The Dothan Chronicles: The Complete Trilogy

by Charissa Dufour

  “Go ahead and make that announcement at the end of work tonight.”

  “If…” Brid began before hesitation. “If I could have a man or two to dig pits, we could roast a pig outside. Make an event of it.”

  “Roasting pits would be useful for more than just the one event, especially as the castle population grows.”

  “You think that’ll happen with all the whores gone?” asked Cred.

  “Well, we’ll just have to get these men married properly.”

  Lyolf shrugged, not too worried about the men’s marital status. “If you two will keep your ears to the ground, I’d appreciate it. These men are angry, angrier than a bit of hard work would make them. See if you can learn what bur is in their shoes.”

  Cred and Brid nodded before digging into their food.

  Chapter Six

  Bethany woke early from another bad dream. Once she had relaxed back into her reality, she breathed a sigh of relief as she realized her screams had not awakened her mother. Bethany scrambled out of bed and dressed in her leather trousers and tunic. Her mother believed the garments had been destroyed, but Bethany had secreted them away under her mattress. Thus far, Bethany had not felt brave enough to don her trousers again, but based on the dark gray sky she assumed she had a couple hours of freedom before any family member might catch her.

  Bethany reveled in the freedom of her old clothing as she tugged her leather vest on over her tunic. Though she didn’t think it would be prudent to strap her sword to her hip—due to the continued ban on weapons—she did slip her dagger into her boot.

  She raced down the servants stairs, snatched a roll from the morning cook—who playfully swatted at Bethany with her spoon—and charged out into the bailey. Taking a deep breath of the cool morning air, Bethany jogged across the bailey to where she knew there had been a small, secret exit through the castle walls. She had used the secret passage with her brothers on many occasions to sneak away from their duties within the castle. To her surprise, the passage was still open. She had assumed Gilead, in his paranoia, would have blocked it.

  Crawling on her belly, Bethany made her way through the tiny hole. As a child it had been plenty large, but as an adult she found she could barely fit. Finally, when she thought she was going to panic, she slipped out the other end. The exit came out behind an unusually large healer’s hut. The healers living within this hut worked in the castle as well as the immediate neighborhood. Bethany dusted off her old clothing before jogging to the market.

  She had no specific plans, but simply wanted to enjoy a few hours of freedom from her mother’s critical gaze.

  On foot it took Bethany half an hour to reach the city’s large central marketplace. Venders were already pulling their wares out and displaying them across their tables. Bethany walked around, eyeing the different wares and smiling at the people.

  They didn’t know who the strange woman was, striding around in trousers and smiling at everyone, but she didn’t bother them so they didn’t care.

  Their lack of interest gave Bethany the liberty she so badly craved, and allowed her to meander without fear of recognition. Granted, she doubted any of them suspected the long-lost princess would be walking between their stalls.

  Bethany didn’t spend long at the market, but turned toward the gates when she heard the sound of them opening for the day. Again, she jogged down the filling streets, enjoying the feeling of physical exertion. She hadn’t realized how confining her mother’s watchfulness had become until she experienced a reprieve.

  The princess trotted past the guards with a grin on her face. Like the people in the market, the guards had no idea they had just allowed a princess to slip past them. Bethany continued to run until she found a small thicket tucked between two farms. Inside the protection of the copse, Bethany selected a tree and began to climb, not stopping until she reached the very top.

  On the highest branch still sturdy enough to hold her weight, Bethany perched, staring out over her land. She was home, and it hadn’t changed a bit. The only problem was that she had change; she had endured suffering that had, before her journey, been nothing more than an abstract concept. Now it was a reality etched into her very skin.

  Bethany settled down onto the branch, dangling a leg on either side and leaning her back against the tree’s mighty trunk. From her perch Bethany watched the sun finish rising in a splash of red and orange. Her thoughts drifted to Erin, as they often did, and for once she didn’t fight it. Instead, she took her moment of freedom to bask in her memories. It had been Erin who insisted she learn to climb trees. At the time he had said it was to help her gain strength, but Bethany now realized it did a lot more than build muscles. It had provided her an escape from wild animals should it ever be necessary. Bethany wondered why she had never thought of it before.

  Slowly, Bethany’s eyes drooped until she settled into a light doze, enjoying the feel of the warm morning sun on her skin.

  Bethany woke with a start, nearly tumbling off of her chosen perch. She blinked furiously, feeling more refreshed from her dreamless nap than she had since returning home eleven days ago.

  Has it really been less than two weeks?

  Bethany let her gaze run across the Dothan Valley, absently noting the position of the sun. She had slept for at least a couple of hours. Suddenly alert, Bethany scrambled down the tree and took to a fast run. She sprinted all the way back to the castle, only slowing to a trot when she neared the gatehouse. A stitch in her side reminded her just how out of shape her two weeks of being a lady had made her.

  The princess jogged through the city, right up to the main gate of the castle, completely forgetting about her secret passage in her need to get back before she was discovered. The guards watched her scurry through the gate, obviously recognizing her. Bethany didn’t realize this meant the guards were alerted to her absence until she skidded to a stop in the middle of the bailey and eyed the small group standing on the steps.

