Blood Mercy (Blood Grace Book 1)

by Vela Roth

  Solia reached up and gave Lady Iris’s hand a squeeze. “Thank you.”

  “Regardless of what comes to pass after today, Your Highness, this is the only time you’ve ever had a partner for the Autumn Greeting. Every woman deserves to enjoy her promise dance.”

  Solia didn’t answer.

  Lady Iris reached for something on the dressing table. Glass clinked on wood. There came the pop of a cork. Suddenly the whole room smelled like flowers. “This is the only time you get to use the ceremonial fragrances, which the myths say Kyria herself wore when Anthros took her as his bride. Mark my words. The sacred scents of autumn will make you feel like the goddess you represent in the dance tonight.” The pop of another cork, and a new cloud of sweet smells. “Allow me the honor of anointing you, My Princess.”

  Solia held out her hands.

  Cassia watched Lady Iris roll up Solia’s embroidered velvet sleeves. The handmaiden began to spread one of the scent oils over Solia’s hands. The fragrance smelled so good. Why wasn’t Solia smiling?

  Lady Iris used each oil on Solia’s hands, face and hair. When the handmaiden corked the bottles at last, Solia’s lovely fair skin gleamed, and her wavy blond locks were smooth and shiny. Lady Iris proceeded to dress Solia’s hair with fancy blue velvet ribbons. At last Lady Iris nestled a circlet of solid gold atop Solia’s hair, the delicate filigreed one they saved for very special occasions.

  Cassia didn’t like the fragrances anymore. She had a headache, and Solia looked like she felt sick, too.

  Her work done, Lady Iris gazed at Solia in the mirror once more. “Isn’t our princess the most beautiful woman in the world, Lady Cassia?”

  Everyone knew that was true. Cassia burrowed nearer against her sister’s skirts. “Oh, yes.”

  “Come up here, my brave little Pup.” Solia patted her lap.

  Cassia crawled out from under the dressing table and climbed into her sister’s lap.

  Solia wrapped her arms around Cassia and cradled her close, looking at her in the mirror. “Do you know who is the most beautiful girl in the world? You.”

  Cassia blushed with pleasure. She didn’t have golden hair and fair skin like Solia and Lady Iris. But if Solia told Cassia she was beautiful, it must be true, no matter what anyone else said.

  Solia planted a kiss on Cassia’s cheek. “Don’t worry about the fall dance. Father and I are playing a game with Lord Bellator. We will win, and I won’t have to marry anyone. I’ll get to stay here at Solorum with you. Just think of all the pretty flowers we can add to the garden when spring comes. You know I’ll need your help, for the flowers always grow best when you plant them.”

  “Can I help you with the game?” Cassia asked.

  “You’re such a good girl. But you don’t have to help with Lord Bellator. I will take care of everything. What I want you to do is keep learning how to be a lady. Do you remember what I taught you?”

  Cassia nodded proudly. Solia taught her how to be a lady every day, and Cassia was getting very good at it. Much better than she was at reading.

  Solia smiled at her in the mirror. “All right. What’s first?”

  “A lady always listens carefully.”

  “Exactly. What’s next?”

  “A lady always tries to understand what’s going on.”

  “Very good. Third?”

  “A lady always keeps secrets.”

  “Yes, that one is important indeed. Keep going, my little lady.”

  “A lady always keeps ivy. A lady always dresses correctly. A lady always honors the queen. A lady can walk through fire!”

  “Perfect, from start to finish, my clever Pup. You learn so quickly!”

  “Your Highness,” Lady Iris interrupted. “You are expected at the temple. It is time for Lady Cassia’s nurse to take her back to her own rooms.”

  Cassia should try harder to be good. But Solia wouldn’t scold her for telling the truth. Cassia confessed softly, “I don’t want to go with Nurse.”

  “I don’t want you to go with Nurse, either. But it will only be for a little while. I’ll be back from the dance before you have to go to sleep.” Solia hugged her even tighter, hiding her face against Cassia’s neck. “No matter what happens, you will always be with me, understand?”

  “Even if you have to get married someday?”

