by Aiken G. A.
“If she’s so brilliant,” Gemma said with great sarcasm, “then why shouldn’t she be queen?”
“Because she has no experience with anything. She knows nothing of war or battle or how to get and keep the loyalty of hard men. She has no allies and no royal connections. And none of the Old King’s sons will want to marry her to legitimize her that way. She has no friends and, from what I can tell, doesn’t want any. I love my sister, but I have no delusions about her, Gemma. She’s a good person and will want to do the right thing, but being queen . . .” Keeley frowned. “What’s so funny?”
“She’s a good person? Seriously?”
“She is to my eyes. Of course, how would you know one way or the other?” Keeley held up her hands. “I’m not going to fight about this with you. I’m going with her tomorrow. And, the gods willing, we’ll be back before the next full moon. I don’t know if life can go back to normal after that, but at least this upsetting part of our drama will be over.”
Keeley jumped off the table and headed toward the door. But Gemma caught hold of her forearm and held her. “Let me go with her tomorrow. You can stay and protect the family with Mum and Da.”
“You?” Keeley couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “I wouldn’t put the Amichais through that. A trip with you two. But, more importantly, you are not the one who will be there for her when she finds out the truth. You’ll rub it in her face before you comfort her.”
“Keeley—”
“I’ve made up my mind, Gemma. I know what this means to her. To be queen of the Hill Lands. And when that dream crumbles into dust, she’ll need someone who actually likes her to be there for her. That, dear sister, is definitely not you.”
* * *
“I’m not letting you go off with strangers!” Angus raged, pacing like a caged bear. “You’re my daughter! It’s my job to protect you.”
“I can care for myself,” Beatrix softly argued. “Besides, I won’t be alone. I’ll have Keeley with me.”
“And me,” Gemma suddenly piped up.
“Like hells you will!”
“Da!”
Beatrix’s flat gaze had locked onto Gemma. “I didn’t ask you to come with me.”
Gemma clapped her hands together and cheered, “Then this is a fun surprise!”
Caid cleared his throat to stop from laughing. The way she’d said that and the look her younger sister had given her revealed a brutal battle of wills. A battle their parents were completely unaware of as Angus continued to rage.
“None of you are going anywhere!” Angus bellowed. “You’ll stay here where you’re safe! With me! And your mum.”
“If you want my opinion . . .” began Archibald, who stood against a far wall.
“Gemma,” Keeley said, without even looking at her sister. And Gemma pulled a small blade from her sword belt and threw it in her uncle’s direction. She didn’t hit him, but she landed the blade in a spot quite close to his head.
Caid was impressed. The older man didn’t flinch, but he did put up his hands, palms out, and said, “I’ll mind me own.”
So he wasn’t always irrational. That was good to know.
Angus’s wife put her arm around his shoulders. “Are you done?”
Angus did look exhausted. He was breathing heavily, big shoulders heaving, concern etched into his face. “I can’t lose me girls, Em. I can’t.”
“And you won’t.” She kissed his forehead and moved so she stood in the middle of the hall. “This is what we’re going to do and none of you are going to argue with me.”
“Well—” Laila began but a raised finger stopped her.
“None of you,” the older woman insisted.
“You two”—Emma pointed at Caid and Laila—“are going to take our Beatrix to the Witches of Amhuinn. Get everything confirmed and solidified. We’ll make all our big decisions then. Keeley, Gemma, and Keran will travel with you.”
“Mum—”
“Mother—”
There went that terse finger again and both immediately fell silent. “The two centaurs, Fartness and Cud-filled—”
“Farlan and Cadell,” Laila corrected.
“—will stay here and protect the family.”
“My lady—” Laila began.
“I am no lady, centaur. I still have bits of brain and blood stuck under me tits because I have not had the time nor inclination to bathe, due to our travels. So don’t attempt your soft words with me.”
“Fine,” Laila shot back. “Farlan and Cadell are here to protect the future queen. Not her less-than-noble siblings.”
“You want the queen, lady pony, you protect the family. We’re a unit. I won’t have our youngest dragged across the lands, but I won’t leave them defenseless either.”
“You lot are hardly defenseless.”
“Without Keeley and Gemma? We’re practically naked. So, these are your choices. We all go . . . a slow, plodding way to travel with children. Or you leave those two hearty stallions to my tender care and you make great haste to the Witches of Amhuinn. Which is it?”
Laila had no choice. Not now. Not with the Devourer’s men still searching for Beatrix.
“Farlan and Cadell will stay here.”
“Good.” She returned to her husband’s side, putting her arms around him. “Now all of you might as well get as much sleep as you can. Tomorrow will be a hard, long day.”
“I’m still worried about you,” Keeley said. “What if the Devourer’s men come here?”
“So little faith in me, niece?” Archibald asked.
* * *
“If they come,” he said, leading Keeley and Caid deep into the bowels under his home, “I will get the family out this way.”
“Including my father?” Keeley asked.
“If I must.”
“You must, Uncle.”
