Liberate

by Krista D. Ball

  “None of us wanted this,” Bethany said. “We lost our mother. We weren’t prepared for any of this. So please, let us deal with it in our own time. For now, I am still me. I have not changed. I will not let some power-hungry maniac hurt my friends no matter what the consequences will be. I’m not going to let someone like Jud win.”

  “Of course not,” Amber said quietly. She smiled up at Bethany and said, “That is who you are.”

  “And who you will ever be,” Arrago said, pride swelling in his chest. “So let us get to work.”

  Chapter 3

  LORD RUTHERFORD LISTENED to the men gathered around his fireplace. They weren’t as rich nor as powerful as him, but they were good enough to be in his company. Like him, they were being starved by that upstart King Arrago and his elven whore.

  A footman interrupted the conference, annoying Rutherford. He needed to keep this gathering quiet for now, as his first attempt on the king’s life had failed. No one had sent troops after him, though. Nor had they killed him in his sleep. Perhaps they were unaware of his meddling. Or, perhaps Arrago was even weaker than he’d supposed.

  “Who is this from?” Rutherford demanded of the footman.

  “Message from a courier,” the footman said. He bowed as he offered the silver platter with the folder paper.

  Rutherford made an annoyed sound and took the letter. He broke the wax seal and skimmed the letter before summarizing it for his guests. “It appears that the king and queen are leaving Taftlin for a diplomatic meeting with the elves.”

  Sir Sanders harrumphed. “He’s already courting those pointed ear fools.”

  Sir William said, “This is an opportunity for us.”

  Rutherford nodded. “The king is weak, but his red-headed whore would know how to defend against any move against them. With her gone, we can begin.”

  “What do you say, Sir Liam?” Sir Sanders said.

  Sir Liam had the smallest land of any of them. “I’m not keen on committing my own number to this if all that will happen is my neck in a noose.”

  “Come now,” Rutherford said. “We seize the Winter Palace from within. We kill the young prince. And let the upstart howl to the elves for help. We will have the palace, the advisors, the treasury, all of it. Sell whatever of the royal properties we need to raise an army to stop whatever foreign force comes against us.”

  The men raised their pewter goblets and drank down their wine.

  “I shall rally my men within the week. We will be at the Winter Palace just as the king is pulling into Orchard Park. There will be no one there to stop us,” Rutherford said. “It’s time to rid Taftlin of these invaders and bring back the glory days of King Richard.”

  JOVAN RAN THROUGH THE back-alley streets. He jumped over barrels and baskets, dodged shit piles and hanging laundry, and still he ran. If he slowed, they’d have him. He hadn’t slept in over a day and his elven body screamed for rest, but he had to keep going. If Jud’s men found him, he’d need Bethany to rescue him, too. And that assumed Jud wouldn’t kill him outright, which was a possibility.

  He’d been staying at the Happy Harpy, but it was too unsafe to go back to the brothel. That would be the first place they’d look for him. Most likely, the entire place would be full of guards ready to take him down.

  Damn, he wished he learned whatever his power it was that Apexia had supposedly given him. He’d seen Bethany do extraordinary things, but he’d been avoiding so much as asking her what could happen. He hadn’t been ready for whatever changes it could mean for him. He’d been a damned fool.

  Jovan threw himself flat against a wall and hoped the cover of night would be enough to hide him. He thought about sinking into the wall, desperately whispering to a now dead Goddess to protect and hide him. Stupid that he did so, but he did it out of reflex that somehow calmed his nerves.

  Light from the lanterns flickered down the alley and Jovan closed his eyes. He didn’t want so much as his eyes reflecting light. Nothing to give himself away that he could help. He pressed against the wall and prayed they didn’t see him. Moments later, they shouted to move on and brought their light with them.

  Jovan didn’t move. He’d help develop the training methods for these fools after all. Another light flickered down the alley, closer to him now. But he was too flat, too still. This one was looking for movement. The lad behind turned and rushed back to the road, where he joined the others in checking the next alley.

