by Alex Shobe
“Use us.” Aiden touches my elbow. I lift my head to meet his eyes. “You just released over a hundred men. Maybe they’d be willing to fight on your behalf.”
I shake my head, my vision lagging, and pull away from his contact. “I can’t ask that of them. They just got their freedom back. They wouldn’t want to risk it again.”
“I would.”
“So would I.” Colton lifts his shoulder in a half-shrug.
The ache moves from my throat and travels down to my chest. I turn away from the men. Although the warm air wraps me in its embrace, there’s a biting chill on my skin.
In the distance, the Erenese banner hangs from the highest tower of the castle. The burgundy and white flag billows, its edges snapping against the wind. Hope. That’s what Mother told me the flag meant. She’d said it was strung there so anyone within Demesne’s outer limits could see it and be reminded that hope will never be lost. Well, I hope you were right, Mother.
I hook my fingers behind my neck and keep my country’s flag in my view. “Do you really think they’ll go for it?”
Aiden nudges my arm. “Only one way to find out.”
Colton
“Watch your step.” I point down at the blended snake hole in the forest leaves and lost branches. As the sun begins its slow descent, most of the land is dry for an easier travel. Some obstacles can’t be avoided though.
Leona nods and steps lightly over the earth, as though the snakes could snap at any moment. I let her pass me and smile, careful not to let her see my amusement. I don’t know her very well but seeing how she reacts to life outdoors firmly establishes my opinion of noble folk. They wouldn’t know how to survive on their own even if game smacked them in the face.
“So, Aiden,” Leona says, “are you from Maburh as well?”
Aiden slows his pace to step in line with her. His pale freckled skin is distinct from her tan complexion.
“Nope. Durst.”
Leona smiles. “Ah. It’s been awhile since I’ve visited, but I remember that it looks so beautiful there in the autumn.”
“When was the last time you stepped foot out of Demesne?” I ask, swatting a hornet in front of my face.
“Ever since—” She looks back and twists her face up in confusion as she watches me slap the air. The hornet takes off in an angry buzz, so I’ll probably regret that in a second. “Are you all right back there?” Her mouth shifts into a grin.
Aiden glances back as well with a failed attempt at stifling a laugh.
My eyes drift continuously, taking in my full scope of vision, on the lookout for an insect with a vengeance. “Yep, I’m good.”
She shakes her head and turns her focus back in front of her. “After my parents’ accident, I haven’t been in a rush to go outside of the city.” The silence of the forest amplifies the tone of her words.
“Did they ever find out what really happened?” Aiden asks.
Her voice lowers in volume. “The Magistrate has stood by his initial conclusion—that the horses got spooked by the storm and tried to run through a fast-moving river.”
“You sound like you don’t believe that.” I pick up my pace so we’re walking side by side.
She looks up at me, her gray eyes appearing bluer in the sunlight. “They always took the same path when they went on tours. They shouldn’t have been anywhere near that river.”
“Is it possible that they could’ve taken a detour that one time?” Aiden presses his lips together.
“I doubt it. My father was all about traditions. He would’ve never opted to go that route, especially knowing how dangerous the storm was making the journey home.” Her voice trails off and she stops in her tracks. Aiden and I both stop with her. “I don’t believe their drowning was an accident.” Aiden and I exchange a glance, but she continues. “I found a trade proposal that was drafted by my father two days before the accident.”
I narrow my eyes and totter my foot over a tree root. “What’s wrong with a trade proposal?”
She sets her jaw, a flash of anger in her eyes. “The Council was against it.” There’s venom on her tongue as she refers to them. In the arena, I could always spot them in the crowd. The golden badges shined on the thick sashes they wore across their bodies. They always sat close to the monarch’s gallery, but never inside it.
A breath hitches in my throat. “So, you’re thinking they killed them?”
“It seems like motive enough,” Aiden says.
“Seeing as how the Council was behind the attempt on my life, it’s not too hard to believe they were behind my parents’ deaths as well.”
“Damn.” I shake my head. “They’ll really kill to get their way?”
Leona sighs and continues walking. “Guess so.”
A speck of leftover guilt dries my throat as my harsh words from last night replay in my mind. I was an ass. She was only trying to do her best with the crap odds that life dealt her. When you have a whole group hellbent on using you like a puppet, it’s insane how easily they’ll clip your strings when you stop cooperating.
The sun peeks through the tree canopy and warms the back of my neck. I half-close my eyes, open enough to watch where I’m stepping but still take in the moment of peace at the same time. The sound of trickling to my right catches my attention. I stop and turn my head in that direction.
“Hold on,” I say to the others, and they pause and backtrack toward me.
I walk past some brush and scan the ground. A stream. Fresh water glides over the rocks, separating and merging past larger stones. My throat aches, as though the sight of the water reminds it that it’s thirsty.
“Good job.” Aiden shakes my shoulder as he moves past me to a spot along the stream.
I kneel and cup my hands together. The water rushes in, filling my makeshift cup until it overflows. I lean down and quickly drink the water from my hands, going back two more times to satisfy my thirst.
