The Ones Who Serve

by Jennifer Kenny

  “Have you tried to?” Thomas asked.

  Evangeline gave him one-shouldered shrug. “I just know it.” She told him. “I feel their life, and the trees are stronger near my power, but I cannot summon the trees to do my bidding. I do not have all the powers of the tree spirits.”

  “Just enough to cause you unwanted gossip.” Thomas smiled and walked closer to her. The trees did grow thick here, and he knew they could not be spotted easily within them. He reached for her hand, and when she gave it, he rose her hand to his lips. “If only they knew the truth about you.” He mused aloud.

  ---

  Kyleigh had reached the library and finding it still empty from her first trip here, and she was about to give up when she realised that Evangeline might be out on the grounds. It was not lost to the Queen that Evangeline did enjoy nature, and was known to spend hours just standing out in the sun or at the foot of trees. Gathering her skirts, the tired Queen left the main doors and started east. She would walk the full circuit around the castle's foundations if she needed to.

  Lucky for the ageing Queen, she did not need to look that far before she spotted Evangeline. And she was not alone. The tree obscured her vision, but it did not take much for Kyleigh to witness the pair in such a public display of affection. Stopping dead in her tracks she saw Evangeline standing too close to the young Thomas. Kyleigh closed her eyes in soft disappointment at what she was witnessing.

  She had known his parents and had been lucky to witness Thomas’ childhood within the castle. Thomas had always been eager to follow in his father’s military path, and as soon as he was able, he was applying himself to the training. Nothing could distract him from devouring the tactics and challenges that came with being security within the castle.

  Even then Kyleigh had known that the boy had such potential and yet here was proof that his care for the crown was nothing when facing the temptations of a beautiful young woman. In that one image, Kyleigh knew that what Glais had said was true. There was nothing wrong with the biological needs in Evangeline., She merely had them misdirected.

  Evangeline was laughing at whatever Thomas had said, and Kyleigh watched as Thomas turned her hand over and kissed her palm intimately. Evangeline was doing nothing to stop him and instead, Kyleigh was shocked to see that Evangeline cupped his face with a tender touch in return.

  “Eva,” Kyleigh called, making her presence known to them both. Instantly Thomas stepped away from Evangeline, bowing to his Queen as Evangeline swallowed hard and wondered just how much had Kyleigh seen.

  Kyleigh was smiling, but it was not the smile that Evangeline was accustomed to witnessing. It was strained, and forced, only the edges of her mouth rising, and Evangeline was not fooled for a moment. “I have been looking all over for you.” The Queen sighed, sounding breathless. The brisk walk to reach them had taken strength from her.

  Evangeline forced her smile to her lips. There was no point denying what Kyleigh would have seen. Not the most intimate of poses, but a man kissing her hands in the shade of the newly freed trees was not going to be explained easily. Evangeline did the only thing she could think of. She did not mention it all and would force Kyleigh to make the space more awkward. “I’m sorry. Were we supposed to see each other today?” Evangeline asked.

  “No, I was just coming to check that you were alright with the new restrictions.” Kyleigh eyed Thomas from head to foot and back again. “I see you have not forgotten to venture far from the castle without an escort.”

  Thomas and Evangeline shared an embarrassed look. Never had someone caught them, and Thomas had thought the trees would have protected them from spying eyes. Here was proof that he had put far too much faith in the Gods to keep his secret. It was a small miracle that it was Kyleigh and not anyone else.

  “The threat is serious. I understand that.” Evangeline said, clearing her throat. “I trust Quintus to handle it promptly and bring justice to those families that have been hurt.”

  Kyleigh nodded. “Yes, he will. Thomas, may I have a private moment with Evangeline?”

