Byron held his hands up and lowered them, hushing the crowd. “Good people of Anthena, I know that I have been absent in the hour of your need, and for that, you have my sincerest apologies. But rest assured I have been working tirelessly to secure the safety and future of this great land.”
Emily was incensed; the only tireless work being put in was by Roserine. She looked to Roserine, hoping to find an ally in her outrage, and was surprised to find her smiling as she watched her brother crow on about his faultless leadership.
Byron continued on, passing decrees and granting reassurances. “Let it be known that every citizen over the age of thirteen should have on them, at all times, a weapon with which to protect themselves and those closest to them. It doesn’t have to be a blade. Let it be a hammer or a stick. Just know how to use it, should the need arise.”
“You conscript our oldest and now you’re telling us that our youngest have to take up arms as well?” The man’s bright blue eyes stood out against his tanned skin.
“Your frustration is noted and deeply understood. Rest assured, we will once again come to a day where such displays are not warranted. But these are the dark days. The days where we’re forced to swing at shadows; the shadows are many and I need everyone swinging.”
“Why wait for the shadows to come to us? Most of the men I know are willing to bring the fight to them.” Aggressive clapping, raised fists, and calls for blood rose up around the man and grew steadily louder as his words spread like wildfire.
Byron looked taken back by the reaction of the crowd.
“Citizens of Anthena.” He was gently pulling back on the reins. Best not to seem desperate. Best not to spook them. Let them buck and kick. Tire them out. “It’s not that simple. Trust me, I wish it were.”
“Seemed simple enough for them to come over our walls and kill our boys!”
More shouting.
More clapping.
“We have every option on the table and will fill you in when the time is right.” The response was a sea of weary groans and shaking heads. Byron pivoted and began talking about the compensation the families of the slain would receive and the crowd quickly died down.
Roserine turned to Emily. “One might almost mistake him for a King.”
Almost, Emily thought, almost.
8
“He’s lucky to be sleeping in his own bed tonight and not in the dungeons. Who did he think he was, challenging me like that?” Byron had been ranting about the blue-eyed man for the past hour as the kitchen staff circled the dining table, removing empty plates and replacing them with full ones.
“I imagine he thought himself a citizen, free to speak his mind without fear of persecution.” Roserine raised her eyebrows and dropped a piece of lamb into her mouth, licking the grease quickly from her fingers.
Byron propped his elbows on the table and began massaging his temples. “Why does everything have to be so difficult?”
“Welcome to the life of a king. You’ll find yourself asking that question a lot.”
“If I give them what they want and we charge out after the Eval, men will die and they will hate me. If I don’t give them what they want and we shore up our defenses, they’ll declare me a coward and they will hate me. There’s no winning.”
Roserine wiped a rogue grain of rice from her lips with her index finger. “You mean there’s no winning for you. You’re missing the point. It’s not about you winning. If you’re sitting on the throne waiting for them to throw flowers at your feet, you’re in for a great disappointment. It’s about leadership. Sometimes there is no right or wrong decision. Sometimes there’s just a decision. Your duty is to make that decision. You’re right, some of them will gripe and complain, others will praise you, but at the end of the day, they all want the same thing: to be led.”
“Still,” Byron was slicing through the lamb with a stone-handled knife, “being King should not be without its pleasures.”
“Nothing in life should be. The dockworker takes pleasure in the sun on his face and the sea breeze in his nostrils. The bartender takes his pleasure from a sip of perfectly balanced spirit. And you take your pleasure in leading your people, in doing your duty. A wife would probably help with that as well. But you’ve got to meet someone first and that requires you staying on this side of the wall. Think you can manage such a strenuous task?”
Byron stared at his plate, stirring the food with his fork as he slowly worked his jaw back and forth, grinding his teeth.
“Where are you right now?” It was a question she asked often when it came to things concerning her brother.
“Why do you think it is that Dad never remarried after Mom was killed?”
“I honestly don’t know, Byron.”
“I think it’s because he could no longer handle the pain of loss. Eirik once surmised that it was because he had no more love left to give, but I don’t think that’s it. We’ve always got love to give. We need to love. We need to be loved. It’s part of who we are. It’s a losing game either way, isn’t it? Love always has a price: loss. You can choose to pay it or live a life of isolation.”
“Byron, you’re not Father. We’re in this together; you, me, the citizens of Anthena. It’s not your job to protect everyone. You simply have to lead and make sure they have the resources to protect themselves. It seems like a heavy burden now, but when you settle in and take a wife, the load will lighten. Whoever takes the throne beside you will do so with eyes wide open, ready to conquer the challenges ahead; Anthena doesn’t breed weak women.”
Byron stood suddenly.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m absolutely beat. My head is swimming. I think I just need to call it a night.”
“I can expect to see you at the mine tomorrow, yes?”
He stopped and turned on his back heel, appearing puzzled. “For what?”
“You’re due to meet with the survivors of the attack, remember? You’ll shake some hands and let them know you’re thinking about them. Remember that whole leadership thing we just talked about?”
