Seven Ways to Kill a King

by Melissa Wright

  Cass stared back at her, his naked legs curled into a wide metal tub, muscled torso bare. The waitress from the night before dropped two towels onto a table beside the tub.

  “Well met, miss,” the woman said.

  Miri felt her gaze shoot away from Cass’s bare flesh. His abdomen was tight where it dipped into the murky water. It was the wrong thing to do, and she was being rude to the maid, but she couldn’t seem to gather her wits.

  “Wife,” Cass said smoothly in greeting before the silence stretched on.

  The coolness in his tone, as if the situation were entirely fine, cut through Miri’s horror. “Good morning,” she managed.

  The woman inclined her head slightly then turned from the room. Miri pressed her eyes closed. A few muffled shouts echoed from the stables, followed by a familiar nickering and pawing of hooves. Then she heard the cascade of water falling from Cass’s form as he stood from the tub and rinsed the soap off. Miri turned to face the door, refusing to open her eyes.

  She heard his footsteps as he walked to the mirror, then came the clatter of a razor and a bowl. Curse him, he was going to shave while she waited. It was likely that he was only torturing her, reminding Miri that her whims were not his law. She would be damned to seven hells if he thought she would be cowed. She bit down against her instincts of civility and crossed to the stool. Cass might not have to listen to her, but he bleeding well knew he’d no business alone with a naked princess, not if he meant to leave his honor as a guardsman intact.

  Checkmate, Miri thought as she unlaced her vest. She did not turn when she heard Cass gathering his things but waited until he shut the door. If he wanted to play the game of rules and law, he’d chosen the wrong opponent.

  Miri undressed slowly, checking her hem for the lump of her mother’s hidden pendant before she stepped carefully into the tub. She was well and truly settled when she realized he’d used the last of the hot water from the bucket beside the tub. She opened her mouth to call for the maid but remembered the look from the woman’s sister in the hall—the smile when she’d said, “Of course you do,” to Miri’s request for a bath. They thought the two newly wed had planned a midmorning tryst. Miri ground her teeth and stepped out of the tub, splattering water across the stone floor as she made her way to grab the pitcher by the mirror. Cold water it was, if it meant not giving Cass the satisfaction of winning.

  She was dressed in her trading clothes, hair wrapped in a tight braid and what might pass as a skinning knife at her side, when she walked into the cool morning air. Cass was waiting for her by the stables, and the apparent conversation he was having with a broad-shouldered man cut off as she crossed to meet them. The man disappeared into the shadows, and Cass approached Miri as the boy brought their saddled horses nearer. Cass threw him another coin, and the boy nodded, handing over the reins to go.

  Cass raised a hand for Miri to help her onto her horse. She looked at the proffered palm for a moment then at Cass’s clean-shaven face. She let her eyes linger on the small patch of scruff he’d missed by the edge of his jaw then smiled as she took his help to mount her horse.

  Miri remembered once being offered a hand by a boy at court and her mockingly sweet response of, “But who would help you, Lord Hammond, once the rest of us are ahorse?” Lord Ham Hock, Lettie had called him. Gods, but they’d been cruel. What Miri wouldn’t give to go back to those days and recapture every single moment and live them again.

  She would warn her mother and say anything that might have made the difference. But her mother had known. Miri remembered, too, how as a girl she’d mentioned one of the men who now called themselves kings.

  “I don’t like the way he looks at you, Momma.”

  Her mother had patted Miri’s hand, the reassuring motion belying the resolve in her mother’s tone. “I know, my little bean. That is the look of a thirst for power. You’re right not to trust it.” The Lion Queen had not liked it either. She had known the men were out for her blood.

  But Miri’s mother had never thought they would use the sorcerers. No one had imagined what had happened could truly be done.

  Miri drew a breath, suddenly aware of Cass’s eyes on her. She gave a small nod. She had hold of it. She was fine. Cass nudged his horse forward toward the trail—toward King Casper of Pirn.