  “Yes, Cassia. I will never let anyone, neither Father nor a husband, part me from you.”

  Silence

  I will never let anyone part me from you.

  Cassia silently recited Solia’s promise to herself again. Hugging her knees, she tucked her cold feet deeper under her skirt and watched their father. From her place at the back of his tent, she could look between all the tall men and see their father’s arm, his shoulder, and his blond hair. Not his face.

  But he wouldn’t be worried. She was sure of it. He never lost.

  She hugged her knees closer. Somebody would get hurt again, but Father would win, and Solia would get to leave Lord Bellator’s castle. Then they would all go home to Solorum. When spring came in a fortnight and a half, she and Solia would plant new flowers in the garden.

  Nurse’s sharp fingers tapped Cassia between her shoulders. She startled in her chair and dropped her feet to the ground. She must be on her best behavior so she would get to stay here and see Solia as soon as she came out of the castle. Cassia didn’t want to lose her special privilege of remaining with Father in his camp instead of having to travel onward with his court.

  Cold seeped up through the pelt on the floor from the icy dirt beneath, chilling her feet even through her leather shoes and soft wool stockings. She eyed her new puppy. Knight sat next to her chair, his back paws sprawled to one side and part of his belly peeking out of his fur. He didn’t look like he was cold. Would he mind sitting a little closer to her? With a nervous glance at Nurse, Cassia leaned down and gently picked up her dog the way the kennel master had shown her, then set Knight on her feet. His body was warm, his fur soft. He wiggled a little, then stretched out over her shoes and laid down his head.

  The tent flap flew open. Cassia leaned to one side to peer through the crowd at the man who entered. He was wearing Father’s blue and gold livery, like many of the men who had come in and out today. Cassia straightened her back and listened.

  The man thumped his fist against his chest in a messenger’s salute. “My King.”

  He sounded anxious. Cassia gripped her hands together in her lap.

  Her father’s silence was an order for the messenger to speak. The only thing worse than telling Father something he didn’t want to hear was not talking when he wanted you to.

  The man finally went on. “It appears Lord Bellator was informed of Her Highness’s whereabouts at Your Majesty’s pleasure palace at Desidia. He knows Your Majesty authorized Lord Altius to pay court to Her Highness there.”

  Lord Hadrian’s gruff voice erupted in a string of words Cassia wasn’t allowed to say. He always sounded like he wanted to hurt someone. “Whose tongue shall I cut out for betraying our future queen?”

  “The rat’s identity remains unknown, Your Lordship. We know Her Highness’s party left Desidia safely, but before they could join the court on the road to Solorum, Lord Bellator waylaid them. He brought her here to Castra Roborra with the aid of Lord Evandrus. The princess’s guard could not withstand the combined forces of two free lords.” The messenger cleared his throat. “Now we stand against four. Lords Reman and Mareus have joined Her Highness’s captors inside the fortress with their own warriors.”

  “I see,” said Father.

  Cassia struggled not to cry. She must not shut her eyes and stop listening. A lady always tries to understand what’s going on.

  “So Reman and Mareus have thrown in their swords as well,” Lord Hadrian snarled. “The cowards who call themselves ‘sovereign’ free lords. If they have aligned with Bellator and Evandrus, this may prove far more dire than a simple demand for ransom.”

  “The traitors will not manage
to put aside their petty squabbles for long,” Father replied. “This union against Us will be short-lived.”

  Horns sounded in the camp. Cassia jumped in her chair again. The tent flap snapped back once more, and strangers crowded inside to present themselves to her father.

  “Is Lord Bellator prepared to receive Us in the castle?” Father asked.

  “Lord Bellator will grant nothing in exchange for nothing,” one of the strangers answered.

  “Admit Us into Castra Roborra, and his wedding to my daughter will take place. We made Our terms clear.”

  “Lord Bellator has no further interest in your daughter for that purpose.”

  “Then he is a fool.”

  “My lord instructs me to say you are the fool to think you could deceive him.”

  Cassia widened her eyes. They had dared to insult her father. Now she knew who would get hurt today.

