Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAY
“Horses are very responsive to tone. Be consistent.”
~ How to Tame Your Brumby: A Collection of Raider’s Ban Wisdom
M y back ached, my still-healing ribs were in agony from spending the day moving chests, and my shoulders were tight from the stress that hadn’t unraveled since last night. Victor breaks everyone. And here I was, firmly in his grasp.
“People’re returning from the tourney.” I glanced out the window, wondering if I’d spot Kadan, following Thomas’ gaze. There was proper glass in the huge opening. There was a film of dust on it for now, but I had no doubt that was temporary.
Two days ago, that tourney had been my life’s ambition. Now, all I could think about were my friends, and whether Luca had made it out alive.
“The Duke’ll arrive soon.”
The Butcher of La’Angi. Fury pulsed at my temples. I forced my hands to unlock from where they’d gone to my sword hilt.
“Keep your mouth shut,” Thomas advised me, quietly. “Your shoulders straight, and your eyes ahead.”
Words to survive by.
I could feel the mud between my fingers.
“He’ll open the door with a crash when he comes in,” Thomas went on, stretching out his back. “Expect it. Don’t preempt what he wants unless you’re very sure. He tolerates questions better than failure.”
All good, even wise, information. It swam in my head. Embers knew her way around a knife. She’d held off Wade and landed a blow to Mikus’ knee that had meant the brute hadn’t totally outpaced me, with my broken ribs and my naive heart in my throat.
But no one had mentioned it. You’d think after the bungled assassination attempts and Mikus’ betrayal, that the Butcher would be crowing about his daughter’s prowess. Instead, there was silence.
Had no one seen?
How?
I followed Thomas back downstairs in time to see her emerge from the room I’d rolled the half-cask into that morning. Wet, her hair looked almost black. The bubbly good cheer had faded, and her tawny eyes looked old and sad.
I almost ran into the wall and took a sharp turn to redirect my body down the stairs. I’d come to her rescue, unnecessarily, and now look where that had gotten us.
Would I be allowed to farewell Kadan?
I took hold of another chest of clothes from where it had been dropped off right outside of Audrey’s tower. Its weight was nothing beside the power of my anger. My shoulders ached from holding myself out of that mud.
There were a number of servants coming and going out here, and they all looked a lot less confident than they had earlier in the day.
The reason for their worry loomed, larger than life, as he turned the corner. The Butcher. Servants dropped down into deep curtsies or bows and cast their eyes down. I remembered what Thomas said, but I was holding a chest and wasn’t going to pretend to care for his rules. I’d sworn myself to her.
Mayhap I should’ve let him fill me with crossbow bolts. My spirit could’ve watched over the ensuing civil war as Darrius sought an apology, and Victor refused to give it. The straw that broke the donkey’s back.
Audrey had the Butcher’s jaw, his long mouth, and his eyes, too.
“Come on.” He swept past us, and Thomas jerked his head at me as if I were supposed to understand what that meant. The two men in the black tabard of the Duke’s own guard settled outside the door. I really hoped they didn’t expect me to do that all day while Audrey pottered around in here.
He opened the inner door with an almighty crash that echoed through the tower. Past him, I saw Audrey in a dress that was too tight across her strong shoulders. And despite it, she looked every bit as powerful as her father.
Unease plucked at my heart, and for a moment, I was a child again, looking to hide behind a woman’s skirts.
“Close that, sir Thomas,” the Duke said, coming to a halt before the fire. Behind us, Thomas closed the door obediently. “The situation has changed,” he said to Audrey. I kept my face straight and held the child within me close, away from the Butcher’s searching eyes. “After the assassination attempt by the Southern rebels,” he said to Thomas and I, “and given the changing situation—” a polite euphemism for I’ve realized I can’t trust my own men , I assumed “—I am increasing the security around my daughter.”
The way he said my daughter was the way most men would say my sword or my saddle . She was a thing to him. But at least she was a precious thing. I was just a tool. I breathed around that knowledge and straightened my shoulders, better to protect the boy in my heart.
“Aside from the four of you, there are three servants permitted to enter this tower who you have already met. Anyone else who wishes entry must be accompanied by one or the other of you.” The man’s gaze made the contents of my stomach turn to liquid. “Whilst my daughter is within this tower, you may organize a roster between yourselves as to who is in attendance and when. I expect one of you to always be present. Mistress Isolde, if there is a man present, I expect you to be in attendance regardless of whether it is one of the trusted men or not.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Isolde’s brows were raised as if he’d just issued her an insult. Unease crept up my spine, and respect. She played a close game. And here I was, just hoping he didn’t look too closely.
He acknowledged her words with a brief nod and a modicum of respect I hadn’t anticipated. “If Mistress Isolde is indisposed, the door to my daughter’s chambers remains barred. If my daughter leaves this tower, I expect all of you in attendance. Nineteen years ago, a man gained entry to this tower through deception. He was a Southern rebel.” His eyes rested on me for a moment. I felt the tension in the air like a living creature. “He killed the Duchess and more than half the guard before being dealt with. The guards whose errors cost me so dearly were executed. Not a single person survived that. When I tell you to go with every single man, I expect it to happen.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Thomas said, his words gravelly.
