The Dothan Chronicles: The Complete Trilogy

by Charissa Dufour

  Beyond the city guard, they also had General Drystan’s forces to contend with. The general was Wolfric’s longest-lasting general, having been in a place of authority since the very beginning of the war. His own troops often mixed with the city guard, making the whole situation that much more complicated.

  The lord jogged up the steep steps of the gatehouse and joined Cred on the battlements, looking out over the wide city of Nava.

  “Mornin’ m’lord,” said the grizzly old man.

  “Cred,” Lyolf said with a nod.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Lyolf noticed the nearest guards take a step or two away from their lord. Lyolf couldn’t decide if it was fear, respect, or uncertainty that kept him from getting to know the people within his care. Sadly, he suspected it was mostly fear and uncertainty that kept them at arm’s length. Over the last week or so, Lyolf thought he had heard muffled grumbles from both people within his keep and without.

  For understandable reasons, they were upset with Wolfric’s most recent tax hike. Lyolf was upset too, but he couldn’t do anything about the king’s taxes, despite what the locals might have thought.

  Lyolf let out a sigh, his mind trailing to Cal and Bethany. Had they made it safely to Dothan? Once again, Lyolf felt a tingle of regret. If he had gone with them to Dothan, he wouldn’t be struggling under the weight of the king’s taxes and the accusing eyes of the locals.

  Lyolf was just about to turn away from the early morning view when he noticed a small cluster of riders turn toward the castle gate. The lord never considered himself farsighted, but even from this distance he could tell it was General Drystan.

  Grumbling to himself, Lyolf descended the steps and motioned for the guard on duty to open the portcullis. Drystan and his assembly trotted into the bailey, generously splattering Lyolf with mud. Lyolf patted at the mud uselessly, wondering what sort of talking to he would receive from Brid.

  “General,” Lyolf said as he reached the group.

  The old, war-worn general looked his age, and then some, and yet he continued to fight on. Despite his years, he was a robust man, still able to mount and dismount his tall horse without aid.

  “Lyolf,” grumbled the old man.

  Drystan gave the ex-prince the barest hint of deference. He knew the reason Lyolf had left the royal family, and he knew Lyolf had had the option to join the army or work the estate. He did not respect Lyolf’s choice.

  The general pulled a wrinkled letter from his pouch and thrust it toward Lyolf. Without speaking, Lyolf took the letter and read its contents. It was instructions to take a letter to the boarder and get it en route to King Gilead. Lyolf glanced up at Drystan, his brows coming together in a frown.

  The general grunted. “Seems the king wants peace.”

  Lyolf’s frown deepened. That was not the Wolfric he knew. Slowly, Lyolf remembered Wolfric’s plan to take Dothan from within through Bethany. Had the princess been recaptured? It seemed unlikely. He had seen them safely away from Nava. It wasn’t that far from Nava to the Dothan boarder. Surely they hadn’t been captured in those twenty or so miles!

  But if Bethany hadn’t been recaptured, what was Wolfric’s plan?

  Lyolf forced the concern from his face and looked up at Drystan.

  “Would you like me to deliver it?” he asked, unsure why the older man had brought it to him.

  “I thought we could go to the border post together.”

  Lyolf tried not to roll his eyes at the general. He knew Drystan wanted to lure him into the army, but Lyolf had no intention of leaving his castle where Athelyna might someday return. If the Lurran woman did come here, he wanted to be present to welcome her and to keep her from leaving again.

  Obediently, Lyolf fetched his own horse and followed the general and his aides out of the castle. He had better things to do than to spend the next two days riding to and from the front lines.

  Chapter Four

  Bethany stole up the narrow stairwell used by the servants, winking at a woman as she passed. In the four days since her return, Bethany had made fast work befriending the servants. Most of them knew her from before her adventure, but even those who she had tormented as a princess were quick to appreciate her transformation. They helped her find places to stow away when she needed a quiet moment and even brought her food. They gladly allowed her to use their passages to get around the castle, and even stopped bowing to her, so long as no one else was present.

  Of course, all this was a great secret from her mother and the rest of the royal family.

  Bethany slowed to a sedate, princess-appropriate walk as she glided down the corridor and slipped into her bedroom, stopping short as she found herself the center of attention.

  “Where have you been?” demanded her mother.

  Cilia, her young lady-in-waiting, frowned from her safe position a step behind the queen. A few other servants stood near the large tub, a few wisps of steam still rising from the cooling water. The servants stared resolutely at the ground, trying their best to hide their smiles.

  Bethany schooled her features into a look of concern.

  “I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t know you were looking for me?”

  It was mostly the truth. She had known about the upcoming banquet being held in her honor, and that she would have to dress for it, but she had no idea her mother would want to begin the preparations so early.

  “I shouldn’t have had to look for you. Why weren’t you in your room?” demanded her mother.

  Bethany chewed on the inside of her lip. The truth was she couldn’t stand sitting still with Cilia after so many months of activity, especially confined in a room that reminded her too much of the room in which Wolfric had held her captive. Bethany had spent the day in one of the least used stairwells, pulling her skirts up past her knees, and running up and down the stairs to expend the energy she contained. Try as she might, Bethany could not think of a truthful reply that was not too honest for the ears of the servants.

