The Dothan Chronicles: The Complete Trilogy

by Charissa Dufour

Erin’s head jerked up. What was he talking about? Did Gilead mean him or something else?

  “I say, there’s an idea. Caldry, you knew Wolfric. Personally, I mean.”

  Erin cleared his throat. “I served him directly, yes.”

  “Excellent. He has contacted me in the hopes of negotiating a peace. He wants me to marry his daughter, uh…”

  “Mirabelle, my lord,” supplied one of his advisors.

  “Yes, Mirabelle. And he wants Bethany to marry Féderic. What do you think of this idea?”

  Erin struggled to control his expression. He felt the heat of rage building up to his face. His eyes flashed as he took in Bethany’s frozen posture. Had she not told them what Fed had done to her? They obviously knew enough of her story to know she had been Wolfric’s captive. Or did they just not care so long as her marriage brought about peace?

  “Well?” prompted the king.

  Erin swallowed the bile rising to his throat. “Forgive me, my lord. I was surprised by your question. Do I have your permission to speak freely?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  “Wolfric is a liar and a manipulator. What he offers you is not peace, but rather an absence of direct fighting. He will work at you from within. Your children will also be heirs to his throne. Distantly, I admit. But I doubt his ultimate goal is peace. His goal has always and will always be total domination of the peninsula. Besides, if we were discussing my sister, I would not give her into the hands of a man like Prince Féderic.”

  “Don’t like the prince?”

  “I don’t trust him.”

  Gilead nodded. “Thank you for your honesty. I’ll think on it a bit more.”

  Erin ground his teeth together, wanting to say more, but kept his mouth shut, fearing more words would have a reverse effect on the arrogant young man. It hadn’t taken Erin long to realize the young king knew more about building an ego than ruling a nation. He would just have to bide his time until he could talk to Bethany alone, and when that happened he would convince her to leave before her family could send her back to Tolad.

  Before the conversation could naturally shift away from the uncomfortable topic of arranged marriages, a messenger raced into the great hall, skidded to a stop beside the queen mother, and handed her a small note scribbled on a crumpled piece of paper.

  The queen read through it in a glance before looking up at her son, her eyes already glowing with unshed tears.

  “Sickness in Carthind. Mara’s dead.”

  Erin didn’t know who this Mara was, but one glance at Bethany suggested she was someone important. The rest of the group lowered their head, mumbling “long live the princess” under their breath. The scarred knight turned his eyes onto his new king.

  “Long live the princess,” said the king out loud. “Arrange for supplies and healers to be sent to Carthind with all haste.”

  A few men rose from their seats and left to obey the king’s command.

  Chapter Nine

  Bethany picked up her skirts and unceremoniously ran down the long flight of stairs and out into the bailey. The city’s bells were ringing a deep note not usually heard. Something unusual was happening at the city gates. Bethany spotted Erin jogging from the direction of the stables.

  During the five days since Erin’s arrival in Dothan they had yet to speak in private. Erin looked out of place prowling around her home. He was part of a different chapter in her life, a different sphere of people unknown to her family. Bethany felt a wave of confusion every time she saw him where he did not belong. She realized it would take a long time before she grew accustomed to seeing him in her family’s keep.

  Bethany turned her attention back to the castle gatehouse as Erin came to a stop a few feet away from her. The bailey was a public enough place to not cause suspicion by their close proximity. It wasn’t long before a few of the other nobles joined them, waiting for word to travel from the city gates to the castle. Another moment brought the king out of the castle and down to where their group was waiting.

  Something close to an eternity passed before the messenger stumbled through the gatehouse, his sides heaving. He handed his note to the nearest guard and collapsed on the ground. Erin jogged to his side and knelt, pulling his legs straight to assist in breathing. The knight proceeded to rub the over-taxed muscles of the messenger’s legs.

  Meanwhile, the guard brought the message to the king.

