by Katie Roman
She allowed herself a moment of frustration before thinking of Katherine and Drake, still in the cottage. She hobbled back in, feeling sore and angry that Kara got away when so much blood was on her hands.
She cut Katherine’s bonds first. “You?” the duchess said as soon as her mouth rag was gone.
“Yes, Your Grace, me.” Grace set to work cutting Drake loose. “Was he hurt?”
“Just a bump on the head. She knocked him out and then forced me to help her carry him here. I couldn’t very well leave him and run for help, so I followed. And you – did you come all this way alone?”
“Sir Tristan is about, although he is sore with me. He will be along soon, no doubt.”
“Thank you, Grace.” Katherine took hold of Grace’s hands, stopping them from her work. Grace was shocked to see tenderness, visible even in the candle light, on the duchess’s face. “Do you know what she meant about there being a host of men out there? I lied to her, wanting her to think I was bringing the force of Arganis down upon her.”
“If I guess correctly, she had the king’s army at her back.”
Katherine hung her head. “She showed me her orders to capture Drake and me alive. They bore the king’s seal. Even if you bear us back to Arganis, we are no longer safe.”
Grace thought on this. “Do you think you can sneak into the village?”
“Why would we want to sneak back into the village?” Katherine asked, raising an eyebrow. “Frederick is probably going to look for us there first.”
“There is a woman in the village – or there was, at least – and she may be able to take you out on her ship, if she’s still there. Her name is Kay Lansa, and for a bit of gold she will do whatever you ask.” Grace kept trying to think of ways to get Katherine and Drake out, but she knew Tristan would need to go with them as well. He had also received a threatening letter. Would Grace be able to help them? Leon was tangled in their plot, so he would need to be warned. And what if Kara was telling the truth and there was a host of men out there, waiting to arrest them all for treason?
Grace covered her face with her hands as she realized there was no way to get a message to anyone. She would have to go to the castle and alert Leon herself. Outside, she heard the sound of footsteps. She brought her head up and saw Katherine move to the door.
“It’s only Tristan,” Katherine declared.
The knight came in, torch still in hand. He looked at Grace, scowled, and turned his attention to Drake. “What happened?” he demanded.
“A tap on the head is all. He is breathing and will be awake soon.” Katherine took Tristan's pack and portioned out what food was inside to those who were awake, and then set aside another portion for Drake to have when he came to.
“What do we do now?” the knight asked as he sat on the floor dejectedly. He ignored Grace and focused entirely on Katherine.
“I can run back to Arganis and get help,” Grace began. “If I run, even in the dark, it will only take a few hours. The moving will not be as slow as when Tristan and I tracked you,” Grace volunteered. Next to her, Tristan mumbled under his breath.
“Absolutely not!” Katherine snapped. “Our last guard fell into a wolf pit because he wasn’t mindful of where he stepped. I will not have you running blindly in the dark. Plus, Kara is still out there…and who knows who else.”
“I have been running blindly in the dark for years. If I get closer to the castle, there are no pits to worry about.”
“If you get closer…however, I will not risk your life on 'ifs', Grace. No. We must all rest. You two most of all. I will keep watch first, then Tristan, then Grace, and then Drake if he can be roused. Now try to get some sleep. We will discuss what happens next once we are all rested.”
No further arguments in her, Grace moved to a corner and curled herself into a ball for warmth. It seemed unlikely that she would be able to sleep, but after a while her eyelids grew heavy.
Sixteen
In her dreams, Grace took the trail covered in blood. She ran along it for some time. Behind her, the heat of the flames lessened. She came upon a clearing and found a man face-down in the dirt with a knife between his shoulder blades. The blood flowed from him, but how could one person create such a river? Grace bent over and grabbed the hilt of the knife, drew it out, and suddenly the man gasped for breath. The blood receded, but when he rolled over, Grace saw it was Drake. From the path, she heard a great crash and the splintering of wood. Grace turned around quickly to see fire had already destroyed the path back. She realized she had no way to return.
Grace woke with a start, flaying her hands wildly and nearly hitting Drake. The prince looked at her curiously and gave a weak smile, and then Grace looked around and noticed that Tristan and Katherine were also up. Outside the cottage's window, Grace saw a gray dawn.
“Did I miss my watch?” Grace asked tiredly.
“I woke up and relieved Tristan of his duty. I tried to wake you, but you could not be roused,” Drake explained. “So I let you sleep. Katherine and Tristan have been filling me in on all the things that happened since I was knocked out.”
“And trying to decide what we should do now,” Katherine continued. “We are not safe here, but it will hardly be safe anywhere in Arganis.”
“We could find a coastal village and try to get on a trade ship bound for Nareroc,” Tristan said.
Grace shook her head in disagreement.
“Arganis has the biggest port in this area, and only Cesernan trade passes through the smaller towns and villages up here. If you want a ship to Nareroc, you have to go back to Arganis.”
“Katherine said you have a friend who is staying the village. If she is still there, would she give us safe passage?” Drake asked as he handed Grace the water flask and an apple.
She took a quick sip and bit into the apple. “We are hardly friends, so she may not…but for a price she may. However, she may have already left, too.”
