Arrows of Revolution (Kingmakers Book 3)

by Honor Raconteur

  Ashlynn had her head supported in one hand, looking beyond tired, although a smile wrinkled up her eyes. “It’s astonishing what your word alone has brought about, Hendy. When you said you had the support of the people, you meant it.”

  “I did,” Hendrix responded mildly, “but what’s with the Hendy nickname?”

  “You’re family now,” Edvard observed as if this were perfectly obvious and he could not begin to understand why Hendrix was even questioning this. “Of course we won’t call you properly by name all of the time.”

  “Take it as a sign of affection, lad,” Broden advised.

  Hendrix tried to look unaffected by this but he was clearly pleased to be on a more friendly footing with everyone. “Does that mean I’m now accepted as Bria’s fiancé?”

  “Did I have a choice in the matter?” Edvard grumbled.

  Ashlynn laughed outright. “No. It amuses me that you thought you did.”

  Edvard gestured to her with a “as she said” expression and did not dare say another word on the subject. “You told me that you had sent out several messages, but how many?”

  “Every single town on our route south. I’m not sure how many troops we can anticipate,” Hendrix added honestly. “I’ve been pleasantly surprised so far. I expected roughly half of what I got today. If this trend continues we’ll have quite the force indeed by the time we reach Kremser.”

  “I certainly hope so.” Broden sent several prayers up to the heavens to that effect. “I know you said that the journey will take six days from here, so does that mean—”

  From Ashlynn’s neck there came a muted sound. She immediately fished the caller necklace out and said, “Repeat that.”

  “Ashlynn,” Troi’s voice rang clear and very anxious, “I need to speak with either King Edvard or Prince Hendrix. Preferably both.”

  “We’re here, Troi,” Hendrix responded, brow furrowed. “You sound worried, what’s gone wrong? Are the tactics not working?”

  “No, Your Highness, they’re working rather well. Our mercenaries are very good at their jobs and the Iyshian army is having an incredibly hard time going past the main street. That’s going well.” Troi took an audible breath before blurting out, “Miss Bria is missing.”

  Hendrix froze, staring at the caller as if doubting his own ears. Broden had a sinking pit yawning open at the bottom of his stomach and knew that everyone at the table felt the same. Bria missing? AGAIN?

  “What do you mean my sister is missing?” Edvard asked in a dangerous tone of voice that promised racks and thumb screws if the answer was not to his liking.

  “Sire,” Troi, apparently realizing his king was Not Happy, had just the tiniest trace of raw panic in his voice, “we’ve searched all of Dahl, Estole, and Ganforth. Twice. Bria is nowhere to be seen. I’ve even had the wizards do a magical tracing spell of some sort and they still couldn’t locate her. They said that even if she were dead, it would have worked. We are convinced that she has been kidnapped and taken out of this area.”

  Edvard’s eyes demanded an explanation from Ashlynn and she confirmed with a nod. “The searching spells have a certain radius to them. Get out of that radius, they’re useless.”

  “We will of course do our best to track her down, but I have a suspicion that you’ll see her before we do.”

  Perhaps Broden had spent far too much time around evil men, as he knew what Troi meant before anyone else did. “Ye mean ye think yon prince snapped her up when our backs were turned to use the lass as leverage.”

  Hendrix let his head thump to the table, shaking it back and forth in denial.

  Edvard growled out several choice curses. “That is exactly something one of Zelman’s whelps would do. After all, he’s done it before.”

  “It did no’ work out that well for him last time,” Broden observed with a toothy grin.

  “But it might work better this time,” Ashlynn observed. “It’ll take us time to figure out exactly where he’s going and how he’s getting there. We’re assuming he’s heading straight for Kremser, like we are, but we might be wrong. Maddox might have some other plan up his sleeve.”

  “Or it’s not Maddox at all, but some other agent of Zelman’s acting on his king’s orders.” Edvard rubbed at his eyes with the pads of his fingers. “I’m going to kill that man when I finally lay my hands on him.”

