by K. M. Shea
Briar hadn’t known it, but as she uttered her last remarks, she had stood directly beneath the portrait of the Queen of Hearts. Her eyes, bright with passion, were almost mirror images of the purple eyes that stared out at the knights from the painting.
Sir Artemio swallowed as he stared up at the image. Although the Queen of Hearts was smiling, he could almost see her disappointment in the tilt of her lips.
His weapon—the legendary mace—slipped from his grasp. “What have we done?” he uttered.
Sir Roberto smiled and stepped down to join the legendary knights on the lowest level. “What indeed?”
Chapter 11
Crossing Carabosso
Briar filled Isaia in on the finer points of the plan as they made their hurried exit from the Magic Knights’ administrative building.
“So Lady Angelique will meet you at the stables?” Isaia asked.
“Yes. We have to leave as quickly as possible, or Grandfather will lock us all in Ciane.”
He nodded. “Very well. I will retrieve Valor and meet you at the royal stables.”
Briar wanted to say something—to thank him, to tell him how grateful she was—but the words wouldn’t come. He smiled at her, as if he understood her hesitation, and separated, striding for the stable of the Magic Knights.
Briar shook her head and returned her focus to the present matter. “I hope we’re able to make it out.”
Delanna chuckled. “Trust in your ladies-in-waiting. We’re much more wily than you would think.”
They clattered into the stables, almost running into Firra and Donaigh who were leading their mounts out.
“Lady Enchantress Angelique is behind the barn with her steed,” Donaigh said as he pulled himself up into the saddle. “We’ll wait there with her.”
“Thank you!” Briar called over her shoulder.
Lady Delanna hurried down the stable aisle. “Do you want the gelding you rode outside Ciane? Or there’s a sweet mare that’s got a fair amount of stamina.”
“Neither,” Briar said. “There’s one particular horse I want.”
“Your Highness!” Velvet, Silk, and Jewel tumbled into the stable, carrying what looked like table linens.
Jewel set her bundle down and flipped it open, revealing a plain dress. “We have the distraction.”
Briar blinked. “A gown?”
Velvet giggled and clasped her hands to her lips. “No, silly! One of us will dress up as you, and we’ll lead everyone away.”
Briar gaped at her ladies-in-waiting, surprised by their devious streak.
Silk winked. “Don’t worry, Your Highness. We’ll keep them off your back.”
“Perfect. We can put the fake princess on the horse I normally ride,” Briar said.
“Which horse do you want then?” Delanna asked as she pulled her horse—a tall, leggy gelding—from his stall. “I’ll brush him whilst you swap clothes.”
Briar couldn’t hold back her grin as she pointed. “That one.”
Silk, in Briar’s dress and an elbow-length cloak that covered her hair and shielded her eyes and face, nudged Briar’s usual gelding and rode it out into the palace lawn.
“Your Highness!” Jewel shrieked, whisking out of the stable in the perfect image of feminine horror. “Princess, please!”
Silk—the best horsewoman out of Briar’s ladies-in-waiting, cued her horse into a canter and rode off in the opposite direction, towards the palace.
“Your Highness, haven’t you said enough? The king will be furious,” Velvet shouted.
While the ladies made a commotion at the front of the barn, Briar and her little band slipped out the back, joining the mages.
Briar, wearing a plain dress with her hair tucked up in a handkerchief, gaped a bit at the enchantress’s strange mount. She clicked her jaw shut when she realized everyone—including Isaia and Valor—was present.
“I suggest our first order of business would be to get out of Ciane?” Lady Delanna posed the question in an artlessly innocent voice as she slung a quiver of arrows over her back.
“Agreed. Let’s go—before they shut the gates.” Briar directed her horse to the great, ornate gate that separated the palace grounds from the rest of Ciane.
Angelique and her fiery, night-sky mount pranced through first, then came Donaigh and Firra, then Briar and Delanna, and Isaia was last.
“Where are your companions?” Briar asked.