He stopped walking, forcing Keeley to stop behind him. He looked at her over his shoulder. “You should have been my daughter, you know. All of you should have been mine.”
“That’s such a strange thing to say! Why would you say that to me?”
“Because you should know that your father stole your mother from me.”
“How did he do that?”
“He just did!”
“Maybe between the two of you, he just seemed less insane.”
“She might have said something like that.” He started down the stairs again. “But we both know the truth. That we were meant to be together.”
“If you two had gotten together, I would not be here.”
“That’s not true.”
“I may look like my mother, Uncle, but I am my father’s child. More than any of my siblings. So unless you are wishing me away . . .”
“No. Of course not.”
They finally reached the last of the stairs.
“This is steep,” Caid noted.
“It is.” Keeley took the torch from her uncle and held it high, moving a bit down the hallway. “This leads out?”
“It does. Right next to the Wenlan Docks. We can get a boat there if needed.”
“Good. Bring Mum and Da down here tomorrow. Let them see where they’ll be going. They’ll want to get the older children comfortable with coming down here as well. Especially since they’ll be carrying the little ones.” She raised the torch higher. “Make sure all these torches are lit all day, every day. You’ll never know when you’ll need to make a run for it.”
“Any other orders? Maybe you want me to dance for the children.”
Keeley reached up and pressed her palm to her uncle’s cheek, replying in all seriousness. “All I ask is that you keep my family safe.”
“For you and your mum . . . anything.”
* * *
Caid watched Archibald make his way back up the stairs until Keeley tapped his arm and motioned in the opposite direction.
They started trekking down the long tunnels.
“Making sure he’s being truthful about where this ends up?” he asked
as he followed her.
“I don’t think we need to go the entire way, but I want to make sure it doesn’t end after a few feet either.”
“He built all this by himself?”
“I hope so.”
“Why do you hope so?”
“My uncle is paranoid. If he involved some poor sod to help him build the castle, trust me when I say that poor sod is also buried somewhere under all this.”
Caid winced. “Sure it’s a good idea letting your family stay here?”
“We have little choice. Besides, my uncle may be a mad bastard, but he’s also a mad fighter. Like one of those berserkers of old. He’ll throw himself in front of an entire army if it means protecting my mother and her offspring.”
“And your father?”
“Will need to watch his back. But hopefully we won’t leave him here too long.” She continued on for a bit in silence, but Caid could tell she had more questions.
“How does this process work?” she asked.
“Process?”
“The witches.” She stopped, faced Caid. “They won’t hurt my sister, will they?”
“They just want to see her. Make sure their prophesy is correct. Consult the gods, or whatever they do.”
She frowned. “And if it’s not? If they decide she’s not queen. Will Beatrix be in danger from them?”
“Your bigger problem will always be the Old King’s sons.”
“That doesn’t really answer my question.”
“Your sister will be safe until she’s either crowned and has an army at her back or the brothers know she’s no longer their worry.”
“And how will we ensure her safety?”
“We’ll figure it out. We won’t desert you. Not after all this.”
Keeley seemed to accept that answer and began moving down the tunnel again.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” Keeley said easily, glancing back at him with a smile.
“When we were attacked at your parents’ farm . . . where were your wolves?”
“My wolves?”
Caid simply raised an eyebrow and Keeley nodded. “Oh. My friends.”
“I thought for sure you’d call them to your side.”
“They’re my friends,” she explained, briefly stopping to light a torch affixed to the wall. “But I don’t actually have control over them. I know they won’t attack me, but I can’t say the same for my family. I won’t risk my siblings.”
Caid didn’t mention that she’d happily risked him and his unit, plus poor Samuel, but what was the point? Laila could handle anything, unlike the babe still feeding at her mum’s breast or the toddlers who liked to play with the piglets.
“Can I ask you a question?” Keeley gave him that smile again and Caid immediately stopped walking.
“No. You can’t ride me.”
Keeley spun around to face him, forcing Caid to jerk his head back so the torch in her hand didn’t burn his face off.
“Oh, please!” she begged. “Just a little ride? Down this tunnel will be fine!”
“No. I am not a pony.”
“Of course you’re not! You’re a mighty stallion.”
“That’s not going to work with me either.” Arms crossed over his chest, he leaned in and said, “And tell your father to stop asking Cadell for the same thing. He’s getting cranky. And when Cadell gets cranky . . .”
“I’m very hurt,” she complained.
Caid turned her around by her shoulders and gave her a little push so that she’d keep moving. “No, you’re not. But if you keep asking, you might be more hurt than you or your father would like.”
Instead of being frightened by his stern tone, Keeley simply laughed and continued on.
* * *
Laila stood on the second-floor landing, her arms resting on the banister, and her gaze focused on the floor. She was thinking of their upcoming travels, debating strategies and all the different ways they could get to their destination. There were at least three routes they could use to reach the Witches of Amhuinn, but none of them seemed safe enough.
Since all of them were less than safe, she focused on deciding which would be the fastest.
“There you are,” Laila heard from behind her.