  Bethany couldn’t hear what they were saying over the sound of men practicing swordplay, but the looks on their faces when they turned and saw her suggested they had been discussing her untimely absence.

  “Bethany!” cried her mother, anger masking her usually calm façade. “What is the meaning of this?” asked her mother as she marched to Bethany’s side and motioned toward Bethany’s clothing.

  Gilead and the men followed the queen mother down to where Bethany stood.

  Bethany hung her head, more in an effort to meet her mother’s expectation than any feeling of guilt. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  “Come, Mother. Leave her be,” said the king, half suggesting, half ordering.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” said their mother in an effort to obey the king but not allow her daughter to escape chastisement.

  “Come along, lil sis,” Gilead said, draping his arm over her shoulder and directing her away from their mother in an effort to shield her.

  Bethany willingly followed her brother over to where the men were working. In an effort to distract herself from her mother’s ire, she focused on their movements with the critical eye Erin had given her through hours of instruction and numerous occasions where she had to fight for her life.

  “They rely on their strength too much,” she said before she could control herself.

  Bethany felt more than saw the men turn to stare. She swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed her gaze down to the ground.

  Gilead chuckled and gave her braid a gentle tug. “Women,” he said with a smirk to the other men.

  The others joined him in laughter, making Bethany blush with anger rather than embarrassment. She was right, and she wanted to prove it to them, but proving herself right would simply produce more questions. As they watched the nearest duo, a large man gave a mighty swing, and when it didn’t connect with his opponent, stumbled forward.

  “See?” Bethany growled, again berating herself for speaking when she knew she needed to stay quiet.

  “Wha
t do you know about fighting?” chuckled Gilead.

  “More than he does.”

  The man in question glared at her before averting his gaze as he suddenly realized she was the princess.

  “Lil sis, why don’t you leave the war to the men and go back to your embroidery.”

  Bethany glowered at her brother for a moment before stomping out into the field of battle. She snatched the wooden practice sword from the man who had not taken a tumble and turned toward the large brute. He was a little bigger than Erin, but not by much. She gave him a small signal to proceed.

  The large man stared at her for a second before turning to look at the king. Gilead shrugged.

  “Well?” Bethany asked, tinting her voice with as much derision as she could muster.

  She saw the man’s large eyes turn to look at her, suddenly filled with contempt. He oriented his bulk toward her and hunched down, ready to fight. Bethany took a deep breath and settled into her own stance, Erin’s advice still ringing in her ears.

  The large man attacked half-heartedly, swinging idly at her shoulder. Bethany took a few quick steps, blocked his blow, and drove the hilt of her sword into his gut. He doubled over and grunted.

  “Ready to take this seriously?” she asked as the man took a step away from her.

  He stood up, his face reddened with anger and embarrassment. The burly man settled himself again, preparing to concentrate. Bethany waited before cutting in to test his reflexes. They were faster than she had expected, but not by much. She took a slight graze across the shoulder. The man grinned at her and she grinned back.

  She might have taken a blow, but she had also learned enough about him to win in the end.

  It didn’t take long before she slipped past his defenses and pinned her wooden sword across his neck.

  “Again?” she asked as he panted.

  “My turn,” said the soldier the big man had been originally fighting.

  Bethany smiled at him, waited for him to retrieve a practice sword, and hunched down to enjoy another duel. The two of them danced around each other, cutting in and ducking away from each other’s attacks. Bethany felt a smile spread across her lips as sweat began to trickle down her back. It was a joy to work her body again.

  This duel took a little longer, but in the end, the muscled man tried to use his strength against her. She dodged a blow and he overbalanced himself, landing in a sprawl in the dust. Bethany stepped up to him and gently placed the tip of her sword against his spine.

  “Speed always wins over muscle,” she said, quoting Erin.

  Bethany reached down and helped the man up, a happy smile on her face. She handed him the sword and prepared to rejoin her family when she turned to look at them. Her mother, brother, and all his advisors stared at her as though she had just stripped naked in front of them.

  Before anyone could turn their expressions into words, a messenger ran up to the king.

  Bethany rolled her eyes. Saved by the messenger, yet again, she thought.

  Gilead took the letter and turned toward the keep. Bethany, her mother, and the advisors followed him as he read through the letter’s content.

  “How ‘bout that,” he said, more to himself than anyone else as they trudged up the steps of the keep.

  “What?” asked the queen.

  “It’s from Wolfric. I told him Bethany has returned alive and well. I figured he had heard the rumor of her death, or rather disappearance…”

  “You told him about me?” interrupted Bethany.

  “Of course. If we intend to produce peace through these correspondences I have to share the news at our end of the world. He suggests not only I marry his daughter, but you marry his eldest son. How ‘bout that Bethany? Bethany?”

  The princess suddenly realized she had stopped in the doorway to the great hall. Bethany tried to relax and look nonchalant, but the longer she tried the more she felt her control slipping.

  “You can’t. Don’t make me marry Féderic,” she whispered.

  “How do you know his name?” asked one of the advisors.

  “Whatever is wrong, Bethany?” asked her mother at the same time.