  “Can I explain later? I don’t want to be late for tonight?” she added, though it was almost impossible for that to happen considering the early hour.

  Her mother seemed to understand Bethany’s trepidation in talking, and quickly began bustling the others into action. Bethany obediently went behind the curtains, undressed, and climbed into the lukewarm water. She scrubbed herself, though she had yet to get dirty since her last bath. When she emerged from the curtained area, garbed in a thin underdress, her mother held up a dress Bethany had never seen.

  “Cilia and I have been working on this since you returned. What do you think?” asked the queen.

  Bethany stared at the dress, trying to keep her emotions in check. It was the most beautiful gown Bethany had ever seen. The result was a mixture of girlish pleasure and guilt. What did she do to deserve such a gift?

  Bethany pushed the guilt down until she knew it wouldn’t show on her face and smiled at her mother.

  The dress was a rich wine color, with delicate gold stitching across the bodice. Rich gold cloth peaked out from under the thick skirting, accentuating the gold embroidery along the hem. Bethany stepped forward and allowed the women to dress her. She was then ushered to a chair and made to sit while her mother ordered the women around as they did Bethany’s hair up in braids.

  Finally, when Bethany was ready to squirm right off the chair, Debowrah declared her hair finished.

  “Now, just a few finishing touches,” said the queen as she lifted a delicately carved wooden box and flipped the lid open.

  Inside lay an opulent necklace of cut stones, diamonds, and rubies. Bethany felt a stab of remembrance as she stared at the gems. She quickly looked away.

  “I can’t wear that, Mother. That’s much too nice for me.”

  “What nonsense!” exclaimed the queen. “You’re a princess again. No more rags and leather breaches for you.”

  “Please Mother,” Bethany whispered, still staring at the floorboards of her room.

  “Umm.
I think I can handle it from here ladies. Cilia, you better go get ready for tonight, too. Go help Cilia,” the queen added to the servants.

  When the room was empty Debowrah pulled a stool up to Bethany’s side and sat down.

  “Now, what is all this about?”

  Bethany still couldn’t look at her mother or the ostentatious necklace.

  “The necklace just reminds me of something… please, Mother, please don’t make me wear it.”

  The queen seemed to contemplate the situation for a moment before snapping the lid shut.

  “All right, how about a nice gold chain? Very simple.”

  Bethany nodded, feeling the tension ease from her chest. Her mother scurried from the room and returned a few minutes later with the simplest gold necklace she owned. She gently looped it around Bethany’s neck before placing a delicate gold ringlet on the princess’ head, hiding most of the little crown in Bethany’s braided hair.

  “There, how’s that?” Debowrah asked as she nudged Bethany to look into the mirror.

  Bethany couldn’t tell her mother that she didn’t recognize her own reflection, and so she forced her lips up into a smile and nodded. “Perfect, Mother. Thank you.”

  “I better go get ready myself,” said the queen. “No running off now.”

  Bethany obediently sat in her room, staring out the one small window that faced south, watching the sun near the distant trees. Despite her best efforts, her thoughts continually ran to Erin. By now the knight would be nearing the boarder, especially without a woman to slow him down. She wondered how his injuries were healing.

  She reached back to feel her side where her long gash was still healing. Even with the healer’s salve it would be weeks before the itching and irritation of healing would stop. No doubt Erin’s shredded back from the whip would take even longer with her not there to tend it.

  Bethany’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door. She felt a genuine smile pull on her lips when she spotted Obadyah, her other brother, poke his head into her room.

  “Thought I’d find you here,” he said with a smirk. Obadyah crossed the room and perched himself on a chest of drawers next to where Bethany sat. “Enjoying the view?”

  Bethany smiled again. Obadyah was one of the few family members who didn’t make her feel as though she was being watched by a nursemaid. He acted as though he actually wanted to come visit her, even though Bethany was sure he had been sent.

  “It’s a beautiful view,” Bethany said when she realized he was waiting for a response.

  “Yes, it is, though I bet you saw some sights on your journey. How far into Wolfric’s land did you get before you escaped?”

  Bethany sighed. “Please, Ob. I can’t talk about that. Not yet, anyway.”

  Obadyah shrugged. “You’re gonna have to eventually, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “When you’re ready…”

  “I’ll come find you.”

  Obadyah nodded once. “Maybe in a day or two I can talk Ma into letting me take you riding. You’ve been too cooped up!”

  Bethany smiled at her older brother. Obadyah was in his early twenties, and grateful to be the younger son of the king, may he rest in peace. Though he had lands a plenty, Obadyah had never shown any signs of wanting to settle down. Bethany remembered him begging his father to allow him to join the army. Ob would never be satisfied until he had seen the world.

  She didn’t respond, unwilling to lie to her brother, but the fact was Bethany doubted her mother would allow her to venture out of the castle for a very long time. Bethany tried to see it from her mother’s perspective, but all she could think about was how badly she wanted a little freedom.

