by Ann Bakshis
“Let’s go,” I grumble as the horizon begins to lighten with the approaching sun. “I’m not waiting any longer.”
“How do you want to approach this?” Caster asks as he stands beside me while we camp near the broken wall marking the border for Geron.
We had initially been staying in an old rotted cabin, but it was in such poor shape that we didn’t have any choice but to move closer to the kingdom.
“You have over a hundred men here. We can easily storm in and snatch her,” Caster says.
“But we’d need to know precisely where in the castle she is, so we don’t lose these men,” Argus says. “Even if we do attempt a raid through the secret passages you and Kerron told us about, that’s no guarantee we can grab her safely.”
“There might be another way,” Caster utters in distress. “It’ll need to just be the three of us though. Your Vagter will have to stay here.”
“I don’t know how I feel about that,” Argus says.
“The more we talk, the more time Lycus has to torment and torture Ore,” I say. “We need to get in there now.”
“We’ll need something to cover our heads, so we’re not recognized in case we run in to any of the guards who accompanied Lycus into Latrest,” Caster says.
Argus digs through a duffle bag one of his men brought when they left the castle and removes three thin, dark gray cloaks with hoods. We each take one, put it on, mount our horses, and head into Geron. Caster leads the way since he knows where to go. It takes us nearly two hours to reach the outskirts of a village that’s so run down even the rats are scurrying to get out. Roofs sag, the mud has an odd sheen to it, men and women run around as if they’ve never met a bar of soap, and children play with scraps of anything they can get their hands on. I’m repulsed that any king would allow his people to live in such squalor, even if it was Gregor and now Lycus.
I take a hard look at every face we pass, hoping I don’t see Ore among them, but I sincerely doubt Lycus would ever let her wander down among this filth, though I’m sure he’s been here quite often himself. Especially when we get close to what Caster has always referred to as a bathhouse. Barely dressed women dangle out of open windows lining the first floor calling to those on the street. In between their cries, you can hear raised voices in the midst of heightened pleasure from the upper floors as windows hang wide open, probably to let out some of the trapped heat and putrid stench.
Caster halts his horse when we come upon a group of tall spikes protruding from the ground along the outer road that divides the village from what appears to be the castle’s boundary, though I don’t see a fence or gate at the moment. The road we’re on continues north before disappearing around a bend lined with thick oak trees, so I assume the entrance to the castle grounds is in that direction.
“Why are we stopped?” Argus asks as his horse comes up to mine.
“That’s why,” Caster says, pointing to a body that’s been impaled on one of the spikes.
Kerron’s left arm dangles loosely at his side, but I’m sure it won’t stay there long as ravens have begun to gnaw on the rotting flesh. His body is caked in dried blood from wounds that appear to have been inflicted on his back, all the way through to his front. The largest being across his spine, which is exposed. I have to look away from the sight as more ravens join in the feast.
“Well, that explains why he didn’t return,” Caster says a little too casually for my taste. “Come on, let’s keep moving.”
We turn on to the new road heading off to the right, the village disappearing behind us. Argus keeps a steady watch as we trot along, a crossbow strapped across his chest and ready to fire if anyone tries to approach us.
A group of cabins comes into view, each one fairly well kept, but still in need of some type of repair. Young men and women tend to the gardens that sit between each dwelling while children scamper about laughing and playing. It’s a far cry from the village, so I wonder why there’s such a difference between the two. Perhaps those in this section work in the town that rests north of the castle, or in the castle itself. Could we be going to speak with someone who works for the king? That doesn’t seem like a smart thing to do, but at the moment I’ll do anything to get Ore out of there.
Caster pulls to a stop in front of a cabin painted yellow with several rows of flowers flanking the stone pathway that leads up to the door. We dismount from our horses and tie them to a long post wedged into the ground. Caster drops his hood as he steps up to the door, but neither Argus nor I do the same. He breathes deeply before knocking. At first it doesn’t appear that anyone is home until the curtain hanging over the window beside the door parts slightly revealing a set of cool gray eyes. The door eventually opens and a woman around Caster’s age stands before us with her hands on her wide hips and a scowl on her face. Her long brown hair has streaks of silver woven among the strands. Her skin is tan, probably from working outside, and she stands around Ore’s height, maybe an inch taller.
