by N M Zoltack
If only she could talk to them, to see if she could reason with them. The feat might prove impossible, but she would do anything and everything in her power to prevent them from destroying another village.
So many people had died. She did not wish for that to happen once more.
Which is why she had to continue onward.
Vivian dismounted and guided the horse up the side of the mountain a bit. She was going to make use of every last bit of brightness that the sun provided her. There were plenty of clouds about in the sky, so she doubted the moon would bless her enough illumination for her to climb throughout a good portion of the night. If she were on her own, that would be a different matter, but with the horse… She could ill afford for the horse to throw a shoe.
Should she turn the horse loose after all? But no. Without this horse to trade for another, she would have to give nearly all of the coins she had brought with her to secure a horse for the trek back.
Once the horse stumbled a third time, Vivian guided him over to a small bit of even ground on the mountain.
“We’ll stay here for the time being,” she murmured to him, brushing his side with her hand.
The horse neighed and nudged her side.
She giggled and then heaved a sigh. It was moments like this when she felt most alone and wished she had taken Ulric up on his offer to come with her.
Once the horse slept, Vivian stood and moved away a decent measure. She took out her sword and did some moves with it, allowing her muscles to be fluid, the weapon a part of her arm. Then, she did the same with her dagger. Each weapon could be used differently. A sword was meant for distance, of course, but with a dagger, one had to be close up against their opponent. It was a personal weapon.
Unless the dagger was thrown, of course.
Vivian crossed over to a rock and used her boot to scruff a crude “X” onto it. Then, she backed away and thew her dagger at it. She was too close for the dagger to be buried in the rock, but it bounced against the mark. She retrieved the dagger and tried again, this time from farther back and again even farther back, testing her accuracy. When the mark became almost impossible to see in the growing darkness, she tried a few more times, going by muscle memory. While she was uncertain if she hit the intended spot or not, the dagger clanged against the rock each time.
With a grim grin, she retrieved her dagger one last time. She should sleep some. After all, tomorrow would be a long, grueling day of climbing.
The mountain was quiet but not eerily so, and she felt a bit of peace wash over her. False peace, she knew, but still, she felt no fear. She did, however, miss her sister. Had Sabine killed her mother yet? Did Noll know he had been avenged?
Her eyes were unwilling to shut, her mind to quiet her thoughts, and Vivian removed her dagger again, flipping it end over end, catching it by the handle each time.
Marcellus’s words during the Battle of the Rivers came back to her. He’d quoted what a Valkyrie had said to her.
“Your arrogance will get you killed.”
But Vivian wasn't arrogant. She knew she had some skill, but she also knew that she would not win a sword duel to the death against Marcellus. The prince had trained his entire life as a fighter, and she had only a year or so. She was skilled, yes, but she was not that skilled. She knew well her limitations.
“Is that what you fancy yourself to be now? A lady knight, the first lady knight of Tenoch? Do not forget who trained you. You are not just Tenoch.”
His voice echoed in her head. Why was she worried about what he thought? He was wrong. He did not know her.
But she could not deny that she felt as if the castle was no longer her home. When she had fled, she had been a frightened girl, but she had returned a changed woman. She was a survivor, and she longed for all of Tenoch to survive. If she could will that to be the case…
But force of will would not be enough. The dragons needed to be appeased. They were furious, and she understood that. Although she hid it well, Vivian was furious.
Furious at her father.
Furious at Aldith.
Furious at Greta.
Furious at Rosalynne even.
Furious at Marcellus.
Maybe she was furious with everyone she knew.
Including herself.
She had a feeling there was more she didn’t know, more intelligence Rosalynne had kept from her. Did Rosalynne not trust her? Then again, knowing her sister, Rosalynne would claim that it was Vivian who did not trust her as Vivian had not even bothered to say goodbye before leaving.
