The Blacksmith Queen

by Aiken G. A.

  Instead, she said, “You’re bringing one horse. And why are you wearing those stupid white robes again?”

  “You want me to travel as a War Monk? We lose the element of surprise.”

  Now Keeley was just extremely annoyed. By everyone. So she pushed her father’s saddle into Samuel’s arms. “Let’s try this again, shall we?” She pointed at Samuel. “We’re not going into battle.” Then the centaurs. “You’re not making a moral statement.” And now her sister. “And we’re not dawdling our way to the Amhuinn Valley where people will have time to notice that you’re a nun, decide to attack, and then shock! ‘Oh, no! She’s a War Monk! Run for your lives!’ What we are doing is riding, with purpose, for long hours a day. We will only stop at night. Then start again before the suns rise. We will do this again and again, until we reach the valley. Does everyone understand? Do I need to make it any clearer?”

  When no one said anything, Keeley nodded. “Good. I’ll go get Beatrix.”

  “She’s not inside,” Gemma told her, but only when Keeley was halfway up the courtyard steps.

  “Then where is she? Did we lose her already?”

  “I’m right here,” Beatrix soothed as she swept in through the gates. She wore a lush green velvet gown with a fur cape over her shoulders. Already she seemed . . . royal. Like she was already imagining the crown on her head.

  Keeley frowned. “What were you doing out there?”

  “Taking a small morning walk. I do it every morning—you know that.”

  “No one was hunting you before,” Gemma coldly reminded her.

  “I didn’t go far. I would have been able to run back. I just needed to stretch my legs before I get on my horse.”

  Keeley reached her sister, brushing her hair off her face. “Sure you weren’t trying to escape? I’d totally understand,” she teased in a whisper.

  “Not at all.”

  “Then why were you—” Before Keeley could finish, she saw the gray mare go up on her hind legs.

  Keeley pushed Beatrix behind her and turned to see Samuel stumble back, her saddle in his arms.

  “What happened?” she demanded.

  “I was just trying to put your saddle on your horse and—”

  Keeley rushed to the gray mare’s side. The horse came down hard, but thankfully hadn’t hit the boy. Putting her hands on the mare’s neck, she stroked her muscles and mane.

  “Easy,” she soothed. “Easy.”

  With her hands still on the mare, Keeley said, “No one but me is to put a saddle on this horse. Ever. She’s here because she wants to be. She’s not my horse.”

  Gemma came close but the gray mare nipped the air near her face and her sister wisely backed away. “Is this one of the wild horses near the farm?”

  “It is. She has some unfinished business.” Keeley pressed her forehead against the mare’s neck. “I’m the only one who’ll handle her. If one morning we wake up and she’s gone, I’ll find another horse. Is everyone clear?”

  There was muttered agreement and Keeley accepted that. She didn’t have time to explain the relationship she had with the gray mare.

  “Samuel,” Keeley called out. “Help Beatrix mount her horse, please. You can leave my saddle where you stand.”

  Samuel, happy not to be crushed under the mare’s hooves, ran over to Beatrix’s side and walked with her to her horse.

  “You do know he’s my squire?” Gemma asked. “I don’t appreciate you giving him orders.”

  Keeley started to say something to her sister but decided against it. They hadn’t even gotten on the road yet and she didn’t want to start arguing this early on their trip. Even she didn’t have the patience for that.

  “I’ll let Mum and Da know we’re leaving.”

  Keeley started toward the castle, briefly glancing back. That’s when she saw the look on Gemma’s face as she turned away from the horses. A glower that was, to say the least, off-putting.

  “What?” Keeley asked her sister.

  Gemma shook her head. “Nothing.”

  But Keeley knew her gods-loving sister was lying.

  * * *

  It was an accident really. That Gemma just happened to look over at Beatrix when Keeley mentioned that she was going to get their parents. She’d actually been looking at Samuel, hoping he wasn’t going to fall “madly in love” with Beatrix since the boy seemed to fall madly in love with any woman who showed him the slightest interest. So she saw what no one else saw.

