Schemes

by Krista D. Ball

  “Most knights are loyal to me,” Bethany insisted.

  “Jud’s focusing on knights who were agitating against your demotion. Some were arrested, but most were sent to remote posts.”

  “He’s expecting a fight,” Bethany said. “Oh shit. He’s planning a coup.”

  “Bethany, that makes no sense,” Lendra interrupted. “He’s already in charge.”

  Bethany shrugged. “I don’t know what he’s planning. I’ve not spoken to him. In fact, the couple of times he saw me at your hearing in Wyllow, he purposely avoided me.”

  Myra frowned. “Right, because you might have figured out what was going on. But the Elven Council must see this, too? If we’ve figured it out, then surely someone there has as well.”

  “I don’t think they care. All I can piece together is that this all comes from when you killed Sarissa in the abbey.” Myra sucked in a breath. “When you killed Sarissa, something happened. Now, I know you’re lying—all of you have been lying, I know that—and I don’t care, but I...look, Lady Bethany? People are still talking about that day. They’re all talking about the Blessed Blades and Apexia’s grace. And you are going to take the fall for it.” She glanced at Lendra. “Both of you.”

  Bethany knew this would happen. She’d warned the others, too, when they said to hide all of their new, true natures from the world for as long as possible. She understood all too well the desire to hide; she’d done it for a century herself. But she was simply born and the truth hidden away.

  The death of Apexia was not a quiet affair. Her blessing and grace was removed from the world and, with it, the very power that made the Silver Knights the beacon of hope against Magic. Magic was gone, too, though the world didn’t know that. Who would believe the Gentle Goddess was the tether that held Magic in this world? Who would believe their goddess whom they’d worshipped and aspired to had once been a brutal murderer?

  So, Bethany lied. She did it to protect her mother’s memory, to preserve what little freedom her friends had left, and to give them all a little more time to come to grips with this new world they had accidently created. She knew, one day, they would have to step out of the shadows. She hoped it would be centuries from now, but more and more she was convinced they were counting time in days now, not centuries.

  “I can’t tell you what happened, Myra,” Bethany said finally.

  “I don’t want to know,” Myra admitted.

  A flash of steel plunging through her mother’s neck. So much blood. Warm and sticky. Falling. Falling. Falling to the floor. Sinking. A limp form in her arms. Tears. Pain. She was glad her Blessed Blades turned to shattered steel. She could have never used them again after that.

  “You really don’t,” Bethany said quietly.

  “You are both in so much trouble, though,” Myra said. “They are coming for you and they won’t stop.”

  “They? You mean the council?” Lendra asked.

  “The council, the clergy, the Black Hand, the knights, everyone is coming for you.” Myra’s voice turned strained. “They know something happened with Apexia, and they blame you, Bethany.”

  “Well. Fuck.”

  Chapter 3

  A good two hours passed before they were organized enough to relax. Eventually, carriages and cargo were stowed away, sentries posted, and food distributed. Darien supervised the set up under Bethany’s watchful eye. She stood back and mostly kept silent, though she called Darien over several times to give him instructions or assistance.

  The apprentices squabbled as they backed the wagon carrying gold and gifts for the Imperial Palace into the stable. Some items had shifted from the removed baggage and they’d improperly strapped down the remaining cargo. The horses weren’t cooperating, no surprise since Darien grew more and more exasperated with how difficult this was and lost his temper several times.

  Bethany leaned against the building with her arms folded and didn’t interfere. She was still working through the information she’d gleaned from Darien and Myra. She didn’t know quite what to make of it all yet, but she didn’t like the various possible conclusions she’d drawn.

  But this? This was familiar. She’d always been good at training. She was tough, but fair. This poor lot had never been taught correctly. They’d been taught being a Silver Knight was nothing more than shiny breastplates and mindless obedience. They were never taught what duty actually looked like. They weren’t taught useful skills, like how to back tired, cranky horses into a stable. They weren’t taught to seek out non-elves for help, even if it was just to help them with some horses.

