Birthright

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Birthright Page 10

by L. Fergus


  Kita smiled. “Jealous? A little. I definitely envied him.” In a mocking voice, she addressed him like a baby. “And don’t you worry about Jeffrey’s little career. I talked to Merce, and everything’s going to be fine.” Kita’s face twisted into an evil snarl. “Now I hope we’ve come to some understanding of our relationship. I don’t like you, and you don’t like me. I’m fine with that. You leave me alone, and all will be well. Understood?”

  The duke tried to nod without poking his eye out.

  “Excellent. Also, quit drinking. I do love you, and I’d hate to see you in an early grave, Father.” She cocked her head to one side and smiled pleasantly at him.

  The door banged open, Zidin spun around, sword drawn. Angus stood in the doorway arms folded across his chest, his brow lowered in a frown. “Kita, unhand him, NOW.”

  Kita released her grasp on her father and let him fall to the ground. Zidin lowered his sword. She sheathed Dusk and stepped back. The duke lay sprawled, gasping for air. Angus helped him to his chair.

  “Thank you, Angus, for saving me. I’m glad you’ve more sense than your new recruit.”

  Angus looked down at him. “You’re welcome, my lord. Though I had no intention of coming here to rescue you, but to rescue Kita.”

  The duke coughed. “The girl is a menace. I should have her hung.”

  Kita rolled her eyes. Angus shook his head at her.

  “I wouldn’t recommend doing so my lord,” said Angus. “Attacking a legionnaire is a serious offense. If you wish to charge her with a crime, you need to present it to me, and I’ll investigate.”

  “Well then, I charge her with attacking a noble with lethal intent and wish her turned over to me for punishment.”

  “Fine, I’ll investigate.” He called a guard into the room to stand between Kita and her father. He took each party into the hallway and interviewed them.

  “Two of the three stories match, one does not,” said Angus when he finished.

  “Of course they do, those two are bedmates,” the duke said, his voice still ragged.

  Kita stifled a laugh.

  Angus gave the duke a dirty look. “There is one more witness to the incident.”

  “Who?” the duke yelled.

  “Me,” said Angus.

  “How the blazes did you get in here?”

  “I didn’t have to enter the room. I listened through the door. My observations match those of Kita and Zidin. Your charge is dismissed.”

  The duke spat at Angus is disgust.

  “Kita will, however, be disciplined for use of excessive force.”

  Kita’s relief evaporated.

  “Fine, get out,” the duke snarled in disgust. “You lovers all stick together. You can go discipline her together. Just don’t make a mess in one of my rooms with your damn orgy.”

  Angus leaned to the duke’s ear, speaking in a low voice.

  The duke went white. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Angus nodded and smile. “Come, Kita, Zidin—it’s late, and we must get some rest before tomorrow.”

  He led the pair out. At the door, Kita turned around and went back and whispered to the duke, “Don’t worry, Father. I’ve secured your estate with Merce and Robert and Jeffrey’s career. The reason I’ve turned away all your suitors is, I’m still waiting for my princess. I’ve already had the Princess of Champignon. No man will ever touch me again.”

  The duke went red with rage.

  “I knew it! You little bitch loving whore,” the duke shouted after her. “I don’t need you to do my politicking for me or for Jeffrey.”

  As Kita closed the door, she stuck her head back in and blew him a kiss. The duke threw his goblet at her.

  “What did you tell him?” Angus asked.

  “That he shouldn’t worry. I’ve talked with Merce and Robert about his worries of losing the estate. I also told him I have secured Jeffrey’s career. And why he’d never have any grandchildren from me. Nothing wrong, I hope?”

  “Nothing wrong with that.”

  “So, what about my punishment?”

  “Punishment for what?”

  “You said you were going to punish me for excessive force.” Kita didn’t like the way he was toying with her. If he was going to do something, she wanted it over with sooner rather than later.

  “Dealing with your father was your punishment. As an assassin, you should know not to leave a trace. When you rough someone up, don’t leave a mark. Understand?”

