The Blacksmith Queen

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The Blacksmith Queen Page 18

by Aiken G. A.


  “No. Amhuinns had many herbs inside her to make pain go ’way. Her problem, less physical, more . . .” She tapped her forefinger against her temple. “My guess, something truly bothers her. But she cannot face it.”

  Caid could guess what was bothering Keeley, what she couldn’t face. Her family meant everything to her.

  Gemma walked over to her sister’s side, ignoring the warning growls of the wolves, and picked up her sister’s hand, held it between both of hers. She leaned down, gazing thoughtfully at Keeley before she screamed, “Wake up, you ridiculous cow, and face this shit!”

  Keran, scratching her forehead and grimacing, said, “Uhhh . . . Gemma?”

  * * *

  Keeley waved away the loud gnat flying around her and went back to petting her friend.

  She loved it here. All green and lush with a lovely stream and big boulders for her to sit on. Why would she ever leave?

  “Oy! You! Woman!”

  Keeley continued to pet her friend and ignored the male voice barking at her. He’d been barking at her for a while and she kept trying to ignore him, but he was starting to get on her nerves.

  A big hand waved in front of her face. Long fingers snapped a few times.

  “I know you can hear me!”

  Her friend growled and the male voice said, “That’s not even supposed to be here.”

  Finally, grudgingly, Keeley looked up—and up—at the being in front of her.

  “What do you want?” she asked, not even attempting to be polite. She was in no mood to be polite.

  “Why are you still here?” he asked.

  “Why do you have eight legs?”

  “What?” He looked down at himself. The horse part. “What are you babbling about?”

  “You have eight legs.”

  “So?”

  “It’s strange. Don’t you think it’s strange?”

  “I’m a centaur god. So no, I don’t think it’s strange.”

  “But the centaurs only have four legs, soooo—”

  “Can we stop talking about my legs?”

  Keeley was about to tell him not to yell at her, but her furry friend did it for her. Rolling onto his belly, snarling and snapping at the god; eyes of fire blazing.

  The centaur god leaned down from his extremely high position and bellowed, “You’re not even supposed to be here!”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “It’s not one of the hells.”

  “So? He’s here for me.”

  “Your ancestors wait over there,” the god pointed out.

  “I know. I can hear them. But I am not ready to face them.” Keeley bowed her head. “In my shame.”

  “Oh, for the love of me, stop it! You are not to blame for your sister, idiot woman.”

  “Then who is? I raised her more than my parents did. They were busy trying to put food on the table. So I took over . . . and she is what I created.”

  “Is that why you sit here? Feeling sorry for yourself? When others wait for you. Wait for your return!”

  “Why would they wait for me? I’m a failure.”

  “Dammit, woman, how could you raise a creature that had no soul to begin with? Your sister was born the way she is. A soulless thing with only one ambition. To fill up the emptiness inside her with power. Nothing else will mean anything to her. You were taught blacksmithing by your mother and to respect the power of animals by your father. But your love of nature and people . . . that came from within you. From your soul. Your sister will never have that.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m dead now.”

  “You are not”—he cleared his throat, stopped bellowing—“You are not dead, woman. That’s why you sit here and not with your ancestors. Because you’re not dead. You just refuse to go back. So you sit here, on your rock with your pet demon wolf god—”

  “Are you a god?” she happily asked her fur-covered friend. “Aren’t you the prettiest god ever?”

  “—and pretend that you can just stay here forever rather than facing the remainder of your life!”

  “What do you want me to do?” Keeley finally asked.

  “To face your future and your sister.”

  “I won’t kill my sister. Despite what she’s done, she’s still family.”

  “She tried to kill you. If she were slightly stronger or you were a little weaker . . . you’d be dead now.”

  “She’s blood. I won’t kill my own blood. Besides”—she sighed out—“I won’t say I deserved it, but sometimes I can be difficult. A little hard-headed. Sometimes unreasonable.”

  “Wow.” The god blinked wide. “You really do care about your family. I’ve had several of my siblings attempt to destroy me and I’ve never made excuses for them.”

  “But you are kind of an asshole, so is it really surprising they tried to—”

  “You can stop now.” He glared down at the wheezing demon wolf god that seemed to be laughing at him. “Both of you can stop.”

  “Are you sure I’m supposed to live?” Keeley wanted to know. “Are you sure you haven’t done something to me? You and my sister bringing me back, half human and rotting.”

  “Trust me, woman, when I say that you are not my first choice for anything. If you had died, I’d have let you die. It would have meant nothing to me. But,” he added, “a wound like yours can take months to truly heal and even longer for you to be at your best. I have sped up that process so that you can hit the ground running. Because Beatrix is not waiting. And whether you kill her or not, you need to realize one thing: She is still a danger to you—”

  “I don’t care—”

  “—and the entire world.”

  Keeley’s breath caught; she stared at him.

  “What? You think a woman willing to kill the sister who’s always protected her would think twice about destroying whole kingdoms to get what she wants? She is determined, your sister, to rule this world. And she will not let anyone get in her way. Even if she fails, many will die. Many will die anyway, but you could help minimize the number. At the very least, give all those worthless humans something to hope for. Unless,” he added, glancing down at the demon wolf god, “it’s only your precious animals you care about.”

