A War of Three Kings (Dying Lands #2)

28. Keira

Chapter 28

Keira

I t feels wrong to be up here, in this beautiful palace of marble that overlooks the city of Windkeep Stronghold, while chaos unfolds beneath us. Lord Adalwolf’s residence is one of opulence, with mosaic artwork inlaid in the floor, gold trimmings adorning the ornate stucco vines on the walls and many gurgling indoor fountains.

Immense glass windows reach from ceiling to floor in this audience chamber that sits at the highest point of the city. They are needed. At this height, the severe winds could blow a person right off a courtyard garden or out a window on a bad day.

I ignore the war council members as they funnel into the room and take their seats at the broad oak table in the center of the space. I focus on the view below as tension ripples through my shoulders, making me clench and release my hands as I itch for action.

The city sprawls out in all directions in an intricate maze of roads and squat, white buildings with flat roofs. The streets are over-packed with the soldiers of our army, many setting up their tents in parks or wherever they can find a strip of space. But it is not this chaos that has my anxiety rearing its ugly head.

Beyond the city, past the fields and woods, huge channels of black smoke contrast against the bright blue of the morning sky. Villages are being razed to the ground. How many deaths do those bonfires represent? How many homes, businesses and livelihoods are destroyed? All for one man’s wounded pride. Because Finan couldn’t handle my rejection.

“Shall we begin this session of the war council?” my father says.

I turn from the window to the full table, noting only my grandmother is missing. I join them, taking a seat at Aldrin’s side and slipping my hand over his on top of the table, squeezing it a moment and sharing a glance with him before letting it go. Only Countess Lynna notices our exchange and her black eyebrows raise almost to her hairline.

“It is obvious the mad king’s forces are taking the eastern route to Appleshield, burning the villages as they go.” Lord Tomas’ pudgy cheeks ripple as he speaks and spittle flies from his lips. He throws out an arm toward the east, as though we all haven’t noticed the sight out that window.

My father pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can we wait to hear what Drake and Zinnia discover?” he says, tipping his head to indicate both fae.

“It shouldn’t take long to throw our consciousness out to the enemy.” Drake gives the room his classic cocky smile, the one that reaches his eyes and crinkles his silver face tattoo of a tree. “Not with that army being so near.”

He unbuttons his cloak and drapes it across the ground, preparing to prop himself against a corner where two pillars meet. Zinnia does the same, but as she moves to sit on the floor, Lord Adalwolf launches out of his seat and grips her arm.

“What are you doing? You can’t sit on the ground!” A red flush of embarrassment creeps up his face and over his bald scalp. “You’re my guests. It would be a dishonor!”

He is so flustered that he doesn’t notice the dark look Zinnia shoots at his fingers around her arm. Her eyes flick to his face. “We need to sit somewhere that won’t have us falling and hurting ourselves when we leave our bodies.”

“The chairs! At the table! Take mine if there isn’t enough, but don’t sit on the ground like a beggar.” Lord Adalwolf all but drags Zinnia to a seat beside Cyprien and pushes her into it, despite how she looks like a riled-up cat. Then he shoots an anxious look at Drake to make sure he does the same.

It is almost comical to witness the bear of a man so stressed, especially when little seems to fluster Lord Adalwolf. I struggle to hold back a grin.

Drake pulls out a chair, his eyes glittering as they land on Aldrin. “Will you protect my honor while I travel?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t fall flat on your face, though a knock to the head might do you some good.” Aldrin smirks at him.

“I’m not sure I should trust you.” Drake dumps himself in the seat. “Keira, make sure he doesn’t put a bruise or two on my pretty face.”

I roll my eyes at him. “I don’t think he would risk Klara’s wrath like that.”

Drake shrugs. “I don’t know about that. He’s been on the pointy end of her rage enough times. It’s you he doesn’t want to disappoint.” He cracks his neck from side to side as he gets comfortable. Everyone around the table stares at our exchange with wide eyes.

“Stop mouthing off, Drake, and get to work,” Aldrin cuts in, flicking his wrist and looping air wields around both Drake and Zinnia, tying them to their chairs so they cannot fall forward when they leave their bodies.

“Shame you can’t put a gag on him.” Cyprien drums his fingers on the table as he considers Drake.

“Don’t tempt me,” Aldrin shoots back.

Lynna claps her hands together and lets out a loud cackle, her entire face lighting up and making her look younger than her late thirties. “Oh, Keira, I can see how you became fast friends with these ones! And maybe a little more with?—”

“Can we get back to the war we are planning? Please!” my father cuts in.

