Throne Shaker (The Clash and the Heat Book 3)

by Val Saintcrowe

  But in the morning, she was all smiles, happy and excited, and they went out to the meadow behind the inn and she ran around, screaming with laughter. It was chilly outside but the air was bright and sunny, and her dark hair gleamed and reflected back the sun, and she was full of energy and joy, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.

  They found tiny toads that were no bigger than his thumb, and he caught them in his hands and held them. When he would slowly part his hands, the little toads would jump out, and she was delighted by this, demanding he teach her to catch them, too. But no matter how she tried, the toads seemed to evade her. They were too quick for her small hands.

  It was almost a week before news came that Dubois had taken his throne, and Remy took it in stride.

  He knew that only days ago he would have been furious to hear this, but he found he didn’t actually care. Dubois had done it as a ploy to get Remy to come back to court, and Remy didn’t want to come back yet.

  He would go back, of course. He couldn’t stay on the run with Margo forever. And he knew that he couldn’t deprive Margo of her mother’s presence forever either. The little girl loved her mother, and Remy was causing her pain by keeping her from Fleur, and he couldn’t bear to hurt Margo.

  So, he would bring her back.

  Just…

  Not yet.

  GUILLAME

  Guillame was on his feet in the throne room. He’d been on his throne holding court until Fleur came in and he’d ordered everyone out.

  He was holding court because he wanted to make Remy as angry as possible. If he was affecting policy, doing the actual job of ruling, maybe that would be the final straw, and Remy would come back.

  Thus far, his plan, it wasn’t actually working.

  “Fleur, I have another idea. I’m working on it,” he said.

  “If you were really the king of everything, you’d get my daughter back.” She was climbing the dais. “You’ve done nothing since this all happened, nothing at all. I think you are working with Remy. The two of you have grown thick as thieves and—”

  “I’m not working with him,” said Guillame. “Please, calm down. I’ll explain to you what it is we’re going to try.”

  “You should know,” said Fleur, “when my army gets here, I’ll burn you down as easily as him.”

  He threw up his hands. “What will that accomplish? I haven’t got your daughter, and I don’t know where she is.”

  “So you say, but I think you might be lying,” she said. “Days keep passing by, and we’re nowhere closer to finding her.”

  “It’s not for lack of trying,” he said. “Please, there are innocent people in this castle, in the village—”

  “I will do whatever is necessary to get Margo back.”

  “I know that, but what you’re doing isn’t going to help. And it’s as I’ve been trying to explain, I have a plan. Now, if you’d just allow me to—”

  “Your last plan didn’t work so well,” she said.

  The doors to the throne room opened, and a musqueteer came in. “Forgive me, but Carale Lombardi is out here, demanding entrance, and—”

  “Yes, let him in,” said Guillame.

  Fleur raised her eyebrows. “Why are you bringing in the carale?”

  Carale Lombardi and Atlas strode into the throne room, coming up the dais and stopping there. They both looked pleased with themselves.

  “We know which men he has with him, Dubois—er, Your Majesty,” said Lombardi.

  “And you’re sure of it?” said Guillame. “These aren’t defectors or on leave?”

  “No,” said Atlas. “Other musqueteers were covering for them. They are all very afraid, as you say, but we were able to get to the bottom of it. There are six he took, a troupe that usually works together. They’ve been gone for over a week.”

  “Excellent,” said Guillame, smiling.

  “What does that matter?” spoke up Fleur.

  “Well, one of them is going to come back to check in,” said Lombardi.

  “Yes,” said Atlas, “and when they do, we’ll be waiting and we’ll follow them back to wherever it is that Remy is keeping your daughter.”

  Fleur narrowed her eyes at Atlas. “Who are you? You’re not a musqueteer. You’re not a fief.”

  “Atlas is… with me,” said Guillame.

  Fleur furrowed her brow. “I remember you. You were on that ship when Guillame captured me off the ferry leaving Rzymn.”

  Atlas winked at Fleur. “Pleasure to see you again, Queen Fleur.”

  “Atlas,” she said softly. “The pirate.”

  “Atlas is not the concern,” said Guillame. “Unless you’re jealous, in which case, I would say that you could—”

  “I’m not,” said Fleur. “Because whatever there was between you and me is long over.”

  “Yes,” said Guillame. “All that matters is that he is here, helping me.”

  “I’m retired from piracy,” said Atlas.

  “Have any the musqueteers with Remy checked in before?” said Fleur.

  Guillame turned to look at Lombardi and Atlas.

  “Well… no,” said Lombardi.

  “Then why do you think they will now?” said Fleur, putting both of her hands on her hips.

  “They will,” said Guillame. “This will work.”

  * * *

  “This isn’t going to work,” Guillame muttered. He was in the sitting room to his bedchamber, sitting down, his head in his hands. “We’re never going to find him. He could be anywhere, and we’ve got no idea where to look. We should have sent out search parties in every direction right after he left—”

  “And if they found him, they wouldn’t report back,” said Atlas. “He’s the king. They’ll obey him.”

  “I don’t understand why he never came back when I declared myself having taken over his kingdom,” said Guillame. “It’s all that’s ever mattered to him.”

