PAULINE CREEDEN
CHRONICLES OF STEELE: RAVEN
Episode Four
© 2014 Pauline Creeden
Cover Design Copyright © 2014 by Alchemy Book Covers
Interior formatting and design by Marcy Rachel of Backstrip Publishing
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Synopsis:
The final episode of a 4 part Steampunk Fantasy set in an alternate universe. Peace and safety...a promise often made but seldom kept. Can Raven trust that anyone will be able to protect the young baron as she has?
The end is rarely ever the end.
Our troubles have a way of coming round again when we are not prepared for them.
STEPPING OUTSIDE THE shelter, Raven stretched and smiled at the sun. After two days of being stuck within the cramped space, the group of travelers had become pungent. Sweat-soaked bodies and soot from the fire mingled together into an unappetizing stew. Although the snow still was knee-deep, she was more than ready to leave.
Only faint wisps of clouds blighted the clear blue sky. The wind had died down and become tolerable as well. It was the perfect morning to embark after the continuous snowfall. Her uncle, Monroe, stepped up beside her and set a hand on her shoulder. “I’m getting cabin fever, myself, but Darius is too sick for us to do much more than take turns carrying him. And then there’s the problem of the witch.”
Raven’s gaze dropped to the cotton-haired crone. Deep wrinkles marred the woman’s face, and her skin was both white and thin, like paper. She’d been catatonic since the sleeping gas had debilitated her. The old woman neither moved nor spoke. She did nothing but breathe.
Monroe’s hand gripped Raven’s shoulder and offered her a grin that rivaled the sunshine. “Do you think the weather acceptable to start this trek today?”
“More than acceptable.” She laughed. “No matter, though. I’d rather disembark then stay in this wretched place a moment longer.”
Rupert drew up next to them, stretching his arms out and pounding his chest like a gorilla. He ran his hands through his close-cropped, dark hair. “We really must go, regardless. We’re out of food.”
Raven had figured as much. She turned back toward the shelter. Darius was smaller and weaker than she’d ever seen him. He still shivered in the pile of furs. The boy couldn’t seem to find the heat needed to keep his body warm, no matter how close he sat to the fire. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead from fever.
Marietta had given him herbs to keep the fever down, but claimed that she could do no more. The boy drank as much tea as they could make from the melted snow and horturf root, but it affected him very little.
Seeing Darius this way and knowing she could do little to help him made Raven feel restless. If she didn’t do something, anything, she’d scream. She met eyes with Grant and pulled a knife from the holster on her leg. “I believe we’ll be disassembling this shelter to make a sledge or two for the boy and the captive?”
With a nod, Grant and the other guardsmen pulled knives of their own, and together, they began.
An hour later, they had fashioned two sledges; one pulled by belts buckled together, and the other by the spider wire from her winch. She braided it in a fashion to thicken it and keep it from cutting into the puller’s skin. After wrapping the boy and the still unconscious old woman in the blankets, the rest of them each donned their furs and took turns pulling the two sledges through the knee-deep snow. The azure sky had cleared and was cloudless save the vapor of their breaths as they trudged forward. Sunlight reflected from the white snow, keeping their walk blind.
With the load they carried, what had taken four hours to hike up took five to hike down. Rupert had trudged ahead a bit, playing the duty of scout. When they neared the bottom, he rushed back, a look of grim determination on his set face. “Captain. A small detachment of soldiers has arrived at the inn. They were in brown coats. If I’d had my spyglass, I would have been able to tell if they were the rest of or squad or another. How do you suggest we proceed?”
Grant slowed to a stop, the young baron asleep on the sledge he pulled. He had let no other pull the small child under the pretext that he did not tire and the baron was not heavy. “Let us assume it is the rest of our men and continue. Harry could be trusted to track us here.”
“Aye, Captain.” Rupert nodded.
“Either way, trudge ahead to the inn and enter alone. Scout it out.”
“Yes, Captain.” He turned on his heel and jogged ahead again.
The inn came into view, its black skin like a hole in the white backdrop. From this distance, they could spy Rupert as he reached the building. Raven couldn’t help the tension she felt in her muscles. Was not the guards’ original order to recover the boy and kill the reaper? Her jaw set. She’d like to see them try.
They rested and watched until Rupert came back out. He motioned for them to continue and started to hike back toward them. When he met up them, he smiled cautiously. “Captain, it is two of our men, Bradley and Harry.”
“Excellent. What news?”
“They delivered Jasper Hollow to the hospital in New Haven, where they discovered a grave development.” His face became downcast for a moment. “Baron Solomon is on his death bed. They expect him to be gone in very little time. The duke is desperate to have his second son back.”
The solemn news caused a ripple of relief through the party.
Colton smiled. “So the boy is safe and will not be executed.”
“That’s the understanding.” Rupert's eyes fixed on Raven and Monroe, and he nodded. “There is no longer any order concerning the reaper.”
Grant clapped Rupert on the shoulder. “Though Solomon’s illness makes us sober, the rest is all excellent news. Have they brought enough horses for the whole group?”