“What the hell do you want?” she asks, annoyed by our presence.
“Can we come in to talk?” Caster asks, then gestures to Argus and me.
“Why?”
“Just let us in, Verna,” he says a little more forcefully.
She steps aside and motions for us to enter, then swiftly closes the door behind us and directs us to the back of the cabin where a tiny kitchen with a small table sit. She returns to preparing a meal she must have been cooking before we interrupted while Caster sits at the table and Argus and I linger off to the side. Once her food is made, she joins Caster then glares at him.
“Well, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here or not?” she asks.
“We need your help getting into the castle,” he answers, which causes her to snort.
“You know where all the secret passageways are, so get in that way,” she grumbles as she begins to eat her soup.
“It’s a little more complicated than that,” he replies.
“You’re always so dramatic about everything,” she retorts. “I see abandoning me nearly nineteen years ago hasn’t changed that about you.”
“Who is this woman?” Argus asks as he stands uncomfortably by a slope in the ceiling, forcing him to bend his neck so he doesn’t hit his head.
“I’m his wife,” she replies, grinning.
“Ex-wife,” Caster says, quick to correct her. “King Gregor dissolved our marriage shortly after it started at David’s and my request.”
“And wasn’t that lucky for you,” she chides. “The only reason he did it was because you were Prince David’s baronet, otherwise you would’ve been stuck with me no matter what you tried to do.”
“Why did you two marry if you hate each other so much?” I ask.
“Because the idiot here thought it was the honorable thing to do,” she snorts. “Dumb fuck couldn’t keep his hands off me and got me pregnant, but I wound up losing the baby after only a few weeks and he went running to the prince to fix his mistake.”
“You’re to blame in this as well,” he counters. “It’s not like you played innocent in our little trysts. You came on to me just as strongly as I did to you. Maybe even more so.”
“And I prefer to ignore that part,” she says, going back to her meal.
“Regardless of all that, we need you to help us into the castle,” Caster says.
“What for?”
He leans forward and places his hand on one of hers. “To get Elizabeth’s daughter out,” he says.
Verna’s other hand freezes midair. “Honora is Elizabeth’s?” she asks, her demeanor rapidly changing. She sets her spoon into her bowl and leans back. “I should’ve known since she has the same eyes and hair that Elizabeth does.”
“You knew Elizabeth?” I ask. “How?”
Verna looks over at me and I notice sadness in her eyes. “She was my best friend,” she replies. “She grew up with me, on the farm my family owned. She was like a sister to me, even though we were close in age. I helped r
aise her along with my other siblings. It was how I met Caster for the first time, since he always accompanied the prince when he was visiting Elizabeth when he wasn’t supposed to be. I would help her sneak out and while they were talking, or doing whatever, Caster and I would spend the time together away from them. Things developed from there, and the rest is history.” She changes her focus to Caster. “Where is Elizabeth?”
His face falls as his finger rubs her hand. “I’m sorry,” he says, the heartache reappearing on his face.
She gets up from her chair so abruptly that she nearly knocks it over, then she breaks into sobs. “I knew it,” she whispers. “I knew she wasn’t dead like everyone believed.” Verna turns and glowers at Caster. “She was with you, wasn’t she?” she asks, wagging a finger in his direction while she stays on the other side of the room. “That’s where you’ve been. Shacking up with her.”
“It wasn’t like that,” he says, turning defensive. “You knew what kind of man King Gregor was. I was only protecting Elizabeth and the baby from his vengefulness.”
“Whatever,” she utters, wiping the tears from her face before retaking her seat. “I doubt you needed to be away that long for such a task. So, how was my sister? I’m sure you were a step down from the prince, but I guess when you’re lonely and desperate you’ll fuck anyone within reach.”
