Liberate

by Krista D. Ball

  “Look, back at the inn, remember? When we first arrived? Myra said she knew who you were and she would tell me if you didn’t help.”

  “She told you?”

  Bethany rolled her eyes. “Do you know who I am? Of course, she told me. Anyone with half a brain would tell me, if for no other reason to save their own hides.”

  Brennus sucked at the bleeding hole on his hand. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I did. I told Arrago, Amber, and Kiner. And Edmund. Oh, and Jovan when we got here. And Rayner and Stanley. And Jackson. Oh, I told Jonas, too. And Rose, obviously.”

  Brennus sported an injured expression. “You didn’t think to tell me?”

  “No. It’s not personal, Brennus. I’ve only just met you and, frankly, being a knight isn’t something that automatically gains my trust anymore. Goddess, it hurts just to say that, but it’s true. I didn’t know you. I could only trust you as far as I could throw you. Which, granted, is far, but...ugh, I’m picking up Arrago’s little phrases now.”

  Brennus continued to suck at his hand wound. “I suppose it’s different for me. I’ve always known you, or at least your reputation. We are all here because of you. It’s hard not to feel like I’ve known you most of my life.”

  “Yeah. I get that a lot.” Turning to Darien, she said, “Now, you little bastard. Let’s talk about your future.”

  “I didn’t go through with it! I decided not to once I got here. Honest!”

  “Tell me why you didn’t kill me. And don’t lie.”

  Darien looked at Brennus, who nodded encouragement at him. Darien sighed dramatically. “Well, first, you nearly broke my nose at that inn. I didn’t even see it coming.”

  “I didn’t break it,” Bethany said. She rolled her eyes. She’d knew this was going to be whiney, but she had no idea it would be this bad.

  “But you tried! And then you...in the ballroom. You were...I have never seen anyone fight like that. I came in at the end, but even still. Then, after everything, you welcomed me into the palace. You fed me, you didn’t even question me. That’s not what Jud said you’d be like.” Darien gulped. “Then I saw Prince Henry, and he’s so small. And then he and Opal play together, and...I couldn’t. My mother would never have wanted me to kill a little kid for her. So, I broke into Lord Edmund’s office, I stole a couple of small silver trinkets I didn’t think he’d miss, and some of the smaller coins from his drawer. Then, I stole a few pieces of silverware from the dining hall and sold them in the market. I used one of King Arrago’s messengers to deliver the money and letter and...” He gulped. “I invited my mother and siblings to come live here.”

  “Is your mother on her way?”

  Darien shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard yet.”

  Bethany nodded. “It might be a few months before you know. You should have come to one of us and asked for the money. Stealing is unacceptable, especially from people who allowed you to stay in their home. While this is a palace, it is still Arrago’s home, as is it Edmund’s. You should not steal from them. Not to mention, the servants were blamed for the thefts from Edmund’s desk.”

  Darien lowered his head. “I know. I’m sorry. I will find a way to play everyone back.”

  “Good,” Bethany said. “For now, you are going to be moved outside with the palace guard. Sometime sleeping outside with Jackson’s men should help you repay that debt.”

  Darien gulped. “Yes, Lady Bethany. Majesty.”

  “Oh, just pick one.”

  “I’m not the only one,” Darien said.

  “What do you mean?” Jovan asked.

  “After I’d left Jud’s office, after he’d given me my orders, I heard him say to the others in the room with him that he was sending a dozen more with me. He said he’d come himself, if the council would let him. Something about you being a goddess killer.”

  “I didn’t kill my mother,” Bethany said. “Just go.”

  “But...” Darien said.

  “Leave,” Bethany said, harder. “Brennus? Find me Arrago please.”

  “Yes, Lady Bethany,” Brennus said.

  “You may call me Bethany,” she said. She didn’t smile.

  After they left and shut the door, she sank against her chair. She was so tired. “It’s never going to end, is it?”

  Jovan sighed. “I don’t think it is. Jud isn’t going to rest until we’re all dead.”

