Arrago blinked. He just stared at her. Surely, he’d heard her wrong.
“I know you have been considering it, Arrago. The priests travelling with you have asked you repeatedly to become the symbol of rebellion. Edmund Greyfeather had told you it is time to fight. Your heart tells you to fight. Your conscience tells you to fight. Do it.”
“Yes, but...” Arrago stopped himself at her sharp glare. He took a deep breath. “I don’t mean to disagree. Of course, I will lead my group and do whatever you desire.”
She shook her head. He didn’t like the look in her eyes, fearful that he’d become lost in her eternal, piercing gaze. “No, Arrago. You will start a rebellion. You will defeat Daniel on the field of battle. You will put his crown on your head.”
Even though the air around them was warm, the chill of her voice made the hairs on his arms stand on end. “Crown?” Surely he had not heard right. Why would a goddess care who was the leader of Taftlin?
“When I look into the future, only half of the possibilities have you controlling the crown of Taftlin. You need to become king.”
“I could never become king. I’m a commoner.”
Her face grew stoic, her voice cold like ice. “You are what Daniel fears. If you lead, there will be no stopping what you can become.”
He flinched again, her words slapping his face with their cold tendrils. Fear gripped him. He did not want to lead. He did not want to die. Arrago closed his eyes for a moment before saying. “I will try, Gentle Goddess.”
“Try hard.”
“Um,” Arrago began, “I…though you could not interfere in the lives of mortals.”
“I am the Goddess,” Apexia snarled. “The only rules that exist for me are ones I created. I will do as I please and you, mortal, will obey!”
Arrago flinched once more. “Yes, Gentle Goddess.”
Apexia drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, visibly calming herself. In a softer voice, she said, “If you don’t become king, Bethany will die. That is why I am interfering.”
Her words cut through him. “Die?”
“Yes.” Her expression turned sad. “Without you, she will be lost.”
“How?”
“You are the Elf King of prophecy.”
Arrago stared at her. The prophecy. The one revealed when he was in Orchard Park. The one that said the elf king would protect Bethany. “I’m not an elf.”
A throaty laugh escaped her. “That much is obvious. But, it doesn’t matter. They will call you that in song and story. He who carries an elven name. She needs you and you cannot help her if you are a corpse in a gutter.”
“Bethany doesn’t need anyone, especially not me.” The words wounded him.
“Bethany would rather die than accept any help. That does not negate her needing it.” Apexia stepped toward him, and crouched down to look into his eyes. She cupped his face in her hands. Her hands were warm, soft. Heat travelled through his body and a wave of energy flooded him as though he’d had a good night’s rest. “Have you not wondered how she is, since you abandoned her?”
Arrago stared at Apexia. “I left her because of you.”
“You left because of your dogmatic piety.” Apexia’s grip tightened on his face. “Do not confuse your needs with mine.”
It wasn’t until Arrago gasped from pain that Apexia withdrew her hand. She stood once more. “Bethany is my daughter, but she is also half mortal. She let you into her life and you left her when she revealed herself. She brought an army to its knees and you left her for it.” Apexia’s voice turned to a snarl. “Do you have any idea what that did to her?”
“No,” Arrago whispered. His hands trembled.
“She turned to the bottle. She caused the death of…” Apexia’s voice cracked. “One of my daughters and my life’s love were killed because she was hurting. Their souls were stolen from me and are being used for Magic. Because of you!”
The last word, delivered with the force of Apexia’s anger and grief struck Arrago and he fell backward, hitting his head on the edge of the cart. Stars swam in his vision. Apexia’s grief flooded through him and he gasped for breath. His eyes welled with tears, the agony of losing a child. The meager contents of his stomach churned and he vomited on himself, half-digested cabbage and salt beef spewing out of him.
He fell to his side, wrapping his arms around his body. He sobbed, the raw desperation of loss and anguish overwhelming his senses.
“You will do as I’ve commanded,” she growled. “You will obey me.”