“No, sir. However, the same coachman who brought us here has been stuck at the inn for the blizzard as well. I’d wager we could coax him into taking us to the train tomorrow morning.”
“Good idea.” Captain Grant smiled and stretched out. “Let’s get some good, warm food in the young baron and see if that bolsters him.”
When they reached the inn and began to untie the Wood Witch from her pallet, they found that she had died in the journey. Raven felt sick to her stomach. Had the old woman died because of the chemicals in Raven’s hair stick? Would this be yet another life she’d need to redeem?
Monroe approached and laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault. This was a natural course and one the woman chose for herself. You cannot accept blame for this. There is nothing to redeem.”
How had her uncle read her mind? She nodded. He was right. The woman’s course of action caused her health to fail. Monroe nodded and bent over the body.
Raven cleared her throat. “Will the innkeeper allow us to bury her here?”
Grant stiffened and shook his head, his eyes darting quickly away. “We’ll be fashioning these sleds into a box and taking the body with us as evidence.”
Raven shuddered. They’d be travelling with the remains of the Wood Witch. Marietta sidled up to her and placed an unwelcome arm around Raven’s shoulders. The redheaded witch’s voice lilted an
d a smirk crooked on her lips. “It’s for the best. This area is too close to the enchanted mountain. We wouldn’t want her rising from the dead now, would we?”
***
Although his sleep was broken by his middle watch, Jack woke fresh from the best night of sleep he’d had in a month. The stress of hunting down the baron had taken its toll on him. He shared a room at the inn with both Colton and Rupert. Baron Darius lay upon one of the beds in the room as well. He’d not let the boy out of his sight again.
The boy’s fever still hadn’t broken. He tossed and turned a bit through the night, and the guardsman who kept watch also had to replace his blankets when he kicked them from him. He still slept though all three guardsmen were up and gathering their things.
Downstairs, the three of them met up with the two other guardsmen and the two reapers. Raven had donned a simple periwinkle travelling dress again, and her hair had been pinned up without the use of the glass sticks. A few strands were too short to be pulled up into her bun and curled against the creamy skin at the back of her neck. His heart fluttered and lightened, but he immediately swallowed it back down.
She looked once more like a lady, but certainly she was unlike any other lady he had ever known. And she affected him more than he had realized before. He felt lighter when he looked on her, and until that moment, he had not noticed how the heaviness of leaving her behind had weighed on him.
Where had she even gotten the dress?
When Raven met eyes with him, she gave a cordial nod and approached him. “Good morning, Captain Grant. What time this morning will we be leaving for the train?”
Her voice had a formal edge that it had not had in the past. For a moment he stood confused, disappointment weighing on him. But he stood straighter and returned her address in kind. “I suppose the cab will be taking us to the Ipswich station after a short breakfast. Would you be joining us for the journey to New Haven?”
She nodded. “Yes. I intend to keep my charge until the end of this journey. I want to be certain the duke means him no harm before I release him into his care.”
Jack bristled. “I assure you, the duke is an honest man and…”
The icy look in Raven’s eyes made him falter. She narrowed them. “A man in power is often willing to compromise his character to satisfy his whims. When you make the law, you may find little reason to abide by them.”
Jack’s breath hitched, and he was glad Rupert had not heard the woman. “The duke’s integrity would keep him from such a thing.”
“How could a man of integrity decide to execute his son one moment and then pardon him the next?” She stepped toward him and spoke through her teeth. “Darius is his son. Yet, he tossed the boy aside when his heir was well enough to stand, but now that Solomon is bedridden—on a whim—the duke remembers he loves Darius enough to spare him?”
Heat rushed to Jack’s face along with his fury. How dare she speak about the duke in such a manner? He opened his mouth to chastise her when Colton came whistling down the stairs. Rupert stepped close behind, carrying the young baron. The other two guardsmen followed them.
Jack swallowed his retort. Instead he said, “As long as you are travelling with us, we will remain in armistice. But if you speak ill once more of him, I’ll break this alliance and arrest you.”
With an indignant look toward the guard on the stairs, Raven gave a curt nod and headed for a table already occupied by Monroe and Marietta. The older woman patted the single empty seat next to her when Colton passed, but he bowed his head affably and continued to the larger banquet table near the door where the guardsmen chose to sit. Darius awoke enough to sit in a chair and pick at some food on his plate. The young baron kept glancing around him.
“Are you okay, Darius?” Jack asked.
The boy fixed his watery gaze on him and shook his head. His voice cracked barely above a whisper. “Where is Nikki? And Raven?”
A chair scraped at the table a bit a way. Raven approached the young baron and knelt beside his chair. “I’m here, Darius. I promise not to be too far. And we’ll join up with Nikki before we get on the train. She’s with a friend of Monroe’s.”
Relief washed over the young baron, and he threw his arms around Raven’s neck. Silence settled over the rest of the table. Even Harry and Bradley had stopped their incessant chatter. Raven stood, the boy still clinging to her and returned to her table. Rupert began to go after her, but Jack shook his head slightly when they met each other’s eyes. What harm would it do? Obviously, the boy had developed a bond with the woman reaper that would not be easily severed.