  She looked at the papers around here. “That changes everything.”

  “Should we leave?”

  “This is my home now. I’m not going anywhere. Let him come.”

  Chapter 25

  BETHANY MOVED THE DRIPPING candlestick away from the map where she was tracing a circle using her empty wine goblet. She turned to speak to the aides who’d been staying up to help her, but they were all fast asleep in their chairs. She didn’t bother to wake any of them; she’d had them running around for hours now and it was well past midnight.

  She carefully borrowed the ink well of one of the assistants and placed it near the candlestick that dripped wax on to the table. The servants were going to be very angry at her, but this couldn’t be avoided. She began to make notes.

  King’s Pass. Repair old fort. Build one extra guard tower at the rear and extend the moat. Bring in two blacksmiths and two hundred permanent guard. Procure one year of food and fuel. Begin stockpile of basic weapons siege defenses usable by untrained seeking refuge.

  So she went, detailing how to fortify Taftlin’s borders. The elves were coming. She knew sooner or later, Jud would send the knights. Those who didn’t want to fight her would defect. The rest, however, would cling to their rules and regulations. They would raze her home to the ground.

  And that was only from the outside. There were plenty enough threats inside the country, with the slavers rebelling. This small attack by Rutherford was his second now, with each escalating. Soon it was going to be civil unrest, and then civil war if the northern and eastern lords weren’t put down. And may Apexia save them all if the barons and the elves got together and joined forces.

  She rubbed her forehead and stared at the map. All of the gold in the world wouldn’t help if the crops failed. It wouldn’t train men faster to fight. It wouldn’t train up blacksmiths or woodsmiths or shipwrights any faster. She needed skilled workers and soldiers. She needed supplies. She needed food. And she need it all now.

  She used the wooden ruler to draw four different squares. Those were the four shipbuilding towns along the western coast. They needed to double production, plus there needed to be more fishing. The far north towns relied on seals and the occasional beached whale, but it wasn’t enough. They relied on the south for their grain, too. She’d need to talk to Rayner and Stanley about all that. They could provide cost estimates. Both advised against selling estates, since that would reduce their income down the line and would make another lord eventually more powerful than the king.

  She agreed, but...How was she to protect all of these people when they were still paying for Daniel’s extravagances and squandered habits?

  She looked at Stanley’s notes. In the past, they had paid twenty gold for orders of a thousand wooden shafts for spears. He recommended reducing that down to orders of ten. Allowed for those who couldn’t count to participate, since it aligned with the number of fingers on the hands. Plus, it cut out middle men who would be taking advantage of the poor, underselling them and overcharging to the Crown. Also, he said it would help infuse ready coin into local economies, thereby helping keep Arrago popular enough to avoid a peasant’s riot.

  That still didn’t help the issue of the instability in the north and east, which no one had a great plan to deal with beyond ignore them or kill them all. Bethany wasn’t keen on either strategy, as ignored problems always got bigger and killing people didn’t always make that person’s problems disappear.

  She looked for the sheet that had Stanley’s name scribbled across the top. She found it and wrote: authorize enough for on
e hundred thousand staves and spear heads. Also three million total arrow staves and arrowheads. Distributed across the country, focused on border regions and possible Elven access points.

  She found the page of Rayner’s and wrote: Edmund says Daniel spent three thousand gold sovereigns on table items for the palace. Can we melt down any of the silver items? What about breakfast room gold spoons? Are they plated? Can plated be melted?

  On Edmund’s page, she wrote: Hire enough tax collectors we can trust and assign soldiers to them to go north. Anyone who refuses to pay taxes is arrested. I will take a team to Rutherford’s county myself to collect the taxes.

  Footsteps interrupted her worries and she looked up to see Arrago walking through the ballroom to where she’d set up her command area. Allric had one similar set up in Castle Gree’s ballroom, during the war, and somehow it felt right to Bethany to do it here.

  “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” she asked.

