Fury (Tranquility Book 3)

by Krista D. Ball

“How many of your men can Eve take?”

  Arrago shook his head. “I don’t know. You should ask…I don’t remember his name. Shit, I don’t remember his name.”

  “Captain Belford,” Eve supplied.

  “Belford! That’s his name. Edmund put Belford in charge of the militia. So talk to him.”

  Eve inclined her head. “I will. It’s going to be okay, Arrago.”

  “Is it?” he asked, bitterness creeping into his voice. He walked over to Allric’s desk and ran his hand along Bethany’s worn scabbard and harness. It was stained with blood and caked with mud. She loved this scabbard. The leather was worn down at the stress points around the various buckles. She’d had this custom made for her in Orchard Park.

  “How did they even get this off her? She wouldn’t even sleep without them in grabbing distance. We…” He smiled at the memory. “Once, we were…she actually stopped to pull her swords closer to the bed.”

  Eve chuckled. “I can believe it.”

  Kiner smiled. “That’s Bethany.”

  “I spent the night with her a few weeks ago, just after we got those letters about Aneese.” Jovan said. “She had her swords under her sofa so they were in reach at all times.”

  “That chambermaid being killed in her bedroom, back at the temple…” Allric’s voice trailed off. “That really hurt her.”

  Arrago nodded. “It did. What did they do to her to get her swords from her and not kill her in the process? Bethany is stronger than several men put together. I’ve watched her. I trained with her. Once, I had to hit her with a shovel to knock her out. How can she…be…kidnapped?”

  “Taken prisoner,” Kiner corrected, gently. “The best case scenario is that they identified the highest rank, captured her, and will interrogate her for information.”

  “That’s the best case scenario?” Arrago said.

  Jovan nodded. “Yeah.”

  “What’s the worst? Lendra’s not here. You can tell me.”

  It was Allric’s job to deliver the bad news. “If they recognized her, either just as Lady Champion or as Bethany herself, it’s possible they’re going to drag her across the straits, through that hole in the boundary, and…well…I’m sure Sarissa would be very interested in having Bethany in her prison.”

  “Oh, Bethany,” Arrago whispered.

  “We will do everything we can. I give you my word,” Allric said.

  Arrago stumbled back until the table bumped against his thighs. He gripped the edge, afraid he’d fall over if he let go.

  The last words they’d shared had been a fight. A childish fight because he was a coward and unable to say what was in his heart. Celeste had told him to tell Bethany he was still in love with her. It was amongst her last words to him. And he couldn’t even do that.

  “Arrago, listen,” Jovan said. “We will find her.”

  Eve grabbed him by the arms. “Arrago, if she’s alive, I will do everything I can to find her and the motherless bastards who are holding her.”

  Arrago nodded, though he didn’t look up. His imagination tortured him with an endless stream of possibilities, none of them good. “Please find her.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Three Weeks Ago

  Sarissa clawed at her skin as she paced around the windowless room. Magical texts lay piled on the floor along with candles, jugs of wine, and water. A dirty, stained dagger rested on top of the books. It would be so easy just to end it all now. Slit her throat and stop the noise.

  Do it, Sarissa. Make the voices stop. Do what Bethany will do to you. End it all. You are a monster.

  Whispering, whispering, always whispering; why wouldn’t it stop? Sarissa pulled at her hair and screamed with her mouth clamped shut.

  She should never have taken Bethany’s Power. Oh, what a misstep that was. She was so blind to Apexia’s plan. Of course, Sarissa was so tainted by Magic that the pure elixir in Bethany’s veins would revolt at contamination. She’d give it back if she could; she’d slit open her wrists and let the sunshine fly out of her.

  She’d tried, twice. Neither time worked. Maybe it was because Robert or one of the well-meaning servants stopped her. Bandages coated in healing oil were slapped on wounds, and after the screaming agony of the oil had done its work, Sarissa came back to her senses—what little remained.

  “Apexia! Why must you always win? I am the same as you!” she shouted. “I have done everything you have done and what do I have? Nothing!”

