Screw it. "Go find Jax and Locke. Tell them to meet me at the southern border in ten minutes."
"I'll send them and five others—"
"No," I said, turning to face him. "I need thieves, not soldiers."
"But—"
"I don't have time to argue," I said, running by him. "Do as I say."
After a quick stop at the weapons hut for knockout powder and a crossbow, I ran as fast as my feet could take me, a thousand different thoughts running through my mind. Mostly, that my movements weren't accompanied by the telltale whistles. We had no scouts in the trees, and so I had no idea what had been passing through my forest. Oh, but if we'd missed our one chance to catch the ond… All because I was too chicken to tell Jorad what to do.
I'd berate myself later; now, I needed to focus.
I arrived at the southern border, the dark open fields of Forcadel behind me. I shimmied up an old oak, resting in the branches and letting the foliage hide me. I settled in and waited, listening for the sound of hooves and carriages.
Instead, I got a pair of whistles. A shadow in the tree behind me, and one in front. Jax and Locke, just as I'd asked for. Finally, something had gone right.
The familiarity of this situation wasn't lost on me. Up in the trees, Locke in the next tree over, Jax whistling at me to pay attention. We'd all been here three years ago, the night I'd killed for the first time. It had been my first mission, and it had gone terribly wrong.
But as Nicolasa said, doing the wrong thing enough times taught me how to be different. I was confident that I could subdue whomever was in this carriage without killing them. I was confident in my aim. Confident in myself.
Jax's whistle echoed through the forest. Pay attention, idiot.
I cast him a look then readied the crossbow on the tree branch. I sent a silent prayer that there would be only a few guards, and we could resolve it without too much of a fight.
The sound of squeaking wheels reached my ears first, then the carriage made its appearance. There was one coachman on top with two large horses pulling what appeared to be a massive wagon. It could've been laden with ond, or it could've been filled with soldiers.
Jax whistled for me to prepare for my shot, and I caught his eye, nodding. With care, I aimed for the spot above the coachman's shoulder and released my arrow. The knockout powder did its job, and the man slumped over, even as the horses kept walking. Jax jumped from the tree to grab the reins, and Locke and I landed on the ground.
The carriage stopped and my heartbeat quickened as the door opened. I held up my crossbow. "Turn around and go back to Niemen. Your ond isn't wanted here anymore, and I doubt Queen Ariadna gave you permission to send it."
A familiar face popped out. "Brynna?"
I blinked. "Luard?"
The prince of Niemen—blond, handsome, tall, and mischievous—stepped out of the carriage, wearing a look of confusion. "You're the one accepting ond?"
"No?" I said. "You're the one bringing it to Beswick?"
"No?"
At that, we both grinned and walked toward each other. "Seems as though we had a similar mindset about these things," Luard said. "Shall we have a chat?"
Relief of all kinds swam in my mind, especially as his other guards Ivan, Asdis, Nils, and Hagan appeared from behind the carriage, too. "Nothing would make me happier."
Chapter 29
Luard and I walked arm-in-arm into the camp, much to the surprise of Jorad and the rest of the soldiers. Where there were small gatherings of Forcadelian soldiers still awake at this hour, I introduced them to Luard. They saluted him with the appropriate reverence and seemed pleased that he was there. More manpower was surely welcome in this idiotic scheme we were undertaking—and it was hard to be mad around Luard.
"I don't have princely accommodations for you," I said with a small grimace. "I can find you the softest bed, though."
"What about that place?" Luard asked, pointing to the hut with the smoke curling out of the top of it.
"That's Celia's hut," I said. "She's still in there."
"Why? Didn't you say you took over her camp?"
"I did, but…" I shook my head. "I'm trying to limit my liabilities."
"Is she cute?"
I did a double take. "What?"
He shrugged. "I'm not above sleeping with criminals."
"She's a bit old for you," I said with a frown. Was he seriously considering this or just messing with me?
"Brynna, my love is for all women, young and old," he said, covering his heart.