“Enough of this,” I snap. “We don’t have time for you two to rehash old animosities. Honora is our priority, not either of you.”
“Who the hell do you think you are talking to me like that in my home?” Verna asks, becoming snippy.
I drop the hood and pull out the chain I just started wearing, the Pelheim medallion secured to the end of it. The only reason I decided to wear it this way now is because of our traveling into Geron. I wanted quick access to it in case I needed to identify myself.
“Prince or King?” she asks, her demeanor still sour.
“King,” I answer.
“Well, good for you,” she snarks, then goes back to her food.
“This is serious,” Caster says, slapping the table, which startles the woman. “Honora is in that castle having God knows what done to her by that demented psychopath you call a king.”
“And the king will have my head if I help you,” Verna says, seething. “You can’t just waltz in here and expect me to cooperate willingly when I know what it’ll cost me if I’m caught. Don’t you think I know how crazy Lycus is? I’m his washer woman. I’ve seen the condition of his linens and clothes after he’s had a female visitor, as well as the perverse paintings he displays in his bedchamber. Do you think it’s by chance that Kerron is on display like he is? It’s a warning to all who might think about defying Lycus, and I don’t want to wind up next to the former leader of the Vagter.”
“What if we take you with us?” Argus asks.
“What?” Caster, Verna, and I all ask in unison.
“You can’t be serious,” Caster says.
“I’m very serious,” Argus replies. “Hell, I’d drag everyone I could away from this shithole if there was a way. What’s wrong with having an extra person with us?”
“Because she’s my ex-wife,” Caster says, fuming. “There’s no way I’m traveling anywhere with her.”
“I’d rather be taken prisoner than be stuck with Caster again,” Verna counters.
“I sincerely doubt that’s true,” I grumble. “Besides it’s not like you two will be living together when this is over. I’ll make sure you’re somewhere comfortable, Verna, so you don’t need to ever deal with Caster again.”
“Fine,” she says. “But if I’m captured, I’ll have no problem divulging everything to the king. I don’t give a damn who you are. I’ll make you suffer for my death.”
“How are you going to get her out?” Argus asks.
“I’m scheduled to help in the kitchen today because the king had a large feast last night commemorating Kerron’s execution,” Verna replies. “The table linens are a disaster as is the kitchen itself. I’m to report in an hour and will probably be there until late tonight. If I’m able to get to Honora, I can have her go through the tunnel in the kitchen.”
“Won’t it look suspicious to everyone else who’ll be working?” I ask. “If that kitchen is run like the one in Latrest, it’ll be crammed with servants. There’s no way you’d be able to sneak her out in the middle of the day.”
“You’re not very bright, are you?” Verna asks. “Didn’t you hear what I said? I’ll be there until late tonight. That’ll be the only time I can get her out. The staff will have gone to bed, and those of us still working will be too tired to notice anything. Besides, I can always chalk it up to the lady needing a respite from the king since that’s how Gregor always traveled when he was sneaking out to the village for his clandestine encounters. No one would really suspect anything with that excuse.”
“I don’t ever recall there being women going to the bathhouses for entertainment,” Caster says.
“And how would you know this?” Verna asks, glaring at him.
He blushes.
“That’s what I thought,” she grouses. “Look, Honora is David’s child just like Lycus. If she’s anything like her brother, she’ll have proclivities for things no normal human should crave. I’m not one to judge what the lady may desire, so no one else will either.”
“He’s that bad?” Argus asks, dumbfounded.
“Well, Gregor did raise him,” Caster says.
“True, but Lycus is far worse than his grandfather,” Verna says. “It’s almost like a sickness with him.”
“Maybe he inherited it from Moyra,” Caster comments. “That woman was always detestable and not much was known about her until her father came slithering his way back to Gregor. He kept her pretty well hidden before then, and that’s saying something since the king was always kept abreast about the dealings in Murias no matter who was ruling. He had at least two or three spies working in that failed kingdom.”
