by AJ Nuest
The moment Braedric had led his hashishans through the portcullis, word of Caedmon’s ascension to the throne had sparked like wildfire through the castle. As she and her new king had traversed the halls to the armory, most of their kinsfolk had fallen to their knees, expressing their gratitude and swearing allegiance to their sovereign king. Yet, not once had Caedmon met their vows of loyalty with anything but grace and humility, which only endeared them more to his rule.
With his experience living in Braedric’s shadow, his hard-won efforts to prove himself a worthy friend and adversary, the struggles he’d endured to forge his own way, Caedmon had first-hand knowledge of what it meant to be judged as less than merely because of the color of his skin or the blood in his veins.
No one could deny this made him the ideal choice as king.
Eibel turned toward Denmar and they commenced discussing the incoming reports on when the rest of the guard was expected to return, but the words fell deaf on Rowena’s ears. She ran her palm down Caedmon’s forearm and squeezed his fingers. He smiled and lifted the back of her hand to his lips before joining Denmar and Eibel’s conversation.
And neither could anyone deny the terrible dangers they were about to face.
If Violet’s historical accounts were accurate, Caedmon would return to the throne victorious…and Rowena would not return at all.
She locked her knees against the breath-stealing shiver of someone skipping over her grave. This is what came of messing with things best left unknown, hopping back and forth through a magic portal as if such things were normal.
No matter whatever else happened, she would not let the scribblings of some misinformed chronicler sway her decision. There was no way any of them could know for certain how closely reality would mirror the history books. For God’s sake, hadn’t their final moments with the king proven how easily the facts could get twisted?
Only one person in this room held the power to wield the key, and she wasn’t about to let everyone she loved risk their lives without using the opportunity to end this war once and for all.
Now, if she could just sneak away for a moment to discuss her idea with Fandorn. If Seviere wanted her dead, then perhaps that was exactly what she should give him.
“Our scouts report that Seviere’s forces have advanced thus far.” Denmar used both hands to slide a wall of red painted figurines across the map, positioning them just north of the forest bordering the southern-most edge of Seviere’s kingdom. “Braedric’s legions rode north, so instinct dictates the two armies will converge here, utilizing the cover of trees to mask their numbers while they design their plan of attack.” Using the length of his forearm, he swept a line of black figurines near the southern rim of that same forest, until the little soldiers met and decorated the dividing line between the two kingdoms.
“Hold on a second.” Rowena studied the map as she rounded the table. The evening following her midnight escape from Castle Austiere, she’d made camp in those same trees, only to be discovered by Caedmon a few hours later. She placed her finger on the shadowed blob slightly north and to the west of the figurines. “I take it this is the Black Forest. Would Seviere be so bold as to camp his entire army within such a short distance of the Dreggs’ home?”
Caedmon scowled and pinched his bottom lip. “Mayhap he believes there is nothing to fear, given Braedric’s alliance with the rogue Dreggs.”
“Maybe.” Rowena scratched her head, frowning at the map. Something wasn’t adding up. “But why risk it? Besides, Seviere must know by now we share the same type of alliance with Reddeck. Our Dreggs were the ones that rescued us from Gaelloed’s domed chamber.”
Eibel cleared his throat. “Our Dreggs?”
Rowena tapped the border between the two nations, her mind whirring with possibilities. Braedric was a crafty bastard, as was Seviere. From the moment she’d met him, Caedmon’s older brother had done nothing but rant and rave about his birthright, how the title of Rescinder and the Austiere crown rightfully belonged to him. Yet he’d gathered his troops and departed the castle without so much as a backward glance. Odd behavior for a man who believed the world was his oyster. If anything, he should have squatted, stayed within the castle walls and awaited Seviere’s army. Then his plan to overthrow the throne would’ve been as simple as tossing her and Caedmon out on their keisters. Or having them executed.