  If he could beat Broden to it. The archer had several arrows all with the king’s name on them. Broden had a low tolerance for evil men to begin with and Zelman had exceeded the limits of his patience eons ago.

  “Troi, try to verify what happened,” Ashlynn ordered. “We’ll do our best to keep a lookout for her as we travel. Maybe we’ll get lucky. Have you notified Zigzag about all of this?”

  “I’m preparing a message to him right now. If nothing else, maybe one of his contacts knows something.”

  “Right now, communicating with every person we can think of is our best course of action. We can never anticipate what someone else knows.” Ashlynn put an arm around Edvard’s shoulders, hugging him to her and offering some comfort. She, too, was worried about her sister, but Broden recognized that Hendrix was taking this the hardest. Edvard was not doing much better, either, as he regarded the safety of his family as his main priority and having Bria taken—again—left a bitter taste of failure in his mouth.

  “That is very true, Miss Ashlynn. I’m spreading the word far and wide. Also, Sire, I’m offering an unspecified reward for any information regarding her whereabouts.”

  “Good thinking, Troi, reward whatever you think appropriate.” Edvard regarded the caller in Ashlynn’s hands with a sort of grim resignation. “I think we’re reaching the limits of this booster of Ashlynn’s.”

  “You’re right,” she informed him bluntly. “Troi, you know which route we’re taking? Send carrier pigeons to your contacts along that route to keep us abreast of any progress.”

  “I will. Sire, our profound apologies, we have failed you.”

  “Find my sister. Figure out how she was taken. Apologize later.”

  “Yes, Sire.” With that, the call ended.

  Edvard threw his head back, taking in a deep breath. Broden was not sure if the man was fighting back tears or temper. Either way, he gave him a few minutes to gather himself back together. “Hendy. We’ll get her back.”

  “And we’ll murder the man that’s taken her,” Hendrix promised with a feral smile.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Wait, too many things are happening at once,” Ash protested, expression pained. “Slow down, Mrs. Pennington. Start from the beginning.”

  “We have a spy in the innermost palace. He was the commander of the city guard until the new laws went into place. Since he is the second son of a second marriage, he lost his position and has played the part of a drunk ever since,” she explained with forced patience.

  Riana stopped reviewing the latest message that had come in via carrier pigeon and looked up sharply. A drunk lord? “Lord Halloway by any chance?”

  Pennington gave her a sharp nod. “The same, Miss Saira.”

  “This means something to you?” Ash asked her.

  “It does. I’ve met the man several times.” Woelfel had said that he would explain about Halloway, but with one thing or another, had forgotten to do so. Riana knew nothing more than that the man was an ally of theirs, only not openly so. “What about him, Mrs. Pennington?”

  “He heard of Prince Hendrix’s army coming this direction and sent a frantic message to Master Cyr this morning saying that we were to not, under any circumstances, allow the army into the city.”

  Riana and Ash shared alarmed looks. That didn’t sound good at all.

  Ash pressed, “There was no explanation as to why?”

  Shaking her head, Mrs. Pennington explained, “He has a very limited way of communicating with us. Only four people even know of his role aside from me—Master Troi, Master Cyr, and now you. He has a direct control over the city guard, and
his position is too sensitive to jeopardize. We’ve only ever received three messages from him prior to this for that reason.”

  “This doesn’t sound good at all.” Ash rubbed his hands together in a round motion, thinking hard. “If that was all he could say then it must be very dangerous indeed. Woelfel knows this man better than we do, what does he think?”

  “He is trying to enter the palace directly and find a better way of getting information from him without cracking his cover,” Mrs. Pennington explained. “But he doesn’t have very good odds of doing so. Prince Hendrix’s advance toward the city is a badly kept secret at this point. Zelman will declare martial law at any moment and when he does so, the palace grounds will be locked down tightly. Only military personnel will be allowed in and out.”

  This just got better and better. Riana tried to sit on her frustration, as she needed to think coolly and logically. “Is there any way for us to communicate with Hendrix and Edvard that entering the city is dangerous?”

