The Dothan Chronicles: The Complete Trilogy

by Charissa Dufour

  “Bethany could explain better, but we suspect Rahel is improving. She’s not coughing nearly as much. And her sleep seems more peaceful.”

  Gilead gripped Erin’s shoulder in an act of solidarity before nodding. “Let us hope you are right. I’ll have the servant return to you. Let Bethany rest as long as she can.”

  Erin nodded.

  “Would you like us to find a replacement for you, Sir Caldry? So that you don’t have to be near the sickroom?” asked the queen.

  “No, thank you, ma’am. I’m happy to help.”

  Gilead and Debowrah nodded before turning away and leaving Erin to watch over the sleeping princess.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Three more days of work brought the number of sickened people within the castle up to a point where Bethany couldn’t care for them all. Upon deciding to move the patients into the barracks, Debowrah had insisted Bethany take a less “hands on” position. Healers were brought in from the city and, with the help of maidservants, took over the care of those currently ill.

  Bethany sat in the great hall, with Sevar at her side and Erin towering behind her, stewing over her return to boredom. The first day outside of the sickroom had been mostly spent in bed, recovering from four nights with barely any sleep. Now, though, she had nothing to do but oversee the different shift of workers to make sure no one grew as tired as she had been. It was a decidedly less satisfying position than that of a nursemaid.

  The princess glanced up from her sewing to watch Gilead stomp from one side of the great hall to the other as he listened to a counselor drone on about the current war efforts.

  “What you’re saying,” Gilead snapped, finally interrupting the older man, “is that we need more fighters on the borders to make sure Wolfric doesn’t take any more of our cities.”

  In one simple sentence, Gilead summed up the half an hour of explanation.

  The man gaped at him for a moment before remembering his manners and nodding to the king.

  “What about Lurran?” Bethany asked from her seat.

  “What about them?” demanded the king.

  “I met them on my travels. Even spoke with their Grand Mother.”

  “Their what?” asked the war counselor.

  “They are ruled by the oldest woman in their tribe. They call her Grand Mother. When I wa…”

  “They’re ruled by a woman?” scoffed one of the other counselors.

  Bethany let out a long sigh. “Yes. When I was…”

  “You think we ought to take help from someone ruled by a woman?” asked Gilead with a little chuckle.

  “Depends on the woman,” growled Bethany, letting her eyes slowly roam over the men watching her. “The Lurran know the woods better than any of us. They would be a formidable ally.”

  “Ally?” asked Gilead.

  “You can’t expect them to just roll over and let you take control. But if you approach them as an ally, allowing them complete autonomy, they may help you fight Wolfric.”

  “I don’t see how a small tribe of barbarians would be of any help at all.”

  “Well, those barbarians saved our li-my life and allowed me a safe haven to recover from an attack by bandits roaming your forests.”

  Gilead glared at her, angered by the subtle stab. Over his shoulder, Bethany spotted Miach matching her brother’s expression line for line. Bethany held no fear for her brother. He had already done his worst in giving her to Miach, but her husband-to-be was still to be feared.

  But Bethany refused to bow to her fear.

  “What about the people we’ve lost to Wolfric?”

  “What do you mean, Bethany?” grumbled Gilead, not really wanting to hear her answer.

  “There are plenty of people working land now held by Wolfric who are still faithful to our family.”

  “How would you know?”

  “I met them. Why not build a rebellion from within his lands?”

  “That would never work,” said the king.

  “Why?”

  “Because it wouldn’t. Miach, take her away.”

  Bethany swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. She would have left willingly if Gilead had sent her away. She didn’t need Miach’s punishing glare to get her to leave. Bethany waved Erin and Sevar back to their seats, not wanting an audience for whatever was about to happen.

  Miach met Bethany at the doorway of the great hall. He took her roughly by the arm and drug her out and up the nearest stairwell leading to the family level. Bethany didn’t fight his tight grip, even though it hurt. She would have five bruises tomorrow from where his fingers dug into her flesh.