Marietta had moved to the side with Monroe, and the young baron sat in the chair next to Raven. Jack had to admit that the boy looked more lively sitting with her.
As they ate quickly, Jack found his gaze continually drawn in the direction of Raven and the baron. Sometimes the woman could be so tender and other times she was infuriating. Friend or foe? Which would she prove to be?
Trust must be earned and not freely given.
Alliances are always tenuous until they are broken. Never rush into friendship.
WHEN THE TRAIN pulled to a stop at New Haven, Raven’s heart pumped adrenaline through her veins at an alarming rate. All her senses were on high alert. The station seemed ordinary enough. People checked all of the windows for their loved ones to arrive. No additional guardsman stood under the overhanging red canopy.
Darius gripped her hand weakly, but he refused to let go even as he’d slept. She pulled her fingers from his grasp gently, and it woke him.
She smiled as well as she could. “We’re here. I’ll carry you if you’d like.”
The boy nodded. He wrapped his arms around her neck and put his legs around her waist, resting them on her hips. He was heavier than a sack of grain from the farm, but less awkward. She didn’t need to launch him over a shoulder, but instead he clung to her again like one of the spider monkeys she’d seen once at the carnival. The memory of the aroma of cotton candy and popcorn wafted through her brain, tickling her nose so that she nearly sneezed.
Darius’s warmth against her body comforted her, and she wondered if he could feel her heartbeat through his chest. His own beat weakly through hers. Were the bones on her corset uncomfortable for him? If so, he did not complain. Regardless, she felt vulnerable in this position. It would be difficult to do battle should the need arise. Truthfully however, the comfort he afforded her, and she seemed to afford him, was worth it. The young baron would be willing to be put down if necessary.
“Do you need help with him?” Captain Grant offered a hand before they reached the end of the train’s aisle. His brown eyes were soft and pleading, almost apologetic.
Raven’s spine stiffened. She shook her head and averted her gaze. He was nothing more than a lackey. Kill at the duke’s command—save at his command as well. Do not question his reasons or motivations, even if they should change. The very idea was repugnant, and this whole course of events felt erroneous.
Carefully, she descended the steps from the train car to the platform. The vision from her right eye was blocked by Darius’s wild, dark curls, his head buried in her neck and shoulder. They tickled her ear as she turned to scan both directions for potential problems. Monroe approached with Nikki straining against the leather leash.
Raven smiled. “Darius. Nikki is here.”
Darius released his spider monkey hold and slid from her grasp. He pulled the caramel-coated Great Dane into a hug similar to the one he’d held on Raven. Monroe gestured with his eyes. She looked the direction he indicated.
Four new guardsmen approached, accompanying the same bow-tie clad man who had been with Darius the first time she’d met him. The tutor. Reginald. The man moved stiffly, his long fingers fluttering to his tie. Raven’s own fingers twitched with the desire to hold her sword or crossbow. But the only weapon she held at present was a dagger in her garter. It would make quick work of one of them, but simple hand to hand combat afterword might leave her r
elying too much on Monroe.
Reginald cleared his throat, and Darius stiffened in response.
“Young Baron, please do not lower yourself to the level of a mere animal. Keep stance with your station.”
Raven’s jaw clicked when she tightened it and watched as the young boy rose up and held himself as a baron once more. Except for the red overalls and common linen shirt, his stance reminded everyone of the noble he was. Still, one hand remained on the top of Nikki’s head as though riveted to the spot.
The four new guardsmen spread out in a semi-circle and drew their weapons. Raven curled her lip in a sneer, and her fingers moved unconsciously to her thigh. A hand touched her shoulder. She stiffened and met eyes with Captain Grant, who shook his head slightly and eyed the other guardsmen. He motioned with his hand and the new guardsmen replaced their pistols.
His breath whispered against her ear and every hair on the back of her neck stood on end. “There’s no need to fight. We’re all on the same side.”
Gooseflesh rose on her arms, but she shook off his hand and pulled away. As much as she wanted to believe what Grant had said, she couldn’t. She’d spent too much of her life seeing the Duke’s Guard as her enemy and couldn’t shrug off the weight of this situation. Something just didn’t sit well with her.
Monroe drew up to her side. His wide blue eyes told her she wasn’t alone in this inability. His hands were hidden beneath his ragged coat. Certainly they caressed the hilts of his weapons.
The tutor prattled in his high-pitched, nasal way. “Where did you get these awful clothes? I declare you’ve lost weight while you were…away. Did they feed you? You’re flushed. Do you feel well, young sir?” The very sound of his voice seemed both accusing and reprimanding at the same time. Tutor and caretaker—that was what Darius had called him, right?
Even though Raven could tell he cared, he also seemed to spend more time criticizing than actually helping. She wondered if that was his method of teaching as well. The man seemed to want to take the place of Darius’s long-lost mother, but lacked the love and emotion behind the words.
Creeden, Pauline - [Chronicles of Steele - Raven] - Episode 4 Page 1
