White Rook

by Ingrid Seymour

  WHITE ROOK

  Vampire Court

  Ingrid Seymour

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  WHITE ROOK

  First edition. May 2, 2019

  Copyright © 2019 Ingrid Seymour

  Written by Ingrid Seymour

  Cover Designed by Deranged Doctor Designs

  To Ossie… my feline desk companion

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Get Notified

  Also by Ingrid Seymour

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  The sword would be the weapon for my challenge against Alben.

  He had pulled out a pawn piece from the Challenge Vessel and now stood across from me, chin held high, a grateful look in his eyes.

  Breen had threatened to start a rumor about Alben’s sister. She’d told him that if he didn’t convince me to challenge him, she would whisper to Rook Daciana that Alben’s little sister was a Trove.

  And, when everything was said and done, it wouldn’t matter that it was a lie because if his tender sister was delivered to the Queen, her fate would be the same whether or not she was a Trove. Our monarchs weren’t known for their mercy.

  So I’d had no choice but to challenge Alben, even without his asking. I couldn’t stand the thought of a child, any child, in the Queen’s hands.

  I hadn’t planned to do it so quickly after my challenge with Skender, and I certainly wouldn’t have done it with an injured leg. It hurt badly. Just an hour ago it had been crushed between my mare and Skender’s horse.

  But what other choice did I have? The challenge was inevitable, essential to my plans. I only wished I hadn’t been injured—my thigh was deeply bruised and my knee was stiff.

  My limp would make a win against Alben seem less convincing.

  Because I would win. He would let me. We had arranged it a week ago.

  Now, Knight Kelsus stepped into the checkerboard fighting area. He was present this time, still looking wary about my decision to challenge Alben so soon.

  After Vinna told me about Breen’s threat, I had gone straight to Knight Kelsus to issue my challenge against his Fourth Pawn. He’d just finished hearing everyone’s account of what had happened during my race against Skender, how the brute had tried to muscle me out of the race by striking my horse in the face with his crop. And in his wisdom, Knight Kelsus had decided that I was the fair winner, that there’d been no foul play from my part.

  And then, I’d limped into his office issuing a new challenge.

  “Why are you doing this, Challenger Flagfall?” he had asked from behind his desk, narrowing his eyes at me, his many braids perfectly held back away from his face by a leather thong. “It’s unnecessary.”

  “I’m feeling lucky,” I said, staring at the White Court’s coat of arms on the wall behind him. While, at my back, my hands twisted together, slick with sweat.

  “You’re injured,” he said, gesturing toward my leg. “It’s not a smart decision.”

  As I stood there, I wanted to know what he was thinking. Why did he care if I issued a challenge now? If it wasn’t the most optimal time? Was he worried about me? Or did he suspect something else was afoot?

  As much as my logical mind told me that it was the latter, my heart told me otherwise. Knight Kelsus did seem like a nice man, even if he’d had two doses of vampire blood—one when he became a Rook, and one when he gained his current rank. Even if his eyes shone red under a certain light and his dark skin—which should have been rich and warm—had a sickly tone to it.

  But I didn’t argue with him or try to convince him I was making the right decision. There would have been no point in that. Instead, I’d just stood there, staring at the wall, reading the words on the coat of arms over and over.

  Semper Lumen. Semper Lumen. Semper Lumen.

  They had it all wrong. There was no light in this place.

  EVERYONE FROM THE FIRST Quadrant was present for the challenge. Knight Ferko, The Decapitator, sat next to his Rook and Pawns on the right side of the hall. She wore the same stern, bored expression she always did. I figured she’d come because Knight Kelsus had. Maybe there was some unspoken rule about that. Certainly, she wasn’t here to assess the skill of possible future contenders. Ferko was nothing but certain that no one below her rank could defeat her. As for my Quadrant, it was the same. All four Pawns and Rook Daciana were here.

  Seeing all these attendants, anyone would have thought this was a challenge for First Pawn, at least. It seemed the unusual circumstances had caused some additional interest.

  Knight Kelsus bowed slightly, then spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Today, Challenger Bianca Flagfall faces Fourth Pawn Alben Sternglade. If Flagfall defeats Sternglade, she will become Fourth Pawn, while Sternglade will suffer whatever fate the new Fourth Pawn decides for him.”

  Alben bowed, a hand on the hilt of his sword. I did the same, and even that small movement made my leg hurt. My knee felt terribly uncomfortable, my white pants tight around it. I hadn’t looked at it yet, but I suspected it wouldn’t be pretty. My thigh hurt, too. It felt tender, a sign that, later, I would develop a nice, multicolored bruise the size of Acedrex.

  Alben’s sword sang as he pulled it out of its metal scabbard. Heart in my throat, I pulled mine out, too. We saluted each other the way we always did during our morning practices, holding the swords close to our faces, their tips pointing straight up.

  Then, he charged, crouching low, his right foot leading, his left hand held up behind him, while his right wielded the sword, immediately thrusting toward my middle.

  I barely had time to parry the strike and step aside. Pain like hot fire lanced through my knee as I bent it into fighting position and continued parrying Alben’s fast attacks.

