Seven Ways to Kill a King

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Seven Ways to Kill a King Page 16

by Melissa Wright


  Cass hauled her into his arms and ran from the gates just as the portcullis’s chains began to rattle.

  He bolted from the castle with kingsmen coming from every direction in the half light. There were other figures, too—men and women who stood in watch, those who would have heard the bells and come from curiosity, and those who held weapons and wore fighting gear. The last ones would be loyal to the dead queen and willing to risk life and limb in any fight with the king’s men.

  Cass ran forward, turning down the first alleyway that came in an attempt to get Miri someplace safe. But the manor was too near the castle, and the grounds would already be swarming with kingsmen. He had no place to hide her, no place that was safe. Terric and the others were fighting kingsmen, dying in the name of the queen. He glanced down at Miri and felt a stab of fear run through him.

  Clumps of blood covered the side of her head. A chunk of torn hair was pasted to it in a tangled mess over her cheek. Blood caked her chest and soaked the bodice of her dress. Cass swallowed whatever was rising in his throat, pressing on with very little in the way of breath. He had no idea how far he’d carried her or how much farther he could go. Wary faces peered through windows. All of Ironwood had been awoken by the bells and the chaos behind him. It would only take one to do them in, one loyal to the king to call out to the guards.

  Cass raised his head to the sky, breathing in through his nose and praying for strength. There was only one place to take her to give him a chance to keep Miri alive and scrape out of the mess. He shifted her in his arms and walked on with the last bit of strength he had left.

  Cass burst through the door into Ginger and Hugh’s kitchen. They stared blankly up at him for a moment as they sat at their table with mugs of morning tea. Cass’s arms trembled beneath the weight of Miri’s form, and his legs were ready to give out, but he was prepared to grip his dagger if need be. He hoped he didn’t have to.

  Ginger shoved to her feet, hand going to her mouth as her eyes trailed over Miri. Hugh’s chair slid back with a noisy growl, but neither approached. They stared at Cass.

  “I need your help,” he said. “It will put your lives in danger.” He did not say the rest—that he would be forced to kill them if they didn’t agree. He would kill them to protect the daughter of the Lion Queen. The idea made him half sick. He hoped he had chosen well and wasn’t wrong about them.

  Ginger moved forward without even glancing at Hugh, her hands outstretched to take Miri from Cass.

  “Understand…” Cass said before she reached them. “Understand that she… she has killed the king.”

  Ginger stopped, blinking up at Cass, but Hugh still hadn’t moved. Housing someone who’d murdered a king meant not simply death. It would be torture, disgrace, dishonor, and punishment to anyone they knew.

  “The bells,” Ginger said. Her eyes fell to Miri. “Is it true?”

  Cass realized that she was not merely asking about the killing of the king. Ginger had, somehow, suspected Miri was more than simply the trader girl Bean.

  “Myrina,” he said, voice broken by an emotion he was too exhausted to name.

  Ginger swayed and moved forward a step to keep from falling to her knees. “Myrina,” she whispered, her eyes going damp at the sight of the poor, broken princess. “Hugh, leave if you need to, but I will stay.”

  Hugh crossed his arms. “I’ll not leave a daughter of the queen. What do you take me for, woman?”

  “Then bar the door.” To Cass, Ginger ordered, “Take her to the bed. I’ll bring water and supplies.”

  Cass collapsed into a chair beside the narrow mattress where he’d lain Miri, his arms so shaky and limp that he wasn’t certain he would be able to draw a sword.

  Hugh was suddenly beside him, flask in hand. “Drink it,” he said.

  Cass took one quick draw, coughed, and wiped an arm over his brow.

  Hugh grimaced at the blood that covered Cass’s arms and face. “I’ve got the shutters drawn, and no one expects us to be about today, since we’ve just returned from the road. I cannot promise they’ll not send scouts, searching the houses for sign of the girl.” He gave Cass an appraising look. “Did you carry her all the way from the castle?”

  Cass nodded but said nothing else. Hugh was right. They needed out of Ironwood before the queen ordered Edwin’s murderer found. But it was not the kingsmen who worried him. It was the sorcerers—Miri was covered in blood.

