She needed to get inside and holed away so that she could speak with Arrago and her allies, and then plan an attack. This kind of threat had to be met with strength, not recklessness, and she couldn’t do this on her own. If they made any mistakes, her head would be on a spike next to Arrago’s.
“You need to talk to Arrago,” Edmund said finally.
“I know, but I can’t trot in through the palace, either,” Bethany said.
“Are the elves really trying to kill you?” Edmund asked.
She looked at Brennus and said, “Some are.”
Brennus clenched his jaw. “How dare Jud abandon his oath?”
“It seems to be going around,” Bethany said.
Finally, Edmund said, “We need to get you inside the palace. The best way is through the storage entrance, where deliveries for the kitchens come through.”
“Plan?” Bethany asked.
They talked it over for a few minutes. A red-headed Elorian covered in weapons couldn’t simply stroll through the Imperial Palace unseen in the best of times, and Bethany had left her helmet behind when she put on her show for the escort. Even Edmund waltzing into the servants’ entrance with heavily-armed elves would go noticed, as he’d never used that path in the year he’d been living at the palace. He didn’t even know the twisted paths to get from the inner hallways through the secret doors and into the main areas of the palace.
Edmund decided they needed Jackson. He’d know all of the entrances, and no one would think it amiss if he escorted a couple of guards through the servants’ wing. Edmund could go in through the usual entrance and they would meet in the middle, as it were. Edmund mounted his horse which was tied outside to a tree in the shade. Bethany waited in the cottage, weapons sheathed, and tried to think herself through the many steps she had to take once inside the palace.
Jonas and Darien came back inside to join them, saying there was no one nearby the cottage.
“What are we going to do?” Darien gulped when he asked the second question: “How much trouble will I be in for helping you?”
Brennus scowled at Darien. “Knight Darien, you wish to be a vowed knight one day, correct?”
“Yes,” Darien said, straightening. He did that whenever Brennus spoke to him.
“Then you must learn duty to what is right is more important than duty to one’s orders. You must learn to tell the difference and to do it in the face of knowing what the consequences will be. And you must learn to hold your head proudly, knowing that no matter what happens, you were a true knight to the bitter end.”
Bethany looked at Myra, who stared at Brennus with a shocked expression on her face. Darien wasn’t much calmer. Bethany tried to hold in her laughter, but she couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her.
Brennus looked at her sharply. She shrugged easily and said, “A bit too thick there, Lord Brennus.”
“Bah. I’m still practicing. Lord Jovan told me he wanted to identify anyone who should be appointed as an apprentice, and to start training the ones who already are amongst the Prince’s personal guard. It was his last order before he left.”
“Didn’t Jud overturn that?” Bethany asked.
“I’m not important enough for Jud to correspond with,” Brennus said with a wicked grin.
“I think I’m going to like you, Brennus.”
She collapsed in a dusty chair and gathered her thoughts, while the others peppered Brennus with questions about the vowing ceremony for knights.
First, she had to gather together those she trusted. She was off to a good start, but she needed more allies. Lord Stanley, for sure. He was too old to be a fighter, but he was a man of influence, power, and information. Those were three things she didn’t have access to at the moment without blowing her cover.
She trusted Rose, Cassandra, and the Dowager. Kiner had made the Dowager aware of Rose’s unique position as one of his people, and the old lady had been using her to funnel information for a year now. Rose was hired by the palace as a nursery maid, and was constantly shuffled between Cassandra, Amber, and Paverly, as all three women helped raise Opal, Prince Henry, and Cassandra’s little boy.
Bethany would have brought Paverly into the mix—she was Allric’s half-sister, after all—but she was on a tour of the north with Cassandra’s cousin and her children. She wouldn’t be back in time to help.
Bethany obviously trusted Edmund and Amber, and likewise Jackson. If possible, she’d get Jackson to hunt down some of their old militia from the war. It might be an impossible task, but hopefully some stayed on with Jackson or maybe at Gree. Jackson would have a better idea where everyone ended up.
