by M A Price
Everything a prince needed.
He walked in and shut the thick wooden door behind him. The Queen had moved to the large window and drawn the red curtains. The only light came from the twelve candles around the walls. She placed herself in front of one of the candle holders, its flames appeared to cast a halo around her; though the light made her skin look yellow and pallid. Despite her terrible situation and the family this woman belonged to, Katanya couldn’t help but feel pity at the hollow sadness that she seemed to carry. If what she had heard was true...
Katanya was pushed onto the chest where the Prince had previously sat. The soldier’s thick hands seemed to withdraw, but the three of them surrounded her.
The situations she managed to get herself in-
The Prince stood tall, her knife in his hands. He appeared to be admiring the hilt more than getting ready to use the weapon. The vision of him holding the knife Kyllian had given her made her stomach flip.
“Who are you?” Reyn Landress finally asked.
The Queen moved towards the door, her footsteps as silent as a wraith. “I have to go. Just…deal with this please.” She kissed her son on the head and left, one final glower in Katanya’s direction.
The soldier seemed to relax more as soon as she was gone. He moved to sit where the Queen had been when Katanya had peeked in and his shoulders lost their previous stoop. She couldn’t help but be intrigued. He was obviously frightened of the Queen; but why? She clearly didn’t agree with her husband, but to be here, surely, he didn’t either?
“I know you’re not working for my father. This weapon was made in the Black Lands. He doesn’t use any steel from there and you’re not his usual type,” he paced slightly and then bent to study her face. “I saw you today. In the kitchens.” He looked towards the other man, who seemed far more clueless than he himself did. “I remember thinking you don’t look like any scullery maid I’ve ever seen before. You don’t look like you’ve even worked kitchens before in your life. Who are you?”
“Clearly you should make sure your father hires more attractive kitchen staff.” She thought of Kress’ innocent smile as she said the words. She was really buying time; unsure of what this man would do and certainly of what she should say.
To her surprise he laughed. It sounded real but uncomfortable; as if this prince was not a man who laughed often or knew how.
“You’ve definitely got character, I’ll give you that.”
“Oh, in abundance.”
He smirked and astounded her even more as he passed her the knife from his hands.
“I’m not in the habit of keeping people’s property,” he stated, lowering himself to sit on the table.
“I think you’re here when you’re not meant to be. I think you’ve snuck in and you were outside spying on us. Looking for something or someone.” Katanya just looked back at him, keeping her face as impassive as possible.
He hadn’t been wrong so far.
“You have an impressive weapon and you seem to constantly be thinking of your next move. I’d bet you’re a far superior soldier to my friend here.” Reyn gestured to the soldier who nodded in agreement. What kind of warrior would admit such an inadequacy?
“My guess is you’re with The Guild. You’re here because you received a note along with the body of Becca Youchnore, a note that I wrote. I think you might be looking for us and I think we can help each other more than you know." Katanya's power pulsed as she tried to hide the fact she was impressed.
“I’d also make a guess that your name is Katanya and you’re incredibly annoyed and upset about a woman that you considered to be a mother dying. If you are Katanya then you’ll certainly be the soldier I think you are and probably more. Becca Youchnore spoke very highly of you.”
Katanya felt the air leave her body.
Becca had made them a friend.
Brodanna’s Prince had been her confidant and could be The Guild's only hope.
This was the last thing she’d ever expected. She should have known Becca didn’t do things by halves.
And Reyn Landress seemed like an incredibly quick man.
One she wouldn’t want as an enemy and one she really wasn’t sure she wanted as an ally.
"And if I am?"
He reached out a pale cream hand. "Then we have much to discuss." It took all her self-restraint not to clutch it.
Some days life certainly did give you the horrible choices.
Fifty-Four - Camrin
The camp without Ivloch, was a place Camrin Cassidy despised.
For so long he had wanted the leadership role and the respect that came with it. As it turned out, he wanted to be the one out on the mission not the one left babysitting the homestead. He never doubted the importance of keeping them safe, training them and doing what was needed.
It just wasn’t enough.
Jengen had waited for him in the pavilion that morning. They made plans for the day quickly. Yenna was to lead a supply raid. Jengen was to serve as master at arms; their archers needed more practice than was healthy, and Camrin could think of no better tutor for them.
He should have given himself something to do; but he needed a rest, a break from the monotony.
“I’m going to go for a ride, do you know where Idyn is?” it was an old question. A force of habit more than something he actually wanted to ask.
Jengen turned from master marksman and capable tutor into a shy maiden before his eyes.
“Well…erm…Idyn...well... he might be by the…erm…water with Miss…erm.”
“Mara. He is with Mara. Are they training?” Camrin sounded icy, even to his own ears.
“Yes sir.”
He dismissed himself from the tent, leaving Jengen to implement their agenda and started walking. Riding could be forgotten; he hadn't picked a new favoured mount since his own had perished at the Facility and was reluctant to do so. He couldn't even recall the name Idyn had demanded giving the beast.
