by Aiken G. A.
“She will be queen of her gravesite,” Marius shot back. “That pretender will never wear the crown; she will never sit on the throne.”
“Rumor has it that she has already gotten the backing of the Amichai tribes. What if they come from the mountains to be her army?”
Marius gazed drunkenly at Duke Gennadius and managed only to repeat, “But I am king.”
Panic and insubordination. Beatrix watched it spread among the royals in the hall like a fast-moving plague.
The Dowager Queen was quickly on her feet, attempting to soothe with words. But Beatrix knew better. She’d been preparing for all this since she’d read her first scroll on the early Old Kings. She’d only been three at the time and her mother had thought she was merely playing with the parchment, so she kept taking it from Beatrix’s grasp. It had been Keeley who’d realized that Beatrix could read and returned the scroll to her. Then brought her more. Then brought her books.
She’d always be grateful to Keeley for that.
Slowly, Beatrix pushed her chair back and stood.
“My lords,” she began, happily cutting off the Dowager Queen’s useless speech. “Duke Gennadius. I understand your concerns and I’ve already put plans into place to address any trouble that may come from the Amichai.”
The Dowager Queen’s gaze quickly snapped to her but it was Marius who asked, “You have?”
Beatrix moved away from the table and across the floor so that she stood before the table where the duke and his wife sat.
“My lords and ladies, I need all of you to understand that my main concern as your queen is the safety of these lands and of your persons. I, and of course your king, are already ensuring the protection of this great kingdom by increasing our armies. But I wasn’t sure that was enough. Your safety and the safety of your families are all that matter to both the king and me.”
Beatrix held out her arms and Agathon quickly walked over to her. His head down, hair covering his face and his delightful shame. He handed her the child. A toddler. Duke Gennadius’s youngest.
The duke started to stand, but one of the lords beside him caught his arm. The duke’s wife covered her mouth, eyes wide over her hands.
“This is our true concern,” Beatrix announced, holding the babe close. “This innocent, defenseless child is all we care about. Protecting our children from outsiders. From those who don’t care about them at all.”
Beatrix walked in front of all the tables so that each royal could see the duke’s child in her arms and understand the full meaning of her act.
“And to ensure the safety of your children, I had all of them brought here to the castle while you’ve been attending the coronation.” She smiled; not because she had to but because she wanted to when she saw all the panicked looks and heard the terrified gasps. “I just wanted to make sure each child was truly safe, and I knew they’d be perfectly safe here. With us. Your king and queen. And while our war is going on,” she told the lords and ladies who would provide the resources, gold, and soldiers she and Marius would need, “your children will be safe inside these castle walls with us and our many soldiers. All of them willing to do anything, absolutely anything to protect these perfect, precious children. They’ll have everything they need. Food. Education. And, of course . . . love.”
She returned to the middle of the hall, between the tables, the child still in her arms.
“So please, everyone, enjoy this wondrous night. Eat, drink, dance! And know that your king and queen are here for you . . . and your entire family. Musicians!” she called out. “Play!”
The music began and Beatrix walked out of the hall . . . still holding the duke’s child.
Once she was out of the view of everyone in the hall, she returned the child to Agathon. “Put it back with the others,” she said, brushing her hands against her dress. That child’s hands had been sticky. Why had they been so sticky?
“If you need me, I’ll be in my privy chamber getting some work done.”
“Yes, my queen.”
“And Agathon?”
He stopped; faced her.
“Keep an eye on Gennadius. I don’t trust him.”
“But . . .” He glanced down at the child he held. “Do you think he’d really risk—”
“Maybe he’s not as attached to the girl since he has a first-born son. It’s best not to risk it.”
Agathon nodded and rushed off, clutching the child to his breast.
Beatrix cringed a bit. He seemed strangely attached to the child. She might have to get Agathon a wife soon so he could have his own family one day. It was best to give good people the simple things so that they could stay mostly satisfied. She’d hate to have to replace Agathon anytime soon.
That idiot Gennadius, however . . . if he kept asking questions about Keeley and whatever she was doing in the Amichai Mountains, Beatrix would find out exactly how attached to his children he truly was.
“What have you done?” Marius demanded from behind her.
Beatrix faced him calmly. “I’m protecting us.”
“By holding royal children hostage?”
“Who said they were hostages? They are merely your guests, my king. That’s all. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
He grabbed her arm and Beatrix slowly looked down at his hand, then—just as slowly—moved her gaze to his face.
She didn’t do anything. Beatrix merely waited. And despite his drunkenness, Marius released her rather than push his luck.
Now free to walk away, Beatrix didn’t, but said instead, “Everything I do, my lord, I do for the good of this mighty kingdom and for you. Our undoubted king. So please, don’t worry. You focus on getting your men ready for battle and I’ll focus on the boring day-to-day details. Let me take some of that pressure off your back.”
With one more smile, Beatrix walked to her privy chamber and the many hours of work ahead.
CHAPTER 24
Because the Amichai dwarves lived inside the mountain range, traveling to the Amichai wood elves’ territories didn’t take long; their home was just a few leagues away in the forests outside the mountains.
