Valiant (The Blood Trail Chronicles Book 3)

by AE Watson

  “A list?” Guy muttered. “I think we can manage that.” The weight of the request sat heavy in his stare.

  “I also need an idea of who to choose for the steward to care for Marana in Enderoth’s interest. If you have a list of people you think would be good for that, I’d be grateful.”

  “A steward and a new king.” Hans winced. “This might get exciting, lass.”

  “Oh, trust me, we are way beyond exciting.” I laughed and took a big gulp of ale.

  Vic brought out the pies. He was thinner than before and looked as if he’d aged. I imagined this was what all people who spent their time with Mabel looked like.

  “How’s it, Millia?” he asked as he placed them in front of us.

  “Better now. I’ve been thinking about your food since I last had it,” I said with a grin. “Mabel won’t be coming back. Hans and Guy are in charge of the inn now. Grayse is in the South. I don’t know when he’ll be back. You guys need to find Tim and give him his job again.”

  Vic’s eyes lit up. “Mabel’s gone?”

  “If you see her, or hear a whisper of her being around, you let me know.” I lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I believe ya will, Princess. Saw ya fighting in the arena. Never seen anything so fierce in all my life. I knew ya was trouble the minute I watched ya enter this inn. But I never imagined it was that kind of trouble. Enjoy your lunch.” He chuckled and walked back to the kitchen.

  I took a bite of the flaky pie and moaned. It was perfect. Hot, salty, creamy, and spiced impeccably. The meat was tender and juicy and the potatoes still had the slightest bite to them.

  We ate in silence.

  Perhaps it was the meal. Maybe it was the big changes coming for them both.

  I suspected it was that I had asked for a list of people to kill.

  Either way, it was nice to eat in peace with two people I trusted implicitly.

  Particularly, since I was about to go see two people I didn’t trust as far as I could throw them.

  Chapter 9

  Artan dropped down onto the dusty road in the middle of nowhere next to the large tree. He grunted and groaned as he glanced around us.

  “Trust me. This is better.” I kissed his snout and nodded my head to the side. “Off you go. I’ll meet you at their house.”

  He stared at me for a moment, fiery eyes flickering with doubt.

  “It’s fine. If they aren’t home, I’ll walk back to Watergate.” I insisted.

  He wanted to fly directly to the witches’ forest where I could just walk into their house. But I wasn’t comfortable sneaking up on them like that. There was also a chance Maddox was there. He could have easily come here before going to Firth. It hurt, but I had to respect his wishes.

  Artan grumbled his protests once more before jumping into the air and wafting up the dusty road.

  Hello!” I shouted into the small dust storm he had created. “Katy, Mani? You home?” I got louder as I drew nearer to the tree.

  “Bloody hell,” Mani cussed and reached out of the tree, dragging me into the house. “Why didn’t you come around the back? You nearly gave me a fright shouting like that from the road.”

  It had been months and yet it was as if nothing had changed between us. But something had. We were different. I wasn’t sure we would ever be the same again.

  And they knew it. Katy’s bright eyes sparkled with emotions she wasn’t speaking and Mani’s dark stare held anger. Maybe some of it was directed at me, but I imagined most of it was at themselves.

  “She didn’t want to see Maddox,” Katy muttered, reading my thoughts too clearly.

  “Maddox doesn’t want to see me and I am respecting his wishes,” I corrected her coldly.

  Katy’s dark eyebrows knit. “Why didn’t you ask Grayson to command Maddox’s mother? Rather than kill her?”

  The question was bold, considering where our relationship sat currently. I didn’t bother answering. “Have you heard anything about Grayson?”

  “He’s taken the Degha army,” Mani answered quickly as she sat at the small table and started to sort gems and stones which I had to assume was what she was doing before I arrived. “They’re no longer loyal to Anamay. Fantol is completely freed. It’s been bloody as far as we’ve been able to see scrying, but he’s done it. He is moving onto Altaros next and the land should be ready for the elves to return to if that is their desire.”