When I look up, Leona is ahead of me, sipping with care. Water runs down her arms, wetting the tattered edges of her dress. Her thighs, smooth and appealing, are exposed from the worn fabric. My eyes linger on them, then on the roundness of her butt, the arch in her back, until my eyes meet hers. I flinch. My mouth goes dry. She doesn’t say anything, only returns my gaze and offers a kindhearted smile. My cheeks turn ablaze, but I return the gesture. If she’s offended by my staring, she isn’t showing it. She looks away, splashes some water on her face, and stands upright. With her back turned, I steal another glance in her direction. Heat buzzes my skin from either shame or arousal—at this point, I’m not sure which.
I can’t ignore the way her dress hugs at her hips. It’s been so long since I’ve laid eyes on a female, my body can’t hide its response to her. Her skin looks so soft. I remember the scent on her skin as I lifted her from the hole. I wonder— Stop it. She’s a queen.
I splash my face with the cool water, an attempt to wash away the thoughts conjuring in my mind. With a quick shake of my head, the excess water gets casted off and I rise to my feet.
After a while, we continue in silence and leave the dense part of the forest. With no trees to filter the afternoon sun, it beams down in its full force. Sweat rolls down my shoulder blades. I tug at my shirt to let my skin breathe. We step onto a dirt path, leveled from the repeated use of travelers. Sparse grass and weeds line the trail.
“How much longer to Maburh?” Aiden asks.
“Maybe another hour, hour and a half. We should get there by dusk,” I answer. “You sure you don’t want to go home first?”
“Home?” He breathes a laugh. “Don’t have much of that left.”
Leona tilts her head, her eyes easy with curiosity. “Don’t you have a family back in Durst?”
“Family can be overrated.” Aiden lightly kicks a stone away with the side of his foot. “I have a father there, but he isn’t much of a father.”
There’s a pause, then Leona asks, “Why’s that?”
I glance at her. She exam
ines Aiden with such concern. Her eyebrows are furrowed, her head still tilted. She’s probably used to asking questions regardless of their privacy factor.
Aiden takes a moment before responding. Leona looks on, waiting for her answer.
“Let’s just say he blames me for something I had no control over.”
Leona nods and keeps quiet. It’s hard to miss the reluctance—and pain—in his voice. In the weeks I’ve known Aiden, I’ve never heard him talk about family. Then again, there wasn’t much talking about the things that mattered. Only jokes and lighthearted conversations shared between cells to ease our minds and maintain our sanity.
“Psst,” Aiden says under his breath.
My eyes dart to him, then I follow his line of sight. Two guards walking toward us.
“Should we run?” Leona whispers.
“It’s too late—we’ve already been spotted,” I say to her. “Get behind us.”
Her eyes widen as she follows my direction. She hovers close behind me. I feel the heat of her skin and the tremble of her nerves through my shirt.
We move to the side of the road, opposite the guards, and keep our heads down as we walk. In my peripheral view, the guards’ eyes are concentrated on us. Their dark cloaks flap in the wind at their backs. The metal buckles on their boots clink in time with their steps. Their coats are a deep shade of blood, probably colored with the lives of all the innocent people they’ve taken.
My eyes shift from the ground to their waists, taking in the weapons they possess. Each walks with a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, fingers flexing in anticipation. There’s at least two, maybe three, knives between both of them.
“Aye, stop right there,” one of the men says.
I hold my breath and watch the guards come closer. I scan them over like I do—did—every time before a match. I look for weaknesses I can exploit, strengths I could tarnish, anything that could help us in the here and now. There’s only one way this confrontation will end, and I’ll be ready for it.
Leona clutches my arm and drops her head down, resting it against my spine. I’m sure she can feel the tension building in my back.
“What’re you doing out here?” the other guard asks. He digs the toe of his boot into the ground. His feet move into a wide stance to make himself appear larger than he is.
Aiden and I look at one another. He tenses his jaw, then relaxes it. His head drops into a subtle nod.
“We’re on our way to visit a friend,” he says. His voice is calm, and he maintains eye contact with the guardsmen.
The guards regard us with a fake smile. Their eyes scan us, taking in our battered clothing and the film of dirt still in our hair.
“Visiting a friend, huh? Well, ain’t that nice...”
The odor of stale ale and dung invade my nose when the shorter of the two guards takes a step closer to me. Sunlight glints off the steel clasp on his cloak, the symbol of Erenen engraved on its face. “Who’s that you got behind you?”
Leona grips my arm tighter.
My eyes narrow on the man. “It’s just our sister, sir. She’s very timid around strangers.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “We don’t want any trouble. We’ll just be on our way, if you don’t mind.”
The short man licks his lips and puts his hands on his belt. “I don’t suppose your sister’s for sale, huh? Just for an hour, or so.” He lifts on his toes to peek over my shoulder. “What’s she worth? Ten, fifteen coin? Let me get a look at her.”
Heat shoots up through my feet into a chaos of flames in my chest. I run the pads of my middle fingers over my thumbs on both hands, searching for a way to keep my cool in this toxic situation. I focus on my breath. “Sir,” I say again, carefully. “We don’t want any trouble.”
This is the last warning I’m allowing them. Aiden and I share a quiet glance. I’ve never seen him fight before but I hope he can hold his own.