  An eye roll. As if the idea of saying good-bye to their parents was a waste of Beatrix’s precious time.

  It was a small gesture—and one all of her siblings had made before, even herself—but Gemma knew there was something different about this eye roll. Something . . . meaner. If nothing else, Gemma knew she didn’t like it. She also knew there was no point in telling Keeley about it. Not yet anyway.

  When their parents came out of the castle with the children and Uncle Archie, their father was already crying.

  “Father,” Gemma soothed, “we’re coming back.”

  “I know. I know.” He wrapped her in one of his big hugs, something she’d missed greatly during her years of training and battle. “But I’ll still miss me girls until I see you again.”

  “Don’t worry, Daddy.” She squeezed him hard. “We’ll watch out for each other.”

  “I know you will.” He kissed her on the cheek and whispered, “And don’t let Keeley make you so mad all the time.”

  “I’ll try,” she whispered back.

  Giggling, they stepped away from each other.

  Her mother was next, those strong arms of hers nearly crushing Gemma’s ribs.

  “Don’t forget what we talked about,” her mother whispered against her ear.

  “I won’t, Mum.”

  Emma stepped back. “Love you, sweets.”

  Gemma joined Keeley in saying good-bye to all the children. Beatrix just waved from the back of her horse, although she did lean down and kiss both her parents on their cheeks.

  Once they were all mounted and ready, the centaurs rode off first, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of riding horses but doing it anyway. Keeley rode beside Beatrix. And Gemma brought up the rear with Samuel.

  But as they neared the drawbridge, Keeley suddenly yelled out, “Hold!”

  They all did, and Keeley looked over her shoulder. “Keran!” she barked out, annoyed. “Get your ass out here!” That’s when Gemma realized they’d forgotten their cousin.

  When there was no immediate answer, their mother bellowed, “Keran Smythe! You answer right this second!”

  “I’m here,” a voice from behind the stables announced. “I’m here.”

  Keran stumbled out into the courtyard, pulling her horse behind her. They waited while she put the saddle on the large beast and took some supplies from Archibald.

  She started to mount her horse but abruptly stopped, went over to the side of the stables, and threw up against the building.

  All the children screamed or retched or both, then ran back into the castle. Gemma’s father and uncle lowered their heads so they could laugh in peace and her mother just shook her head in disgust, her lip angrily curled.

  “I’m all right,” Keran announced as she stumbled back to her horse. “I’m all right.” She mounted and got comfortable in the saddle. “Let’s go,” she said, weaving a bit in her seat before she settled in again.

  “Really?” Gemma had to ask her sister.

  “At least we know she can fight,” Keeley said before motioning to the centaurs. “Let’s go.”

  They set off again, and as soon as they crossed the drawbridge, Archibald pulled it up and closed the gates behind them.

  * * *

  They rode hard for four days, stopping only when the suns went down, and moving again before the suns rose the next morning.

  They skirted towns and cities as best they could, taking the route that Beatrix had suggested from the beginning. They even went through Duke Sangor�
��s lands without meeting one guard or soldier.

  On the fifth day, Caid woke up before anyone else. Samuel was on watch but he’d fallen asleep in the tree he’d been perched in. Caid knew he should yell at the boy, but he seemed to be having enough trouble managing his role as a future War Monk. It wasn’t for everyone.

  Gemma, however, seemed to have chosen her life perfectly.

  Thankfully, they were moving so much during the day and so exhausted when they finally camped for the night that fighting among the three sisters was kept to a minimum. Although Caid did notice how closely Gemma watched her younger sister.

  Caid wasn’t sure how he felt about that until one morning when he was standing behind a large tree to take his morning piss and saw Beatrix making her way back to camp. She moved silently and picked up her step when she saw that the sky was lightening, announcing that the suns were beginning to rise.

