by N M Zoltack
A collection of rushes underfoot had Rase pausing to wipe off his soles as much as he could. The last thing he needed was to fall down while holding this knife. He was liable to maim or even kill himself with it.
Rase jumped onto a bench and then its corresponding table, trying to bypass the floor altogether. With relative ease, he covered some distance before he had to walk down a table some before jumping to the next to avoid a fistfight.
Two more tables down and Rase was able to see his pa. He was fighting yet, covered in sweat. Merle was fighting too. Linton was pressing toward them, his knife carving into those opposing him as if their flesh was nothing more than warm bread.
“Pa!” Rase cried out. He jumped again, for the first time mis-stepping, and his ankle rolled. His wrists jarred against the table as he went down, but he somehow managed to keep a hold of the knife.
His pa glanced toward Rase.
Linton’s blade flashed.
So did Merle’s.
The two blades met with a glint sparking off. Merle kicked Linton’s stomach. The man staggered back, turned his head to the side, and vomited.
Rase felt a little vindicated in his earlier choice to not headbutt the man as he rushed over to his pa as fast as he could, limping severely.
He handed his pa the knife or would have, but his pa didn’t take it.
Merle swept Linton’s foot out from under him. The man went down hard, landing in his own filth.
“You get out of here,” Merle growled.
The owner tucked away his knife even though he hadn’t cleaned it yet and reached into his coin purse. With a flick of his thumb, he sent a coin tumbling into the air. It landed and spun for a bit near Linton before landing. It was a battered silver rectangular coin engraved with a dragon’s head, an upraised ten chiseled by the coiled tail.
That was far more than Rase’s pa owed.
Linton scrambled to retrieve the coin. He stared hard at Merle. “He and I are square,” he said. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He might well have a new scar on the other side of his face.
“And I paid enough that you and I are square too so long as you and your crew never show up ‘round here again,” Merle said firmly.
Linton slowly climbed to his feet. “You can’t mean to lose the coins I give every night.”
“To be rid of you? It’ll be a tradeoff and clearly one I’m willing to make. Now out. Go. Now.”
Linton sauntered up to Rase’s pa, staring him down before doing the same to Merle. Neither men seemed intimidated by the gesture, and then Linton stalked off. He whistled, blood spraying from his lips, and his crew trailed out behind him.
Merle wearily wiped his forehead. “Go on now. All of you. Out.”
It didn’t take much convincing for the others to leave. Rase and his pa didn’t budge.
Frieda approached, under the guise of cleaning, but Rase knew she wanted to listen.
“I’ll repay you,” Rase’s pa said.
“You and I both know you can’t.” Merle shook his head. “You cost me a lot more than that silver coin. Linton’s right. He and his men spent a lot here every night. We’re going to struggle without—”
“I’ll continue to work for free,” Rase blurted out. “I won’t even eat any. And I’m sorry about the ale. I just… I wanted to help and… I didn’t mean to make a mess of everything. If I had kept quiet…” To his horror, he blinked back tears.
“You stood up for your pa,” Merle said. “That’s commendable.”
“Only if you have a decent pa,” Rase’s pa mumbled.
“You’re doing the best you can,” Rase said.
His pa shook his head. “My best isn’t good enough. Every choice I make is the wrong one. I… When I gamble, I feel alive. It’s reckless and daring and thrilling. There’s nothing like it.”
“You can’t gamble again,” Merle warned. “You can’t show up here again at all.”
Rase’s pa hung his head. “I know I can’t. Can’t come down here again. Can’t gamble. Can’t feed my family. Can’t do anything right.”
Rase’s pa rubbed his forehead, scratched his head, and sighed. “I can’t ever repay you is right, Merle, but I’ll never forget this.”
“I’m sure I won’t either,” Merle said grimly. “Now go. Scram. The two of you.”
Rase’s pa didn’t bother to watch where he stepped as he made his way toward the exit and left, but Rase didn’t move.
“Please, sire,” Rase said desperately. “You did my pa a huge service. Allow me to try to help repay the debt somehow.”
Merle shook his head. “I have work to do, son. You best leave.”
“At least let me help clean.”
“No. Go.”
“Why not?” Rase demanded. “My pa did you wrong. He cost you a lot, and I want to help. Why won’t you let me?”
“Don’t you see?” Frieda said from two tables over. “You helped enough already.”
“But—”
“If you think I didn’t know who you were or what you were doing the first time you came around, you’re wrong,” Merle said. “Not much goes on here that I don’t know about.”
“Maxene,” Rase mumbled. He stared at the filth on the floor. Already, flies were starting to buzz around.
Rase had blundered in a massive way. Now, he wouldn’t have any food and certainly none to bring back to his family, plus his only potential source to learn about Maxene would most likely never talk to him again.
He had failed as much as his pa had.
Like father, like son.
Ignoring the tavern owner, Rase climbed to the other side of the overturned table and attempted to lift it, grunting and groaning. Even with the trenches empty, the table was heavy. How had his pa been able to upend it all by himself?