  Before she could think of something to say, Obadyah jumped to his feet.

  “Probably time for us to make an appearance,” he said a she held out his arm for her.

  Bethany looped her hand through his arm and allowed him to lead her out to the main staircase. Her mother and brother awaited them, dressed in their very best. She saw Gilead staring at her, a frown pulling on his brows. No doubt he knew their mother had intended her to wear a different necklace.

  Thankfully, the young king didn’t say anything but instead turned and nodded to the herald. Gilead offered his arm to their mother and descended the steps at the sound of the herald’s voice. Bethany did her best to close her ears from the loud man’s voice. Despite her best efforts, her mind ran to the last time she’d entered a room to the sound of a herald’s voice.

  She had been on Erin’s arm, walking into a room full of her enemies to inform them that she would be their next queen. The emotional turmoil of that evening was nothing compared to what she felt now. These were her people, and yet she didn’t feel safe with them. Erin had been her enemy in that distant memory, but now he was the only person she wanted to be around, and the only person that made her feel sheltered.

  Bethany blinked furiously, trying to dry the sudden moisture from her eyes. Her mother would be angry with her if she appeared before the court with puffy eyes.

  “Bethany?” Ob asked from her side.

  No doubt he felt her hand shaking.

  “I’m fine,” she said, sounding breathy even to her own ears.

  “Before you know it, this night will be a distant memory.”

  Bethany felt her lips pull up into a faint smile. Her brother meant well, even if he didn’t fully understand her struggles. She squeezed his arm in gratitude but kept her mouth shut.

  They descended the steps and walked through the wide double doors. Bethany forced her face to remain relaxed as she took in the masses of people. A narrow path had been left for them to walk up to the dais, but Bethany could tell it had required their guests to press against each other to clear the space. Bethany felt herself bumping into Ob to keep from touching the admiring on-lookers.

  The princess forced herself to breathe slowly as panic began to threaten her chest.

  Too many people. Too many faces staring at her.

  They’re smiling, she had to remind herself repeatedly as they made their way to the dais. They’re not looking at you as a foreigner. They’re happy you’re here!

  Bethany’s self-encouragement did little to settle her nerves. Her knees were still shaking when Obadyah deposited her on her throne. Her brother took his own seat on the next level up. Bethany smiled down at her older sister who, being married was not allowed to enter with the royal family. Beside Mara, the eldest princess, sat her husband Josef. Surrounding them sat their seven children, perched on little cushions. When Bethany married, she would remove to the lower level with her sister and Josef.

  Bethany shuddered at the thought of marriage. It would be some time before they forced that upon her.

  Bethany stared down at her older sister. Since her return home, she had not been able to spend more than a minute or two with Mara each day. Seven children, and another on the way, kept her too busy for socializing, especially as the family would be returning to their own home in the morning. Josef was eager to get back to his own keep in Carthind. The princess frowned at her sister, who was busy disengaging two children from an argument. Her sister looked thinner than she had a year ago, despite the protrusion of her stomach. Dark circles lined her usually vibrant eyes.

  Bethany pushed her eyes to Josef, her brother-in-law. Why wasn’t he giving her a break from child-bearing? Her body was giving out.

  The princess pulled her attention away from her sister, afraid her face would show the disapproval she felt. Bethany’s eyes moved across the crowd, her anxiety returning with each new face that stared up at her.

  Why can’t they just leave me alone or, better yet, put me to work?

  Bethany was weary of trying to find things to do during her day. Was this what her life had been like before her journey? She suddenly decided she didn’t like it. She wanted more. She wanted a duty, a task, a plan.

  Before Bethany could consider her needs any further, the king rose to his feet
and raised a hand for silence. The crowd slowly settled down and waited for him to speak.

  “We are gathered to honor our beloved sister, Princess Bethany, who has returned to us from the grave.”

  Bethany kept her gaze on her brother, unwilling to look out over the crowd.

  “Stand up,” hissed her mother, barely moving her lips.

  Bethany obeyed, still doing her best not look at the crowd.

  Gilead beamed down at her while the crowd cheered. Bethany wondered if they were happy to have the youngest princess returned or if they were simply excited for an opportunity to revel at the king’s expense. The king held up his hand again, and the crowd eventually settled into a moody silence.

  “And it is our greatest pleasure to announce that Princess Bethany will be accepting suitors.”

  Bethany felt her breath catch in her chest as she fell back into her seat. He couldn’t be serious. She hadn’t even been home a week. She could barely endure a family dinner, and as she sat with hundreds of people Bethany struggled to maintain even the appearance of a calm. How could they expect her to marry into some strange family?

  She refused to think about what marriage would mean in other respects. She couldn’t. If she did, she would go running from the room. Bethany would consider those ramifications later, much later.

  Bethany glanced over at her mother. From Debowrah’s expression, Bethany suspected the announcement came as a surprise to her as well, though she was trying to hide it. Slowly, Ob reached over and squeezed her hand. Her brother wore a broad smile, though Bethany could see murder burning his brown eyes.