by N M Zoltack
But was that—being a knight—his only dream?
57
Rase Ainsley
The growing threat of the lingering war, the ever-present worry that a battle would erupt close to his shack forced Rase to carry the dagger with him at all times. He had never used any kind of weapon against a human. Animals to hunt, kill, carve, and eat? Yes, many a time, but to fight another… Rase did not think he could have the stomach for it.
Leanne was using her fear as an excuse to never leave the shack. Her grief still overwhelmed her, and that accounted for some of her self-imposed isolation, but Rase was beginning to get worried. She was starting to put on weight because of the consistent food she was eating but also because she did not move much. She wasn’t all that active at all, and it worried Rase. If the fighting should come their way, Leanne would just lay there and wait for one of the Vincanans to shove his or her sword through her.
No. She needed to find the courage to continue onward. Yes, they had lost a lot between Pa, Maxine, and the baby. Yes, Maxine had been Leanne’s best friend. But Leanne had survived. She still lived, and now, she had to start acting like she was.
Which would mean leaving the shack.
But not without protection.
Rase rushed all the way back to the scarred blacksmith’s smithy. The forge was lit, the blacksmith and the apprentice both working hard to fulfill orders to both customers and the crown that neither noticed him at first.
Once the crowd’s needs were addressed and the customers all departed, that was when the blacksmith noticed Rase.
“I need two more daggers,” Rase said boldly.
“Do you hear that?” the blacksmith asked. “The boy wants more weapons. You going to pay for them?”
“Not if you use that terrible—”
“You aren’t going to play that card again,” the blacksmith hissed.
He picked up his hammer and strolled over toward Rase, a tall table between them. Rase didn’t want to, but he backed away.
Not far away enough as the blacksmith reached out, snatched Rase by the shirt, and lifted him up and over the table and into the smithy.
“You see,” the blacksmith said, still holding Rase into the air, “I don’t like being taken advantage of.”
“I’m sure your customers don’t either,” Rase squeaked out. His heart raced, and his head felt strange, like he was lightheaded and dizzy.
The blacksmith tapped his hammer against his shoulder. “I can bash your head in right here, right now and be done with you forever.”
“I-I have coins—”
“I don’t care if you do,” the blacksmith said calmly, “because the price I would charge you is only five times what I would charge anyone else.”
“T-That’s fine.” Rase hated that his voice cracked. “L-Let me go home and get my—”
“Do you listen to him?” the blacksmith crowed. “He was going to try and force us to give him two daggers without paying for them none again!”
“I’m not lying. I do have—”
“I don’t have to accept your coin, cumberworld. I don’t have time to accept anything at all from you—not lies, not threats, not anything, you here?” The blacksmith shook him violently before drawing him close and shoving his face near Rase’s. “Ask me how I got this scar. Go on. Ask me.”
Rase said nothing.
“A man tried to cheat me. I drew a knife on him. He sliced my skin, but I sliced his chest and killed him. I gave you a dagger, boy. I let you live, and you dare to come back and try to press me…”
The blacksmith tossed the hammer to his apprentice, who caught it with ease grace. With his free hand, the blacksmith squeezed Rase’s throat.
Just then, a man approached. “Is my order for a longsword—”
The blacksmith dropped Rase to the ground so hard and fast that Rase fell onto his rump. The blacksmith kicked him, and Rase stumbled to his feet and fled the smithy out the back. The boy didn’t stop running until he made it all the way back to the shack.
How could he have grown so selfish, so demanding? Being called a cumberworld… The insult that he was so useless that he merely took up space and did nothing at all worthwhile stinging, and yet, he could not deny the charge, not entire.
Rase swallowed hard. The walls were starting to close in on him. Was this desperation he felt what his pa had? Was this the reason why his pa had resorting to thievery? Was this the beginning of the end, when everything was going to start to catch up to him?
Maybe Rase had escaped death today, but that didn’t mean death wouldn’t try again tomorrow.
58
Olympia Li
The journey southward wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, but Olympia told herself to smile each night. After all, each day, she was moving ever closer toward Atlan.
With Bjorn.
She did not trust the champion from Maloyan, and it seemed as if he did not trust her in return. Although she would have appreciated a true alliance with the man, she had little doubt that he wished to use her, perhaps even betray her.
Only the notion that she had used him had given her the courage to keep Bjorn around. After all, she had done the same to him by only wanting any and all information he could provide. She knew exactly where he stood with her. They had both learned news of great important, but he had neglected to share it with her. That alone proved he could not be trusted.
He woke her the next morning, and she stretched. “We will leave in a—”
The scent of cooking meat caused her brow to furrow.
“We haven’t had a hot meal in over a week,” Bjorn said. “I found a small quail while keeping watch. It won’t need much more than a few minutes more to cook.”
“A fire can draw attention,” she snapped.
His lips twisted into a wry smile. “I do not think anyone would take a look at us and think, ‘Oh, look! It’s the missing—’”
She jumped to her feet and went to slap him, but he gripped her wrist, preventing her blow from landing.
