by Aiken G. A.
“You’ll have to give me a very good reason to assign my warriors to you.”
“No, no,” Keeley felt the need to insist. “I need an army.”
“Are you saying my warriors are not good enough for you?”
“No. I’m saying I need a big army. Big. Beatrix has access to at least half of the Old King’s armies. Cyrus the Honored has the other half.”
“So what you truly need are allies.”
“I do, but I’m nobody.”
Gaira stopped, wagged her forefinger at Keeley. “Ah-ah-ah. Never say that. You are the true queen prophesized by the Witches of Amhuinn.”
“Who are no longer here to verify it.”
“They’re not dead. Just moved. If you want allies, you need to be that true and prophesized queen. You need to make potential allies promises that you’ll one day be able to deliver on.”
“That means gold? Because I don’t have gold.”
Gaira shrugged. “Mhmm. Not all promises mean gold. Sometimes they mean . . . marriage. Perhaps marry a duke or baron with a substantial army?”
Keeley couldn’t help but pull her lips back in a grimace.
“I . . . I can’t do that.”
“Looking for love, are you?”
“It would be nice.”
“Well,” Gaira went on, “I have another option. It’s a little . . . dangerous. And I’m sure my children would disagree with me out of fear for your safety. But it might be an option for you. Maybe the only option you actually have if marriage is off the table.”
“It is.”
Gaira began walking again, and Keeley moved with her.
“Well then, there are more races in the Amichai territories than just centaurs. And at least with one of those races, you might have more in common than you might think. . . .”
Following the Chieftain’s train of thought, Keeley froze, gawked at Gaira.
“Do . . . do you mean the Amichai dwarves?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
When Keeley clasped her hands together and bounced up and down on her toes, Gaira added, “So I guess you’ve heard of them . . . ?”
Keeley replied to that by squealing and jumping around the chieftain. She couldn’t help herself! The Amichai dwarves!
Gaira nodded. “All right then . . .”
* * *
Caid stared at his mother. “Why would you tell her that?”
“Why wouldn’t I? It’s a very good idea.”
“It’s a mad idea. Mad. The dwarves will crush her bones. The elves will strip her flesh. And the barbarians will make her into soup.”
Gaira moved past him, wrapping a scarf around her neck as the evening became cooler. “Stop being so dramatic. None of them are that bad.”
“No, they’re worse.”
“She needs allies.”
“Human allies. Not dwarves and elves that loathe humans.”
“The barbarians are mostly human . . . like.”
“Mother, be serious.”
Gaira turned away from the large mirror she’d been looking into and now gazed at her son.
“Why are you so worried about her?”
“You sent us off to protect the future queen of the Hill Lands. She’s that future queen.”
Gaira raised a brow and moved toward her son. “Are you interested in her?”
“Mother—”
“By the mighty tail of Ofydd Naw, you are interested in her.” She leaned in and whispered, “Despite those shoulders?”
“Mum.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Yes, I know. We’re not peasants. And she’s a strong woman. She has shoulders that go with that strength.”
“Hhhmhm. I see.”
“Do you? Because I think you entirely misunderstand—”
“Blah, blah, blah! I don’t want to hear it! You’re just like your father, you know. He used to say I was too skinny for him. But he loves my skinny ass.”
“I’m leaving.” Caid walked toward the tent flap. “And I’ll be going with Keeley when she leaves.”
“Stop.”
Caid let out a breath, faced his mother.
“I did not give you or your sister permission to go anywhere.”
“She’s going and so am I. Especially if you’re sending Keeley into hostile territories.”
“You don’t know if they’ll be hostile to her.”
“They’re hostile to everyone. That’s why one lives inside the mountains. The other lives high in trees. And who the mighty hells knows where the barbarians live, but we all know to stay away from their lands.” Caid threw his hands up. “Are you trying to get her killed?”
“No. I’m trying to get her an army. And she has no time. Marius won’t give her any. So she’ll have to make do with a smaller army, which means that it will need to be meaner.”
* * *
Keeley placed her hammer by her bed and took the chalice of wine Laila handed her.
“This will not be easy,” Laila said, now handing Gemma a chalice of water.
Gemma sat in a thick wooden chair with her boots and socks off. She was stretching her tired feet.
“I know,” Keeley replied, “but I think your mother’s right. It’s not like I have a lot of choices here. But if I can get the dwarves on my side first, I think I can make all this work.”
Laila took the platter of cheese, meat, and bread from the centaur who’d brought it and placed it on a small table by Keeley’s bed.
“I’m going with you,” Laila said.
“I can’t ask you—”
“It’s not up for discussion. Besides, who else will keep you two from bickering yourselves to death?”
“I’ll be there,” Keran offered from a spot in the corner of the tent, her chair turned around, her legs splayed on either side of its back.
“You enjoy their fights,” Laila reminded her. “So I don’t really see that helping.”
“Eh. You have a point.”
“You don’t even try to disagree,” Gemma noted.
“I really don’t.”