  Thomas bowed and walked away, stopping just far enough to keep the story of protection active, but he could not overhear the conversation. He felt confident that these trees would be safe for the women. The people of Braykith were so accustomed to their landscape that the changes were exciting to some, but to most, they feared what it meant. These trees continued to grow better than most due to their proximity to Evangeline, and for this alone, Thomas felt the area was safer than perhaps anywhere else. It was the reasoning that had made him bold in their interactions.

  Evangeline wiped her hands on her skirts, nervous about why Kyleigh would want a private audience. Still, Evangeline would not be the one to speak of what Kyleigh saw. She would play dumb for as long as she was able, which she suspected would not be very long at all.

  “Eva, you are lucky that it was me and not Quintus who saw this,” Kyleigh spoke low as if she was afraid of being overheard.

  Evangeline knew that not too many people came to stand under the shade of the trees, especially the small grove that grew by her bedroom windows but she still looked around to confirm there were no eavesdroppers. “It isn’t what you think.”

  “Really?” Kyleigh asked, looking to where Thomas stood. His hands were placed gently behind his back and clasping each other. He stood straight and tall, the years of training forcing him into the position of relaxed alertness, and yet Kyleigh knew that Evangeline would see something different when she looked at him. Kyleigh was admiring the Braykith traditions and training. Evangeline wondered what lay under the finely pressed uniform if she didn’t know already. Kyleigh shook her head and tried to remain composed.

  “You cannot do this,” Kyleigh said simply as if those words would be enough to make Evangeline stop. She did not expect her to put up much resistance to what was merely the truth.

  Evangeline would not be so easily moved. “I will be careful with being more discreet Kyleigh, and I am truly sorry that you needed to witness us, but I love him.”

  “You can love him all you want, but that is all.” Kyleigh took Evangeline’s hands in her own. “For the good of the crown, you must never act upon those desires.”

  Evangeline yanked her hands-free from Kyleigh, refusing to be pulled into her simplified views. “I should remain faithful to my husband while he beds every woman in the castle?” she asked.

  Kyleigh nodded. “It is the way it must be.”

  “Why?” Evangeline demanded, realising her voice was rising. She blushed in embarrassment, but Kyleigh held no ill will against her outburst. “Why must it be that way?” she hissed in a low voice, Evangeline struggling for control.

  Kyleigh sighed. “Do you honestly care for my son so little?”

  “Yes,” Evangeline answered without thinking and instantly regretted it. Kyleigh looked like she had been slapped, and Evangeline was sorry that it sounded so cruel. “I cannot go on pretending just for the crown.” She apologised.

  “That is not your decision to make.” Kyleigh slowly reformed her mask, but the hurt of Evangeline’s admission still stung. Kyleigh had thought Glais was overly dramatic with his confessions to her. Hearing it come from Evangeline only made her heart hurt. “We have no choice in our fates, just like the men we are tied to.”

  Evangeline shook her head. She could not be so forgiving of the curse that plagued Braykith. She did not believe that people seemed so ready to make excuses for the way Quintus and Glais treated the world. Everyone had a use in their eyes, and that was the only way they understood how to interact with people. It was a political game for the Kingdom, and a conservative game for the curse, but it all accumulated to a single path of systematic abuse. They used people and gave little concern to the outcome. Wick was an obvious example, and one Evangeline was tired of using to state her point.

  Evangeline doubted she could ever voice her complex concerns with Kyleigh. She knew the Queen would never understand them. “It isn’t fair that
I must be celibate while Glais is not.”

  Kyleigh nodded and patted Evangeline’s shoulder to comfort her, but it felt like an empty gesture. Evangeline knew that Kyleigh pitied her and did not see things her way at all. “I never said it is fair.” Kyleigh pointed out. “But it your life, and you must come to accept it as part of your job.”

  Evangeline felt like crying, and her eyes stung even though the tears did not fall. “Marriage should not be a job.” She countered but felt defeated.

  “But it is, and marriage to the men of Braykith comes with more baggage than most.” Kyleigh found her eyes wandered back to Thomas’ back and still he had not moved. “Is Glais aware of this?”