  Keeley took in a deep breath and then told the centaur god her true feelings....

  “I don’t like you. At all.”

  He smirked. “Woman . . . I’m a god. I don’t give a fuck.” He turned his giant horse-and-human body so he could walk off with his eight legs, but not before he tossed at her, “Of course, Beatrix thinks of herself as a god too. So imagine what her feelings are about anything.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Keeley opened her eyes and quickly realized she was in a tent. She wasn’t alone either. She could hear someone humming.

  But she didn’t feel unsafe. She didn’t feel frightened. Just angry.

  She sat up. The woman humming had her back turned to Keeley, busy doing something with herbs at a wooden table. Keeley silently swung her legs over the side of her bed. The demon wolves were in the corner. She held her finger to her lips and they settled down, silent.

  Her hammer rested against the bed and Keeley picked it up, stood . . . and walked out of the tent.

  * * *

  Petra turned away from her table with a potion-filled cup that she hoped would help the human woman awake. But when she looked at the bed, that woman was gone.

  Her gaze searched the tent but Petra didn’t see her patient. She scowled at the demon wolves that had refused to leave while she had tended the human.

  After several moments of mutual staring, she asked them, “Did you eat her?”

  * * *

  Quinn was just clearing the tree line near the lake when he saw her. She stood ankle-deep in the water with a ridiculous hammer in her hand, staring out over the water. She only wore a cotton shirt and nothing else. She didn’t seem bothered, though, by the cold.

  He looked around, expecting to see his brother and sister as well as the woma
n’s own sister and cousin, but she was alone.

  With a shrug, Quinn began to move toward her but she abruptly turned and walked out of the lake and over to a large boulder. He watched in fascination as she took the handle of her hammer in both hands, lifted it above her head, and brought it down, again and again, on the boulder. She battered that boulder for several minutes, but what Quinn couldn’t believe was that as she did, she broke the bloody thing into pieces with nothing more than that hammer and brute force.

  Finally, after the boulder was nothing but rubble, she let out a terrifying scream filled with rage and pain and utter despair.

  When the scream faded out over the river, Quinn heard, “Keeley?”

  The woman’s back straightened but she didn’t turn around. She simply pointed her hammer with one hand and asked, “What did you know and when did you know it?”

  The War Monk briefly closed her eyes. “I didn’t know she was going to try to—”

  “What did you know and when did you know it?” the woman asked again, not to be deterred.

  “My order found out about her from our seer. A few days before I arrived at your shop. That she would be named queen. None of my leaders told me, though, because they planned to have her killed. One of the elders, a friend, warned me. But . . . she’s still my sister, so . . .”

  Now Keeley faced her. “You deserted your order for Beatrix?”

  “Well, if I’d known she was mad, I guess I would have just let them—”

  “Did you tell the boy?”

  Gemma’s head twitched a bit. “What?”

  “Did you tell the boy that he’d be giving up his place in your order by following you?”

  “Of course I did. He insisted.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear you didn’t lie to him.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “He’s a loyal boy; he deserves a good life.”

  “And I don’t?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you’re thinking it!”

  “Oh, am I?”

  “I wasn’t the one who tried to kill you! That was your precious fucking Beatrix!”

  “I am aware that she tried to kill me! I can still feel where she shoved her knife into my gut!”

  She suddenly swung her hammer, now pointing toward him. “And who the fuck is that?”

  Gemma leaned over to look past her sister. She sighed. “That’s Quinn. Caid’s brother.”

  “His brother?” Keeley looked around. “We’re in centaur territory? Why?”

  “A lot has happened, Sister. A lot.”

  Keeley lowered her hammer and her head.

  After a brief moment, she looked at her sister and calmly said, “Tell me everything.”

  Gemma nodded. “Come on. Let’s find Laila.”

  * * *

  Caid had been gone a total of twenty minutes, if that long. His father had insisted on an update and didn’t care that Caid had not left Keeley’s side since she’d been wounded. And yet, in those twenty minutes, the gravely wounded Keeley had disappeared and no one had seen her. Petra was convinced the demon wolves had eaten her but Caid had seen them eat . . . they would have left a lot more blood and gore behind.

  Then, there she was . . . stalking out of Laila’s tent, with that stupid hammer clutched in her fist. He’d never been so happy to see such a ridiculous weapon once again gripped in her very-much-alive hand.

  “Keeley! Wait!” Laila and Gemma yelled, rushing up behind her.

  “With us,” Keeley ordered him as she stormed past, while Laila and Gemma continued trying to talk her out of something. But before Caid could move, there was Quinn.

  “With us, with us,” Quinn mocked, rushing behind the women in his human form.

  Caid gritted his teeth. “Fuck.”

  Worried his brother would make everything worse—because he usually did—Caid shifted to human and followed, but when he saw Keeley heading for the tribal chieftain’s tent, he picked up his speed. This was the one place Keeley really should not go.

  He reached her and attempted to grab her arm, but she slipped through his fingers and was in the tent before he could stop her.