  Chapter 7

  “Tell me again where we’re going.” Miri’s words were mild, but a vague playfulness fluttered in her gut. She was bored. Surely, that was all it was. But sparring with Cass had felt good. Banter and social company were something she’d rarely had since she was a girl, and it kept her mind occupied with something other than their impending death.

  Cass’s chest swelled in a sigh, but he played along. “A stately manor on the outskirts of Pirn.”

  “Will it be lovely?” she asked. “Rich and glorious, ostentatious in a way that I have never seen?”

  Cass gave her a sidelong glance, as they both well knew the palaces and cities the princess had visited. The manor would be nothing of the sort. “My lady, you will be struck speechless at its very presence.”

  His tone said with any luck, and Miri swallowed a snort. She nudged her horse faster. “I cannot wait. It’s been quite some time since I’ve been dumbstruck. I hope this manor is up to the challenge.”

  Cass’s fingers resituated on his reins, and she wondered briefly if he was thinking of her reaction when she’d walked in on his bath. Frowning, she realized she’d certainly left him an opening there. She was out of practice.

  “I’d like a sword,” she announced abruptly.

  That earned her a full glance.

  She nodded. “I’m falling out of practice, here on the trail, and it will feel good to get some exercise after the long rides.”

  “My lady—”

  “A trader should know how to properly use a blade.”

  Miri could tell he wanted to argue that he’d given her a proper blade, but he only nodded. “We’ll find one in the market at Pirn.”

  It would be an unidentifiable one that she could drop and would not be tracked back should they need to run. Miri’s eyes fell to her hands and the worn leather of the reins against her pale, dirt-smudged skin. She drew a deep breath and took in the forest, which was made of tall, narrow trees that were well into the season. They were far from the nearest town and several days from Pirn. The wait was going to kill her if the actual plan did not.

  “And throwing blades,” Miri said. “At the market. It’s been so long since I’ve tried my hand at that.”

  Cass gave her a look. She ignored it. Nan had hidden Miri’s throwing knives after an unfortunate incident involving a bag of grain and two chickens.

  “It’s probably a skill you don’t forget.”

  Miri’s words were more for herself than anyone else, but Cass slowed his horse.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He sighed again. “Seems like you’re ready to take a break. Why don’t we stop for lunch?”

  The words were not really phrased as a question, but Cass drew up short before he’d slipped a leg over his mount. His head snapped toward the horizon, and he scanned the trees.

  Smoke—Miri smelled it too.

  Cass turned his horse, urging Miri to follow, but before he could kick up a run, she said, “Wait!”

  His answering expression was grave.

  “It’s not a campfire,” Miri said. It was something else—something rancid and smelling faintly of old, damp straw. “We should help. It may be someone’s barn.”

  Cass didn’t speak but let his gaze warn her instead.

  “They’re burning people out,” Miri whispered. She stared at him for several moments, the idea of it making her sick. She should not go—Cass was right—but she couldn’t let the kingsmen keep hurting people in her mother’s name.

  It was foolish. The smart thing was to run the other way. If she wanted to save her sister, she should stay as far away from the kingsmen and their trouble as possible.


  She knew what happened when citizens rose against them. She knew how the kings would make everyone pay.

  Miri kicked her heels hard into Wolf’s flanks and jerked the reins out of Cass’s reach as she sped past him. She was done, tired of allowing good people to be murdered.

  As Miri rode into the clearing at full speed, ducking under limbs and brush, the pillar of smoke rose through the trees like a beacon.

  Cass caught her just as she broke through the line of trees, bits of earth flying from their horses’ hooves as he grabbed the reins to jerk Wolf to a broken halt. She might have fought him, but her attention had caught on the figures in the distance. Half a dozen kingsmen held a struggling woman and a bloodied man in their grasps.

  Cass laid a hand on Miri’s forearm, and she met his steady gaze. His posture was pure anticipation. His other hand was on his reins, loose and ready to wield a blade. An understanding passed between them. Miri would have to decide. Face the kingsmen at risk to Cass’s life and hers, or abandon the man and woman to their fate of being dragged to Stormskeep and tortured for their loyalty to the long-dead queen.