  “Do you have a plan?” Hugh asked.

  Cass stared up at him. “I have… I had friends.” He didn’t know if they were still alive.

  Hugh nodded. “Aye. I’ll help you find them. If not, we’ll get you free.”

  Cass’s aching hands curled into fists as feeling began to return to them. He’d just asked Hugh and Ginger to give up everything—their home and life and everyone they knew.

  “Out!” Ginger ordered Hugh. “This wretched corset is coming off, and you’ve no business in the presence of a half-dressed princess.”

  Hugh frowned at her but turned and did as she ordered.

  Cass started to get up, but Ginger shoved her supplies into his arms. “Not you. You’re helping.”

  Cass stared as Ginger wiped the blood from Miri’s wounds. They’d cut the dress from her body. Half the gown had already been torn to shreds and was thick with blood. But it had not all been hers. She lay beneath two thin blankets in nothing but her underclothes, the thin shirt, which—inside of her hem—held the trinket Miri’s mother had given her. It was the last possession of the dead queen, the only thing left aside from two daughters, who were captive to their fates.

  “It’s not deep,” Ginger murmured of the cut beneath Miri’s neck, “but she’s lost a good deal of blood.” She held a hand out to Cass. “I’m ready for the needle. I’ll stitch this one up, check her over once more, then heat another batch of water so you can clean up yourself.” As Cass handed Ginger the supplies, she glanced back at him. “Do you have fresh clothes?”

  He shook his head. All of their possessions, the horses and supplies, were at the manor near the castle.

  “Light,” Ginger said.

  The sunlight from the window was not enough, so Cass leaned forward with the lantern.

  Ginger added, “We’ll get Sarah to find you something. She’s a good girl. Smart.”

  Cass opened his mouth to protest, but he’d already put the girl in danger by her association with Ginger and Hugh.

  “She’ll come with us,” Ginger said.

  The thread tugged at Miri’s skin, and Cass had to look away. He’d seen a thousand battle wounds and injuries, but none had unsettled him as much as watching Miri tumble from the side of the tower. Not even when the sorcerers had taken Stormskeep, but Cass had only been a child then. He hadn’t realized what that day would cost him and everyone in the realm.

  “The girl’s mother too,” Ginger said. “We’ll take you north and, once we’re in the mountains, head east. Hugh has family at Blackstone. We’ve an ample supply of jewels.”

  “You will be repaid,” Cass promised.

  Ginger cut him a sharp look. “Don’t insult our generosity. This is our duty as much as it is yours.”

  Cass was bloodsworn to the queen. It was no one’s duty more than his.

  Ginger rolled her eyes heavenward before she returned her focus to her work. “Men are fools as often as they aren’t.”

  Cass gave her no answer, because in that exasperated look, he saw and heard the fondness with which she complained of Hugh, and something else, something Cass did not want to tear open with Miri so fragile. Ginger had seen Cass and Miri close, acting as husband and wife. Ginger had known Miri was the daughter of the Lion Queen.

  “Woman,” Hugh said from the doorway, “I’ve heated the water myself. We foolish men have tasks of our own. The lad can’t be your nursemaid all day.”

  Ginger snorted but kept at her work, her long fingers dark against Miri’s too-pale skin.

  Hugh gave Cass an expectant glower,
and Cass reluctantly set the lantern near Ginger’s work.

  Chapter 24

  Cass gripped his brother-in-arms with all the strength in his body. Terric had lived. He’d saved Miri and saved them all.

  “Easy, brother,” Terric said. “We aren’t safe yet.”

  Cass drew back to look at him, grateful to the point of pain. The queensguard and those faithful to the dead queen had misled the kingsmen and fought on her behalf. They hadn’t known the assassin was Myrina, princess and daughter of the Lion Queen. They had only known they had a chance to rise up, and they had taken it with eager courage.

  “We need to leave by nightfall. Will she be ready?”

  Hugh spoke from behind Cass. “Wife says she’ll be fine. Beaten and sore to be sure but not badly injured.”