Arrago could not respond. He scratched at the insanity of the Goddess’s grief. He’d never felt such intense agony in his life. Even leaving Bethany did not come close to Apexia’s rage-filled pain. He crumpled in on himself, wrapping his arms tightly around his legs, weeping.
A masculine voice, far in the distance, called out to him. “Arrago? What’s wrong?” A hand pressed against his arm and squeezed. “What is wrong?”
Arrago snapped his eyes open. The cold air cut through his clothes once more. He struggled to breathe and reached up to clutch Edmund’s leather vest. His friend grabbed him by the forearms and shook him.
“Arrago! Snap out of it!”
He could only shake, the withdrawal of her presence pushing his mind to the edge. As he gripped his friend, still sobbing, Arrago realized his life would never be the same again.
****
“Are you ready? She’ll be here any minute.”
Amber looked at Bethany and nodded. Amber dreaded the task in front of her and, from the thoughts coming from Lendra and Bethany, neither of them looked forward to it.
I hate her.
Amber offered a sympathetic smile at Lendra. Lendra obviously did not hate her older sister. Rather, it was the contrary. Lendra idolized Bethany. She simply was not adjusting well to being used as a game piece. For her own self, Amber did not support it, either, but she could understand Bethany’s thinking, always focused on the completion of duty and never the effects of single-mindedness.
I don’t even know Bethany. She hates me. That’s why she’s doing this to me. I want to go home.
Amber steadied her mind against the silently warring sisters. Once they were on the road, she’d make a point to talk to Bethany about her sister. Lendra was grieving—she’d lost Sarissa, and then regained a monster. Poor Lendra also saw her beloved sister die in her arms. Now, her last remaining, sane sister was dragging her into the middle of a battle field. In fact, Amber knew Lendra more than Bethany did. As usual, Bethany kept her sister at arm’s length, too afraid to get close.
Amber watched Bethany pace Allric’s stable, who gave up his work area for Bethany’s use. He had to oversee the division of weapons and armor between Bethany, Jovan, and the remaining Knights at the temple.
Amber ran her fingers along Allric’s desk.
Allric.
She blushed at the thought of his name. They’d wed that morning, though no one knew it. Soon enough, they would, of course. Though surprised, Aneese happily performed the union, in her sleeping chambers, still wearing her robe and slippers. Later tonight, she was going to find a quiet spot and ravish Allric again.
A smile crept across her face. Bethany stopped pacing and stared at her, arching an eyebrow. Amber blushed and looked away.
Creepy.
Amber snorted at Bethany’s one word thought. Bethany’s thoughts rarely came through, but that one unguarded word was so typical.
“I’m here to see Bethany,” Amber heard Kiner say to the guards a moment before the carpet “door” pushed aside and he stepped in, a brown-haired, ill-fed human girl following him. Soldier, Amber corrected herself. Childhood ends when children become soldiers.
“Rose, this is Miss Amber and Miss Lendra. You know Lady Bethany, of course,” Kiner said, guiding her into the room.
Apexia’s holy name, Bethany better not scare her.
Amber looked away so that no one could see her smiling. Poor Kiner. He worried far too much.
/> “Rose, thank you for coming.” Bethany motioned to a chair but the girl didn’t move. Bethany gave a curt nod and leaned against Allric’s desk. “I heard what happened to you.”
Rose did not physically flinch, but her mind did. Amber fought the nausea of the words.
You have no idea what happened to me. He cut my tongue out while they forced... forced... You had your weapons. Your army. Your Power. I had nothing.
Lendra whimpered and Amber grabbed her hand to squeeze it in support. Bethany looked between them and gave a questioning look.
“She was raped, Bethany,” Lendra whispered. “A lot of times.”
Bethany looked at Rose. “I know. I won’t fake empathy because I have no idea how you feel. That’s not why we’re here. Firstly, I require you to do your duty. Second, I need your help.”
Rose’s quizzical look was enough to not need any interpretation.
“You helped me after Joseph killed all those priests. You charged a Magi. You showed guts.” Bethany straightened her shoulders. “I know you lied about your age to join the ranks. I don’t care. I’m leaving for Taftlin and you’re going to come,” Bethany smiled, “as my apprentice.”