She didn’t trust any of the original escort she brought from Wyllow, beyond Myra. She didn’t completely trust Darien, but he knew more than he was letting on. She was hoping his desire to impress people would eventually let something slip that she could use later. She’d been cut off from knowing anything important for a year now, and knowledge was a weapon. She couldn’t fight what she didn’t know.
She’d have Jackson and Brennus watch the escort guards carefully. They would do their duty, but she wasn’t convinced any of them truly understood what that meant. Duty was more than following an idiot’s idiotic orders. It was doing what was right. None of them were experienced enough to understand that.
“You all right?” Jonas asked her.
Bethany smiled, and it wasn’t a friendly expression. “Jud is going to regret the day he made me his enemy.”
Chapter 6
Dozens of candles flickered cheerfully around Arrago’s bedchamber. The whale oil lamp added a cozy glow to the room. That, along with full moon outside and the small fire warding off the damp of his room, gave Arrago plenty of light to read by.
He reclined on the sofa and enjoyed the few moments of silence and peace afforded him. If his servants had any say in the matter, they’d never leave him alone. However, he had plenty to say on the matter, and he purchased an elven pendulum clock to be placed in his personal drawing room. There, the servants would see it, note the time, and leave him alone.
This plan had a small flaw, however. His servants had never seen an elven clock before and had no idea how to use it. So, in a fit of frustration one night, Arrago personally installed a candle clock outside of his bedroom’s door. He insisted he be permitted ten uninterrupted hours at night. This was quickly revised to eight hours when a terrified servant explained they only had eight hour candles and not ten hour ones.
But as he stretched out across his sofa, Arrago was happy with his eight hours. Most days he simply slept, but he was enjoying his book too much. One of the amazing benefits of being king was the ready access to luxuries, such as books. He invested in five businesses to bring printing presses to Taftlin.
One in particular was set up on the estate, and was busy turning all of the fragile and faded historical scrolls into bound books. One such set was The Annotated History of Taftlin, Complete with Drawings. It was a fascinating tale of dragons and griffins, alongside the mundane of royal politics and court backstabbing. Dragons and other mythical beasts had always fascinated him, since he’d been a little boy and had first heard the myths and stories. These histories, even if embellished, were the perfect combination of his twin delights.
The pounding on the concealed door startled him. It was a difficult entrance to access, and there were guards posted at the bottom of the stairs in case anyone found their way. In the entire time he’d been at the palace, no one had ever knocked on the door. Arrago glanced at the tapestry that covered the secret door, frowned, and grabbed the decorative sword perched on his mantle.
He shook off his robe and slippers. It would be easier to fight in bare feet and bare chest than with a flowing silk robe getting in the way or ill-fitting, slippery-bottomed wool slippers.
Arrago gripped the sword and took a defensive stance, just like he’d been taught by Bethany and Jovan a lifetime ago. He didn’t shout. He’d just give himself away, and he’d be d
ead before one of the footmen or guards got past the locked door.
More knocking upon the door. “Arrago! It’s Edmund. Open the damn door!”
Arrago relaxed instantly and took several long strides to unlatch the door’s locks. He swung open the door. “Why did you come this way?”
Edmund pushed aside the tapestry and squinted when the light hit his eyes. “We couldn’t risk being seen.”
“We?” Arrago asked and peered through the entrance, but the light of his room made it impossible to see anything in the darkness of the stairwell below.
“Delivery for you,” Edmund said. “Everyone in.”
Amber rushed into Arrago’s room, a mixture of worry and excitement on her face. She was followed by Jackson and Jonas; he knew both well from the war. Good men. An elf he’d never met, but Arrago recognized him as one of the knights. A young elf he’d never seen before. Kiner, of course.
“Myra!” Arrago said, clasping the young Rygent’s hand firmly. “It is good to see you back in Taftlin where you belong.”
“Thank you, Majesty,” she said, and then stepped out of the way.
