Chronicles of Steele: Raven: The Complete Story

by Pauline Creeden

  No casualties. It should have been a massacre. Impossible that they still lived. Each of his men stood and gathered together in a group like soaked chicks looking for a hen to sit under. Clenching and unclenching his jaw, Jack continued to sit in the fast forming mud. The wind picked up and chilled his wet shoulders. Two soldiers stumbled from the woods, their clothing stuck to their arms and chest. Harry and Colton seemed uninjured but shaken.

  “Why?” Rupert put a voice to the question that flitted around Jacks head like a caged bird.

  Jack met eyes with his second-in-command. Lightheaded and dazed, he decided to remain silent.

  Rupert’s expression was hard to judge in the half-light. His dark skin and eyes made him look like a shadow against the trees. He sneered as he continued. “Not one of us is injured, except for the fog in our heads. She had Colton’s sword. That blade was cared for and sharpened daily; no one takes better care of their weapon than him. So, why are we still alive?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.” Jack took the arm Rupert extended and pulled himself from the mud with a sucking sound.

  The rain fell into his eyes and ran down his face. No need to brush off. The rain would soon wash the soiled clothes.

  “There will be no trail to follow, now with the rain.” Rupert shook his head and stood with his hands on his hips.

  “That’s for certain.”

  Bradley came over, shivering from head to toe. His teeth chattered as he asked, “What will we do now?”

  Jack ventured a glance in the direction Raven and Darius had likely gone. He longed to go after them, but felt unsure in so many ways. How would it be different this time? What could he do to alter the outcome? A mistake learned from is an experience. A failure is when you learn nothing from your mistake. He shook his head, the gears turning to figure out what needed to change.

  Colton interrupted his thoughts. The pale, blonde soldier’s high cheekbones hinted at his relation to the nobility, but his wet hair stuck like straw to his wrinkled brow. “Captain, have you seen my sword?”

  Keep a distance.

  Even a friend can become an enemy in an instant.

  Know when it’s time to hide wounds even from a friend.

  RAVEN ACHED ALL over. Not one part of her body settled without screaming in pain. She steeled herself and opened her eyes, meeting the southern apple-green eyes of Dr. Gregory Patrick. A taut smile stretched her lips. It hurt.

  “Gregory.” Her voice cracked and sounded foreign to her own ears. Her throat was too dry.

  “Hey, you. Do you always have to show up on my doorstep half-dead?”

  One small chuckle shook her frame, and she winced in the pain. It hurt to laugh.

  “Easy, Raven. Your body needs a lot of recovery.” Gregory stood and backed away from the side of the bed.

  She recognized the plain stucco ceiling overhead as that of Gregory’s family farmhouse. The unadorned white walls glowed bright in the light of the sun from the bay window. From the kitchen in the house she knew by heart, the smell of cookies rose to her bedside. Gregory’s mother, Mrs. Patrick, had always baked when she came for a visit, but his mother had been gone for almost four years now. A warm feeling enveloped her as she thought of Gregory baking them for her.

  “You’ve had me quite worried.” His eyebrows knit together in a stern line. He pushed a tendril of her hair from her forehead, and she loved the cool brush of his fingertips. “You’ve been asleep for three days.”

  “Sorry.” She mouthed the word, but the breath to say it stopped behind the lump in her throat.

  “I know you are, Raven, but don’t be.” He rested his hand on her shoulder, and his firm expression fled. “We’ve been taking good care of you and of Darius.”

  We? Raven wondered who else he could mean. Mr. and Mrs. Patrick had been gone for years. It had been too long since Raven’s last visit. Her last mission had taken two years to fulfill. She wondered if he might have gotten some help in the meantime.

  “I’ll fetch you a broth. You must be hungry.”

  She nodded, but her throat cried for liquid. The intravenous needle might be putting fluid directly into her bloodstream, but it did nothing to squelch her insatiable thirst. Gregory tripped over the threshold as he headed for the door but caught himself at the doorjamb. Best doctor in the countryside, and still didn’t know where his two feet were.