  “Perhaps he’s found something else that matters,” said Atlas, sitting down opposite Guillame.

  Guillame sighed.

  “You’re the one who said that if it was your son—”

  “I know what I said, but Remy has been single-mindedly pursuing domination forever. I’ve never known him to care about anything else. Even Fleur, he wanted her magic. He thought together they’d be unstoppable. I don’t know if he would have wanted her as much if it hadn’t been about that.”

  “People can change,” said Atlas. “You’ve changed.”

  “Have I?” Guillame looked at him. “I don’t know if I have.”

  “You wouldn’t go back to your queen now,” said Atlas. “Not even if she asked you to. I could see that all over you when we met with her.”

  “No, I suppose I wouldn’t.” Guillame leaned back in his chair, passing a hand over his face. “But that’s only because…”

  “Because other people matter more to you than her? Including yourself?”

  Guillame laughed a little. “She’s different, too.”

  “I’m different as well,” said Atlas in a very deep voice.

  Guillame looked at him sharply.

  “I was too hard on you all those years ago,” said Atlas.

  “No, I betrayed you. More than once.”

  “But the things you went through, Guillame, with your father, being on your own so young… I was afraid of being hurt, and I let that lead me. I condemned you too quickly. You weren’t wrong that I might have pushed you into her arms.”

  “No.” Guillame shook his head. “No, that wasn’t fair of me to try to shift the blame. When I think about how much I must have hurt you—but back then, I didn’t seem to be able to think about such things. I thought more about myself, about what I felt.”

  “As did I,” said Atlas. “I was only worried about my own pain, not about easing yours.”

  The two men gazed at each other.

  Atlas lifted his chin. His voice was gravelly. “I don’t know what happens later. I don’t know if we get out
of the other side of this or not. And I know that no matter what, you’ll need to be with your son. So… I’m not asking for the future right now, but I am…”

  “What?” Guillame barely breathed it.

  “You know how I said I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to unlace your trousers? Well, I think I do.” He arched an eyebrow.

  Guillame drew in an audible breath. He got up from his chair and went to the other man, offering him his hand. He pulled Atlas to his feet.

  When their lips met, it was like the crash of the sea—tempestuous and salty and wild, but familiar. Like coming home.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  My army was camped on the river. They’d arrived two days before, and I certainly couldn’t house them all in inns at the port. They could have stayed on the ships, but that made me look as if I wasn’t committed, and I was.

  It had been over two weeks since I’d seen my daughter.

  I ached for her. I was beginning to lose my mind. I itched to do something. I felt so helpless.

  Guillame was right that attacking the castle did nothing if I didn’t know where Remy was. And if he hadn’t come back when Guillame had taken his throne, what would he care if I burned down his home?

  But it was the only card I had to play, and I couldn’t sit around doing nothing.

  I was camped with the army, but I couldn’t sleep. After tossing and turning in the cot in my tent, I had gotten up and swathed myself in a cloak. Now, I was walking the outer perimeters of the camp, staring out into the darkness of the Dumonte landscape.

  There was so little cover here. I was used to the trees and mountains of Islaigne, but here, everything was bare. There was farmland further north, along the river. We weren’t near enough to see the farms, however.

  When he walked out of the darkness, he seemed to solidify out of thin air. He was wearing a long, black cloak that flared out behind him. He strode toward me, head held high, and I gaped at him.

  Then I launched myself into his body with all the force I could muster.

  He caught me, wavering, but he didn’t lose his balance.

  I lifted my fists to hit him.

  He grabbed them. “I didn’t know which tent was yours. I wasn’t sure how I was going to find you.”

  “Where is she, Remy?”

  “She’s in your old quarters at the top of the west tower under heavy guard,” said Remy. “I’m giving her back to you, but we need to talk first. I can’t go without ever seeing her again. We have to find some way—”

  “Are you insane?” I was going to start crying. I had only cried in front of Remy once, and I’d been mortified when I did it. I didn’t want to cry now. “You think you can negotiate—”

  “You should never have kept her from me.”

  I shook my head. “No, no, no, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to pretend as if it’s both of our faults. You kidnapped her. She’s been all alone, and she’s never been away from me before, and—”

  “I have taken care of her,” he said. “She misses you, but she’s very… strong. She is all right. She has eaten a consistent diet of bread animals and little else, because she doesn’t like very sharp cheese or any kind of vegetable that I can detect. I did get her to eat grapes, but we didn’t have enough of those. I tucked her in and told her stories and chased her around the meadows in the day, and she laughed and was happy, and I promise you she’s all right.”

  Tears started leaking out of my eyes. “You… you wretched, wretched—” I couldn’t go on without losing it.

  “I can’t lose her again,” he said in a funny sort of voice, a tone I’d never heard from him before.

  “Again?” I managed, clenching my hands into fists. “You have not lost her before. It is I who have—”

  “I did,” he said. “I was unaware of the loss, but that doesn’t mean knowing it now hasn’t destroyed me.” And the tone, it was… he was near tears as well.

