Chapter 16 Stefano
STEFANO
Iwiped the sweat from my brow with my forearm and leaned on the handle of the axe, considering the large stack of logs I’d already chopped, and the even larger pile of branches I hadn’t yet.
After returning to the Burrow with all of the herbs and plants requested, plus a heap of wolf skins for making into blankets, rugs and warm winter clothing, the rebels had put both me and Morgaine to work.
She was mixing tonics and poultices for the Infirmary, while I chopped firewood and lugged sacks of flour down through the trapdoor and to the kitchens.
All the manual labour had given me plenty of time to think about the failed ritual, and how I would get through the next month until the new moon when we could attempt it again.
I’d gone over the whole thing in my mind non-stop since that night.
We’d done everything the book said, by the letter.
We hadn’t made a single mistake. Our pronunciation of the incantation had been perfect, I was sure of it. So, what had gone so wrong?
Maybe the ritual had worked, maybe the bond was broken and Morgaine had tricked me into believing we were still connected so she could escape at the opportune moment.
Or perhaps she’d changed the spell at the last moment and was waiting for the curse to kill me.
The witch could have been up to anything and I would have no idea.
The dark mark on my chest had now spread to two handspans, and it throbbed painful at intervals. Whatever the ritual had done, it hadn’t so much broken the bond as damaged it, and I feared if we failed again on the next new moon, we would both die.
I couldn’t let that happen. We had to get it right next time so I could watch Morgaine burn for what she’d done to me.
An uncomfortable sensation twisted in my gut, and I did my best to ignore it. I could not allow myself to go soft. Not now.
I finished chopping the wood and picked up the sack to carry it back down to the Burrow, when Friar Tuck appeared, looking breathless. The man must have weighed as much as an ox, his round face was a shade of purple beneath his tonsure.
“Dante,” he said when he reached me. “Little John asked me to fetch you.”
I frowned. “What is it?” Had I taken too long with the wood, was there some other task they needed me to do urgently?
Being ordered around by these second rate revolutionaries was beginning to wear thin, and I wasn’t sure I could take another month of this—let alone the forced proximity to my enemy, Morgaine the Wicked.
“There’s a meeting,” Tuck said, glancing around as though someone may be listening in. “About the mission. You’re needed.”
Ah, the attack on the castle. I thanked the friar and hurried back to the Burrow with my day’s work slung over my shoulder. When I reached the meeting room I was directed to, Will opened the door and ushered me inside.
“We have decided on a date for the mission,” John said as I sat down.
“When?” I asked.
“Two nights’ time,” Will replied. I almost barked a laugh, but thought better of it. I could see from their grim expressions that they were serious.
I shook my head. “It’s too soon. We're not ready.”
“It’s our only chance,” John said. “The prince is hosting a hunting party followed by a feast, the guards and servants will be distracted. It’s our best option.”
“But what about the training? And do we have enough explosives and weapons?”
“We will do the best we can over the next two days, and then it will have to be enough,” said John. “This is it, we have to move now. Before any more of us die of hunger and exhaustion.”
I’d been caught off-guard by this announcement; I had been hoping the bond would be broken before the castle invasion.
How would I take part in the attack—and there was no way I could get out of being involved when I was the only one with intimate knowledge of the inside layout—and keep an eye on Morgaine at the same time?
The bond made it painful for us to be physically separated, but there would be no reason for her to join us.
I ran a hand through my hair and cleared my throat before responding.
“We will need to bring at least one healer along with us. There will be injuries, even casualties, and it would be safest to have someone there who knows how to treat wounds.” If I couldn’t convince them to postpone, and it seemed as though I couldn’t, I would have to take her with me and lock her in the dungeons while we sacked the castle.
Or rather, while I sabotaged the rebels’ plan and used it to make my own grab for power. I almost felt guilty, the rebels had been kind to me, but this wasn’t personal.
When the attack began, I would slip away as soon as possible and raise the alarm; it would be easy with me knowing exactly what they were planning.
And having suggested most of it myself. There would be some loss of life, that much was inevitable.
Regrettable, but inevitable. A small sacrifice to secure my future as Prince John’s heir and ruler of the Royal Forests.
I would make sure Morgaine was spared, and as soon as the bond was broken she would face the same fate as her sister witches. It was no more than she deserved, and no less than she would do to me, given half the chance. I was sure of it.
The meeting room door burst open then, and Millie’s face appeared, her cheeks rosy and her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“A wagon has just arrived with new recruits. Come and help.”
We all stood and followed her out, heading down the corridor towards the great hall.
The sound of excited chatter reached us as we neared, and I could see a large crowd had gathered.
Morgaine was there, the sight of her making my blood boil.
But the expression on her face was joyful, sending a twisting feeling into my gut.
Until I followed her gaze and saw what had brought her such delight.
Her sister witches stood in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by excited rebels. Sal and Lavender.
Alive.