  Terric’s gaze slid over Cass’s shoulder. “She needs to be certain. This will be no easy trip.”

  “I know what’s at stake,” Hugh answered. He had, after all, risked his own neck. “And she knows her business around wounds. If she says it, I stake my life on it being the truth.”

  Terric nodded. “Then we leave tonight.” He handed Cass a leather pouch. “Your horses will be ready, and we’ve managed to retrieve the things from your rooms. There is no evidence either of you was there.”

  The only risk would be hearsay, and there would be more than enough of that floating about after the murder of a king. Cass tugged at the collar of his new jacket. Sarah’s estimation of his size was only a bit small. She’d brought Miri loose, soft, and layered gowns made of nothing that would irritate her wounds. Cass would ride with her, and Hugh and Ginger would be at their sides with a small party of loyal guards, while Terric and others misdirected the kingsmen.

  Bells rang through the street outside their meeting place, and Cass startled at the sound.

  Terric gave him a wry smile. “It’s not an alarm.” At Cass’s expression, Terric explained, “It’s a call to assemble. The queen’s first order of business was to seek vengeance on the woman she’s accused of being the source of the plot. The king’s mistress is being hanged for treason.”

  “What of the sorcerers?” Cass asked.

  “They have been busy examining the scene. Word is harder to find on the decisions of those…” Terric’s gaze flicked to Hugh then back to Cass. “We’ve no idea what they’re planning. I don’t expect we will anytime soon.”

  “All the more reason to move right away.” Hugh crossed his arms, glancing toward the window, where passersby headed toward the castle to watch a woman hang.

  Terric took hold of Cass with a firm grip on his forearm. “I will see you again. By the grace of the maiden.”

  Cass locked his fingers over Terric’s forearm and squeezed back. “By the will of the gods.”

  Miri jolted awake with the feeling she’d fallen. But she was not plummeting helplessly from a tower window. She was in Cass’s arms. His hair was cut short, and his neck was covered in a high-collared jacket embroidered with fine leaves. She breathed in relief then winced at the stab of pain in her ribs.

  “You’re safe,” Cass whispered. “But we’ve got to move. Ginger is going to give you something for the pain.”

  Her mind was foggy, but Cass was warm and his tone reassuring. She wanted to fall back to sleep, but they wouldn’t stop jostling her. She felt a warm palm slide beneath her neck, tilting her head upward. Her jaw ached, and her throat was dry.

  “Here, my Myrina,” someone said softly. “Drink this.”

  Miri drank then felt her brow draw together before her heartbeat took to racing in an unsteady gallop. Her eyes went wide, but she had to blink to clear her vision to see Cass’s frown as he looked at the woman before them. Ginger. Ginger had called her Myrina.

  “Bean,” Ginger snapped, more to Cass than anyone else.

  Then her fingers slid carefully over Miri’s hair, and Miri felt herself pulling involuntarily away from consciousness.

  She woke again near horses, twice more being jarred and jolted in the darkness, and though she couldn’t quite draw it from her memory, each time Ginger fed her the sweet, oily drink, she felt as if she’d done it half a dozen times before.

  It was daylight when she finally refused the concoction. Her tongue was thick, and her eyes matted with sleep. Her head felt as if she’d been trampled by horses, and her body throbbed in so many places that she couldn’t sort where each injury was. “Water,” she croaked.

  A small hand offered her a waterskin, and Miri took it gratefully, unsure where she’d seen the girl before or why there was a girl at all. A warm body rested beneath her, and Miri realized it was Cass.

  The girl held a finger to her lips in a gesture to stay quiet. A figure behind the girl—who was Sarah, Miri suddenly remembered—leaned closer, and Miri blinked to clear her vision.

  Ginger whispered, “It’s the first he’s slept at all. Better to let him.”

  “Where…” Miri gulped. Her neck felt too big, stiff, and raw. She raised a hand to touch it and found a bandage at the base of her jaw.