Laila motioned to Keeley’s sister and cousin. “We’ve got tents for you two. Separate ones, so everyone can relax tonight.”
“Me own tent?” Keran stood, grinning. “How luxurious!”
Laila was heading toward the tent flap but it was pulled back and her eldest brother walked in. He was in his human form but he was just as imposing as when he was centaur.
Immediately, Laila held up her hands. “Whatever you’re planning, Quinn, don’t.”
Quinn waved his sister off as he came toward Keeley. She reached back, wrapping her hand around her hammer, finding the feel of it reassuring.
He stopped in front of her. “You’re going to see the dwarves, elves, and barbarian tribes?”
“That’s the plan.”
“And this was my mother’s brilliant idea?”
“Yes.”
He stared at her for an unreasonably long time before he spun around and walked back out.
“What was that?” Keeley asked Laila.
“I have no idea. I stopped trying to figure out my brother a very long time ago.”
* * *
Caid was heading toward the tent he’d been told Keeley was in when his sister cut in front of him.
“Have you seen Quinn?”
“No. But I’ve purposely not been looking for him.”
“He’s acting stranger than usual.”
“Quinn is a firm believer in keeping everyone on their hooves by being the most unpredictable horse in the herd.”
“It’s like having a pet pit dog. You never know when he might snap.”
Caid gestured to Keeley’s tent. “How’s she doing?”
“Amazing. She wakes up from near death and is ready to not only take on her bitch sister and Prince Marius but the entire world.” Laila placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m leaving with her tomorrow.”
“It might be a suicide mission.�
�
“So you’re not coming, Brother?”
“Don’t be stupid.” He pushed her aside, ignoring her laugh. “Of course I’m coming.”
The demon wolves surrounded Keeley’s tent and the gray mare stood inside the circle but outside the tent. He stopped to stroke her muzzle.
“If they make you nervous,” he said to her softly, “leave. We’ll find you before we go.”
Caid ignored the growls as he pulled open the tent flap and stepped inside. At first, he thought it was empty . . . but then the wolves wouldn’t be outside protecting it. They wouldn’t protect an empty tent. They would follow Keeley wherever she went.
Staying silent, Caid moved through the large tent until he heard the breathing. He followed the sound until he found Keeley on the floor, curled into a corner, panting.
He crouched beside her, pushed her black hair off her face. “Keeley?”
She looked up at him, those dark eyes filled with panicked tears, and said, “Every one of you is going to die, and it’ll be my fault. All my fault.”
CHAPTER 18
“You’re all going to die. I’m going to destroy the centaurs. I’m going to kill my family. The dogs—”
“Wolves.”
“—and that poor gray mare.” Tears now flowed freely. “And she just lost her son!”
Caid got on the floor beside Keeley. He needed her to keep her voice down and he needed her to stay calm. But he also sensed that telling her that now would only make her louder and more panicked.
He did the only thing he could think of . . . he took her hand in his, holding it loosely.
She gazed at their hands until she asked, “What are you doing?”
“Uhhh . . . comforting you?”
“Something you’re not good at?”
“Not really.”
Keeley turned over her hand, so that Caid’s lay on top, and interlaced their fingers.
“Like this,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“And when you die,” Keeley said on a new flood of tears, “your mother will miss you greatly. Because, even though you seem to never look happy, you are so very kind.”
“You have to stop crying.”
“I can’t. All I can see is death and despair, and it’s all my fault.”
“If anything, Keeley, it’s the fault of your sister.”
“That does not make me feel better. How am I supposed to tell my parents that their love created a monster?”
“Well, after ten thousand children, one had to be bad.”
Despite the tears, Keeley gave a short laugh. “My mother did not have ten thousand children.”
“I’ve sat at dinner with all of them . . . it felt like ten thousand.”
She laughed a little harder. “Stop trying to make me feel better.”
“I should let you wallow?”
“Yes. That’s what I’m asking for. Wallowing rights.”
“We can’t afford to have you wallow, Your Majesty.”
She visibly shuddered and looked away. “Don’t call me that.”
“If all goes well, I won’t be the only one calling you that. You might as well get used to it.”
“I can’t be queen, Caid. Not really.”
“You can and will be.” He gripped her hand a little tighter. “I hate to say this . . . but you really have no choice, Keeley. Without you—”
“Without me, what? My younger sister becomes queen? And before you say it, I know. I know what she did. I was there.” She pressed her free hand against her stomach. “These scars will remain for the rest of my life. So I’ll never be able to forget. But is what she’s done any worse or different than past Old Kings that ruled these lands?”
“Not these lands, Keeley. Never these mountains. The Amichai Mountains have been the lands of the Amichai centaurs, the dwarves, the wood elves, and the barbarian tribes for eons. Only once has any Old King attempted to control these lands and that happened so long ago, I can only say my ‘ancestors’ were there because the use of ‘great-great-great’ would go on for so long you’d get bored and wander away.”
“And what would change any of that now?”
“Your sister.” Caid blew out a long breath and decided to barrel forward with the truth. Keeley had been lied to enough. “We have our own seers. We’ve never just relied on the Witches of Amhuinn with their math and science, because we are one with our gods and nature. Those things combined with our own witches keep us safe.”