But in the end, it didn’t matter how long the trip took. Because, much to Laila’s surprise, the king absolutely refused to meet with them.
She didn’t understand why. The king usually met with centaurs as long as it wasn’t Laila’s mother. And that was only because Gaira was still friends with the king’s former wife. She’d left the king and their children to be with her lover, a dark elven lord. A decision that had made her a hated enemy of the wood elves and their tribal king.
Gaira, however, refused to let anyone—king or peasant—tell her who she could or could not be friends with. Not when she’d known the former elf queen for years before the royal marriage.
So, when the centaurs needed to communicate with the elves, they just didn’t involve Gaira. But for some reason the king was making some sort of stand here. Laila simply didn’t know why.
While Laila argued with the king’s long-eared emissary, Lord Elouan, Keeley and Gemma stood nearby. Keeley examined everything she could see. Ever since they’d entered the elven forest, she’d looked at all around her in wonder and fascination; the very sight of the elven city built directly above them making Keeley smile. Then Laila had told Keeley that the elves had built their kingly city from the ancient trees of the forest. That nothing had been cut or torn down, but merely enhanced with old magicks and elven care. The joy that brought to the human had amazed Laila.
Perhaps her friend’s enjoyment amazed her because Gemma’s reaction was nearly the exact opposite. She seemed unimpressed with everything in the elven city and suspicious of everyone. And the more Elouan spoke, the more suspicious Gemma seemed to become. True, she hadn’t said a word, but there were some beings in the world who got their point across with silence. Gemma was definitely one of those beings.
“I simply don’t understand,” Laila continued to argue with Lord Elouan. “Why does he object
to seeing us? Could you at least make that clear?”
Elouan tossed his silky white hair over his shoulder before snidely replying, “I don’t have to make anything clear to you. My king has made his decision and he doesn’t have to explain to you or anyone else.”
“So he didn’t tell you either?”
The elf’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit. “Watch your tone with me, centaur.”
Keeley tugged on Laila’s arm. “Let’s just go.”
But Laila wasn’t done. She pointed a finger at Elouan. “Do not forget to whom you speak, elf. I am my mother’s heir and—”
“And nothing. You are not your mother, and therefore do not have any of her power here in our lands. As for being her heir . . .” He shrugged. “Life changes.”
That’s when Gemma cracked her knuckles. Again, she didn’t say anything, but the elven royal guards abruptly appeared, standing behind Elouan, their weapons gripped tight.
The emissary glared at Gemma but spoke to Laila. “Is that why you brought this one here? To threaten us?”
Gemma blinked in surprise. “I’m just standing here.”
“Like hells you are, human. You’re a War Monk, everyone knows what that means.”
A small smile curled the corners of Gemma’s mouth. “If you truly knew what that meant . . . you’d be much nicer to my friend.”
“Or we can just go!” Keeley suddenly announced, motioning with her head. “Really. Let’s just go.”
“Fine,” Laila snapped. “But this, Lord Elouan, will not be forgotten.”
They turned to depart, Keeley leading the way back out, but Gemma suddenly tossed over her shoulder, “Give Beatrix our best.”
“Oh . . . I will.”
Laila and the sisters stopped, Laila spinning around to gawk at the elf. And she saw the truth on his face.
Slamming down her front hoof, she barked, “You motherfucker!”
Keeley pressed her hand against Laila’s hip. “It’s all right,” she soothed.
“It is not all right.”
“It is, Laila. It is. A mistake,” Keeley added, glancing at Elouan, “but their right to make it.”
“You’re threatening me too?” he questioned, smirking. “Like your War Monk sister?”
“My sister didn’t threaten you, and neither have I. But an alliance with Beatrix is, in my opinion, a questionable choice on your part. But at the end of the day, also none of our concern. So good luck to you.”
Without waiting a moment more, Keeley headed back the way they’d come with her sister beside her; and, after a withering glare in Lord Elouan’s direction, Laila followed.
When they reached the rest of their travel party outside the forest, Laila was absolutely livid.
“How dare the king and Elouan take sides with Beatrix without speaking to my mother first!” she angrily announced before either of her brothers could ask her how everything had gone.
“Isn’t that what you did with me?” Keeley asked.
“What?”
“You sided with me without speaking to the elves first.”
“We don’t have to talk to them! We’re centaurs!”
“Isn’t that what they think about themselves?”
Now, even angrier, Laila slammed her front hoof again and demanded, “Why are you being so bloody calm about all this?”
“I guess I just don’t see the point of getting upset. Besides, we can still get the dwarf army if we find Sichar’s gold.”
Laila dropped her arms to her sides. “And how do you suggest we do that? If the elves do have it, I doubt they’ll give it to us now.”
Keeley didn’t have a chance to respond because the gray mare was bumping her in the back with her muzzle.
“Did they find it?” she asked the horse, which was when Laila and Gemma glanced at each other. Gods, had Keeley finally lost all reason? Was that why she was so calm? Because of insanity? Not all insane people began tearing their clothes and crying to the heavens. Some became very calm . . . just before they started destroying everything.
