Siege: A Borrowed Magic Novella

by Shari Lambert

  “We don’t have time,” she said. “We need to get you to safety.”

  Daric shook his head. “I’m not leaving Adare or Justin.”

  “You must,” Maren insisted. “It’s you he wants.”

  Daric set his shoulders. “No.”

  “Then you’ll all die together,” Maren said. “And Adare’s in no condition to flee.”

  Daric banged a fist against the wall. “What do you want me to do? I can’t leave, protect only myself, knowing Kern is in the same place as my family.”

  Adare sat up. “And I won’t leave your side. No matter what.”

  Daric frowned, and then seemed to have an idea. “We’ll hide in the tunnels. They’re as safe as anywhere.”

  Maren found herself nodding. It was perfect.

  Until Adare began climbing out of bed. “Daric, you and I can hide in the tunnels, but not Justin. He needs to be somewhere different. Just in case.”

  In case Kern killed Daric and Adare.

  “Someone else can take him,” Adare said, surprisingly calm. “If something happens to us, he’ll still be alive.”

  Daric took her hands. “And who will you entrust him to?” he asked. “Who could take your place if necessary?”

  Silence descended like a hammer – until Maren pushed herself forward. “I’ll take him.”

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, Maren ducked into an open doorway and wrapped her trembling arms even tighter around the baby. Then she pulled her hood over her face and tugged her cloak around both of them. It only muffled his tiny cries.

  Something crashed behind her, and she heard a man howl in pain.

  She peeked into the hallway and then started running. She needed to keep the prince safe. Nothing else mattered. Not even her own suffocating pain at her father’s murder. She had to push it away. When the baby was safe, then she could fall apart.

  Footsteps pounded behind her, closer this time, and she veered down a side hallway and headed towards the main doors of the castle. Just a few more turns and she’d be—

  The wall to her left collapsed, the explosion so deafening her ears rang, and she struggled for balance.

  “I believe you have something I want.”

  Kern stepped from the rubble, and she shivered as the darkness around him enveloped her. Then he held out his hand.

  “Give me the child.”

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Kern should have gone after Daric. She pulled Justin closer, as if that could protect him. Either the baby was Kern’s target all along, or Daric was already dead.

  Her eyes darted three feet to her right, to where another hall led back the way she’d come. It was her only hope.

  She clutched the child tighter. And ran.

  Lights flashed around her, walls crumbled, and the ground shook, but she didn’t stop. Not even when a chunk of stone hit the back of her head and blood trickled down her neck. Not even when she didn’t think she could possibly take another step and her lungs burned for air. She concentrated only on running, looking for somewhere she could hide, somewhere they would be safe.

  Sliding around a corner, she peered down a staircase. It went to the dungeons. Not the hiding place she’d have chosen, but the only option she had left. She all but fell down the stairs, and into pitch blackness, clutching the baby tighter.

  Her fingertips slid along the wall, guiding her way, until she felt cold iron. A door. She pulled it open just as something evil and magical grazed her side. She stumbled into the room and tried to push the door shut. Kern shouted words she couldn’t understand, and then there was a flash of light and her shoulder exploded in pain. Her knees hit the ground as she tried to keep her own body between Kern and the baby. And then it was as if the castle disintegrated around her and the world went black.

  * * *

  Pain. That’s all Maren was conscious of. She wanted to sink back into the oblivion that had held her.

  Without thinking, she brought her hand up to rub her eyes. Pain shot through her shoulder and she heard herself scream.

  “Maren!” Someone pulled her hand back down and put something cold against her shoulder. “Maren? Are you all right?”

  Adare. Maren forced her eyes open, shutting them again immediately. The light hurt. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice hoarse. She tried her eyes again, this time squinting until they adjusted. Adare sat beside her, eyes red, looking older. Devastated.

  And then it all came rushing back. Kern. Her father. The baby.

  She let out a small sob. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” As if those pathetic words were enough.

  “It’s not your fault.” There was no light in Adare’s eyes. “You did everything you could. When we realized Kern wasn’t coming for us, we knew you were in trouble. But by the time we got there…Kern was gone.”

  “But why?” Maren cried. “He wanted revenge on Daric. Justin was innocent.”

  “And what better revenge than to murder Daric’s son.”

  Again, Maren felt nothing from her. As if all her emotion had been killed with her son.

  “Maybe now that he’s gotten that revenge, he’ll just leave us alone.” Adare didn’t sound as if she believed it.

  Maren didn’t either.

  “How long has it been? How am I alive?” Maren asked.

  “It’s been three days. And I think Kern thought you were dead,” Adare said. “I know we thought so when we first found you. The room was destroyed, as if something had exploded. You were lying underneath the door.”

  She’d hidden behind it. Until she’d passed out. She looked over and slowly pulled the bandage off her shoulder – and gasped.

  It was burned black, just like her father’s chest had been. Only that wasn’t all. Faint, glowing blue lines emanated from the center, spreading out over her skin like a web. Magic. Tears stung her eyes again. Her father was dead. Philip was gone. The prince…

  Adare put her arms around her. “We’ll get through this. We’ve lost people we love, but we have to go on.”

