Love, Blood & Fury

by Melissa J Kincaid

  Lorch’s lips twitched and he stepped back from Arii, but his eyes were glittering with mischief. “Elijah here is a royal buzz kill,” he chuckled, continuing to brush the mare’s flank as if the little moment of electricity between them never happened.

  Arii’s eyes made their way from Lorch to the hooded stranger. His attire was the same as the last time she had seen him, dark hues and tinted black armour. He had a dangerous air about him, dense and radiating - or perhaps that was because she could not see his face. Just like the night before, Elijah wore a hooded cloak which left all but the bottom of his face in shadow.

  Arii’s head tilted and she watched as, impressively, Elijah’s mouth frowned even further. She felt a weight on her shoulders, a crackle of energy across her skin.

  “We have business in the castle, my King. Do not forget your meeting with the council today,” Elijah warned, his voice deep and smooth like silk.

  Huh, she had presumed his voice would sound like a dull blade.

  Lorch sighed long and hard, and when Arii’s attention slipped back to him, the King had the end of her braid in his fingers. He smoothed his thumb over the honey tip of her dark tresses as he said, “Too bad, I was hoping to get to know my saviour.”

  The King pouted, letting her hair fall before offering her a wink.

  Her voice was barely a whisper as she said, “There really isn’t much to know, Your Highness.”

  Lorch grinned, white teeth flashing. “Now I’m sure that isn’t true. I will seek an audience with you later, Miss Clearwater.” He smiled before adding, “Accept, lest I make it an order.”

  Placing the brush into a basket nearby, the King inclined his head before turning to leave. Arii stood motionless as Lorch, with one last glance, exited the stall.

  Elijah followed, his long cloak sweeping the hay as he paused just beside her, hood keeping his features in shadow. That weight she had felt earlier pressed on her now, the hairs on her body lifting on end, a fire ricocheting through her veins. This man, whoever he was, pulled a feeling of fight or flight from within her that was usually next to non-existent.

  He was looking at her, but she was unable to see his eyes.

  “You’ll do well to keep your distance from the King…” he drawled, his voice like melted chocolate, laced with warning. She felt that voice drift over her senses, and she swore for just a second, she could taste the light sheen of magic on her tongue.

  Peculiar indeed.

  With that, the man named Elijah swept past her and was soon gone from sight.

  It was only a few moments later that Arii realised her hand was twisted in Day Dancer’s mane, the silk strands pulled taught enough that it almost hurt.

  With a drawn-out breath, she slowly retrieved the brush, moving to busy her own hands and preoccupy her mind from the blur of thoughts beginning to coalesce.

  “Gods, that guy gives me the creeps,” whispered Tikkani as she joined Arii in the stall. Her voice was low, as if she were afraid the bodyguard would reappear at any moment.

  “Who is he?” breathed Arii, her eyes finding Tikkani’s as the girl began to brush Day Dancer’s other side. She paused, peering over the horse’s quivering rump, a look of carefully veiled uneasiness on her features.

  “The scary hooded guy? That is Elijah Wolfe, the King’s personal bodyguard. I heard his bark is as bad as his bite. Hardly anyone has seen his face, save for the King and a handful of other people, and he is said to be a total badass in combat.”

  Arii continued to brush, her eyes preoccupied with the horse’s coat, her mind lost in thought. She knew the King would have guards, but a personal bodyguard with the air of an assassin had not crossed her mind. Tikkani sighed loudly and slid the brush back in the holder nearby.

  “Alright, that’ll do for now. This place is pretty spotless. Let’s head back to the training arena and let off some steam. You look like you need it, Arii,” she said, spinning on her heel and marching from the stall – as if she could not get away fast enough. Arii vaguely wondered why Tikkani had such an aversion to horses.

  Perhaps – to get her mind off the mysterious cloaked man and the honey-lipped King – she would ask her once they got to the training ring.