A cloaked figure behind Myra pulled down their hood and smiled. Arrago’s heart skipped a beat before thudding in his chest. Her hair was long enough to braid now, and she’d put on enough weight that her cheeks and eyes no longer looked sunken and feral. She snorted at Arrago’s shocked expression, and he grabbed Bethany by the waist and pulled her tightly to him. They laughed as he rocked her back and forth, squeezing until she protested from the pain. He kissed her mouth swiftly, but was too excited to dwell on any one action.
“I can’t believe you are here!” Arrago said, hugging her again.
“I’m so happy to see you,” Bethany said and, though she was smiling, her voice didn’t have the mirth he’d expected it would.
“What’s happened?”
Arrago’s joy at seeing Bethany faded as she detailed the situation he was currently facing. His anger bubbled and raged several times, but he let her finish her story without interruptions. They’d been racing ahead of the escort to bring news that there wasn’t just one traitor or one dangerous situation. No, they did it to warn him about several within their own ranks.
Arrago clenched his jaw when Bethany told him about the knight who tried to burn her and Lendra alive. He managed to hold back his outraged commentary, but only just. Finally, Bethany finished explaining the situation and he gave himself permission to speak.
“You’re saying that, since arriving in Taftlin, there have been several attempts on your life and Lendra’s. And, because that isn’t enough worry for me, there is also a plan to oust me and Henry. And, again because bad news comes in threes, you believe the Elven Council is after you. Did I miss anything?”
“Technically, points one and three are related,” Bethany said. She flashed him a wicked grin and his heart sped up again.
“Apexia’s might, I’ve missed that smart mouth of yours.”
Bethany sat down on the sofa he’d originally been relaxing on and stretched out her long legs. She craned her neck from side to side, wincing when one side popped. “We need to be cautious now.”
Kiner nodded his agreement. “I think we should keep Bethany’s arrival a secret. I recommend we circulate the rumour that Bethany was injured and is resting wherever. We’ll send some of our human knights.” For Bethany’s benefit, he added, “All of our humans stayed in Taftlin. No one went back to Orchard Park, or home. They’ve all asked to remain here, so we have hundreds spread out across the country helping.”
“You want to lure them in?” Brennus asked. Then, he inclined his head and said, “In all of the excitement, I don’t believe we’ve actually been introduced.”
“Kiner, formerly Lord Kiner of the Elven Service.”
Brennus exchanged grips with Kiner. “They’re politicians. Give them a few decades and they’ll be begging to bring you back.”
Kiner’s smile was polite, but Arrago knew him well. Kiner was humiliated by the letter sent to Arrago by Jud. Kiner had finally settled into his new role in Taftlin, though he still didn’t like to talk about what had transpired. Brennus asked Kiner about the nature of his dismissal, and Arrago decided to step in.
“I assume everyone in this room you trust, Bethany?” Arrago asked.
“Along with the Dowager, Cassandra, and Rose.” For Arrago’s benefit, she said, “Rose is one of ours.”
“Who is Rose?”
Edmund cleared his throat. “The servant girl who...witnessed your wedding ni—”
“Never mind!” Arrago said, cutting the discussion off at the knees. “Apexia’s holy name, I had no idea that she was a knight.”
“Apprentice,” Kiner clarified. “But, yes.”
“This is Darien,” Bethany said, pointing at the younger elf. “He was sent to spy on me by Jud. He’s going to work with Brennus and Jackson. I’ll explain later.” Bethany let out a violent yawn. “Can everyone sleep here tonight? We’re exhausted.”
“Of course. I’ll get the servants to bring up some...”
“No servants,” Bethany said. “Not yet.”
Arrago frowned at her, but organized the others into his drawing room. He alerted the guards outside of his main suites that the door would be locked and he didn’t wish to be disturbed in the morning by servants. They looked unimpressed, but didn’t contradict his orders.
Amber offered to take his new guests to the next room, so that he could have some privacy with Bethany. Once the logistics were organized, Arrago came back into his bedroom. He sat down next to her and pulled her close.