  “Apprentice Knight Bethany,” Darien finally said, throwing his hands up. “Would you please help us?”

  Bethany quirked a smile and said, as deadpan and dryly as she could manage, “Just ask the stable boys for help. They’ve been standing right there this entire time.”

  Darien’s cheeks, already reddened from his exertions, flushed crimson, and he gave her a jerky nod of his head. He turned to the stable boys, who’d been watching the entire time laughing and waiting for permission to assist them. They made bit of a scene of it, but gave them a hand by first instructing them to either tie the trunks down or to remove them, since the falling boxes and bags were frightening the horses.

  Bethany ducked back inside the inn to join Lendra. She wasn’t alone; there were two of the apprentices assigned first watch to look after the upper rooms. Still, she would feel better being with Lendra. Bethany knew she’d eventually have to let Lendra live her own life. Her sister was already beginning to chafe against Bethany’s protective watch. She promised to step back once Lendra was safe and surrounded by well-trained, trustworthy royal guards.

  Bethany accepted a plate of food from the servant inside, along with another mug of black tea. This would be her fifth tea in the last hour and her hands were already jittery from the beverage’s after effects. Still, she wasn’t in the mood to sleep, so the tea would see to that aim.

  Eventually, the tea wore off. Bethany didn’t sleep so much as drift off occasionally. The room was dark, save for a couple of candles burning near Myra and Lanessa, who’d taken over the next watch. The rest were downstairs drinking and eating, so the two giggling girls were sitting on the bed across from where Bethany rested.

  Bethany didn’t speak or let them know she was awake. She simply lay there on the floor, a pillow wedged under her head, and listened to the two young girls talk about boys. Lanessa was older than Myra, and was just coming into her own feelings about boys and the many and varied things she wanted to do with them. Myra was still a touch too young for that curiosity, but Bethany had noticed her questions were showing a growing interest in the subject.

  Bethany smiled to herself. She remembered when the urges to look at the opposite sex first came over her. Jovan was the only living person who knew where she’d directed her first blush, and she was eternally grateful for that. Jovan was a loudmouth, but there were some secrets even he could keep.

  Lendra rolled over on to her back and one of her arms slumped across Bethany’s chest. Patiently, she put her sister’s arm back on her side of the floor, and went back to eavesdropping. She didn’t trust sleeping in bed tonight, and made Lendra sleep on the floor with her. They stuffed the bed with blankets and hay. If the bandits returned, the arrows might hail through the room. Bethany wanted Lendra out of sight.

  Only Myra and Lanessa knew about the arrangement; they’d organized it when the others were downstairs drinking. What had the world come to when she couldn’t trust knights. Of course, they hadn’t needed to fight against her, or have her fight on their side. She assured herself that, if circumstances allowed, they would abandon their single-minded dedication to Lord Jud’s orders and come around to her way of things. The desire to keep breathing did that to a person.

  The girls chattered on and Bethany listened to the gossip, connecting the dots between the news Myra was dropping. After about an hour of this, it dawned on Bethany that Myra knew she was awake and was
purposely feeding this information out for her benefit. Lanessa didn’t even know the people involved in most of Myra’s stories. But Bethany did. And while hearing all about Lord Jud’s third cousin’s chest hair and crotch bulge was no doubt for Lanessa’s benefit, the information about Ero purchasing an estate just outside of elven influence was not.

  That gave Bethany pause. Full-blooded elves rarely moved beyond elven borders. If they did, they went to Ellentop. Rarely did they purposely choose to live in human territory. Bethany had never met Ero, but she knew of him. He was a hardliner, who believed elves for elves, and was against even Elorians being raised within elven borders. If it had been up to him, Elorians who were raised by elves and lived in elven lands wouldn’t be recognized as citizens. They’d be cut off from their share of the wealth, and barred from serving in any upper rank of the clergy or the knights.

  So why would one of the most conservative elves move to human lands? Something to hide perhaps? A way to move without the eyes of the Council on him? She’d look into that when she had a chance. Once they were at the Imperial Palace, she’d find a way to get Myra alone and pump all of the information out of her that she could.