He nodded, oblivious to what she was saying. “Yeah, listen, I know you’re not going to like this—”
“If you say you have business beyond the wall, so help me—”
“It’s just one last time, I swear to you. I need to satisfy my curiosity.”
“Your business is here! What curiosity could you possibly have?”
“You know I can’t talk about it.”
“You won’t talk about it, there’s a difference.”
“Because it doesn’t concern you, dear sister.”
“By the gods, it most certainly does!” She came around the table and stood toe-to-toe with him. “I’m the one that has to clean up after you! Don’t you stand there and tell me it doesn’t concern me!”
“You go in, you shake hands, you smile, you make promises that you know we can’t keep, and then you move on with your day. How hard can it be?”
“Men died! How dare you trivialize that!”
“Men die! This land is propped up on their bones!” He pounded his chest, spittle flying from his lips. “Now I’m through explaining myself. I rule Anthena, not you. That means you listen to what I say. You do not question. You do not challenge.” A vein pulsed on his forehead. “If it were anyone else acting so indignantly I’d have them put in chains. But I have my limits. You’d be unwise to test them further.” He stopped at the door and spoke over his shoulder. “While you’re off comforting the widows, I’ll be ensuring the Eval can’t make more of them.”
Eirik walked into the kitchen from the outer bailey as Byron stormed away. “Is everything okay?”
“Eirik, may I have a moment?” She leaned against the table, the heat of her brother’s words still boiling her blood.
“Of course, my lady.” Eirik scratched at his bushy goatee. He looked tired from a day of plugging defenses and training new recruits.
“I want you to follow him tomorrow.
Find out where he goes.”
He shook his head. “You’re asking me to spy on the King, to do something that violates the oath I swore—”
“You swore an oath to Anthena! Not to him!” She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “Most days that throne sits empty. How many crimes and disputes have you had to mediate? How many broken trade agreements have I had to piece back together? I’ve lost count. Those are his duties, yet here we are. Where was he during the attack?” She shrugged, hands turned toward the ceiling, looking around the room as if she expected to find an answer. “With the Eval activity, it’s not safe for Byron to go venturing beyond the wall. So this is a concerned sister, your lady, asking you to keep an eye on him…asking you to protect the King of Anthena. That is your duty, correct?”
He dipped his head. “It is.”
“So protect him.”
“I’ll send two of my best men to—”
“No. It has to be you. I trust you with this, Eirik. You can bring one man, but you lead.”
“Very well, my lady.”
After Eirik left, she took a seat and attempted a few more bites of food. But her stomach churned and her head throbbed. Soon she gave up and retired to her room.
9
Emily and Coen were lying naked and entwined on the bottom floor of the lighthouse atop a stack of burlap sacks; heads together, bodies slick with sweat, listening to the waves crash across the nearby rocks.
“That was something,” Emily said.
“Aye, it was.” Coen was beaming.
“Not sure what came over me.” Emily laughed, bringing the back of her hand to her forehead.
“Well, whatever it was, I am grateful.”
Her thoughts were still clouded by bliss. “What happens now?”
He began running the sole of his foot up her calf. “I’m ready when you are.”
She could feel his stiffness prodding her stomach. “You’re insatiable!” She shoved him back gently. “I meant what happens with us? Was this just a onetime thing?
Coen leaned back on his elbow. “Do you want it to be?”
“No. That’s not what I’m saying. I’ve just heard some things.”
“Like what?” He wasn’t playing coy; he looked clueless as to what things she was referencing.
“What about Ina?”
“Ina?”
“Now you’re going to say you don’t remember?” She sat up and wrapped one of the sacks around her breasts and torso. She was quite the fool it seemed. She’d shaken off logic and reason, had gone against her gut, and had become yet another notch on his belt, a belt with so many notches that he’d lost count of them.
“No! Wait!” He placed a calloused hand on her thigh. “I truly have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She shook him off and came to her knees, searching the floor by pallid moonlight for her castoff clothes. “The girl you screwed behind the smithy.”
“Who’d you hear this from?”
“Does it matter?” She found her blouse, wrapped it over her shoulders, and began lacing the front.
“If I’ve got an accuser, don’t you think I at least deserve to know their name?”
She stopped lacing, her fingers still holding the strings, observing his outline in the semi-darkness. “Lilly told me.”
“Lilly? Lilly Birtchsand? Skinny girl with a scar below her right eye.”
“I don’t see what her appearance has to do with this, but yeah, that’s her.” His laughter was momentarily drowned out by a large wave crashing against the rocks outside. “I fail to see what’s so funny.”
“Lilly Birtchsand has been pursuing me for years. Her father offered me a substantial dowry last year if I would agree to marry her. When I refused, that entire family turned on me. They’ve been taking every chance at their disposal to trash my name and reputation to whoever is willing to listen. It seems they caught your ear. Did you ever consider asking for my side of the tale?”
Emily sank to her haunches, hollowed out by Coen’s words.
“If you need to go, then go. I’m not going to stop you. I’ve enjoyed our time together, regardless. I just wish you would have talked to me before assuming the worst.” He began dressing to leave.