  But the stranger, Lord Bellator’s messenger, continued. “My lord is now wise to your intentions. Your support for his courtship of your daughter amounted to nothing more than empty promises to win the concessions you desired from him. As soon as you got what you wanted, you planned to withdraw the offer of marriage. Even now you are in talks with Lord Altius about a betrothal between him and the girl, as if you think my lord would stand by while you barter a place in the line of succession to his rival.”

  “Lord Bellator is mistaken,” Father said calmly. “Lord Altius has no claim on my daughter’s hand, and no man in this kingdom has a claim on my throne.”

  Cassia had known the secret. Father was playing the game with Lord Altius, too. Solia had explained why she had to go to Desidia so Lord Altius could spend some time with her. But she had reassured Cassia she wouldn’t marry him, either. Father always won.

  Lord Bellator’s messenger must know he was losing, for he sounded angry. “You do my lord the insult of lying to his face. Your deceit has come to light, and you can no longer deny you are forsworn. The Autumn Greeting is a promise of betrothal, one on which you never intended to deliver. My lord will not tolerate your faithless disregard for your oaths, nor will the Sovereign Free Lords of the Tenebrae endure your violations of their ancient rights, promised them in the Free Charter laid down by our ancestors.”

  All the men in the tent started talking at once, some of them quietly and others, like Lord Hadrian, loud and angry.

  “Lord Bellator offers new terms.” The messenger spoke over everyone. “You will return all the gifts he bestowed upon you, thinking he paid a bride price. Along with them, you will cede Regnum Ceposum to its rightful sovereign, Lord Reman. You will reaffirm Lord Mareus’s exclusive right to collect tolls for passage across the Palla River. You will…”

  The names went on and on, and although Cassia tried to make sense of them all, there were too many she hadn’t learned about yet. At last, the list ended in the only name that mattered.

  “You have elevated yourself above the lords who were once your peers,” the messenger concluded, “and presumed to make yourself the first of a new royal dynasty. If you do not agree to the terms as dictated, my lord shall see to it you are also the last of your line. You have until nightfall, at which time, if you have not delivered, Sovereign Lord Bellator shall order the execution of your only scion and heir, Solia.”

  Cassia stared at her father. Now it was certain. Father would kill Bellator and the other lords so Solia could come home.

  Their father did not move in his chair. “I refuse his terms.”

  The tent was silent.

  The messenger’s face twisted into disbelief. “This is not a bluff. If you refuse, her life is forfeit. Your only heir.”

  “I have the sword to get me another.”

  Cassia clutched her middle. The wail came out of her anyway.

  “Silence that noise,” the king ordered.

  Nurse tried to pull Cassia to her feet. But Cassia’s whole body shook, and she could not stand. The sobs would not stop. It took one of the soldiers to pry her off the chair. He took Knight by the ruff and carried them both, whimpering, out of the king’s presence.

  In the confines of her own tent, Cassia wailed while they waited for nightfall. She tried to hide her crying in her blankets, but it was not enough. Nothing could stop the whole camp from hearing her shame.

  Catapults

  The light in the tent had faded by the time Cassia managed to be silent. If she was not quiet, Nurse would make her drink an infusion. If Cassia had to take it, she would fall asleep. She could not sleep, not while this was happening to Solia. She held Knight’s soft, floppy body close to her and swallowed her tears.

  She was still awake when she heard the catapults.

  A shiver moved down her back. It was night. She had heard the guards say the siege would not begin until dawn, when the rest of her father’s army arrived.

  Had they come early to rescue Solia? She heard the crunch of heavy boots on the icy ground outside and the clank of swords. Voices mixed together, and she couldn’t understand. She eased out of her bedroll and scooted toward the tent flap. A furry form wriggled close. With one arm around Knight, she raised the tent flap an inch. A chill crept inside.

  Nurse’s arms wrapped around both of them and hauled them back. Her crooning words drowned out the voices outside. She pulled a thick woolen cap onto Cassia’s head and down over her ears, and all chance to hear clearly was lost. Wrinkled hands pressed her face against a bony chest, as if expecting her to start crying again. But that wouldn’t help now. If someone was attacking the castle to help Solia, Cassia had to know.