She continued around the table, tracing the line of the forest southeast, skimming its wide arc along the outskirts of Austiere land, until her fingertip met the shoreline. A short distance down the coast and her finger arrived at the spot where the royal court had assembled to await Caedmon that first day he’d returned home from his imprisonment. The land continued on in a steadily southward descent until it met the western shore at the peninsula and port city of Albion, but her finger remained glued to its spot by the cliffs. “Eibel, did any of the scouts actually follow Braedric into the forest?”
“No, my lady. They feared discovery should Braedric’s hashishans have doubled back. In the fading light, those buggers blend well with the trees.”
Right, right, the hashishans. Before she and Caedmon had snuck into the castle to meet with King Austiere, several groups had ridden from the gates, dispatched at regular intervals. What if their constant comings and goings were actually Braedric and King Seviere passing notes like two kids in school? The three days she and Caedmon had been gone allowed them plenty of time to devise a Plan B. It was highly likely they didn’t have to congregate in the forest for their little tea party. They already had a contingency plan in place.
“Do me a favor.” She tapped the coastline. “Send a scout to the eastern shore, but tell him to tread lightly. I’d place bets Braedric is lying in wait here.”
The rut that had formed between Caedmon’s brows deepened. “What are you thinking, my love? It seems unlikely Braedric would risk a battle on such treacherous ground.”
“He’s not. It’s the old bait and switch.” Rowena scooped up the blue knights used to represent the Austiere guard, placed them on open ground and swept them north toward the black and red pieces lining the forest. “We gather every able-bodied man in the kingdom and march north, thinking we’re about to engage Braedric and Seviere in battle near the forest.” She slid Braedric’s black pieces along the semi-circle of the trees down to the coast. “Except when we get there, the only army waiting is Seviere’s. The minute we’re gone the castle is left undefended.” She moved Braedric’s black pieces up the cliffs and toward the castle, left a few there and brought the rest up from the rear, trapping the blue soldiers between the black and red. “With us gone, Braedric could easily retake the castle and surround us from behind before the fight even begins.”
Caedmon snapped his focus to Eibel. “Well, why do you dally? Your queen just issued a command.”
The guard jerked into action and strode straight for the door. Rowena smiled as a glow of appreciation warmed her from the inside out. Caedmon’s show of support meant the world to her.
“If we change course and ride for Braedric’s legions, that would certainly give us the upper hand.” Denmar pushed Braedric’s black soldiers back to the shore and advanced the blue to the edge of the cliffs. “Our army would be on higher ground.”
“And Braedric’s men would be sitting ducks.” Rowena ran a fingertip along the water. “Trapped by the sea.”
“Yet Seviere’s legions would still advance.” Caedmon brought the red pieces forward from the forest. “Attacking our forces from the rear. With their numbers they could force us down the cliffs as well. We would flounder and join Braedric’s men in a watery death.”
“Not necessarily.” Rowena wagged a finger. “Seviere expects us to ride north tomorrow morning so we can meet him in battle. He assumes Braedric’s hashishans will invade the castle and chase us straight into his waiting arms.” She shoved Seviere’s red pieces back into the forest. “No telling how long that will take, so he may wait. And personally, I think it would be the h
eight of rudeness to spoil his well-thought-out plan.
“If I’m right and Braedric is at the cliffs, we should use the element of surprise in our favor. What if we gather what archers we have at our disposal and sneak in right before sunrise? If we use a coordinated strike, we could thin out Braedric’s numbers and weaken their defenses without raising the alarm.” Using the side of her hand, Rowena swept half the black pieces off the table and set them aside. “And even if the alarm is raised, by then it’ll be too late. In order for Braedric to hold up his end of the bargain he made with Seviere, come the full light of morning, he’ll still need to advance toward the castle regardless of how many men he has left. When he shows up at the door, we can take out the rest and then ride north to engage Seviere. The king would be none the wiser that Braedric’s troops aren’t actually behind us.”
“Hmmm…” Denmar smoothed his palm along his scruffy jaw. “It’s a dangerous risk treading so near the cliffs in the dim light. We may lose several men to the terrain…not to mention the retreat and ensuing skirmish with Braedric’s hashishans at the castle.”
“But by then more of the guard will have arrived.” Rowena added a few additional blue knights to the table.
