fighter’s stance, hand raised to motion Arii forward. Arii stared, hesitant but not out of fear. Hawke was far too observant, and she knew she would have to act cautiously. From the round shells of his ears, Arii knew the man was human, perhaps aged in his mid-fifties.
It would be a shame to have to kill him…
When Arii entered the ring, Hawke wasted no time to begin his assault. His sword cut the air and headed directly towards her side. Her own sword jerked and met his with a metallic clang, and was soon defending her left side, then middle. She met him blow for blow, and the Commander twisted with a swiftness belied by his age, skill moulded from years of service. His strikes were like that of a cobra, aimed at her thigh and causing her to angle her sword to avoid the metal slicing her leg.
He was talented, she gave him that. Hence his title she supposed.
With a few more parries, the sound of metal on metal echoed throughout the training room to the beat of a silent rhythm.
After ten minutes of solid swordplay, Hawke slowed his advance and stepped back.
A slow smirk slid across his weathered features.
“Just as I thought,” he said, “Prior training with arms. Impressive.” He lifted the sword. “Where did you learn to fight like that?” he demanded, his tone serious but not unkind.
Breathing hard, Arii was surprised at the old man’s forwardness. She was not winded by any means, but she was not expecting the attack.
“Sword thrower at the circus…” she panted in response, her teeth flashing in a cocky grin. “Taught me the way of the sword every day, before swallowing them down his gullet for entertainment.”
She lifted a brow as the Commander blanched at her.
Cool it Arii, he is already suspicious of you… her mind hissed, and her grin vanished.
“Sir,” she finished, straightening her stance and lowering the sword.
“Truly impressive…” said Hawke, his chocolate eyes regarding her with a respect and curiosity he had not felt in a long while. “I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me a little more about your time before you were a servant?”
When he was met with a cool glare and a stoic expression, Hawke’s teeth flashed in a quick smile as he chuckled. “A woman of few words, I see. Well, more will be revealed in good time. Something tells me you are not the deep conversational type.”
Again, he was spot on, sharp and eagle eyed like his namesake.
He turned and surveyed the weapon stand, plucking out four daggers and turning to her.
“Show me again how you are with daggers, Miss Clearwater.”
~~~
The sun reached its zenith in the sky and was soon retreating to the tip of the hulking mountain range in the distance, bathing the land in the beginnings of a sunset before Arii and Hawke’s training was over. They had sparred for the majority of the day, having only paused for a break at midday for a bite to eat. Hawke’s keen eyes missing nothing as they tested each weapon on the rack, from daggers to a heavy headed mace, to a nasty looking club with spikes on the tip.
Arii performed best with the daggers of course, but also took well to a bow. She stared down the length of an arrow, eyes narrowed in concentration as the feathers from the fletching tickled her cheek. Hawke stood close by, his expression calm and patient. The duration of the training, Arii had held back her full potential lest the Commander become more suspicious than he already was.
Being a Fae had its perks - incredible reflexes, abnormal strength, hypnotic looks and the gift of magic – paired with years of vigorous training and discipline, she was the perfect killing machine.
Never in a million years would they allow a Fury within metres of the King. She had been so close last night, enough that she could smell the sweet wine on his breath, see the thickness of his lashes, the tiny dip in between the bow of his perfect lips.
The arrow loosed with a thwang and embedded itself in the hay target at the end of the training room. The arrow wobbled, having pierced the painted space just to the right of the blood red bullseye.
Arii’s eyes darkened. She hated holding back.
She was The Fate’s top assassin.
She never held back…
“Close,” murmured Hawke from the sideline, his arms crossed against his chest. “I think that is enough for today, recruit.” Slowly he approached her, his fingers twisting around the grip of the bow.
“I trust you remember the way back to the barracks while I tidy up here?” he said, eyeing her. Hawke knew she was distracted, seeing her movements deliberately held back.
Arii’s eyes lifted to the Commander, nodding curtly.
“Yes, thank you,” she said as she passed him the basket of arrows.
“Sir,” she added swiftly before bowing at the waist.
Manners… her mind chastised.
Eager to be anywhere but under his prying gaze any longer, Arii was swift to escape.