Still gripping the dagger, Vivian somehow managed to sleep. When the first light of early dawn shone, she stirred and climbed to her feet. The horse whined as she reached for the reins, but she released them a moment later.
Oh, by the Fates, let her eyes be deceiving her! But no, they saw truly.
A massive fire burned in the near distance.
The dragons had found another town to be lacking.
"Come, horse," Vivian said firmly. "We must climb this mountain the quicker, the better. Don't worry. Another one will be climbing back, but you are going to listen to me, aren't you? You had better if you know what's good for you."
And off they climbed. A part of Vivian wished to look back, to see the village, but she refused to. She had wasted too much time as it was. Sleep? Who needed sleep? Noll was sleeping for her. The princess was going to push her body to the limit, to learn what she sought in Olac and return to the castle even faster now.
47
Sir Edmund Hill
Try as he might, Edmund could not get the words from Teoma Barno out from his head. The thought that Dudley’s hotel was becoming an unsafe haven in Atlan did not sit well with Edmund, not at all, but perhaps the guard had been mistaken or overexaggerated. It would hardly be fair for Edmund to pass judgment when he himself could merely go and visit the hotel and see for himself what the fuss was all about.
The next time Edmund was given a day to himself, he waited until early afternoon time to head on over to Tranquil Wolf Hotel. Deep down, he feared that something massive would happen soon, maybe with his brother and the hotel or with the Vincanans or with the dragons, but this shaky peace would not last long.
Or maybe there would be another execution. Edmund had never witnessed one before when the perpetrator had been burned alive. Was that preferable to the guillotine? Surely not, but Edmund would never question his queens.
The moment Edmund walked onto the street of the hotel, he could already hear a great ruckus. Loud music, screaming, cursing, laughter too, it all burst out of the place. The door was propped open, and Edmund found it hard to squeeze through. The place was cramped beyond belief. How did so many bodies fit inside? And unwashed bodies at that. The place reeked.
Edmund did his best not to breathe deeply as he maneuvered through the crowd, looking for his brother when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.
“Edmund! You’re here!” Dudley laughed loudly in his face, his breath stinking of alcohol. “I can’t believe you’ve been gone for so long. Let me get you an ale. The good stuff for you, brother. Only the best.”
“I’m quite fine. Thank you, but no.”
“Nonsense!” Dudley muttered and cursed and forced their way through. Not the most professional of activities, but no one paid Dudley much mind.
Edmund took stock of the gamblers in the back corner. A cloud of smoke rose above their table like fog.
“You do not want to gamble with the likes of them,” Dudley warned. “No, Amiee, he does not want your attention.” He shook his head. “You’ll have to excuse the serving girls. They like to serve more than the drinks, but you, you aren’t interested in that, am I right?”
Dudley shoved a drink into Edmund’s hand, spilling it slightly.
Tight-lipped, Edmund forced a grim smile as he lifted his cup. He took a small sip. The good stuff wasn’t quite as good as Edmund recalled.
“Anyhow, the reason why I wanted you to swing
by is this,” Dudley said, leaning over as if conspiring a great terrible secret. “I want to hire you.”
“Hire me?”
“Yes. You’re a guard, aren’t you? Guard this place. Protect it. What do you say? I’ll pay you a fair wage to be sure, and you can have as much as you want to drink. Not while you’re on duty. That would be a poor look, but…”
“I cannot.”
“Why not?”
“I have sworn an oath to the crown! I am not merely a guard. I serve Tenoch.”
“Ah.” Dudley wagged a finger at him. “Tranquil Wolf Hotel is a part of Tenoch, is it not? So if you guard here, you will be fulfilling your vow!”
“I serve where my queens order me to serve.”
“Then ask them if you can guard here. They should want a hotel to flourish here.”
“How many hotels are there in Atlan?” Edmund grumbled.
“Not enough.” Dudley laughed heartily. “I’m thinking I might expand the place. Have another level but on the top. We need more rooms. So many people have been flooding Atlan. I knew having a hotel would be the way to go! Once I pay off my debt to…” He trailed off, eyeing Edmund with a look the knight did not appreciate at all.
