The door was nearly shut when Red heard him snicker as his final comment slipped through the still open door. “I never imagined ye’d be so damn annoyin’, though.”
~~~
Jezamon Kerick was still laughing to himself later that night as he strolled down the empty tunnels. He tossed a faerie orb between his massive hands, the light bouncing across the walls and floor. Jezamon whistled a merry tune as he walked, his chuckles interrupting the simple melody every so often.
He had heard plenty of rumors circulating around about Red in countless backwater pubs. But no one really knew anything about the mysterious assassin aside from what local authorities learned at her crime scenes. Jezamon was even more impressed after seeing her in action.
Nik could have easily been added to her list of victims. Watching him try to take her down was like watching a mouse fight a lion. Red was as swift as one of the Mienai elves, and she was as brutal as the orcs from Mount Orazorwik’s sister peaks. She did not look powerful on the outside, but she sure knew how to use that to her advantage.
And nothing made someone more powerful than having the ability to steal and tear apart a man’s pride.
And Red had ripped Nik’s pride to shreds.
Nik would be nursing his beaten ego back to its inflated hotheadedness for months. It would take half the time for his arm to fully heal.
Jezamon took a right, deciding to take the long way back to his sleeping quarters in order to fully enjoy his amusement. He stopped dead at the beginning of the hall as he took in the two Airaldanian guards posted outside of Robyn Thorn’s workroom. He was ready to flee toward the way he came, but the guards caught sight of the shadows cast from his faerie orb.
The soldiers were brave enough not to cower away as they watched Jezamon standing—still as death—at the end of the tunnel. The guards were also smart enough to tighten their grips on their swords.
“What’s going on out here?” Robyn asked from behind Jezamon, startling both him and the guards. Robyn Thorn either did not notice, or he did not care as he stepped around Jezamon and headed toward the protected closed doors. The guards snapped to attention as Robyn Thorn reached to open the door, but the heavy iron swung open before he could even grab hold of the handle.
A beautiful woman stood inside the threshold, her skirts still swishing around from the force of opening the door. Her eyebrows were pulled together, almond-shaped eyes squinting to match her disapproving frown. She looked over the men in the hallway like a butcher trying to decide which of his prized cows were to be slaughtered.
When her eyes caught onto Robyn standing at the door, she dryly stated, “You’re late.”
“Thank you for reminding me of that every time we meet, Britta,” Robyn sighed before bending at the waist in a deep bow. “It is always a pleasure to see you, Your Highness.”
Jezamon did not hear a reply as Robyn quickly rose from his bow and stepped into the room. And he did not hear another word as he watched Britta Lozano whip around Robyn Thorn to slam the door shut.
“Nice work, boys,” Jezamon Kerick grunted out as he made his way to move past the guards. He was striding around the soldiers when the farther one shot out his sword, stopping him in his tracks.
“We may not be able to kill you in this sanctuary,” the guard spat, the dark metal from his helmet gleaming in the light of the faerie orb, “but no one will care if a monster like you is accidentally slayed on the battlefield.”
Jezamon sneered down at the man, pushing his sword away. He bared his tusks at the two guards. The Tele pixies sitting on the men's shoulders shrank behind their helmets, doing everything they could to avoid catching Jezamon's attention.
“Airaldan’s guards are more stupid than I thought if you’re willing to waste your energy taking down a fellow soldier during a battle.”
The first guard spit at Jezamon’s boots, dismissing him with utmost disrespect. The second guard shared his opinion though, as he cautioned, “Creatures like you are only ‘good soldiers’ because you’ve trained by killing hundreds of innocents. You cannot hide here forever, beast. You and the rest of your kind will be brought to justice. One way or another.”
Jezamon Kerick only growled in warning before he stormed down the hall. His mood turned sour for the rest of the night. Even the memories from that morning had turned gray and disappointing.