Young Beatrix held out a scroll. Unrolling it, Laila looked it over.
“A map?”
“Yes.” Beatrix pointed. “After some research, I think this way is the safest and fastest.”
“What about—”
“It’s true,” she cut in. “Duke Sangor’s territory is along this route, but he moves his entire household to the outer reaches of his lands from the autumn to winter seasons, which means, at most, we’ll only have to worry about a few guards getting in our way. My sisters can handle them while we keep moving.”
“Uh-huh.”
Beatrix finally looked Laila in the eyes. “I see,” she said. “My eldest sister has convinced you that I’m just a young girl with no sense.”
“Your sister never said—”
“I am young. That is true. But I’m very logical and I’m not about to put myself at risk, now am I?”
But she was willing to put both her eldest sisters in danger if it meant she could get through Sangor’s territories safely.
“Look over the map,” she insisted. “I’m sure you’ll agree with me. But if not, that’s fine too. I just ask you to keep an open mind.” She did something that she probably thought was a smile, but actually looked more like a grimace.
As soon as Beatrix went back to her room and the door closed behind her, Gemma came out of her own room and quickly made her way to Laila’s side.
“What did my sister want?”
“She gave me this map. She suggests we travel this way.”
Gemma snatched the map from Laila’s hand and studied it closely.
“Sangor’s territory,” Gemma muttered. She looked off, eyes narrowing. “He moves his household to his eastern territories in the fall and winter months. That will mean only a few of the guards will be around to protect the main house.”
“That’s what your sister said.”
Shaking her head, Gemma asked, “Why does she know that?”
“I don’t know. She’s your sister.”
“I am well aware that she’s my . . .” Gemma frowned, her focus no longer on Laila. “Now what’s that about?”
Laila looked over the railing to see her brother and Keeley enter from a back hallway. Keeley seemed to have returned to her chatty, comfortable self. Something Laila thought her brother found annoying. And yet, he didn’t appear annoyed. He didn’t exactly seem happy either, but not annoyed.
And he always looked annoyed. She couldn’t think of a time when her brother didn’t look annoyed. Just like their father.
“You know, I can’t . . . I can’t think about this right now.” Laila stepped back from the railing. “It’s just too much.”
“More than too much.” Gemma handed the map back to Laila. “I’m going to bed.”
“You seem more worried than I’d expect a War Monk to be,” Laila said before Gemma could disappear into her room. “Is that because you’re worried about the Devourer catching up with us? The Devourer finding his way here? Or are you worried about your sister being queen?”
Gemma had her hand on the door handle but glanced back at Laila. “Do I have to pick just one?”
CHAPTER 8
“You have to do it,” Keeley told Caid once more.
“I won’t. I refuse.”
The stubborn centaur had his arms crossed over that massive chest of his and his head turned away from her, but he was in his human form, so she wasn’t worried about getting kicked in the head.
“But . . . you can’t refuse,” she said, confused.
“I won’t do it.”
Keeley looked back and forth between the centaur and the horse he refused to ride.
“You do understand,” she clarified, “that we don’t have
time to walk to our destination, don’t you?”
“Yes. So I’ll—”
“What? Go as your true self? Even when we pass towns and cities? Does that really make sense to you? We were lucky we made it through the first time, and we didn’t pass any towns on the way here.” She held the reins close to his face. “We don’t have time to argue about this! Get on the fuckin’ horse!”
Growling, Caid snatched the reins from her grasp. “I won’t use that saddle. Just a blanket.”
“Fine. But with you in a kilt, the inside of your thighs will be less than happy over the next few days.”
“Then make it a soft blanket!”
Keeley quickly made herself busy removing the saddle from Brim. A good, solid gelding that was easy to handle and wouldn’t feel the need to compete with a very stallion-like centaur. She kept her head down so Caid wouldn’t see her laughing. She knew he wouldn’t like it.
His sister came out from the castle and stopped when she saw her brother holding Brim’s reins.
“Oh,” she said. “We’re riding them.”
Still laughing, but also fed up, Keeley turned on the female centaur.
“We have no choice! Are you two kidding me?”
“I was just asking!” Laila snapped. “No need to get hysterical.”
“I’m not hysterical. I’m just . . . confused! No one’s asking you two to eat one! Just fucking ride the thing!”
She pulled the saddle off. “This is Brim,” she told Caid. “And that’s Frannie,” she told Laila. “Good, solid horses that will give you no problems as long as you both don’t act like wankers!”
Laila cleared her throat. “Well . . . thank you.”
Samuel rushed out of the stables with three more horses.
“What are you doing?” Keeley asked him.
“My horse and Sir Gemma’s horses.”
“Sir Gemma can take one horse.” She looked at the three who were currently making her life difficult. “Do any of you understand what we’re doing here? We’re not going into battle,” she snapped at Samuel. “And you’re not making a moral statement,” she informed the siblings. “So cut the shit!”
“Gods bless all of you!” Gemma happily announced from the courtyard steps, and it took all of Keeley’s strength not to fling a sword at her. Just on principle.