  He gave them another few minutes before relaxing when he heard their voices farther off. Laziness on the part of the lag behind had let him avoid capture. He would’ve trained them better than that. He pulled his cloak about him and began to walk back up to the main road. He’d have to make his way out of this part of the city if he wanted to get some sleep tonight.

  Chapter 4

  WHEN BETHANY SET HER mind to something, only death could change it, and even that she considered an entirely negotiable concept. Servants rushed about the palace, arranging trunks and supplies. Lord Stanley huffed and puffed behind Bethany as she ordered about her newly-appointed maidservants.

  “I don’t need dresses. I need my armour packed. My silk undershirts, all of my linen tunics, both pairs of my good boots, do you hear me? Both pairs,” Bethany shouted. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed the maid’s terrified expression, and Stanley’s annoyed look, so she modified her tone. Somewhat. “Please.”

  The maid, still frozen in terror, just stood there holding two bejeweled dancing shoes. “Boots, Majesty Lady Bethany?”

  “Yes, boots. You know, boots? Oh, just go help Amber. I’ll do it myself.” The servant scampered off. Stanley scowled harder. “If you keep in whatever is eating at you, Lord Stanley, you’ll end up with an ulcer.”

  “You need to be kinder to the maids, Lady Bethany. They are not used to...someone of your needs.”

  She’d lectured Stanley three times already that morning for called her majesty and threatened to fire him if he kept it up. He begged her to release him from service before the stress and worry of looking after both her and Arrago would put him into the grave.

  “If Kiner can have a valet that he doesn’t want to murder, why can’t I have a maid who understands my need for boots,” Bethany said. She motioned for him to follow her into her bedchamber. There were two young maids in there she didn’t recognize, but she was still learning all of their names. “Shoo,” she said, waving a hand at them. They curtsied and scurried off.

  She looked inside the trunk and sighed; they had packed silk shoes. She inspected one of the frilly items. Silk fabric with a silk bow, with a silver buckle across the heel. She played with the buckle. It was fake. “Why is there a buckle on this? It doesn’t even work.”

  “Fashion, Lady Bethany. Fashion.”

  “I can’t run in this,” Bethany said.

  He gave the shoe a disdainful look. “At least it appears to fit.”

  She threw the shoes on her bed. “Can I have my maids back? The ones from the war. I liked them.”

  “Would you like me to arrange that?” Stanley asked in a calm, measured voice.

  “Yes,” Bethany said. She eyed his frown. “What?”

  “I will make it my highest priority to find the servants you had over a year ago during a war when you were living at a completely different castle,” Stanley said dryly.

  “Oh, Stanley, I missed you.”

  “My heart ached for your return,” he said. She couldn’t completely tell if he was serious or not.

  Bethany smirked. She pulled out one of the drawers from the dresser and deposited several silk undertunics into her trunk. Same with her silk liners for under her well-worn leather trousers. She hadn’t had much clothes by the end of the war, and she had even less after a year in Orchard Park sitting as the demoted Apprentice Knight Bethany. She’d arrived in Taftlin with almost nothing.

  “When I get back, I need to find a tailor.”

  “Truer words have never been spoken.”

 
She crossed her arms and glared at the bearded old man. “Out with it, Lord Stanley. Speak your mind. I can see your ulcer forming before my eyes. Tell me you aren’t here to change my mind about going. I’m not going to be swayed.”

  “Lady Bethany, the Gentle Goddess herself couldn’t change your mind,” Stanley said almost fondly. His demeanour changed and he asked, “Is it true? Has she really left us?”

  She looked up at the old man’s earnest, heartbroken face. She never understood the devotion many had to her mother. She always assumed she would have been a non-believer if circumstances were different. Nevertheless, if their pain was a tenth of hers, she understood some of their grief. “She’ll never be truly gone. She’s inside all of us.”

  “The king told you to say that, didn’t he?”

