“Which means I’ll get my wish on our next disagreement.”
Brax’s horrified expression curled the sides of her lips. Without staying to hear his reply, she turned and climbed the temple steps. Cadence joined her, lifting the trail of her long, burgundy dress.
“Well, said, my princess.”
Valoria glanced over her shoulder and spoke under her breath. “I thought you were supposed to push me into his arms.”
“Following through is one matter, but becoming a mute, trophy wife is another.”
“Good to know you are still on my side.”
“We are all on the same side.” Cadence reminded her of the reason why she was here. Not to draw lines but to remove them.
They passed by Nathaniel, standing at the back of the congregation of nobles next to an older solider. He bowed his head and Valoria nodded in return. An unspoken understanding passed between them. What of, she wasn’t sure. But, it was enough for Cadence to give her another warning glare.
“That one over there I do not trust at all.”
Valoria painted on a face of innocence. “You mean Lieutenant Blueborough?”
“You know very well who I speak of.”
Valoria bit her lip. It was as if his name had been burned into her heart and there was no way to remove it. Every time she uttered it, her ears turned red.
You will be more than fair. Valoria had turned those words over and over, trying to find what manner of creature lurked underneath. Had he faith in her leadership abilities? Or did his compliment extend to more of her attributes?
She shouldn’t have given the phrase another thought, but there it was, recited through her mind like a nursery rhyme.
They reached the top of the steps and the train of her dress fell from Cadence’s hands. She huffed and picked it back up. “You wonder why there are so many.”
“They built the castle around Helena and Horred’s sacred temple. They couldn’t very well tear them down.”
“I’m aware of the history. But they could have at least leveled a few.”
Statues of the great gods stood watch on either side of the doors. Helena’s face had been carved as stoic and certain, as if she never doubted one decision in her life. Horred stood burly and tall, much like Brax with a broad forehead and a strong jaw. But, his expression was more open, as if he’d listen to even the poorest beggar on the street.
“To them the temple is sacred, just like our House of Song.” Why Valoria felt like she had to stand up for these warriors, she had no idea. They were full of grandeur and display, when the House of Song valued peacefulness and clarity.
“Every time I climb those steps I feel like ghosts hang over my shoulders.” Cadence shuddered. “All I can think of is how the undead stormed Helena and Horred’s temple and how they stayed behind to hold them off as the people burned the city around them.”
“They gave their lives so others could go on with their teachings, so they could rebuild.” Valoria poked Cadence in the arm. “You told me you weren’t afraid of Sill. That Braxten Thoridian’s army could defeat the most horrid foes.”
Cadence’s face had turned pale. She swallowed hard. “That was before a bird that should not have been flying at all fell atop our heads.”
“Helena and Horred did not have the great wall.” Valoria put her hand on Cadence’s shoulders. Even though she took a position of strength, she’d said it to calm her own nerves as well. Maybe she’d learned a thing or two from Helena’s countenance.
Cadence squeezed her arm. “With all the minstrels gone, except for you, me, and Echo, let us hope that is enough.”
* * * *
“The family is not complete without you by their side.” Timber murmured to Nathaniel as they stood three steps behind the king and queen.
Nathaniel had caught himself staring as he watched Valoria and her handmaiden leave. It took him a moment to form a reply. “I do not doubt their love for me. But, I have my place and Brax has his.”
“You are the elder son.”
“Not by blood or by name.” He gave Timber a look that told him to let it be. The king and queen had given him so much—a home, a family, a title, and a place in their army. To ask for anything more would be ungrateful. And he hadn’t wanted more. Until he’d laid eyes on Valoria.
Ashamed, he pretended to pay attention to the last of the procession. Something Echo had said the other day clung to his thoughts. The old music teacher hadn’t been surprised when Nathaniel mentioned the force that drew him to save the minstrel. Echo had known exactly who convinced Nathaniel to save him.
That same voice sang in Nathaniel’s dreams each night. Justice is served…when one man…outnumbered…has a second chance. He’d ignored it until a few moments ago, when Valoria had snapped at Brax in a commanding tone he’d not heard from her mouth before, the same voice from the battlefield.
She’d enchanted him. She’d called on him to protect her former music teacher. That, in itself wasn’t a crime. He would have done the same if she’d asked him outright. But, her secret led to another question—had she enchanted him with additional charms? Was this unhealthy preoccupation with her a product of her own doing?
Disbelief clouded his thoughts. Why would she? She was set to marry Brax. Having Nathaniel dote on her would solve nothing. In fact, it would only cause trouble, and she wasn’t a troublemaker. Guilt trickled through him for even considering it. So, if she hadn’t enchanted him, than his feelings for her were all of his own doing. He couldn’t decide which truth was worse.
“Are you well, sir?” Timber pulled him out of his trance.
Everyone had retreated up the temple steps, leaving them behind as a light rain began to fall. The townsfolk had mostly gone except for a young boy still trying to sell wooden flutes from his basket. In Ebonvale, he’d have more luck selling swords.
Nathaniel clapped Timber on the shoulder. “To tell you the truth, old friend, I’m not sure.”