Lynna shoots me a mischievous glance, as though we are two young girls with juicy secrets to share.

The silence stretches out as Drake and Zinnia lower themselves into trances. The only sound is Caitlin crunching on an apple on my other side. First, their bodies slouch, and then their heads loll to the side. All the tension leaches from their muscles and Aldrin wields more ropes of air to stop them from sliding out of their chairs.

“Are we supposed to just believe whatever these fae say?” Lord Tomas feigns a whisper to Lord Bradford, glancing sidelong at the pair, as though he has forgotten both Aldrin and Cyprien are at my side.

A black rage flashes to a swift boiling point within me, bursting out all at once. I stand rapidly, almost toppling my chair to the ground, and slam my hands on the table. “ Enough , Lord Tomas! I am sick of hearing your constant slurs and disrespect toward our allies.”

A smile grows on his face, like this is the reaction he wanted. “And why is that, my dear? Have you perhaps become over-involved with one of the fae?”

His eyes slide to Aldrin, and it only pitches my fury higher. I want to murder anyone who makes him feel even slightly uncomfortable, the consequences be damned.

Aldrin places a calming hand on my arm and motions for me to take my seat. We have work to do before I derail this entire session with that particular announcement.

“What purpose would we have in lying to you?” Aldrin sounds bored as he crosses his arms in front of his muscular chest, his biceps rippling. “Did we not prove our loyalty to this alliance on the battlefield already?”

“I don’t know how fae minds work,” Lord Tomas says.

“Clearly,” Cyprien grunts.

“It’s funny, Tomas—I don’t remember seeing you on the battlements during the battle,” Aldrin growls. “Perhaps you’d like to take a place beside me in the next? You can question my loyalty after you fight at my side.”

“Lord Tomas, don’t antagonize our friends here.” Countess Lynna rolls her eyes at him, happy to disregard his constant prejudice.

It is Lord Bradford who leans in toward the smaller man, frowning deeply. “Would you insult any of our other allies in this manner? Are battles not fought over lesser slights? You are either with us all or against us all, Lord Tomas. Like it or not, you have chosen your side in this war, and it is in partnership with these good fae.” He turns to Aldrin, sunlight dancing across the silver strands in his dark hair. “Do not mistake Lord Tomas’ attitude to reflect those of the rest of us.”

A deep red shade turns purple across Lord Tomas’ face and his mouth works as he stammers. I realize it is not Lord Bradford’s words that elicits this reaction in him, but the simmering death glare that Aldrin pins him beneath—narrow-eyed, unblinking, brimming with violence. I forget just how imposing he can be, dark eyebrows slashed downward and lips pressed into a thin line.

“Do I need to throw you out of this meeting, Tomas?” my father cuts in. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have a voice in this war if all you use it for is to sow discord.”

A deep satisfaction fills me as the lord jolts at my father’s words.

“It is a deception.” Drake’s distant murmur cuts through the tension in the room. We all lean in toward him.

“They burn the eastern villages to draw our attention.” Zinnia’s toneless voice is a little louder. “Three warbands. A party of thirty soldiers on horseback in each.”

My heart clenches painfully as sorrow floods me. The people of those villages have no training, weapons or warning, and the townships are so far apart in that region that they would have no chance of grouping together.

“The main army is attempting to pass us without our detection,” Drake intones. “To take a strategic position and wait in the North, then muster more forces from the South. Many in their command are speaking of it.”

“Do you know where they are heading?” My father’s knuckles turn white where he grips the edge of the table.

“No.” Drake’s eyes move rapidly beneath his closed lids, as though he is scanning something. “A fortress. One that is both near and unoccupied. In ruins.”

My father glances at Lord Adalwolf, then to me.

“Wenchwick Hold,” I say, and Adalwolf nods in agreement. “It has to be the remnants of Wenchwick Hold. The outer wall and the moat are still intact, even if the main building is not.”

“It was never repaired after the fae destroyed it and slaughtered the human occupants in the Great War, if I remember correctly.” Lord Tomas tries to send Aldrin an accusatory glare, but shrivels up as soon as their eyes meet again.

A strong temptation overwhelms me to pluck the apple out of Caitlin’s hands and throw it at his head, but she is constantly hungry because of her pregnancy and I wouldn’t deprive her of food.

“Sure. Hold us personally responsible for something our ancestors did five hundred years ago.” Aldrin turns his back on the man, facing me. “How long would it take the enemy to get there? The last thing we need is a pincer attack between two forces.”

“It’s a three-day ride from here, unencumbered.” I glance at Lord Adalwolf, who agrees.

