Birthright

by Missouri Vaun

  “Impossible.” Kathryn squeezed Rowan’s shoulder. “She’s dealing with a lot of emotions at the moment, I think.”

  “Yes, you’re right. I’m just being selfish.”

  “Hey, being selfish is okay every now and then.” Kathryn was so happy to be talking about Rowan’s frustrations rather than her own. She welcomed the distraction.

  “Maybe when Venn returns I’ll try a new tactic.”

  “That sounds promising and fun.”

  They both giggled like schoolgirls. It felt good to laugh.

  They snuggled down under the covers, sharing the same pillow, just as they’d done many nights when they were younger and the world was much less complicated.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Aiden looked up. The black towers of Windsheer Castle loomed in front of them. They’d decided to leave the horses well away from the walls of the village surrounding Windsheer. Venn felt the saddles looked too valuable and would surely give them away as something more than weary travelers. They’d donned drab brown hooded cloaks and covered the last two miles to the main entrance on foot.

  Aiden noticed the downtrodden tenor of the place almost immediately. No one looked up at them as they passed. Villagers were coming and going along the wide dirt road through the main gate at a slow pace. Some pulled handcarts, others carried baskets, some had small dirt-smeared children in tow, but with this many people about, Aiden would have expected more noise. The cheerful chatter between the residents of Starford Keep was noticeably absent here. And everyone’s clothing looked as if it were three winters past wearable. Everything looked gray-brown and ragged. Even the solitary mule they passed looked as if it had not had a good meal in months.

  The sword beneath her cloak offered Aiden some small amount of comfort. She’d wrapped the ornate handle with straps of thin leather so that if anyone caught sight of it they wouldn’t think it was anything special. She gripped the handle as they walked past a sad looking open market. There appeared to be very little to barter, and patrons milled about in their tattered clothing looking hungry and tired.

  They had passed within visual distance of a few farms as they traveled through the northern region of Belstaff. The farms were run down and generally in disrepair, but Aiden had assumed that these were isolated poor tenant farmers. Now she could see that the whole place suffered.

  The minute they’d drawn close to the main gate, Aiden had sensed a shift in Venn. Her body pulsed with tense caution. She stayed close, and anytime anyone drew near she stepped in front of Aiden protectively. As they’d broken camp she tried one more time to talk Aiden out of this reconnaissance mission, but Aiden would not be dissuaded.

  They hadn’t spoken as they wandered through the small narrow alleyways. Stone and brick dwellings crowded close to the dirt alleys, and occasionally Aiden was able to glimpse the interior through an open door. Every place looked sad and forlorn. No wonder Balak sought to capture Olmstead. He’d ground Belstaff into the dirt.

  Aiden tried to scope things out from the shielded view of the cloak. The day was overcast and cool, especially with the breeze coming in from the sea, so the warmth of the cloak was welcomed.

  Raised voices caused Venn to pull to a stop in front of her. She tried to look past Venn’s shoulder.

  “Get back.” Venn motioned for Aiden to move away from the street.

  “What’s going on?” Aiden strained to see.

  They stilled at the corner of a small stone market building. A scuffle of some kind was happening just ahead near a seller’s cart. She heard a man talking but couldn’t make out his words, only his tone, which was definitely angry. She leaned around Venn for a better look. There was a man shouting at some poor merchant. The merchant cowered and kept nodding his head as the older man berated him about something. No, wait—the merchant’s daughter had thrown something at the well-dressed man. The child had thrown an apple. The shouting man was holding it as he yelled.

  The shouting man stood out from the rest because his clothing was richly colored and clean. There were two men with him in uniform. How had Aiden not noticed? She’d been drawn to his erratic angry movements and hadn’t seen them.

  Wait. The fine clothing, the polished boots, the men-at-arms, the enraged sense of entitlement.

  “That’s Balak,” Venn hissed.

  Aiden took a half step closer, but she felt Venn’s arm reach across her chest to stop her.