~~~
Prince Sampson did not know what to expect when he walked into the empty meeting room. He was glad that there was no grand entrance, but Sampson was not used to being alone. Ever.
He was never left to wander alone in the palace. Eyes and ears were situated throughout every hall and room. Privacy was something unheard of—especially in times of war.
Sampson paced around the little room, obsessively wiping his sweating palms against his pants every few minutes. His nerves were on edge as he waited for Robyn Thorn to join to start their first official meeting together. He wished for a clock—or even a window—to see how much time passed while he waited.
It felt as if he had been waiting for hours when the door swung open, but it was not Robyn who stepped in. A stunning woman waltzed into the room in flowing skirts that draped perfectly off her curvy hips. Her amber eyes were cast in brilliant shades of gold in the faerie light. Her tan skin was completely flawless, and her shining black hair swallowed every ounce of light cast on it.
She slid her feet into a deep curtsy, but she rose before Sampson could address her. “I am sorry for the wait, Your Highness. Robyn will be running a few minutes late.”
Sampson was baffled at the fact that he had only been waiting for a few minutes, his utter lack of patience an even larger surprise. But he did not linger on the fact as he watched the woman lean against the wall nearest the door. The woman watched him in return without any shyness in her cool stare.
“And who might you be?” the prince asked to try to break the silence.
“Britta Lozano,” was all the woman replied.
Sampson was unsure whether he should ask any more questions when Britta perked up. She raced to the door, flinging it open on silent hinges to welcome a stunned Robyn Thorn.
“You’re late,” Britta commented when she had finished sizing up the guards that she had met moments ago and whoever was in the hallway out of Sampson’s sight.
“Thank you for reminding me of that every time we meet, Britta,” Robyn sighed before bending at the waist into a deep bow. “It is always a pleasure to see you, Your Highness,” Robyn directed toward the prince.
Before he could reply, Britta ushered Robyn inside the room, quickly shutting the door just as the rebel leader barely took his final step inside.
Sampson was stunned at the brash informality of Britta’s first impression, but he did not let his words escape him. “The pleasure is all mine. And while we could spend time with formalities, it seems that your, uhh, partner seems eager to start our meeting.”
“I do apologize for Britta’s rude manners,” Robyn Thorn cringed as he stepped up to the table that made up his desk. “But the sooner we have solid plans, the better chance we have of taking down Perancis and Weznik’s localized troops. Without soldiers to protect their cities, their queens will have no choice but to pull most of their troops from the front lines.”
“Once that happens,” Britta Lozano cut in, not willing to be left out of the conversation, “you will work with Queen Rapunzel and Queen Briar Rose to see if a peace treaty can be made between your kingdoms.”
“I am already drafting letters to send to Queen Rapunzel and Queen Briar Rose to see if we can start forming a treaty sooner, rather than later,” Prince Sampson replied, moving to stand across the rebel commander. “Until any of your plans are put into motion, however, I am here to provide the only help that I can at the moment.”
Robyn nodded at Sampson, the latter reaching to unbutton the top of his tunic. He grabbed the slip of parchment that was tucked away inside the hidden pocket. Sampson carefully unfolded that sm
all slip, smoothing out the wrinkles before sliding it in front of Robyn Thorn.
Britta joined Robyn at the opposite side of the table. It was clear that she was curious to see what the prince was offering. It took all she had to hold herself back from snatching the note out of Robyn’s hand as he pulled it out of her view. Her fingers moved to fidget with her dress instead, finding a thread that was in no need of being messed with.
Sampson watched Robyn’s face pale as he took in the scribbled writing. The stunned rebel leader did not look back at the prince as he absentmindedly handed the wrinkled piece of parchment to Britta. She immediately grabbed the paper, and her mouth almost dropped open at the sum that was printed there.
“Is it not enough?” Sampson asked, easily willing to provide more. He looked between the two rebels, confusion lining his frowning lips.
“Not enough?” Britta asked in shock. She folded the parchment up and slipped it into the top of her corset. “I can barely read that sum. I’ve never seen a number that large.”
