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Fury (Tranquility Book 3)

Page 21

by Krista D. Ball


  A gust of force, invisible and unexpected, slammed against him, sucking the breath from his lungs. Arrago gasped and wheezed as he suffocated. Finally, he inhaled a ragged breath and coughed as his lungs burned.

  Erem leaned into his horse—Erem was a stunningly good horseman, far better than Bethany or Jovan—and cleaved through three-quarters of the attacking Magi’s neck. Then Erem yanked his Blessed Blade out of the flesh and kept going.

  Arrago’s horse slowed as his attention to the horse’s momentum faltered. He gasped a couple more breaths.

  “Shields!” One of his defenders shouted and a pillar of shields encircled them. Several arrows pounded the wall, but none got through.

  Arrago turned to the row of trees, and he saw her.

  She wore a helmet, but there was no mistaking her even at this distance. Bethany was still in the tabard he’d last seen her in, though it was no longer white. A dozen or so horses charged with her and Bethany’s charge slammed into the flank nearest him. She’d been waiting for this moment. Arrows pinged from the trees, not many, but they were deadly precise.

  Bethany held a spear in one hand and she lobbed it through a poorly-armoured rider’s torso. She switched the reins to her free arm and began to hack riders as she charged through their flank.

  Arrago dodged an axe and took the man’s arm off in reply; the man fell from his horse and was trampled under the highly-disciplined horses of his guards.

  Three of the enemy stood in their stirrups, looking in Bethany’s direction.

  Arrago tried to shout a warning, but the noise of battle was too much. Horrified, he watched the three men gather fire in their hands. Bethany raised her sword, a fruitless gesture to defend herself against the heat of Magical attack.

  “Bethany!” Arrago shouted and began to charge, knowing it was already too late. She hadn’t even looked at him yet. She might not even realize he was here fighting with her.

  “Protect the King!” his main defender shouted, and the riders closed ranks around him as they charged through the battle.

  The three Magi hurled their balls of flame at his precious, fierce Bethany. The thought rushed through his mind that one of his personal guards was a healer; maybe she could be brought back from whatever horrible fate was about to descend on her.

  But Bethany just smiled and kept her sword high. The flying balls of flame licked around the blade. What seemed like a normal, everyday sword, was now a living weapon of flame. The three Magi hurled more at her, but Bethany raised her sword once more and this time sent the flame back. The three Magi went up in a blaze. The horses, understandably terrified at carrying flaming men, bucked and bolted, dropping the three badly burned Magi on the ground.

  “Enough!” Bethany shrieked and her voice made his ears rings. The horses protested and it took all of Arrago’s skill not to topple. Several around him weren’t so lucky.

  “I am Lady Champion Bethany, daughter of Apexia! Lay down your weapons!”

  Arrago’s eyes grew wide and a smile stretched his face. Whatever had happened, her Power was back.

  Not surprisingly, the remaining Magi force quickly surrendered. They knelt on the ground, weapons tossed to the ground. Bethany shouted orders, her expression stern and her voice harsher. Pride swelled in him as Arrago watched her, so commanding and majestic on her horse, organize hundreds of enemy and ally alike.

  Arrago caught Bethany’s eye and, just for the briefest moment, her face was transformed. Right there, he knew she still loved him. He knew she would get to read the letter he’d written her. He knew his Bethany was safe.

  She eventually made her way over to him, and Arrago couldn’t help think she was dragging out the reunion on purpose. She rode up to him and said in a calm voice, as if they’d passed each other in Gree’s hallway, “Greetings, Majesty.”

  And he said, in as dry as a voice as he could manage, “Hello Lady Bethany. I’m here to rescue you.”

  ****

  Bethany threw back her head and roared with laughter. She resisted the urge to haul him off his horse and kiss him right there, but it was a close one. She didn’t bother to hide the grin on her face anymore. Neither did Arrago. She never thought she’d see his face again and it was good to see him.

  “Thanks for visiting my island paradise!” Bethany shouted.