  She passed right by the tree he was standing behind and he was tempted to jump out and startle her, but he really just wanted to know what she was up to. Because he could sense she was up to something.

  Just as Caid finished his business and came around the tree, the rest of the party began to awaken and Beatrix was standing among them.

  “What are you doing up?” Keeley asked as she got to her feet.

  Beatrix gave that small smile and replied, “Just taking my morning walk.”

  “Well, don’t go far when you do that.” Keeley passed her sister and tugged on a strand of her long hair. “All right?”

  “Of course.”

  Caid watched Keeley head toward a nearby stream and he followed, crouching beside her as she used handfuls of the clear rushing water to wet her hair and face and a rag to scrub her neck.

  “I saw your sister coming back to camp before everyone woke.”

  Keeley took several gulps of the water before asking, “What is going on with you and Gemma?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Both of you keep watching where Beatrix goes. I’m not sure what you two are worried about.”

  “Gemma’s seen her go off on her own too?”

  “Just once. Our second day on the road. But she always takes a morning walk. When we were home, she’d take her walk and then spend the rest of the day reading or going into town to shop at the dressmaker.”

  “Keeley—”

  “She’s a creature of habit. Stop worrying.”

  It might have sounded as though Keeley was arguing with Caid, but he knew she was actually arguing with herself.

  “I just want to make sure she’s safe,” he lied.

  Keeley let out a breath, placed her hand on his forearm. “Sorry. I’m being snappy. I don’t mean to be.”

  “It’s fine. We’re all tired. Good news is we should arrive in the valley by tomorrow.”

  “Thank the gods. I’ve never traveled so far or so long before. My back is getting a tad cranky.”

  Caid stood and held his hand out for Keeley. She looked at it and he explained, “I thought I’d help since your back is bothering you.”

  “Oh. That’s nice.”

  He rolled his eyes, but she only giggled and slipped her hand into his. He pulled her up and tried to take his hand back, but Keeley didn’t seem in the mood to release him.

  “Let’s hold hands for a little while,” she teased.

  “Woman, give me my hand.”

  She laughed harder. “You are so easy to irritate.” She tossed his hand away. “Has anyone told you that?”

  “Everyone has told me that. You’re not so special.”

  “Awwwww,” she said, stepping away, “we both know you’re lying about that.”

  * * *

  The valley came into view and Keeley had to halt the gray mare so she could gaze in wonder.

  She really hadn’t known what to expect. Ever since she was a child, she’d heard about the Witches of Amhuinn and the valley they lived in. She’d heard they lived in caves so she was expecting . . . caves. What she didn’t expect was that the side of the entire mountain at the end of the valley had been carved into some sort of castle. Not like her uncle’s, which was mostly tower, but an actual castle. Like something the king himself would have.

  “By the gods,” she breathed out. “That’s . . . astounding.”

  “It is,” Caid agreed. “I never tire of coming here.”

  “I can understand why.”

  Beatrix rode her horse up to Caid’s side, her gaze moving over the travel party before she asked, “What are we doing?”

  Gemma motioned to the witches’ home. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, it’s lovely,” she replied. Then she immediately ordered, “All right. Let’s go.”

  She rode down the hill while the others followed. But Keeley waited a bit, watching her sister ride off. It took her a moment to realize that Caid was still beside her.

  “Your sister isn’t one for taking a moment to enjoy the beauty of things, is she?”

  “My sister finds beauty in books.”

  “I understand that. My brother is the same way.”

  “Is that why he didn’t come with you and Laila?”

  “No. He didn’t come because he didn’t give a flying fuck who the next ruler was because they’re all bad. According to him,” Caid added.

  Keeley laughed. Her first since the day before. The closer they got to the Amhuinn Mountains, the sadder she felt. She missed her family. She missed her shop. She missed the wild horse herd. She missed just being able to take hammer to steel. Even though they’d burned their family home to the ground, it could be rebuilt. But even without the farm, just being with her kin would make her feel better. The gentle bickering of her parents. The screams and laughter of her siblings. She needed to feel that love again. The love of family.