“Wait,” she blurted out, falling down beside him. “I’m sorry. I’ve never done anything like this before, okay.”
“Had sex in a lighthouse? Me neither.”
“I’m trying to be serious, Coen. This is hard for me to say.”
“I’m sorry, go on.” He took one of her hands in his; the warmth stood in stark contrast to the chill the rest of her body felt.
“I never saw this for myself. You remember what you said at the tavern, about me being more than just the lady’s handmaiden? I haven’t been able to shake it. It’s like there’s this piece of me that I just now realized has been missing and the only time I feel complete is when I’m with you.”
“Emily, I—”
“No, let me finish.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “You know, I’ve seen so many good people die; people I loved. I remember when the lady’s mother was killed and I saw what it did to her…what it’s still doing to her. From the moment I started apprenticing, my focus has been on her, on serving her, on serving Anthena. But now I think it’s more than that. When I saw you today, wearing that uniform, all I could think…” A rush of emotion hit her; she blinked away a thin curtain of tears and remained silent until she was confident her voice would hold. “It’s a lot simpler when you’ve got nothing to lose. I like you and if we take this further and I lose you—”
His lips locked across hers, stilling the words in her throat. “You’re not going to lose me. In fact, I’ve already been given my post. I’ll be patrolling the market and docks; safest post in Anthena. It’s not what I wanted, but I suppose I have to pay my dues.”
She hugged him tight around the neck; Roserine had come through. “That’s good news! That’s such good news!”
“Whoa, don’t get too excited. I’m hoping to work my way up to the wall, eventually.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
“So what happens next?” He was sitting beside her, still embracing her, his hips touching hers, his chin on her shoulder.
“That’s my line.”
“Was this a onetime thing?”
“That’s also my line,” she said, poking his nose with her index finger.
He kissed her. “It’s not a onetime thing for me.”
“Me neither. But I expect to be treated like a lady: flowers, wine, a proper date every now and then.”
“And the occasional screw in the lighthouse?”
She laughed. “Absolutely.”
“You deserve nothing less.”
With those words spoken, they fell backward in each other’s arms and made love until the sun began cresting the horizon.
10
Byron woke early and left the castle. The first waves of heat were just beginning to penetrate the chill left behind by the night. As he moved toward the stables to retrieve his horse, the argument with Roserine rang fresh in his mind. His temper had gotten the better of him. He owed her a well-rehearsed apology. But that’d come later. He was steady in the course he’d set. There were no doubts. No regrets. He knew that Roserine would understand once everything came together. To lead Anthena to victory against the Eval would mean having Aurora beside him. She could grant them unprecedented insight into the Eval’s strategies and tactics. She could open dialogue between their two sides, perhaps even negotiate peace. More importantly, he loved Aurora. He loved her more than he’d ever loved anything.
More than Anthena.
Even more than Roserine.
He’d leave everything behind to be with her; live in the fields and sleep beneath the stars.
He pulled his horse from the stable and stepped from the outer bailey into the open meadow. To his left, far below, trade ships hovered just beyond the port, waiting for the dock crew to help them mak
e anchor so they could unload their cargo. Most of Anthena’s citizens would just be rubbing the sleep from their eyes; women getting the kids ready for classes, the husbands suiting up to work the mine or to take their watch on the north wall. A contingent of soldiers passed him as he pulled his horse toward the wall; they saluted him and mumbled greetings.
“Your Majesty.”
“Mornin’, my King.”
“Gentlemen.” Byron returned their gesture.
The meadow was empty except for the soldiers and the cattle. The grass rustled around his calves as he pulled his horse along, stifling a yawn. The north wall towered above him. Four men, carrying spears in their hands and swords on their hips, stared down from the edge of the wall and announced his approach. Byron pulled himself into the saddle as the gates peeled back before him. He saw a sprawling field of tall, green grass dotted with trees and blooming, yellow flowers. What he didn’t see was Eirik and another soldier, stepping from the outer bailey, pulling horses behind them.
***
Roserine rode out to the mine on horseback with a contingent of four guards trailing behind her. She’d waited in the courtyard for Emily, but had grown impatient and left without her. Her blood was still simmering from the previous evening’s feud with Byron. She was hoping he’d slept it off and had come to his senses, but she’d awoken to find his horse gone from the stables. The only solace she found was in Eirik’s absence; he’d followed her instructions—for once—and had pursued Byron.
The ride to the mine was uneventful: soldiers patrolling the wall to her right and a bustling kingdom sloping toward the ocean to her left. She passed through clusters of sheep and cattle and around women carrying jugs of milk and pushing carts filled with furs and freshly butchered slabs of meat.
A crew of soldiers and dirty-faced workers were waiting for her at the mine. No one smiled at or cheered her arrival; they seemed tired, beaten down, and scared. She pulled her horse up and slid from the saddle. She moved through the small crowd and shook each hand as she thanked them for their commitment to Anthena and commended them for the bravery they’d demonstrated in the face of aggression. Many of them wore swords and daggers on their hips, one older man, with boulders for fists, carried a club adorned with rusty nails.
Blood & Stone: The Saboteur Chronicles Book 3 Page 7