  “Of Thomas?” Evangeline asked, and Kyleigh nodded. “He knows.” Evangeline looked at the trunk of the closest tree to try and keep from telling Kyleigh exactly how much Glais knew about her relationship with Thomas. If Kyleigh knew how intimate they had been in the past, Evangeline doubted she would ever regain the woman’s love. Kyleigh cared for her sons as a mother should, and Evangeline realised just how awkward this conversation was for both of them.

  “Glais is not a stupid man.” Kyleigh was saddened to think of the torment that Glais was currently suffering alone. There were so few that Glais could speak to, but this situation would never be conversed about openly with anyone. “I will not interfere with your arrangement.” Kyleigh finally announced. “But I am warning you dear girl if you hurt my son, if you inflict upon him useless pain and cause a plague on this Kingdom, we will have more than words.”

  Evangeline was taken back by the threat but felt herself nod. “I only want to find the peace that satisfies Glais and myself.”

  Kyleigh nodded. “And you believe bedding other men will do that?”

  “No,” Evangeline admitted. “But I’m not bedding other men. I am spending time with only one.” It was an answer that Evangeline hoped would bring Kyleigh some comfort. This was not the beginnings of some out of control spree. From the look on Kyleigh’s face, it was not as comforting as Evangeline thought it would be.

  “Will that satisfy you?” Kyleigh asked, and there seemed to be a genuine curiosity regarding Evangeline’s answer.

  “I didn’t pick Thomas to hurt anyone. I didn’t pick him at all. It just became impossible to ignore any longer what was something.” She was shocked by her admission and how true it felt to say those things out loud. “From the moment we met, there was a spark.” Evangeline looked to Thomas but forced herself to focus back on Kyleigh. It felt rude to be looking at other men in front of her husband' mother. “I wish that spark did not exist Kyleigh, but it does and ignoring it was more hurt than I could bear.”

  Kyleigh grunted, not sure if she believed Evangeline, but she did not want this confrontation to get out of hand. “Do not forget your duty to your husband. Your promise as his wife, and the need to keep Glais happy.”

  Evangeline nodded. “No one seems to mind reminding me that I am only here to give him children and that my emotions are not important regarding that.” She said bitterly.

  Kyleigh laughed, mocking Evangeline as she walked back towards the castle. “You learn to love the one you have Eva, or you will go mad.” Kyleigh doubted that Evangeline would understand the real depth of her parting advice. “Thomas, come and escort an old Queen to her bed.”

  “Yes, your majesty.” Thomas snapped to attention at her orders. He looked back to Evangeline, but there was nothing to be said to her with the presence of the queen between them. Taking her arm when Kyleigh was close enough, Thomas moved off and left Evangeline standing in the trees alone.

  He didn’t look back, and he did not ask what had been said. Thomas would never be so brave.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  C hristof did not attempt to hide the blood that was on his clothes. If anything, he felt it would work in his favour as he pushed open the doors to the Crimah manor. He had not realised when he had first arrived just how far Crimah had deteriorated. The lands were desolate and void of life. Animals wandered freely, and there had not been a recent slaughter for food in days. When he had followed Sable’s advice, he had been suspicious of it. It seemed now that it was indeed true.

  There were such grand stories regarding Quintus and Braykith that it was increasingly difficult to understand what was a myth and what could be true. Like most children in the rebellion, he was raised on the horror stories of Braykith. The demon horses and mountain men who rode them chased him through his dreams. Those fears had followed him into adulthood, but slowly Christof realised that Quintus was just a man. Lately, with the help of Sable and his other spies, he came to understand that Quintus was very pig-headed and was starting to believe his lies. A man with a vast ego can be a dangerous thing.