She made her way from the training arena towards the barracks, her eyes sweeping over the golden bathed castle grounds. The gardens were immaculate, filled with thick, lush green trees. The walls encircling the area were tall and solid, gold metal plating causing the sun to reflect across the trees nearby. Itching to explore, Arii wondered - if she were to slip to the King’s rooms and await sundown with a dagger in hand - one deftly stolen from Hawke’s
weapon trove and now snug against her thigh - would anyone notice? The few soldiers she had seen were busy marching about, their eyes more preoccupied with the castle walls and beyond than what was inside.
Arii’s keen eyes narrowed in on a black tuft of fur, just visible from behind a nearby stone wall.
Her brows shot up in curiousity. Did the royal family have animals on the grounds? She made a beeline towards it, then slowed as the tail was replaced with a long black muzzle. Following the muzzle was a large lupine head, mischievous green eyes fixed on her as the massive black wolf seemed to smile, white teeth flashing.
Krepth.
No normal wolf would grin at her that way.
Quickly she followed, the wolf slipping back behind the wall and out of sight. As she approached, she was greeted by the shadowy form of a man leaning casually against the masonry.
“Colour me impressed, little Fury!” Krepth said, his face splitting in a grin. “Your story will be told in taverns for ages! A meek serving girl single-handedly taking down a Kryvern. Brilliant!”
He chuckled, sweeping his body into a low, mocking bow.
“The King’s saviour, they are calling you. Who would have thought you’d ever be called such a thing?” He snorted a laugh. “You?!”
Arii’s lips twitched to a smirk.
“You’re lucky, Krepth. That Kryvern almost finished the job for me. The Fates would have been furious.”
Krepth winked slyly. “I never had a doubt, not even for a second.” He flicked her nose with his finger affectionately.
Growling and batting his hand away, Arii’s cheeks heated as Krepth pushed away from the wall. Despite her cold and withdrawn persona, he had always insisted on treating her like the little sister he’d never had. Krepth was only two years older than her – but this did not stop her from attempting to kick his arse from time to time.
The damn wolf was slippery, always evading her frustrated fists.
Now, those fists remained balled at her side, her lips pursing as he drawled on.
“I just came to check in, little Fury, and to remind you that time is of the essence.”
He slipped past her - to where, she had not a clue. Krepth went wherever he pleased, pacing casually with hands slipped in the pockets of his pants.
“He has a shadow,” Arii said to his back, and Krepth turned to face her. “The King, he has a bodyguard. I would suspect he will be a constant presence; one I was not counting on.”
Her friend’s lips parted in his usual charming, cocky smile.
“So… figure out a way to get the King alone.” His eyes roved over her plain recruit’s garb as he added, “Let a bit of that Fae magic shine through. He won’t be able to resist.”
Grinning slyly, the Shifter turned and sauntered off into the growing afternoon shadows, whistling a merry tune.
“Mutt…” Arii growled, before heading for the barracks. She knew Krepth was right, she had to get the King alone, then bury her dagger in his heart.
In her pocket she fingered the golden string of the Tapestry and twisted it around her finger, so tight it began to cut off her circulation.
Chapter Four
“Fuuuck, I hate horses!” groaned Tikkani as Emerson, Arii and a boy named Quinn headed towards the stables the next morning.
Emerson’s cheeks were scarlet, his eyes avoiding Arii’s as they walked. He proceeded to be incredibly shy around her, never striking up conversation or making any sort of eye contact. He also seemed embarrassed by his brute-mouthed sister, glancing at everyone apologetically every time a profanity erupted from her mouth. The twin siblings were opposite sides to a coin personality wise, but identical in appearance.
Quinn chuckled next to Arii. She had recognised him as the singer at the King’s celebrations. He was lanky in stature, dark tan skin and a mop of curly hair on his head. He radiated a calmness that put most of the other recruits at ease.
He was also a shameless flirt.
Arii had given not a single scrap of invitation, but the young man had not needed any as he dropped his arm over her shoulders and chuckled.
“Newest recruit gets to muck the stalls!” he hollered, and Tikkani clapped her hands in agreeance.
“Gods yes! That is the tradition, Arii. Like it or lump it,” she cackled madly, and Arii silently feared for the girl’s sanity.
Arii wondered if any of them had actually seen any sort of battle, ever felt the warm spray of a dying man’s blood on their face and the chorus of screams on a battlefield.
She thought probably not, if they screwed their noses up at horse shit.
As the group approached the stables, Arii felt a shift in the air.
