Lightning Strikes
THE CHIRPING OF CICADAS floated on the breeze. Falcon shifted in the saddle as her mare’s ears pricked forward, and she whinnied. It wasn’t like Tessa to be spooky. At Falcon’s nudge, Tessa jigged a few steps forward. Head pivoted toward the castle, the mare whinnied again. The vibration of her barrel tickled Falcon’s legs. A distant scream interrupted the cicadas.
Purple veghte stalks rushed past as Tessa tore across the field. Falcon would get a lecture about damaging the crop, but helping whoever screamed would be worth the tongue lashing. Breaking the cover of the crop, they burst out near the castle’s paddocks.
The dirt track gave way to cobbles. Falcon pivoted Tessa pinpoint the sound. Another scream shattered the still air. They galloped toward the castle.
The road passed under the scrutiny of the guard tower before it yielded to stables’ courtyard.
A scream punctuated the crack of leather striking flesh.
Rounding a barn, Falcon yanked Tessa to avoid crashing into a mob. They swarmed as thick as vultures on a ripe kill. Her gaze flicked over the crowd. She spotted several of the stable boyos and even some of the nobility. She was still too far away from whatever was happening.
A whistling sound sliced the air followed by a scream that raised goose bumps.
Dismounting, Falcon tossed the reins over a fence post. She cataloged each face as she pushed through the crowd. King Armanties would hear about this. The crowd shifted. At its heart, Iestyn, her best friend, was tethered between cross ties. Lead lines slick with blood gnawed into his wrists. Falcon stumbled, and sweat collected at the back of her neck.
“No,” she whispered.
“Where’s the horse?” the stablemaster demanded. His left hand clenched a single tailed whip.
“Lightning was there,” Iestyn panted, his voice tight and high with pain. Tears tracked down his face.
Lightning was missing? Gods, no. Had the clever horse slipped the latch and escaped? The Retu gifted the stud to the king. Lightning was worth more than twice his weight in adamantine. Iestyn would slash his wrists before letting anything happen to the horse. What in the gods’ names was going on?
The stablemaster raised the whip. Falcon flinched at the slap of leather on skin. She hadn’t realized she’d run forward until she stood between the stablemaster and Iestyn.
“Stop!” Half-a-dozen cuts crisscrossed Iestyn’s back. Her stomach turned. Tears pricked the corner of her eyes. “What in the gods’ names are you doing? The King’ll hear about this.”
“He already knows.” King Armanties’s voice was low and level with an grim edge to it.
She stiffened. He must have stood off to the side, past where she could see.
He strode up to her. The blue of his formal state robe billowed behind him. Not only was he here, but for some reason he must have sanctioned Iestyn’s beating. She swallowed against the sudden dryness of her mouth.
“Please, stop this,” she pleaded.
“I ordered it.”
Her stomach rolled at the confirmation. Her foster father’s green eyes were cold; his shoulders tight. Right now, he was The King, and not her dear Uncle Arman.
“Lightning’s gone. At minimum, Iestyn’s carelessness facilitated the theft.”
She took a step back from the man who’d sung her to sleep more nights than she could count.
“Get out of the way.” He interposed himself, a physical bar to her ability to protect Iestyn.
“I won’t let you hurt Iestyn.”
She danced around his reach. Once behind the king, she turned and grabbed the cross ties, trying to shield Iestyn with her body. His muscles bunched. He shrieked. Blood seeped through her shirt. The mingled stench of horse piss and sweat choked her.
“Get her out of here!”
Calloused hands seized her wrists. She gripped tighter and donkey-kicked the person behind her. Hair brushed her cheek.
Taizu, the Captain of the Guard and Swordsmaster, whispered in her ear, “You’re hurting him.”
She arched to take weight off Iestyn. Taizu ripped her hands free. His shoulder pushed the air out of her lungs as he threw her over his shoulder. She kicked. He grunted as a foot landed true.
“Foxedin, Taizu! Put me down. Taizu, please.”
He shifted her so he could hold both of her legs still and walked away from the stables.
