Villain's Assistant

by Carley Hibbert

  The sky awoke into violent pinks and fiery oranges above her. The birds stopped chirping in reverence to the rising sun. She breathed her heartache out to the morning light, praying that she could leave it here by this campfire to haunt the mountains alongside the wolves that cried to the moon at night.

  THIRTY TWO

  Benjamin awoke to the morning sun filtering through the door, barely touching the spot where Denny had slept the night before. Benjamin wrapped up his blanket, packed his gear, and pulled out some strips of dried meat. Rebecca met him with a cup of hot water.

  “It’s not much, but it will help warm you.” Rebecca’s cheery voice didn’t quite ring true.

  Benjamin thanked her and glanced at Denny, who sat looking at his own cup of steaming water, his shoulders slumped.

  “Rough night,” Benjamin said, standing by the smoldering embers of the night’s fire. He wrapped his hands around the warm cup and scooted his toes closer to the white ash that still held some heat. He remembered the extra pair of Denny’s socks in his pocket and handed them over, but Denny just let the socks fall to the ground and said nothing.

  Benjamin glanced at Rebecca as she hiked off with all their waterskins. He sipped his warm water that tasted of damp wood. The jerky was tougher to chew in the frosty air.

  + + +

  Benjamin stopped to take a drink and looked back at Rebecca as she struggled up the mountain. She seemed distant and unusually quiet this morning. Well, that was to be expected, as she got closer to the castle. She was about to become a princess in fact and not just in memory.

  Benjamin wiped the sweat from his eyes, in order to examine Denny, who was leaving them farther and farther behind. While Denny didn’t care about Benjamin’s comfort, it was unusual for him to ignore Rebecca’s. She was breathing heavily as she leaned against a rock and guzzled from her waterskin. Sweat dripped from her cap. Benjamin picked up a rock to judge its weight. If he threw it hard enough, would he be able to hit Denny with it? But Benjamin’s arms felt too much like jelly. Besides, he thought, that’d probably only provoke Denny into a fight—one I would definitely lose.

  “Denny is going to kill us before we get there,” Benjamin said, letting the rock slip from his fingers. “If he keeps up this pace, I mean.”

  “I think he’s just ready for this to be over,” she said through panting breath, squeezing her eyes closed in pain.

  They didn’t stop again until they reached the top of the pass. Denny was waiting for them, his blue eyes blazing in his flushed face. The trail they followed had petered out into several rambling game trails. Denny had cut through in a straight line to the top. Benjamin and Rebecca had done their best just to keep him in sight.

  Rebecca collapsed against a rock and wiped her face on her sleeve, unable to catch her breath. Benjamin’s fingers felt thick and clumsy as he tried to open his waterskin, but a trickle of energy returned to him as he drank. Rebecca’s face was ashen and slick with sweat. Dark circles hung under her eyes.

  Benjamin started to get up, but Denny waved him off and went to her aid. He got her pack off and opened her waterskin for her. He wet a rag and gently placed it on the back of her neck. She looked a little green. Benjamin closed his eyes, no longer needing to worry about her. All the while, Denny murmured gently to her. Benjamin couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like an apology as Denny fanned her with her cap.

  THIRTY THREE

  When Rebecca’s color returned and her breathing steadied, Denny pulled out the map. He spread it on a table-like rock to study it, casting glances below him. Benjamin’s legs felt like raw dough, but he crossed over to check on Rebecca, who was slowly chewing an apple. She opened her eyes as he approached and nodded that she was fine. Benjamin rewet the cloth wrapped around Rebecca’s neck and then joined Denny, whose face had returned to its natural color.

  Together they found their location on the map and looked for a way down. No visible path existed to the castle, so they’d probably have to pick their own way through the rocks. It was a shorter distance down but much steeper.

  Denny pointed out a route below them that he thought would work best. “I think once we get past that outcropping, we should be able to see some sign of the castle or at least the main road below,” he said. “If not, we’ll know we strayed too far.”