  “We’re not even sure which town he’s in,” Ash responded, equally frustrated. “And not every town has the carrier pigeons set up. The best we can do is inform Troi, have Troi send a message to him, and hope that message catches up with him.”

  That sounded very cumbersome and not at all likely to happen. Riana fidgeted in her chair. “Ashlynn is probably too far out to reach now?”

  “Yes.” Ash reached out, squeezing her hand, trying to settle them both down. Their emotions kept ricocheting and setting the other off. It was one of the downsides of such a close bond. “I’ll have to wait until she’s near the city. At the very least near the city gates. This will be equally hard to do. If it’s too noisy, and it likely will be with them battering at the gates, she might not hear me calling to her. Our best bet is to try both.”

  Riana wasn’t about to do one or the other. Good information became bad intelligence when delivered too late. That she had learned for herself in this business of spies and kings. “Is there nothing else we can—”

  From the back of the house rang a distinct chime of bells, a signal that everyone knew well. It signaled a carrier pigeon returning.

  In unison, all three of them popped up from their chairs and rushed toward the back coop. Mrs. Pennington, old but spry, beat them there by a hair’s breadth and scooped the pigeon out. He had a backpack on instead of a leg holster—a sign that the message he carried was lengthier than a sentence. She snapped the letter out of its pouch, setting the bird back inside, and unrolled the message.

  Then her face gained a very grim cast.

  “I’m not going to like this,” Ash stated in a calm tone that belied the turmoil of emotions racing through him. “Say it.”

  “Miss Bria has been kidnapped.”

  Riana felt an odd distancing for a moment, as if she were in a surreal dream instead of standing in a potential war zone. Any second she would wake up and this whole nightmare would be over.

  Ash put an arm around her shoulders, hugging her to him hard, snapping her out of that odd feeling and grounding her. She leaned into him as she desperately needed the grounding.

  “How?” Ash asked in that too-calm voice. “When?”

  “Three days ago and they’re not quite sure how,” Mrs. Pennington answered, her eyes scanning the note for a second time. “Troi is requesting we send out inquiries to everyone we know. He has no idea who has her or where she’s been taken. All he’s sure of is that she is not in Estole.”

  Riana took in a deep breath. This was no time to fall apart, as much as she would like to do so. She had friends in imminent danger that needed help. “Ash, draft a note to Troi explaining what we know. We need to get that off first. Then you and I will send out messages to everyone and try to find Bria. Mrs. Pennington, we’re counting on your help in this.”

  “Of course,” the matron assured them gently. “We’ll all try to help. Perhaps—”

  This time they were interrupted by the distinct sound of the side door slamming open and closed, accompanied by the quick trot of footsteps. “Where is everyone?” Woelfel called out.

  “Back here, Master Cyr!” Pennington stepped just outside of the coop and into the hallway.

  Woelfel spoke loudly before he was even into the room. “They’d already declared martial law before I could even make it to the palace. I couldn’t get in to speak with him, and even basic messages were not allowed. We absolutely have to find out what he meant, otherwise our army is going to be slaughtered.” Finally reaching the room, he stopped dead and eyed the message in her hands. “More news?”

  “Miss Bria has been taken,” Mrs. Pennington informed him with a grimace.

  “WHAT?!” Woelfel demanded in dismay. “When, how?”

  Riana still reeled with this latest news. Was everyone she knew and loved going to be in severe danger all at the same time? Was there no way to protect any of them? “Do we know when our army is going to arrive?”

  Woelfel spread his hands in a helpless shrug. “It can take them anywhere between nine to fourteen days, depending on how many stops they make and how long it takes for people to actually respond to their call. We literally have to wait for someone to report a sighting or for the front gates to crash in before we know they’re here.”

  “Never have I been so frustrated by our callers’ limitations until now,” Ash growled.

  Mrs. Pennington clapped her hands, pulling them out of their complaints. “Focus on what you can do. We have very limited time to work in.”

  Riana took in a deep breath and made herself calm down. “You two focus on trying to find Bria. I’ll do what I can to contact the army.”