  A moment later, the tawny Great Dane loped into the room and jumped up, putting her front end on Raven’s gut. She winced and closed her eyes to the sudden pain and gasped for breath.

  “Nikki!” Darius bolted into the room after his dog.

  Raven squeezed her eyelids as a giant pink tongue accosted her face. After receiving a shove with her needle-free right arm, the Great Dane dismounted her bed. Raven couldn’t help but smile. “Hi, Baron Darius, how are you doing?” Her voice sounded gruff and unfamiliar.

  “Me? I’m fine. It’s you I’ve been worried about for three days!” The boy looked exasperated, and his blue eyes were glistening. He had a cup in his hand.

  “No need to worry about me—I’m sure the doctor is taking good care of me, as always.” She took the cup and swallowed a quick sip.

  “Have you seen his basement? He has a laboratory larger than my father’s alchemist!” Darius leaned his elbows into the side of the bed.

  She nodded and set the cup on the bedside table. “Medicine is a strange mixture of science and alchemy these days, and that laboratory used to be Gregory’s father’s.”

  “He told me.”

  The sound of boots approaching on the hardwood floor of the hallway caused them both to turn to the doorway in anticipation. Like an impatient puppy, Nikki bounded out the door to greet Gregory before he made it to the room.

  Lifting his arm higher to keep the dog from the tray he held in his hand, the doctor chuckled as he entered. His green eyes shone like emeralds, and his dimples showed in his smile. Her heart leapt. He’d removed his jacket and vest, his red suspenders exposed in an intimate way. It reminded Raven of how his father would snap the same red straps as he’d talk to punctuate his sentences. The sleeves on Gregory’s white linen shirt were rolled up to the elbows, exposing his forearms. They were no longer the thin, awkward, adolescent arms she had remembered. His arms showed the strength and dexterity of the man he’d become. “I hope you’re in the mood for a cookie or two.”

  Before she could nod, Darius leapt to his feet. “Yes!” He looked at Raven, clapping his hands gently in his excitement. “These are the best things I’ve ever eaten. Have you ever had a chocolate chip cookie?”

  She raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are you telling me you’d never had a cookie before?”

  He shook his head, his enthusiasm wavering.

  “Well, it makes no difference,” she assured him. “If Gregory is using his mother’s old recipe, it would still be one of the best things you’d ever eaten.”

  She smiled at Gregory. Her smile faltered as his face grew pale and his green eyes, uncertain. The genuine smile he’d had a moment before seemed frozen in a half-grimace. The jovial mood turned awkward for a moment, and it set Raven’s teeth on edge.

  Feet padded in the hallway.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she found her crossbow and the red corded sword handle. Automatically she judged her ability to reach them. Were they followed? The footsteps were well hidden by slippers and seemed lighter than a man’s usual tread. Was it a reaper, trained in silencing techniques? She gripped the sheet and coverlet, preparing to jump from the bed.

  A shocking yellow gingham dress rounded the corner, and the enemy’s voice was light and lilting. “Oh, wonderful. The patient is awake.”

  The sudden sting of tears behind Raven’s eyes needed blinking away. She’d come so close to killing this woman. The thought of what she would have done if her weapons were closer or her body less stiff. She’d never killed accidently before.

  “Yes, Amelia, our patient is.” Gregory’s grimace d
idn’t quite leave as he took a step back and placed an arm around the woman’s shoulders.

  With the action, a lump formed in Raven’s throat. It was a servant, right? A nurse?

  Raven did her best to convince herself of this untruth, even as another question inside bubbled up. Why does he have his arm around this woman?

  “Excellent. It’s been so long since I’ve had a female for company in this isolated farmhouse. I tell Gregory all the time we should sell it and move to the city. His practice would grow so much faster there. Don’t you agree?”

  The woman’s words registered themselves in Raven’s brain faster than she could deny them. The pain of realization made her feel faint. She fell back into her pillows and closed her eyes. If she couldn’t see it, would it go away? Foolishness. The lies a child would tell herself. She forced her eyes open again.