  Arii chewed her lip in thought as she exited the stall.

  ~~~

  A crisp breeze fluttered through the trees, picking up a gathering of fallen leaves and passing them across the castle gardens in a gentle dance. In the distance, the ever-constant rumble of the waterfall could be heard.

  Lynnera Kruel sat at an elaborate dining setting on an elevated balcony overlooking the gardens. She lifted a cup to her lips, blowing out a breath to cool the tea before sipping delicately. In the distance, a hint of the thatched roofs of the small town could be seen, peaks of well-maintained homes owned by the wealthy people of the North Court.

  The sun bathed her spun gold hair as her head tilted to the warm rays.

  Across from the King’s mother sat Arii, her back rigid against the chair, her eyes fixed on her lap where her fingers were twined.

  The invitation to have tea with the King’s mother was unexpected and received by messenger moments after Arii had returned to the barracks to wash the day’s work off her body, not to mention the pool of sweat on her lower back as a reminder of her close encounter with the King and his shadowy bodyguard.

  Now the woman’s eyes were drifting serenely from the gardens to her guest, lips pursing in a smile.

  “My dear, you are awfully quiet. Please, be at ease,” she said, setting the cup down on its accompanying saucer with a clink.

  Arii’s eyes lifted ever so slightly to meet Lynnera’s, taken aback by the hue resembling her son’s. The man’s sapphire depths had been burned into her memory, it seemed.

  Arii cleared her throat and spoke. “Apologies, My Lady. I…” She paused, hoping her tone was meek and dull, devoid enough of its usual bravado. Acting was difficult. Killing without mercy was far easier to her.

  “I am not used to being in the presence of royalty,” she finished weakly.

  Lynnera’s eyes were gentle. “Of course not. Please do not fret, you can be assured that you are safe here.” She motioned to the simply dressed handmaidens drifting around them. “I am sure there are many people wishing to speak with you, my dear. What you did two nights ago is a hot topic of discussion right now.” The older woman leaned forward and placed a lightly wrinkled hand over Arii’s.

  Arii suppressed an internal shudder at the contact.

  “You saved my son’s life.” Lynnera said, her tone heavy with meaning. “Such a thing cannot be easily repaid. Tell me, what can I give you that could begin paying this enormous debt I owe you?” She squeezed Arii’s fingers. “Gold, jewels, an estate? Whatever you want, I will gladly give it.”

  Arii had no doubt that the King’s mother was speaking true.

  Her gaze lifted to meet Lynnera’s oceanic one. “All I want are some questions answered, My Lady.” She paused, allowing the woman a moment to object.

  With a smile, the King’s mother leaned back and motioned with her head, her brows rising. “Is that true? Not riches beyond your wildest dreams? Well, of course my dear. Please, speak your questions. I do insist though about the gold.” She smiled encouragingly. “I have already arranged an account set up for you. Anything you want, you will have.”

  Arii swallowed thickly. She had no need of gold, but she knew many who would gladly take her donation. A poverty-stricken orphanage in Amberbourne, or the little farms on the edge of The Sapphire Depths which had been razed naught three weeks ago by rogue Red Guard soldiers.

  “It’s about King Lorch, My Lady.” She paused, formulating her question as not to seem too prying. “He is young, he doesn’t seem the Kingly type?”

  Lynnera leaned back in her chair and smiled. “Ah yes, my son unfo
rtunately did not choose to ascend to the throne. He was placed there by his father. Much to his dismay.” She brushed away a stray lock of hair that had come loose from its carefully crafted knot. “The King would much prefer the benefits that being King brings. Wealth… Women…” She eyed Arii. “When my son sets his eyes on something, he is relentless until he gets what he wants. Unfortunately…” She sighed. “Matters of royal significance have no importance to him. His father takes care of all matters of the Crown. Lorch is incredibly intelligent; despite the appearance he holds in front of his courtiers. But it seems my son much prefers to leave the hard work to my husband.”

  Arii paused, then said, “When you say he was placed on the throne…” She trailed off, and Lynnera continued.

  “When the last royal family - Gods rest their souls - left this earth before their time twenty-two years ago, my husband was Hand to King Tyverus Herington.” She smiled gently. “With no surviving members of the Herington line, my husband held the throne until Lorch came of age at eighteen.”

  Arii thought of what little she knew of the Herington family. She was only young when news crashed through the Kingdom of the royal family’s murder. Tyverus, his wife Hannera, daughter Ghila and sons Brohem and Eliverus were slaughtered in their beds by rogue soldiers.

  It was rumoured the killers were human rebels, a carefully planned uprising of people who feared magic, a traitorous weaving from within the castle itself. Some said they secretly wanted the riches of the kingdom for their own. Others seemed to be of the thought that the group who carried out the murders still had the same beliefs of usurpers who had initialised the killings of male Fae, the fear still strong, believing the males of the family to be in possession of powerful magic.

  “The Herington family were Fae?” asked Arii, watching as Lynnera nodded in confirmation. As far as Arii knew, there had been no evidence of magic in the family’s line, and they were slaughtered out of pre-emptive fear.

  “So sad what happened to them, so unnecessary. Fear is a powerful thing, my dear, it brings forth an ugliness from within that makes people do unspeakable things.”

  Lynnera turned as a maid approached and curtseyed by their table.

  “My Lady, your husband requests your presence in the council chambers,” the woman said, unsure eyes drifting to Lynnera’s guest.

  Arii withheld the urge to bare her canines unnecessarily at the girl.

  Lynnera nodded and turned back to Arii. “Should you have any further requests, my girl, do not hesitate to come to me.” The woman placed her hand atop Arii’s again before saying gently, “And do not mind my son. He can be an insufferable, cocky young fool but his heart is unlike any I have ever known. As gold as these castle walls.”

  With that, Arii was left alone to ponder her words.