  Be calm, Bethany. You must control yourself. Grieve later. Kill now.

  Sarissa clenched her fists. “I am not her.”

  Magic is evil. It is the source of all evil in our world. Together we must unite to defeat it. All of us, acting in one accord.

  Sarissa’s fingernails dugs into her palms until the stinging wetness announced she’d broken skin.

  “I must gain control.”

  Sarissa could no longer do Magic. She couldn’t create circles and barriers around her to shield her from the voices. She could barely sleep. She couldn’t eat solid food. She knew she’d fallen over sanity’s edge and had no idea how to climb back up the cliff. She didn’t even know if she wanted to. Sometimes, when the madness overtook her, it was a relief to be spared the agony for even a few moments, even if it made the lucid moments more terrifying.

  A knock interrupted her thoughts.

  “Lady Sarissa? Messenger for you.”

  “Come,” Sarissa said sharply.

  An average-height man walked into the room. He stank of sweat, garlic, and horse shit. She wrinkled her nose and turned her head away. The broth and wine in her guts protested. He pulled a letter out of his leather courier pouch. “From Lord Robert, my lady.”

  She quirked a smile. Lord Robert. What a bunch of backward idiots these northerners were. Everyone of importance had to have a title in front of their name or not be allowed to command. How very human of them.

  So proud the day they made me Lady Bethany. Passed the tests. Passed them all. Flying colours on the battlements. Vowed Knights being presented to his holiness. Head held high. I did it.

  I did it.

  Sarissa shook off the wayward memory and opened the letter.

  S,

  Fourteen made it across to the shack. I wish I could see your face when you read this next line. We captured Bethany. In chains in the basement, awaiting orders from you. I’d rather not move her until we have to. Took six of us to pin her down, and that was with her drugged.

  I’ll be at the Abbey in a couple of days. Send word back if you want her brought to you when I come.

  Robert

  Sarissa reread the letter. They’d captured me. How could they capture me? I was stronger than any of them. I was careful, too. I was…Sarissa shook her head as if bothered by an insect. Bethany must have been out on a training exercise. There would be no other reason for the head of the invasion force to be out in the field without an entire army surrounding her.

  “Any reply, Lady Sarissa?” The messenger asked. He was close enough that Sarissa could smell the beer on his breath.

  She turned her back in an attempt to keep her meagre broth in her stomach where it belonged. She poured more wine. The servants were watering it down—no doubt Robert’s orders. He probably thought he was being helpful, thinking in his stupidity that drunkenness was making her crazy. The drunkenness helped her keep her wits about her, as it numbed the pain of two lives sharing her brain.

  “Yes,” Sarissa said. “There is a reply.” She needed Bethany brought; she didn’t trust herself to leave the Abbey. If she brought Bethany here, Sarissa could find some way to send the power back to her. Then Bethany could kill her.

  No! That wasn’t right, either. Robert wouldn’t let Bethany kill her.

  She needed to get rid of Robert.

  Bethany would kill him given the chance. But then Bethany would kill her. Why did Bethany want to kill her, again? Sarissa closed her eyes, thinking.

  Right. Because she was a murderer. She’d f
orgotten that.

  “What message?”

  Kill the gross little man. Watch his blood spray all over the walls and ceiling. Gut him and rip out his entrails. Find the way back to Magic and purge myself of this cursed insanity. All wasted. So much waste. So much time ruined and tortured and the end is coming and I deserve it…

  The elves will invade through the southern breach in the barrier. It is the most logical place. Castle Brook only has three thousand men. The heavy Magi are all up here. Some of them need to go south to bolster the Castle.

  But that would mean Sarissa would lose her best defenders.

  Exactly. It will be easier for me to kill the evil and purge the land of darkness. The champion of light will descend upon you and bring with her the justice that you so rightly deserve.

  “My lady?”

  “Have Bethany brought here. Tell Quentin…wait, Quentin is dead. I can’t remember who took over from Quentin. Jovan did, right? No, that’s not right.” Sarissa shifted through memories, some hers and some not, but couldn’t find the answer.