“These are trying times.”
“Indeed. But, you’ve been through worse before and lived to tell of it.” Nathaniel glanced at the scar running down Timber’s face.
“Barely, sir. I cannot say the same for the late king.”
“I know you miss him.” Nathaniel smiled with compassion, even though he’d only heard tales of Danika’s father. The late king had died at the last battle of Sill before he’d ever been born.
They walked into the foyer. Some of the nobles stayed and mingled, chatting over glasses of wine. Valoria was nowhere to be seen. After watching her countrymen leave, he couldn’t blame her.
Brax approached him with a solemn nod. Timber bowed, leaving him to speak with his brother alone.
A servant offered them a platter of cheese. Nathaniel declined, but Brax took a large wedge. He was never one to turn down food. “We have not spoken much as of late.”
Nathaniel smiled to show no harm had been done. “You have been busy with your future bride.”
“As if.” Brax bit into the cheese. “There are too many threats to think of marriage at a time like this.”
“You could leave them to your father. He is still king.” Nathaniel gestured to where the king and queen stood surrounded by a ring of nobles and advisors.
Brax shook his head. “He wants to see me rule. Ever since he damaged his knee, he has taken a back seat. I must not disappoint him.”
“You will never disappoint him.” The king’s love for Brax ran so deep, it had overshadowed everything else in his life, except for the queen. After Brax was born, there was no room for an orphan son from a burnt village. They had an appropriate heir.
Brax studied Nathaniel with his beady eyes. “You have always been my greatest supporter when you’ve had so much reason to despise me.”
“You are my younger brother, and it is my duty to do so.” Nathaniel took a glass from a servant’s tray and raised it to Brax. “Besides, I have no desire to be king.”
“That is fortunate.” Brax scanned the room as if sizing up every noble there and finding them wanting. “We have enough problems as it is.”
Chapter 10
In the Deep
Cold, putrid air wafted over the battlements. Nathaniel pulled his cloak around his shoulders, scanning the dark moors for any sign of movement in the moon’s silver light. The surface lay untouched, stagnant and dead like the land beyond.
If only he knew what the enemy had planned. Sill had stirred, for certain. But was it shifting in its sleep or had it fully awoken?
Shuffling came from the eastern ledge. A dark shape hunched to the side took slow steps forward. Nathaniel’s heart stopped.
Was it an undead? How did it get up on the battlements?
The shape approached with slow determination with a distinctive stumble favoring the right side.
Nathaniel’s hand fell to the hilt of his sword. “Who goes there?”
“Only an old man.” The figure stepped into the torch’s light.
Nathaniel breathed in relief and surprise. “My king, what are you doing up this late hour?”
Bronford Thoridian’s battle armor gleamed as if it had never been used. A slight dent in the breastplate and a scratch on the right arm told otherwise. His thick, jeweled claymore hung on his belt. “Sleep has eluded me. I wanted to take the morning watch.”
“That is not necessary. We have enough men.”
Bron leaned on the stone wall. “I have done nothing for too long. The queen keeps me locked away as if I were a cripple, unable to defend myself.”
Nathaniel breathed to speak, but the king raised a hand to silence him. “It is only out of love. She fears I will meet a horrible end.”
Nathaniel smiled. “So will we all someday.”
“But not today.” The king smiled fondly and touched Nathaniel’s shoulder. “It seems like forever since we’ve talked.”
Nathaniel shrugged, although he had to admit he was pleased to spend this time together. “I try to stay out of the drama.”
Bron laughed. “I remember a little boy named Nip with a wooden sword who very much enjoyed drama.”
Nathaniel placed his hand on his brow. “I have since grown out of that horrid phase.”
The king smiled. “You have come so far and done well for yourself.”
“That is because someone gave that little boy a chance.”
Bron waved his compliment away. “I gave you what I could. I wish I could have given you more.”
Nathaniel paused. The king had never spoken of such things. “I do not know what you mean.”
“All these years tradition has tied my hands. In the eyes of the law, you have no place in noble society. The queen and I have had to act accordingly to ensure the people have a clear heir, to ensure Brax’s reign.”
“I understand. You do not have to—”
The king raised his hand to interrupt. “Let me speak.” He shifted his weight on the stone wall. The suit of armor must have been heavy for his damaged knee. Yet, a warrior would not yield to his own weakness.
“I cannot give you my inheritance, but you will always have my love.”
Nathaniel’s heart warmed. All of the times the king had favored Brax over him melted away. “Thank you, my king. That is all I ever wanted.” A wave of melancholy hit him. Bronford Thoridian would never replace his real father, but they’d shared so many moments alike to that of a father and a son.
The king reached out and placed his hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder. “I am proud of the man you’ve become. Brax may be more fit to lead a battle, but you have more wisdom to rule a kingdom.”
“It is not my place to judge.”
“Yes, but as a father to you both, I must judge if I am to ensure the kingdom survives.”
Nathaniel froze, feeling as though he trespassed on sacred ground. What was the king leading to? He couldn’t want Nathaniel to take Brax’s place, could he? Nathaniel would never agree to such an upheaval. Even if he did, the people would never accept him as their king.