“Are you referring to Kay?” Tristan asked. Grace had already forgotten that the two danced at Calvin's wedding. All of that seemed a distant dream now. “She planned to stay on for a few weeks, but I think that was only because she wanted to needle Grace. Although I think she is too unsavory a person to transport such dignified passengers.”
“There is no helping that,” Katherine said. “We’ll have to try and get to her unseen. One of her crewmen can deliver a message that we are safe, but the less anyone in Arganis knows, the better.”
“Then we had best get moving,” Drake said determinedly.
~*~*~
They began walking without any words between them. Tristan led the way, his sword at the ready, while Grace took the rearguard, sandwiching Katherine and Drake between them. After a while, Grace began to feel uneasy. She didn't share her feelings, but her heart pounded and her limbs shook with each step. She suddenly feared to go home. Dread clouded her mind, and as she walked on, the uneasiness only grew.
“Gods,” Tristan swore, stopping their progress. “What is that?”
Everyone looked to see where he pointed and saw a pillar of black smoke rising high in the air from the direction of Arganis castle. Grace thought about her dreams of blood and fire, and realization dawned on her regarding what her choice meant. Without waiting to see if the others wanted to change the plan, she began running for home.
“Grace!” Drake screamed after her. “Come back! It's too dangerous!” She ignored his protests and ran for all she was worth.
The smoke became thicker as Grace drew closer, covering everything in a gray haze. She couldn't see what had been set on fire, but she knew it was no simple bonfire. As she ran closer, she tied the Death Dealer hood around her nose and mouth just in case. Where was it blowing from? She had yet to see any fire.
The castle walls came into view. Behind them, through the haze, Grace saw the smoke as it billowed out of the top floors of the castle – the family's chambers. Grace doubled her speed and sprinted through the gates, when she was caught by
two men. She struggled against them and was hit over the head for her troubles.
~*~*~
Grace dreamed. In here, the men were gone. The path behind her was blocked by fire, the way forward was black, and Grace had no torch. She sat alone, crying over her failure to save Arganis. The great wolf Diggery trotted out of the blackened road ahead.
“Go away!” Grace screamed. “This is your fault! You could have warned me about the danger that lay ahead!”
Grace buried her face in her hands, but two cold hands forced her face up. Instead of the wolf, a young woman looked down at her. Grace knew her. Her hair was as black as the wolf's fur, but her eyes were a deep purple, the color of twilight before the world goes dark. She had brown skin and wore travel stained clothes.
“Kit?” Kit had been Grace's friend from the moment she first arrived in Glenbard. She was a wanderer, taking to supply trains and trade ships all over the world. She also seemed to have a knack for arriving just when things looked their bleakest.
“I have many names and many forms, Grace, but it seems to me that now you need to see one you are more likely to trust.”
“Why did you lay this on me?”
“You are a loyal servant, and I did not choose these paths. I knew they were coming and I put them before you. I used your dreams to warn you.” Diggery smoothed Grace's hair with one hand and held her chin with the other. “But these circumstances are not of my making. We gods do not control the slippery wills of man.”
“What happens now?” Grace asked. She felt shaken and drained from everything.
“You submit to this path that you have chosen, or you move forward.”
Grace looked at the blackness ahead, and then got to her feet and walked back to the path blocked by fire. She found a few sticks on the ground and wrapped them together with a band Diggery handed her, and then thrust the sticks into the fire. With a suitable torch made, she walked toward the darkened path, torch held in front of her.
Disgraceful
Book 4
By Katie Roman
Chaos has descended on Glenbard. The people are starving, martial law has been imposed, and the country is marshalling for war. With the King of Thieves arrested a violent upstart has stepped into his place, leaving the people too terrified to take stand. From her cell in prison, Grace Hilren can only watch and scheme.
Chosen by Glenbard's patron goddess, Grace is filled with a grim determination to save her city and its people. But Grace's foe isn't a petty thief or highwayman, now she faces the crown itself. With sword in hand Grace will do whatever is needed to bring justice to the land.
To every single person that ever listened to me complain, angst, or brag over writing this series
One
The sun shone high above Glenbard, though it didn’t bring much warmth with it. Winter came early, and the usual mild autumns the citizens enjoyed were destroyed by a wind that cut through their clothes to their very bones. A few wandering merchants told the citizens to be thankful they didn’t live in the north, as it was already snowing heavily in Arganis. Some joked that the only thing that kept the lumberjacks in Arganis warm was the burning of their lord’s castle.
But Arganis wasn’t the only place to burn in those days. Some of the fields in Actis had been burned and salted. To Glenbard folk, these were distant places where only merchant caravans went. It wasn’t until rumors spread that the fields of Egona were next that they felt trouble was coming too close to home. Whatever trouble the king had with his lords wasn’t their concern. There were bigger troubles in the city. The Duke of Escion had declared martial law, taken over the food stores to feed his soldiers, and set up a curfew. He’d arrested the King of Thieves and driven his successors into hiding.