  Erem trotted up to her, a huge smile on his face too. She glanced at his tabard and noticed the hastily-stitched insignia on it. “I always knew you were after my job.”

  “I never made it a secret,” Erem said, that stupid grin still on his face. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “All right, all right. That’s enough gooey shit. Is Jovan here?”

  Erem nodded, still smiling. “Back at the main camp.”

  “Let’s clean up this mess, organize how best to look after the prisoners and determine if there are Magi in the group, and then let’s get back to Jovan,” she said.

  “Hey!” Erem protested, “I’m in charge here. You’re dead.” He cleared his throat. “Lady Bethany.”

  Bethany chuckled. She was in the wrong, after all, but she wanted to needle him a little. “If we’re going to be technical, King Arrago is in charge.” She winked at Arrago.

  “Well, since my opinion’s being asked, let’s us head back to camp, and Sir James and his men can coordinate with our main force to clean up this clusterfuck.”

  “Aww,” Bethany crooned. “You swore.”

  “Just for you, my lady.”

  Erem let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, shit. I just got demoted.”

  CHAPTER 20

  With Sir James in charge of the round up, Bethany returned to camp with Arrago’s personal guard, Erem, and her own men. The rest were left behind to clean up the corpses, continue the scouting, and gather intelligence. Bethany gave Sir James what she knew of the area, and promised to send a rider in the morning with more details.

  Arrago and Erem peppered her with relentless questions, bouncing off each other to the point that she couldn’t even keep up. They wanted to know what happened, where she’d been, why she hadn’t sent word.

  Then, just as fast, they launched into Myra: where had she been, what had she seen, where were the others?

  “Gentlemen!” Bethany scolded. “It’s been a rough couple of weeks. We’ll talk this out later. Right now, we need a hot meal and a long sleep, and that includes me.”

  “Of course,” Erem said. “I apologize.”

  “I’m excited,” Arrago said, the stupid grin still on his face. “But I can wait.”

  When Bethany arrived at the camp, the cheer that went up from the troops was deafening. Her cheeks ached from smiling. Arrago, his horse in front of hers, still surrounded by that guard of his, jumped off his horse. Bethany did the same.

  “Jovan!” Arrago shouted. “Jovan! Get your elven ass out here!”

  Jovan threw back the flaps of his tent and stared at Bethany. “Beth?”

  She laughed as she walked up to him. “I always said I’d end up here before you.”

  “You fucking wench!” He snarled. “I’ve been worried sick about you!” Jovan grabbed her into a tight embrace, picking her feet clear off the ground.

  She laughed, protesting his manhandling of her. She slapped him and laughed some more. “It’s so good to see you. Let me clean up and sleep for an hour. Then, let’s talk war, shall we?”

  He nodded. “I’ll get the basics from Erem.” He looked at her crew. “Miss Myra! Jackson! Good to see you both.” He inclined his head at the others. “Good work everyone. Let’s get you some hot food and beer. Bert here will take care of you. See that they’re all brought to the war tent after supper.”

  “Yes, sir,” Bert said.

  “Make sure you get them a healer,” Bethany instructed. “They’ll all hurt.”

  “Of course, Lady Bethany,” Bert said, bowing low.

  Bethany turned to Jovan. “Where do you want me? I’m starving and could use some sleep.”

&n
bsp; Jovan opened his mouth, but Arrago cut him off. “I’ll look after it. Lady Rory?” Arrago called out.

  One of the horseguards trotted up to Bethany and the King. Lady Rory was a tall, fresh-faced human woman. “Majesty.”

  “Please find Lady Bethany appropriate accommodation.”

  “Of course.” Lady Rory dismounted. “When you’re ready, Lady Bethany.”

  ****

  Bethany washed her face in the tepid water and let out an inappropriately pleased sound at having any part of her body clean. She tugged off her tabard and threw it over a nearby chair. She had to get someone to help her out of her armour, but she wanted to enjoy the solitude for a few moments first.

  She started to laugh. The laughter rolled over her, growing in pitch. She was all right. The boundary was down and they were all here together. The war was going to end soon. Regardless of which way, the wait and soul-crushing anticipation was over.