  Benjamin looked over at Rebecca, who looked wilted, though most of her color had returned. She had finished her apple and was resting with her waterskin in her lap. Benjamin nodded in her direction. “Maybe you should check it out first?”

  Denny nodded curtly, and Benjamin flinched. He hadn’t wanted his suggestion to sound like a reprimand, but it had. Ducking his head, he slid down next to Rebecca. Denny flung his waterskin over his shoulder and strode away. Benjamin sighed and closed his eyes. There wasn’t much in the way of shade up here.

  “Everything okay?” Rebecca peeked out one eye.

  “Just dandy. Denny went to look for the best way down. We don’t want to backtrack.”

  Rebecca agreed weakly and then apologized for Denny.

  “He’s not your fault,” Benjamin said. Feeling any better?”

  “Fine. Just tired.”

  He adjusted his cap to shield the sun from his face and took inventory of the aches and pains that had welled up under his fatigue. Where did Denny get his drive so far into their journey? Benjamin shouldn’t complain. They would still be climbing right now if some sort of demon hadn’t taken hold of Denny this morning.

  Benjamin jerked his head up at the sound of heavy tread approaching. He blinked the sleep from his head as Denny jogged toward them. He looked pleased but grimaced for a moment as he eyed Rebecca. “I found a trail below—and a patrol.”

  “Is the patrol coming up or going down?” Rebecca asked, standing stiffly.

  Denny grabbed her pack and emptied some of her gear into his pack and handed it back. Rebecca did not complain.

  “They were headed back down. Did you want to catch them?” He looked over his shoulder. “Or I could?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “We’ll be there soon enough. When we get there, I’ll have to declare myself.”

  Denny snapped his head forward and set a gentle pace. They followed silently, keeping an eye on the steep drop.

  How could they convince King Aldo to cross the boundary? King Zavier set that boundary in a treaty with the archvillain Val the Foul. The land west of the Sunset Mountains and Waldren’s Wood would belong to the thieves. That decision changed the fabric of the country, tore it in half. But had there really been peace since the treaty? The only way that would happen was by ending the archvillain’s reign.

  Benjamin had slowed so much that Rebecca asked Denny to wait for him. He tried to drink away the sick feeling in his stomach.

  They found the trail and followed it down to a stone hut just large enough to house a handful of men through a snowstorm. A soldier wearing the gray and blue of King Aldo stepped out and stretched. His eyes fell on them, locking him in a strange pose before Rebecca could step in front of Denny. She removed her cap, tousled her hair, and stood with more regal power than such a taxing trip should allow.

  “I am Princess Reyna Brynn Rae Ulmer, daughter of Prince Evan and niece to the king.” She raised her chin. “I believe King Aldo is expecting me.”

  At this, the guard’s eyes widened, and he nearly fell over. He fumbled with the horn on his belt and then sounded three short bursts, bringing another guard from inside. This new guard’s uniform was disheveled, and he had porridge on his chin. He nearly dropped his sword when he saw the three bedraggled youths standing at his doorstep.

  Rebecca sighed and then reminded them it was customary to bow to a princess.

  THIRTY FOUR

  Rebecca wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or enraged that her reunion with Aldo was delayed. She was dropped at the foot of some clerk while the king was in conference with his nobles.

  He flicked a bored eye over her ill-fitting britches and ragged cloak. He th
en sneered at her dirty hair that would no longer lay flat. Yet she held herself all the more proudly. She hadn’t seen her uncle in years. She doubted he would recognize her even if she were dressed as a princess.

  She silenced Benjamin when he offered to explain things to the clerk, who inspected the underling smugly. The worn state of the clerk’s cuffs suggested he wasn’t important. His wiry fingers tugged at his cap. He motioned to her to speak. The clerk blotted his quill and then smoothed the paper. Silence filled the room. Benjamin cleared his throat, while Denny examined the ends of his cloak, both glancing at her sideways.

  This is ridiculous! she raged silently. Her heart pounded in her chest. She was not about to give this nobody any piece of the story that had kept her alive for more years than this underling had worked in the castle. She dropped her pack loudly to the floor and pressed both fists into her hips. Both boys fidgeted nervously behind her. She glared pointedly at the dull clerk.