Two guards exited the stables, closely followed by Valdis Kruel. He was clad in his usual fine attire, house crest pinned to the breast of his immaculate doublet. His eyes were like two emeralds as they narrowed at the recruits, obviously hearing their commotion on their way down the gravel road.
The group fell dead silent and stared, before the bodies around Arii bowed respectfully.
She followed suit, albeit a second later.
Valdis’ eyes were on her, and she felt the peculiar sensation of ants crawling over her skin as the man’s lips curled.
“His Highness the King is in the stables today. Return when he is done.”
But a moment later, a voice called from within the stables.
“Father, do not be rude! The recruits have a job to do. Allow them entry,” called King Lorch, which caused his father’s eyes to cloud.
“As you wish…” he growled and nodded to the recruits before swiftly stepping by them and heading towards the castle.
That man surely has a sword up his-
“Please enter, recruits,” called the King, and Tikkani’s eyes met Arii’s.
She saw fear in their depths.
Arii felt something foreign to her, the need to shield these naïve soldiers in training. She briefly wondered at what would light fear in the girl’s eyes, but it slid to the back of her mind as she thought it best to not leave the King waiting.
She was the first to move, leading the small group into the stalls.
They were quaint, so unlike the picture she had in her head prior to entering. She had imagined grand ceilings, gold laced mahogany stall doors and polished floors. Instead, she was faced with a cosy room with ten stalls leading to another wide-open door, covered by a low ceiling.
She blinked, surprised. She assumed everything in Viridya Castle was grand, gold and compensating for something.
Realising this may be a private building for the King and his family’s horses, she paused just within the doorway. The other recruits slipped past her to the racks to retrieve rakes and hoes, obviously knowing exactly where to begin.
Straight ahead stood King Lorch. He was dressed in a fine doublet of dark green stitched with gold thread and trousers of dark brown. The sun backlit his lean form in a golden halo of light, his thick copper hair swept up at the front, his blue eyes wrinkled at the edges.
Their eyes met and his teeth flashed in a cocky smile.
She had been staring… and he had noticed.
“Miss Arii Clearwater! What a surprise! Please join me, won’t you?” he said, motioning for her to follow as he paced into a nearby stall. Momentarily stunned, Arii kicked herself internally and followed. She entered the stall after the King and watched as Lorch lifted a brush and began stroking the coat of a caramel mare. Arii admired horses, and this one was indeed of incredible stock.
Its glossy wheat coloured mane shimmered in the morning light filtering through from the open doors. Muscles rippled beneath the animal’s silk coat as the beast huffed gently. Arii paused by the mare’s neck to stroke the animal’s soft, velvet muzzle as it turned its head to her inquisitively.
> “She likes you,” pointed out Lorch, his voice smooth and clear.
Arii’s eyes shifted from the mare to the young man as he drifted to her side, brushing the animal’s neck with care.
“Day Dancer is a good judge of character,” he said, head tilting towards her, lips quirking in a smile. “Besides, I told her all about my saviour… so that may have swayed her decision.”
He leaned towards her, his breath tickling her cheek. “I don’t suppose you would enlighten me on who you are, Miss Clearwater?”
Arii’s eyes drifted to his, one elongated canine pressing against her tongue. She knew she should speak; his expression was expectant.
So, she spun her carefully thought-out story with confidence, keeping her voice gentle as she said, “Before I was a servant, I grew up with a traveling circus…”
The King’s brows lowered over his eyes, their depths swimming with curiosity. “Truly? How did you end up catering at events from something as exciting as a circus?”
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched his long fingers continue to brush Day Dancer’s mane. “I would say the pay, but that would be a lie.”
Lorch huffed a laugh, causing her eyes to dart to his face. Their shoulders brushed, and she suddenly noticed how close he was.
So very close.
How easy it would be to pull him near, slide the dagger from her thigh and across his throat in one fluid motion…
Arii felt the air sizzle between them, and suddenly the moment was interrupted by a throat clearing from across the stall. Lorch went still, his eyes drifting closed. He blew out a sigh and tilted his head to the shadow lingering in the corner of the room.
The hooded bodyguard was standing with his arms folded across his broad chest, a frown of disapproval visible from under the fabric.
Of course, he was here.
Elijah… that was his name, was it not?
Love, Blood & Fury Page 5