  She looked around Arrago’s tent. Of course they’d put her in here. She should be in Jovan and Erem’s tent, but that damned Lady Rory had led her up here. She muttered something about not having accommodation appropriate to a woman of her station, and she’d personally see to finding her own tent with other high-ranking women.

  There was a time it would have annoyed her, but now it just made her laugh. She didn’t care what people thought. She wasn’t hiding anymore. She was Bethany, daughter of Apexia and the Lady Champion. She could be both now, and it was a glorious feeling.

  “Bethany, may I come in?”

  She smiled at Arrago’s muffled question from beyond the heavy tarp walls. “Of course.”

  The tarp parted and Arrago walked in, a wide smile threatening to crack his face. “Rory told me she’d brought you here.”

  “I hope you don’t mind.” Bethany cocked an eyebrow and feigned a helpless voice. “You see, Majesty, I have no place to sleep.”

  He smiled. “As long as I’m alive, you’ll always have a place to sleep.”

  He reached out his hand and she took it. They wrapped their arms around each other and Bethany let him try to crush her ribs with his embrace. She’d been in grave danger, so she’d had little time to think about those left behind in Castle Gree. She’d known she was alive, but they hadn’t.

  “I can’t believe you’re alive,” Arrago said, laughing. Pure stunned joy filled his voice. “I can’t believe it.”

  Then the dam broke. Arrago picked her off the ground, spinning her around. He kissed her so hard on the mouth that she stumbled backwards, and for a terrifying moment she thought they were going to end up in the firepit. She pulled away and smacked him gently on the side of the head.

  “You’re alive,” Arrago choked. “Gentle Goddess, you’re alive. You’re covered in blood and you’re alive.”

  Arrago gripped her in his embrace and she didn’t even bother to care. Three weeks. She’d been fighting to get back for three weeks. She could only imagine how worried they all were. Joyous tears streamed down her cheeks and she couldn’t stop laughing. She squeezed him. “It takes more than a kidnapping and a dozen beatings to stop me.”

  Arrago stepped back and stared at her. “Beatings? Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she said, forcing a smile. “They weren’t my first, but…I’m not keen on talking about what they did to me. Not yet.”

  Arrago’s expression darkened. “Did they…?”

  She knew what he wanted to ask, but couldn’t say the word. “They didn’t do that to me, nor any of my crew. They threatened. They were too busy using their fists and boots to do anything else.” She snorted, even if her words turned dark. “They thought I was a scared little girl. They were wrong.”

  He stroked her face, where her scar still remained. “I’m sorry they hurt you all the same.”

  “I’m a big girl,” she said with a smile. “I can defend myself.”

  “Speaking of defending yourself,” Arrago said. “I have something for you. A little gift from Allric.”

  “Allric?”

  Arrago crossed the tent and crouched down next to a trunk. He flipped the latch and pulled out a bundle of fabric. He walked back to her. He smiled and put the parcel on the small table where she’d been washing. “For you.”

  Bethany gave him a side-glance, untied the leather bow and unwrapped the fabric. Inside were her Blessed Blades. There was no mistaking them; each pommel had a B engraved in it. The blades were in the same condition as she last saw them: filthy with blood and mud. And they were hers. “Where did you find them?”

  “Erem found them when he was looking for you. Allric gave them to me, just in case you were here. He thought you might need them.”

  Bethany held them out in front of her and beamed. She flipped them back to rest on her shoulders. “I’m just missing my harness now. They cut the fucker off me.”

  “Keep looking,” he said, grinning.

  Bethany put the swords on the table and opened the fabric further. Her scabbard! Her worn, beaten, dirty scabbard, with a shiny new strap of leather.

  “Allric had it repaired. Just in case.”

  She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “I’m whole again.”

  His voice dropped to a rich sound when he replied, “I’m sorry we fought, before you left.”

  She put the scabbard down. “As I am. We’re very good at dancing around what we actually want to say.”

  “It gets tedious.”

  “It does.”

  He reached out and touched her face. “I can’t believe you’ve alive, standing here in front of me.”