“They’ll catch up with us,” Angelique said. “They need a bit of time to acquire the item you asked for.”
“What if Ciane is locked down? Won’t they be trapped?” Lady Delanna asked.
The corners of Angelique’s lips turned up. “Not them. They will catch up with us, guaranteed. They always make their deliveries.”
Briar blinked. “What sort of folk are your friends?” She shut her mouth when she realized that people—average citizens—were stopping on the streets and staring at her. Briar had thought her disguise was pretty good, but she realized she had been failing to drop her gaze and shield her unusually colored eyes.
Guiltily, she glanced around and hunched her shoulders with worry.
The bystanders looked from Briar, to Angelique, and then to Isaia, and smiled.
Children giggled, and a few dogs began to bark.
To Briar’s surprise, many adults beamed with pride when they saw Briar’s mount, Misfit.
The horse, neither palfrey nor warhorse, stuck out even when compared to Angelique’s mystical mount, for he clearly did not match the extravagance of the other horses, even though he was a fine-looking steed.
Briar had taken Misfit for her own sake, but a small part of her hoped people would see him and would realize what she meant by choosing him.
She was not a fierce warrior. She would not be a princess who would be able to fight with her armies or even devise great tactics. Nor was she the beautiful royal who possessed elegance, polish, and a mind for court maneuverings.
Like Misfit, Briar was a strange mesh of two very different worlds. She was half farmer’s-brat and half learned-princess. And while the rest of the continent might look down on her—including her own court—she would never again let herself forget who she was.
Taking strength in their approval, Briar pushed her shoulders back and rode Misfit with pride as the road snaked its way between stone buildings and around public fountains.
Though Briar sweated with the worry that soldiers would come racing after them at any moment, they reached the city gates without a problem. Silk must be leading them on quite a merry chase!
They remained in their formation, with Angelique at the front and Isaia taking up the rear. Briar took care to look down and slouch back as if she hadn’t a care in the world when she passed the two guards stationed at the gates.
Isaia began passing through the gates just as a guard on a sweaty horse tore down the street.
The guard flung himself from his horse. “Princess is gone—don’t know where. King says to close the gate.”
The hair on Briar’s neck prickled as Misfit’s hooves hit the wooden walkway with dull thuds. She risked glancing backwards and saw the guards staring at them pointedly. Her heart froze in her chest when she caught their eye—she knew her gaze revealed her purple eyes.
The three soldiers stared at her, then one by one, they turned their backs to her.
“Better close the gate then,” one guard said.
“Yeah. And we didn’t see nobody who looked like the princess pass through here,” another said.
“We’re gonna be lucky if we only get latrine cleaning duty for a month instead of a year,” the rider sighed.
The rest of their conversation was obscured as they began to shut the gates. Briar laughed in relief even as the rest of her companions nudged their horses into a trot.
Briar gnawed on a hunk of cheese and scooted a little closer to Delanna. Gathered in a circle—they were taking a brief break to eat some dinner and decide where they should go. Th
ough the sunset was still a few hours away, it would be safer to spend the evening in a village than the countryside.
“Tavo is the closest village. It’s a five- or ten-minute ride from here. But I believe we could—and should—push on to Vino,” Isaia said.
Though he had opted to come, and Briar was certain of his friendship, they were still shuffling around each other awkwardly. I should talk to him about it, but I don’t think now—when we’re running from my grandfather and towards a vengeful magic user—is the best time.
Donaigh adjusted his straw hat. “As far as we know, Carabosso is north and moving southwest.”
“When did you last hear so?” Briar asked.
“The Lady Enchantress saw him herself. She was on her way to Ciane to warn King Giuseppe when we met up with her,” Firra said. “We haven’t gotten any new information since, though Angelique estimated he was half a day behind her at a normal riding pace.”
Briar nodded and separated from the group so she could tighten Misfit’s girth.
“The lady enchantress’s mount is very…unusual,” Delanna said.
