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Against the Reign

Page 11

by Dove Winters


  “For me as well. Liam has told me so much about you.” She smiles softly and I hope she can’t see that I’m blushing.

  “Hopefully good things,” I say.

  “Many good things. He spoke of your beauty, but I was not sure he knew what he was talking about until I saw you at the wedding.” Her eyes sadden. “I was at the wedding of your parents. They were so very young, and you remind me of your mother. Our husbands did not always see eye-to-eye, but I was very fond of Carlee. She was an intelligent woman and kind. It is a shame what happened.” I nod, but don’t speak. She sighs. “I find comfort in that Liam is now married. I don’t want to be queen anymore. I’m so weak, I can’t even face the people. They need someone to look at and follow. You and Liam together will give them what they need.”

  “I hope I can live up to your expectations,” I say quietly. All the old doubts begin to filter back in when I think of taking the throne.

  “I know of your past, Virginia. Not every path is smooth and easy. Every mistake you make is a lesson to learn and a chance to grow. If you apply it, that is. The choice is yours.” The hand I hold squeezes mine and I cover it with my other hand.

  “I will do my best, Your Majesty. That is all I can offer.”

  “It is all anyone can offer. And I know you will.”

  The door opens again and Liam enters with two other men and a maid. The maid hurries to the queen’s bedside to wait on her and I stand to join Liam.

  “These men will be outside your door from now on. Call on them if you feel you’re in danger,” Liam says. Both men bow.

  “Oh, Son, nothing is going to happen to me,” the queen says.

  “Too much is happening now for me to take that chance.” Liam looks at the maid. “Take care of her.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  Liam plants a kiss on his mother’s cheek and ushers me from the room. We head back down the corridor in a rush to find Ward. I see through a window we pass that the sky is lightening.

  “Did your mother hear that we had been killed?” I ask as we walk.

  “Yes, but she says she knew in her heart it wasn’t true. Something about a mother’s bond with her children.”

  “It’s good that you saw her then, to reassure her. If the rumor in the castle is we’re dead, then Ulric won’t be expecting us.”

  “Exactly.” Liam takes my hand and we hurry on.

  We’re passing another window when I stop and point.

  “What is that?” I ask. There’s a small courtyard below us. A man dressed all in black is sharpening a very large axe.

  “They’re getting ready to do an execution,” Liam says, his brow scrunched together with concern. “Public executions are done in town, but private ones are done here.”

  “Vian?” I say, panic rising.

  But the door below opens and a guard walks into the courtyard dragging a struggling prisoner still wearing a maid’s dress.

  “It’s Ward!” I yell, not caring how loud I am. “How do we get down there?”

  “Follow me!” Liam runs down another flight of stairs with me at his heels. My heart beats with every footfall; I can barely breathe, but I push on as we run. We have to take a slight detour when Liam spots too many guards on one floor and my chest tightens with panic. When we finally reach the courtyard, the only thing I can hear is my blood pumping in my ears and the ting of my blade as I draw my sword.

  Twenty-three

  There is no planning or strategy as we rush out into the open. The courtyard isn’t that big, not really a place we could sneak into. When we rush out, the first thing I see is the raised axe. Ward is struggling against two guards that are attempting to hold him in place against the block. One of them lands a blow to Ward’s stomach while the other shoves his head down into the crevice so that his neck is arched upwards and exposed. The axe is just falling when Liam’s blade meets it, pushing it to the side so that it lands on the ground in front of Ward’s face.

  The other two guards drop Ward and draw their swords in time to meet mine. Ward stands and I shout at him to stay behind me while I frantically swing. There’s a wooden stick on the ground, something that appears to be an old axe handle, and I manage to grab it to deflect the second blade coming at me while fighting with the first. I glance back at Liam. He’s got his hands full with the executioner; the man dressed in black is twice Liam’s size. As I watch, he swings the axe and almost beheads Liam, who barely jumps out of the way in time.