  A snort escaped her, and she chuckled. She went back to arranging her clothes into the trunk. “To be honest, it was Kiner. He’s really good for this stuff. But it’s true, I suppose. You can’t truly kill a goddess. She will always be with us, always one of us. We’re just her representatives now so that she can be at peace. I think. I don’t know. I’m still dealing with her loss.”

  “I would like to offer my condolences. You had to share her with the entire world, and now you cannot share that grief with us. I am sorry for your pain and the loss of your sister,” Stanley said.

  Bethany gave him a tight nod. She didn’t like to talk about her sister or her mother. First, the personal hurt was still too raw. But then, with regards to her mother, Stanley was right; she had shared Apexia with the world. Now what would happen? What would normal people do if they found out that they’d been abandoned by their goddess? Would they turn to despair or would they lash out? Would they be able to go on with their lives?

  “It’s important for us to keep this as quiet as possible, to be open only with that Apexia has given her grace to others. They must never know the circumstances, and I will never tell.”

  “So, you did lie to the elves?”

  “Yes,” Bethany said simply. “I did, and they knew it.”

  “And you believe this is why they took Lord Erem?”

  She nodded.

  Lord Stanley shook his head sadly. He motioned at a nearby chair, and Bethany nodded. He sat down with a long exhale. “Surely, you will not be able to keep this a secret forever.”

  “I know. For now, all that matters is keeping people safe. Getting everyone home. The world is so unstable now.”

  “Has it occurred to you that perhaps it has always been that way. You elves have always seemed to me to be people stuck in their ways. You and Allric stormed up here and took over, against what they wanted. You challenged them. You’re nothing but a rabble-rouser now.”

  Bethany closed the trunk latches. She really needed new clothes. “Should I have done it differently?”

  “I’m an old man.”

  “An old man whose wits are still quite sharp,” she said with a grin.

  “Consider that I was here, at the palace, for a good portion of the war. I saw Magi coming through the city and murdering anyone who stood in their way, all for Daniel’s army. I heard the reports of a rebellion and I saw Daniel foam at the mouth from anger. Once he’d left to go fight the king, I nearly died twice trying to get away from either Magi or the civil war. Then you people came and it all got so much worse.”

  “Sorry for that.”

  Stanley shrugged. “It would have been worse if Daniel stayed on the throne. There was no peaceful way to clean up Taftlin at that stage. Look at us now. We’re bankrupt. Our northern and eastern districts are rebelling against Arrago’s anti-slavery edicts. Rutherford, my friend since we were children, might be a traitor. People will starve this winter coming. Even if the crops are perfect, it won’t be enough. And Apexia’s mercy be with us if we have a peasant revolt.”

  “I have to get Erem, Stanley. Please, do not make me choose.”

  “I will not stop you, nor will I guilt you. But when you come back, Lady Bethany, you and the king need to focus on this nation. We are your home now, and we need you.”

  When Bethany didn’t answer, Stanley said, “If you stir up the elves, we won’t survive another invasion. We might not survive a revolt inside our own border. We cannot afford anything but peace right now. I do not even know if you are capable of peace, but you must try.”

  She nodded. “I hear what you are saying.”

  “Good. You didn’t just marry a man you loved, Lady Bethany. You married my king. He’s a good man, but he has no experience and no training. He was left a mess of a country that even the most experienced hand would struggle to keep in peace. Think on that. Now, think on your own experience.”

  “I don’t know how to run a country, Stanley.”

  “You can run an army.”

  “There were people who actually did all the work. I just yelled a lot.”

  “So you know who to appoint to do those tasks. If nothing else, you can re-establish a royal guard, one that is well-trained and not Daniel’s flunkies. You can shore up our defensives and walls, and you can oversee a small navy. That alone is better than anything Arrago will come up with.”

  “Don’t insult him, Stanley.”

  “I adore the king, Lady Bethany. I truly adore him if he were my own grandson. He’s a kind, gentle man who should be running a small estate and not a nation. But I cannot change what has happened. And we cannot have a soft king...”

  “He is not soft,” Bethany snapped. “You didn’t see him during the war, Stanley. He was not soft.”