Ridley wasn’t so much hiding as she was contemplating, as she sought sanctuary in the temple of Diggery. She sat in the back of the temple listening to the head priest, Father Thorne, drone on. She found his extolling of the virtues of the goddess to be boring. He spoke as though he were about to die, but she didn’t dare tell him how his sermons put her to sleep. He was kind to allow her to stay, and provided her a room and food without complaint. In exchange, he expected her to attend at least one service a day and to clean whatever needed cleaning. He excused her from copying and reciting from Diggery’s holy book because Ridley only knew how to write and read her own name.
Men from the city guard often came to talk to her, trying to coax her out of hiding. She trusted none of them, save for one. Captain Nathaniel Moore slid into the seat next to her. He wore his daily uniform, a black leather jerkin over a red shirt, with his pants tucked into his boots. His once long black hair had been cut short and he had a long, pink-white scar under his left eye, the only mark on his otherwise perfectly bronzed skin.
He looked forward. Unlike a few weeks ago when Nathaniel kept his involvement in her escape secret, he now came to the temple openly. Sometimes he came with Captain Erickson of the Serenity Place guard house, and sometimes he came alone. He pretended to be working on behalf of the city’s appointed guardian, but he really had his own agenda.
Father Thorne finished his sermon and dismissed the congregation, urging them to donate to the alms box if they were able. Nathaniel and Ridley stayed seated.
“How’s Jack?” she eventually ventured. Jack’s arrest had startled the city even more than his appointment to city magistrate.
Ridley was immensely proud when she heard that Jack had refused to vote for a measure that would have taken food from the citizens and given it to the Duke of Escion and his men. Even after accepting bribes to vote for it, Jack still voted against it and even punched the duke, making him a hero in the city. In the end, of course, it was a futile gesture. Robert of Escion was granted control of the city by the king’s orders and the food went to him anyway. What was left, meager as it was, was portioned out to the people. With a poor harvest and little food coming in from Cesernan’s allies, the people went hungry. Not for the first time, Ridley wished Jack had killed the duke instead of just breaking his nose.
“His Grace of Escion has moved Jack from the depths of the dungeon to the upper levels, the cells normally reserved for nobles and the rich. He’s faring better in Redbank prison than he was a week ago. I think his father is actually taking pity on him,” Nathaniel finished with a shrug.
“And the city?”
“There have been a few food riots in Jack’s honor, but the duke sees that they are squashed quickly. Eight men and women have been hanged for treason for attempting to incite rebellion and break into the grain stores. Some of the city’s beggars have died of exposure and hunger, but His Grace doesn’t care.” Nathaniel shook his head.
Ridley leaned forward, covering her face with her hands. She took a few deep breaths to stop herself from crying. She straightened, wiped away the few tears that managed to escape, and turned to face Nathaniel again. “Has there been any word on Marcus’s punishment?”
“He’s been loaded onto a ship bound for the forced labor camps on Nareroc. I think the duke hopes the ship will capsize in the early winter storms.”
Ridley wanted to ask about Thom, Marcus’s second, but she didn’t dare. She knew Nathaniel was watched often. He simply provided her with news, without passing an opinion, and always told her to leave her sanctuary and turn herself over to the law. However, she also knew he wanted her to stay right where she was. He was an odd man, this servant of the law.
“Will you leave the temple with me?” he asked, loud enough for any listeners nearby to hear. Those that filed out of the temple gave him a quick glance and hurried on. Most of the city knew Ridley resided here now, and that guards visited several times a day to coax her out.
“I keep to my sanctuary. When a year and a day has passed, I will either take the robes of a priestess or leave to whatever fate you have in store,” she gave her customary response.
“As the lady likes it.” Nathaniel got up and strode out with the rest of the congregation. He
’d be back tomorrow with more news.
~*~*~
Nathaniel kept a small room at the Rogue’s Lane guard house. It had always served as the acting captain’s lodgings, and it was a good way to save coin on rent and food. It had a lock and only one key, which he kept in a secret pocket inside his captain’s tunic. Some other men lived in the guard house as well, mostly bachelors saving up for a house when they eventually married. They slept far enough away from the captain’s room that Nathaniel didn’t worry about them listening to what went on in his chamber.
The captain fit his key into the lock and pushed his way in, whistling a four note tune as he opened the door. He carried a candle from the clerk’s desk, giving some light to the area, and lit the wall torch with his candle. The room was sparsely furnished, holding a bed with a straw mattress, a bedroll on the floor, and a chest with four drawers for his cityman clothes and extra uniforms was pushed up next to the door. His desk and bookshelf were in the office next to his room. As Nathaniel placed the candle on his dresser, a figure crawled out from under the bed.
“I am not a fan of hiding like a runaway,” Thom said. Marcus’s right-hand man was tall, too tall to be hiding under a bed all day, but there wasn’t much Nathaniel could do about that. Since returning to Glenbard, Thom had shaved his head and grown a beard to mask his identity as best he could. His brown trousers and gray shirt were covered in dust.
“Until His Grace halts this insanity, you are still a wanted man,” Nathaniel replied, kicking off his boots.
Thom sat on the bed, much to Nathaniel’s disdain. He had wanted to sit there. He said nothing, though. After all, the man had been cramped under the bed all day.