“He’s not really her mount so much as he is her friend,” Donaigh said. “He was originally a companion of her master—though he’s traveled with her for so long I believe he’s spent more time with her than he ever did with Lord Enchanter Evariste.”
“He can run very fast,” Isaia said.
Briar snorted. At a full gallop the night-spattered horse looked like a streaking comet. Not even an elf horse would be able to keep pace with him! No wonder Angelique had volunteered to scout ahead.
“I should hope so. He is a constellation,” Firra said.
Briar finished adjusting her saddle. “A what?”
The ground shook and a rumble crawled through the air. Moments later Angelique, clinging to her steed, streaked across the open field, spraying dirt and tufts of grass when he skidded to a stop.
“It’s Carabosso,” Angelique said. “He’s here.”
Shock and fear squeezed Briar’s lungs.
Firra leaped to her feet. “What?”
“He’s attacking a nearby village,” Angelique said.
“That’d be Tavo.” Isaia grimly swung up onto Valor’s back. “Do we engage?”
“We can’t beat them. He has several magic users working with him, four Chimera, and, somewhere, he acquired a bunch of goblins.” Angelique said. “There are too many of them.”
“But if you used your core magic…” Firra trailed off when Angelique shook her head.
“We cannot ask that of her,” Donaigh said firmly. “Particularly as she has already done so much to help us that will displease the Conclave.”
“So what do we do?” Delanna was already mounted on her horse and loading an arrow into her crossbow.
“We could keep them distracted and try to evacuate any survivors,” Briar said.
Angelique turned her mount in a tight circle. “I think he’s coming for you, Princess,” she said.
Briar wanted to snarl. She had set off her curse to end the hold Carabosso held over her family, but her grandfather had played directly into his hand with his stubbornness!
“When I fought with him in the north, he was taking his time moving from east to west,” Angelique continued. “To reach Tavo, he must have started traveling south immediately after I got away. I doubt he did so to follow me. As it stands now, he is on a straight path towards Ciane.”
Isaia nodded. “Briar has been his target thus far. I doubt he would change tactics, given that he waited years for her to grow up.”
Briar scowled as she clambered into the saddle. “I’m still going to help with the evacuation.”
“Yes, but you cannot help fight,” Isaia said.
Briar scoffed. “Of course not! I might be able to defend myself from any suspicious men in the forest, but I am not so stupid as to think I could face a magic user.” Frankly, she was a little insulted he thought she would insist upon it. Briar had a perfectly reasonable sense of self-preservation that matched her courageous streak. Of course she wouldn’t go prancing into battle!
“I’ll go with Briar—I can pick off anything that might try to attack us,” Delanna offered. “Besides, our horses are the only ones not used to combat. If we get too close to the fight, we might lose control of them.”
“Perfect,” Firra said. “The rest of us can stand between. Briar, keep your handkerchief over your hair. The last thing we need is for Carabosso to recognize you.”
When the group was prepared, they set off for Tavo, scrambling in hopes that some of the village residents could still be saved.
Briar could smell the stench of the fight before she could see it. The scent of smoke and sulfur hit her like a wall. They reached the crest of a hill, and she could not hold back her cry of dismay.
Tavo, a prosperous farming town, was in flames. Goblins ran through the streets, shrieking with joy as they stabbed their weapons at fleeing villagers.
Firra heeled her horse and took off like an arrow for the town, shouting words of magic as she went. The hungry, orange flames turned blue.
A woman clothed in dark purple robes stood near Tavo. She raised her hands, and the flames again turned crimson.
Apparently Firra was not standing for that, for Briar heard her shout, and the flames turned a white-hot blue, and then were snuffed out.
The woman, a sorceress it seemed, pointed at the village—a few flames tried to burn again, but wilted and died under the force of Firra’s magic.
Donaigh and Angelique were not far behind the fire mage. Donaigh leaped from his horse and blinked in and out of sight as he tapped his magic and ran, zipping from goblin to goblin, taking them out with his knives and daggers.