Aldrin doesn’t take his eyes off me.“Drake, where is the army now?”

“Recouping, just south of here,” Drake murmurs. “They will take a route that swings far to the west, circumventing the city, believing we look east.”

“It is settled, then.” My father drains the wine from his goblet. “We travel north to harry the main army and pick them off before they can reach Wenchwick Hold.” He slams the cup back down and the sound echoes through the room.

“We do not have enough soldiers! They bested us when we had an entire fortress.” Lord Tomas glances around the room, and my stomach sinks as others mumble their agreement.

“They merely outsmarted us,” Caitlin snaps, pointing at him with the blade she is using to cut her apple. “But they have played their hand now and we know what we are dealing with. There will be no time for them to tunnel or set up explosives if we catch their tail immediately.”

Icy dread runs through me at the idea of another battle.

Aldrin and Cyprien whisper beside me, then Aldrin ventures, “We can pledge more fae.”

Cyprien scrutinizes each person around the table before elaborating. “When I left my realm, Lord Cedar agreed to muster one hundred fae to cross into this land to join the war, held in reserve. If we force a battlefield of our choosing, I can meet you upon it with reinforcements.”

“And what would this Lord Cedar want in compensation for his help?” Lord Bradford asks.

“Lord Cedar is a shrewd businessman.” Cyprien raises his hands out to his sides. “The mere opportunity to negotiate with humans would be enough for him. Besides, he will take any opportunity to get himself back into Lord Aldrin’s graces.”

The gazes of the lords and countess fly straight to Aldrin, as if realizing for the first time that he is a powerful man in his realm. My heart flutters at some of the appraising looks he receives.

“If you are inviting in more fae, make sure they have water magic.” My grandmother’s voice has us all turning in our seats as she enters the room late with a druid in tow. She pins a hard gaze on him. “Tell the council what you told me.”

The druid wrings his hands as his eyes dart from one noble to another. “I have been testing the muskets and black powder taken from the enemy. We found the guns do not fire when the black powder in their barrels gets wet. The same applies to their bombs. It is very interesting alchemy.”

“That is enough, Goddrick.” My grandmother snaps her fingers at him and points to the door. “We will find you if we have more questions.”

She takes the empty seat beside my father while the druid scurries out.

“Now, Aldrin, you spoke of bringing in more fae?” she says. “There are hidden portals to the fae realm a day’s ride from Wenchwick Hold. They can be used to get the new recruits into position before the battle.”

We spend an age mapping out battle tactics. How we will harry the enemy until they fall into the exact valley we select for the fight, carefully planning the three attack forces we will squeeze them between and the line of retreat to the south we want to force them down.

A heavy fatigue falls upon all of us as the meeting draws to a close, the details of our next attack firmly set. Many start to rise as my father finally clears his throat. My heart begins to race, because I know exactly what he is going to say. It was a passionate conversation with him, to say the least, to get him to accept and agree to this.

“There is one last order of business. A solidification of our alliance and future trade prospects with the fae of the Spring Court, but more importantly, a match of the heart against all odds.” My father runs a hand through his hair, then sends a doting glance my way. “I would like to announce my daughter Keira’s betrothal to Lord Aldrin.”

The room explodes with voices all speaking over the top of each other. My mind whirls at the sudden onslaught and I struggle to process the tone of each one.

Some priestesses offer well wishes. Lords Bradford and Adalwolf air concerns about how such an announcement will affect the war effort and morale of the soldiers, while Caitlin, my grandmother and Cyprien yell at them. Tomas looks like he might burst a blood vessel while Countess Lynna is a mess of tears and huge smiles.

My gaze darts from one side of the room to the other. I try to follow each thread of conversation, to think up replies and retorts, but I fail drastically. My breaths come in short, rasped gasps.

Aldrin grabs my chin and forces me to look into his eyes. “Block out the noise, Keira. We only need each other, and no one else’s approval.”

He kisses me hard on the lips in front of everyone, the moment stretching out until I can only sense him. His taste, earthy scent and warmth. My heart rate slows by the time he pulls back slightly and smiles.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that in the open.”

My heart flutters and swells with love at the nearness of him. At his sheer boldness and constant display of devotion. My head is still spinning when he turns to the room, now dead silent. They all stare at us.