  “I’m so drunk,” a young, masculine voice said, as footsteps stomped up the stairs. Malachi, she thought his name was. She didn’t want to lift her head up to confirm.

  “I know, right?” said another voice. Darien, she was certain. “We’re not allowed to drink in Wyllow, not even in our off-hours. We get watered-down beer and that’s it. Lord Jud’s orders.”

  “You’d think they’d let you unwind. A soldier deserves a stiff drink, don’t they?” Malachi said.

  “I agree!” Darien shouted.

  “Shut up,” Myra whispered. “You’ll wake Bethany and Lendra.”

  “Shut up yourself, you half-breed whore,” Malachi said. “No one asked you.”

  “What did you just call me, Apprentice?” Myra demanded.

  “A half-breed Rygent whore. The other half-breeds aren’t awake, so I can call you whatever I want.”

  “Give...stop...” Darien slurred, stumbling over his words. “I’m in charge here and...I...that’s not nice.”

  Bethany rolled her eyes, even as she reached for her sword that rested on the floor next to her. Light flickered as steps approached them. She caught a glimpse of Malachi’s sneering face, a lantern held up, directed at the bed where the lumpy “bodies” rested. He glanced over at the bed before turning back to Myra. She doubted he saw her. She leaned back down to the floor and shook Lendra gently.

  “We’re real elves,” Malachi said, sneering at Myra. “She’s just here because of her parents. Her whore of a mother—”

  “Apprentice Knight Malachi!” Darien shouted, even if his words were still slurred. “Apologize. There is...no room for...that here.”

  “Apologize or I will wake Lady Bethany and you can repeat it to her face,” Myra shouted.

  Bethany pressed her hands against the floor, ready to push herself up.

  “I’ll save you the trouble,” Malachi said and tossed his lantern on to Bethany’s bed.

  Flames licked the bed and hay. Lendra shrieked and tried to move a dozen different directions away from the burning bed. Bethany kicked the bed away with her booted feet and moved the corner several inches away from Lendra, who continued to scream even as she crawled on her hands and knees away from the fire.

  Then a lot of things happened at once. Bethany rushed Malachi and shoved him with all of her strength. Lanessa and Darien grabbed blankets to beat out the fire. Lendra shrieked when her dress caught aflame and Myra dove onto her to smother the fire.

  Malachi pulled a dagger from somewhere and held it up. Bethany gave him an unimpressed look. “Get down on the floor or I’ll kill you.”

  “I’m going to die either way,” he said and slashed at her.

  “Bethany!” Myra exclaimed.

  Bethany dodged two swings by Malachi before she could intervene. She grappled with him until she knocked the dagger out of his untrained hand. For good measure, she threw him to the floor and kicked him hard in the ribs. The floor’s hay was on fire now and Darien and Lanessa were desperately stomping out any flickering flames. Bethany kicked both Malachi and any flames that got too close.

  The smell of smoke and the terrified sounds of Lendra’s screams brought knights and servants stumbling up the stairs. Thick smoke greeted the new arrivals and Bethany shouted, “Open the shutters before we all die of inhalation!” Two sets of shutters were flung open to let in the night air.

  Malachi tried to pull himself away, but Bethany stomped down on his wrist until he screamed in agony as the fragile bones snapped under her blows. He curled in on himself, openly weeping from pain.

  “Lendra!” Bethany shouted as she stomped on more flames.

  “I’m fine,” Lendra replied, her voice wavering.

  One of the newcomers grabbed the pitcher of water at the front of the room meant for washing and hurled the contents on the dry hay. The other pitcher was utilized, and the fire sizzled and popped in protest. Puffs of black smoke rose up, choking everyone in the room.

  Darien collapsed to the floor, choking on the smoke from the bed. Bethany grabbed him by the boots and dragged him into the center of the room. She helped Lanessa put out the last of the flames on the bed and the others stomped out the last of the flames on the floor. Others were running for help and arriving with pots and even mugs of water in hopes of stopping the spread of the fire.