  She didn’t know what to do. There was no right answer. There was a chance she and Cass couldn’t overcome so many trained kingsmen on their own. And if they did, they had little chance to escape before others were warned. If Miri saved those two people, she would be sacrificing a chance to help so many more.

  A shout rang out in the clearing as a spiral of fire rose through the air.

  It wasn’t half a dozen kingsmen—it was half a dozen kingsmen and a sorcerer.

  Miri’s blood ran cold. “Go,” she whispered.

  Cass turned to sprint back into the woods. The horses were sure-footed and well trained, and Miri and Cass had both ridden since they were young. They should have made it. They should have gotten free.

  A black-cloaked figure stepped from behind a tree and grabbed Miri’s leg as she barreled past. Cass slammed into them just as Miri’s form was ripped from the saddle, and Wolf reared and spun in the tangle of limbs and reins. Cass’s arm drew Miri onto his horse, and he leapt from the horse the moment she had a grip on his saddle.

  Cass’s body seemed to ram headlong into the kingsman as Miri grappled for Milo’s reins. She jerked the horse to a spinning stop just as Cass rolled over the form of the kingsman, black fabric and leaves dancing through the air in their wake. After only a brief struggle came the sickening sound of blade through flesh, then Cass crouched over the prone form, eyes on the forest around them.

  Miri held her breath, waiting to see if someone had heard and if more were coming. Cass’s eyes met hers, and Miri could see she was meant to run, but she didn’t.

  The snap of a twig made her wish she had. Her gaze flicked to the trees, hands and heart trembling with the need to run, and she saw the black cloak of a tall, slender man. Cass straightened, and the two of them exchanged hurried gestures before Cass turned to stride toward Miri. He closed the distance to grab the saddle and pull himself up behind her. She startled, shifting forward, but Cass spoke low in her ear.

  “We need to get out of here. Terric will take care of our trail.”

  Miri tried to look at Cass, but he was pressed too close against her, and she couldn’t see to gauge his expression. “We can’t just leave him—”

  “Go,” he whispered into her ear. When he apparently realized she meant to argue, he reached around to her grab the reins himself. “This is our duty, princess. This is his duty.”

  Miri’s eyes shot to the cloaked man, who was already starting his work. His duty. It was to protect her and—if need be—to die in place of the queen or her family. She thought she might be sick.

  Miri leaned forward. Cass’s chest was pressed against her back. Her guard was apparently unwilling to listen to anything she might say. The queensguard would die if he were caught, but if they stayed, Miri and Cass would die along with him. He was following a queen’s order, not Miri’s. She couldn’t stop it.

  The horse raced through the trees, his gait smooth, but Cass and Miri were ill fit in the narrow saddle. Miri pressed her legs tight to stay ahorse, hands gripping over the edge of the saddle leather and into Milo’s mane. A short, sharp whistle came from behind her, then Wolf ran back through the trees, nostrils flared but eyes not wide with terror. He’d been trained well. He came to a stop beside them, and Cass took hold of Miri’s waist to throw her astride. He wasted no time before they were off again, at a full run through the forests of Pirn.

  They didn’t stop until well past nightfall, when Cass was satisfied that they had not been trailed. They’d crossed a dozen creeks, only to cross again, and gone through thick brush and sand in order to confuse their path. But they hadn’t been followed. Terric had taken care of that. Gods, she hoped he was alive. She hoped he had not been caught.

  They would know soon enough. As soon as they made it to Pirn, rumor of the kingsmen would pass to their ears. It would be a wonder if Miri’s rash action had not set the king’s full guard on a rampage through Pirn.

  Miri and Cass set their camp at the base of a small rise, and Cass tied the horses nearby. He lit a fire, snapping the wood with more force than might have been necessary. His fingers were still flaked with the kingsman’s dried blood.

  She was a fool—a sodding fool.

  Cass leaned down to blow on the flame, and when the light flared, it caught his expression. Miri had thought him angry, and certainly, he was, but something else simmered beneath his displeasure. Terric was a queensguard and had been his friend. Miri hadn’t just risked cost to herself. If Terric didn’t make it, it would cost them both.