The lash sliced again. She sank her teeth into Taizu’s side, and then threw her weight in the opposite direction. He stumbled. She landed on her feet and sprinted. Her ragged screams begging for the whipping to stop were drowned out by the slap of Taizu’s large feet on the cobbles. Arms wrapped around her waist. He wrenched her to the ground. Her fingers stabbed toward his eyes. He seized her wrists.
“It’s over,” Taizu said.
A rope circled Iestyn’s neck. He meekly followed the stablemaster into the keep. Taizu yanked her up and resettled her on his shoulder. This time she didn’t fight.
The light dimmed as the bite of fireweed and lingering smoke filled her lungs. Taizu had taken her to the kitchen. Good. She knew all the escape routes. He just needed to relax his grip.
“She hurt?” Leesan asked.
Taizu dropped Falcon into a kitchen chair. The rough oak bruised as she landed on it. She scrambled to her feet. He shoved her down. Moving behind her, he held her arms.
“Hysterical,” he said. “One of your sleeping drafts’ll give her time to cool off.”
“Taizu?” Worry tinged the word. It was a tone Leesan used when the situation was dire.
“That’s an order.”
Leesan swallowed and nodded.
No. Not Leesan too. The woman who’d raised her was about to drug her?
“Uncle Arman had Iestyn whipped.”
“I know.” Leesan held out a glass to Falcon.
“Iestyn needs me.”
“Drink it,” Taizu said.
“No.” She sounded petulant even to her own ears. but she didn’t care.
He pulled her wrists together and secured them with a binder. Damn the man. She clenched her teeth as he walked in front of her and took the drink from Leesan.
“Last chance.”
He offered her the drink. She shook her head. His hand wrapped around her jaw as his thumb dug into the soft skin under her earlobe and levered her mouth open.
“Hold her nose,” he said.
Leesan pinched Falcon’s nose just below the bridge. Taizu poured the vile brew down her throat and mashed her jaws together so she couldn’t spit it out. Falcon’s gaze flickered between the two. Her lungs burned. She swallowed. Taizu released his hold and backed away.
“I hate you.” Falcon spat on the floor by Taizu’s feet. He’d moved too far for her to hit him. Leesan hissed at the breach of kitchen etiquette. Good.
Leesan’s gaze narrowed at the spot. Instead of scrubbing it clean, she merely dropped a dishrag over it. Then she poured Taizu an ale. After a second, she poured another. They were so proud they needed a congratulatory drink.
What in the gods’ names was going on? Had everyone gone mad while I was out riding?
Falcon’s face flushed. The binder cut into her wrists when she tested it.
Keep drinking. As soon as you look away, I’ll find Iestyn. We’ll run away.
Her eyes burned. A low murmuring drowned out the kitchen noises. Falcon bit her lip. The pain revived her. She would outlast them.
“How much?” Leesan asked.
“Just the end.” He stared into his tankard and frowned. “Foxedin,” he swore. “Ale’s gone.” He moved out of Falcon’s field of vision presumably to refill his cup.
“The blood?” Leesan’s voice sounded as if she were talking underwater.
“Not hers,” he said.
“Thank the gods.”
Leesan’s brow furrowed over soft amber eyes but her face was in shadows. They needed to light the torches. It was getting dark.
Falcon bolted upright. The lilac comforte
r slipped to her waist.
“Oh no. Gods, no.”
The room swam. Leesan’s sleep draughts always made her ill the next day. Falcon lay back down on her butterwood bed. Light bounced off the dusty rose walls.
“Time?” The word scratched her too dry throat and came out strangled.
Turning on her side, she looked at the mage-created clock. Nearly Nooning. A whole sun lost. Where was Iestyn? Was he okay?
A low moan escaped. She put her hand to her temple. Someone, probably Leesan, had left a glass by her bed. Water condensed and ran down its sides. So they’d recently checked on her. If she could move, it might be a while before they’d realize she was gone.
She sat up slowly. Her stomach lurched, and her head pounded, but she could see straight. Someone had changed her shirt. She kept an emergency pack in the hidden passage that led to the auxiliary barn. Another advantage of a castle built by a mage. It would only take a moment to add the few additional things she needed.