  She began drawing triangles around towns that already had excellent fortifications from the war. There weren’t nearly enough of those, but at least they were all near the southern border and coastline, where the elves would either make land or cross through Cul.

  “I was, but I awoke to a cold bed,” he said. He pulled his housecoat tighter and looked over her shoulder. “Are you planning to invade any of these towns?”

  She tried to smile, but the effort was too great. “I’m mapping out possible retreat locations, places where Henry could be hidden away. As well as our fortifications, where we need more built, and places where we can garrison troops to begin training and preparation for sieges. Spears. Right.” She pushed open the curled ends of the document meant for Rayner and scribbled SPEARS – HOW MUCH CAN WE PAY?

  He looked at her, worry crossing his face. “You really think we’re heading for another war? So soon?”

  “I expect an elven invasion within two years at the very latest. And I expect the north to rebel in the spring. We need to be ready.”

  “Can we even do this?” He looked at the map. “It looks like a lot of these fortifications were either damaged in the war or in disrepair.”

  “I estimate we’re at a tenth of the strength we need to be.”

  “And, if we aren’t?”

  “We’re all going to die,” Bethany said. “We don’t have an established standing army nor a relationship with enough local lords to raise one. We have no money because Daniel spent it all on vanity projects. I need millions of arrow heads. I need swords, spears, bows, flammables, armour, horses, dogs...At this rate, we’re going to arm people with wooden clubs because we can’t afford all that we need. I don’t know what we’re going to do.” Her voice cracked. “I promised these people I would protect them, and I don’t even know if we’re going to be alive next year this time.”

  “Okay,” Arrago said. “Okay.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and she settled in the warmth of his embraced. “You’re tired and overworked.”

  “I have to plan,” Bethany said.

  “I agree, but let’s do it fresh in the morning.”

  She pulled out of the embrace and looked at her assistants. “I don’t think they ate since breakfast.”

  “When was the last time you ate?”

  Bethany smiled. “Breakfast.”

  “No wonder you can’t think straight. Listen, let’s wake them up and send them to bed. Let’s post a couple of the guards over here so that no one comes in to interfere with the maps.”

  “Or spy.”

  “Or spy. Then, after breakfast, we’ll bring Rayner, Edmund, and Stanley in here. We’ll talk about finances, timelines, all of it. Get Kiner and Brennus to help with picking people to begin the work at these places. Let’s bring the Dowager and her son-in-law into the mix. They can help us with the nobility and all of the history mixed in there.” He reached out and took her hand. “But first, let’s have our queen well rested so that she is able to think clearly.”

  “I gave my word to protect Taftlin.”

  Arrago touched the side of her face. “And you will. But, rest first.”

  Bethany looked down at the maps. They were bleary from tiredness and tears caused by excessive yawning. She could use some sleep.

  “Tomorrow?”

  “I promise. Let’s go to bed.”

  Arrago offered her his hand and she took it. Hand-in-hand, they walked out of the room. Arrago gave ordered to one of the footmen standing outside the door. Bethany only half paid attention. Then they walked together down the corridor to their shared bedchamber. Arrago helped remove her boots and she crawled into bed fully dressed. She was asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

  She dreamt of war.

  Epilogue

  RUTHERFORD SIPPED HIS wine and stared at his flickering fire. He was proud that he'd built it himself. A reminder that he wasn't always an old man who needed help walking down wet stairs. The others had fled back to their estates, to begin mustering their men. He didn't. He stayed in this small house he'd rented. His own home had already been ransacked and his servants arrested, though true to Arrago's soft nature, they'd been released without harm. His servants could not tell on him since they did not know he had this place. No one did.

  A knock came at the door. Rutherford's heart jumped into his throat and began pounding, but he didn't make any move to answer the door. He sipped at his wine some more. He should have brought the raspberry wine with him, for it was his favourite. The cherry was adequate, of course, but it tasted too much like something the elves would like to appeal to their fussy tastes. If this were to be his last glass, then he wanted it to have been a true Taftlin delight.