  Her fingertips curled into her palms. She sank to sit on the cool ground, heedless of the settled dew.

  “I’m going for meat.” Cass gave her a look, one that seemed to imply she should stay precisely where she was until he returned—possibly longer.

  She managed a curt nod.

  Then he was gone. The horses let out quiet breaths and tore occasional clumps of grass from beneath the trees. Shadows shifted outside the fire, and after a time, the faint sounds of the forest returned. Miri tried not to drown in her thoughts. Her hands could do nothing to occupy her mind, for her heart had no interest in finding the occupation. She’d been there before. She’d made mistakes and chosen wrong. It had always made her feel exactly that alone.

  By the time Cass came back through the trees, cold had settled into Miri’s bones. She’d added a few sticks to the fire, but it hadn’t helped.

  Cass dropped the body of a small rabbit onto the ground across from her. Its form was limp and molded to the curves of the earth. He knelt before it wordlessly and shifted the rabbit to puncture its fur.

  “Have you thought about it? About what you’re going to do?” His low voice felt loud in the darkness. His long fingers curled tighter around the animal’s neck as he pulled the pelt slowly down its form.

  Miri knew what he was doing, but she would not be scared away, and she let him see it in her gaze.

  “You’re not capable of killing a man with your bare hands.” His words were flat and without malice.

  She didn’t bother arguing that she would have a sword. She knew how the struggle of fighting went and that it was never truly how one planned. “I have killed,” she said quietly.

  “Chickens. Maybe a doe.” He met her stare. “It’s not the same.”

  “It’s not different.” It was. Killing to eat was not killing to kill. Wild game was no man. It was only a meal.

  Cass was trying to scare her because of what she’d done and because they were getting closer to Pirn and the nearness of executing her plan. But there was no turning back. She had no other choice.

  It wouldn’t be easy. And yes, she’d drawn a bow on a deer and watched the light fade from its eyes at her strike and known it would never again fawn. But she’d never killed a man. Of course, she’d imagined it. Countless times, she’d envisioned holding each of those kings by the scruff of his neck, tugging
his head back, and holding a blade at his throat as she whispered, “The Lion Queen sends her regards.”

  She deserved to be scared. But she would not be turned away.

  “There wouldn’t be sympathizers if the kings were doing even a remotely decent job.” Cass’s eyes shot to hers, but Miri kept on. “That man and woman would not have lost their home, their barn, and their freedom if the treasonous bastard lords who stole the throne knew a thing about how to rule. People are starving. Trade suffers even now. A good day’s wage will barely buy a hock of meat.” Miri bit down hard against the words. Cass didn’t need that lecture. He understood better than her.

  Things were falling apart. Those men had not taken her mother’s rule because the Lion Queen had done poorly at it. They’d stolen it for greed and because it had seemed like that power was something to envy. Since that day, the people of the realm had suffered. For years, it had only grown worse.

  Cass shoved the empty shell of the rabbit, tied to a stick as a mass of strange pale forms, into the fire.

  He stayed knelt across the fire from Miri, his eyes on the flickering flames. Miri thought about the words they’d overheard at the inn, the children and girls taken by the kingsmen, and how their blood would be used by the sorcerers at the king’s command.

  When the meat had finally cooked through, Cass shifted it away from the flame. It was several moments before he lifted the spit from the fire and came around to settle beside Miri. He didn’t speak as he offered her first share. Miri tore a small hunk free, and the meat was hot against her chilled fingers. He took the spit back, looked at it for another few moments, then slid it toward the fire. He glanced at his boots, settled the heels firmly into the earth, and wrapped his arms loosely around his knees.

  Miri took a bite of her portion, but the hot grease felt thick in her throat and made her stomach turn.

  They didn’t speak until the fire burned low.

  “I’m going to Pirn.” Miri’s voice was barely a whisper, but her words were no less a vow. “And I’m going to kill that bastard king before the next moon.”