  Kita nodded. She knew better. Curiosity struck her. “What did you tell him?”

  Angus rolled his jaw. “I told him if he didn’t stop trying to rule your life, I’d station a very large garrison of legionnaires here and you would be their commander.”

  Kita grinned. “How did you find us?”

  “Intuition,” Angus responded lightly.

  Probably my mother’s spies at work.

  They arrived at the family sleeping quarters and said goodbye for the second time. Kita and Zidin followed a hallway to a large sitting area. Doors led to adjoining bedrooms. Exhausted, Kita pushed open the door to her room.

  “Are you going back to your room?” Kita asked Zidin.

  “My duty’s to protect you. I go where you go.”

  Too tired to think straight, she stripped off her armor and flopped down on the bed. She squeaked in surprise when she landed. She’d forgotten she hadn’t been wearing anything under her breastplate. Oh, the blazes with it. Kita sat up, causing Zidin spin turnaround.

  “Sorry, I forgot. I’ve never had anyone in my room before. You don’t have to turn around. I lost my modesty earlier. I don’t have another bed…Here you take mine, and I’ll go sleep on the daybed.”

  Zidin shook his head. “It’s your last night here. You sleep in your bed. I won’t fit anyway. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  “It’s a stone floor.”

  “I’ve slept on worse.”

  I’m not going to win this. Fine, we’ll play his way. She went to the closet. “I’ve some blankets in here.” Kita took out the thickest blankets she could find.

  “No need for those.” Zidin’s sword and kit were leaning against the wall. He shook out his kilt, naked.

  Kita spun around. Yuck! No one wants to see that. Kita averted her eyes and placed the blankets on the chair.

  “If the floor gets…ah…uncomfortable they’re here.” She finished stripping herself down and looked into her mirror. She traced the scars across her stomach and her side. Lots of girls think war wounds are sexy on guys, so maybe they can work for me?

  She turned her attention to her face and traced the roses with her finger. She expected to feel something under her skin, but she felt nothing. Normally, she had blemishes and imperfections, at least in her mind. Now, all she felt was smooth perfection. At least some good came of this.

  Scratching from the door caught her attention. She walked over and let Sarge in. “And where have you been all day?” He gave her a happy growl and nuzzled her hand while Kita petted him. Happy, Sarge went over and curled up next to Zidin. Kita giggled.

  Kita flopped down into bed and wormed her way under the blankets.

  A bright yellow light reflecting off the mirror woke Kita. Are the local nobles continuing the party with a bonfire? It must be enormous. She pushed Sarge to one side, kicked off her blankets, and made her way to the window, careful to step around Zidin.

  Kita yelped in surprise. Fires raged among the buildings along the outer castle walls, the flames curling high into the air transfixing her. Eerie dancing shadows leaped from building to building, like thieves in the night.

  Zidin jumped to his feet when Kita cried out. His sudden movement broke Kita’s spell.

  “Zidin, look!” She waved him over. “The castle, it’s burning!”

  Zidin grunted. “That’s the least of our worries. There’s fighting going on.”

  The sound of metal on metal and men’s screams reached Kita’s ears. “Who is it?”

  �
��No idea. The only force large enough in this area would be Duke Cunningham’s.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll have to ask him.” He said with a sly grin that looked demonic in the firelight.

  Kita realized he was naked, and she was still in her thong from the night before. I’m glad no one can see through the window. The rumors would be atrocious. Kita shook the thought from her mind. She had other things to worry about. Getting another chance at Cunningham brought a smile to her face. “Let’s go find that snake.”

  Her armor lay strewn across the room, and it took her a minute to find all the pieces. She went to her underwear drawer and found it empty. What in the blazes? She slammed through her drawers, looking, but all were empty. If this is payback by Jeffrey, I’m going to skin him.

  Zidin made a shushing sound. Kita grumped and put on her armor over the day-old offending underwear. She removed a decorative cloth piece that covered her upper chest and kept tickling her. A choker held the piece of cloth in place around her neck. Removing the fabric from her armor, she strapped the choker around her neck. It was frivolous, but she didn’t like her neck naked. Maybe I can get some spikes put on it. Kita finished by sheathing her weapons.

