The Veil of Trust

by S. Usher Evans

  No, don't think like that. Felix's life depended on me not giving up hope.

  But my options were running low as the wagon rolled under the iron gate of the cemetery. Statues and plaques of lords and ladies who'd lived decades or even centuries ago littered the green, rolling hills bathed in moonlight.

  "Where shall we bury him?" Coyle asked.

  "Near his ancestors," I said, thinking quickly. I had no idea where that was, so it might buy me some time.

  "I think here is fine," Coyle said, turning to me. "After all, it's a mercy that we're burying him at all." He nodded to his soldiers. "Start digging."

  With every shovelful of dirt, my dread grew. Would they lift the shroud? Would Felix forget himself and make a sound? Or worse—would they bury him alive?

  Mother Fishen walked to the front of the wagon, pressing her hands to either side of Felix's head as she began to pray for Garwood and his soul.

  "Oh Mother. Giver of life. We pray that you receive the soul of Lord Leandro Garwood, servant of Forcadel and the crown. Please place your hand on Lord Joseph Garwood, his husband, and Lady Katarine during their time of grief, and continue to guide us as we—"

  An arrow sailed across the sky and landed in the wood of the cart. A guard and Fishen leaned in closer to look then fell forward almost in unison. My heart beat faster as another arrow hit near the second pair of soldiers and they, too, slumped.

  Coyle turned, his eyes wide with fear as he pulled his sword. "C-come out."

  The person who appeared wore a cloak and a black mask but it wasn't Brynna. She was skinnier, her skin a lighter brown. Still, it appeared Coyle would see what he wanted to.

  "You will go," she said, holding up her sword. The voice was unfamiliar. "And you will not breathe a word of this to anyone."

  Coyle scrambled over his feet and ran off. Perhaps he would return, lie down, and pretend he'd succumbed to the knockout powder as well. However he saved his own skin, I didn't care.

  "You…" I said with a soft sigh. "Who are you?"

  "We're friends of Princess Brynna." A young voice echoed from behind the grave, followed by a tiny girl, no older than thirteen. "My name's Elisha."

  "Mother damn it," the masked woman cursed. "What did I tell you about announcing yourself?"

  "Princess Brynna does it all the time," Elisha responded, putting her hands on her hips. "Besides that, this lady's her friend, ain't she?"

  "Yes, but…" The masked woman shook her head.

  "I don't understand," I said, after a moment. "Where's Brynna?"

  "She's with the rest of the camp," the masked woman said. "She asked us to stay behind. We were watching the streets for Beswick's activity when we saw Coyle grab the guards. He said there was a death in the dungeons and you were requesting Mother Fishen." She swallowed and looked at the wagon. "I feared the worst. Is that…Captain Llobrega?"

  "Yes, but he's alive," I said with a small smile. "Lord Garwood passed, so we… Well…it was my best option to get him out of the dungeons, so I took it." My knees grew a little weak as I exhaled. "And I'm grateful you came to my rescue. I confess, I didn't think this through very well. An oddity for me."

  "We were glad to do it," she said. "Elisha found a Nestori in town who made knockout powder and replenished our supplies."

  "I'm surprised Brynna let someone so young take on so much responsibility," I said to the girl.

  "I'm not young," Elisha replied. "Am I, Aline?"

  "Aline," I said, looking at the masked woman. "How did you come across Brynna?"

  She pulled her mask from her face, revealing herself as Forcadelian. "I was a soldier under Captain Llobrega's command. Assigned to Neveri when Her Majesty arrived."

  I had to smile. "Felix will be very proud of you." I gestured to his still body. "When he wakes."

  "Where are you going next?" Aline asked.

  "Wherever Brynna is," I said. "Or wherever's safest. Felix needs to heal and recover from his ordeal."

  She nodded in understanding. "If you continue along this road, you'll come across a small town called Veeblen. From there, take the northwestern road."

  She gave me more directions—towns and villages, and roads I should take. I remembered every name, cementing them into my mind as if my very life depended on it.