  “Refugees from Savra. Village destroyed,” Gilead said, reading the brief message aloud. “What am I to do with a bunch of refugees?”

  Bethany flinched at the whining tone her brother’s voice. She glanced around, noticing that his advisors were shuffling their feet and rubbing the back of their necks. Gilead had already proven his ability to shift from one mood to another in a heartbeat. His advisors had quickly lost their willingness to speak out beyond the most basic advice.

  “What do you mean, what do you do?” she demanded, fully willing to take on his anger.

  Gilead glared down at her when Bethany took his arm and marched him a few feet away from the other nobles.

  “Gilead,” she snapped as quietly as her anger would allow. “Those are your people out there. They are cold, hungry, and frightened. I would bet most of them have lost family members in the attack. They have nowhere to go and no one to turn to… except their king,” she added, emphasizing her brother’s title. “Now act like their king.”

  “And do what?” demanded Gilead, more angry than annoyed now that she had called him out.

  “Bring them into the castle. Provide them food, a safe place to sleep. Then start finding them positions in the city.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that?”

  Bethany glared at her brother, furious with his timid self-centeredness. “Just give the word to send them up to the castle. I’ll deal with the rest,” she growled before jogging to the keep.

  Bethany glanced over her shoulder to make sure her brother was obeying her orders. To her relief, he was marching to the gatehouse. As she trotted up the steps to the keep’s main door, her mother appeared.

  “Refugees have arrived from Savra. The village is destroyed,” explained Bethany. “We need to get ready for their arrival. Will you inform the kitchen while I run down to the healer’s hut?”

  Debowrah stared at her daughter for a second, a look of pride spreading across her features. Finally, she nodded once and turned to get to work. Bethany didn’t wait to make sure her mother was working. She knew Debowrah had dealt with refugees plenty of times during the long war.

  Bethany turned back and began to run across the bailey, once again lifting her skirts above her ankles to reveal her hardened boots.

  “Where are you going?” demanded her brother when she began to cross through the gatehouse.

  “We’ll need healers.”

  “Caldry, go with her,” ordered Gilead, completely forgetting his injunction concerning the new knight.

  Erin nodded once and quickly caught up with her shorter strides. They had barely made the first turn, taking them out of sight, when Erin grabbed her hand, pulling her to a stop.

  Bethany’s heart fluttered against her ribs as she suddenly realized she was truly alone with Erin for the first time.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, worry bringing his brows together.

  “I’m okay,” she said, clutching his rough fingers to emphasis her words. “Not great, but okay. Trust me, I want to talk, but we must hurry.”

  Erin nodded once and followed her at a fast walk down the path to the large building where the healers resided. Bethany rapped on the door with her knuckles hard enough to make herself wince. It was a long moment before the door opened. Healer Pharem poked his head through the slight opening, his eyes looking puffy from a lack of sleep. Bethany guessed he had been up late with a birth or an emergency.

  “Princess Bethany,” he said with a few blinks to clear the sleep from his eyes.

  “Refugees from Savra have arrived at the city gates. They’re
being brought up to the castle. We need your healers.”

  Pharem nodded once, suddenly alert with the new need for his skills. He closed the door on their faces, but Bethany trusted the middle-aged man to come to the castle as soon as he could muster his troops. She turned and jogged back to the castle, Erin hot on her heels.

  She felt his eyes on her as she worked her way through the throng of people gathering in the bailey. Bethany spotted the castle’s steward, Tomas, and raced to his side.

  “Princess Bethany, your mother sent me to find you. She’s busy in the kitchen and said you were in charge,” said Tomas.

  Bethany didn’t give herself a chance to feel unnerved by her sudden authority.

  “Food is being dealt with. The healers are on their way up. We’ll need a place to put them all for the night.”

  “How many?” asked the steward.

  “I don’t know, but I’d guess at least a hundred. The village was no more than three hundred in number last I heard. I doubt more than a third got away, much less survived the passage over the mountains.”