“This war is not about Keira, and you all know it,” Aldrin announces. “Our army has not amassed for one woman, so it doesn’t matter whether she dedicates her life to the temple or to me as my wife. Sure, it started with your mad king trying to force a woman to his bed, to steal her from the Mothers of Magic, but the true crime you are fighting against is whether a king can kidnap women. It doesn’t matter if they are daughters, wives or priestesses, or whatever else he might desire. Keira will not live half a life because of that man. Your own High Priestess proves that a Mother of Magic can also have a husband and a child, and hold titles.”

Many of the people around the table nod, but a few still look conflicted. I glare at them, so sick of this. “I will not allow Finan to dictate my life, not even indirectly.”

“If you are concerned about what we will tell the troops,” my father cuts in, “it will be that King Finan cannot march into the North and take whatever he pleases. Lord Desmond has already threatened to steal land, and the rape and pillage has already begun. That is what we are fighting against.”

“And most importantly…” Caitlin slices another apple with a throwing dagger, popping a slice in her mouth before she continues speaking. “No one has the right to tell a woman who she should marry and when. I’m sure you agree with me, Lynna. You too, Tomas. I’m sure you wouldn’t want anyone outside of your household forcing your daughter into a marriage or complete servitude of a temple.”

“I doubt anyone inside my household could convince Amelia to do anything she doesn’t want to do,” Lord Tomas grumbles.

“Caitlin, I never knew you were such a romantic.” A coy smile fills Lynna’s pretty face and my sister shrugs in response.

My father stands, pulling on his cloak and buttoning it up. “My daughter’s engagement is not open for any further discussion. This meeting is adjourned.” Others stand, collecting maps and murmuring in hushed conversation.

“Hold on. Hold on!” I stare at them with disbelief as they turn to me. “What about the villagers to the east? We cannot leave them to their fate. Those lands are being pillaged and raped and burned, are they not, Zinnia?”

“They are.” Her voice is flat.

I shake with rage. “Finan does this in all our names. Those people should not be left to his torment. It is our job as nobility to protect them.” I can’t help the snarl that curls my lips as I take in each person. Lord Adalwolf has the decency to look embarrassed, considering they are his people.

“We are short on soldiers as it is, Keira,” Lord Bradford says gently.

“A band of thirty soldiers taken from our ranks won’t make the difference to us in the next battle. But if they ride across the countryside and recruit local hunters as they travel, it could mean survival for those villagers. It could stop the slaughter.” I turn to Lord Adalwolf. “Take them from your city guard. There are more than enough soldiers here to hold the walls after we leave.”

“I will see that it is done.” Lord Adalwolf says.

As the war meeting breaks up and the members funnel out of the room, my grandmother comes to my side, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it. There is such a contrast between our skin. Mine is smooth and freckled. Hers is a maze of wrinkles and blue veins that stick out.

“You remind me so much of your grandfather, Ronan. He would have sacrificed resources to protect the villagers as well.” Her eyes glaze over. “You inherited his good heart, Keira. Never let anyone corrupt it.”

“Do you still miss him?” I ask, glancing over at Aldrin and wondering how anyone could continue living after the love of their life has passed on.

“Every single day. My son and grandchildren may not be Ronan’s direct bloodline, but his nature is potent in all of you, because he raised our family to be like him.” She gives me a sad smile.

There is some of my grandfather’s blood in me, because my mother descends from his cousin’s line. It is common when a lord takes the child of a magic pregnancy that the child later marries back into their father’s family to pass on his blood to the next generation.

“He is a good man, despite being fae.” My grandmother shatters my thoughts. Shock splashes through me when I realize she is looking at Aldrin, who crouches between Drake and Zinnia, wiping a damp cloth across their faces to help them return to their bodies. “Does he make you happy? Treat you well?”

“He does. Can you not see it?” I ask incredulously.

“I can, which is why I accept him as a match for you.” She lets out a long breath. “Thank you for proving me wrong. That not all fae are evil. Deep down, I knew this, but it was the only way I could handle the trauma of what Nissien did to me. He was a good person in his own way—good to me, at least—until he wasn’t. That broke my trust for all of his people, because I couldn’t reconcile the two sides of him. I have spent my entire life struggling with fury and bitterness because he forced me to kill him, a man I loved so viciously. One who was trying to protect me, but in the most toxic sort of way. Some nightmares can never be put to bed.”

Her hand tremors lightly in mine. I place my other hand on top of it. “Don’t make Aldrin pay for the sins of another man.”

“I won’t. Not anymore.” My grandmother pulls away and stalks from the room.

I am left watching Aldrin as he gently pours wine from a goblet between Drake’s parched lips while his eyes slowly blink open. I am flooded with love for this man who fights for his people with brutal ferocity, and is also capable of such gentle kindness.