“I missed you,” he whispered, kissing her dirty hair.
“I hope your mistress won’t mind me staying with you tonight,” she whispered back. She snuggled in close. She smelled of sweat and horse, and she was still in all of her gear.
“Was that a clumsy way of asking if I had a mistress?”
She snorted. “I already know you don’t have one.”
Arrago rolled his eyes, even though she couldn’t see it. “I suppose Amber told you that.”
“No, you idiot. I trust you.” She tipped her head up to look at him. She was grinning. “I’m starving.”
He kissed her mouth. It tasted about as bad as she smelled, but he didn’t care. He was so happy to see her. “Want me to raid the kitchen?”
“Won’t someone think that’s suspicious?”
“Why would they? I do it at least once a week.” He kissed her again. “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Bethany?”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
“Shut up and get me some food.”
Arrago laughed and left in search of food appropriate for a fussy elf. He failed at keeping his grin to himself. Bethany was back in Taftlin! She was home. He’d deal with the worries and frets tomorrow. Right now, he was going to soak in her presence back in his life.
He’s been so worried over the last year. Stanley and Rayner had talked him out of marching all the way to Wyllow and demanding they release her into his custody. Stanley did it with his usual touch, by saying taking a boat was faster in any case.
The kitchen was still busy, even at this hour, as they were roasting meats. He quietly asked one of the girls to put together a plate for him, enough for breakfast, too, since he didn’t wish to have breakfast brought up. There was a flutter of activity putting together food and, by the time they were done, they had packed him a basket. He accepted it, and took a large pitcher of water.
These days, they didn’t fuss at him when he did this. When he’d first moved to the palace, the poor head cook threatened to quit over Arrago’s presence in the kitchen. But arrangements and concessions were made, and now she tolerated it, but just barely.
Arrago told the guards further down the corridor that Edmund, Amber, and a few friends were gathered for a discreet party and to relieve the footmen outside of his doors. They were knights, so they did
n’t care. He still latched the doors behind him, however, just in case. He handed out some of the food from the basket to his guests before heading back into the bedroom. He latched that door, too.
Bethany was in the same position he’d left her. Only now, she was snoring. There was a drool stain on the sofa’s velvet. He quietly put the basket of food on the floor for her, and put the water next to the wash basin. He pulled out the teeth cleaning kit for her, along with some soap, and placed them all on top of a cloth for her to wash with. Then he kissed the top of her head—she didn’t stir—and began to strip for bed.
Tomorrow, he’d save her life. Tonight, he was going to enjoy having her near him, no matter how horridly she stank.
Chapter 7
She grabs the back of Sir Eli’s neck and slams his drooping face into the table. She screams, “Traitor,” at him again and again for the benefit of eavesdroppers. She doesn’t mean it. Sir Eli is a hero, but she does it anyway.
Arrago stands next to her silently weeping. He will never forgive her for this, she is certain, but this needs to be done. Moans escape Sir Eli and Bethany grabs the bottle from the table in a vain attempt to dull her feelings.
“Stop this,” Arrago whispers.
She doesn’t. Instead, she lectures him and hands him the bottle. He drinks from it, though the broken expression never leaves his face. She tries not to feel guilty about it. She tries to push it aside. It is so very difficult. No matter what had happened, she still loved him. She still valued and respected him, and this is the first step into turning Arrago into a monster.
The monster she already is.
“Then stop being one,” Sir Eli said.
Bethany ignores him and kicks over his chair. Sir Eli crashes to the wooden floor. Hay mingles with his hair. “This is how wars are won.”
“So if I understand you, you are saying you don’t actually want to stop being a monster,” Sir Eli says, his face a mask of blood.
Bethany kicks him in the ribs. “Shut up! You shouldn’t even be conscious.” She turns to Arrago, who is staring down at Sir Eli’s beaten body. “This is how wars are won.”
Schemes Page 10