  Bethany coughed from the smoke, unable to take a deep breath. She held a hand over her mouth to help protect her lungs from the black poison, but it did no good.

  The wind was helping clear out the smoke, though, and Bethany stuck her head out of the window and inhaled deeply, before instructing the wide-eyed apprentices to get Darien to the window. Lanessa, Myra, and Lendra all managed to get there themselves. Bethany walked over to Malachi and kicked him again.

  He choked out, “I can’t breathe.”

  Bethany glared down at him. His smile was gone, now replaced with fear. “I don’t care. Why did you do it?”

  “Ordered,” Malachi said, coughing out the word.

  Bethany crouched down and grabbed the front of his tunic. She slammed his head against the smoky floor. “Whose orders? Jud’s?” Malachi shook his head and winced as she bounced his head off the floor once more. “Then whose? Tell me or I will bash your head.”

  “Bethany,” one of the younger knights said in a diffident voice. “What are you doing?”

  “Who?” Bethany shouted, ignoring the background chatter.

  She was dimly aware that all of the knights were gathered around her, as were several servants. Smoke still billowed. The fire wasn’t completely out yet.

  “Get that fire put out!” Bethany ordered. She turned back to Malachi and said in a gasping, rough voice. “Who ordered you to kill me?”

  Malachi choked. “Can’t say.”

  Bethany slammed him against the floor so hard this time that the floorboards cracked and groaned in protest. “Who!”

  Malachi’s eyes glazed over, but he held on to consciousness. “Black Hand. Orders.”

  Bethany stared at him in shock, before fury flooded her. She called him a liar and punched him several times in the face. None of the blows were strong enough to do much damage; the smoke had sucked much of her energy.

  “It’s the truth,” Malachi managed to say with his swollen mouth and jaw. His nose was bleeding, as was his lip. “Father Roc ordered us to kill you.”

  Bethany looked over her shoulder at a wheezing Myra. She was seated on the floor, gasping from the smoke and her exertions. “Any of this true?”

  Myra looked at Malachi and shrugged. “I’m tired...” She coughed some more. “Other than my work for Lord Kiner during the war, I’ve not worked with any Black Hand that I know of.”

  Bethany looked down at Malachi. His eyes were losing focus. “Was killing Lendra part of your orders?”

 
“No. She never leaves your side, but I saw my chance and took it. What are you going to do with me?”

  Several servants bullied their way into the room, along with Mrs. Oak, and doused the bed and floor with buckets of water. Mrs. Oak looked like she wanted to berate someone for this disaster, but one look at Bethany and the bleeding man under her was enough for the innkeeper to hold her tongue.

  “What are you going to do with me?” Malachi whispered.

  She wanted to kill him. Every part of her screamed to drag him outside and string him up as an example to those who dared cross her. The fire burned inside her and her hands began to shake. How dare he try to kill her? How dare he try to kill her sister? When she was done killing this insect, she would go to Wyllow and find Father Roc and...

  A firm hand touched her shoulder, and Lendra said, “Enough.”

  And, just like that, the rage died within her. Bethany closed her eyes and gave herself a ten-count to bring herself under control. It wasn’t long enough, so she did it several more times until, finally, she was ready to open her eyes again to face the man who’d tried to burn her alive.

  In a very low voice, Bethany said, “If this was a year ago, I would’ve killed you. But, we’re not at war right now and I will follow local custom.”

  “I’m not afraid of you,” Malachi said weakly.

  “Then why did you try burning me in my sleep when I couldn’t fight back? Why didn’t you have the bandits put a well-aimed arrow in my throat?” She narrowed her eyes. “Was the attack your doing?”

  Malachi shook his head weakly.

  “Are you telling me the truth?”

  He nodded. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  Bethany stood up, coughing into the back of her hand. The air was easier to breathe now, but her lungs still felt burnt from the heat and smoke. “You fool. You tried to kill the last two remaining daughters of Apexia.”