"You seek to delay me," she said, furious.
“I do not. You are free to go ahead. I’ll finish cooking, eating, salting and preserving the rest, and then I’ll catch up to you.”
Olympia scowled.
"Or… you could share a meal with me, and then we continue southward together."
“Which side do you wish will win?” she asked as she yanked her hand free and gathered her blanket.
“I do not follow.”
“Rivera? The other queen… Grantham? Is that right? Or the Vincanans? Who do you wish to see on my behalf?”
“Your behalf,” he repeated as he sauntered over to the quail and turned the skewer above the flames.
She gritted her teeth, hating that he was feigning ignorance.
Perhaps she should do what she had been considering each time she took watch during the night. She did not trust the man, so would she not be far better off going alone? Yes, he was correct. She had no army, but King Jankin had taken the throne without a battle, merely by killing a few royals, so why couldn’t she do the same?
“How much longer until we reach the castle?” she asked.
“That depends. We haven’t reached Cilla yet, and we’ll have to go through the Black Forest some and then… Going around the Olacic Mountains would be best, much swifter than climbing them.”
Her heart sank. They had not passed by many travelers and tended to stay away from any town or village. While this meant they did not have to deal with people, it also meant they were ignorant. They had no notion as to what was transpiring at the castle. Might she have to deal with a new sovereignty instead of the two queens? Which would be preferable?
“We eat and then we hurry along as swiftly as our horses will take us. Then, you will make yourself useful,” she demanded.
“How so?” he asked lazily.
“You will find someone to take our tired horses and give us fresh mounts.”
“You mean I will pay for the new horses.”
She shrugged. “If you must. The swifter we reach Atlan, the better.”
“I cannot help the weather,” he protested, “just as you cannot.”
He was referring to the blizzard that had caused them to take a wide detour and had cost them several days early on into their journey. A superstitious woman would have taken that as a sign to turn back, but Olympia was many things, and stubborn was one of them.
“With or without you,” she started.
“The quail’s ready,” he announced. “Do you wish to carve or should I?”
“Go ahead,” she grumbled.
With deliberateness and swift slices of his dagger, Bjorn showed off a skill that would prove deadly on the battlefield. He would be a valuable warrior on any side.
But he would never be on her side, a fact Olympia would not ever forget.
59
Rase Ainsley
As much as he hated it, Rase had to start spending less and less each day. He just wasn’t able to steal as much, and after everything with the blacksmith, Rase had opted to stop exploiting secrets, at least for the time being.
He still went to the market each day, worried that the thinning of the merchants would eventually mean he would not be able to purchase any food. Thus far, some merchants always turned up, but with the war here, that might not always be the case.
Rase bypassed the man who he had forced to give him multiple pairs of shoes and wished he had a hat or cap of some kind to hide his appearance. As he hurried along, he bumped into a guard.
“That’s the one,” a familiar voice said.
Rase’s stomach churned. One of the butchers he had exploited pointed at him.
The boy took off running, but another butcher blocked his path, and a different guard seized him.
“Trying to make a profit when everyone is working hard, buckling down, and trying to stay afloat despite the war?” the guard asked, shaking Rase. “I should dunk you into the Ember Sea. Do you know how to swim, boy?”
“I-I haven’t been in deep water,” Rase admitted.
“You are now.”
The guard yanked on Rase and dragged him over to a horse.
“A-Aren’t you going to yell at me, scold me, and set me to go after I promise not to—”
“Any crime committed during war carries a more severe sentence,” the guard said grimly. “It’s off to a cell for you.”
“No! You don’t understand! My ma, my sister, they need me!”
"They need someone who can reliably help them, and that's not you."
The guard refused to say another word, and as soon as they reached the castle, Rase was dragged down to the dungeon and thrown inside. The boy could hardly believe his ill-fortune. He had been trying to turn things around, to do the right thing, but he had tried too late. Rase couldn’t deny that he had done those men and many others wrong, but he had been desperate. He had done what he needed to survive.
Cold, hungry, all alone, missing his family and hating that they would worry when he never returned home, Rase sank to the floor. He curled into a ball, but he refused to cry.
The guards watching over the prisoners ignored Rase but hurled insults at the others. Days passed, maybe a week, maybe longer, and one day, right around when the guards would normally change, a woman stood before Rase’s cell. She looked oddly familiar, but he could not place her.
She unlocked his cell, and the door swung open. “Come on now,” she urged.
Rase, although weak, half-starved, and exhausted, pushed himself up and nearly collapsed into her arms.
“Let’s go.”
The woman was deceptively strong, which proved a blessing as Rase had to be half-dragged. By the time she led them out of the dungeon and away from the castle, Rase would have wept, but he hadn’t had a drop to drink in so long that he could not produce tears.
“Almost there,” the woman murmured, still walking.
Rase recovered his senses enough to be able to walk alongside her, and she brought him to a cave half burrowed into the ground. Two young children came out to greet him, and that was when he recognized the woman.