The horse didn’t seem to respond to Keeley in any way that Laila could see, but Keeley then asked her, “Do you know where they are? Good. Take me to them.”
Keeley mounted the gray mare and rode off, forcing the rest to rush after her.
They followed Keeley for miles until she reached a cave opening in a mountainside. The demon wolves stood outside that opening, obviously waiting for her.
She dismounted from her horse and crouched in front of the lead wolf, her hand stroking his neck and shoulders.
“Did you find it?” she asked.
The wolf nodded its head, his eyes leaving a brief—and disturbing—trail of flame as he did so.
“Thank the gods. Show me.”
“What the hells is going on?” Laila demanded before Keeley could run off.
“Are you talking to those things now?” Gemma wanted to know.
“I’ve always talked to them. They’re my friends. Now come on.”
“We’re not going anywhere with you until you tell us what’s going on.”
“Sichar’s gold.”
“What about it?” Keran asked, surprising them all because she was actually paying attention for once.
“The wolves found it for me. That’s what they were doing while we were talking to the elf lord.”
“In other words,” Gemma reasoned, “you sent them on a mission?”
“Yes!” Keeley cheered.
“And that doesn’t bother you at all? That they understood exactly what you wanted?”
“Why should it?”
“Gods, Keeley!”
Keeley quickly held up her hand. “I’m not having this conversation with you yet again. We don’t have time for it. How long before the elves figure out we’ve found this place?”
“I’m guessing not long,” Keran put in before yawning; she was already looking for a place to sit down and get more sleep. The woman slept a lot.
“We are not following demons into a dark cave that could have all sorts of traps and spells ready to eviscerate us!”
Laila had to admit . . . Gemma had a point. The wood elves had strong magicks. It was doubtful they would just bury something as precious as Sichar’s gold in the middle of a cave and then leave it without any protection.
“Look, just stay here,” Keeley told her sister. “I’ll be right out.”
“Then I’m going with you,” Caid piped up but Laila immediately grabbed his arm.
“You,” she said, looking at him long and hard, “are not going anywhere near the inside of that cave.”
“I’m not letting her go in there alone, Laila.”
“And I’m not going back to our mother and telling her that you were killed inside a cave because of demon wolves.”
“Laila—”
“Stop,” Gemma ordered. “I’ll go with her. You lot stay here and make sure to keep the elves off our backs if they show up. Understand, Keran?”
Keran, who’d already sat down with her back against a boulder, and her eyes about to close, pointed at herself. “What are you coming after me for?”
“Because you can’t really keep watch when you’re asleep!”
“I’m tired!”
Quinn shook his head and laughed. “Just go. We’ll watch your back.”
Laila couldn’t help but cringe a little. “You sure about this?”
“No.” Gemma glanced after her sister, who’d already disappeared into the darkness. “But it’s not like I have much choice.”
* * *
Keeley already had two torches lit by the time Gemma found her sister. She took the one offered and together they followed the wolves, heading deep into the cave.
They traveled down dark tunnels and through dark caverns; carefully inching through tight crevices until the wolves led them to a very large but seemingly empty chamber.
Keeley, trusting as always, started to go right inside, but Gemma grabbed her arm and yanked her
back.
“What are you doing?” Keeley snapped.
“Give me a minute, would you?”
Gemma let out a breath, closed her eyes. She tried to push all worries and distractions from her mind so that she could focus on one thing: whether there were any magickal traps protecting this space. She searched desperately, assuming the elves must have left something. If this was, in fact, where they’d buried their gold. Yet the more she searched . . .
“There are magicks here, but I can’t find anything inherently dangerous.”
“Like what?”
“Traps, you idiot. I have a hard time believing the elves have no protection on the gold.”
“Except you can’t find anything, yes?”
“Not anything that’s obviously—”
“Great!”
“Keeley!”
But she’d already entered the chamber, using her torch to light a few others that had been affixed to the walls.
Examining the sconces, Gemma could tell they’d been left by elves.
Once those few torches were lit, Keeley began searching the cave while the wolves watched her.
“This is crazy, Keeley.”
“This is our only chance to get King Mundric’s army. Unless you have money somewhere that I am unaware of so we can buy our own army.”
“What are we going to do here? Just start digging? That could take a century.”
“Stop being so negative. Why are you always so negative?”
Gemma cracked her neck. “Maybe because our baby sister already has an alliance with the elves. That’s a reason to be negative.”
Keeley stopped in the middle of the cavern. She stood still in the light when she looked back at Gemma. “How did you know? About Elouan and all that?”
“Because that elf was being such an asshole to us. I had a feeling he’d only act that way if he thought he had some kind of protection. Beatrix protection.” Gemma shook her head. “I have to admit . . . I really underestimated her. She’s good.”
“I didn’t underestimate her.” Keeley blankly stared off into the dark part of the chamber. “But I tried so hard, Gemma. I tried so hard to . . . I don’t know . . . fix her?”
“I know you did. But sometimes there’s no fixing—”