  "I wish we could escort you, but Her Majesty gave us a mission," Aline said. "We're here disrupting Lord Beswick's operations." She perked up. "But I've been unable to get a message out, so perhaps you could deliver it for me?"

  "I will," I said with a nod.

  "Tell her that we've kept all ond out of the city so far." She grinned proudly. "I've been dumping it into the bay, as instructed."

  I winced at the precious material being destroyed so unceremoniously. "I suppose that's good?"

  "And we've also been disrupting the food supply, delivering the goods directly to the people and preventing him from profiting off it," she said. "Any day now Beswick will break and be willing to deal."

  "He gave me a message as well," I said, unease sliding into my voice. "He wants you to back off and leave him alone." I glanced at the little girl, barely a teenager. "Are you sure you're safe here?"

  "Yes, my lady," Aline said. "We can handle whatever trouble Beswick brings. His operation is hanging by a string. But now you need to get going. The patrols will be back, and they'll be wondering what happened out here."

  "I understand," I said, picking up the cart handles. "If you'll just point me in the right direction."

  "You're going to carry him like that?" Aline asked.

  "He's my best friend," I said. "I would carry him to the ends of the earth. But I just need to know to which end I'm going."

  Chapter 31

  Luard's cheerfulness was infectious, and by the morning, whatever dark clouds had gathered over the camp seemed to have dissipated. The Niemenian guards ingratiated themselves with my soldiers very quickly, and the mess hall was the liveliest I'd seen it in probably…ever.

  Beata was practically glowing as she handed Luard a large blackberry tart for breakfast the next morning. It didn't escape my notice that she had nothing for me.

  "I do think that woman has a crush on me," Luard said, taking a big bite. "This is the best pastry I've ever had."

  "I think she's going a bit crazy being away from Katarine," I said, my mouth watering at the thought of fresh blueberries and sugar. "As are we all."

  "Hopefully, whomever we're meeting with in Galdon will illuminate us on events in Forcadel," Luard said, breaking off a piece and handing it to me. "I have faith in Katarine's brilliance. She's much stronger than she appears, I promise you. And what she lacks in physical strength, she more than makes up for in intellect and strategy."

  "Good morning, Your Majesty," Jorad said, bowing low. "Prince Luard, we're glad to have you with us once again."

  "And I'm glad to be back," Luard said with a smile. "I always love getting into trouble with our favorite princess vigilante."

  "If I may," Jorad said, gesturing to the empty seat in front of us. I nodded and he sat down. "Ivan tells me you'll be continuing down to Galdon to intercept Beswick's contact this afternoon."

  "Hopefully Beswick himself," Luard said.

  "And which soldiers will you be taking with you?" he asked. "If any?"

  "I'm going," I said. "With Jax and Locke. Perhaps a few others, just in case. Beswick does like to bring an entourage."

  "Your Majesty," Jorad began with a hesitant smile. "Shouldn't you be conferring with me on these matters? I don't know if it's smart for you to be putting yourself in the middle of this. Send me and my best soldiers. We can do the job."

  Luard nudged me under the table.

  I took a breath, gathering my thoughts. "There's a place for soldiers, Jorad, and there's a place for thieves. Right now, I need thieves."

  "The Niemenians aren't thieves—"

  Luard nudged me again.

  "It seems we may be better served having this discussion with the entire g
roup," I said. "Perhaps after breakfast?"

  "As you wish." Jorad saluted and walked away.

  I let out a hiss of annoyance. "See what I mean? I can't even get Jorad to listen to me."

  "People are always going to argue with you," Luard said, wiping crumbs off his tunic. "What makes you effective is how you deal with dissent. With a man like that, all you need to do is to pull rank, and he'll fall in line."

  Once the mess hall had been cleared, I asked Jorad, the Niemenian guards, and a few others to stay to discuss the plan for the afternoon. I'd been building one in my mind, eager to get back into the sorts of strategies I knew. Surprise would be our best weapon against him.

  Locke walked up to the table, a young girl in tow. "Erm…Miss Larissa, my lady."

  "Yes," I said, trying not to smile at his fumbling of my title.