“Brax is hotheaded at times, but he has a noble heart, and I love him deeply—just as much as I love you. Promise me, when I am gone, you will look after him and steer him on the right course when he falters.”
Nathaniel gave him a stern glance. “You are strong and healthy with many years—”
The king took his hand and squeezed. Desperation filled his eyes. “Just promise me.”
“I promise.” The words came out easy. He’d only ever intended for that himself.
“Good. Now I’ll be able to sleep at night.” The king winked. “Now leave and allow me to take your place, just this once.”
Nathaniel nodded. As he moved past the king, a low moan chilled his bones to the core. He ran to the other side of the wall and glanced down into the moors. The torchlight flickered over brownish muck and oily black waters. A pale hand broke the surface, grasping blindly at the wall beside the ramp. Dirty fingers groped as another hand, then another broke free.
“Sound the alarm!” Nathaniel called to the watchmen on the other side of the wall. “The water has concealed their attack.”
The sound of metal sliding rang behind him. Nathaniel turned to see the king unsheathing his sword. Hungry eagerness lit his eyes, and his face was rigid, and brave. “Then we will fight.”
Nathaniel had never been a religious man, but he drew the sign of Helena’s sword across his chest. “May the gods save us all.”
* * * *
Valoria tossed in her bed. A simmering agitation filled the crisp night air, and every nerve in her body stood at attention. She kicked against the sheets until she lay on bare satin with goose bumps prickling her skin. A putrid stink wafted from outside, and she covered her mouth with her hand. Had the servants emptied all the chamber pots under her window?
A man shouted from the northern part of the city.
She bolted upright, gasping in air. “Cadence, did you hear that?”
The door to her handmaiden’s room lay open by a crack, but no answer came.
“Cadence?” Valoria hissed as she jumped out of bed. She ran to the balcony, but could see nothing in the darkness.
“What is it, my lady?” Cadence stumbled in wrapped in her blanket like a caterpillar in a cocoon. Her braid had moved to the top right side of her head, reminding Valoria of a unicorn.
“I thought I heard something.”
Cadence tugged her arm. “It must have been a nightmare. Let me get you back to bed. You need your rest.”
“It couldn’t have been a nightmare because I haven’t slept a wink.” Valoria’s stomach churned. She hadn’t lived in the castle for long, but she sensed something wasn’t right. “Do you not smell that foul stench?”
Cadence rubbed her eyes, already bored. “My nose is stuffed. ’Tis all the old tapestries.”
Clanging chimes made Valoria’s body rigid. A church bell rang as if it were broad daylight.
Cadence’s eyes widened. “Has the bell boy gone mad?”
“No, not mad.” Panic bolted through Valoria’s veins as she heard additional shouts, all coming from the wall. “That’s an alarm.” Valoria launched back into her room and dug out her riding suit.
Cadence followed her, then stood like a scarecrow and stared with her mouth wide open. “What are you doing? Are you mad?”
Valoria slipped on her underskirt and riding coat. “I’m lending my assistance.”
“Oh no, you’re not. Echo will have my head if I let you go out there.” Cadence placed herself in front of the door.
Valoria strapped her harp to her back. “He’ll have your head if you stand in my way. Echo was the one who told me I have to go.”
“What?” Cadence didn’t budge, but she’d lost some of her earlier resolve. “I cannot believe that nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense.” Valoria stared her down. “Echo believes I can help.”
C
adence put a hand on her side. “Just you, all by yourself with your harp?”
Valoria nodded. “I know I can. Just this once, will you believe in me? Will you let me go?” If Cadence didn’t, Valoria would have to knock her upside the head and leave her unconscious. Besides, if her own handmaiden couldn’t believe in her, then maybe Echo had lost his mind in that apothecary shop.
Cadence nodded. “All right. But don’t do anything foolish.”
“I will stay safe.” Valoria kissed her cheek. “Besides, you do not play a harp from the front line.”
* * * *
Nathaniel hefted a bucket of hot oil over the wall. As it fell, archers raised their bows with flaming arrows. The oil splattered on the pale heads of the undead, then burst to flame.
The undead writhed, climbing upon each other blindly until the flames ate their skin away and nothing held their bones together. Nathaniel uttered a prayer as their bodies fell into the muck. Could the undead join Helena and Horred in their holy temple in the sky?
“Over here, sir! Look!”
His soldiers called from the battlements above the gate. Some of the undead had walked from the mud with flames engulfing their bodies. Instead of blindly throwing themselves against the stone walls, they fell at the thick oak of the gate.
“Water!” Nathaniel called from the wall. “Bring it to the back gate.”
He glanced over his shoulder. The king stood with a battalion of soldiers behind the gate with their swords drawn. If the undead breached the wall, how many of those young men would lose their lives and join the ranks of the other side?
“Now!” Nathaniel threw himself down the steps and grabbed a bucket carried by a servant. He ran back up the stairs three at a time, reached the wall, and dumped it over. The small splash disappeared in the flaming ball that had become the back gate.
“We need more water!” He ran down with the empty bucket.
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