“Sir Chay, if my daughter visits the infirmary, where will you be?”
I was still scrambling to sort through the history he’d just tossed at us as I tried to sift truth from lie from misdirection. “I’ll be in the infirmary, too, Your Grace,” I told him. “In attendance.”
“Sir Thomas, if King James visits, where will you be?”
“If we’re in the tower, Your Grace, I’ll be in attendance,” he said. “Or sir Chay will be, depending on our roster. If he visits out of the tower, I’ll be in attendance.”
“He’d better be out of the tower.” The threat hung in the air. “You know your job well, woman,” he told Isolde. “Do not flag. Anyone’s failure will mean everyone’s death. I expect your presence tonight, child. You two,” his eyes rested on Thomas and I, “see you’re cleaned up. You’ll be in attendance. You are dismissed.”
He swept out, and I allowed myself to fall in behind Thomas once more as he let himself back into the entry chamber. “We’ll get the last of these chests in,” he said brusquely. “Then I’ll go, get us both a black tabard.” He eyed me critically. “Your boots could use a polish, son.”
I looked down at said boots. They were a bit dusty and a bit worn, but they were fine. Was that actually the most pressing thing he’d taken from that tirade? Disoriented, I fell in behind him. And when we returned to the half-assembled room, Audrey, still pale, stood. “While I have you both, this level has traditionally been for guards’ use. It was going to be for me, as they’ve turned the second bunkroom into a sitting room. However, I don’t need all the space, and I like company. This is a shared area.”
Thomas somehow managed a bow around the chest he held. I didn’t bother trying. My ribs weren’t that much better than they had been, and I couldn’t save her damned life if I couldn’t breathe.
In a bid to get the reins back in my hands, I asked Audrey, “Are we going to the banquet tonight?”
Beside me, Thomas shot me a look so shocked that my attention was dragged fully onto him.
“Sir,” he said, his expression become shuttered, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but, for the sake of the lady, I ought to let you know that the Duke?—”
There it was. I cut in, hard, impatient. “My oath isn’t to the Duke. It’s to Audrey.” I wasn’t ending up in that mud.
The blood drained from his face. “They’re one and the same, sir.”
The feral gleam in Isolde’s eyes, the way she shifted ever so slightly to put herself between the door and where Thomas stood, made unease slide under my skin. But my mind was trying to put it all together. Was the Duke the same as Audrey? Was ending up in the mud the same as ending up serving Audrey—who was, herself, either in it already or a hair’s breadth from going down?
I wasn’t keen to mess with a Matri’sion. Even a wounded one. So, erring on the side of caution, I said, “Here was me thinking that we were owned by a grown woman with her own opinions and desires.” And the One help me if the daughter was anything like her father.
Thomas’ mouth opened, closed. Wide-eyed, he looked to Audrey for support. “I don’t own you,” she said, clasping her hands together with enough force her knuckles went white. “And I won’t ask you to split your loyalty, Thomas.”
Split? Mine had been severed and was actively hemorrhaging, and Thomas’ needed to be amputated.
“You’re here,” I told him, viciously. “Because you swore the same oath I did.”
“If you think undermining the Duke’s influence is a good way to protect the lady?—”
For a moment I heard my mother in my head, her words lost to time, just the urgent downward motion of her hand at her side telling me to be silent. “Fuck the Butcher,” I said, but kept the anger from my voice. Despite my dismissive tone, Thomas paled. “My only priority now is listening to the woman I’m bloodsworn to.” But I hadn’t sworn to be sweet and nice and let her bullshit us all. I’d never visited my mother’s grave. I wondered, now, if I should’ve. “Our loyalty is to her above all others, without question.” The words tasted like stale beer. My head throbbed.
“My lady,” he said stiffly to Audrey. “I apologize for my companion. He doesn’t understand how things are done in La’Angi.”
“Understanding and accepting are different things,” Isolde drawled, almost idly. “And here was me thinking we were going to discuss schedules and setting the Watch.”
“My lady, with all due respect, it wasn’t a quarter-hour ago your father was in here reminding us of what happened to your mother.” Thomas looked at me, at Audrey, then to Isolde, pleading, now. “We need to keep you safe, milady,” he added. “You know that means respecting your father’s wishes.”
“I don’t—” she shook her head, those whiskey eyes big and soft and round. “I never intended for?—”
“Intention is irrelevant,” Isolde said, and I folded my arms. The message hit home, and Audrey’s eyes dipped to the ground. It should’ve pleased me that she felt some responsibility over the situation, but instead, irritation gnawed at me. “Look, Audrey, things are moving fast.” She eyed Thomas speculatively. I remembered, clearly, how her eyes had skimmed over the prints in the dust earlier. I hadn’t seen her in action, but when I did, I didn’t want to be on the receiving end. I resisted the urge to step away from Thomas. “If you hear things that go against the Duke’s bidding and don’t help to keep those secrets, you are breaking your oath. You know he’ll harm her.”