  Balak was still angrily berating the poor merchant but had also started taking swings at him with a club. The merchant’s daughter was crying and trying to reach her father, but onlookers held the girl back as they edged away from the scene. Some were crying, some looked away, others had angry, dark expressions on their faces but made no move to help the man.

  The man crumpled to the ground and raised his arm in an attempt to shield his head from the club. Balak was on him with ferocity, as if he were in some crazed fit of vengeance. He’s going to kill him! Rage surged through her body. She could watch this display of violence against an unarmed man no longer. Aiden stepped from the shadows.

  She put her hand to her sword and took another step forward. Venn roughly grabbed her, pulled her back into the shadows, and pressed her back against the wall with her forearm across her chest. Aiden fought against her, but Venn was too strong.

  “Let me go!”

  “No. Aiden, stop it, stop! This is not the time.” Venn began to drag her away from the scene as more onlookers gathered, keeping themselves at a safe distance.

  Aiden had never witnessed such callous violence. Her hands shook with fury. The distraught look on the girl’s face was etched in her mind. She tried to break free again, but Venn held her fast and struggled to pull her into a narrow side alley out of view.

  “Stop, Aiden. There’s nothing you can do.” Aiden felt Venn’s arms tighten around hers. “Don’t fight me. We’re here to do something larger than defend one man. Aiden, listen to me.”

  The blood rushing in Aiden’s ears began to subside. Her heart still pounded in her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut against the man’s cries. And then there was silence. She relaxed in Venn’s arms, defeated. She felt Venn stroke her hair as she held her against her chest.

  “There was nothing we could do.”

  “We could have stopped him.”

  “And revealed yourself to a crowd, in front of how many of Balak’s armed men.”

  Aiden wrapped her arms around Venn.

  “Aiden, this is Belstaff now. You wanted to see it for yourself.”

  “I know.” Aiden’s voice was muffled by Venn’s cloak.

  “We can’t win an open fight without help. We need the support of Kathryn and her troops.” Venn still held Aiden with a hand on each arm. “Do you understand? I’m not saying we won’t fight. And I’m not saying I won’t fight by your side. But when we do fight, I intend for you to win.”

  Aiden nodded and brushed a tear away with the back of her hand.

  “Now, let’s wait for the crowd to clear and then do what we came here to do. We need to get close enough to the castle to see what sort of security he has. It’s been twenty years since I set foot there. I want to know what’s changed before we charge in there.”

  Aiden leaned against the wall and let out a long sigh. It started to rain. She leaned out past the eaves and let the raindrops cool her heated face.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Kathryn looked at herself in the mirror as she pulled her hair back into a clasp. Rowan had stayed in her room all night and then returned with coffee and some toast before Kathryn had even dressed. They’d stayed up most of the night talking, in an attempt to distract themselves from their worries. Rowan was seated on a nearby sofa. She sipped coffee with her feet tucked under her.

  Loud footsteps echoed on the stone stairway outside her chamber. Rowan must have heard them too. She jumped off the sofa and came to stand near Kathryn. The door opened and Frost burst into the room. She had four rough looking people with her
that Kathryn didn’t recognize, three men and one woman. All of them carried weapons and small arms. They looked like a small force of invaders.

  The first thought that came to Kathryn was that Frost was under some threat, but then she realized that Frost knew them. They seemed to be following her command. Kathryn’s brain struggled to make sense of what she was seeing.

  “Frost, what’s the meaning of this?” Rowan stood at her side. They both faced the intruders, but they were both also unarmed. Kathryn never kept weapons in her chamber. Her crossbow was in the arms room downstairs.

  “Take her. Leave the other.” Frost pointed first at Kathryn then at Rowan.

  One of the intruders strode across the room and grabbed Kathryn’s arm. She slapped him, and he slapped her back.

  “Enough!” Frost caught the man’s arm before he could hit Kathryn again. “She is not to be harmed. Not in any way. Do you understand me?”

  The man responded with something that sounded more like a grunt than an actual response.