  Laila growled; both she and Gemma entered the tent together, with Quinn laughing at Caid as he went in after them all.

  “Gods-dammit,” Caid muttered before he followed them.

  Laila had moved in front of Keeley, her hand pressed to Keeley’s chest to prevent her from going any farther.

  “What’s going on?” the chieftain asked, gaze moving between her children.

  “Mother,” Laila said, facing Gaira. “I beg your indulgence.”

  Quinn sat on a nearby table. “Your indulgence is being begged, Mumsie.”

  Giving that warm smile their mother seemed to reserve for Quinn, she said, “My darling son”—she motioned to his bare legs—“pull down your kilt and close your knees, dear. I don’t need the world to see your cock and balls.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  Laila gestured to Keeley. “This is Keeley Smythe, Mother. The true—”

  “Queen. Yes?”

  Keeley moved past Laila, no longer waiting for his sister to speak for her. “I’m not queen yet, but I need to be.”

  “So you can become rich and powerful like the previous Old Kings or so you can kill your sister for what she did to you?”

  “I already told that centaur with eight legs that I will not kill Beatrix.”

  “What do you mean you’re not going to kill her?” Gemma demanded.

  “Eight legs?” his mother asked. “You met a centaur with eight legs? Here?”

  “She’s our sister,” Keeley replied to Gemma first. “I’m not going to kill her and neither are you. And he didn’t give me his name,” she said to his mother, “he just said he was a god. He was very large, so I believed him.”

  “Why won’t I kill our sister? She deserves to die.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” his mother tried again, “but you spoke to Ofydd Naw? Our war god?”

  “He didn’t give me his name. And killing our sister will just put a curse on this family!”

  “Beatrix is a curse!”

  “And she’s still our sister!”

  Caid cringed again when his mother put her hands to her temples. A sure sign she was getting one of her “aching heads” as she called it.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you two bickering ninnies! But am I the only one disturbed that our gods are stopping by to say hello to a human?” His mother eyed Keeley coldly. “A human blacksmith,” she sneered.

  Gemma jumped in front of her sister as Keeley pointed her finger and informed their mother, “Blacksmithing is the most ancient and noble art in the world!”

  “Keeley,” Gemma implored, “let it go.”

  “You’re just lucky our mum isn’t here. She’d tear your skin off.”

  “I’m sorry,” his mother said, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

  Keeley frowned. “Are you?”

  “Of course. I shouldn’t have insulted you. But in spite of the fact that a god came to you—”

  “Gods.”

  His mother blinked. “Pardon?”

  “Gods. I met gods. As in plural.”

  “You met someone other than Ofydd Naw? Who else?”

  Keeley shrugged. “Not sure about the name, but he was a giant version of my wolf friends.”

  Laila’s eyes grew wide. “Your wolf friends . . . ? Do you mean the demon wolves we can’t get rid of?”

  “They’re still wolves.”

  His mother scratched her cheek. “That’s Maelgwn. The other gods use him when someone makes them angry. They’ll send him up here to destroy whole cities or entire races of people, depending on how pissed off they are.”

  Really? Keeley shrugged. “He let me rub his belly.”

  * * *

  The entire tent was sile
nt until Gaira looked at Laila with those light eyes and sweetly said, “May I speak to you for a moment, dear?”

  “No, thank you,” Laila attempted but her mother grabbed her by her hair as she walked by and dragged Laila from the tent.

  “What kind of mad human did you bring to our territory?” Gaira demanded, shoving Laila away and shifting to human so she could easily pace in front of her daughter.

  “She’s not mad. Just different.”

  Gaira stopped pacing. “She rubbed the belly of a demon god.”

  “Demon wolf god.”

  “What difference does that make?”

  “To her it makes all the difference. As far as she’s concerned . . . they’re wolves and therefore, they are more animal than evil being.”

  “Despite the eyes of flame?”

  “She just doesn’t put her hands near that area . . . so they don’t get burned.”

  Gaira moved in close and reminded her, “You do understand that one day you’ll be taking my role? As chieftain. You get that, yes? Which means you’ll be responsible for all these people. Not just the ones who can wield a sword, but the ones who farm, who heal, who make pretty jewelry. You do understand that?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then you understand bringing mad human women into their midst is stupid . . . yes?”

  “Just talk to her.”

  “I tried. She bickered with her War Monk—another discussion we’ll need to have one day—sister and talked about rubbing the belly of a demon god.”

  “And Ofydd Naw came to get her. To send her back here to battle her own sister. Or did you forget that part, Mum?”

  “Don’t call me ‘Mum.’ We’re not peasants.”

  “I know it’s hard for you to not look down on others, but I’ve fought beside Keeley. I’ve seen her with her family. I’ve seen her with her workers. I’ve seen her challenge the Witches of Amhuinn. Can she win against Beatrix? I really don’t know. But I think if we give that bitch Beatrix even the slightest chance, she will destroy all of us.”

  * * *

  “Tell me what you need, blacksmith,” the leader of the centaur clans, Chieftain Gaira, asked Keeley as they walked through her tribal lands together.

  “I need an army.”

 

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