  “Go help him!” I shout to Ward, though I’m unsure how he can with his hands still tied. But he does, scurrying quickly up to the large man and jumping onto his back. He throws his arms around the man’s neck and begins to squeeze, choking the air from him. The executioner swings his axe over his head several times, Ward ducking his head down to avoid the blade. When he can’t shake Ward from his back, he drops the axe and begins clawing at Ward’s hands for relief.

  Meanwhile, I run to a pile of firewood stacked in the corner and jump onto it, gaining some height over my two opponents. One swings at my feet and I kick a piece of wood at him. That must give him an idea, because he begins pushing other pieces out of the pile, and I feel the wood below me wobble as the pile breaks. I leap off as the wood tumbles down, landing on the second guard. His sword falls from his hand, and I put myself between him and his fallen sword so he can’t retrieve it. Ward has the executioner on his knees, and Liam takes over fighting the other guard.

  My guard is now unarmed, but he grabs a piece of the firewood and uses it to defend himself against my blade. One swing lands a deep cut into the wood, and when I try to yank it back, it holds, stuck. He lifts the wood with my sword, jerking the sword from my hand, and tosses them both away. I think to go after his fallen sword, which is behind me, but the man takes a swing at me with his fist. I dodge under it, grab his shirt, and knee him hard in the groin, successfully ending the fight. He goes down at the same time as the executioner, who lands with a loud thud. Liam has the other guard on his knees, unarmed and bleeding from the leg. The fight is over.

  I find my sword still in the wood and work it out. Ward follows me so I can cut the ropes off his hands and free him. I start to say something when the door bursts open. We tense up, ready to fight, but then relax; it’s Borin and his band. Newrock’s soldiers immediately take charge and bind the Etigan guards. With that taken care of, I turn to Ward, drop my sword, and pull him into a fierce embrace.

  “Thank the heavens you’re alright!” I cry. I feel his hands tentatively pat my back. I know he’s not used to such outward showings of affection from me, but I’m so glad to see him that I don’t care.

  “I’m okay, really,” he says. “I was just about to unleash some serious pain on those guards and get away, you know? But then you came around and I thought, well, let them feel like the heroes. They’ll like that.”

  I pull back and cock my head at him. Liam is beside me and he crosses his arms, his mouth twisting.

  “So that’s how it was, was it?”

  “Well, that’s how I’m going to tell it. It’s your word against mine,” Ward says. Liam shakes his head and I smile.

  “Your Majesty, we were able to get into the dungeon easily for one reason: it’s empty. King Ulric has taken Vian and left for Newrock,” Borin tells me.

  “He’s going to take over the castle and claim the kingdom,” I say.

  “We have to stop him. As of yet, he doesn’t know we’re still alive,” Liam says.

  “Then let’s go before word gets to him.” I sheath my sword. Ward pulls off the dress and throws it aside. Someone in Borin’s group provides him a shirt and he puts it on and picks up one of the swords from the captured guards. We head out.

  We race through the castle to the main entrance; it’s strangely quiet and deserted. But there’s no time to dwell on it; we need to get back to our horses and get to Newrock as fast as possible. But outside the castle, we all stop dead. A whole army of Etigan soldiers is standing inside the castle walls
, obviously preparing for a battle. And they’ve seen us.

  “It’s Prince Liam!” someone from the crowd yells. Swords are drawn and archers train their bows on us. We have nowhere to go.

  “Liam! What do we do?” I ask through a whispered breath. We’re not fighting our way out of this one.

  His sword already drawn, I watch in alarm as Liam raises it and steps forward.

  “I speak to each of you now,” Liam’s voice takes on that kingly quality again and he speaks loudly and clearly. “You served my father until the day he was cut down. You served him with loyalty and respect. But now, when his son is threatened and left to die by the hand of the reigning king regent, you turn your swords on him! King Ulric sent me and my wife to die in that God-forsaken carriage, and I would stake my life on that he also was responsible for my father’s death. Believe what you will for now. But if I live, I will find proof of my claims and you will see that I’m right. This is my throne and Ulric has stolen it! Will he also steal your loyalty?” I hear emotion creep into Liam’s voice. This speech is no mere attempt at saving us; he’s speaking from his heart. “If any of you wish to side with Ulric, then I will face you, man to men, and I will see that you are cut down and laid to rest beside him when the time comes. Otherwise, I beg of you, leave your minds open. Let us go free so we can figure out who murdered my father and bring his killer to justice.”