  Gregory held Amelia’s hand as he said, “Dear, I think it’s too much for her right now. Maybe you can converse with her later?”

  “Oh of course, she’s just woken. Darius, please bring Nikki into the kitchen. I’m preparing ox tail broth for our patient, and I’m sure your dog will enjoy a bone or two.” With a smile and a gentle wave of her hand, she gathered the boy and his brown shadow and left in the same sing-song way she’d entered.

  “Who?” Raven could barely stammer the word.

  Gregory swallowed hard, his hands clasped as though they were handcuffed in front of him. “Amelia is my wife. We were married in the spring, six months ago.”

  “Oh.” Raven screamed inside. Her heart shattered in so many sharp pieces, they cut the insides of her ribcage as they fell to her stomach. She wanted to sob. But instead, she found herself smiling and saying, “That’s wonderful.”

  Gregory’s smile grew impossibly wide as he knelt at her bedside, holding the side. “Thank you. I had hoped you’d both become friends. Amelia is so lonely here. Won’t you stay awhile?”

  Raven clenched and unclenched her jaw, hiding behind the puppet-like smile on her face. The old standby came out automatically. “I have a mission.”

  His face fell, and his words came out terse. “Of course. How long?”

  She closed her eyes and assessed her pain. “How long will it take me to heal?”

  Raven felt him push off from the bed as he stood again. His voice took on the clinical tone his father used to use with his patients. “The blood transfusions were successful, and the stitches seem to be taking. With your strong constitution, you should be up and about in less than a week. However, you’ll need to stay a fortnight before I can remove your stitches.”

  She nodded, her hair knotting on the pillow. A fortnight worried her. The rain should have washed away any tracks. The doctor’s house sat so far off the main roads, she hoped the guards would believe she’d never come this way. She opened her eyes. His back was turned to her, as if he studied the picture on the wall. Betraying his unhappiness, his hands fidgeted behind his back.

  “Do you know who Darius is?” Her voice cracked as she asked. She felt hollow inside, resigned to the fact he didn’t love her anymore.

  “The only Darius I would know of is the young baron. Surely there are more boys named Darius in New Haven.”

  “He is the baron, Gregory. I’m to take him to the Wood Witch.”

  He spun on his heel to face her. “What on earth for?”

  Raven sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. “Medicine, science, and even alchemy do not hold all the answers. Sometimes things happen that can’t be explained.”

  “Like what?”

  “The heir apparent has asked I take that boy to the Wood Witch in the hopes his demon can be removed.”

  Gregory laughed. “Demon?”

  Raven nodded.

  “Surely you must be joking. How could a nine-year-old boy harbor a demon, even if there were such a thing?”

  “I didn’t want to believe it either. And maybe there is a scientific explanation for what happens to the boy, but I’ve seen it happen twice.”

  Gregory’s eyebrows knitted. “Seen what happen twice?”

  “Machines, especially automatons…malfunction around him.”

  “That’s got to be purely coincidental.”

  “Apparently it happens often enough that the boy’s father wants him dead.”

  Gregory paled. “The duke? Killing his own son? You must be joking.”

  “No. The boy has been to the bishop for a failed exorcism. The Wood Witch is his last hope.”

  “The Wood Witch is a gross exaggeration of good alchemy gone bad.” Gregory shook his head. “The fact the exorcism failed should be evidence for an explanation other than demon possession.”

  “It makes no difference,” Raven said with a yawn. “I have a mission I was paid to complete, and in three days I’ll be out of your hair.” She neglected to mention the fact she’d lost the payment when the horse ran off.

  “Three days is hardly a fortnight.” Gregory said through clenched teeth as he paced the floor. “You can’t just do whatever you want to, Raven. You’re not a teenager anymore. Your father isn’t even around to care if you’re becoming the kind of reaper he wanted you to be. You are killing yourself for no reason. When will you stop this?”