“It’s not up to you whether you get trouble or not, boy.” He tries to shove me out of the way, but I don’t budge. He gruffs then tries again. I square my shoulders and my feet remain planted firmly in place.
The short guard draws his sword, and his partner follows suit. I drop into a defensive stance, revealing Leona to the men.
“Aye!” the tall guard says. “It’s that queen bitch!”
I whip my head behind me. “Get somewhere safe.”
My arm goes cold where she breaks contact. She runs toward the nearest treeline and takes cover. The short guard grunts as he swings his sword. A cool breeze rushes past my face as the metal slices the air. He grunts again with each jab in my direction. My agility allows me to dodge his attacks. Left, right, left again. He’s a horrible fighter, giving away all his movements with his sour breath.
I glimpse at Aiden. He’s bleeding from his arm. I can’t tell how badly he’s injured, but he continues to fight the other guard with a relentlessness I’ve never seen on him.
I duck under the guard’s sword and land a punch to his side. He stumbles backward, nearly losing his hold of his weapon. As I advance on him, I keep the tip of the blade in my sights. The guard finds his footing, grasps the hilt with both hands, growls, then raises it above his head. I strike, my fist connecting with his jaw before he has a chance to swing the sword. The impact causes him to fall to the side with a furious groan. The sword lands with a thud on the ground a couple of feet from him. My eyes dart from the blade to him. He claws at the ground and manages to roll over onto his hands and knees. I hurry over to the sword and scoop it into my hand, the texture of the hilt caressing my palm. I stalk toward him. The bottom of my boot finds his balding head, and he collapses onto the ground, his yelling muffled by a mouthful of dirt.
I’ve thought about this moment before. I’ve fantasized about what it’d be like to silence a guard’s life. A slow smile creeps on my lips. I touch the tip of the sword to the middle of his back, poking gently along his spine until I find a soft spot. I settle on the area where his heart would be—if he had one—and drive it in. I’m swift and the blade is sharp. There’s no tension as the metal passes through his thick leather uniform and the ruggedness of his skin. He writhes, clinging to whatever life he has left in these few seconds. I put my foot on his back and wait for his body to still.
There. Silence.
I withdraw the sword and look up as Aiden approaches, breathless, leaving another dead guard behind him. He nods. I roll the man over and pull back his cloak, granting me access to the two knives he has holstered to his belt. Each blade is inscribed with a delicate scroll pattern. Beautiful weaponry for a deadly cause. I slide the knives into my own belt and use the man’s cloak to clean his blood from the sword.
“You okay?” I ask Aiden, eyeing the wound on his shoulder.
“Yeah. Looks worse than it is.” He looks over to where Leona is standing. “It’s safe now.”
She has one hand pressed against the tree and the other wrapped around her stomach. She treads slowly from the cover of the trees to the trail. Her face pales as she looks in horror at the two dead bodies lying in the middle of the road.
She swallows, hard. “We can’t just leave them there.”
She’s right. Dead guards lead to questions, questions we’re still working out the answers to.
I look around for a good spot to hide them and find a pile of thick brush several meters off the road. Options are limited. It’ll have to do.
“Come on.” I nod toward the brush and Aiden helps me conceal the bodies.
“We need to get going before any more come through.” Aiden looks back and forth along the road.
“Yeah, we’re almost there. But first—” I slide one of the knives from my belt and hold it out to Leona. She raises an eyebrow and reluctantly takes the knife. “You need it,” I say, casting off her uncertainty. “Have you ever used one before?”
She blinks and I take that as a no.
“It’s really easy. Just put the sharp pointy end into their body and twist.”
; She rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Oh, is that all?” Her eyes are concentrated on mine as she tucks the knife under the thin gold chain around her waist. “I’ll keep that in mind, brother.”
I fight back the urge to smile, but a grin gets the better of me. Her stern eyes soften, and she brushes between Aiden and I, taking long steps toward our destination.
A panicked breath chills my lungs. I’m almost home. An ache throbs my head and I suck in air through my teeth. I rub my eyes with the back of the hand, easing the tension in my skull, but it doesn’t do much for the heaviness in my chest. I’m not the same person I was when I was taken away in the night. I’m a little more older. More wiser. More darker.
Colton
The familiar scent of sweet honey and smoke welcome me home as we pass the weather-worn sign leading to Maburh. Arching branches of young leaves with open buds line the road. The owls above hoot softly, their eyes tracking our every move. A chipmunk dashes in front of us, desperate to make it to safety before becoming a late-night snack.
We enter the village and walk down the winding path between the houses. I feel like a stranger, a tourist seeing the unique homes for the first time. The wooden columns on the porches are inscribed with fancy scroll work. Between the designs are sentimental phrases the residents etched in as recognition of values. Each house whispers the personality of the family that lives inside.
“It’s quiet here,” Leona says as she looks around. The moonlight bounces off her skin, giving her a cool-toned glow.
“Most people retire once the sun sets.” I lead them through the village square. Only four street lamps illuminate the area, casting long shadows from the stone well in the center. By morning, the square will be bustling with people as they socialize and trade their wares.