  “I am sorry if I worried you.”

  Arrago made a dismissive sound. “I wasn’t worried.”

  “I wish I believed you.” She glanced at the dirty floor before looking back up at him. “I am so sorry for the way I treated you before I left. I hadn’t even adjusted to you and Celeste, and then…she was just gone. I don’t adapt quickly, Arrago. Elves rarely do. It’s not an excuse, I know. I need to take my time. I hope you understand that.”

  He smiled and took his hand away from her face. He reached down and found her hands. “I have always understood. I can only apologize for pushing you, when I know better.” He brought her hands to his lips and kissed the nicks and cuts on them. “Forgive me?”

  “Always,” she whispered. She leaned her forehead against his. “Always.”

  “Want some help with your armour?”

  “Arrago, I don’t want to…I mean, I have to focus on…”

  Arrago chuckled. “My beautiful, lovely, violent Bethany, I would never ask nor expect you to have sex with me while we’re invading a country.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Sarissa sat in the Abbey’s chapel and waited. She knew the building was surrounded. Cavalry was not quiet, even when it wasn’t charging forth into battle. Sarissa didn’t bother to look out of the window; it would only confirm what she already knew. The battle had been lost, and soon the war. If she were dead, would that automatically mean the war was over? Who would take over from her when Bethany came to kill her? Robert was dead. Quentin was dead. All of her inner circle were dead or at Castle Brook.

  Perhaps someone at Castle Brook would take command. They would step into the light and be a beacon for the oppressed.

  The evil must be purged. The end is here. Do not waver from your purpose.

  Sarissa squeezed her eyes shut and fought against the imaginary voices. She longed to purge herself of the Power that warred with the Magic in her veins. She knew she could rid herself of it, if only she could stay focused long enough. However, the Power refused to let her. Every attempt at a spell brought Bethany’s consciousness rearing to the forefront of Sarissa’s thoughts.

  She’d even tried rituals, where there was more repetition than focus. But those too failed. Bethany’s essence was possessing her and doing what Bethany did best: protecting Sarissa from herself.

  Here, at the end, Sarissa found herself in a surprising mood. She no longer feared the oblivion that would
come to her. Apexia would never take her on the Wind now, not after everything she’d done. Sarissa’s spirit would remain trapped here until it forgot who and what it was, and then fade away, forgotten, unmourned, unloved.

  The evil must end. I must protect the world, no matter the cost.

  A timid knock at the door interrupted her. A beat later, an equally timid voice said, “My lady? They’re here.”

  Sarissa drew in a deep breath. Yes, this was indeed the end. She’d failed in every possible way. She had not protected Bethany, her most beloved sister and friend. They’d become strangers and enemies. Only two people who loved each other that much could hate with such passion. The betrayal ran so deep for Bethany. Sarissa felt the guilt of that knowledge and, while she could no longer cry, she would have wept if she could.

  She’d failed at everything. She’d failed at exposing Apexia’s deceptions, and failed to topple a false divine being. Sarissa should have remained focused on just Apexia, but the untethering of her mind had made it impossible. Looking back, Sarissa wondered if it had been Apexia all along leading her down this path. Why hadn’t Apexia done more to stop her? Why hadn’t Apexia tried to stop her? Why had her own mother turned her back on Sarissa so quickly?

  Of course. Sarissa had been too drunk with Power to realize. Every action or inaction of Apexia had been to alienate her, to drive her to Magic and not from it. She’d lost everything decades ago. There’d been no point to trying to do anything else.

  She wanted to be bitter, but there wasn’t even room for that anymore. She simply wanted to cease being.

  “What should I do, Lady Sarissa? There’s just us here.”

  Sarissa lifted her chin and drew in a deep breath. “Tell them I surrender unconditionally. They can come get me.”

  There was no more hiding now. Sarissa drew in a deep breath, oddly happy. For the first time in a long time, Sarissa was truly happy. The weight on her shoulders was about to be lifted. She stood from the chair and pushed it back into its place at the table. She would be standing when they came for her.

 

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