Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ISOLDE
“Allow no good deed to pass without consequence.” ~ La’Angi saying
I held my tongue until Thomas dropped the bar on the external tower door, locking the whole city out and separating us from what had happened in that hall, and then I rounded on them. Fury pounded through my veins. “How are you still alive?” I demanded, going straight for the throat. “How have your oaths not burned you both to a crisp for taking so long to act?”
Thomas looked at me like he wasn’t really there, but Chay offered me his sword, the blood thick and still gleaming black. “I suppose this doesn’t need cleaning, then.”
Audrey stepped forward. “I’ll?—”
I stepped between her and that fouled blade even as Chay twitched it away. Rage poured through me, barely held within the banks of my will. “No, you will not.” I thrust a pointed finger toward her rooms without thinking, and the stubborn child dug her heels in, her long mouth thin with displeasure.
I didn’t try to fight her on it now. “ You, ” I said, turning that finger on Thomas and shoving it in his chest, blood roaring in my head. “You just stood there. ”
“Isolde,” Audrey began.
“She’s right,” Thomas acknowledged, bowing low to Audrey. “I’m sorry, my lady. I don’t know how it is I survived such poor service, but, oath or not, I’ll not put you in that position again.”
Before she could accept his woodenly offered words, I heard the knocker on the wood right behind Thomas’ back.
Silently, Audrey slipped out, and the two knights moved to allow access to the door, revealing the Captain of the guard and a handful of well-armed men.
“Sir Chay,” the Captain said, stepping into the gap so the door couldn’t be closed to bar him out. “We will be holding you prisoner until your case is viewed by law, acting by Son-given rights of the One, for the violent deaths of at least one child on this day.”
Suspicion coiled in my belly. The Captain had been swifter to punish than he’d been to help, due, in no small part, to Chay’s previous liege lord.
I watched, unimpressed, as he tossed his sword on the ground and sent me a quick glance that was full of accusation, as if this had been my fault.
And it was, partly. I’d known the situation in the hall was trouble. I hadn’t realized how much, though, or how swiftly it would find us.
They didn’t shackle him, but they did strip his tabard and weapons from him. I had no doubt he’d feel their disapproval for his last liege lord before he made it to his cell, and while that knowledge didn’t make me happy, I had bigger issues.
Once he was gone, I turned to Thomas. “You should change your clothes, too.” I looked at Chay’s bloody sword with distaste. “We all ought to bathe, post haste.”
“If it’s in the city…”
It’d be in the bathhouse. I didn’t overly care if Thomas lived or died. As far as I was concerned, he was useless. Still, if he got sick, he’d bring it too close to Audrey. “Ring for it to be sent to your rooms.” He opened his mouth to object, and I said, “No one will come in or out. I’ll go fetch Audrey’s water myself, immediately.”
He obviously didn’t like it. “The Duke’s orders were very clear.”
“You catch that, we’re all dead,” I said bluntly. “You could die, either way. But you know what’s more likely to kill your family, don’t you?”
He did. He’d just witnessed it.
Limbs stiff and feet unsure, he walked away and left me finally, blessedly alone with Audrey.
She was going to be furious if she knew what they’d done to Chay, so I just said, “I’m going to get water. We all need to bathe; I’ve seen to it. There’s no one on the door, so ignore any knocks.”
“He killed children, Isolde,” she said, and the words were hollow. “For me.”
I pushed away the memory of that scream and screams like it. “Yes,” I agreed. And I left her to reflect on that, going to the cubby and ringing the bell, then waiting and schooling myself to patience.
The children had the illness. From all accounts, they would’ve died anyway. Instead, she’d stuck her damned nose in where it wasn’t wanted or needed. Things became complicated when inexperienced people made their way in.
The rope was tugged as it accepted the weight of the bucket, and I began to pull the thickly plaited fabric, lifting the water from the kitchens far below. I knew it would’ve been hot when it went in. It was still steaming when I got it up and poured it into her bath, then returned the bucket to its loop. The weight of it the next time made it clear they didn’t know who’d rung for this bath. I put my back into it, grimly wondering what in the worlds Audrey had hoped to accomplish with that stunt in the hall. Truly, it was evidence of my restraint that I hadn’t asked.
The repetitive task was soothing, and by the time the cask was loaded I was sweating from the exertion, but calmer. I sent the last of the buckets back, sprinkled just a touch of her favorite herbs into the water, and went to find the young fool. She wouldn’t bathe quickly. We’d need to sit with her grief and disillusionment. But mayhap she’d see the wisdom in fleeing tonight.
I’d had the thought so many times before that it didn’t come with a spark of hope, just weariness.
There were always reasons to stay, and she always found them.
In the common room of the tower, she sat in front of the fire, dirty cloth in one hand and Chay’s sword in her other.
Horror burned like bile at the back of my throat. I snatched the rag from her hand, then the sword. Tears were on her cheeks.
She didn’t fight me. “His oath won’t harm him, will it?”
The blood didn’t smell right. I couldn’t put my finger on what it did smell like, but it didn’t smell right. “What?”
“Chay’s.” She stood, dusting off her skirts. “If he leaves, that isn’t harming me, correct?”
That proper tone in a voice thick from crying made my rage spike. “I suppose it depends on how he interprets his own actions.” As far as I could tell, oaths to protect were based entirely on perceived impact, rather than actual impact. It was the only possible way Luca wasn’t dead. “He hasn’t fled, Audrey.”