  “It’s going to be all right, you know,” Caid said.

  “What is?”

  “All of this.”

  “What if they don’t want her?” Keeley finally asked.

  “Don’t want her?”

  “As queen. What if they change their minds?”

  Caid raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to help them change their minds?”

  “What?” Keeley quickly shook her head. “No! No, no. I would never do that.”

  “But you think she shouldn’t be queen?”

  Keeley twisted her lips and tightened her grip on her reins. “Forget it.”

  “Keeley, it’s all right. It’s good to question. It’s good not to take things at face value.”

  “She’s my sister. I love her. I should want her to be queen.”

  “No one doubts you love your sister.”

  “But I’m a horrible person, yes?”

  “No. That is not what I was about to say.”

  “But I should want her to be queen. She’s so smart and, yes, she’s young, but what she doesn’t know she can easily learn. With her intelligence, she could be an amazing ruler. I should be helping her obtain her goals, not hoping the witches choose someone else.”

  “You do know that most people would want their sister to be queen, but only so others would be forced to call them ‘m’lady’ or ‘m’lord’ or so they could have unlimited access to the Old King’s gold and jewels.”

  “I wouldn’t mind having some jewels,” Keeley admitted. “I’ve always wanted to make my father a copy of his old battle sword from when he was a soldier. Only I’d include a jeweled hilt.” She grinned, nodded at Caid. “The mistake a lot of people make is that they want the entire hilt to be covered in jewels. In battle, that will do nothing but hurt your hand. But if it’s done correctly, you can display a jeweled sword on your wall or pull it down and destroy an entire army in case of attack. My da would love that.”

  Keeley took a moment to think about her dream sword and that’s when she noticed that the centaur who never smiled had a grin so wide, she barely recognized him.

  They stared at each other until she asked, “That isn’t what you meant . . . is it?”
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br />   Laughing, he rode off and Keeley followed.

  CHAPTER 9

  As they rode up to the front gates of the mountain fortress of the Amhuinn Witches, armed and armored guards glowered at them from behind full steel helms; their eyes a bright and extremely unnatural green.

  In unison, the ends of steel poleaxes were slammed into the ground and then crossed, blocking their entrance.

  Laila clicked her tongue against her teeth and her horse walked her closer to the guards. “We’ve brought the future queen to see your mistresses,” she announced.

  The guards didn’t answer, but Keeley didn’t even know if they could answer.

  Laila dismounted and handed the reins to a terrified-looking Samuel. She glanced around at the horses and, without warning, the animals all moved back or simply away.

  With a toss of her blond and brown hair, Laila shifted into her centaur form. Once the antlers appeared at the top of her head, she pawed the ground with one hoof, leaned forward a bit, and roared in the faces of the guards.

  Still the guards didn’t answer, but they did move. Quickly. Pulling back their poleaxes and stepping aside.

  * * *

  It had been a few years since Caid had been inside the mountain fortress of the Witches of Amhuinn. But nothing had changed. He knew that as soon as they walked into the main stone hall with their horses, and a young witch quickly approached with a scroll clipped to a piece of flat, polished wood gripped in one hand and a quill in the other.

  “Yes?” she asked, gazing at them over the half spectacles she wore.

  Laila, not bothering to shift back to her human form, gave a short bow of her head before she said, “I am Laila of the Scarred Earth Clan and Only Daughter of the Clan Chief. As requested by the Witch Queen, I have brought Beatrix of the Farm—”

  “Actually,” Keeley interrupted, “it’s Beatrix Smythe.”

  “No, it’s not,” Gemma debated. “It’s Farmerson.”

  “In our family, we take our mother’s name.”

  “Only if you plan to be a blacksmith, and I think we all know that Beatrix has no intention of doing that.”

  “You go by Smythe and you’re not a blacksmith.”