"You are certainly welcome to try," I said with a nervous laugh. "But I have a feeling she wouldn't go for it."
"Fine, fine. The sleeping house it is." He cast a curious gaze at the hut. "But I do find it odd that you're leading this rebellion, yet letting your defeated foe sleep in what's rightly your place. At the very least, put her in a prison."
"She's out of the way," I said quickly. I already knew what Luard would say if we delved deeper into this subject, so I was hoping we could avoid it. "C'mon, let's go to my office so we can talk further."
I hadn't seen Beata since the lashing. But when she laid eyes on Luard, she dropped an entire bucket of water on herself. Even though she was dripping wet, Luard swept her into his arms, kissing her on either cheek as if they were blood-related.
"I shall make such a feast tomorrow morning," Beata said, smoothing her dark hair, which had dislodged from its tight bun. "Niemenian delicacies. All of them. We just found a stash of flour and yeast in the back of the pantry, and Nicolasa says there's a blackberry bush nearby that's still producing. A blackberry tart, for my favorite prince."
"Beata," I said with a small sigh. "I understand you're happy to see him, but we need to save our food for when we really need them."
"And I disagree," Beata said, clearly forgetting the lesson she'd learned about watching her tongue. "The soldiers in camp are weary. We're all in need of something to celebrate. A small party will be good for the soul. And it's a tart, Brynna."
The use of my first name and the sardonic tone that came with it drew my eyebrows up. "Well, that settles it, then. Bake away, Lady Beata."
She kissed Luard on the cheek then returned to the kitchen, muttering to herself about all the things she had to do before the dinner tonight. I had a feeling she'd break out that wine I'd given to her, too.
"Did it just get chilly in here?" Luard asked, once she disappeared.
"It's a long story," I said, sitting down at the mess hall table.
"Well, we have a few minutes to talk," he said, reaching across the table to take my hand. "What's going on?"
"She and Jorad got into it this morning," I said. "And when I tried to break it up, she…well, she was rather rude about it. Which, of course, I don't mind, but it was in front of the entire camp. Jorad said I shouldn't allow such insubordination, even if it is from Beata."
He made a face. "That's tricky. How did you punish her?"
I winced again. "Five lashes."
"Oh, well, then she got off easy," Luard said, waving his hand. "In Niemen, it would've been two days in the stocks for disrespecting a superior officer."
"It still hurt," I said. "Her more than me, I'm sure."
"Being a leader is tough," he said. "But you can't play favorites. Even if they are the ones who you love the most."
"I already feel like everyone's losing faith in what I can do here," I said. "Hell, I'm losing faith in myself. We're just waiting for things to happen and reacting to them." I cast him a sideways glance. "I'm really glad you're here. I've missed you and that big brain of yours."
"Well, now you're just buttering me up," he said with a laugh. "Fine, tell this big brain of mine what you've been up to since we parted, and I'll see if I can't help."
I gave him a quick summation of the past few weeks, including Ammon's betrayal, the discovery of Beswick as the source of the ond, and how I'd made the strategic decision to come to Celia's camp to try to intercept it—and take over the
camp while I was at it.
He nodded at the end of my story. "You're doing all right so far. That Mark sounds like an insufferable dick."
"He was, but the soldiers liked him," I said. "And it's hard to ask them to trust me when Ammon's undoing all the work we did in Neveri."
Luard tapped his chin. "You said you had a bag of ond that Beswick fellow had smuggled into Forcadel, right? Why not use that to barter with Ammon?"
"It's not mine to barter with," I said softly. "But…you wouldn't have minded?"
"Of course I would've minded," he said. "And Ariadna would've been furious. But it would've been an understandable decision." He shook his head. "You're still too noble for your own good."
"It's not noble. It's about survival," I said with a bit of a laugh. "All of my alliances are falling apart. I'm not about to jeopardize the only one I have left."
"Tell me more about this Beswick," Luard said. "Do you know who he's been working with from the Niemenian side?"