  His sword was a blur as he thrust right and left, up and down, while I clenched my teeth against the pain and did my best to block him.

  My heart pounded, igniting my blood, sending tingling energy into my limbs. The pain was still there, but it became a bit easier to ignore.

  “We have to make it look convincing,” Alben had said when I presented him with my proposal to let me win when the time came to challenge him. “If we don’t, we’ll both end up very dead.”

  And as the tip of his sword cut through my jacket and grazed my arm, I knew he’d meant what he’d said.

  I hissed at the burning pain of my new injury, though it was nothing compared to that in my leg. Blood quickly seeped into the white fabric of my sleeve, blooming into a circle.

  Alben tipped his head forward and smiled with satisfaction. My heart took a tumble. Was he really pretending? Or was he trying to kill me?

  I’d given him all my money, all that Papa had left me, in exchange for his promise to let me win. Oh, gods. I was so stupid.

  He delivered another thrust, his boot stamping loudly against the floor. I met his sword with mine, the sound of metal against metal setting my teeth on edge. As I held his sword at bay, Alben threw his considerable weight forward, precariously bending my own weapon toward my face.

  Even as my knee seemed to split open from pain, I twirled out of the way. Alben stumbled forward and, as I ended up behind him, I sliced my sword across his back, but he was too fast for s
omeone his size and moved out of the way just in time.

  Pressing my slight advantage, I sliced again—this time toward his neck. Hair from his beard fluttered down to the floor.

  The spectators, which so far had been quiet, laughed. Alben stared down at his beloved beard, his eyes crossing as he inspected the damage.

  The tip was missing.

  He narrowed his eyes and, with a growl, lunged at me. He looked furious, like a bull on a rampage. My stomach shriveled as my survival instincts screamed at me to run. A beast was stampeding toward me, and I stood no chance—not when I was half his size.

  It took all I had to square my shoulders and stand my ground.

  Slightly, almost imperceptibly, Alben lifted his elbow just a fraction. As he did so, his mouth twitched in some sort of sign.

  All these past weeks as we’d trained, he’d tried to help me correct what he called my eager elbow—my stubborn joint that always seemed to want to stand out. The problem was: it left my side open for attack, and that was what Alben was doing now. He was giving me an opening.

  Without hesitation, I took it.

  Light on my feet, teeth still clenched against the pain in my knee, I bounced on the balls of my feet. Legs flexing, torso leaning forward, arm reaching, I slapped the side of Alben’s ribs with my sword, making it obvious that, if I had wanted to kill him, he would be dead now.

  There was more than one gasp of shock in the room. Wincing, I limped away from my opponent, not wishing to look at anyone and discover they hadn’t bought our little performance.

  But, knowing that I couldn’t avoid it, I took a deep breath and directed my gaze toward Knight Kelsus.

  He did, indeed, looked surprised, but not necessarily shocked. In fact, as my eyes roved around the room, all I saw were assessing glances, as if none of them had seen me as a real contender, and now they finally did.

  Knight Kelsus stepped forward. “I proudly accept a new member to the Board. Bianca Flagfall... you are now my Fourth Pawn.” He bowed slightly.

  I fought back my urge to curtsy and bowed instead.

  “Now, I must ask... what shall be the fate of your opponent, Alben Sternglade? Do you pardon him?”

  Pawns and Challengers on both sides of the room held their hands out and pointed their thumbs down.

  Across from me, Alben seethed, looking furious as he stared at the floor. He was doing more than a convincing job playing his part.

  “I do pardon him,” I said. He’s my friend, I wanted to add, but that would have been unwise.

  Knight Kelsus looked relieved for a moment, but his expression shifted to indifference so quickly that I wondered if it’d been my imagination.

  Turning to Alben, Knight Kelsus said, “Sternglade, it was an honor serving with you. Go back to your family with the Queen’s blessing. Thank you for your service.”

  CHAPTER 2

  I nearly collapsed to the floor as everyone filed out of the Challenge Hall.

  As the surge of energy I’d experienced during the fight subsided, shivers began sliding up my back and a cold sweat broke on my forehead. Within minutes, the pain in my knee became unbearable.

  When all the others had left, Vinna finally left the raised platform and walked to Alben. She patted his big shoulder but didn’t look in my direction.

  I hoped she wouldn’t hate me for driving her friend out of the Board. She had been nice to me until now, but after this, who knew? She didn’t know of my agreement with Alben. At least I hadn’t told her.

  They exchanged a few quiet words, while I gauged the distance to the door and wondered how I might cross it when I felt a swoon coming over me. I inhaled deeply and took a step forward. I staggered and a pathetic whimper escaped through my lips.

  Using the sword as a crutch, I practically hopped toward the door. As I passed, I heard Vinna and Alben arguing under their breath, but I didn’t dare look their way again.

  When I made it to the door, I stopped to take a breath, feeling as if the world were spinning out of control. The floor under my feet rocked sideways. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, and I began to fall.

  A strong arm wrapped around my waist and held me upright.