  “We see that it is,” Katy muttered as she began cleaning herbs in the small silver bowl on the counter.

  “That’s good news. Michael will be excited. At least one place is at peace.” I sat and ate one of the snap peas Katy had sitting in front of her. Hearing Grayson was still alive and fighting made me happier than any news had in a long time. “And did Maddox stop here on his way to Firth?” I asked the question I didn’t want to.

  “He did. He arrived in Firth yesterday. Ed sent a message. He’s agreed to their marriage and they will wed in a fortnight.” Katy smiled wide, her plump cheeks lifting and making her eyes squint. I used to adore her smile. Now I struggled not to scream in her face that all of this was their fault. But blaming them would eventually bring blame to my mother. And those were words I didn’t want to speak.

  “Will you make a doorway for Michael and Egar? They both want to attend the wedding but cannot afford the time to travel to Firth.”

  “Of course. We’ve already planned for this. Michael sent word he would need us.” Mani spoke as if it was unnecessary to ask. “Will you be attending?”

  I nearly shivered from the chill in the air between us. “Yes, I’ll be there but I won’t stay long.” I lowered my gaze. “Too much to do here.” The truth of my being an unwelcomed guest didn’t need to be spoken. “Michael has sent me here to clean up Watergate and help find a steward for the area. I have more work ahead of me than I’ve done since this started.”

  “You’re weary,” Katy whispered. “Why don’t you stay and rest?”

  “I’m fine. I just wanted to know about Grayson and the wedding.”

  “You should go to the castle,” Mani said, not bothering with the comforting or kindness Katy was struggling with. “Remove the royals and reclaim it for your brother and the people. We’ve heard the king remains there, with the King of Midland. Hiding and cowering in the shadows.”

  “Like the vermin they are,” Katy added.

  “When you’re done there, after the wedding, we need to take you to see our coven,” Mani said softly. Her dark eyes danced with emotions, but she didn’t give into them. “If you will agree. It’s time.”

  “Fine,” I muttered and stood, hiding my trepidation at the thought of meeting their coven. A group of people I had long wondered about.

  “Will we see you again soon, dear?” Katy asked, her stare wide and hopeful.

  “I don’t know,” I answered flatly and walked to the back door, leaving without saying anything else. My dislike of their lies and treachery would take more time to repair.

  I found Artan under his tree, curled up and resting. He opened one eye as I drew near. I decided to let him sleep longer and curled up with him, settling into his warmth and closing my own eyes.

  It wasn’t a real sleep but I rested long enough that the sun set for another day.

  Artan stirred and I got up, stretching and pulling on my swords and belt. “You ready?” I asked.

  He grumbled and grunted.

  “It might be better to let us open the doorway,” Mani said from under another tree, making me jump with surprise. Had she been here watching me sleep all along? “A dragon is sure to alert everyone who you are and why you’re there. But I know of a door into the castle that will not be guarded. The king has lost the support of the army but there are still enough who stand with him to protect his family and the castle.”

  I glanced at Artan, as if asking his permission. He grunted and I nodded. “Fine. But you fly high, in case I need you.” I kissed my friend goodbye and followed her inside. S
he closed the door to the cottage and drew on the wall next to it.

  “Be safe,” she said.

  “Okay.” I forced a pleasant look, almost a smile, and opened the magical doorway, stepping into the dark stone hallway of the castle.

  “Here.” Katy twirled her hand in the air and created a small ball of white light. She swooshed her hand forward and sent it floating to me.

  “Thanks,” I offered and stepped further into the dank corridor.

  The ball of light floated next to me, illuminating just enough that I might see how alone I was. Mani closed the door behind me and the wall sealed up.

  The floating light and I crept along the obviously underground tunnel until finally the air cleared a little and a small light shone from a hallway. I entered it and the ball of light disappeared. I followed the hallway to a set of narrow and decrepit stairs I assumed were intended for servants.