"There was a Niemenian merchant, Goossen, who we came across in Forcadel. He'd met the business end of a club then found himself in the middle of an ond explosion," I said with a grimace.
Luard shook his head. "I'm unfamiliar with the name. Once all this is said and done, we'll unfortunately have to investigate who within our country has been selling our state secrets."
"And when I'm back on the throne, I'll assist in whatever capacity I can," I said.
"Ah, there's just the little problem of getting back on that tricky throne." He looked around. "Although it looks like you're doing a lot better than the last time we spoke. You're up to what, two hundred soldiers?"
"Nearly," I said. "Not enough to take on Ilara. Now that she knows I'm alive, she could send her forces out to try to meet me head on. I'm not ready for that yet."
"Mm, I doubt she'd do that," Luard said with a shake of his head. "Ilara's forces are mostly water-based, and you're way up here in the country. She's left herself vulnerable by thinking her borders are secure. She'll have a fairly rude awakening when she finds out what happened in Skorsa."
I grinned. "And what, exactly, did?"
"My sister dispatched her forces," Luard said. "As expected, we took the city within an evening. The poor Severian she'd put in charge folded like a deck of cards." He shook his head.
"Casualties?"
"A few, unfortunately, but nothing near the numbers in Niemen," he said. "Thanks to the efforts of your Lieutenant Lesley."
"Joella?" My smile widened. She was one of Felix's inner circle, like Riya had been. "She was in Skorsa?"
"Indeed. I was able to make contact prior to the invasion, and she and her Forcadelian soldiers helped us keep the peace as much as possible."
"And how is Joella?"
He grinned. "Happy you're alive and ready to assist in whatever capacity you need her."
At least someone had faith in me. "What will you do next?"
"We're going to continue into Forcadel to find whoever was responsible for this heinous crime against the kingdom of Niemen," Luard said. "And take the perpetrator back to face criminal proceedings."
"Sounds like fun," I said with a grin. "Can I join?"
"Shouldn't you be more concerned about your troops?" Luard said.
"It would be something to show them that we're moving forward," I said. "And besides that, as much faith as I have in your guards, I think you're woefully underprepared for what Beswick will bring. It would make me feel better to send reinforcements with you."
"Yes, but…does that mean you have to go?"
"Perhaps I just need something to occupy myself, too." I exhaled. "The first time I felt like myself was sitting in that tree, waiting for you. That's what I know. I know Beswick, too."
He gave me a look. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to have the expert with us. But please be advised that I have orders from my queen. Whoever we meet is coming back with us. No matter what."
"You have my word."
Chapter 30
Katarine
Clearly, Fishen worked miracles, or the Mother's hand was at work, because Ilara granted my request to spend Garwood's final days with him. I bore the smell and cries of anguish to wipe his forehead and tell him stories about August and anything else I could think of. I hoped Felix could hear my voice from the next cellblock over and prayed that when Garwood drew his last breath, I could set in motion a plan that would free us both. Fishen had already given me the shroud that would cover his body, the only pristine item in this grungy place. I brought it with me every day, along with the few earthly possessions I'd be taking with me when the time came. There was some gold buried between my favorite silk scarf, and the Niemenian crest my sister had given me on my wedding day. But everything else would be staying behind. If it was there when Brynna reclaimed the kingdom, so be it.
When I arrived one rainy morning, Lord Garwood was already dead. The chill on his skin said he'd been gone for several hours now. But the guards hadn't noticed. A good sign.
I went to the prison door. "Bring Captain Llobrega to me."
"Why?" the Severian barked back.
"Because Ilara told you to," I said with a steely-eyed glare. "My word is as good as hers."
He looked skeptical, but didn't argue. A few minutes later, Felix was deposited in the room unceremoniously. He cried out in pain when they dropped him on the floor, and I rushed to his side. He looked much worse than before, his cheeks even paler and some of the cuts on his face beginning to fester. As morbid as it sounded, Garwood's death couldn't have come at a better time.