  Bethany glanced up at Erin for his opinion. He gave her a nod.

  “A hundred?” squeaked the steward. “Where will we put them all? We don’t have rooms for a hundred guests.”

  Bethany sighed, forcing herself to remember that he was young and new to his post. The old steward, who had died sometime during her disappearance, had been well-accustomed to handling refugees.

  “They’re not guests, Tomas, they’re refugees. We’ll put them in the great hall for the night. Remove all but two of the trestle tables. Those place near the wall for dishing out food.”

  “They’re to sleep on the floor?” asked the steward.

  “They’re going to be happy just to be indoors. Now get moving!”

  The steward bowed and raced off, frightened by the force in her voice. Bethany looked up to see Erin smiling down at her.

  “What?” she demanded more sharply than she had intended.

  His smile increased. “I’d forgotten, that’s all.”

  “Forgotten what?”

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “How enchanting you can be.”

  Bethany felt a shiver run down her spine as his breath tickled her neck. Something had happened to Erin. He was different. The change was subtle, but she knew him well enough to see the small change in him. He looked at her differently, and though this wasn’t the first time he’d called her “enchanting” it was the most intimate.

  Bethany swallowed, forcing her confusion to the back of her mind. She needed to focus on the issues at hand rather than on him, and how he made her feel. She could think about that later.

  “Bethany,” called her brother. “I’m increasing the guard to keep this rabble in check.”

  “Fine, but keep them out of the way. These are frightened victims, not criminals. Keep your guards to the outskirts so that they reassure rather than cause more fear.”

  Gilead glared at her for a second before nodding. He didn’t like taking orders from his little sister, but Bethany couldn’t bring herself to care if she offended him. She would deal with that once everyone was fed and clothed.

  “Many of them will be needing clothing,” she said aloud as the thought crossed her mind.

  Bethany turned to look out over the bailey. A large number of nobles were loitering about, enjoying the spectacle of the servants running around as though they were chickens without heads. Bethany placed her hands on her hips and swallowed a great breath.

  “All of you not working,” she bellowed at the top of her lungs. “Either find something useful to do or return to your rooms.”

  The princess waited to watch her words take effect, but quickly noticed that though the nobles had heard her, they had assumed her words did not include them.

  “That includes nobility,” she snapped. “The guards will be escorting you to your rooms if you remain.”

  This got the effect she had been waiting for. Most of the loiterers scurried up the stairs and disappeared into the keep, no doubt to congregate in the rooms facing the bailey to continue their gawking. She noticed a few pick some random item up and begin walking about with a look of purpose about them. She would deal with them later. For now, her announcement had cleared the worst of the congestion.

  “Caldry, deal with the guards for me, then come find me. I’ll stay out of the way,” added Gilead before quickly running away.

  “Make sure the guards clear that we do not suspect these people. They are our guests,” said Bethany.

  It was a long time before the refugees stumbled their way up to the castle, and yet not long enough for Bethany to work through the necessary preparations. With the help of the under-stewards, she ushered the ninety-seven men, women, and children into the great hall. Servants were still hauling great loads of hay into the hall for the refugees to sleep on. Other servants were draping blankets over the hay piles, while yet more servants were carrying large pots of thin soup up to the trestle tables.

  Pharem and three healers arrived long after Bethany had begun to look for them. She had already run her eyes over the refugees, and quickly pointed them to the most injured. When the queen finally made her way up from the kitchen, she stopped in the doorway and scanned the masses shifting around the room.

  Bethany bit down on her lower lip, wondering if she had overstepped her boundaries or done something wrong. The queen crossed to where she stood.

  “Looks like you have everything under control. Are there many wounded?” asked the queen.

  Bethany released the breath she had unconsciously been holding. “Yes. Many. And the healers just recently arrived. Plus there is a pregnant woman. She says she is near her time, but hasn’t felt any pains yet.”