  In a display of obedience, Cassia crawled back into her bedroll and hid her face against Knight instead. Nurse let out a sigh. Her hand came to rest on Cassia’s back and stayed there for a long time. Cassia lay very still and slowed her breathing.

  It seemed she waited forever. If Nurse tried to stay up the whole night, Cassia didn’t know what she would do. But eventually Nurse withdrew her hand, and a blanket rustled as she settled into her own bedroll. At long last, she began to snore.

  Cassia put her mouth close to Knight’s keen ear and whispered one of the new words she had learned from the kennel master. “Baat.” Her puppy laid his head on his paws and waited in the bedroll while Cassia found her cloak by feel. With it tucked under her arm, she crept to the back of the tent and squeezed between the floor pelts and the wall. Cold bit at her skin as she slithered out onto the ground. The slush of ice and mud made it hard to keep quiet, so she moved very slowly.

  The huge moons loomed overhead. She unfolded her cloak and wrapped it close around her. She could see no one else from where she stood. The noise from a moment ago had all gone quiet. It didn’t sound like anyone from their camp was attacking the castle. Surely someone, somewhere, was still talking about what had happened.

  Cassia was actually very good at being quiet, except for when she had cried today. She got a lot of practice making herself unseen and unheard, and everything in the camp was much bigger than her, which meant there were lots of good hiding places. She darted from one to another, listening. Finally faint voices caught her attention, and she followed the sound. She crouched at the back of one of the long tents where the soldiers slept.

  “They sent her retinue over the walls first,” a man said. “What was left of them. Then her.”

  Cassia slid to her knees. She couldn’t think. Maybe they didn’t mean what she thought they did.

  “I can’t bear to think of it,” came another man’s voice.

  “Then don’t,” a third said, “and whatever you do, don’t say it.”

  “I don’t care if it is treason. I’ll say it. It’s immoral, what he’s done.”

  “Hypnos take you. I won’t be caught listening to such things.”

  “It’s you I hope Hypnos takes,” the first man cried, “and the king with you. Someone ought to speak the truth aloud. How could he do such a thing to our Solia? He abandoned her. Her. Left her to suffer and die. There’s no telling what they di
d to her before the end. We don’t even know if she had her rites. This is unholy, leaving her and the guards and servants who died for her on the field without a proper burial. You heard the royal mage. Honored Master Orumos said the—” His voice faltered. “The Hesperines are abroad tonight. They will desecrate her before dawn.”

  Mercy

  Cassia swallowed again and again. She mustn’t be sick. They would hear her.

  Heavy footfalls sounded inside the tent, and all speech ceased. Lord Hadrian broke the silence. “I thought I heard a disturbance.”

  No one answered.

  “What I thought I heard troubled me. Words that sounded like treason, which gets soldiers killed. But I’ve had orders shouted in my ears since I was a scrap. I must have misheard. Speak up, men! Tell me what I really heard.”

  The man who had started all the talk answered. “Yes, my lord. I would give my oath in the temple that no words were spoken which were treasonous against the rightful monarch.”

  “Good. The king decides whether he can spare any men to retrieve the fallen. The king decides if he can trust the enemy to honor a white flag and not rain arrows from the walls, and if he can afford to lose the men who might not make it back. He also decides the severity of the message he needs to send the enemy in order to make it clear he is not concerned about the security of his position on the throne.”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  There came the sound, almost inaudible, of a heavy hand falling to rest on a broad shoulder.

  Lord Hadrian’s voice was quieter than ever before. “What I’m certain I heard were the words of a man willing to sacrifice anything for the sake of our rightful queen. Our Solia. Such a man puts to shame he who would not do the same.”

  “My lord,” said his soldier, “I won’t let this go unsaid, if the king has my tongue for it. You’ve been in council with him for hours. You shouted yourself hoarse. If starting the siege could have saved her, you’d drive the battering ram yourself. If the kingdom was yours, you’d hand over ever acre for her sake. Every man here knows you did all you could.”