Rose’s jaw dropped and Amber put her hand to her chest.
“An apprentice Knight!” Lendra whispered in awe. “Rose, you might become a vowed Knight one day! Oh, that isn’t that exciting?”
Rose shook her head and mouthed, “No.”
“I wouldn’t say no quite so fast. You know that I am Apexia’s daughter, I assume.” The words came out of Bethany, difficult, and tinged with embarrassment.
Rose nodded.
“I am forbidden from using my Power to read the thoughts of others. I made that vow when I became a Knight and I will not break that promise. Lendra and Amber, however, have no such vow. Lendra is my sister and she can see what’s inside. Amber is a Rygent and she can hear your thoughts.”
Her cheeks turned crimson.
Bethany waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever went through your mind, don’t be embarrassed by it. Far worse has gone through mine. I want you to picture the men who raped you. Lendra and Amber can share that image. Then, if they ever see those men, they will tell me. I will kill them. That is my payment for you joining the Knights.”
Rose blinked.
“Bethany, she wants to know why,” Amber said.
Bethany’s forehead creased. “I am Lady Champion Bethany, a Knight, and someone who fought next to you. Do I need another reason?”
Rose stared for a moment before letting out a slow breath. She looked at Amber and nodded her head, slowly. Bethany stepped back to allow them to approach Rose.
Lendra had explained to Amber earlier how the transference of visions would work. Lendra could not transfer images to anyone who didn’t possess Power. Bethany would have preferred Eve, but she had already been sent ahead of the main army. Amber was all that they had right now.
Lendra took Amber’s hand in hers and then touched Rose’s arm. Amber’s knees buckled from the jolt of power that slammed against her like a hurricane wind, but Lendra’s firm grip held her upright. Rose’s screams echoed in Amber’s mind and she sobbed, though if it was from the transfer of Rose’s emotions or remembering her own rape she could not say. Flash after flash of over eight men branded themselves in Amber’s mind. She would never forget these faces.
Then that beard.
Amber’s body tensed. Blinding, white rage shook her and she pushed herself from the other two women, breaking the link. She muttered curses in her home language that would make even Jovan blush.
Him.
“Amber?” Bethany asked, reaching out.
Amber slapped away her hand. Anger shook her. Rose stared at her.
Is it my fault?
Amber shook her head violently.
“Apexia’s mercy, what’s wrong?” Bethany demanded.
Amber took several deep breaths before controlling herself. The same man who raped her had mutilated Rose. She fought rage from swallowing her whole. “I won’t let you kill him, Bethany.”
“What?”
“He’s mine.” She grabbed Bethany’s arms. “I will kill him. No one but me.”
Chapter Nineteen
Four Months Later
At the Taftlin/Cul border, near Kershaw
After twenty-two skirmishes, two hundred sixteen supply raids, two blizzards, fifteen percent losses, ninety-seven Magi executions, and several near misses, Bethany arrived at the Taftlin boundary hungry, cold, and pissed off.
A Magical warding of some nature surrounded the entire nation, a translucent, shimmering ward, like looking through glass. It left her stuck at the boundary for three fucking weeks, waiting for Jovan. She’d signed a non-conflict agreement with Cul, a former ally of Taftlin. Cul was cut off from Taftlin and, as such, felt rather isolated.
They promised not to attack her army and Bethany promised not to burn their country to a cindering ash. And they say she had no diplomatic skill.
“This is shit luck,” Jovan said, staring at the boundary. His reinforcements had arrived two days prior and no one could figure out how to bring the blasted barrier down.
“What are you whiny about?” Bethany rolled her eyes, though she did not look at him. “You just got here, asshole. I’ve been stuck here in this fucking misery pit waiting for you. Fuck, I hate fucking snow.”
“Well,” Jovan said with a drawl, “I’m so pleased you waited for the rest of your army. I’d hate to have missed the war.”
Bethany snorted. “Not much of a war. I’ve lost too many of my troops to frostbite and near constant Magi raids.” She left off the unfortunate idiots who caught their tents on fire trying to stay warm.