  Quiet murmurings go through the crowd. The captains seem uncertain as to how to proceed. We wait for several tense seconds for someone to drop the ball and start a fight I’m sure we’ll lose. A tall man with a bow steps first from the crowd and drops to his knee before us.

  “Long live King Declan and may he rest in peace!” the man shouts, his fist thumping his chest over his heart.

  From the other side of the crowd another man drops down and yells out the same. Two of the captains dismount from their horses and do the same. Soon, only a handful of men are left standing; the rest have just sworn their allegiance to Liam. I glance at his face and can see that there are tears in his eyes. I take his hand; he doesn’t look at me, but I feel him squeeze it.

  The men who don’t bow are quickly rounded up and taken away. One of the captains jogs over to us and bows again.

  “What do you need, Prince Liam?” he asks.

  “What are your orders?” Liam asks.

  “We are gathering our supplies here, then marching to Newrock. Other bands have already been dispatched to the borders. Apparently, bands from Windem are surrounding us as we speak,” he explains.

  “Get ready and head to the river. Stay there and wait, and if Ulric tries to get back into Etigan, don’t let him. Get your fastest messengers and send a message to those bands from Windem. Tell them that Ulric is about to fall and war is not necessary. Tell them I will meet with the king of Windem myself if it pleases him. Get that message through fast! We don’t have time to waste.” Liam waves a hand and the captain hurries away. We run through the castle yard and out into town, away from the commotion, relief flooding through me that we didn’t have to fight. Still, I can’t help but wonder.

  As we run I ask him, “What if Ulric doesn’t fall? What if we fail?”

  Liam looks at me with a look so serious it sends a chill down my spine. “If we fail, we’ll be dead, and we won’t have to worry about it.”

  Twenty-four

  We travel away from the road to avoid being seen. With Liam’s men planning to seal the border of Etigan, it is now up to us to find Ulric in Newrock and stop him. It won’t be hard; I know he’s heading to the castle. It will just be a matter of getting through his armies. Liam was able to convince the men to follow him when Ulric wasn’t around, but who would they choose to follow in Ulric’s presence?

  We make it to Thumbstole and head to the alley. I’m surprised to see how deserted the town looks. We head to the pub and find it empty. I find a bottle of mead and down some, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and handing the bottle to Liam.

  “Where do you suppose everyone is?” I ask.

  “They’re being herded like cattle to Benakarsa.” A voice in the doorway causes us all to yank out our weapons. I raise mine higher when I see who’s there.

  “Hassal!” I exclaim, eyeing him and his two friends. “Who let you out of the stocks?”

  “They let me out after you left,” he says with a chuckle. He struts into the pub and snatches the bottle from my hands, tilting it to his lips with a smile. When he tries to hand it back I knock it to the ground.

  “It’s tainted now.” I cringe. He laughs and picks it up.

  “So, I heard you were dead. Kinda surprised to see you. Though it wouldn’t surprise me if your ghost decided to haunt this pub for all eternity.” Hassal takes a seat at one of the tables and swigs his mead. His friends hang close to the door as if acting as lookouts.

  “How did you hear that?” Liam asks.

  “Rumors are spreading like wild fire around here. Etigan guards swept through town and demanded people go to Benakarsa for an announcement. Rumor has it Newrock has fallen to King Ulric.” Hassal swigs again.

  “He’s going to gather as many people as he can to hear him announce his ownership of Newrock,” I say.

  “When is he making the announcement?” Borin asks.

  “This evening before the sun sets,” Hassal says with an unsavory belch. He raises the bottle to his lips and I knock it out of his hands again. He watches it go then draws his dagger. “Hey!”