  "I thought Florie might be useful," he said, his cheeks reddening. "See, she's from Galdon, and she can tell us all about the town."

  "I know all of it," she announced proudly.

  "Excellent," I said with a nod to Jorad, who seemed a little uneasy at the concept.

  "Are you sure she knows what she's talking about?" he asked.

  "I'd trust her," Luard said, kicking back. "Look how eager she is. And I hear these kids are used to canvassing cities and such, right, Brynna?"

  I'd never been more thankful for the prince. "Thank you, Locke. Florie, what can you tell us about the city?"

  The girl sat down at the table and described it in almost perfect detail, naming streets and businesses, and helping Ivan sketch a map of exactly where the stakeout was going to happen. Both Luard and Jorad seemed surprised by her knowledge, but I wasn't. Once she'd completed her task, I sent her off to get some rest, as she'd be going with us in the afternoon to help scout. I expected a protest from Jorad, but didn't get it.

  "Our contact is supposed to meet us here," Ivan said, pointing to the inn Florie had described. "It's big enough for around thirty people."

  I nodded, letting my Veil instincts come out. "We should infiltrate the tavern early in plainclothes, and let Ivan do the handoff. He's the least likely to be recognized, and they'll be expecting a Niemenian."

  "And what do we do once they know we don't have the ond?" Jorad asked.

  "We surround and disarm them, hopefully without too much of a fight," I said. "It's a small space, so we can't have swords. Knives, crossbows, things we can wield quickly." I glanced behind me at the four Forcadelian soldiers Jorad had picked. "Are you capable?"

  They nodded. "We're skilled in all manner of weapons, Your Majesty."

  "Excellent," I said, sharing a smile with Jorad. "We're glad to have you here." I turned back to the map. "I want Florie and another scout watching all the exits and entrances. They know the code and can alert Jax and me when trouble is coming. I want them in place before any of this starts, so they'll ride ahead with the first group."

  "Group?" Jorad asked.

  "Yes, so as to not arouse suspicion. First, I want Hagan, Nils, Jax, and the scouts to get in town early in the morning. Canvass the city, keep an eye out for the contact."

  "He's supposed to be wearing a red handkerchief," Ivan said to Hagan. "Though I doubt he'd be wearing it during the day."

  "Still, keep your ear to the ground," I said. "If anything feels funny, send Florie or the other scout back on your fastest horse. You're going to be our security team, so I want you inside the tavern no later than quarter past seven. Use your discretion, but don't come in as a big group."

  Hagan nodded. "Will do."

  "Asdis, you and Ivan will take the carriage mid-afternoon," I said. "Your job is to look like you're in town to make the contact, so make sure to get a room at the inn like you're planning to stay. I want you in place in the tavern at eight, no earlier."

  "Will do," she said.

  "Finally," I said, "Luard, and I will arrive after sundown with Locke. We'll get in place around quarter 'til."

  "And me, Your Majesty?" Jorad asked. "What will you have the soldiers do?"

  "Stay here," I said, rising to my feet. "Keep the fortress secure until we return. And keep an eye on the border. I don't trust this isn't the last shipment."

  The room began to empty, but Jorad remained in place. "Your Majesty, could I have a word with you in private?"

  "Sure," I said, already guessing what he was going to say. Luard, still sitting at the door, put his hand to his chest as if to say, Pull rank. And while I supposed I could throw my queenly title around, I got the distinct impression it wouldn't mean a whole lot to Jorad at this point.

  We were barely outside the camp's walls when Jorad started. "I'd like to understand why you keep choosing Jax and Locke instead of my soldiers. Is it because of Lady Beata? I spared her; she was supposed to get twenty and she only got five."

  "No, it's not that," I said. "I appreciate your leniency, as does Bea, I'm sure."

  "Was it because we delayed in getting you the message? We moved as fast as we could—"

  "No, we didn't," I said. "Because we have eighty scouts at our disposal that we aren't using effectively."

  "Who? The cadets?" He stepped forward.