"Listen very carefully to what I'm telling you," I said, lifting his chin to peer into his eyes as the door closed behind us. "I need you to be very still and quiet."
He nodded. "What are you doing?"
"Just stay here and rest."
I left Felix on the ground and tended to the corpse. With care, I pulled Garwood's body to the wall next to Felix, shrouded in darkness. It was a gamble—a large one—that they wouldn't check who was leaving and who was staying. But the Mother was on my side, and I'd prayed for days that She would watch over us.
I sat Garwood against the wall and gently positioned him. Then, I bowed my head. "I pray that you find your sister and August with the Mother and rest in peace." I looked up at his lifeless face, already losing whatever color was left. "Thank you for this one, final sacrifice."
I rose and returned to Felix, helping him to the center of the room where Garwood had lain. I placed him face-up on the ground then covered his body with the shroud.
The door opened—Fishen was there. She entered the room and knelt beside Felix under the shroud.
"Lord Garwood," she whispered, pressing her hand to his forehead. "You have lived a good, honorable life. Your service to the Mother as a man, husband, and caretaker of Forcadel will not be ignored. Go now, in peace, and receive your blessings at the Mother's side."
A shiver rolled through me. She'd said those same words over August's body, dead in his bed.
She took my hand and whispered, "Take care, Katarine. May the Mother offer her protection until you return to safe shores."
I squeezed her hand and swallowed the lump of emotion in my throat. "Brynna is alive, and we are returning to her."
"I know," she whispered with a half-smile. "The Mother told me as much."
Our conversation came to an abrupt end when the guards arrived with the cart that would carry Garwood's body out of the city. My heart pounded in my chest as they walked inside. One went to the sheet to lift it, but I cried out in horror.
"You do not remove the shroud from a dead man," Fishen gasped, as if what they were doing was the most offensive thing she'd ever seen. "Have you no shame, sir?"
The man jumped back as if the body were on fire, and his partner hissed at him. With care, they gently lifted Felix by his head and legs, grimacing as they did so.
"He's still warm," one of them said.
"He's only just passed," I replied, my heart pounding
against my ribcage.
They said nothing more as they placed the body on the cart. Fishen squeezed my hand and followed me out of the cell. The prisoners had gone quiet as we passed, knowing someone important had died. Some of them bowed their heads in reverence, others whispered their love to Fishen.
We reached the end of the long hall—a dead end. I swallowed hard, praying that this wasn't a trap and we weren't about to be slaughtered. But a loud grinding sound echoed from somewhere far away, and what was once a solid wall tilted backward, revealing a torch-lit passage.
I could scarcely believe my eyes. Another entrance to the castle? I kept my head bowed as we walked up the long ramp, counting the steps in my mind, and trying to orientate myself.
"Hold," the Severian said, walking to a large door. There were several locks, ones that would take more than a skilled vigilante to crack. Four keys went in, turning in a particular order, before the door opened. A rush of warm air hit my skin, as did the stench of human excrement and Mother knows what else.
"We usually just dump them here," the guard said.
"We're not dumping anything," I snapped. "We will take him to the cemetery."
After the words left my mouth, I regretted them. If they'd just dumped the body, I could've come back later and retrieved Felix. But now, I would have an escort to the cemetery. Then we'd have to wait for a burial. Mother, I'd made a horrible mistake.
"I hear there's been a death."
My back went straight as Coyle joined us.
"Yes. Lord Garwood," I said. "It is so terrible."
"It's a shame he couldn't swear his fealty to the queen," he said. "If you'll allow us, we will complete the burial."
"No," I said, looking up at him. "I'm his only relative in town. I will be the one to oversee things."
Coyle stared at me long and hard, as if trying to understand why I was acting like this, but Fishen cleared her throat.
"It's unseemly to stand out here with the dead," she said. "Shall we?"
My hands shook as we left town, but I buried them in the folds of my dress. Four Severians walked with us, plus Coyle and Fishen. I could use a sword, and I'd had rudimentary training in hand-to-hand combat, but against four trained guards, I would be useless.
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