  “Watch it there, princess.” It was Vinna, bracing my body with hers, helping me place an arm over her shoulders. She pushed the door open and helped me walk outside, turning toward the infirmary. I’d never visited the place, but there was a first time for everything.

  “Vinna,” I said, surprised to see her next to me, while Alben remained behind by himself.

  “Yeah, yeah, Alben said I should help yeh. He has a big heart that oaf.” Her freckled face was pinched as if she thought Alben was a fool for sending help my way.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling a bit delirious and feverish.

  “Sorry ain’t needed,” she said. “It’s the nature of the game. We all knew it when we signed up. Better yeh got him out than someone else doin’ it. At least he’s still alive.”

  The sun had gone past its midpoint and was hidden behind a blanket cover of clouds, which I was grateful for since I felt so hot for some reason.

  After practically dragging me across the grounds, Vinna barged into the infirmary without knocking. A woman I’d seen before, entering the servant quarters, was sitting at a tall table atop a stool in the back of the long room. She wore a white kerchief to cover her hair, which peeked out around her ears. It was silver, shiny like metal. Her skin was bronzed like mine and, although she appeared to be middle-aged, there were barely any wrinkles on her face, except for a few laugh lines around her eyes.

  “I’ve got a patient for yeh, Nurse Loretta,” Vinna said. “Where should I put her?”

  The woman glanced up from her work, which appeared to be a bit of knitting.

  “First cot on your right,” she said in a decisive tone.

  There were six cots in total. Three on each side. They were perfectly clean with white sheets and thick, cotton blankets folded under white pillows. A night table with a metal basin on top of it stood next to each bed.

  With firm steps, Nurse Loretta came around her table and joined us as Vinna helped me sit on the cot. She wore a simple white dress that reached her ankles and a pristine apron wrapped around her waist.

  I winced and set my sword against the bed.

  “Not there,” Nurse Loretta said. “Put it in the corner against the wall and take it with you when you leave,” she instructed Vinna, regarding the sword as if it were a poisonous snake.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Vinna took a step back after picking up my sword and screwed her eyes behind the nurse’s back. I would have laughed at her silly expression if the pain in my leg hadn’t been so awful.

  “What ails you, girl?” Nurse Loretta asked.

  “My leg was smashed between two horses as I raced this morning,” I said. “It feels like it’s broken. Also, I feel feverish and dizzy.”

  She took a knee next to the cot, unbuckled my boots and pulled them off. After setting them aside, she helped me stand and removed my pants and jacket, leaving me only in my white shirt, which gratefully was long and hid my undergarments. I sat back down with her help, hissing at the pain and keeping my knee straight. It hurt too much to bend it.

  Nurse Loretta helped me lay down, accommodating the pillow under my head. “Vinna, would you mind fetching Aurora for me?”

  “No problem,” Vinna said, heading for the door and taking my sword with her. She didn’t glance back my way or say anything. She simply seemed glad to be rid of me.

  “Let’s take a look at that leg,” Nurse Loretta said, pulling out a short stool from under the cot and sitting on it.

  Calmly, she examined my leg, probing it here and there, and holding my knee with both hands as she asked me to flex it.

  “It’s not broken,” she declared after a moment. “But it is badly sprained and bruised. Nothing we can’t fix.”

  After she was done examining my leg, she switched her attention to the cut on my arm, ro
lling up the sleeve.

  “This is shallow,” she said with a nod.

  Next, with a cool hand that felt heavenly, she touched my forehead and cheeks. Her touch was tender, and reminded me of the many times Talyssa had watched over me when I’d caught a cold or I’d eaten something that didn’t agree with me.

  The sorrow I’d kept at bay as I’d pretended to be strong these last eight weeks broke free from its walls and pressed against my ribs as if ready to burst. I bit on my lower lip, trying to contain the tears that sprung to my eyes, but it was no use. They spilled out all the same.

  Nurse Loretta pulled her hand away and watched me with care, assessing me with deep brown eyes.

  “It must hurt a lot,” she said after a moment in a tone that suggested she knew the pain was not the real reason for my tears.

  I nodded and swallowed hard, swatting the tears away. I hadn’t cried once since Papa died, but this day had been too much.

  Nurse Loretta stood, pushed the stool back under the cot, and walked toward the back of the infirmary.

  “I will be right back,” she said, disappearing through a side door.

  While she was gone, I got my emotions under control. I didn’t need the nurse gossiping and spreading rumors that I was a weakling. I’d been working steadily to dissipate the idea that I was a spoiled, rich girl, who had a fancy for becoming a Board member. And today had gone a long way to ensure I appeared as a real contender. If there was something I understood it was that appearances mattered.

  If I walked into a ballroom staring meekly at the floor, I would pass unnoticed—worse yet, I would be purposely ignored. But if I walked with my head held high and my expression set with confidence, everyone would turn to look and they would begin to wonder about me, letting their imaginations run rampant as to my prowess. They might even grow to fear me, which could go a long way to undermine an opponent’s confidence.

  A few moments later, Nurse Loretta returned, carrying a tray with several implements on it. There was a pitcher and glass, a stack of neatly-folded cloths, and a couple of shallow containers.