  It had been exhilarating to watch the Braykith men approach Crimah and realise just how human their enemies were. Their mounts were plentiful but there was nothing demonic or inhuman in their breeding. Seeing the Braykith horses in person had been quite disappointing. No fire flared from their nostrils, and acid did not drip from their mouths. Christof and his band had taken refuge in the trees, and it was there that the last of the myths were shattered. Hearing all the disappointment in their voices as the Braykith Prince and his men discussed strategy had made Christof happy.

  This was not the speech of master manipulators or disguised shapeshifters. There was nothing extraordinary or legendary about these soldiers. They were merely men, and Christof listened in right over their heads without detection. It did not take much to realise that everything was worse than Sable could have imagined; better than Christof could have hoped.

  Christof and his men had spent days on the borders of the land, sneaking as close to the manor as they were able, hoping to gather useful information but never quite believing what they saw. Not all the homes were deserted. On the outer edges of the community, some people still lived, but they limited their exposure outside during the day. At night, Christof had witnessed the life that disappeared as the sun rose.

  The homes closest to the manor were empty. The wealthiest men and women of Crimah had once lived there, and Christof had taken refuge in one of the houses. It was strange to him that they had left most of the belongings behind. Whatever had caused these people to go, it had been impulsive. He had been young at the time, but Christof could still remember fleeing his own home. Like most of the people in the resistance now, he had been too young to understand what was happening, his mother had grabbed his hand and shouted for him to run. Christof wondered if the children of Crimah had been given the same advice.

  There was an unease settled over the lands. It chilled Christof even while he was fully clothed. It never left him but instead seemed to grow more demanding as he approached the manor with the blood of Baxter staining his skin. There had been no delay after killing the prince of Braykith. While he had left the few people he trusted to clear up the mess, Christof had marched to the manor.

  Although he was sure the homes were desolate, in the back of his mind, Christof expected an ambush to come at any moment. The silence was eerie, and the further he walked from the murder scene, the less distinctive the voices became. He swallowed hard, the back of his neck itching with the feeling of being watched. His hand stayed close to his weapon and Christof walked with caution up the central staircase that leads to the manor’s large double doors.

  While he was sure that the lands were empty of resistance, Christof did not drop his guard when he started searching the manor. Even from his vantage points outside he knew there was life within these walls. When he finally spotted someone, he barely paused. This was no trained soldier. Christof turned the corner, and a lone guard stood in the hallway. He clapped his hands together and grinned at the man dressed in red. “Do you want to flee or fight?” Christof asked.

  The guard was barely more than a boy, and the way his hand trembled on the hilt of the sword that seemed too big for him only made Christof’s smile widen. The guard tried to muster courage, but he o
nly stumbled a backwards step as Christof moved forward. “Please, I am just a villager.” He begged, taking his hand away from his sword hilt.

  Christof spat on the ground, disgusted by the excuse. “When your Lord came for us, I was just a villager. I was never trained to fight, and I never imagined I would know how it would feel to take a life. I was just a boy when your leaders came into my home and destroyed it. I was barely even of age when I was forced to take up arms and absorb everything while in the midst of war.”

  The boy shook his head. “I had no choice.” His voice cracked, and Christof waited for him to cry, but to the Crimah guard’s credit, he did not.

  “You have a choice now.” Christof took another step forward, and this time, the boy did not move. Christof frowned, wondering if the boy dressed as a guard of Crimah had finally decided to be a man and stand firm against his enemy. Christof paused, slowly but deliberately gripping the hilt of his sword. The Guard did not respond but was watching Christof intently. Deciding to test the boys resolve, Christof drew his sword. The sound of metal moving against metal was loud in the stillness of the hallway. The guard did not move, and while staring at him Christof grinned, chuckling softly to himself.

  Suddenly, it dawned on him that the boy was frozen stiff at the prospect of a fight. Christof sighed, replaced his sword to the sheath at his side and instead reached out to grab the boy’s sword from him. There was no fight from him as Christof used the boy's weapon and sliced him across the throat. The chieftain let him fall with no more ceremony than that.