  I pulled one of my swords and listened as I climbed slowly, my heartbeat my only companion. At the top of the stairs, I found the scullery off the side of the kitchen. It smelled of mold and dirty water. There was a single candle lit in the corner, burned to almost nothing.

  Wondering if even a single staff member was working here, I made my way through the kitchens and into the dining hall. Nothing stirred. There was no one. It was deserted and in shambles. Filthy dishes and remnants of life lingered on surfaces and in corners but for the most part it felt abandoned.

  I used the servants’ stairs to get to the second floor, listening for someone, anyone.

  But it was silent.

  The castle felt haunted and cold, despite the warmth of the South. There were no windows open, allowing the breeze in from outside. The air was dank and musty.

  As I climbed the second set of stairs, I paused and looked out the vast circular window at the city below. The castle in Watergate was built on a small hillside and overlooked the whole city and harbor. The moon was nearly full and rising from the hills at the edge of town, toward the witches’ house. I imagined Artan would stare at it the same way I was.

  The city appeared different from the last time I paid attention to the landscape. There were less lights and chimneys billowing smoke.

  Watergate City had never done me any favors and yet, this made me sad.

  A sound caught my attention. I turned to the open foyer at the top of the stairs, hearing it a second time. It was a whimper.

  Leaving the moon behind, I climbed carefully, listening for where it came from.

  I passed bedrooms in the wide hallway, one doorway after the other. The family must have lived in this wing. Now the bedrooms were dark and empty with only a pale silvery light to make out the furniture.

  A smell hit me in the face as I passed one of the rooms. It was urine and sickness. Filth. The castle now smelled as badly as the streets. My stomach tightened at the intensity of it.

  Wincing, I continued on toward the whimpering which grew louder.

  Before the hallway could turn to the right and lead me to the back hallway and the next wing of the castle, I stopped and stared into the doorway where the sound came from. The smell was so bad my eyes watered as the whimpering drew my gaze to the far corner.

  Nothing could have prepared me for this.

  The smell should have but what I saw in the silver moonlight made me gag.

  Bodies lined the wall, dead people who had been dragged and forced to sit. The King of Midland was there, next to his wife and children.

  I stepped forward a little, into the doorway but the wooden floor beneath me was sticky with their blood and fluids. I glanced back the way I’d come, seeing the faint glisten on the wood where the carpet and rugs didn’t touch.

  The whimper forced me back to the room.

  I walked in, my breath bated and my heart racing.

  What was this?

  Who had done this?

  “Hello?” I whispered.

  “Mo-momma?” a small voice whined back.

  “Come to me,” I called, holding a hand out in the moon’s light.

  A sound of scratching and thumping startled me. I nearly stepped back in fear, terror I’d not felt in a long time.

  A child scratched along the wooden floor, dragging themselves which was how the thumping occurred. Scrambling, I grabbed a blanket from the bed nearby and hurried to the body that fought so hard to stand. It was a small boy, covered in blood and the gods only knew what else.

  I scooped him up, struggling a bit with his weight as I wrapped him tightly in the blanket. I turned, no longer moving slowly and raced back to the balcony I’d seen.

  The child cried as I moved him too sharply, but he was heavy enough that I grappled with keeping him in my arms.

  I forced open the door and stepped outside, screaming at the top of my lungs, “ARTAN!” His name got caught in my throat but I screamed again and again and again. I couldn’t whistle, not with my shaky breath.

  The sound of the wings and the warmth of his wind washed over us as I stared up into the night sky while my friend came to our rescue. I tried to lift the now sobbing child. “Take him to the witches,” I begged.

  He clasped his talons gently over the small boy and was gone, never landing on the balcony but plucking him from me.

  The boy cried, pleading as Artan flew cross the bright sky until they vanished from my sight.

  My eyes threatened tears but I swallowed the lump and turned back to the castle.