  He continued to drag her up past the family level, nearing the story where the guest rooms, including his, sat.

  “Where are we going?” she finally asked, fearing his answer.

  Miach grunted. Bethany stopped walking, wincing at the pain of his grip as he jerked to a stop. She wasn’t going to go with him if he wasn’t going to answer her. He may be her future husband, but that didn’t mean he had the rights of a husband yet.

  “Where are we going?” she repeated when he turned to glower down at her.

  “To a place we can talk in private.”

  “There is no one here. Talk.”

  “How dare you question me, woman?”

  Bethany tilted her chin up. “I dare because I am not yet your wife. I am a princess and I out rank you. Now, speak your peace.”

  Miach didn’t mince words, but raised his hand to strike her. Bethany wanted to duck, but refused to. Maybe a good bruise would change her brother’s mind. Still, she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for a blow that did not come.

  When she finally opened an eye, she found Miach’s arm raised in the air, caught in a strong fist. Bethany spotted Erin, scowling at Miach. The lord matched Erin’s expression with equal darkness.

  “How dare you,” growled Miach.

  “I have sworn to protect Princess Bethany,” said Erin simply.

  “I am her betrothed.”

  Erin ground his teeth together. “And until the day you are wed, I will continue to protect her, even from you.”

  The scarred knight released Miach’s hand with a jerk, making the older man wince despite his best effort.

  “Princess Bethany,” Erin said in a pleasant tone. “May I escort you to your room?”

  Bethany swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. Erin gave Miach one last glare as he offered her his arm. Bethany took it, too content with Erin’s interference to worry about Miach’s retribution. Slowly, they walked away from the seething man.

  Erin remained silent as he escorted her down the stairs to the family level and on to her room. They both glanced up and down the hallway to confirm they were alone before slipping into her room. Thus far, Erin had never been inside her room. He stopped just inside the door and glanced around. Compared to some royalty, her room was not that large.

  “You still play?” he asked, glancing at the elegant harp sitting in the far corner, collecting dust.

  Bethany forced a smile to her lips. “I think the last time I played was in Tolad. I have all the wrong callouses now.”

  Erin smiled before lapsing into silence.

  “Erin, while I appreciate what you did, you shouldn’t have.”

  Erin’s smile fell into a frown. “I know. But I couldn’t help it, and I would do it all over again.”

  Bethany nodded. “I figured you would say that.”

  “I will also be speaking to Gilead.”

  Bethany grimaced. “That won’t go well.”

  “Probably not, but at least then I have done something. I can’t stand by and do nothing about this issue.”

  Bethany nodded again. “I guess I can appreciate that.”

  Erin cocked an eyebrow at her, the movement pulling on his scars. “You guess?”

  Bethany smiled, her fears and nerves settling the longer she was safe in his presence. “I don’t like it, but I can’t argue with it.”

  �
�You don’t like me fighting for you?”

  “I…I don’t like you putting yourself up against a king when you can’t win. Sometimes you have to pick your battles. What if Gilead is so upset with you he sends you away? Who will I have to turn to then?”

  Erin chewed on his bottom lip as he thought over her words. “I won’t leave here without you.”

  “You’ll take me by force?”

  Erin’s pensive expression instantly transformed into a dark glare at her reference to what Féderic had done to her. The knight stomped across the room and towered over her. Had it been anyone else, Bethany might have flinched. His hands snaked up her arms, finally gripping her shoulders.

  “What do you think?”

  Bethany tilted her head. “I honestly don’t know. I know you would never hurt me, but sometimes, Erin, you take your task of protecting me to a new level. I don’t know where you might take it next.”

  Erin leaned down, tempting her with his full lips.

  “Maybe,” he whispered. “Maybe I will throw you over my shoulder and steal you away from this awful place.”

  Bethany wondered how she managed to stay on her feet. Her spine felt as though it had melted away as a fresh wave of butterflies accosted her stomach. All she had to do was pull herself up onto her tip-toes to press her lips against his.