In fact, Edmund did not like it enough that he had another swallow, figuring he would not appreciate what it was his brother would have to say next.
And he was right.
“Don’t you think it’s about time you find yourself a woman?” Dudley asked. “A wife, I mean. I know the perfect woman for you. Not like the ones here. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Kaylie. You aren’t supposed to be listenin’ to my conversations anyhow. What was I saying? Oh, right. I know a woman you’ll like. You like women with brown hair, right?”
Dully, Edmund nodded, hating himself for thinking of a particular lady with brown locks and steely blue eyes.
“She has brown hair and a nice smile, and she’s a few years younger than you are. A bit rail thin, but if you fatten her up, I’m sure her hips will be plenty big for you to pump out a few kids. What do you say? You want to meet her?”
“I do not need you to tell me who I should marry,” Edmund said stiffly.
"I know you think you're better than me, what with you being a knight and all that, but I have a wife. I have a business. I'm doing mighty well for myself—Horace, you need to get out of here. Your ugly mug ain't welcome here! Torid, you better not cheat. The boys aren't playin' nice today, and I'm sick of cleaning your blood off the floor. You'll wipe it up next time, ya hear? Sorry, Edmund—Horace! I mean it!"
Edmund placed his cup back on the counter.
“Do you want… You didn’t finish yet,” the serving girl said. Her top was so tight and lifted that her chin almost rested on her chest.
“I’m good. Seen enough. Heard enough,” Edmund growled.
Dudley had shifted away already, trying to break up a fistfight. If he really did have the coin to hire a guard, he could hire someone else. Edmund wasn’t interested in the position or the lady he’d mentioned.
Like it or not, Edmund lied to himself and told himself he wasn’t interested in Tatum either.
48
Queen Rosalynne Rivera
Alchemy. It was considered a noble pursuit for gentlemen but not for ladies. History dictated that female alchemists, without fail, all become corrupted, and all had to be put down, killed, or else had been killed in the pursuit of their unquenchable thirst for more knowledge and power.
Tatum Hill had already used her considerable knowledge for the betterment of Tenoch. She had donated time, supplies, and potions for healing and to enhance the knights so that they would be on much more even footing with the superior warriors from Vincana. Like it or not, Rosalynne could not deny that the Vincanans warriors were stronger and more powerful than those hailing from Tenoch.
Although Rosalynne had never cared for the guard Tiberius Davis, she called for him outside of a small parlor.
“I would appreciate it if you would go and fetch Tatum Hill for me. She might be at her shop, Mermaid’s Tears. It is of great importance that you bring her to me and me alone. Do you understand?”
“Of course, My Queen.” Tiberius bowed his head but made no move to leave.
She appraised the watery-eyed guard. “Do you wish to say something?”
“I do,” he muttered. “I… Forgive me.”
“For what? For spying for Greta? You have already made amends—”
“That is not all I have done.”
“You told me about what Sabine had you do with the prisoners. What else have you done for the Granthams?”
“Not that,” he grumbled. “Noll.”
Rosalynne blinked a few times. Her swallow pained her throat terribly. “Did you… Did Greta have you… Did you strike him?”
“No! No, My Queen. Nothing… I… I wasn’t always the nicest to him. When he was alive, I… I would make remarks. Snide ones. I… I did not serve him as a guard should, and I… I’m glad his murderer paid with her life, but I…”
“You wish you had been kinder to him when he still lived,” she said softly.
He nodded miserably, his gaze fixed to the floor. “If you wish to send me from the castle, to put me on the front lines against the Vincanans or even the dragons, I will. I… I would deserve it.”
“Tiberius?”
“Yes?”
“I already asked what I want from you,” she reminded him.
“Ah, yes. Of course.” He hastily bowed, his form terrible, and he rushed off.