“Anything is possible,” Verna says, finishing her soup. “Look, if you want me to do this then I have some conditions. First, leave the dwerg-reus behind. He can wait for us at the tunnel that exits into the woods.”
“Why?” I ask, protesting.
“Because I’m sure he’s more capable at warding off attacks than you are,” she replies, staring at me. “Plus having too many people around might be too traumatic for her depending on what she’s been through. I know if I was in her position, the fewer people who know, the better it would make me feel.” She gets up and places her bowl in the sink before continuing. “Second, I want a nice house like this one, preferably away from any major towns or villages as I want nothing but peace and quiet to fill my days. And finally, a stipend to get me through my years until I die.”
“You want to be paid for your services?” Caster asks.
“I think it’s only fair since I’ll be risking my life for this and I’m worth at least something even though I’m worthless to you.”
“Deal,” I say before the two can start bickering again.
She smiles.
“Let’s get going,” Caster grumbles as he stands. “But you better come through.” He jabs a finger in Verna’s face, but she doesn’t flinch.
“Unlike most people, I keep my promises,” she retorts.
Caster is about to say something when I grab his arm and haul him towards the door.
“If I’m not out by midnight, then you know I wasn’t able to retrieve her,” Verna says. “So, look for my body in the village beside Kerron’s and you can be certain I’ll haunt the hell out of you.” She slams the door in our faces.
I tuck the chain back under my shirt, then the three of us secure the hoods over our heads before mounting our horses. Caster brings us back to the village, but instead of taking the main road that runs through it, we continue on the one we used to reach the cabin and meander through dense trees finally stopping by a large oak with a trunk as thick and tall as a tower.
“Th
at’s the exit,” Caster says, pointing to it. “There’s a staircase leading down to the tunnel just inside the trunk. It takes about twenty minutes to walk the entire length from here to the kitchen.”
Argus does a preliminary tour of the area, locating a section where he can lie in wait as well as a few spots he can set some traps just in case he’s discovered.
“We’ll be waiting for you with the guards at the border wall,” I say. “If Verna doesn’t show, then do whatever it takes to get Ore out of there.”
“I’ll make sure she escapes,” Argus says.
“Caster, you’re going to need to leave your horse since Argus can’t travel with both women on his,” I say.
He grumbles but dismounts and hands the reins to Argus. When he’s sitting behind me, we hurry our way back to the guards as the sun continues to move further overhead. When we reach the camp I start to dismount since Caster already has when one of the men hands me a letter.
“What’s this?” I ask, noticing the royal Pelheim seal.
“This was delivered an hour ago by urgent dispatch from the castle,” he replies.
I break the seal and immediately recognize Henry’s handwriting.
“What does it say?” Caster asks.
“Henry is requesting my immediate return to Latrest, as my father may not last much longer. He’s stopped eating and is refusing all medical treatment,” I reply.
“What do you want to do?” Caster asks, concern in his voice.
“I don’t have a choice,” I say, folding the letter and placing it in my pocket. “I have to see him before it’s too late.”
“I’ll come with you, since Argus isn’t available.”
“Thank you, Caster.”
“What do you want me to tell the men, Your Majesty?” the guard who delivered the note asks.
“Leave roughly half here to wait for Argus to return while the rest will come with me to Latrest,” I reply. “If Argus isn’t back by morning, invade Geron.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
We wait for the guards to pack their belongings and tents, then commandeer a horse from one of my guards for Caster to ride before making our way back to Pelheim. I don’t want to leave until I have Ore back in my arms, but I can’t fail my father either. I feel confident in Argus following through, which gives me some peace of mind. I’m sure Caster is just as worried about it all as I am, so it means a great deal to me that he’s accompanying me during this difficult time. My heart hurts with the knowledge that I’ll soon be losing my father, I just hope I don’t need to mourn the loss of Ore as well. I couldn’t bear to lose them both. I’ve been preparing myself for Job’s passing, but if everything fails with Ore, I don’t know what I’ll do or how I’ll react. This is all becoming too much, but I can’t show my fear or weakness since everyone needs me to be strong. None more so than myself.