  “Frida did,” the disgusting-smelling man said.

  “Right. Frida. Tell Frida to send our strongest Magi to Castle Brook. We need to defend it.”

  “Why?”

  Bethany was coming. With her, the armies would descend upon them. Why was Bethany coming here? How would she even make it across the straits? The barrier was still up. Oh, she was tricky, that one. She probably found a hole and marched her army in one by one, step by step, until they were all here on Sarissa’s island. This was Sarissa’s island. She shouldn’t let the elves take it from her.

  Sarissa lowered her voice and whispered, “The elves are coming. We have to stop them.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Three Weeks Ago

  Bethany blinked the grit out of her eyes. Her new home was dark, save a flickering lantern well out of reach. She yawned and winced as she stretched her neck from side to side. Sweat dripped down the small of her back and pooled around the band of her padded trousers. Everything ached.

  The irony of all the beatings she’d taken in the last several days was that the healing oils and the healers they’d used to keep bringing her back to health had helped heal the worst of her coughing sickness. Not all of it, for sure. But the fever was lessening now and her wet cough was replaced by a lingering hack that made her ribs ache.

  She was still in her armour; they hadn’t removed it. Considering how much work it had been to get her Blessed Blades off her, she was certain they’d decided taking her armour off too was just not worth the effort.

  Amateurs.

  Bethany moaned with discomfort. “Anyone awake?” she said quietly.

  “All of us,” Jackson said in a low voice. “Between you coughing and the guard snoring, I doubt the dead could rest here.”

  “Was I out long?” she asked, coughing between words. She spat the phlegm out through the wooden bars of their cage. She missed the sleeping guard.

  “A while, I think. We all fell asleep a couple of times,” Jonas said.

  Bethany mopped the sweat from her forehead. “Did they feed us?”

  “Nope,” Lady Kia spat.

  “Fuck,” Bethany said. “I’m starving.”

  “If one of you dies, I’m eatin’ you,” whispered Jackson. “Just putting that out there now.”

  Without sunlight, it was impossible to tell exactly how many days had passed but, by the sounds coming from Bethany’s stomach, they’d been locked up for two days. Another two days being dragged here. Four days.

  They were clearly alive for a reason, and Bethany had a few ideas about that. They’d been drugged, bagged, tied up, and eventually dragged to a boat. Then drugged and dragged some more. And now here.

  Wherever here was.

  She guessed they were somewhere across the straits by now. With Robert in the picture, it was most likely they went through the tear in the barrier and were in holding until word got to Sarissa.

  Capturing her was blind luck. They were either looking for something in particular, such as supplies or intelligence, or were behind the lines to cause trouble, such as attacking a watchtower post.

  She looked at the others. If she hadn’t threatened to kill herself, they’d all be dead. Beyond the small group in the cell, she had no idea if the others were alive, as she’d been blindfolded the entire time after she threatened to kill herself. The threat had been enough to reduce the beatings, though the drugs had also helped quell further resistance. Still, they were in bad shape. Jackson’s foot was sprained, if not broken. They’d used Jonas as a punching bag on the first night; he was in bad shape. Lady Kia was in decent health, but she looked so terrified that Bethany worried what use she’d be if they got an opening to escape.

  They didn’t have weapons. The longer they stayed here, the harder it would be to get out. Now that the drugs were finally out of her system, she could think clearer. There was always one guard in the room. He slept out of reach. The walls were stone with no windows. The damp, musty smell announced they were most likely underground in the basement, as did the stairs leading up to the door.

  The prison bars in front of them were thick metal beams in a crisscross pattern. There was no way they could break one of those, not even all working together. Their most likely avenue would be to get the hinges off, but they were outside the bars. Plus, she had no tools to use to silently work. There wasn’t even a stone inside the cage. Just hay for them to piss and shit in.