Robyn took a large gulp before he managed to look at the prince. “That contribution would be enough to cover costs for six, maybe seven months.”
“I am glad to help in any way I can,” Sampson genuinely stated, nodding to the two rebels. He turned to look at Robyn as he asked, “How many have you been able to train?”
Robyn leaned forward on the table with one arm, his other rising to massage at the bridge of his nose. “Cooperation has not come easily. But every able-bodied creature is doing their part being trained as soldiers, medics, cooks, and message runners.”
“We’re hoping that the mercenaries can work with Red to get the fighters in shape,” Britta added with a wave of her hand. “There are some born fighters, but most have never even thrown a punch before.”
Sampson took a surprised step back from the table as Britta’s words sank in. Both Britta and Robyn cast a worried look at the prince, but they did not move to him like a servant at the palace would have. Sampson was relieved at that lack of care as thoughts swarmed through his head.
“By Red, you don’t happen to mean Red Riding Hood, do you?” He asked shakily. His already pale skin turned milky white as Robyn nodded his head.
“W-why was I not aware of the fact that Red Riding Hood was here?” Sampson demanded when he could put a real sentence together. He looked down at Robyn with a hard glare, but the rebel commander did not even avert his eyes.
“This is a sanctuary,” Robyn Thorn replied stiffly, watching the prince carefully. “It is not my duty to report who is and is not living within this compound.”
“She is dangerous,” Sampson countered.
“So is she,” Robyn argued lightly, pointing a finger at a bristling Britta. “So am I. So are you if we’re being honest here.”
“You could sell out our location to anyone you please, and we would be none the wiser until we were attacked,” Britta Lozano agreed with a nod.
Sampson shook his head at the two rebels, his mop of black curls flopping against his brow in the most improper fashion. “I would be signing my own death sentence if I breathed a word of this to anyone other than the two guards standing outside that door. I would be creating a whole new war if any other kingdoms even got a whiff of what goes on in our meetings.”
“I don’t doubt your loyalty,” Robyn returned defensively. “But this rebellion is made up of mercenaries and lost people. None of us can be considered innocent in the eyes of the law.”
“Not even the children,” Britta added quietly, her eyes cast in sorrowful shadows.
Sampson was shocked as he watched the fiery woman’s spark dull under those shadows. In a moment, it was blazing again, those dark thoughts forced from her mind. He also shook those thoughts from his mind, praying to the Maker that she would be able to protect the souls of the innocent in the battles to come.
“In order to ease the tension,” Robyn Thorn cut in, desperate to steer the conversation away from the horrid reality around them, “we will inform you the moment Red leaves the compound. Until then, she has every right to stay here.”
Sampson was not pleased to leave the subject behind so easily, but he nodded, allowing the two rebels to continue with their negotiations. The prince agreed to the input that Robyn shared with him, but his mind wandered around the rest of the sanctuary.
He imagined more winding tunnels of dirt and mud, scattered with creatures of every make and culture. Sampson saw the barely innocent children running throughout, faerie orbs bouncing along as they played and laughed together. He pictured mercenaries armed to the teeth, strutting down the halls, power in every step, fear enveloping their wakes.
And Sampson could not help but picture Red in the middle of the chaos. He could see her as easily as he could see Britta and Robyn talking to him in the little war room. He had been amazed by her beauty in his mother’s throne room, and she was no less stunning in the imagined faerie light. But that beauty was warped by her cruel smile and the weapons glinting at her side.
The image faded into nothing more than a wisp of a dream, leaving Sampson with an unknown melancholy feeling within the pit of his stomach.
Soon enough, numbers were calculated and costs were agreed upon. The meeting passed without another mention of Red, but Sampson’s mind kept wandering to see flashes of the dirty assassin kneeling in his home no more than two months before. Thoughts of the beautiful killer were still filtering through Sampson’s consciousness as he transported back to his home, ready to start a whole new war.