  She wanted to. A memory of their stolen kiss in the servant’s corridor brought a blush to her cheeks. Erin’s quick eye spotted the change in complexion, causing him to smile. He leaned a little closer, bringing temptation to her very doorstep. Bethany closed her eyes, knowing she couldn’t look into his green eyes and refrain from doing what she so desperately wanted to do. Half of her mind hoped he might take the lead and start the kiss.

  After a short wait, she opened her eyes to find him standing up straight again, staring intently at her, a smile playing at his lips.

  “Nice try, little princess,” he said, patting her cheek with his large hand. “But the last time I kissed you, you rejected me. Not again. You want it, you come and get it.”

  Bethany’s face blazed with a blush of deep embarrassment. She glared up at him, shocked and a little hurt by his words. She couldn’t, wouldn’t kiss him again, but if he kissed her, she would meekly submit. At least, that’s what she told herself.

  “Fine then,” she snapped, her mortification making her tone sharper than she had intended it. “Just go then.”

  Erin’s smile widened as he winked at her and slipped away.

  Bethany paced around her room, too angry and embarrassed to settle into any one task. She couldn’t decide if she was angrier with Erin for catching her at her little trick or at herself for wanting what she couldn’t have.

  Why must life be so unfair? she wondered as she continued to pace.

  Bethany picked up her skirts and raced out of the castle, Gilead and Erin hot on her heels, while her mother moved as fast as her age and demeanor would allow. The servant had come bursting into the great hall, saying they were needed at the barracks where the sick were being cared for. Bethany held her notes to her chest as she raced to the barracks.

  Over the week and a half since the outbreak she had kept copious notes in the hopes of finding a cause. Thus far, nothing added up. Bethany glanced at Erin as she ran, a fresh blush burning her cheeks. She still couldn’t look at the knight without glowing red after she nearly kissed him. Thankfully, Miach had not noticed this new tendency. Granted, the old man generally avoided Erin, much to Bethany’s relief.

  The group skidded to a stop outside the barracks. Healer Pharem met them in the doorway, cleaning his hands on a stained rag. He held up his hand, keeping them from asking the demanding question, and stepped out of the doorway into the fresh air.

  “I’m sorry to say, Lochesh and Salah died during the night.”

  Bethany closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry again.

  “There’s more,” continued the healer. “I doubt Dinah or Lilith will survive the day.”

  “And Rahel?” asked Debowrah, thinking of the only child left.

  “Rahel is well on her way to being completely better. I am moving her back to the nursery today, if all goes well. But the others were simply too weak after the journey here from Carthind to fight such an illness.”

  “You!” Bethany screamed at Gilead, all her control lost in her grief. “You did this!”

  Bethany lunged at her older brother, ready to choke the life out of him with bare hands. Before she could take a step, strong arms wrapped around her body, pinning her arms to her sides.

  “Had you listened to me, they might still be alive!” she cried, barely noticing the shock and anguish on her brother’s face.

  He had already realized the truth of her words before she spoke them. He felt the full impact of her accusation. Bethany went limp in Erin’s strong grasp, slowly turning herself until she could wrap her own arms around his neck, for once not caring who saw her seek comfort from him.

  “Have the pyres prepared,” ordered Gilead in a subdued tone. “Is there any good news, healer?”

  “Yes.” He paused. “Now just didn’t seem the time. I have not had any new cases in the castle or in the city for forty-eight hours. I think the worst is past us.”

  “That is good. Erin, please take the princess back to her room, and stay with her if need be,” added the king, noticing the way Bethany slumped in the knight’s grasp.

  Erin cleared his throat. “I’m not sure Lord Miach would like me staying with her.”

  “I don’t care what Miach likes or doesn’t like,” snapped the queen mother before Gilead could reply. “Take care of the princess.”

  Erin nodded once before scooping Bethany up into his arms. She carefully nestled her head into the crook of his neck, feeling his stubble rub against her forehead.