Merle helped him and then gently gripped him by the elbow and steered him to the door. “You wanted to help your father. His debt to Linton is paid in full. So long as he doesn’t entangle with them again, he’ll be safe. That’s a fair amount of help you did for him.”
“But that’s not enough,” Rase protested. “We owe you a debt now.”
“And there’s a simple way to repay it,” Merle said. “Do not ever return.”
“But—”
“Never,” Merle repeated, and he shut the tavern door in Rase’s face.
26
Princess Vivian Rivera
The castle was a very somber affair lately, and Vivian hated it. She hated feeling so depressed. A baby had died. How could the Fates be so very cruel? Aldith was one thing. She had betrayed her spouse and the entire kingdom. Bates had been the result of that betrayal, yes, but he himself had been innocent. Why had the baby died? Why couldn’t he have lived?
It shocked Vivian how utterly devastated she was by the baby’s death. While she had taken to hugging and holding the baby at night for hours at a time to ward off her nightmares, she knew Noll loved the baby much more than she had.
Nightmares. For the past fortnight, Vivian had been having terrible dreams of boats and storms and water and drowning. Perhaps her conversation with the vicar had been the cause of them, but Vivian hated those nightmares. She had taken to spending time with Bates in order to avoid sleeping. The baby would sleep in her arms, and she would feel at peace. She adored those moments, cherished them. Maybe one day, she would feel that same peace again. Maybe not. Maybe Bates had been her Rohesia. Maybe now, she would be forever changed.
No. Not her. Her biggest fear was that Noll would be the one permanently altered by the baby’s passing. The tragedy had occurred only three hours ago, and already, it weighed heavily on Vivian’s heart and soul. How, then, must Noll feel?
It took Vivian nearly another hour before she could find her brother. He was in one of the many tea rooms, curled up beside a window, his knees tucked under his chin. Twin streaks of tears had already forged onto his cheeks. Although no new tears were falling, those trails remained.
“Noll,” she
said softly.
He did not turn to her. His face remained turned to the window.
She crossed over to him and touched his shoulder. Words failed her, but perhaps that was for the best. What could she say after all? What could make him feel better? Nothing. Maybe not even time. Look at her father. Their mother had died fifteen years ago, but still, he mourned her.
A few tears trickled down her cheeks.
Noll pated her hand, startling her.
“You danced with him at night,” he said.
She blinked in surprise. “I wouldn’t call it dancing. I would hold him and walk. He… He brought me peace.”
“I could have seen him. I meant to. I got distracted. I asked… I wanted Father… I…” Noll shook his head.
“Sh.” Vivian held his head to her chest and rubbed his shoulder. “It is all right.”
“No, it isn’t!” He struggled to break free of her hold, but Vivian held him fast, tight against her.
“You had no way to know that he would…” She couldn’t say that word. “Do not blame yourself.”
Noll shoved her away. She staggered back. Her brother stood. She hadn’t realized just how much taller he was than she.
“I was angry with Father. I wanted him to spend time with Bates, and he didn’t want to. Instead of seeing the baby myself, I went down to the stable. I don’t even like horses that much. They scare me. I could have been with Bates. I could have been there. Maybe then, maybe then he would still be alive.”
Vivian shook her head. “The wet nurse said it happens sometimes. A baby lies down to sleep, and the baby doesn’t wake. It is not your fault. It is not anyone’s fault. It happens.”
“By the Fates.”
Vivian gasped. She had never heard her brother curse before.
“Babies should not die. Never.”
“I wish that were the case,” she said sadly. “Believe me. Babies should not die. Children should not. Mothers shouldn’t.”
“But fathers can?” he grumbled.
“Noll,” she said, startled and scandalized. “You must stop this!”
“If not for Father, I would have seen Bates. I know I would have.”
“You do know that Rosalynne was there at least.”
Noll said nothing. He did not even seem to breathe.
“Why did you go to see Father?” Vivian asked after a long, tense moment of silence.
“I wanted a dog. I asked him for one.”
“And what did Father say?” she asked.
“He said I could.”
And he went to the stable instead of finding a dog? Noll must have been very upset by their father indeed.
“Do not blame yourself,” she said, almost angrily. “Do not blame Father either. You loved Bates. I did. Rosalynne did. Even the wet nurse did. I can tell. The Fates must have loved him too.”
“The Fates can go ahead and cut my life short and give my life to Bates,” Noll said.
Vivian could not stop herself. She slapped Noll.
“Do no say that!” she cried. “We have lost our mother and the baby. If we lose you too, I fear we will all be lost.”
Noll rolled his eyes and turned his back to her so he could look out the window once more. “Father would not weep for me.”
“Rosalynne and I would. Is that not reason enough for you to stay here with us?”
“I suppose,” he said sullenly.
“Do you want a horse too?” Vivian asked. She was still shocked by his departure for the stable.
“No. Not really. Maybe. I just… I wanted to run away. That was why I went to the stable. But there was no stable hand there, and I didn’t know how to attach the saddle. If I had…”
“No. No, Noll. Please.” She tugged on his arm. “You must promise me you’ll stay. I cannot bear the thought of losing you.”
He yanked his arm free. “You slapped me.”
“Yes,” she said slowly.