  Rage like she’d never felt burst inside her. “This is all Kern’s fault.” She tried to push herself up to sitting but sank back when the pain overwhelmed her efforts.

  “The healer tried,” Adare said, “but Kern’s magic is too powerful.”

  “You mean I have to live like this the rest of my life?”

  “The healer hoped the pain would eventually fade.”

  Maren closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillow. Even faded, this kind of pain was unbearable.

  Five

  Maren listened as Daric briefed the gathered nobles. He’d ordered them all here a week earlier. Many had come. Some hadn’t. Most out of fear – rumors had trickled in for the past few weeks that Kern was preparing for some sort of attack. Others stayed away in blatant disregard of Daric’s order.

  Someone asked about gathering mages again to defeat Kern, to which Daric raked a hand through his hair. There weren’t any – at least none powerful enough. And not in Tredare.

  The lines in Daric’s forehead were deeper than they’d been a month ago. They matched Maren’s own. The pain hadn’t really faded, but as many times as the healer tried, nothing worked. She’d resigned herself to the fact she’d live with pain for the rest of her life.

  It was like being stuck at the bottom of a well knowing no rescue was coming.

  “Have we heard anything from the neighboring kingdoms?” Daric asked.

  His only answer was silence.

  No one was coming to help them. They feared Kern too much. They knew what he was capable of – even if they didn’t know the whole truth. The prince’s death couldn’t be kept a secret, but the cause could. The kingdom was already paralyzed with fear. Letting them know Kern had already invaded the castle, had killed the baby, would only incite mass panic. Which Daric was struggling to prevent at all cost. All while finding a way to stop Kern. And dealing with the loss of his son.

  No wonder the lines in his
forehead were deeper.

  “We need to try again,” one of the Lords said. “Send someone to the other kings. Beg if we have to.”

  Daric shook his head. “And what if we haven’t heard anything because all the messengers we’ve sent are dead? Do we doom someone else to the same fate? Would any of you volunteer? Even with an army to protect you?”

  Silence again. Because everyone knew he was right. Kern had spies everywhere. Even without spies, it wouldn’t be hard to track down the contingents of soldiers Daric had sent to each of the neighboring kingdoms and kill them. They were too conspic—

  Maren jumped up from her chair and then gasped in pain and sank back down. She cursed, reminding herself – again – that she couldn’t move so quickly. When she looked up, the entire room was staring at her, and Daric knelt next to her chair.

  “Maren?” he asked, whispering so the others couldn’t hear. They thought she was recovering from an illness.

  “I have an idea.” She looked down at her hands. Daric wasn’t going to like it. “Send me to the other kingdoms.”

  Daric’s face went from shock, to disbelief, and finally settled on anger. “No.” He pushed himself back to his feet and walked away.

  “You have to send me, Your Majesty,” she said, loud enough the entire room could hear. “I’m just a girl. No one would suspect my mission. I can travel alone. Kern’s spies wouldn’t give me a second glance. And because I’m my father’s daughter, I know enough to actually help.”

  A few hopeful whispers echoed through the crowd.

  Daric glared at her. “No,” he said again, even more firmly this time.

  “But, Your Majesty,” one of the Lord’s said.

  “No!” Daric yelled. He stomped forward and grabbed her arm – the uninjured one – and leaned towards her, lowering his voice. “You aren’t going. That’s final. I’ve lost enough. You’ve lost enough.”

  “But it’s a good idea, Daric,” she insisted. “Someone needs to go.”

  “And it won’t be you. You’re only seventeen. Not to mention the last time I let you do something for me, you were almost killed.”

  “Who else will volunteer?” she demanded.

  Silence.

  “Exactly.” She reached for his hand. “Let me go. I’ll be safe. We’ll get answers. Maybe even help. Besides…” She took a deep breath and whispered so only he could hear. “It’s my only chance to find a mage powerful enough to heal my shoulder. I can’t live like this.”

  It was low, and she knew she shouldn’t have used it against him, but she needed him to let her go. Not just because they had to contact the other kings. Not just because she might find a competent healer. Those were things she could admit to Daric. But also because she might find Philip.

  Daric stared at her for a long time. The creases in his forehead seemed to get even deeper. Then he sighed, and it sounded as if he were surrendering.

  “All right.”

  And then suddenly the room was full of discussion. But Daric just sat there staring at her with eyes full of regret and sadness and…hope.

  * * *

  Sevela, Cralle, and Elacien. Three kingdoms visited. Three refusals of aid. And not just aid against Kern. Maren’s injury was as bad as ever. Possibly worse from all the travel, all the sleeping on hard beds – if there was a bed at all – and long days of riding. No matter what she did or how slowly she moved, her shoulder hurt.

  And she hadn’t found Philip. Not even a word. At first, she saw him everywhere – in the young man disappearing around a corner, in the back of a head in a tavern. She’d even chased after a few, calling Philip’s name, only to be met with confused glances of people who obviously thought she was crazy. Especially since her speech and clothing gave her away as being from Tredare – the kingdom threatened by Kern. The kingdom no one wanted to help.