  “Please. I heard the reports. He couldn’t even execute traitors.”

  “He killed Eli Greyfeather. Leave him be.”

  Stanley looked startled. “That was you. Even Daniel said so.”

  Bethany shook her head. “It was my idea, but Arrago did it. Arrago was the one who slit his throat. Arrago was also the one who fought Daniel.”

  “He had your help.”

  “I was barely conscious on the battlefield with a broken back. I wasn’t there to help him. Arrago lets you call him soft because it makes him feel like he’s never changed. I share his bed, Stanley. He’s changed. He has nightmares. He regrets some of the things he has done. Of course, he has not my level of regret or nightmares, but neither has he had the decades of fights under his belt. Don’t wish him to turn into me. Let him be kind and gentle. If you need a brute, let it be me. But don’t think for a moment that Arrago cannot be a brute if pushed.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “And the only person who is allowed to push him is me. Back off.”

  Stanley stared at her for a moment before one side of his mouth quirked upward. He inhaled deeply, held for a moment, and let it out, a pleased sound escaping him. “I told Ray that you weren’t a demon in our midst.”

  “I probably am.”

  “Will you help Taftlin? Daniel nearly destroyed us.”

  Bethany nodded. “I had already planned. Why did you think I asked Edmund to get started? While I’m away, have every map and deed sent to Edmund. By the end of the year, I want to know exactly how much gold and silver junk Daniel bought that I can melt down to buy arrows, spears, and leather. Work with Rayner to find out how much money we can spend. Then, I need a plan to purchase the wood we need for shafts and whatnot. And I need it across the country centralized at regional bases so that the financial benefits are more evenly spread out. I also need to know how much grain seed is stored at our various estates in case of winter emergencies to stop mass starvation.”

  Stanley cleared his throat. “So you’ve given this some thought already?”

  “Did you honestly think I married Arrago without realizing I was also getting a new job? I am many things, but stupid is not high on that list.” She scowled at her trunk. “When I get back, remind me that I need new gear.”

  “I will make it my highest priority.”

  She offered him her hand. “I will get you your army and your stability. You give me the time to get Erem.”

  Stanle
y struggled to his feet and gripped her hand. “Agreed.”

  DISMISSED FROM THE important mission of going to Orchard Park to quell the elven renegades, Edmund went back to his study to work through the night. The lack of a fire had allowed a chilly dampness to settle into the room. He used his small candle to light the other candles in the room. He stared at the fireplace and decided he could light the fire himself, especially as he had a candle already going.

  So he got down on his knees, setting the candle holder off to the side. He used the poker to push aside the ash from earlier, disappointed that there were not even hot coals left. He got the dry tinder and the tiny wood splinters in a pile and used his candle to catch it. Some of the wax melted and spilled, which help keep the flicker light alive. He careful placed a bit more wood chips on it and, slowly, fanned the fire to life.

  It took him several minutes before he was confident enough to begin loading the wood directly into the fireplace. He left the very large pieces alone, since he was uncertain about his coordination here in the dim light. But he managed with the small pieces just fine. The smaller birch, the size of his arm, caught immediately, and soon a blazing warmth heated his face. It sent a chill down his spine, as if the fire was pushing the chill out through his back.

  There was a time he would have scoffed at the idea of lighting his own fire. Now, something deep within him compelled him to push. He didn’t examine the urge, afraid of what he’d find. Instead, he simply picked up his candle and went to his desk to work. Being busy helped the madness that threatened to overtake him when the shadows were at their worst.

  As Lord Chancellor, Edmund’s job was still evolving over the last year. Ideally, he would control the collection of taxes in Taftlin and ensure that all of the royal bills were paid. However, Rayner had been looking after the accounts and was doing a good job of it, so Edmund didn’t want to take away the job. Add to that, they were still struggling with the basics of recovering from both the civil war and the Magic war, so tax collection had pretty much halted outside of the immediate reach of the Winter Palace and Castle Gree.