“You yell at me. You scold me.”
She bit her trembling lip and did her best not to cry. “I just wanted you to act more like a prince. I’m sorry. I… I’m not perfect. I never meant to hurt you. It’s just that I’ve been scared lately.”
“Scared of what?” he asked gruffly.
“Mother died here. Aldith too. A few of the maids have died here over the years too. Until today, it’s been mostly females. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to leave you or Rosalynne. I don’t want there to be any more deaths.”
“The vicar would say that death is a part of life. It’s necessary.” Noll frowned. “Wouldn’t he say that?”
Vivian almost laughed. She wiped away a few tears that had managed to fall despite herself. “Yes, yes, he would but not now. Not for a long time. And your running away would be like a death too. You can’t, Noll. Promise me you’ll stay.”
“You love me?” Noll asked.
She gaped at him, horrified that he had to ask. Then, she hung her head in shame. She hadn’t said as much in a long while.
“Yes, Noll. I love you.”
“I’ll stay,” Noll said. He continued to stare out the window.
She slid forward to stand beside him. The frantic nature of the servants below them preparing for yet another funeral service saddened her. All of them were scrambling, rushing about, and they could. They could walk. They could talk. They could breathe. Bates could not. He had never learned how to walk. He hadn’t even been able to crawl yet. He had babbled, but he hadn’t yet said his first true word, and now, he never would.
A full half hour passed with the two of them wordlessly watching the people below. Finally, Vivian could no longer bear the silence, and she slipped away.
It did not take her long to reach Atlan. After all, the castle itself was within the direct center of the city. It took far more time for her to find a family that had puppies they were looking to get rid of.
Vivian stared at the four bundles of fur. “How much?” she asked.
“They are free,” the father said gruffly. “We don’t want them. Too many mouths to feed as it is. We’ve tried to throw them out onto the streets, but they keep coming back. Need the mother because she helps to round up the chickens, but these pups, no thank you.”
“Please. Let me pay you.”
The mother shook her head. She had two young girls on either hip, the lasses maybe a year old, clearly twins. “We aren’t charging anyone for them, lest of all a princess.”
“A princess who can afford to pay and will.” Vivian opened her coin purse and handed the father two copper pieces. It wasn’t much, but she was afraid that he would throw a silver coin back at her. She understood that they were proud people, but they needed aid. Why wouldn’t they accept it from her?
But the father opened his hand and allowed the coins to fall to the ground. She could see that others who were walking by the family’s home were eyeing the coins. If she did not reclaim them, the family would not have the coins because someone else would steal them.
With a sigh, Vivian picked back up the coins. She watched the puppies for a few more minutes. Which one would be best for Noll? One was especially rambunctious, but another was a runt. For whatever reason, the runt reminded her of her brother. Truly, they both did, but she could not dare bring home two puppies. Her father may have agreed to one dog, but he would surely balk at having two.
In the end, she brought home the rambunctious puppy. Noll would have loved them both, she was sure, but runts did not always live. She knew that Noll could not handle another death. This puppy was so very full of life that she doubted the puppy would slow down even once he hit old age.
Vivian brought the dog into the castle and straight away to Noll’s room. He was not there, and she hid behind a heavy green curtain, waiting for him to arrive. Thankfully, she did not have to hide for long. Only minutes passed before Noll entered. She had placed the puppy on his bed, but the puppy had already fallen off and had been chasing his tail in a swift, tight circle.
Noll wordle
ssly scooped up the puppy, cuddled him, and promptly began to cry. Vivian had to wipe away tears too. Sometimes, happiness could follow sadness.
27
Queen Sabine Grantham
A few days had passed since the baby had died, and Sabine felt just terrible over it. Babies were innocent, the last innocents that the world had to offer. So many persons were ambitious, cutthroat, vicious. They would step on the back of others in order to further their own agenda.
Some might even think that about Sabine, and while she had managed to become the king’s wife and would be queen beside him in a week’s time, she would not call herself cutthroat. Certainly, she was not vicious.
At the moment, she was not feeling ambitious in the least. All she longed to do was to make the king feel better about the death of Bates. She could hardly begin to even contemplate how he must be feeling. He had lost two wives and now a son. Sabine’s father had died when she had been only five years old. The two of them, her mother and herself, had clung to each other and not only survived alone, but they had thrived.
Sabine stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked every inch a queen. Paint tinted her lips, and her cheeks had been brushed with powder to make her skin perfectly white. Her blond hair was loose around her shoulders in curls. Her gown was beautiful, but it paled in comparison to the jewels around her neck. The weight of them was heavy, but Sabine loved it.
Since the news of the baby’s passing, Sabine had been wearing either black or brown. Her gown that day was a muted gray, her gemstones black onyx. She hoped the colors of mourning would not be too much for the king. He had refused to see anyone, not even her.
That morning, that would change. She was to be his queen. He would not deny her forever.
Gliding along the hallways, Sabine swayed her way from her quarters to the king’s.
The guards stared at her, passive and immobile.
“Please allow me to see my husband,” she said softly.
“He gave us strict orders to not let anyone in.”