People called to him; waves and exclamations, wishes to talk. He ignored them all, only replying with the odd grunt. Ivloch would have talked to them; he knew that. Each and every one. A smile here, a handshake there, a pretend sword fight with an excited child. Camrin wasn’t that type of man. He didn’t know how, nor if he wanted to be.
There hadn’t even been a lover since Elex. No man or woman that caught his attention. Her hold over him lasting longer than she had.
He didn’t realise where his legs were taking him until he was halfway through the woodland, the river not far ahead. He considered turning back, but curiosity won. There must have been some reason his legs had carried him this way. That he had subconsciously let them.
He considered his movements carefully. Cautious not to step on any branches or be heard. Enough people used this path now that there was no unexpected foliage to declare his approach.
He hid in the treeline to watch them.
They were both there, along with some stick men they had obviously made from branches, tied together with twine. She wouldn't have had to make them alone this time.
Mara was trying to strike them with her magic, pushing them back, cutting them in half. Idyn was cheering whenever she got one. The look of shock never faded from her face as if she didn’t believe she could do it. As if she hadn't accomplished so much more the night of Becca's funeral.
She had got better, even he could begrudgingly admit that. Katanya would be impressed when she returned. Full of more praise for their supposed saviour. For Elex's choice.
She stopped and focused her attention on the last remaining stick man, the other four crumpled or on their back. Her hand was raised towards it, a look of such concentration across her face. A flare erupted from her palm to hit it squarely in the middle of its body. The stick man flew apart in four different directions. One branch came nearer to him than he was comfortable with but neither Mara or Idyn even so much as glanced at the treeline.
She screamed in happiness as Idyn ran towards her. He hel
d her in his arms and twirled her in the air; Mara's green cape catching in the wind.
“You are amazing Mara Lars.”
“I’m not, but I did it! Did you see?!”
“I watched every second,” he replied, lowering her to the floor and kissing her passionately.
A kiss that seemed to go on too long, making Camrin angry and guilty for watching all at the same time.
He had told Mara to talk to Idyn, he reminded himself harshly.
Thoughts of Elex tried to push themselves into his head again. He wouldn't let them, instead he turned around to go back the way he had come.
Idyn was definitely busy this moon. Like every other moon.
Perhaps he could find Dexter, tell him whatever duty he was supposed to be doing could wait. He wanted someone to spar with.
A way to fight. To feel something.
If that failed, there was always a drink that could keep him company.
An inn in a village he could travel to alone and unnoticed. Anywhere that wasn't here and failing at the one thing he was meant to do.
Fifty-Five - Katanya
Jaxon led her out the side entrance from the kitchen. She blinked back amazement as she saw the intricate gardens surrounding them. There were so many flowers and strange creatures swimming across the pond.
“I didn’t know this was here!”
“Few do, it’s quite ridiculous considering nobody ever uses this section of the grounds,” Jaxon stationed himself on the bench which overlooked the glistening water. “They’re probably my favourite part of this place though.”
She understood why as she reluctantly sat next to him. Kress had seen him come into the kitchens and demand her company as soon as breakfast ended. She was rather convinced Kress now thought they were lovers and horrified at the idea. There was nothing wrong with Jaxon; but he was far from her type.
Even far from Kallie the kitchen girl’s type. If she ever went undercover again, she would have to remind Jengen to be slightly more inventive with names.
Things had been different since she found him and Reyn. They had told her everything they knew about what was happening in the palace. Jaxon had shed a tear as he admitted his time with Becca. Whilst Reyn sung her praises, a sincerity under his dark lashes that felt intense.
Katanya had conversed with them daily, Reyn had discovered more than her or Jax and shared it with his customary arrogance. He had mainly investigated through his mother, or little remaining influence at court, but the information had proven useful.
She had been forced to attend Reyn at a ball, held in Tonkara’s only theatre. It had been the worst part of her mission so far. Not only had they discovered the city elite seemed to have no idea what was happening at the palace, but the Prince had managed to nearly get in a fight with the owner, Huxley Jebez, for his consistent leering in her direction.
Something about Reyn wanting to fight her battles irked. As vexing as her mind found him, it was difficult to imagine why he would call such a vile man his friend.
The food and lavish gown had only moderately made up for the pain and pompous company.
There had almost been moments she enjoyed it; that was before she remembered whose arm she was forced to cling to or why.
The news of Jaxon’s Mark had been the biggest surprise. Another Guardian. Hidden under The Unforgiven's noses all along. One that defied all history to have power and have successfully, at least, temporarily removed his Mark. It was bigger than her, the sort of problem that gave her a migraine to think about. Ivloch could sort that one out. She hoped. The Prince had asked for theories, but she refused to play guessing games with him.
She wasn’t sure what she thought of Reyn. He was horrendously handsome, but he knew it. The women of the palace had hardly kept the fact from him. She sensed the way his attention tended to remain on her and thoroughly ignored it. He seemed an honest man, if not slightly more reserved the longer she spent with him. He also seemed spoilt, vain and arrogant.