“They warned you about Beatrix?”
“No. They told us a queen would be the only thing that stopped the advancement of enemies into our territories and the complete and utter destruction of our mountains. We thought that meant Beatrix . . . we know now that our seers meant you.”
* * *
“But why?” Keeley finally had to ask when she found her voice again; she was so stunned that her tears were no longer flowing. “Wouldn’t Gemma be a better option? She’s a War Monk. She has battle skills. She’s actually been somewhere besides our farm.”
“And she loathes Beatrix with all her heart. That rage and hatred blinds her in a way it does not blind you. It also matters that you weren’t gone for over a decade. You probably know Beatrix better than anyone else. Can guess what her next move will be. Figure out where she’ll strike next.”
“That’s easy enough,” Keeley replied without really thinking. “She’ll want to lock down the security of the royal palace and surrounding lands, and then she’s going to focus on Marius’s brothers . . . and why are you staring at me like that?” she abruptly asked.
“Do I actually have to say? Or can you figure it out on your own?”
She rubbed her forehead. “What if despite all this vast knowledge of Beatrix, I still fail?”
“We all die.”
Eyes wide, Keeley turned her head to look at the Amichai. He gazed back . . . blankly.
“You are such a rude bastard!” she said on a laugh, bumping him with her elbow.
“You were clearly waiting for me to say something like that,” he actually laughed with her, “and I hate disappointing you.”
Exhausted but not in the mood to sleep yet, Keeley rested her head against his shoulder. They sat like that for a long time, neither saying anything. Caid just allowing her time to make up her own mind. But Keeley knew that he was right. She really didn’t have a choice. Whatever happened from here on out would be her sister’s . . . no, not her sister. Beatrix. It would Beatrix’s doing.
“I’ll do it,” she finally said.
“I know. And I will be with you while you do.”
Keeley shook her head and sat up. “No. You and your sister have done enough for—”
“Don’t even bother to argue with me. It’ll be useless. Because we both know that I’ll only do what I want and so will my sister. She’s infamous around here for doing what she wants.”
“Look at that . . . my queenly orders are already being ignored.”
“They are, but for good reason. You’ll need us by your side when you meet with each group. They are not friendly to strangers. Especially human ones.”
“Who will be the hardest to deal with?” she asked, getting to her feet, Caid right beside her.
“The barbarian tribes. Definitely.”
“I thought maybe I’d start with the dwarves first but now I think the barbarians should be first.”
“No,” Caid said with gruff determination. “We will not start with them.”
“I like to get the hardest thing out of the way.”
“And that’s excellent logic when one is creating a great sword. Not when you’re attempting your first alliance. For your first alliance, you should definitely start with the dwarves. But, and I mean this sincerely, Keeley, I’d stay away from discussing your being a blacksmith.”
Keeley gasped. She couldn’t help it! “Why wouldn’t I discuss that? I love discussing that!”
“They’re dwarves. You can’t compete with dwa
rves.”
“I don’t plan to compete with them. But we’re fellow blacksmiths. We should be learning from each other. Discussing the wonders of steel and iron!”
“I can’t express to you how badly that’s going to work with the dwarves. Trust me on this, Keeley. You go to them as a human queen looking for an alliance because your sister is a worse choice. That’s it. That’s the card you play.”
“But if they like me—”
“No. I can’t say that strongly enough. Just no.”
* * *
Caid could tell by Keeley’s expression she wanted to argue, but he also knew that would be a bad idea. The dwarves, like most of the mountain races, were not to be challenged. And the dwarves took their blacksmithing so seriously, they would only see Keeley as another pathetic human who thought she was a decent blacksmith. And it didn’t help how perky she was. Dwarves weren’t naturally perky.
“Trust me,” he practically begged. “Please.”
She took a moment, staring at the ground. Then she looked directly at him and said, “I will do my best to follow your counsel.”
Caid frowned. “Huh?”
“I’m trying to sound like a queen here.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
She hissed at him a little, which he found a bit off-putting, and walked to her bed. She sat down on it and Caid, assuming they were done, headed toward the tent flap.
“Wait,” she called out.
Caid stopped, faced her. “Something else?”
“There’s something I’d like to do before I get some sleep. If you don’t mind.”
“You want me for sex?”
Keeley’s eyes grew wider than Caid had ever seen. “Pardon?”
“Isn’t that what you want? Human women always seem to want to have sex with centaurs.”
“Actually . . . I was . . . um . . . hoping to meet your father? Not to have sex with him, though,” she quickly added. “Or you. No offense.”
“No. I’m sorry.” Caid moved a little closer. “The few humans I’ve met who know what we are usually want to have sex with us.”
“Even the men?” she asked, appearing confused. “They want to have sex with female centaurs?” Caid was about to get insulted for the females of his race when Keeley added, “I mean . . . don’t they feel insecure? There’s no way they could possibly live up to what I’ve seen trotting around your camps.”