  Moving with ferocity and a need to discover the truth of this treachery, I hurried from room to room until I found and followed a blood spattered trail to the top of a turret. Hand marks on the stone walls led me in the dim light.

  The blood on the door handle was fresher than the rest of it in the castle.

  The warm wind of outside hit as I walked onto the high rise of the roof, nervous at the height of this unfamiliar place but fixed on the back of the man staring at the city. He was thin and haggard and his hair was long and filthy. I smelled him on the breeze before I saw him clearly.

  He turned, shocking me enough to make me gasp.

  It was the King of Marana. My uncle Errol.

  “You have to kill him, the boy, Niece. He’s my grandson. My direct line must end.” His words were hollow but the blade in his hands stained with the blood of his slain family spoke volumes. He was mad, crazed. “I thought he was dead. I thought they all were. When I heard you had come back, I knew why. I had to spare them your end.”

  “Spare them, Uncle Errol?” I gasped. “I wouldn’t have murdered them. Your family is mine,” I said and the wind carried my words to him as it did his to me.

  “Lies! You would have done much worse to them,” his voice cracked and he sobbed.

  “No, I wouldn’t have—”

  “You slaughtered the Benoits, down to the last woman!” he shouted, pointing his blade at me but his hand was uneasy.

  “I will save my cousin, your grandson and preserve your line,” I said, ignoring the feelings the name Benoit stirred in me. “Just as I did the Benoit family. Just as I would have done for the King of Midland, but you’ve already seen to that.”

  He scoffed but didn’t answer. “You’re a murderer,” he accused, as if we were not in the same rank.

  “Yes, I am. And I did come here to remove you, Uncle. Because you have failed my mother and your people. You haven’t regulated the gambling. You’ve allowed the rich to take advantage and the poor to starve. Your kingdom is in ruin.”

  He laughed and before I could turn and walk to him, he spun and jumped.

  I rushed forward, seeing him land with a show of color and flesh and bone. A guard cried out from below, and I realized how this would look. Quickly, I raced through the castle, taking the service stairs to the back. I ran until I reached the wall into the city and hid in the cover of darkness. I made my way to the beach and walked it, struggling with the rocks and the heat.

  When I was close to the inn, I sheathed my blades and snuck through the alleys to the inn. I ente
red through the dirty back alley into the kitchen. Vic scowled but nodded his head. “Back so soon?”

  “I am but if anyone asks, you didn’t see me.”

  “I never do,” he muttered and returned to peeling potatoes.

  In the foyer, Hans smiled from behind the front desk where he was looking at the books.

  “The king’s dead,” I said quickly.

  He lost his smile. “Already?”

  “It wasn’t me. He killed the King of Midland and his entire family. And then it looks as though he turned his blade on his own kin, save one grandson he failed to kill. I arrived in time to see the king jump from the turrets.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “He killed them.”

  Guy walked into the grand room, holding a towel as if he had been doing the laundry. “Did I hear that right?”

  I nodded, unable to say it all again.

  “Where’s the boy now?”

  “Artan took him to my aunts. They’re his aunts too. We’re related. They can heal almost anything,” I whispered, noting I shook as I spoke.

  “Ya have to get out of the city. They’ll blame ya.” Hans sounded worried for me.

  I blinked and the tears I had been holding back flooded my eyes. “No.” I shook my head and swallowed the pain of what I was about to say. “I have to let the world think I did that. The king’s friends and cohorts will flee the city if they believe me capable of this.”

  “Amillia, ya can’t let them think you’re a child murderer.” Hans gasped.

  His words brought a soft smile to my lips, though they trembled. “I am what the world thinks of me. I am capable of every sin I’ve been accused of, Hans. Michael will be the one who saves them and I will be the one who watches them.” I walked across the room to the stairs. When I reached the second floor, I hurried to the door where I shouted into the alleyway, calling for my friend to come and save me.

  It wasn’t the first time he swooped low into the alley, and I jumped onto his back from that inn.