  Due to all of the time she was spending around royals these days, Riana was able to secure an audience with Queen Rosalind without much effort. It took four hours to actually make the appointment and it was right before formal dinner that she could meet with her.

  Queen Rosalind had her come into her morning room, a very feminine space obviously catered to the queen’s tastes. It was light and airy, all of the furniture in whites, pale greens, and light oak. Even in the evening hours, it spoke somehow of daylight. It was a very relaxing space, which Riana appreciated, as her nerves felt stretched to the breaking point.

  Somewhat to her surprise, Savir was there as well, relaxing in a window bench with a book. He rose when she entered, giving her a slight bow. “Lady Saira.”

  “Your Highness,” she greeted in return. Facing the queen, she gave a deeper curtsey. “Your Majesty. Thank you for letting me meet with you on such short notice.”

  “Of course, that’s no trouble at all. Your note seemed quite urgent. Come,” the queen invited, waving to a seat next to her on the couch. “Do sit down. Tell me whatever is the matter.”

  Riana promptly took the seat and tried to angle herself so that she could see both of them at once. “Your Majesty, I just received a very worrisome note from home. It was so urgently sent that I actually received it via carrier pigeon, which is a rare thing indeed. Your Majesty, Bria Knolton is missing.”

  Queen Rosalind’s mouth formed an ‘O’ but it did not truly speak of surprise. For a moment, irritation flickered across Savir’s face before he’d covered it with a frown. Mother and son glanced at each other, their eyes speaking volumes.

  Riana knew she was right to call for this face-to-face meeting in that moment. She’d needed to see these reactions. These two definitely knew something.

  Rosalind picked up Riana’s hand and clasped it, offering comfort. “I understand your worry. Unfortunately I’ve heard nothing about the young lady’s whereabouts.”

  “I see.” Riana looked down, trying to make sure that her own expression gave nothing away.

  “I will of course send out inquiries. Savir, you’ll ask Greer Dunlap to do the same?”

  “Of course, Mother.”

  “We’ll do our best to find her,” Queen Rosalind assured her gently. “I know she’s a friend of yours, and of course she’s very dear to Hendrix. I woul
d hate for anything to happen to her.”

  Oh yes. These two knew something. And with the way they were dancing about the subject, they weren’t about to disclose it. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I knew that meeting with you would be my best course of action.”

  Rosalind smiled at her, expression gentle. “I’m glad you did, child.”

  Yes, so was she.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Hendrix called a meeting when they stopped for the night. People were setting up tents, gathering wood for cookfires and the like, generally making camp. Hendrix pulled aside the core people, letting everyone else do the camp chores, and sat them down on a fallen pair of logs just off the road.

  “Before light fails us, I need to get a few things across. As I’m sure you’ve all realized, trying to take Kremser with a ragtag army is doomed to failure, no matter how big it is.”

  Broden had been wondering if anyone else realized that, or if they were riding on wishful thinking. “Aye, lad, we all ken that, I think. Ye’ve got a notion of what to do about it?”

  “A few ideas. I want to run them all past you in order to see how much we can implement before we reach the city. I estimate we have another four days, which doesn’t give us much time at all. I just hope it’s enough.” Hendrix angled himself so that he could speak to the whole group better. “Let me start off by saying this: the enemy likely knows we’re coming and they likely have a very dirty tactic planned for when we do arrive.”

  “I think we all knew that,” Edvard assured him. “You know what it is?”

  “No, but I know what I would do if I was in their shoes. First, I’d give token resistance at the walls, to allow us through.”

  “Wait, what?” Ashlynn protested. “Shouldn’t they be trying to keep us out?”

  Hendrix shook his head. “They have a skeleton crew in the city right now. Zigzag confirmed that. It would be very difficult to keep us out of the city entirely for any real stretch of time. While it’s well protected, they’re not set up for a siege, either. Too many mouths to feed and the treasury, as we know, is depleted. Their best bet oddly enough is to let us in.”