  “We have gold for the pub owner. Were you going to pay for that?” I say. He sticks his dagger into the table. “Why are you here, anyway? Why didn’t you go to Benakarsa?”

  “I didn’t feel like it. Too many bad memories,” Hassal sneers.

  I turn to Borin. “Where do you suppose Rayner is?”

  “He should be following Ulric and Vian,” he says.

  “Then hopefully we can rendezvous with him at the castle. But how will we get past the soldiers? Ulric is sure to be well-protected and there aren’t enough of us. Ferrant scattered our armies to the winds, so I don’t know how many of us there will be to fight.” I put a hand to my temple and rub it hard. Ward hands me his bottle of mead and I take another drink.

  “Could you use a battering ram?” Hassal asks without looking up from the table where he’s carving a picture with his dagger.

  “We don’t have a battering ram,” I say.

  “I do.” He continues to draw.

  “Where? And why?” Ward asks.

  “Not really. I mean it’s a fallen tree. But same difference.” Hassal glances up to see if we’re interested.

  “We might need it to get into the castle, if we have enough people to carry it,” Liam says.

  “Again, I can manage.” Hassal pulls himself up and sets off from the pub. Frowning to Liam, I follow, the others right behind me. We follow Hassal to the outskirts of town to an old barn that looks like it might collapse at any moment. He leads us around to the back where a small fire is burning. A group of maybe thirty men and women mingle around it. They’re all field workers, like Hassal, and I recognize many from my nights in the alley. When they see us, many shout out their greetings.

  “I think if we all gather together we could do it,” Borin says, nodding as he looks around the group.

  “It’s possible.” I look around, then raise my voice. “Can everyone here wield a weapon?”

  Most of them answer with a yes, a few shrugging or shaking their heads.

  “Would you to save your kingdom?” I ask, hoping I sound like Liam did when he addressed his soldiers. Although the group I’m addressing is far less intimidating to stand in front of. This time I get a lot more yeses. My voice drops an octave. “Even for a queen that’s pretty much messed everything up?”

  One of the young women sitting by the fire stands. I remember her; Liam kissed her hand the last time I saw him at the pub. She often would dance with Ward when we were there. Rose is her name. “We’re here for you, Ginny!” she cries, ho
lding up a mug she is drinking from. The response from the others is agreeable. It suddenly dawns on me that I’m not standing in front of a group of soldiers that I barely know. These are my friends. They accepted me when I was a troubled princess and they’re accepting me now.

  We decide to wait until it’s closer to time for Ulric to make his announcement to get to Benakarsa. He’ll be out in the open then and an easier target. In the meantime, we eat some bread and meat the people offer us. More mead is passed around, and I’m grateful for its soothing familiarity. I’m getting up to find Liam when I bump into Hassal again.

  “I guess I should thank you. This is a big help,” I say uncomfortably.

  “I’m not doing this for you. Don’t for a minute think any of this has to do with you. I love my kingdom.” Hassal pounds his chest and is slurring his words. “I would rather die than see Newrock fall to Etigan. But I tell you now, Princess,” he says with his usual sneer, “I will spit on the ground every day that you sit on the throne. You are no more worthy to be queen than I am.”

  “And you are no more worthy of my mercy than an insect that I crush in the palm of my hand.” Liam appears and grabs Hassal by his shirt, their faces so close I’m sure they’re sharing a breath. “Should I ever see you spit in my wife’s direction, I will punish you personally and painfully. Now get your weapons together and lay off the mead!” Liam gives him a rough shove and Hassal stumbles away, but with a hearty laugh as he does. Liam grunts. “He doesn’t take anything seriously, does he?”

  “It’s not worth thinking about. He may be awful, but he’s helping us right now.” I shake my head to clear it of Hassal’s voice. “What are you doing?”

  “I was looking for you. Come with me.” Liam takes my hand and leads me from the group. I follow him along a path through the trees and down to a spot on the river. Along the riverbank, in a grove of trees, we leave the noise of the camp behind us and it grows refreshingly quiet. I lean back against a sturdy tree and watch an old branch float down the river.

 

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