  “If you will not let me see my uncle, the king, who requested my presence, then perhaps you might let Branwen, the master of spies, know I carry an urgent message from the Lieutenant.” She folded her arms over her chest.

  The clerk blinked down at her from his perch. “The Lieutenant?” he said, sneering as he set his quill down. “Fairy tales and legends will not get you an audience with my master Branwen, let alone the king. Besides, Secretary Branwen is also in conference and cannot be disturbed.”

  Rebecca stepped forward, squeezing her fists until her nails dug into her flesh, trying to resist the urge to climb up there and strangle this fool.

  A woman’s gentle voice broke the stalemate. “Perhaps I could be of assistance.” It was not a question but a statement of fact.

  Rebecca turned to face a gray-haired woman who stood with the authority of one used to being obeyed. The old woman raised a well-shaped eyebrow as she took stock of Rebecca with her sharp eyes. Her dark, heavy skirts rustled across the hushed room, and Rebecca examined the woman in return. There was something familiar about the way the woman pursed her lips. Rebecca noted a silver scar that poked out from her hair just above her ear.

  “Let me see your hands.” The woman held out two well-manicured hands.

  Rebecca hesitated, aware of the roughness of her own.

  “Oh, these are not the hands of a lady!” the woman said, tracing the calluses of Rebecca’s hands with her fingers. “I see that the Lieutenant has been teaching you swordplay instead of needlework.”

  The smirk slid off the clerk’s face as he went ashen.

  “And you really need to stop chewing your nails. A lady is judged harshly by the state of her hands.” The woman’s brown eyes softened with budding tears. “Do you not remember me?” she asked, gently cupping Rebecca’s dirty face. “I see that you have turned into a young woman in my absence. And I? I’ve turned old.”

  The deep lines of the woman’s face shifted as she smiled, stripping away the hardness of her face. As kindness bloomed on the woman’s face, warmth wrapped its arms around her heart. How did this gray-haired woman know her? Rebecca hardly knew anyone outside of the Lieutenant and Denny’s brothers. Oh, and Benjamin. Could she have known her before she moved to the Thieves’ Plain?

  “Nurse Dally?” Rebecca burst out, clutching the woman in her arms. The old nurse smelled of soap and lavender, stirring deep memories of nursery songs and garden walks. Tears stung her eyes.

  “Princess Reyna!” Nurse Dally held her at arm’s length, smiling. “You smell awful! Let’s find you and your friends a bath and clean clothes.”

  “Separate baths, I hope,” Benjamin said, winking.

  Rebecca closed her eyes, praying that somehow no one else had heard that. Nurse Dally merely smiled sourly at Benjamin and led them away from the bewildered clerk.

  THIRTY FIVE

  The bathwater was the perfect temperature and smelled of sweet violets. The old nurse scrubbed and admired her. She told happy stories of a time she had nearly forgotten. Rebecca laughed and cried. Is this what happy felt like? She couldn’t remember. Dally combed through her hair, clucking loudly about its shortness.

  “I know the danger was great, but such short hair?” Dally shook her head and puckered her lips in deep thought. “What am I going to do with it? There’s nothing to work with!” She met Rebecca’s eyes in the mirror and sighed. “We’ll just have to start a new fashion—or bring back an old one.”

  Dally twisted and pinned her hair, hoping it would dry into curls. After the bath was done, she sent for Rebecca’s childhood favorite: sweet buns. Rebecca devoured nearly a whole plate, along with spiced berries, soft cheeses, and cold chicken. It was a simple meal for a princess, but indulgent for the simple life Rebecca had lived for so long.

  Her eyes roamed over and over the opulence of the rooms. Dally assured her that these were her parents’ rooms, and now they were hers. She remembered nothing of fine linens, soft beds, decadent foods, and servants coming and going. The idea felt more like a story someone had made up than her actual birthright. A part of her knew what to do and what to expect, but most of her was in shock. How was this ever my life?