“Can’t you bring it down?” Jovan asked as he sipped from a mug of soup. He made a face. “I hate cabbage.”
“Then starve,” Bethany snapped back. “The salt fish ran out a week ago.”
Erem answered Jovan’s question. “Bethany had all of the archers with Blessed Bows shoot it.”
Jovan spread his hands. “And?”
Bethany shook her head. “It parted and let the arrows through. So, we tried with the Blessed Swords.”
Erem looked down at his leather mittens. “We all have the burns.”
“Fucking burns,” Bethany muttered between sips.
“Aren’t you the beacon of happiness?” Jovan yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “I know one thing. We aren’t going to bring it down dithering here.” He blew out a breath. “Can you do it? Like, with your Power I mean?”
Knots formed in Bethany’s guts. She did not want to try. She clicked her tongue against the inside of her bottom lip, making slurping, popping noises. “I’ve been avoiding that option.” She turned to Jovan and said, “I have no idea how to control the Power and Apexia only knows if I’ll end up burned to a crispy morsel. Besides, I have no idea what’s beyond.”
“It looks clear,” Jovan said.
Kiner grunted. “Could be a trick of Magic.”
“Apexia’s shitting ass,” Jovan complained. “You didn’t even try?”
“Yes, I tried. I touched the fucking thing. It knocked me on my ass, sent a thousand screaming voices into my head, and messed me up so bad that I shit myself. Satisfied?” Bethany glared at Jovan. “I couldn’t try again because if anything happened to me, Erem would be stuck in charge and he can’t run a campaign. No offense.”
“None taken,” Erem replied.
“We need a plan,” Jovan said and he looked at Bethany. “I’m here now, at least. It’s not just you.”
“That makes me feel so much better.” All she knew is that she’d rather face a horde of crazed Magi than touch that barrier again.
Silence fell over them as they ate. Outside, sled dogs howled and barked. Men shouted and women swore. Armor clinked and clanged. Horses neighed. They could not sit here in the snow, waiting for…what? Apexia to descent off her high and mighty behind long enough to take down a madw
oman’s spell?
Bethany finished her soup and shook out the drops. When she stood, she said, “Get Amber, Lendra, and every mind sensitive and healer we got.
“What are you going to do?” Jovan asked.
Bethany shrugged a shoulder, but she kept her back to them, looking out of her tent. “I suppose I’ll go up, try to keep in contact with it, and see what happens. If things go badly, Eve can heal me and Amber can pull me out. Hopefully. If not, you’re in charge.”
Jovan whistled. “I’m so glad Allric isn’t here right now.”
It took several hours to organize the formation around the boundary. If an army waited for them, they needed to be ready. After coming into contact with Magic, Bethany had no way of knowing if she’d even be able to stand afterwards, so she put Jovan in charge, with Eve, Kiner, and Erem in direct control. Jackson, Lendra, and Amber’s job was to drag Bethany from the field of battle, since Bethany assumed she’d be incapacitated.
Pickets were tripled around the baggage train. Cul had mostly left them alone – in fact, the local people gleefully traded and bartered with them and Bethany spent as much in the last week as she had the entire trip getting north. Cul was a tiny nation, its entire army tenth the size of her and Jovan’s combined military force. Of course, she wasn’t there to conquer them; she was there to conquer Magic…and the Cul authorities were rather quick about selling out their Magi.
The blood from the executions still stained her fur boots. It would never come out.
She shook off that line of thinking. She needed to focus, not meltdown. There would be plenty of time for that post-war, when she, Kiner, and Jovan would drown themselves in a bottle together and emerge months later.
Perhaps she was getting older, or perhaps she had drunk too many bottles because even she didn’t find all that much joy in that thought.
Bethany blew out a breath and shifted around in her elk and seal jacket. The shoulders were too narrow for her mail and padding, so she’d slit the armpits to help make more room. The jacket was surprisingly warm and waterproof, provided nothing got into the armholes.
Tranquility's Grief Page 14