“Aye, and we’ll need them if we withstand one chance at defeating Seviere.” Denmar slid the blue knights toward open ground and Seviere’s army. “It’s unfortunate we do not have additional forces to guard the castle. We could send a small garrison to attack at the cliffs, they could lead the hashishans back to the castle while we ride directly toward Seviere. The walls are designed to prevent invasion. With little aid, a small battalion could hold them off until reinforcements arrive.”
“And keep them occupied while we engage Seviere,” Caedmon murmured.
A moment of silence descended as the three of them studied the map. Denmar was right. Ideally, a small garrison could slip over to the cliffs, deplete Braedric’s numbers and then purposely lead the hashishans back to the castle. Those guards who weren’t injured could hold off Braedric’s army, making them believe they fought the entirety of Caedmon’s forces, while meanwhile the majority of the Austiere guard rode north to fight Seviere.
The captain glanced at Rowena. “What of your Dregg legions? Could they be persuaded to such a task?”
She and Caedmon shook their heads in unison. “They refuse to enter the castle,” he explained. “Moreover, leaving them outside would alert Braedric to our plan.”
“Besides, I’d rather have them attack from behind.” Rowena slid a finger along the rear of Seviere’s red knights. “If they invade from the Black Forest then Seviere’s army would be the ones who are trapped, not us.”
“Rightly so.” Denmar nodded.
Rowena leaned her elbow on the table and set her cheek in her palm. So, what other options did that leave them? Asking the women to take up arms was a bad idea. They’d never once held a weapon, and their presence would be best served by tending the injured men.
What’s more, these were hashishans they were talking about, men whose moral code ranked well below zero. The women wouldn’t stand a chance. And if things went sour, those vipers would have no problem raping whoever they could get their hands on, regardless of age. A shiver of revulsion scurried from her nape to her boots. Either way, it was only a matter of time before those sneaky bastards figured out the ruse and charged in full force, knowing they greatly outnumbered the few guards left inside.
She drummed her fingers atop the table. If only they knew someone just as crafty. Someone good at disguise and misdirection. A group loyal to Caedmon who would love the chance to hide within Austiere walls and throw the remaining hashishans completely off guard…while at the same time fencing in their remaining numbers.
Caedmon snapped his fingers and she quickly straightened. There was a sure sign he’d been struck by an idea.
“We may yet have an advantage Braedric has not considered.” He narrowed his eyes at Denmar. “Send word to the gypsies. Tell them the son of Isadora requires their aid.”
Chapter Eight
His gut churned with the same thick disquiet which festered in the encroaching bank of thunder clouds amassing above the sea. Tightening his grip on the reins, Caedmon squinted into the magenta mist hovering along the horizon. If their plan had worked, any moment now Syme and his archers would be cresting the ridge…and the sole reason for Caedmon’s heart to continue beating would be forever lost. His saddle creaked in the edgy silence as his loyal steed danced to the side. “Steady now, Zephyrus. ‘Tis nearly time.”
He filled his lungs and slowly exhaled, fighting to relax the throbbing tension in his jaw. The deep draw of frigid air did nothing to ease his worries—he glanced down the row of Austiere guards at his left—nor did the hard mask of determination worn by the glowing beauty seated atop her white horse several feet away.
Thunder grumbled across the sky, rife with his same misery, and Caedmon shook his head. If only he held the power to go back in time, mayhap he could undo the cross words that had passed between them. Yet no reversal of days would change his mind…or the adamant refusal with which his lady had met his petition.
After finalizing the last of their war strategy, Rowena had left the armory to convey her instructions to Marcelene and Faelynn. His new queen was adamant that the women of the castle shoulder their share of the burden, and had formulated a list of chores to utilize their talents to the best of their abilities.
The headmistress and her handmaidens would make ready the infirmary, and the princess and her ladies-in-waiting were to be given the special task of tearing bedding into white strips arm bands for the Dregg legions, Rowena had stated, so they could be easily identified from those same creatures whom served Braedric’s command.