Angelique and her horse waded through a band of goblins, attempting to reach the magic users. Eventually she slipped off her horse, raised her finger towards the sky, then flung her hand down towards the ground, shouting in the language of magic.
The goblins were flung backwards, and flopped head over heels when they hit the ground again. Working together, the three good magic users stemmed the flow of green-skinned creatures.
“I’ll go ahead of you—be careful,” Isaia said.
“You, too,” Briar said.
Isaia hesitated with his mouth cracked open. He shook his head and pulled his helm on, then spurred Valor. The mare gratefully lunged forward, plowing towards smoldering Tavo. Isaia—with a shield fastened to his back—twirled his sword and then started slicing through the remaining goblins.
“Ready, Your Highness?” Delanna asked.
Briar felt for the familiar shape of her knife cinched to her belt. “You’re stuck calling me Briar now—you’ve joined my show of rebellion after all.” When Delanna gave her a sour look, she smiled. “Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Delanna and Briar approached Tavo at a much slower pace than their companions. Delanna’s horse shied away a little, but Misfit trotted into the smoking streets without hesitation. With the smoke clogging the air, Briar pulled her kerchief down over her mouth and listened for cries.
It didn’t take her long to hear high-pitched sobs. She turned Misfit down a smoldering alleyway, and spotted a young woman crouched behind some barrels.
Briar hopped off Misfit and hurried to her. “You can’t stay here—come on, I’ll get you out.”
The scared woman let Briar boost her onto Misfit’s saddle with wide eyes. Briar climbed up behind her—there was plenty of room on Misfit’s broad back—and backed out of the alley.
Delanna waited for them in the street and nonchalantly shot a green-skinned goblin. She re-loaded her crossbow. “If we want to save more people, we’ll have to move faster than this.”
Briar nodded grimly. She sucked in a breath and shouted. “Sole, Sole, Sole! At arms for Sole!” She choked on smoke and stopped shouting long enough to recover.
Isaia would likely kill her for drawing attention to herself, but she had to let people know help had a
rrived!
The woman riding in front of her took a rattling breath, then she shouted “Sole! To the south—for Sole!”
When she had to stop, Delanna took up the cry. “Sole—evacuate to the south! To the south!” She shot two goblins without so much as blinking while she shouted.
Her respect for Delanna’s archery skills increasing every moment, Briar swung Misfit around in the streets. “Are there any horses we can set loose so people can ride out?”
“There’s a stable two streets up,” the woman said.
“I’ll drop you off here—you can escape to the south,” Briar said.
“No—I want to help.” The woman twisted around so she could look Briar in the eyes. “Please!” Though her cheeks were smudged with ash and streaked with tears, determination shone in her gaze.
“Fine, let’s go!” Briar cued Misfit into a velvet-smooth trot.
The stable was—thankfully—untouched by fire, though the frightened horses flashed the whites of their eyes.
Delanna stayed in the street as their guard—still shouting for evacuees—and Briar and the woman threw rope halters and lead ropes on the animals. There was no time for saddles or normal bridles. They tied the lead ropes off to make a poor imitation of reins, then led two horses outside each.
A few villagers had gathered outside by Delanna—an older couple, a set of parents and their children, and across the courtyard, a guard dragged an injured man along.
Though the pilfered horses rolled their eyes and nervously stomped their hooves, they seemed to calm slightly as people gathered around them.
“Go to the forest southeast of here,” Briar instructed as she helped the soldier heft the injured man onto a horse. One of the children, a young boy whose chin trembled, climbed up in front of the man and took the horse’s reins—the injured man could barely stay on the horse. “If you can’t get any farther, hide there, but at least one of you must continue east and warn the next village over—and send word to Ciane.” Briar looked from the injured man and little boy to the older couple—who were perched on the back of a placid draft horse.
“Yes, Miss,” the little boy said.