  “Frost, what are you doing?” Rowan tried to put herself between Kathryn and Frost.

  “Step aside, Rowan.” Frost’s tone was icy. It was as if Frost had become someone else. Someone she didn’t recognize. And for the first time, Kathryn was afraid.

  The woman who’d come with Frost pulled Rowan aside and shoved her to the floor. “Stay down,” she barked.

  “Kathryn is coming with us. I’d advise you to stay clear. I don’t want to have to hurt you, but I will if you try to intervene.”

  Rowan looked as if she was going to try to get up, but Kathryn gave her a look that she hoped said, No, don’t. The man who’d slapped her pulled her toward the door of her chamber. A second man joined him by taking her other arm, and they half dragged her, half carried her down the tower stairs and along the long corridor to the grand staircase.

  They passed the body of one of the maids on the floor, unconscious. As they neared the throne room, Kathryn strained to see through the open door. The chancellor’s body lay face down. Panic surged in her chest. This had all been a setup. Her solders had been deployed without her consent, Aiden was away, and now the chancellor had been killed. There was no one to save her.

  As they crossed the entryway, one of the burly men that ran the kitchen rushed from the doorway with a large carving knife in his hand; two other young men followed him. All were dispatched within minutes by the broadswords of the thugs Frost had brought into the castle.

  Kathryn fought against the two men who dragged her to horses tied at the base of the wide front steps of the castle. They were trying to force Kathryn to get on a horse when Rowan rushed down the steps and tried to pull one of the men off Kathryn. Rowan had a small dagger in her hand and managed to slice the man’s arm. He turned on her in a fury. He punched her so hard she fell to the ground, dropping the knife. He drew his sword and raised it.

  “No!” Kathryn broke free and covered Rowan’s body with her own.

  “Enough. Stand down.” Frost commanded that the man put his sword away. “Kathryn, get on that horse or more people will be hurt. I have my orders.”

  “On whose orders?” Kathryn had a bad feeling that she already knew.

  “Balak is expecting you in Belstaff. I’m to bring you, conscious or unconscious. I’d prefer the former, but I’ll turn you over to these men if you don’t cooperate.”

  “If I go with you no one else will suffer?”

  “No. You have my word.”

  Kathryn almost burst into laughter. Frost’s word was worth less than nothing at this point, but she’d do anything to keep Rowan safe.

  “Don’t come after me. Please, Rowan, I couldn’t survive if something happened to you,” Kathryn urgently whispered as she was jerked up from the ground. Rowan watched, her eyes filling with tears.

  Other household staff had gathered at the head of the stairs above them, but they were unarmed, held back by one of Frost’s men.

  Frost took something from her jacket and tossed it on the ground near Rowan. “When Aiden returns, make sure she gets this.” Balak’s red wax seal on the envelope was unmistakable.

  Kathryn’s hands had been tied in front of her. She held on to the horn of the saddle, as her horse was lead by one of the other riders. They obviously didn’t trust her with the reins of her own horse. They moved at a fairly quick pace through the narrow dirt streets of the village, headed toward the main gate.

  Her heart seized as they galloped by the castle stables. She saw Gareth lying motionless in the churned earth. He didn’t stir or acknowledge their passing in any way. Frost must have known Gareth would try to stop this. Frost had neutralized anyone who would interfere. Damn her. Smartly, she’d struck very early before any other nobles arrived at the court. Kathryn had been essentially alone and vulnerable, with only the servants of the house on the grounds. Most of the villagers must have already been out tending their crops or inside doing the baking for the day. The scent of fresh bread was in the air. Hardly anyone was about as they rode through the huge gate. And why would anyone interfere if they’d been noticed? Everyone trusted Frost, including Kathryn, until now.

  As Starford Keep receded behind them, Kathryn searched her memory for some clue, some reason that Frost would have to betray her in this way. She couldn’t think of anything. The thought that Frost had been given access to every part of the castle, including the arms room and the map room, gave her great concern. The deployment of troops now made complete sense. For surely at least some of them would not have followed Frost down this path. She’d had to import mercenaries from Belstaff.