  “What next?” she whispered to him. “What else can go wrong?”

  Erin didn’t speak. He didn’t have any words that could comfort her.

  “Ssshh,” he finally hissed. “We’re not alone.”

  The servants stepped aside, letting Erin pass with his burden. Through her teary eyes, she watched them show unusual respect for the knight. Like her, he had taken pains to know their names and their stories. Erin really was a different person from who she had known in Tolad. She gripped him tighter as he worked his way up the stairs.

  A servant spotted them in the family corridor, and helpfully opened her bedroom door for him. Bethany felt no fear in being seen alone with the knight, now that her mother had ordered it. Even Miach bowed to the king.

  Erin sat on the bed, leaning himself up against headboard and holding Bethany close. Even in her panicked, heartbroken state, Bethany knew it was inappropriate to be on her bed with the knight, but she just couldn’t care. If anyone knew they had once shared a bed while journeying to Dothan she would be ruined. That too, she couldn’t care about. Her reputation meant nothing, except in its power to allow her to do her duty.

  The word duty was becoming a curse to her tired mind. Everything in her life was done to further achieve her duty. And every time she lived according to the needs of her people, she took another step away from the life she wanted.

  She didn’t want to marry or do what married people did. Though she mostly forgot about her fears when near Erin.

  Bethany listened to the steady beat of his heart, slowly relaxing in his long, strong arms. Very slowly, she drifted to sleep, losing herself in a dream world where she was free.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lyolf rubbed his aching neck. Wolfric sure did know how to make a meeting drag on. Thus far, nearly all the groups had been sent off to make their way over the Whitecap Mountains. A large army had also been sent to the western end of the border to wreak havoc on the towns lining the Tolad side of the Narrow Sea. By now, they were already there, obeying their orders.

  Tomorrow, Lyolf would disembark with his brother, Wolfric, and a few other soldiers. Much to Brid’s relief, Lyolf was leaving Cred in charg
e, even though the older man wanted to join in on the fighting. Cred was not one to watch other men do the work or take the risk, but Lyolf needed someone taking care of his home. He wouldn’t be able to fight well if he was worried about those under him being abused.

  A servant poked his head into the barracks where they were standing around a table with a large map of the Whitecaps pinned to the surface.

  “Yes?” asked Lyolf, knowing the servant feared interrupting the king’s most recent repeating of their plan.

  “Sorry, sir, but the guards at the gatehouse want to see you. They are some mighty strange lookin’ people coming up from the city.”

  Lyolf frowned as he nodded to the king before making his exit. What could he mean by “mighty strange looking people?”

  He reached the gatehouse and raced up the spiral staircase to look out over the city from the heights of the gatehouse. As he had been informed, a small group of white-haired people were working their way up the winding path that led to his keep. Lyolf felt his jaw drop in shock. They were Lurran.

  Was Athelyna among them?

  Lyolf had done his best not to think about her during the three months since his arrival in Nava. He truly doubted she would ever come to him. He had done his best to let her beautiful, exotic face go. Eventually, he knew he would have to marry, and it would be easier to love his chosen partner if he wasn’t harboring feelings for another woman.

  From this distance Lyolf couldn’t make out their faces. He turned back and raced down the spiral staircase. Moving at full tilt, his guards doing their best to keep up, he ran to the slow moving group. As he drew near, slowly making out their features, he spotted Athelyna helping an injured woman stumble up the slope.

  Lyolf skidded to a stop in shock, giving his guards a chance to catch up. The minute they reached his side he took off again, reaching the small group in record time.

  “Athelyna,” he called as he approached in an effort to warn his guards that the group was not a threat.

  She looked up and a brilliant smile spread across her delicate face. She passed the injured woman to another person and raced ahead of her group, colliding with Lyolf as they ran into an embrace. Lyolf wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her into the air, his lips seeking hers. They kissed again and again as he spun her around, her feet nearly taking out his guards.