Caedmon and Denmar had departed soon on her heels to convey their orders to the guard. No small shortage of volunteers stepped forward in a bid to terrorize Braedric’s army. Word of the hashishans’ attack on he and his lady some days past had spread like a brush fire among the ranks. In the end, it was determined that Syme would lead his most deadly archers to the cliffs. The rest of the men would await their retreat at sunrise, and then make haste to the forest and the waiting scourge of Seviere’s red army.
Lightning sizzled and knifed the horizon with a blinding crack. Caedmon sighed and darted another quick glance to his left. His lady fiddled with her wrist blade, nodding as Fandorn spoke in her ear from upon his gray horse. Yet when her gaze inadvertently lifted to Caedmon’s, she jerked her eyes forward.
After conversing with the guard, Caedmon had left Denmar to field their questions and gone in search of the gray wizard. He needed to bring Fandorn abreast of their preparations, or mayhap he merely sought a friendly face and a word of fatherly advice. Even then, the tension pervading his shoulders and neck bespoke the impending wrath of his white-haired beauty. Yet this had not swayed his decision. To ensure she remained safe, his choices were slim.
The foul cloud of blue smoke permeating the lower levels of the castle, however, coupled with the distracted mutterings of its inventor, and Caedmon had quickly vacated Fandorn’s laboratory in lieu of other diversions. His old friend was deep in the throes of his own schemes to thwart Seviere and his vile wizard Gaelleod, and Caedmon recoiled at becoming ensconced in dealings he had neither the skill nor ability to manage.
He’d made for his bedchamber to await his lady’s return, ordered up a light meal and then paced before the hearth as the food grew cold.
The moment the familiar cadence of her footsteps stopped outside the threshold, he’d spun for the door. The lock had barely clicked into the latch before she was in his arms, holding tight to his neck, sealing their love with a searing kiss.
The next words he’d uttered had been mistake. He’d known before they’d left his lips. Yet he could no more stop them from forming on his tongue than he could deny she held the entirety of his heart in the gentle cup of her hand.
He would not—he could not allow her to ride for
the realm of Seviere.
Irritation had flickered like an emerald fire in the depth of her eyes, and those same embers had been the catalyst of many harsh words that had sparked between them. Refusing to see reason, she had stormed from their chambers without a backward glance.
“Based on the visual daggers slicing the air, I take it all is not well between the king and queen.” Denmar reigned in his bay roan beside Caedmon. “Far be it for me to bend the king’s ear on the brink of battle, yet a man must ask himself what in all of Helios’ bright reign you were thinking, my boy. Ordering Sorceress Rowena to remain sequestered in her chambers was foolhardy at best and imprudent beyond measure. She is a fierce warrior, Caedmon, sworn to the king’s army, and in case you’ve not noticed our forces need every blade we can muster. As a member of the royal guard, she has every right to bear arms against our enemies. Indeed, if one were to weigh the risks, I daresay our king would better left shuttered inside the castle. To forfeit your life in battle would leave our kingdom floundering without an Austiere seated upon the throne.”
Caedmon’s eyebrows remained elevated the same distance his jaw had unhinged. “She confided in you our disagreement?”
“Don’t be daft.” The captain scowled. “More seasons than I care to recall have passed since I accepted the terrible privilege of Captain of the Guard, and if there’s one thing I know it’s my soldiers. One only has to lay eyes on the lass to know you blurted some illogical nonsense.”
Anger spiked in Caedmon’s veins with all the white-hot potency of Helios’ penetrating rays. “You do not know the outcome of the day, Denmar!” Several guards to either side of them stiffened in their saddles and Caedmon lowered his voice. “She rides to her death.”
“And yet you would have her stare into the faces of her brothers and declare her life is of more value than theirs. You would wait until she is at her weakest and then deal her the harshest of blows.” The captain urged his mount forward, though his one eye remained pinned to Caedmon’s face. “We all risk our lives in service to our king. If her presence this day safeguards the Austiere Kingdom, then she ascends into paradise with my blessing, as do each of the men at her side.”