  “I can’t,” whispered Bethany, unable to explain until she had the sought-after promise. “Don’t make me go back.”

  “Back?” asked Gilead. “How far north did you get when you were… you know?”

  Bethany swallowed, trying to regain moisture in her mouth. “Tolad.”

  “Tolad?”

  “What?”

  “How?”

  Gilead waved for silence. “Bethany, I know we have been raised to hate Wolfric and his kin, but it is our duty as royalty to do whatever we can to promote peace, even if it means marrying one of his offspring.”

  “NO!” yelled Bethany, anger taking over her fear. “I won’t do it! You can’t make me. I’ll-I’ll run away!”

  “Bethany!” snapped her mother.

  “You want to know where I’ve been? You want to know the whole story? Well here it is,” growled Bethany, turning on her mother, half-mad with fear. “I was sold to Féderic. I was the prince’s slave. It was under his orders, and the orders of the queen, that I was whipped and beaten. And when they figured out who I was, I became their captive and forced into an engagement with Féderic, even after I had once carried notes from him to his mistress.”

  Her audience stared wide-eyed as she finished her outburst.

  “Please, don’t make me go back there.”

  Bethany watched Gilead swallow before diverting his eyes from her.

  “We’ll just see how things work out,” he said, hedging away from any commitment one way or another.

  “I won’t,” barked Bethany before turning and running out of the great hall.

  She charged up the steps, ignoring the return of the stitch in her side, not stopping until she reached the stairwell leading up to the top of the southern tower. It was her secret hiding place, one she had returned to on numerous occasions.

  Bethany collapsed on the steps, only half aware that tears were streaming down her face. She gasped for breath, vaguely wondering what Erin would say if he saw her so out of breath. Had he been here, he would have sent her to run up and down the stone stairs until she couldn’t take another step.

  The real question though was what Erin would have said had he heard of Wolfric’s proposal. He would have snatched Bethany up and dragged her away from her family.

  No, that’s not true, her mind countered. He left me. He doesn’t care if Gilead sends me back to them. He’s gone.

  A fresh fountain of tears streamed silently down her cheeks.

  Erin may not have been there to take her away, but she could still run. She had the skills he had taught her. Though she wasn’t as skilled a hunter as Erin, she could put food on the fire. Bethany thought long and hard, considering the cave deep in the Whitecap Mountains where they had stayed so long ago. It would be such a simple life of survival.

  After much thought, Bethany decided it was a last-resort option. If Gilead insisted on sending her to Tolad, she would run for her life, right back to the cave she had once shared with Erin.

  Erin stared at the cave he had once shared with Bethany. With only one horse and one human, it felt unusually spacious and empty. Fresh snow began to fall as he stared at the dry space. He needed to settle Éimhin and gather a supply of wood if he hoped to have a fire tonight. He no longer had Bethany’s warm body pressed against him to keep away the night’s cold.

  The scarred knight forced his aching body into motion. He tended to his mighty steed before rummaging through the wet snow for firewood. He found some dry enough to use during the night and placed it in a pile separate from the wood he intended to dry out in the cave. Once he had a fire going he went about setting his traps.

  Erin went through the motions of setting up camp, only dimly aware of what his hands were doing. His mind was in some room in the Dothan castle, where Bethany sat, happily doing her sewing or eating fine food or gra
ciously helping the poor.

  A smile pulled at his scarred lips. She was happy, and though he wished her happiness depended more on himself than wealth, joy filled him at the thought of her safe and content.

  But what if she wasn’t safe? What if she wasn’t happy?

  You old fool, he thought as he mechanically tied a trap. You should have stayed close enough to check in on her. Make sure she’s okay.

  Of course she’s okay! argued the other half of his mind. She’s a princess now. She’s away from Wolfric and his bastard of a son. Leave well enough alone.

  Hours later, Erin settled onto the stone floor for sleep. Tomorrow he would need to gather pine boughs to use as bedding to save his ruined back. Even with the fire crackling merrily, Erin couldn’t settle into sleep. His mind kept turning over his choice in leaving Bethany.

  He missed her; he ached for her.

  She needed him to stay away, but he wasn’t sure he could do it. In the end, after the moon had started its downward trek toward morning, Erin decided that he might, just might, go back to Dothan.

  But only to make sure she is okay, he amended as he slowly drifted into sleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Bethany skirted around the group of men talking with her brother in the great hall to get to the long, trestle table where the royal family’s breakfast lay waiting for the late risers. She was dressed back in her lady-appropriate gowns. She even went so far as to allow Cilia to pin up her hair in a delicate array of curls. Bethany was doing everything she could to please her mother and brother in an attempt to sway them to her request.

  Demands more like it, she thought as she carried her plate to a table and sat down to eat.

  She wasn’t particularly hungry, having done nothing the day before other than embroider the hem of a gown and help her mother arrange supplies to be sent to a border village that had been attacked recently, but Bethany ate anyway. She knew that her mother would lecture her on the importance of each meal if she was not seen eating. Bethany pushed the food around her plate, making it look as though she had eaten more than she really had. After a year of near starvation, she couldn’t adjust to the plenty of castle life.