  ~~~

  Swords clashed in the early morning light filtering through the windows of the training area as two figures sparred.

  The taller, larger figure of the two dropped and swept a leg out in attempt to trip his opponent, and the move hit home. The second figure, with a grunt, landed on his backside with a muted thud and an obscene curse.

  The man on the floor speared a hand through his copper hair, muttering another colourful curse under his breath and lifting his gaze to the shadow above him.

  “You are lucky, Elijah, that you are my friend,” said Lorch, standing and rubbing his bottom. “I would have your head for that if you were anyone else.”

  Elijah was clad in a lighter version of his usual armour. The metal plates were gone, leaving him in dark, lightweight leather and cloth. The larger man flipped the sword in his hand, his movements fluid and practiced.

  “And I would chide you for your foul mouth were you not my King,” said Elijah, his tone light. His lips twitched in the closest thing to a smile he would offer from beneath his hood. He held out a hand, helping the King to his feet.

  Lorch waved his hand dismissively at Elijah’s tone and sauntered to the weapons rack nearby, slotting his practice sword back into place.

  From the ring came Elijah’s soft voice. “You are improving,” he said simply, moving to return his own sword.

  “Nyx’s arse I am…” laughed Lorch, hand on his tender rump again. “I hate that you make me train, Elijah. Again, it is a good thing you are my friend.” Watching his companion place his sword on the rack with care, Lorch peered to where Elijah’s eyes would be if he were not wearing the hood. For a long time, Elijah had worn the hood to keep his face in shadow. It had not always been that way though; it was only as the boys matured that Elijah began to withdraw into himself. Memory fluttered across Lorch’s eyes – memories of a simpler time…

  Lorch, aged around eleven, held out his hand to a boy who had fallen in the dirt. The boy stared up at the copper haired Prince with a look of caution, his face masked with a guarded expression. After a moment, he took Lorch’s offer of help and stood, brushing mud from his breeches in an attempt to clean himself.

  “You alright?” chimed Lorch, his round face painted with a smile. He had seen this boy around the castle grounds before. He was skinny, almost malnourished, and he was often mucking stalls and carrying vegetables to the castle kitchens from the nearby crops. He was a few years older than Lorch, but it was hard to tell due to the boy’s skinny body and slumped shoulders.

  He nodded and his eyes quickly dropped to the ground. He knew that he was standing before the Crown Prince, and it was clear the boy had not a clue how to react.