  Zidin finished folding his kilt.

  “What do you do if you don’t have time to do that?” she said.

  “Fight naked,” he said flatly.

  “Of course,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

  Zidin lay down and wrapped the kilt around himself. He pinned everything in place and strapped on his belts, pouch, and kit. “Let’s go.”

  When Zidin went to unlock the door, Kita stopped him and looked through the keyhole. Across the common area, three soldiers in white tabards came toward her door from her brother’s room.

  “Cunningham’s men,” Kita said to Zidin.

  She unlocked the door but motioned for Zidin to hold it closed. He let the door give each time the soldiers pushed and kicked it, then slammed it shut. Kita judged their mounting frustration. After one extremely long expletive, she motioned Zidin away from the door. When they tried again, two soldiers tumbled into a heap at Zidin and Sarge’s feet. Damn, where did the other one go?

  Kita bounced over the flailing heap and darted around the corner looking for the third. She found the missing soldier by colliding with him outside the doorway. She struggled to untangle herself and subdue him at the same time. Of all the rotten luck.

  The soldier recovered first and rolled on top of her. He’d lost both his helmet and sword in the collision and resorted to strangulation. Kita twisted and struggled. Her vision darkening as she struggled for air.

  From the darkness, Petersen’s voice taunted her, “You deserve a round of applause for the shortest Legion command ever.”

  Just what I need, a death heckler—No, wait! Kita forced her eyes open, summoned the last of her strength, and slammed her palms over the soldier’s ears as her vision went black. The soldier fell off her.

  Gasping for air, Kita waited for her vision to return. Her hands shook while her heart raced. This wasn’t her first brush with death, but it never seemed to get easier.

  Sarge rushed by her snarling. The soldier shrieked. Kita turned, trying to find Sarge. The shrieking stopped in a gurgle, and she located Sarge after receiving a scratchy cat kiss.

  “Kita, are you alright?” Zidin yelled.

  “I’m going to be fine,” Kita wheezed.

  “What happened?” said Zidin from beside her.

  Her breathing was ragged and labored. “He tried to strangle me.”

  “Sounds like he almost succeeded.”

  “I can’t see either,” her voice overtaken by a coughing fit.

  Zidin grunted. “We can’t wait, we need to move. Where should we go?”

  Should she find Angus or her parents? Flee? Go defend the front gate? Fleeing was out. Angus was in the guest quarters, but would have been woken by the fighting and could be anywhere by now. The gates had to be defended. Her parents should be the closest, and they needed to know what was going on if they didn’t already.

  “Find my parents first, then we go defend the front gate.”

  Zidin grunted approval. He picked her up, and slung her over his shoulder.

  “Put me down,” Kita squawked.

  “We don’t have time to let you stumble around in the dark.”

  Kita grumbled. She hated that he was right. “Fine, but I want to ride on your back.”

  “Sorry, sword’s in the way.”

  “When this is over, I’m so getting you back for this.” At least no one is around to see this.

  Kita directed Zidin to the duke and duchess’ rooms. Kita heard voices shouting.

  Zidin put Kita against a decorative suit of armor. “Wait here.”

  “Where are you going? You can’t leave me here!”

  “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  Kita looked around trying to find the fingers until she gave up. “Point taken.”

  “Good. Sarge, guard.”

  Sarge gave a soft affirming huff, and Kita listened to Zidin walk away. This is so not fair. My first real battle and I’m crippled. I didn’t even kill my opponent, my cat did! Some commander I’m going to be. Maybe I should have let him kill me. Instead, I’m going to die a slow death from embarrassment.

  Sarge huffed, alerting Kita to Zidin’s return. Another set of footsteps accompanied his. Is it Mother, Father, or someone else?

  “Kita, what happened?” the duchess asked, sounding worried.

  “I can’t see. One of Cunningham’s goons tried to pop my head off like a cork,” Kita said grumpily.