  Her eyes stung and her chest tightened. She had wanted to stop. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him. But she was too late. How much had changed in the past two years? She had no need for stopping now.

  At least when she was on a mission she felt confident in her abilities. She had no idea how to keep a home. Would she get bored? She could hardly console the nine-year-old boy in her care. What kind of mother would she be? She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see his green eyes boring into her soul as they always did.

  She could be strong and not show her weakness. It was one thing she knew she was very good at. She finally answered in a nonchalant tone. “Maybe never.”

  If the enemy knows one's weakness, he can use it to his advantage.

  If a stone lodges in one's shoe, do not limp. Walk with head held high.

  Run if need be.

  SHE WANTED TO run. Three days later, Raven walked the row between the fields, ignoring the searing ache in her thigh. That pain was miniscule in comparison to the vacant place in her chest where her heart used to be. Boy and dog bounded in front of her, stretching their legs after such a long time cooped in the farmhouse. With his haircut and farm boy overalls, Darius no longer looked like a baron. She smiled at his brilliant, unplanned disguise.

  The doctor walked with her. “Wait at least a week before you think of removing those stitches. Please get as much rest as you can.” He stopped walking for a moment and whispered, “I wish you’d stay.”

  Could he make the void in her chest hurt worse? Raven doubted it. She kept walking, forcing him to jog two steps to catch up.

  “What is your plan?”

  She swallowed. If he were found out by the guard and questioned, she would rather he knew nothing. Besides, who knew how trustworthy his prattling young wife would be? She could let a word or two go by without a thought of how it would affect things. After spending three days with the woman, Raven judged her a definite gossip. She decided that since she hadn’t completely made up her mind yet, it wouldn’t be a lie. “I’m not sure.”

  Gregory nodded as if he knew she chose not to say.

  “Gregory!” Amelia called him from the porch. Did she fear he might not return?

  “Well, I’ll leave you to your path then. It’s not as if you wouldn’t know the way.”

  Raven stopped and turned to him. She didn’t know if she’d be able to speak. The words she had travelled all this way to tell him were still hiding on her tongue, wanting to break free from the prison of her lips. Instead she said, “Thank you.”

  His half-smile reminded her of the hundred times they’d said good-bye in the past. “I won’t let her talk me into moving. I will always be here for you.”

  His reassurance washed over her with more relief t
han she’d have thought possible. She smiled and said, “Then I’ll be back.”

  “And maybe you won’t be half-dead, next time.”

  “Maybe.” She turned on her heel and withheld the urge to run again. The boy and dog waited at the bramble of the rose bush. She met them there, sneaking a peek back. Her doctor hadn’t left his spot yet, even with his wife calling his name again.

  “Which way do we go?” the boy said breathlessly. His face had gained some color after nearly a week of doing farm chores with the doctor’s wife.

  Raven glanced back at Gregory and watched him turn away. Happy that she could make the decision without him watching, she looked both ways down the field rows. The late afternoon sun had dipped below the boundary of trees. They had a few hours of diminishing daylight left.

  The Duke’s Guard would still be looking for them along the road, so they’d have to take the wooded paths. Raven decided to go to the one place they wouldn’t be searching. She turned right and started back toward New Haven.

  Jack Grant hated his latest mission. There could hardly be a viler town in all of the duke’s reign than Channing. The cobblestones of the street were slippery, damp, and uneven, making the walk difficult. It seemed the seaside city had a perpetual layer of fog. Accosted by the smell of refuse and human waste, Jack held a sleeve to his mouth with left hand, while his right rested on the butt of his pistol. Rupert and Colton held the same stance as they made way for the tavern.

  Over the past week of searching, Jack had mulled over the fact that the woman, a trained assassin, spared their lives rather than taking them. The woman had moved faster than any of the guard, and she’d been injured. Jack shook his head as he thought about the grotesque shard of brass protruding from her leg as she’d first run into the woods.

  His conscience could not agree with what he was about to do. But orders were orders. And as captain of the guard, Jack always followed them to the letter.