  “It’s a wonder she even made it here alive.”

  Bethany nodded. “I used some of the clothing allocated for Carthind for those in the most need of new garments.”

  “Excellent.”

  “And Tomas is going around collecting their information, name, age, size of family, number lost, and occupation.”

  “Good idea. Hopefully many of them can find occupations here, what with so many young men in the army.”

  Bethany nodded.

  “Princess Bethany,” called one of the healers from across the room.

  Bethany and the queen walked over to where the man stood, towering over a young girl. Bethany suspected the girl was eight or nine years old, despite the fact she was unusually small. Her brown hair was matted against her head and her cheeks were sunken with near starvation. Her clothing was in tatters, barely covering her. Bethany glanced down her feet. At least two toes would be lost to frostbite. Bethany felt her stomach drop into her knees.

  “Yes?” Bethany asked before the girl could notice her scrutiny.

  “She won’t talk, my lady, and none of these women claim her.”

  “She don’t talk none,” said a woman sitting on the next pile of hay, openly nursing her child. “Never heard her talk meself.”

  “Where are her parents?” asked Bethany.

  “Never knew her ma. Her pa were killed in the attack, my lady.”

  Bethany squatted down in front of the little girl, absently noticing that her lovely gown was ruined with stains and tears from her day of hard work.

  “Hello. I’m Princess Bethany. What’s your name?” Bethany asked without expecting an answer.

  The girl stared at her for a moment before looking down at her dirty fingers. Bethany looked up at the nursing mother.

  “Sevar. Least wise that’s what her pa said when they moved to Savra.”

  “Sevar. It’s very nice to meet you.”

  Bethany held out her hand. The child tentatively placed her fingers into Bethany’s hand and allowed them to be shaken. Bethany looked up at her audience, finally resting her eyes on the servant who had been assigned to fetch and carry for the healer.

  “Will you get me some warm water? And has Sevar been fed yet? No? Then
get her some soup too.”

  The servant ran off, quickly obeying the princess’ orders.

  “I’ll keep things moving along,” offered the queen, leaving Bethany with the small child. “You should take a little rest here, Bethany.”

  “We’ll need to deal with those toes,” grunted the healer.

  Bethany glared up at the healer, conveying his stupidity in one swift glance. The child looked up at her, her eyes growing wide with fright. Bethany brushed her hair out of her face.

  “You see, Sevar, some of your toes are hurt because of the cold. We’re going to have to take care of them, but don’t worry. You’ll be asleep, you won’t feel a thing. I promise.”

  The servant raced back, arriving with a pail of warm water, a cloth, and a comb. Bethany smiled at the woman, appreciating the servant’s wisdom. Unlike the healer, this woman understood the child’s real need. She needed someone to love on her a little, to calm her fears before the healer started pulling out his knives.

  “Healer, why don’t you go see to some other patients. You can come back to us in half an hour or so. Oh, and leave your bottle, some poppy seeds, and some valerian.”

  The healer glared down at her.

  “Is there a problem?” she asked in a sweet yet commanding voice she had learned from her mother.

  “I’ll leave it for now, but I’ll be talking with Healer Pharem right away.”

  “I think that is an excellent idea.”

  The healer placed a few pouches and a bottle next to Bethany’s feet and scurried off to find Pharem. Bethany turned back to the little girl, eyeing the child’s hair.

  “How about we get you cleaned up, eh?” Bethany asked.

  She took up the rag, dipped it in the water, and began gently rubbing the girl’s tiny fingers. Slowly, Sevar relaxed into Bethany’s touch, or she did until Bethany picked up the comb. Bethany spent a few long minutes tugging at the tangles. Sevar gave a few squeaks of a pain, proving that her silence was not due to any damage to her throat. Finally, Bethany gave up.

  “Sevar, what say you to a haircut?”

  Sevar stared up at her for a second, her eyes occasionally flicking to the comb, before giving a firm nod.