The guard must be part-horse as he brought Tatum Hill to the castle within twenty minutes. He rushed away again as if he could not bear to be in Rosalynne’s presence a second more than was required.
“You called for me, My Queen?” Tatum asked. She wore a simple dress, a green that complemented her blue eyes. Her brown locks were tied back with a leather thong. Although she appeared a bit wan and worn, she smiled brightly, her hands clasped together over her growing belly.
"How are you faring?" Rosalynne asked, wondering if she should ask about the pregnancy and then opting not to. If Tatum wished for it to be acknowledged, Rosalynne would, but she would defer to the alchemist’s preference. “Do you need anything?”
“More ingredients. More vials.”
“No, no. Not for alchemy, not for your work. You yourself, what do you need?”
Tatum chuckled. “Sleep.”
“Restive, deep sleep. Don’t we all.”
The two shared a laugh.
“Sit,” Rosalynne bade, gesturing to the plush chairs. She sat and waited for Tatum to do likewise before gesturing to the leather-bound book on the oval wooden table between them. “I believe that belongs to you.”
“My grimoire! I was hoping to have it back. The would-be alchemist, has he finished with it then?”
Rosalynne considered the alchemist a moment. “You do not know who studied this.”
“No. I only know… Queen Sabine asked for it for a gentleman. She did not mention his name.”
“Because there was no gentleman,” Rosalynne said evenly.
“I… I do not understand,” Tatum said, her tone soft, her surprise clearly not feigned. “Do you mean to say…”
“I trust you, Tatum. You have done great good for Tenoch, and people will never forget that.”
Tatum stared from the grimoire to the queen and back again. “I…”
“The grimoire belongs with you, not here in the castle.”
“Thank you,” Tatum murmured. She rose from the chair to claim it but then sat back down, her fingers not even brushing against the cover. “Do you think… Could you, I, and Sabine all speak together? I… If it’s not too bold of me to suggest, but I think that might be wise.”
“I concur,” Rosalynne said easily enough, forcing a smile, unwilling to allow anyone, even someone she trusted, to know just how she felt about the other queen.
Rosalynne knew who her enemies were, and she counted Sabine among them. For now, sh
e would keep a close eye on the other queen, but that did not mean she had to relish speaking with her. Quite the contrary.
49
Olympia Li
The days seemed long, the nights longer. Atlan Castle was so far away and yet so close. It hurt Olympia to be so close to the building that had once been her home.
For all of a few minutes.
Had her mother even had a chance to hold her? To kiss her forehead? Had her father laid eyes on her? She had been told by Dong Han about her parents, but she could not recall if he had ever told her those specific details or not.
And now, he was dead like most everyone in her life that she had ever cared about.
Bjorn was sleeping, fitfully like always, but at least he wasn’t muttering or crying out. She hesitated and placed a hand on his shoulder. As she had discovered a week ago, maybe even further out, whenever she touched him as he slumbered, he would settle down. Only on one occasion had it failed, that time when she woke him fully. But now, he quieted, his sleep deepening, restful instead of agitative.
She wanted to trust him, the brown-haired fighter from Maloyan. That the wraith ignored him should give her cause to trust him all the more, but the issue was that she did not know where that line of trust should end.
She trusted his blade, for him to guard her, to fight alongside her. Did she trust his council, though? Did she trust his mind? His heart?
Her heart?
With his sharp nose, piercing eyes, thick lips, and strong jawline, Bjorn Ivano could claim the heart of most any lady he met. Olympia was not so easily swayed by looks, but he had made a surprisingly wonderful companion. He had been rough and coarse and rude when they first met, but when she had spent those long days and nights tending to him, nursing him back to health… all of the long conversations they had… They were friends, and she suspected that if she were willing, they might become a bit more.
But she was not willing, and she surveyed the surrounding beach with a critical eye. Nothing was amiss. Bjorn would be safe if he continued to slumber.