  The kingdoms used to be friendly. Goods flowed freely. Court visits were common.

  Until Kern.

  And dark magic.

  She urged her horse forward over a slight rise in the road and then stopped as King Senred’s castle rose up before her. It was a castle of strength, with solid watchtowers and tall battlements, in a kingdom known for its military strength. Soldiers guarded the gate, standing in straight lines, ready to defend against anything.

  She would have come here first – were it not for its king.

  Senred was as guarded as his castle. And he had a long, complicated history with Tredare.

  Maren headed for the castle, stopping only when a caravan came up behind her and she moved aside to let them pass.

  A quick glance at the contents of the carts confirmed a number of suspicions she’d heard her father discuss with Daric. They’d long thought Senred and Lord Montagu, a Tredarean lord who held lands along Senred’s border, were illegally trading goods in order to avoid tariffs. And it wasn’t hard to understand why Montagu would go to such lengths. He’d questioned Daric’s ability as king from the very beginning. Not his right, his ability – and his age. It hadn’t gotten much attention because Daric effectively proved his ability when he trapped Kern in the tomb.

  Montagu was also one of the only Lords who refused to come when Daric had ordered them all to Delorme.

  She frowned. This may be even harder than she thought.

  When she reached the castle, she gave her name, presented the letter from Daric, and was escorted to the main hall.

  A few minutes later, King Senred bowed over her hand. “Lady Maren, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. Of course, I met your father on a number of occasions. I was so sorry to hear of his death.”

  He didn’t sound sorry, but now wasn’t the time to be impolite. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “And to what do I owe this honor?” Senred asked.

  “I came for two reasons. First, to beg your aid on behalf of Tredare. To help us find a way to defeat Kern.”

  His expression didn’t change at all, gave no hint to his thoughts. “And second?” he asked.

  “I came for aid personally.” She hesitated, wanting only to share what was absolutely necessary. “When Kern came to the castle…” She didn’t expand, didn’t say Kern had invaded the castle twice instead of the one time everyone knew about. “I got in his way, and he gave me this.” She pulled the sleeve of her dress down over her shoulder until his eyes widened in shock. “As you know, we don’t have mages of sufficient skill in Tredare to heal such an injury.”

  “I always thought Daric’s decision to shun magic was…unwise.”

  “So it would seem,” Maren said.

  Senred didn’t say anything for a long time. He just stared at her, arms crossed over his chest, as if he were making a decision.

  “Does it hurt?” he finally asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How badly?”

  “All the time,” she said. “Like someone’s twisting a knife in my shoulder. It’s bearable if I don’t move, but since that’s not usually an option…”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. Almost as if he were trying not to smile. “What can you offer me for my help?”

  “With Kern or my injury?”

  He shrugged. “Both.”

  “King Daric has authorized me to promise whatever you want.”

  “As I’m sure you know, the only thing Tredare has that I want are diamonds.” He paused. “And since I’m going to have those anyway, why should I risk fighting Kern.”

  It took a minute for the full implications of his words to sink in. Daric would never just give diamonds to Senred.

  But Montagu would.

  She looked at Senred with barely veiled hate. “So you refuse to help Tredare against Kern?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what happens when Tredare is destroyed and you’re the next target?”

  He laughed. “Oh, I won’t be the next target. In fact, I won’t be a target at all.”

  The same thing the other kings had told her. They were all certain Kern wouldn’t a
ttack them. But why? True, Kern wanted revenge on Daric, but men like Kern didn’t stop once they’d gotten a taste of power. Unless…

  She almost gasped aloud. The other kingdoms had made a deal with Kern. He wouldn’t attack them if they didn’t aid Tredare.

  Senred must have watched the emotions play across her face because he laughed again. “I see you understand.”

  “Perfectly.” She swept him a low bow. “I’m sorry to have taken up your time.” Then she turned and stepped towards the door.

  “And what about your injury?” he called.

  She didn’t turn. “What about it?”

  “What would you personally be willing to do for the use of my mages?”

  Her hands clenched. “I have nothing you want.”

  “I wouldn’t mind seeing you begging at my feet.”

  Now she spun around. “I will beg if that’s what you want, although I have no idea why it matters to you. I am no one. Nothing but a young woman trying to help her kingdom.”

  “You are your father’s daughter,” Senred said, voice full of hatred. “Lord Haven, always so condescending, always thinking he knew what was best. To have his daughter’s well-being in my hands, to see her beg at my feet…let’s just say it settles old scores.”

  Her first instinct was to slap him. So was her second. Both of those had to wait because if he could help her, even if it meant begging, she’d do it.

  She stepped forward. “I am begging. Please, help me. Let your mages at least try.”

  “You’re still standing.”

  She sank to her knees. “Please.”

  He looked down at her, an exultant look on his face. “No,” he sneered. “Now get out of my kingdom before I have you thrown out.”

  Rage engulfed her. She jumped to her feet and slapped him full across the face. After which, she found her arms pulled behind her back as Senred’s guards rushed to restrain her. They weren’t gentle, and she couldn’t help but cry out as her shoulder burned, paralyzing her with pain.