  “Wow, you must have been really dirty!” Benjamin said, closing the door quietly. “Looks like you just got out.”

  A warmth rose in her voice. “It was the strategy session we had for my hair! Or the lack of it!”

  Benjamin merely shrugged. “Hair grows back. Heads do not.”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes and huffed through the flash of heat on her cheeks. “What do you want?”

  “Just checking in. Denny is about as pleasant as a headache right now. So, of course, I thought of you,” Benjamin said with a chuckle.

  “Oh, Denny.” Rebecca closed her eyes, thinking of the campfire.

  “Surprisingly, he’s not enjoying his time in the castle.”

  Rebecca turned a questioning look toward him as Benjamin picked through the dishes of food on Rebecca’s table. Does he know? She slapped his greedy hand away too late.

  “I’m not sure being a profitable farmer or merchant will be enough for him now, do you?” He bit into a sweet bun. His eyes widened in enjoyment. “You and the Lieutenant ruined all those dreams for him.”

  Rebecca bit her thumb and nodded. Benjamin was astute, but he couldn’t possibly understand how complicated her relationship with Denny was.

  “What are you doing in a lady’s room?” Dally gasped, entering the room carrying gowns for Rebecca in her arms. She staggered around to find an acceptable place to set them down. Meanwhile, Benjamin looked around, confused. Rebecca threw a napkin at him in disgust at having to clarify who the lady was.

  Dally herded him out into the hallway, a gray strand falling from her elegant twist. Rebecca could hear her shrieking about decorum. She then hurried back into the room, appalled that Rebecca would let a young man into her rooms unattended and while only in her dressing gown. It took several minutes to assure Dally that she had not let Benjamin in. Now that Benjamin was thoroughly educated in the matter, it definitely wouldn’t happen again.

  They settled on a lavender dress that had to be put on in two pieces. Thankfully it was well suited for summer; its fabric was light and soft, as opposed to heavy winter dresses. Dally pulled out the pins that released unruly corkscrew curls all over her head. With a few silver combs in place, Dally tamed them. Tingles rippled across her arms when she looked in the mirror.

  “I look like a girl!”

  She turned and examined the flowing skirt that trailed behind her. Dally leaned over and wrapped a silver chain around her neck. A wolf ran midstride within the chain and rested just above the locket with her parents’ initials.

  In the sitting room, Benjamin paced back and forth in front of the guards. Denny slouched, tracing the pattern on his chair. Both boys stopped to look at her as she entered the room. Denny staggered up and then bowed. Benjamin just gawked until Dally cleared her throat a few times, and then he also tipped forward. Dally kept an icy stare on him, freezing th
e words that he was about to utter on his lips.

  Rebecca nodded, releasing them from their bows. They both wore borrowed military suits. The cut flattered Denny’s broad shoulders and athletic build. The blue and gray set off his eyes and blond waves perfectly. He looked like a soldier. Whereas Benjamin, she noted with a knowing smile, just looks out of place.

  There was a commotion in the hallway outside her door. A man wearing elegant ochre robes with sandy-blond hair burst into the room. His finely groomed beard showed signs of white. He looked nearly as fit as the Lieutenant, though a deep crease marked his brow. He just stared at her, his hazel eyes burning with unnamable emotions. Would her father have looked like that?

  A hunched man in black robes with startling white hair entered behind him and gestured for the guards to wait outside. With the click of the door, the king strode across the room. He embraced her, tears brimming in his eyes. Rebecca pressed her face into his warm chest, her throat pricking with unshed tears. Would her father have hugged her like this?

  “Oh, Reyna, I was so near to accepting that the worst had happened to you.” His eyes reddened, but tears did not fall as he gripped her hands. “How much you look like your mother! So beautiful!”

  The knot in her throat kept her from speaking. She could only smile in response.

  “Forgive me for not meeting you when you arrived. I was in counsel and had ordered no one to disturb us.” The king’s eyes were eager for news of Rebecca’s adventures. “No news of your guardian?”