  There was scratching and movement before the hinges squeaked open. Rutherford wondered if Arrago would come himself, or would he send the queen to do it. He hoped it wasn't the red-headed whore. He couldn't stand the idea of dying at a woman's hand. He'd go to Apexia's embrace having died by her daughter's own hand. Perhaps he'd been sent to oblivion, never to exist beyond the now.

  The stairs creaked underneath the footfalls of the assassin. He couldn't decide if it was a bad assassin, or just someone who was so confident that they didn't care if he'd heard them or not.

  "I'm in the sitting room, if you're looking for me," Rutherford called out.

  He'd not expected the thin waif of a girl in front of her. It was hard to tell her age, for her face was young but her eyes were those of a child who'd seen too much in her short lifetime. "Does the king send child assassins now?"

  The girl didn't speak. She simply pulled back her cloak enough to rest a hand upon her sword.

  Rutherford snorted. "Will you let an old man finish his wine first before you kill me, little girl?"

  She didn't answer him and he went back to drinking his wine. He guzzled what was left in the glass and poured himself another. He drank that one down, too. Then, his belly full of the warm liquid, he said, "Now I'm done."

  He pushed himself up to his feet and held his hands out. "Aren't you the little mute servant that Arrago had working for him?"

  She didn't finch, but he could see the change in her expression at being recognized.

  "That's right. You used to clean my chamberpot. What a glorious job, wasn't it? Cleaning up after my shit."

  He gave the girl credit. She didn't so much as smile at him. He had a small blade tucked up his sleeve. If she rushed him in anger, he might just be fast enough to shiv her in the kidneys. Not a noble cut, of course, but no one would fault an old man from...

  Pressure rose in his chest. It felt like a blacksmith placed his anvil upon him, and began to fashion a sword. The pressure was crushing, and Rutherford collapsed back into his chair. He held a hand to his chest. Was this an attack? Was his heart stopping?

  He glanced at the decanter of wine, now mostly empty. He looked back at the girl and snarled, "You!"

  She walked out, even as he gasped for breath. He noticed the smile on her face before he slipped unconscious. Still sitting i
n his shabby, comfortable chair.

  KINER SAT IN HIS OFFICE, working on the paperwork mounted about him. He was starting to feel like Bethany: paperwork was the true evil in the world. If he could only stamp this out, perhaps all other evils would fall away and there would finally be peace.

  Until then, however, he worked. Bethany had asked him to estimate the military supplies needed for each fortified town she wanted to build. She wanted him to use the current towns along the southern border as a reference point. He'd organized some of the supplies going back down there during the war, so he knew roughly what they needed.

  He estimated the arrows needed to defend such a place for one day, until reinforcements could arrive from the neighbouring forts. He added in the horses for summer and dogs for winter. He estimated their feed needs, along with the soldiers, tradesmen, housing, servants...all of it. Tonight, he worked on the arrow needs. He'd need Brennus to run over the numbers for him, to make sure he'd not forgotten anything, but he was confident in his estimates. They'd need a fair amount of gold just to outfit all of the towns with the arrows alone. They assumed everyone knew how to use bows. Which, he felt was accurate enough, though he didn't know if Bethany wanted to begin training on elven longbows, which weren't used in the north. But would be by Jud and his men upon them.

  There was a knock at the door. "Enter."

  The door only partially opened and Rose slipped in through the crack in the doorway. She never opened a door fully, at least, not that he'd seen. She slipped in and out everywhere. Kiner tried not to think about what had happened to her, but moments like these, he couldn't help it.

  "Is it done?" he asked.

  She nodded.

  Kiner let out a sigh. "Good. It will be our secret, do you understand me?"

  She nodded. Then, she signed out: Why can't we tell her?

  "She will tell Arrago, and he'll be angry. Everyone will think, at best, Rutherford died of an attack. If they find the poison, they will assume he drank it himself. Let them think it.”