“Your daughter,” he murmured.
“Yes, Sunna. You insisted we go see that man, and we did, and she’s all better now, thanks to you. Sunna, Conrad, go and fetch some water!” the ma urged.
The children scampered off without delay, although Sunna glanced back at Rase every few steps.
The small family fed him, gave him water, and helped to soothe Rase’s spirits. Yes, he had made many enemies in his attempt to help his family, but he had aided others, and he had made friends.
Once he had thanked the Bushes and departed for him, Rase began to think long and hard. Maxine had died as a result of an earl’s son and his getting her pregnant and then tossing her aside for a lady. If anyone should be forced to make things right, it was Lord Radcliff Snell.
Perhaps it was not the smartest of ideas, but Rase was desperate. Winter would be there soon, and his family needed so many things that he just could not supply on his own. Yes, soon, very soon, Rase would seek out Radcliff. Rase had been taught a valuable lesson throughout his incarceration, and the earl’s son needed to learn one too.
60
Cateline Locke
Time passed so quickly that Vivian lost track of the days and weeks, but soon enough, the ship reached Xalac Island. The former princess was so eager to reach the island that she jumped out before the crew had set down their island.
No one came to see them, not even a curious child. The farther Vivian ventured away from the ship, the more alarm she became.
There were no signs of life.
While some from the ship shouted at her, Vivian only ran that much faster, heading toward the center of the island. Trees had fallen, but she found one that was mostly upright, and she climbed it.
The sight below made her want to weep. Every stone-and-mud building that she could see had been demolished. At least, she assumed they had once been buildings, maybe even houses. The sand had large craters dug into it. Everywhere she looked, all Vivian saw were signs of devastation. The island was in shambles.
Vivian walked back toward the others, nearly dragging her feet.
"They're gone," she said. "There aren't any ships here, right?"
“None,” a Vincanan confirmed. “Not even the one that should be here from Tenoch.”
“No one here? They must have fled. Do you think it was because of a massive storm?”
As the others began to theorize what had happened, Vivian sat on the sand and used a stick to cut lines. The Li Princess was gone, if she had ever been here, if she even existed. The Vincanans were growing more heated, more upset, whereas Vivian felt more despondent. The people of Xalac Island had clearly needed aid. Why hadn’t they asked the crown for some? Did all of the islands feel as if they were too far removed from the castle? Had the displaced people from Xalac sent word back to Tenoch, to Atlan
Would the other ships sent by the Vincanans be able to convince the islanders to join their cause without little resistance?
“What is the world coming to?” Vivian murmured to herself.
“You.” A warrior kicked the sand near Vivian. “Go and see if there are any animals here to eat. I have a hankering for some meat.”
Vivian scrambled to her feet, nodded, and set off to hunt. She had not minded the days at sea, dreaming about locating the Li princess and then… Vivian had never determined just what she would say or do if she had met the lady. What was the world coming to? First the war, now a storm that had destroyed an island… The wraith too, she couldn’t forget about the terrible being dragons had once used to frighten humans onto the noble and just path. Were all of these signs that the world was about to end? Vivian didn’t know, but she was certain that she would continue on, doing whatever she could for Atlan, even if she never found a way back home.
61
Queen Sabine Grantham
Nothing could have prepared Sabine for
how utterly helpless and terrified she had felt when she had learned that the Vincanans had managed to break into the castle. Yes, the knights had been able to defend the castle well enough that the Vincanans had been forced to retreat and thus far had not returned, but at night, Sabine woke in a cold sweat. All of her dreams now were nightmares about her dying or else she was back in that tiny room with ten guards, waiting, hoping, praying the Vincanans would not find her.
Would not kill her.
Even now, she was anxious and worried. It felt as if the walls were closing in, but despite all of this, she kept her shoulders back and her head high. She would not give up, not now, not ever.
But… she supposed now might be the time to give Rosalynne a bit more power. Sabine was quite confident that the younger queen would fumble and fail, and that would only serve to help to ensure Sabine was made the one and only queen that much sooner.
Because Tenoch Proper desperately needed one ruler to unite the lands. Dragoona’s continents and islands could be controlled by one person, but only be the correct person. This having two queens nonsense was the reason why everything was falling apart, why there was this war in the first place.
Surely Sabine could end this war if she could just talk to Marcellus again. It had sounded to Sabine that the guard Edmund may have crossed swords with the prince. If he had, Edmund was indeed lucky to be alive.
Would it be feasible for such a meeting between Sabine and Marcellus to take place?
She sighed and rubbed her temples. Her mother had been avoiding her lately and had ever since the Vincanans had arrived. Greta claimed they would have a better chance of surviving if they remained separated, but Sabine was certain her mother was using this time away to her advantage, trying to sow seeds of discontentment into Sabine’s own people, maybe even her own council. After that last disaster of a meeting, Sabine had not seen a single member of her council save for her mother.