  The duchess examined her neck and her eyes. “Your eyes are clear. You should recover shortly. You’re going to have a nice set of bruises around your neck. I like the choker, it’s a nice touch.”

  Kita smiled where she thought her mother was. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  “No more than you do. Cunningham is attacking the castle, the rat. He must have been planning this for months, but I don’t see how he plans to get away with it. The earl won’t stand for it.”

  “Where’s Father?”

  “I don’t know. He never came to bed. I know he went to talk to you last night. Hopefully, Cunningham hasn’t captured him. We need to find him and get out of here. It’ll be much easier to confront Cunningham if your father is alive.”

  “Last I saw him he was in the library.”

  “Then he’s probably still there, so that’s where we need to go. We’ll put you in a safe place until your eyes recover.”

  “I—”

  “There’s a cleaning closet down the hall.”

  “Do I look like a mop?” said Kita, half in anger and half in surprise.

  “Right now, a mop would be more useful. Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

  Kita squeaked in surprise when Zidin picked her up and protested all the way to the closet.

  The door closed and locked. “Don’t worry, dear. We’ll be back shortly, once we’ve located your father and seen to the defenses.”

  Kita screamed in reply.

  “Temper, my dear. Commanders need to keep a level head to be effective.”

  Kita screamed again as her mother instructed Sarge to guard.

  Kita banged on the door in frustration but gave up after making her hand sore. At least my voice has recovered. She shuffled around, trying to get a feel for her prison. The closet was surprisingly bare. Frustrated, she sat down hard. OUCH! Underneath her wasn’t stone, but metal. The drain. Prison bars in the floor…no, wait. The grates are removable!

  Between the ages of eight and twelve, Kita turned the castle’s sewers into her own private version of the tubes, underground tunnels crisscrossing The Mass. She searched for treasures and slew the ravagers who dwelt there. After every adventure, she was dragged away to be scrubbed by a gang of servants. The sewers were dark when I was a kid. It shouldn’t be too hard to navigate blind.

  Th
e cover weighed more than she thought, but with some grunting and swearing, she moved it out of the way. The hole was a tight squeeze, but she wiggled her lithe frame through.

  The familiar witch’s brew of smells from the sewer hit her nose like a fist. Something isn’t right. The stench of decomposition and rotten eggs mixed with stale water and humid air with generous helping of slime mold had a new, repugnant ingredient. Kita couldn’t identify the horridly sweet, musky smell. Maybe it’s something from the kitchen. The water comes from that direction.

  Kita ran her foot along the ground, searching for the edge of the sewage channel that ran down the center of the tunnel. Due to a partial blockage of the main sewer channel, water and waste backed up into the channels. The last thing she wanted was to fall in. She found the wall, cool and slick under her fingers—even through the crud, she could feel the individual bricks. Placing her feet carefully on the ground so not to step off the edge, she moved in the direction she thought would take her to the library.

  The wall stopped. She’d reached an intersection. Finally—now let’s hope no one’s flushed the sewers. When she explored years ago, she’d left pieces of trash to help mark the way. She found a bucket—it had rusted since her last visit, but she remembered it. Now she knew her location, and could review the sewer map in her mind. The nearest opening to the library was in the shower room. It wasn’t far, but it would require crossing the main sewage channel, a childhood challenge that still caused her anxiety.

  Kita moved slowly, keeping one hand on the wall. She made a couple of turns and came to the four-way intersection she sought. The tunnel she’d emerged from fed into a large main sewage channel. Down the opposite sewer was the shower room. The main sewage channel was shallower than the side sewers but twice as wide.

  As a child, jumping the main sewage channel was the ultimate feat. Her success rate was abysmal. But as a taller and stronger adult, it should be easier, right? Kita searched for the edge of the path with her foot. She located it, took a step back, and jumped.

  The jump was far enough, but her foot landed in something slippery. Her arms pinwheeled. I got it, I got it. Kita fell backward into the foul-smelling liquid. Swearing and thrashing, she stood up in the knee-deep water. At least this water comes from the showers and not the latrines.

 

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