Frustration rumbled. I’d gotten myself up and out of the mud. The alternative was a gravestone.
“Stop!” Audrey said, aghast. “Stop, Isolde. Please. We have a banquet to attend, and Thomas’ whole world has been turned around already. Let him be. Have you a wife, sir?”
The word “sir” made him jerk like he’d been branded. “I—I do. And girls. Six of them. One on the way. Probably. My lady.”
Audrey stepped closer, resting a hand on his arm. With eyes big and soft as a doe, she murmured, “I won’t ask you to put yourself in danger. I will ask that you keep my secrets, unless they are too heavy. If you cannot carry them, I can arrange for you to stay at…” her eyes skipped over to Isolde, who shrugged in answer to her silent question. “At your new lands.”
And yet here I was, trapped. Did I need to knock someone up to get some kindness?
His eyes closed. The lines were carved deep into his face. “I—I should go and get us both a tabard. We need to polish up.”
“Of course.”
“Is it your wish to attend tonight’s banquet?” I asked her again.
She sent me a cool look that made me want to snarl. “It is,” she said firmly. “And it is my wish that I follow all of my father’s requirements, as closely as I can, particularly in public. So please, Thomas. Go. And send a runner to your wife, let her know you’ll be home once the meal is done. I won’t be staying to socialize.”
He bowed to her and walked out. He had to walk around Isolde, who didn’t step aside as he left, watching him with unblinking eyes. I heard her drop the bar after him and didn’t move from my spot opposite Audrey.
I deserved to know what he was too much of a coward to hear. It wasn’t like I was allowed to betray her. I could hardly do my job if I didn’t know what I was doing.
She ran her fingers through her wet hair, shaking it out, color creeping up her cheeks. And when Isolde came back, I said, “So, tell me what it is you’re not telling him.” And I waited for tales of how they smuggled out injured women and terrified children for a fresh start elsewhere and sent those who were bloodthirsty back to the Matri’sion tribes.
She just arched her brows and looked me over in assessment. It was probably supposed to be terrifying, but she’d already taken my measure, and we both knew it. She’d at least kill me quickly. “What do you know?”
Bitterness was on the tip of my tongue. I didn’t like its taste. I knew that sometimes to kill the King, first you’d have to kiss the ring. I knew to get out from under the boot, you sometimes needed to press a kiss to it.
I knew I wasn’t going to drown in the mud.
“I know you’ve been lying to Luca.” Who was also bloodsworn to her. I wanted to laugh at the thought, but it wasn’t with mirth. She was gathering a collection of us. “That you’re Matri’sion,” I said of Isolde, and then turned to the woman who held my life in her hands. “And you’re Matri’sion trained.”
Something flickered over Audrey’s face. Worry, warmth. Something like that. Something more. I didn’t want her cursed warmth.
“You’re his friend. Luca’s.”
If that was the most important thing she took from our interactions so far, no wonder we were here now, lambs to the slaughter.
Isolde tilted her head a little, as if I amused her. “You’ve traveled in the Steppes. You know of the prophecy.”
My heart twisted. “The Sweeping Stallion.”
She hummed in agreement. “First, he’ll unite the tribes. Then, he’ll take the known world.”
Except he didn’t give a cuss about the known world or uniting the tribes. He’d figured out pretty quickly the cost of unification was life, and the cost of peace was individuality. He’d opted out.
That didn’t stop the assassins, though. And neither could I, from here.
“He’s not interested,” I said. It was no secret. He’d ensured it. “He says there are enough jokers in power.”
Amusement sparked in Audrey’s eyes. “And you believe him?”
I didn’t laugh with her. “Why wouldn’t I?” The humor in her gaze died a brutal death. Good. She wasn’t allowed to laugh at him. And with that thought, I looked deliberately at Isolde. “You’d know he rode north five years ago, and came home without claiming any of the gifts or fealty offered. This isn’t about Kadan. You’ve secrets,” I acknowledged. “I sure won’t be telling the Butcher.” The repercussions on the woman I was forever linked to would probably kill me…or her father would. “So, what’s the rest?”
“Victor is a monster,” Audrey said, the words cautious, as if this was some dire secret we didn’t all know. “Personally, and as General for Arcanloc.”
I waited for her to go on. She looked at me from those golden eyes, her face unreadable. “And?”
She glanced at Isolde for guidance.
Audrey had no idea. She was just doing what she was told. And, for a moment, I saw myself again, as a boy, looking to my mother.
I made a noise of disgust before I could stop myself, turning away. “Let me know what I’m actually doing once you figure it out.”
“Don’t speak to her like that,” Isolde said icily.
I shook my head more aggressively than I should’ve. “Before you threaten someone,” I told her, going to polish my boots like the good puppy I was, “you need a way to hurt them. And I’ve got nothing left, my lady.”