  I didn’t know how to react to that. “You don’t get to—”

  “You stole it all from me, Fleur.” His voice broke. “Years. You saw her first words and her first steps, can you give those back to me?”

  “Would you have paid her any attention? You would have been too busy at war.”

  “No, I don’t think I would have been,” he said. “I don’t think so at all.”

  I shook my head at him. “I will take your magic, all of it, forever.” I started toward him.

  He evaded my touch. “I have thought that perhaps she could come in the Dumonte summers. You would have her most of the year, but she could stay with me for three months. It’s not enough, but I know you will never agree to letting me have her half of the time. And perhaps I don’t deserve it. You’re right. Taking her from you was abominable. I have no excuse for doing such a thing. What do you say?”

  “No,” I said, shaking with too much emotion. “Here’s what needs to happen. You bring her to me now, or I will burn my way to her. I will destroy everything in my path until she is back in my arms.”

  He took a deep breath. “You’re angry. Of course you’re angry. But if you could just—”

  “I will kill you, Remy Toussaint,” I said in a fierce whisper. “This time I will not lose my nerve.”

  He lifted his hand, running his thumb over the scar on his palm. He backed away from me, and the darkness swallowed him up again.

  I ran after him, yelling his name, but it was as though he’d disappeared into nothingness.

  * * *

  I didn’t waste any time. I went back and woke Solene and Bisset, and I said we would march on the castle now.

  Bisset tried to speak to me about it. He said that if we knew where Margo was being held that we should simply send firestarters to break through Remy’s guard and recapture the princess from the castle.

  But I wanted him to suffer. I wanted to take from him the things that he’d always wanted. I wanted to burn his kingdom to the ground. So, I said no, that I wanted the army to march as soon as possible.

  Solene was concerned about Margo in the tower.

  I said we’d leave the tower intact. I could do that. I could put out the flame before it reached her. I was in control. I could do this, and I would.

  Within an hour, the army was moving. A line of fifteen firestarters led the charge. A wall of flame preceded us, burning anything in our path.

  It was Dumonte, so that mostly consisted of scraggly scrub brushes, a few rock outcroppings, and the stones that lined the road, but we left nothing behind.

  Behind the firestarters, my archers marched over the blackened earth, and behind them came knights with swords.

  We did not make it to the castle before we were met by the Dumontian army, which outnumbered us.

  But the firestarters poured flame into the ranks of the army, taking out men like a wave of the ocean. They screamed as the flames burned through them.

  The next time I tried it, however, Remy was there, laying down a protective layer of flame. My flames did not cross his flames. I supposed he knew about this sort of defense, having fought for years against another firestarter.

  But he was the only one with the power on his side, and I had fifteen.

  I ordered ten of the firestarters to scatter, leaving five to attempt to burn from the front of the advancing lines, and the other ten to fan out from the sides and the back, to burn what they could.

  Another wave of fire got in, destroying a huge number of Dumontian men.

  But Remy managed to encircle the rest of the army with his own flame.

  So, I marched through my own wall of flame and knelt down on the ground, reaching out with my power. I doused his fire.

  He saw me, from the opposite side of the camp. He threw out another circle of fire.

  I doused that one. I tried to reach out and touch him with my mind. I wanted to douse his power from afar. I had tried this before, and never managed it. Maybe now I could, though. I was the strongest I’d ever been.

  But though I cou
ld feel his power’s origin, I couldn’t douse it.

  I needed to be able to physically touch him.

  Blazes.

  He lit another circle of fire and then a cannon ball exploded into the dirt two feet from my body.

  I went flailing backwards, frightened.

  Blaze Remy. Blaze him to the blazing blazes.

  I retreated back behind my wall of protective flame. My firestarters were back for orders, since they were unable to penetrate Remy’s circle of flame. He and I could go back and forth all day, my dousing his flame, his starting it back up again, but it would do nothing but tire me out. I didn’t think that using his magic tired Remy. He seemed to have an endless source flowing just beneath his skin.

  Maybe it did tire him, but I wasn’t about to exhaust myself on a possibility.

  Cannon balls were coming through the flames from Remy.

  Bullets didn’t seem to go through the living flame. They would burn up on their way, never making it without becoming ash.

  But the cannons would catch flame on their way and then come through as balls of hot flame. They would burn out, too, but not before striking and causing damage.

  Remy had a lot more cannons than I did. I had two.

  I readied them and returned fire.

  Using my firestarters, I had them escort archers to nearby rock outcroppings, so that they could climb up higher and send arrows down into the Dumonte army.

  We fought.

  Dawn struggled into the sky and we fought on.

  There were hot flames everywhere. Clouds of black smoke rose in the air above us. The sounds of cannons exploding rang through the air, echoing off the rocky landscape of Dumonte.

  By midmorning, I knew that we were taking too many casualties. Remy’s cannons were doing their work. My troops were also tired.

  I ordered a retreat, leaving a wall of flame burning until we had safely gotten far enough back. During this time, Remy’s men were still firing cannons through the fire at us, but they were harmlessly burning up when they hit nothing.

  I was worried that Remy would push on after us, pressing his advantage, but he didn’t. When he realized we had retreated, he pulled his army back inside the walls of the castle.