Edging out of bed, she took a step. Her legs held.
“Don’t even try it,” Taizu said as he walked into her bed chamber.
“Tai—”
“If you are well enough to plan an escape, King Armanties wishes to see you.”
King Armanties—not Uncle Arman— wanted her. Nothing good ever came from being summoned by the King.
She sat back down on the bed. “Maybe if you came back in half a cycle?”
He pulled her to her feet. “Now.”
“You can let me go.”
He snorted. “No, I can’t. You’ll just bolt, and I’m too tired to chase you. Again.”
How could he be joking?
He led her through the hidden passageways that crisscrossed the castle. At least this wasn’t a formal audience. Those required that she use the front door. Her pace flagged.
“How’s Iestyn?” she asked.
“He’ll heal without scarring.” He stopped. “Before you think more about rescuing him, he’s in the Sun Tower.”
Of all the thrice-cursed luck. That tower was the one place that wasn’t connected to the passages. The top floor only had one door. While she could pick that lock, she’d have to get past whatever guard Taizu posted. She bit the inside of her cheek.
Taizu triggered the door to the King’s receiving room.
The King stood at the hearth staring at a nonexistent fire. “Take a seat, Falcon.”
She perched on the edge of the elaborately carved mahogany chair. The sitting room was designed to impress. Everything was too large, too stiff, and too formal. Usually when she visited, she’d toss her legs over the arm of the chair. This time, she was afraid that action would result in her being whipped.
“You must feel betrayed.” He turned to face her. Salt and pepper whiskers shadowed his face. He hadn’t shaved.
“You didn’t have to whip him.” She’d meant the words to sting, and was gratified when the king flinched as each struck home. “Did you even bring him before a Justice session before carrying out his sentence? Ryna never would have let you whip Iestyn.”
The king scrubbed a hand over his face. His eyes then fastened on hers, holding her as a snake holds a rabbit. “After torturing the suspects, the Retu execute everyone involved in the theft of their horses.”
Oh Gods.
“You won’t let them hurt Iestyn will you?” Her anger leeched away. She reached out a hand to Arman but stopped short. It dropped to her side.
“If we have the horse back before the Retu arrive, they might be content with the whipping he’s already received. You must find Black Lightning.”
She stood up. “I’ll find the thief.”
“The horse.”
“But I need to clear Iestyn.”
“Find the thrice-cursed horse, Falcon!” Arman took a breath. “Without Lightning, Iestyn’s life is forfeit under the agreement with the Retu. If we have Lightning, we can protect Iestyn. With Lightning and the Retu’s help, we might be able to find the thief.”
“The thieves probably don’t have Lightning anymore,” Taizu said.
“Why aren’t you searching for Lightning?” she asked. As Captain of the Guard, this should be Taizu’s responsibility.
He wouldn’t meet her gaze. His shoulders slumped. “Unfortunately, preparations for the arrival of Ryna’s betrothed and the ceremony require my attention.”
She shot out of the chair and closed to within fingers of Taizu. “How can you say that’s more important than Iestyn’s life?”
Hands up in a placating gesture, Taizu took a step back. “I didn’t. You know how Arman and I feel about Iestyn.”
“I thought I did.” Despite the petulant tone, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the two, “I thought you loved him like a son. Just like I thought you loved me like a daughter.”
“You know the truth of that.” Arman’s voice was old, as if all life had fled it. His formal bearing slipped. He was her beloved Uncle Arman again.
“Then why?” Her voice cracked as tears threatened.
“You have three, maybe four, suns before the Retu ambassador arrives.” He rubbed his forehead as if he was getting a headache. Hope flittered through her. She touched Arman’s forearm. “Maybe they’ll give us more time if I ask.”
Arman shook his head. “Even if you were still Princess Kauril, the Retu wouldn’t yield. The Princess can’t help him, but Falcon can.”
“Maybe Falcon’ll break him out of the tower,” she said. “The Retu won’t chase us to Sea Haven. Will they?”