  "Yes, our scouts who have been sitting in these trees and spying for Celia for years," I said, finally speaking aloud what I'd been mulling over these past few days. "Otherwise, she wouldn't have let them stick around."

  "And you don't think our soldiers can do a better job of supporting you in Galdon?" he asked, sounding more hurt than annoyed now.

  I put my hands on my hips, staring up at the dark sky. "Listen, what you're doing here, what you've done, is more than I ever could've asked for. I appreciate you and every person who's dedicated themselves to this cause. But if I'm going to be queen, I have to start trusting my own instincts. I may not know much about battle strategy or tariffs, but I know Beswick. I know how he operates and who he sends. I need people who know how to get in and out of places without being seen."

  "Then teach us how to do that."

  I lowered my gaze to his in surprise. "What?"

  "Teach us your ways," Jorad said. "You have soldiers here who are yearning to prove themselves to you. "

  "They aren't yearning to prove themselves. They hate me," I said.

  "They're frustrated because they haven't had any clear direction from you." His eyes lit up. "Why don't you have Locke stay behind and send me in his place to Galdon? He can begin training your troops so they can be more helpful to you. I'll bet you by the time we get back, these soldiers will be well on their way to becoming formidable vigilantes."

  "I don't know…"

  "Your Majesty," Jorad said with something of a bashful smile, "All we want are marching orders. So give us some. I don't know what you're afraid of."

  Nicolasa's guidance floated between my ears. I couldn't be afraid of making the wrong decision anymore. "Fine, give the order to Locke and the troops. But they will be training with real weapons—just like we did. No complaints."

  "Yes, Your Majesty."

  Boldness returned to my voice. "And I want the kids to show the soldiers a few things about fighting dirty. Until everyone's trained up, I want the youngers in the trees, watching all the routes into the forest. I don't trust that Beswick won't send another shipment in, and I want us ready if he does." I hesitated. "And I want someone to make a schedule to help Beata with the care and feeding in camp. She can't continue to do everything by herself." I paused. "And I want you to work with her to figure a way that she can work with the littles. Find a compromise that works for the both of you."

  I took a breath, waiting for argument.

  Instead, Jorad saluted me. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I will convey your orders at once." He marched away without a second look.

  "I'd give that a passing grade," Luard said, walking out from behind a hut. "You sounded a little unsure at the beginning, but you definitely cleared it up in the end. Well done."

  "Are you just eavesdropping on all my conversations now?"
I asked, putting my hand on my hip.

  "You seemed like you were in need of a little feedback," he said. "Or encouragement. I'm not sure which."

  "A little of Column A, little of Column B…"

  Chapter 32

  Later that afternoon, Jorad wore a bright smile as he brought a pair of horses for Luard and me. The rest of the group had departed as instructed, and so far, no word of any trouble had come back to us. It was hard not to feel nervous, though, especially with the number of unknowns ahead of us.

  As we rode out, we passed Locke and a group of ten Forcadelian soldiers—and a few younger kids, too. They were sparring without weapons, and the kids were making quick work of the soldiers. As one particularly large man fell backward, I cringed.

  "They'll get better," Jorad said with a smile that faded as the last of the soldiers ended up on the ground.

  "Don't get me wrong, the thieves could use some discipline," I said, as one nearby spit on the ground. "But helpless, they are not."

  "Yeesh," Luard said, watching the kids celebrate their victory. "Agree on both points. It's like you have a little army of vigilantes."

  I glanced at him, a smile coming onto my face. "Indeed I do."

  As we exited the camp, a chorus of whistles echoed from above. I gazed up at the trees, filled with a mix of soldiers and teenagers. The thieves waved, whistling to their scouts ahead that we would be passing through.

  "What did they say?" Jorad asked me.

  "Good luck," I said. "Or the code for good luck."

  "Is it more a code for words or letters?" Luard asked, glancing up at them.

  "A little of both."

  Luard craned his neck back. "Fascinating."

  "I'd be interested in learning," Jorad said, nudging his horse even with mine. "You did say you wanted everyone in camp to know it."

  "Excellent idea," Luard said, winking at me when Jorad wasn't looking.