  “I’m Lorch. You have been here at the castle for a little while, haven’t you? What’s your name?” Lorch chirped, his tone friendly.

  The boy hesitated, knowing you must always answer royalty when spoken to. He cleared his throat before answering.

  “Elijah, my prince,” he said, his voice timid and eyes downcast. “Elijah Wolfe.”

  Lorch grinned and lightly tapped the scrawny boy on the shoulder.

  “Tag, you’re it!” he suddenly cried, and Elijah’s eyes lifted quickly to the Prince with a look of guarded dismay.

  “C’mon!” giggled Lorch as he turned to face the castle grounds. “Race you to the kitchens. Last one there has to lick Cook’s toes!”

  With that, the light-haired boy was running.

  Elijah’s lips twitched, the corners curling. The offer of some fun was too hard to ignore when you were a child.

  Soon, the boy was sprinting after his Prince.

  Lorch would always remember when he had helped his friend out of the mud, and the events leading to their tight bond. They had grown up in the castle together, and it did not take long for Elijah’s body to fill out with access to proper food and warm lodging. As they matured, he gained height on Lorch and soon he was enrolling with the Red Guard as a soldier.

  Elijah had always been guarded and stoic, even as a child, but he did let a little of that guard drop when Lorch was nearby. Lorch was like light to his hesitant darkness.

  Lorch was not a soldier by any means, having no interest in combat. He found that when he held a sword, he became like a fish out of The Sapphire Depths. His friend insisted he know the basics of a sword, if it ever came to defending himself. Elijah warned he may not always be there to protect him, which Lorch would brush off with a dismissive hand.

  In his mind, Elijah was always in the shadows watching over him.

  “I think I’ll set an audience with my saviour,” Lorch said lightly. He could feel the air around them become dense with Elijah’s disapproval as the man turned to him, lips set in a frown.

  Typical Elijah.

  “I do not think that is wise, my King. I do not trust her,” he said, his tone careful.

  Lorch’s head tilted, hand slipping into his pocket, proceeding to return his rings back to his fingers one by one. “Nonsense… I am merely curious about her, that is all.” His lips parted in h
is usual grin. If Lorch could see Elijah’s eyes, he knew they would be rolling behind his cloak. “Besides, you will be close by. I do not have anything to worry about.”

  Elijah’s frown remained as he said, “The way she felled the beast in the throne room, she moved like someone with intense combat training… I do not believe her to be just a mere servant…”

  Lorch’s lips curled. “I quake to imagine her talents elsewhere!”

  Elijah huffed with disapproval, causing Lorch to chuckle. He was always trying to get a rise out of Elijah, like prodding a bear. It was thrilling and terrifying, the man was stoic like a disapproving statue but to get a reaction from him showed Lorch his friend was not turning to stone completely.

  Lorch was fascinated by the young woman. The King’s Saviour. There was something about her that had him drawn to her, like a gold-laced moth to a flame. Perhaps it was just the fact she had saved his life, but he was determined to know more about her. How had she gotten to him so quickly on the dais? Had she no fear? Even his guards and his father had shown fear before the creature. He recalled her dull, pretty features and dark eyes, her thick brown hair tipped in gold. Her expression was guarded, and he wondered what her smile would look like…

  Lorch shook away his thoughts.

  “Let us break our fast, I heard Cook is preparing sweet cakes,” he said, and the two men exited the training room.

  Chapter Five

  Black mist drifted over her boots, the moist, thick air speckled with stardust as she inhaled – eyes raking the glittering, endless expanse of night ahead.

  Arii’s tongue coated with the sweet taste of magic, her hair rising around her shoulders as her lips parted to exhale a cloud of white smoke. Around her the world was dark as pitch, the void above a twinkling galaxy of diamonds.

  Where was she? Was this a dream?

  Ahead, a tall, broad shouldered figure cloaked in a hood stood with his back to her, cloth billowing in a breeze she could not feel. Her fingers lifted, gliding through the thick dark mist as she began moving towards the figure.