She watched his features darken and close. Just as quickly has he’d come, her uncle was gone again.
“You wanted to be the Renisa. Do your job,” Arman said. “Dismissed.”
She turned and threw open a passage door.
“Falcon, you have to understand—”
“I do.” She turned to face him. “But that doesn’t mean I forgive. Majesty.”
His lips compressed to a white slash. She bowed to him and inclined her head to Taizu before she left.
Leaning against the passage door she closed her eyes and banged the back of her head against the wall.
Why would Uncle Arman make her the Renisa now? A Renisa was the king’s most trusted agent. For five years, he’d refused her the position, stating that even disowned, the Tarish Princess shouldn’t take such risks. So why give her the title for investigating something she’d have done anyway?
Maybe he wanted her out of Valya when Ryna’s fiancé, Prince Jurriaan, arrived. She’d argued with Arman enough about the evils of arranged marriages for him to worry how she’d react to the Prince. It might be better if she sprung both of her friends from captivity. Iestyn would be safe. Ryna would be spared an arranged marriage. Falcon sighed. Ryna wouldn’t come.
Falcon opened the door to the ramparts. Squinting against the sun’s glare, she recognized the guard. Sergeant Pachua treated her as if she were his younger sister.
“Well met, Sergeant. How’s Iestyn?”
He smiled and ruffled her hair. “As well as can be, considering.”
“Can I talk to him?”
He unlocked the door. “Just don’t escape with him on my shift.”
“I’ll try remembering that.”
“See that you do.”
She wrinkled her nose at the acrid smell of disinfectant. Taizu had cleaned and bandaged the wounds. Iestyn was lying on the bed away from the door. Thin lines of blood stained the white cloth covering his back. The lash marks were weeping. Falcon couldn’t tell if Iestyn was awake.
The hinges groaned as the door closed. Taizu hadn’t oiled it, which ruled out picking the lock.
“Go away.” Iestyn’s voice was nasally. He’d been crying.
“I won’t abandon you.”
She walked to the bed and laid her hand lightly on his shoulder. She wrinkled her nose. Something wasn’t right. Drawing a deep breath, she realized what it was. For the first time, Iestyn didn’t smell of horse. Just of soap and the sic
k room.
“Everyone else has.”
“I’m not everyone else.” She walked around the bed. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
“Go away.”
“I’ll find Lightning.”
He yelped as he tried to sit up. Pachua peered in the door. Once he was sure nothing was amiss, he went back to watch.
“Don’t move.” She knelt in front of him.
“Only a silly little twit would grab onto someone’s back while it was being whipped.” He lay back down.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t let him hurt you.”
“So you thought you’d do it yourself?” Despite his scolding tone, a thin smile flickered across his face before he grimaced again.
“Is it bad?”
“Whatever Taizu put on my back numbs the pain away if I stay still.”
“Did you see anything unusual before Lightning vanished?”
He shook his head. “The wire was in the lock.”
Iestyn threaded a wire through the latch as a safety device. It was too thin to be noticed, but strong enough to keep the gate closed. He always took the cut wires to prevent people from discovering them. “I can’t imagine someone he doesn’t know taking him without his raising the dead over it.”
Falcon sighed. “I’ll figure it out.”
“You’d better.”
His eyelids drooped. Whatever Taizu gave Iestyn must have been a sedative too.
Falcon waited until he fell asleep before leaving. She leaned against the turret wall and scrubbed her hands over her face. The barn wasn’t visible but the scent of straw and manure was light on the air.
She walked around the rampart until she could see the paddocks. Empty. The stablemaster wasn’t willing to risk another horse. Bit late for precautions when the most valuable horse was already gone.
The stables ringed a central courtyard. The royal barn nestled next to the castle wall and was flanked by the stablemaster’s and Iestyn’s quarters. Lightning’s paddock sat between the stablemaster’s quarters and the nobles’ barn. You could see Lightning’s paddock from everywhere except inside the barns.
How would you pull a wagon up and load Lightning without someone noticing? It’d happened, so it had to be possible.
Paths Less Traveled Page 3