  Ginger waved her unspoken questions away. “The swelling will go down soon. You’ve taken quite a few hits, I’m afraid, and the jaw remains puffy and bruised, but the stitching went well. Shouldn’t have too much trouble with it after a few days.” She offered Miri a piece of bread, but Miri couldn’t quite manage to shake her head to refuse. “We’re nearly two days north of Ironwood, on our way to Ravensgate.” The girl glanced up at her, and Ginger amended, “You’re on your way to Ravensgate. We’ll be headed to Blackstone, to be sure.”

  Miri tried not to remember what had happened and how the agonies in her body had been delivered, but she couldn’t look away from the memories—falling from the garderobe roof, slamming into the stone wall, landing on the edge of the battlement and being tossed onto the rampart, the shouting kingsmen, the swords and arrows, men taking arms against their own and fighters who had not been their own at all, and the men who had shouted, “For the queen.”

  Miri’s head ached, and her stomach felt sour and hollow.

  She could see Edwin’s eyes when he’d recognized her, the change in his expression, and the blood that had spilled from his wounds.

  Miri retched onto the ground, covering her blankets as well, and the girl leapt back as Ginger moved to steady Miri.

  “Easy,” she cooed. “Best not to strain.”

  Miri coughed up the water she’d drunk, eyes running and arms shaking as they held her weight. Cass was suddenly behind her. His hands shored up her shoulders, and his words full of nothing but concern as the shivering started.

  “It’s fine,” Ginger said. “To be expected. Hold her against you until the chill passes. Sarah and I will tend to the wash.” Ginger patted Cass’s hand over Miri’s shoulder before gathering the blankets in a bundle and stepping over two more sleeping forms.

  Sarah carefully laid another blanket over Miri’s legs, and Cass drew her back to him, settling her into the warmth of his embrace. His arms were bare, and sweat beaded at his temple. It was summer, daylight, and Miri shook as if she’d been doused in cold water.

  A large tabby cat strode onto Miri’s blanket then turned in a circle before settling against her leg.

  Cass’s sigh brushed Miri’s neck. “Beast has been doing that for days. You’ve apparently won her approval.”

  Miri coughed. “Perhaps she’s waiting for my death.”

  Cass went very still behind her, and Miri regretted the words. She couldn’t continue, though, because another round of shivering racked her frame. She pressed harder into Cass, drawing his arms tight around her. And soon, despite the horrors behind her eyelids, Miri fell once more to sleep.

  Miri had lost count of the days on their journey to Ravensgate, but she knew her plans were well behind schedule. At first, she couldn’t bring herself to care, but Ginger had been right, and after the first week, Miri had felt more like herself. Her bruises were mottled in greens and purples, but the tenderness of each of her wounds
had faded. She no longer needed tonics and wore only a small bandage coated in salve over the cut at her jaw.

  The worst was not that she’d lost precious days but that in three attempts, she’d been caught twice. Miri was no fool. The attempts would only get harder as she reached kings who were more secure. It was too soon to tell what good she had done, but she’d heard the others talking about the men and women who had risen in their defense at Ironwood. Many had lost their lives, but many more had died at the hands of the kings and their sorcerers in the past. It was their last chance to set right the realm.

  The king at Kirkwall would be partaking of his tonics even as they rode for the fourth king, and if she had planned properly, he would die in nearly a month. By the festival of moons, he would be either too ill or too dead to command his army. A few men of the queensguard Miri did not recognize rode with their party, and Cass had assured her that the way had grown rocky enough that their trail would be impossible to follow.

  They no longer slept within the tent they’d been gifted by Hugh and Ginger, because Cass was queensguard, and until they reached the next kingdom, there was no need to continue the ruse. They were not husband and wife, and the other men of the queensguard were more than aware of the rules. The others, straight shouldered and firm jawed, were a stark reminder of how the guard was meant to behave. Their eyes had not lingered on Miri, and their tongues had never been loose. But Cass had stayed constantly near her, helping her onto her horse and with every task she attempted on her own. Miri had let him, not because she couldn’t have managed to suffer through the tasks on her own, but because he had needed to do it. And she had wanted him near.

 

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