  These people riding with Frost were rough, hardened, and barely in control of their tempers. One of them was a woman, but not like any woman Kathryn had ever seen. Her face was scarred and her hair shorn. She wore wide metal cuffs at each wrist and had tattoos on her forearms. But none of those things made her seem less female to Kathryn. It was her manner. The hungry look in her eyes when she regarded Kathryn, as if she’d just as soon cut her heart out as take her to bed.

  Kathryn drew herself in, trying to seem small. She made every attempt not to make eye contact with any of them. Frost had sold her to the devil, but at what price and for what purpose?

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Aiden was so happy to see Starford Keep come into view across the grassy field as they broke through the trees. They’d ridden through miserable rain off and on during their return from Windsheer Castle. Aiden had witnessed all she could tolerate during one morning in the village. She’d finally seen Balak for the first time, and the image of watching him beat a defenseless man to death was probably forever burned into her brain. She saw it every time she closed her eyes. But Venn had been right to stop her from trying to intervene. She needed to return with more troops and put an end to his reign, forever.

  They’d seen how his subjects suffered, hovering near the edge of poverty in a land where they should have plenty.

  Aiden had waited impatiently in the shadows while Venn had ventured close to the main entrance of the castle. She’d returned with a head count of sentries, and she’d been able to study people coming and going through the main door enough to hopefully be able to formulate a plan of attack. The element of surprise would be their best offense. But the more they knew going in, the more effective their assault would be.

  They’d ridden hard to get back to the keep in Olmstead, only stopping to sleep and let the horses rest for a few hours before riding again.

  The stable was quiet when they dismounted. Almost too quiet. Gareth was nowhere in sight. One of his stable hands took their horses from them as they unfastened their bedrolls and gear.

  Aiden’s back was stiff from riding and from very little sleep. She’d been too wound up on the ride to Belstaff and too upset during the ride back. Her legs felt sluggish as she climbed the steps to enter the castle. As they entered, servants gave them furtive glances and ducked out of sight. Aiden looked to Venn, confused by the manner of the servants. />
  “Something isn’t right.” Venn dropped her gear in the entryway and pulled her sword free.

  Aiden didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but something did seem off. She followed Venn’s lead and freed her sword as well. They walked through the great hall, past the throne room, past Kathryn’s study, and each room was empty. The entire place was eerily quiet. They climbed the grand staircase to the second level. Just as they crested the top step, Rowan ran toward them. She fell into Venn’s arms.

  “Rowan, what’s wrong?” Venn held her sword in one hand and held Rowan against her chest with the other.

  “I saw you ride in from the tower window. Thank the goddess you’ve returned.” It was hard to hear what Rowan was saying clearly, her voice was muffled against Venn’s shirt.

  “Rowan, where’s Kathryn?” Aiden felt afraid.

  “Oh, Aiden, they took her.” She could see now that Rowan had been crying. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and there was a nasty bruise on her cheek.

  “Who took her? Took her where?” Aiden put her sword back in its sheath at her belt and touched Rowan’s arm.

  “Frost and mercenaries from Belstaff. This morning—” Rowan looked back and forth between Aiden and Venn. “This morning they came very early. No one was here. The soldiers are all gone—”

  “What do you mean the soldiers are gone? Rowan, you’re not making sense.” Venn held her at arm’s length so she could look at her face. “Who hit you?”

  “They—”

  “Did they hurt you?” Venn cut Rowan off. She was getting angry. Aiden had never witnessed Venn angry. Not even when they’d seen Balak beat a man to death. Venn had kept a cool head when Aiden had not.

  A creeping sense of panic settled in the short hairs at the back of Aiden’s neck. She ran her fingers through her hair.

  “I’m not hurt, but Gareth is. Badly. And the chancellor and some of the staff are dead.”

  “What did you mean when you said the soldiers are gone?” It was hard to piece the details together with Rowan so upset, but Venn was trying.