  While not fed proper food, they’d been given a weak broth every so often. It was enough to both keep them alive and help weaken them. Bethany guessed they were at the first location across the water that could hold them, as Robert didn’t want to risk having her or the others escaping or causing trouble. She could have been faking the unconsciousness, after all. If the foul-tasting wine hadn’t knocked her out for real, she would have pretended.

  That meant they were waiting for Sarissa’s order, or perhaps even Sarissa herself. If two days had passed here, that meant Sarissa could be arriving at any time. Sarissa’s blood rituals needed bodies and, after she was done torturing every drop of knowledge from Bethany and the others, they would all die horribly—and their deaths would be used to kill others.

  “All right, my head is clear enough. We need to get out of here,” Bethany whispered.

  Jackson nodded and said, voice kept low, “Agreed. Ideas?”

  “You think the four of us can haul this door down before that guard wakes up?” Bethany asked half-heartedly.

  “I’m willing to try anything,” Kia said.

  Bethany would have smiled if she wasn’t so tired. “They bring us broth. So I sleep near the bars from this point forward. The next guard or servant or anyone who leans close enough to these bars, I’ll grab whatever body part I can. That will cause a commotion. This guard will come to help. Jackson can strangle him. Steal the keys. Get out of here.”

  “That’s your brilliant plan?” Jackson scoffed. “You do realize there are a hundred ways that isn’t going to work, right?”

  Bethany scoffed back. “Would you like me to whittle myself a fashionable lockpicking set?”

  “That would be so great,” Jonas said.

  “Rotting in here is unacceptable, as is being tortured to death. Agreed?”

  The others nodded.

  “Then we have to escape. Failing—and dying—is better than whatever they have planned for us. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Jackson said.

  Kia agreed with a nod. “I wish we knew if the others were alive.”

  “One problem at a time,” Bethany breathed. “First, we need out of this cage.”

  The lantern flickered out. “Well, fuck.” Bethany complained. “Great.”

  There was a thunk nearby. A groan, followed by another thunk.

  Bethany jumped to her feet. “Kia, help. Kick the hinges.” Even if she could bend the metal, it might be enough to pull the hinges off the doors. Without hinges, the doors woul
d come off.

  “Stop!” A feminine voice whispered. “Lady Bethany. Stay quiet!”

  They heard stone striking flint, saw sparks, and then a lantern flared to life, illuminating the face of their saviour.

  Miss Myra. An apprentice knight and, by all accounts, a child. She was a half-Rygent reader, unable to properly mind read, but able to sense the emotions of those around her. Bethany had personally asked for Myra to be brought from Ellentop to serve under Kiner’s network of scouts and spies. She’d been sent across through the rip in the barrier on a scouting mission weeks ago and had not been heard from since.

  Her normally young, tanned features were darkened and aged by the soot and dirt in every facial cranny. “Lady Bethany, I’m so happy to see you alive.”

  “Myra!” Bethany greeted her with a wide grin on her face. “It’s so good to see you.”

  Myra set the lantern on the floor and shoved a loaf of bread through the bars. “Eat while I get the keys. Sorry it took so long. I tried to find the best time. I’ve managed to drug your guard, but it might not last long.”

  “Why not?” Bethany asked.

  “I have no clue what I gave him.”

  Bethany chuckled. “I’m just happy you’re here.” Bethany took the loaf and ripped off a piece. She handed the rest to Kia to share with the others. “Did the others make it? Whiteriver? Ansley?”

  “Yes,” Myra said, digging through the unconscious man’s pockets. “Ah! Got them.”

  Bethany ripped up her share of the bread, choking it down with the fewest bites possible. She stuffed the rest into her pocket for later. “How many others? Where are they?”

  Myra spoke as she fumbled through keys at the lock. “Seven others in total. They’re in the stables getting horses saddled. They were being held outside, so it was easier to get to them.”

  “Where are we?”

  “The basement of Chateau Lance.” Myra unlocked the door. “Okay, come on.”

  Bethany bent down to help Jackson to his feet. “Kia, help me.”

  Kia shoved her bread into her mouth and put a supportive arm around Jackson. Together they helped him to his feet.