Maybe growing up in a place with elaborate gardens nobody ever saw did that to you.
“There they are,” Jaxon pointed to Reyn coming around the corner from the entrance to the palace, a short woman, silver hair bound around her scalp padded along next to him.
“Jaxon, how wonderfully observant you are. M'lady.” he greeted them both. Jaxon laughed but silenced quickly at the look on Katanya’s face. Reyn had called her that all night at the theatre and was well aware it irritated her.
“Lovely to see you too Prince. Have you bought any more outfits today?” His jacket was a green silk material which fit him annoyingly well. She was certain he had trimmed his beard again too.
“Maybe. Are you jealous?” She was tempted to use her power to trip him up, but it would have revealed her abilities. None of them had asked if she was a User so she presumed Becca had held her secret. She was quite reluctant to offer up the information herself, considering where they were.
Her chance to retort further was stopped by the girl jumping between them.
“You’re Katanya.”
“Last time I checked. I don’t believe we’re meant to shout about it here though.”
“Oh shit, sorry,” Jala reached her hand out. “My name is Jala, miss. Becca…she was my friend.”
Katanya’s heart melted slightly at the earnest expression on the woman’s face. She looked like the sort that Becca would befriend. The girl was pulling at her uniform, curses streaming from her mouth that would have made Ivloch proud.
“Here it is!” she passed her a piece of parchment, dented at the sides.
“What is that?” she enquired, conscious of the long breath Jaxon took as he saw it. Reyn simply took a step back, his earlier playfulness completely missing.
Jala came close enough that Katanya could make out little rings on each of her fingers. She wondered if that fit Jefferson’s uniform policy.
“I was with Becca when she found out she was to be executed. She gave me some messages for you and your friends. There on this parchment. I’ve been carrying them with me, hoping beyond hope that I’d be able to deliver them one day, but I think that’s on you now.”
Katanya took the paper reluctantly from Jala. She felt the girl and Jax’s eyes on her. Reyn had turned his back, a sudden interest in the pond. “Let’s give her a moment people,” he suddenly interjected pulling them both away. She appreciated it, even if she hadn’t expected such consideration from him.
She read the words written in Jala’s elaborate hand three times before she let them sink in. Becca had made them an ally and found a way to say goodbye.
Kallie the kitchen girl used the gardens to weep that morning.
***
Jala brought her a tissue after a while, full of apologies and interrogations.
“Did I do the right thing giving it to you? I thought…”
“You did. Thank you Jala.” The girl beamed at her and Katanya made a promise to herself to let no one hurt her. A favour to Becca.
Jaxon eventually scampered off, Jala in tow, claiming they were already late for their shift and leaving her with the Prince.
“She loved you very much.”
“Was she brave?”
“I’ve never met a braver woman Katanya, apart from perhaps you.”
“You haven’t met many interesting women then.”
“You would be surprised.”
He walked her to her room, ignoring the jealous looks of ladies and servants alike.
“You have quite the fan club.”
“I’d be jealous if I saw someone beside you also.”
"Do those lines actually work on any one?" She wanted to shake him. "Or do you just have a penchant for attempting to flirt with your enemies? I thought you would be able to elicit far more interesting ways to cause trouble."
"I'm sure I'll find a way to surprise you. Perhaps next time we go on a mission I'll actually give you a dance."
"I'm not a puppet and this isn't a game."
"No, but it's nice to have a reason to stay alive."
She ignored him, sending him on his way with more questions she wanted answered for The Guild.
Then she fell into her tiny room and clutched Becca Youchnore’s last words tight to her chest. Ivloch would be on his mission to the Black Lands and if he never made it back, he would never get to read them. All she wanted was to return to camp and show him. See Mara's face and talk to a friend.
She forced herself to remember those things would come in time.
They were why she was here, and the mission was, despite its difficulties, going better than she could have dreamed.
A few more answers and Ballaca could take her home.
Fifty-Six - Jaxon
Jaxon was tired as he weaved his way through the city streets. It had been a long day and he knew he hadn’t had enough tonic for this, even if Katanya helping Jala make it had improved the strength.
He should be resting; sweat was already across his brow and power howled through his body demanding release.
“If we ever make it through all this shit, then I’ll teach you how to control it,” Katanya promised him. She held onto his left arm and was acting perfectly like a drunk. If he didn’t know she hadn’t touched a drop, or she didn’t usually dress in such a manner he would have taken her for the whore she pretended to be.
“You don’t sound convinced that’s going to happen.”
“Well I’m not much of a betting woman, too much bad luck.”
She winked at him but he could tell she was trying to add a jest to her words, but he heard the truth behind them.
He took her hand and pulled her slowly in the direction of the slums, where Jala and Reyn would be waiting in a tavern for them. The Green Cult was a dive, a dive that no self-respecting soldier would ever be seen in. It certainly wouldn’t ever be discussed if you did recognise a fellow worker; the embarrassment of your own patronage far too high.