~~~
Britta Lozano paced before the worktable, the skirts of her plain gray dress swishing and sighing around her ankles. She braided and untied her hair with every crossing of the small room, her fingers completing and taking apart her work in quick succession.
Every so often she eyed Robyn Thorn, his broad shoulders hunched over as he traced his fingers across a map.
Britta could see that the weight of running the rebellion was hard on the young leader. His eyes were rimmed with dark purple shadows. Nothing but frowns and glares lined his perfect lips. And Robyn was always running his hands through his hair, tugging at the end of the corkscrew curls as if he could pull the right ideas out of the growing strands.
Time and time again, Britta passed the young leader roaming the empty tunnels in the dead of night. Her own roaming worries kept her awake most nights, but she knew that the worries that Robyn held onto would never leave him alone. Even with the reassurance that they would be well provided for, Robyn would not let himself rest.
There were too many lives at stake.
“We need to take action now!” Gretel Norton exclaimed, slamming her hand down on the map of Cathal, bringing Britta back to the rebellion’s most current setback. “We cannot hide in the shadows and still expect to protect the compound while the Kingdom Rogues venture farther past their borders.”
“People need to know that we exist,” Hansel Norton added, earning a glare from his sister. “And they need to know that we are not aligned with the Kingdom Rogues.”
“Up until a few minutes ago, we barely had enough funding to keep us going. Bringing in more people will only make our limited supplies dwindle even more quickly,” Robyn Thorn shot back, swiping Gretel’s hand away from the territory she was blocking.
“I understand that we need more bodies, more fighters, but I will not jeopardize the lives of innocents to gain more supporters.”
“We have gladly volunteered ourselves,” Gretel interjected, her brother silently nodding along. She crossed her arms over her chest, positioning herself into a stance that Britta knew was the girl’s way of saying that she would not budge.
Clearly, Robyn did not get that memo because he did not even put in the effort to look up at Gretel as he stated, “I need you two here, training the best fighters that we have. I cannot risk losing you two in a battle against the Kingdom Rogues.”
“I didn’t know you thought so little of our skills,” Gretel Norton spat, le
aning down to get Robyn to look her in the eye.
“The Kingdom Rogues didn’t notice when we helped retrieve Red Riding Hood,” Hansel added coolly—the calm before his sister’s storm. “If Britta’s information is correct about the whereabouts of the Kingdom Rogues, this is the only option we have to get the upper hand.”
“This is not up for negotiations,” Robyn Thorn cut in sharply. He looked up from the map centered around the territory surrounding the Rogue Manor. He mindlessly traced his fingers around the roughly sketched building that he had once called home.
His eyes looked dull, tired, but he did not avert his gaze from the siblings as he stated, “Either find me a mission that doesn’t risk my two best fighters, or come up with some charity work that will make the people see that we are not just mindless killers.”
“If you want charity work, talk to Eliseo,” Gretel hissed. She yanked her brother along with her as she stormed out of the room. Hansel showed no look of surprise as he was practically thrown out into the hall. There was no doubt he was already used to the brash actions of his iron-willed sister.
Britta Lozano watched Robyn as the door slammed behind them with enough force to make some of the packed wall fall to the floor in a puff of black dirt.
“This may be the last chance where we have the advantage against the Kingdom Rogues, Robyn. It would be unwise to let this opportunity go to waste.”
“The Kingdom Rogues are trained assassins. We don’t have enough naturally born fighters to spare. As much as I want to make a statement, the risks are too great.”
Britta paused in her pacing at the despair in her leader’s voice. She glided across the dirt floor on silent feet, moving to stand next to Robyn Thorn. “We will find something else to sway the people to our side,” Britta promised even as she did not dare to believe in her own words. “Who knows, maybe Harry will find us some more secrets that we can exploit.”
Cloak of Darkness (The Destroyer-Blessed Saga Book 1) Page 28