I regretted the words as soon as I saw hope light her eyes. She drew in a deep breath, and just as swiftly it was extinguished. “He should,” she said, the words like rocks falling into a well. “I know he should.”
She wasn’t wrong. “He’ll get his chance.” If they let him out. “Come on. I’ll clean this.” She’d made a mess of it, but she would’ve gotten there.
“Where is he?” she asked, taking the steps ahead of me. “With the tabard on the ground, and his sword discarded…”
“No one fleeing would willingly leave behind their primary weapon,” I pointed out, but she froze ahead of me, and I knew as soon as she figured out what must’ve happened. “You need to wash, Audrey. You can’t get what that family had.” She opened her mouth to object, and I put myself in the center of the narrow, curling stairwell designed to defend or entrap. “ No. ”
Her resistance collapsed, and fresh tears filled her eyes. She lifted her skirts and hastened to the tub.
I was shocked when she didn’t slam the door behind her. All the same, the fouled blade and I stayed out. And when the damned thing was clean, I tossed the cloth in the fire and kept the sword, hiding it beside my bed. It was too long for me and too heavy, but Audrey’s arms were longer than mine, and she’d always wanted to learn to use one.
Mayhap she’d get the chance.
That night, as I half-expected, she needed time to cry herself out and adjust her worldview to include illness that took babies and guards who’d slay children. She sat with me as I told her tales of the women I remembered, who might be dead or alive, and left her to sleep with swollen eyes and a raw nose, still clutching the sodden handkerchief.
Before dawn was more than a suggestion on the horizon, I was up and letting myself out on silent feet past a lightly dozing Thomas. He was easier to slip past than Chay, who would go to bed but lowered the bar over the door. Thomas had attempted to stay up and hadn’t locked the door.
The castle was equally as simple for me to navigate. I kept to the main halls, as at this time of day, only servants were likely to be stirring. From my basket, I took my wig, slipped it on with a practiced flick, and gave it a quick one-handed fluff before settling my cloak to cover most of it. I encountered no one. One of the small, lesser-used gates was already open, with kitchen maids yawning as they walked into the darkness. I stepped in their shadows. Even before they commenced their work, they smelled of yeast and spices. One of them flicked a big-eyed glance at a guard who gave her a very proper nod and a very improper, long, lingering look as she walked out of his view. I didn’t impede his line of sight, though it left a sour taste on my tongue. Quickly, I peeled away from the servants to make my way to the meeting spot in the stables of a semi-reputable inn that was one of my favorite locations to use.
It was, as ever, busy enough that my entry wasn’t noteworthy, but not so busy that I risked extra attention. The woman I’d come to meet was there, a young, freckle-faced thing with the solid build of a woman who’d worked for her living. I recognized her from the awkward way she stood in the third stall, brushing the horse inexpertly.
I waved her out and saw her double-check the brooch on my cloak, a pretty pink flower with a few gold thorns on the stem. Her caution pleased me. She’d need it, from what I heard.
I rattled around in my head trying to bring up this one’s name, but it slipped away. Young, lower-class, married to a young, middle-class chap—unhappily. His parents controlled everything. She had no horse in any race and was tired of it.
From the way her hand hovered occasionally over her abdomen, she might not simply be thinking of her own future.
“You’ll work on the road,” I told her, my voice low. I knew she’d been told this already, but reminders never hurt. “Cooking, cleaning, mending. The merchant will take you to Ange’s Pass. From there, you’ll need to hunt out the Blue Bower.”
“And find Vanessa,” she said briskly. “Who will help me with the next leg.”
I nodded and reached into my basket, taking out a small pouch and passing it to her before we left the shelter of the stable. “For Vanessa—or to get you out of trouble, if you need it.”
She took it without thanks, tucking it away as we made our way onto the road. Her eyes got stuck on the cobblestones. We walked in silence until we reached the east edge of the market, where one of the merchants I’d worked with for some time was—but so were the La’Angi guard.
I slowed my pace somewhat and curled my shoulders, but the additional tweaks to my disguise weren’t necessary. They paid me no mind and were gone before I’d delivered my charge. The merchant scowled after them. I gathered from his expression this wasn’t a standard bribe-collection trip.
“Morning,” he said to us, still scowling. “Been regretting waiting,” he told me gruffly, hitching his pants. “House down the road from where I was staying was set alight two nights ago. Sickness, they say.” He nodded to the woman. “Good time to be getting out, lass.”
Sickness. The image of those children came as if called by that word. A fist squeezed my chest. Sickness was a foe I couldn’t fight.
But that was a problem for later. I reached into my basket, took out a preserves jar, and passed it over to the merchant, holding it so the gold inside didn’t chime. It was heavy this time—she wasn’t the only woman going with him, just the last to be ready.
“Ah,” he sighed, smiling at me as if I was giving him his favorite marmalade. “Thanking you, my dear.”
Pleasantries died on my tongue. I nodded. The guards had stopped not far into the market and were having some sort of animated discussion. Every now and then a hand would wave this way. “Safe travels,” I murmured, stepping back into the shadows.
It started to rain, soft, slow, and soaking. The merchant and his carts left, not needing to worry whether they’d leave prints in the mud or how long before they washed away.
I glanced back to the woman to check—but, yes, she’d been equipped with a good, fur-lined, oiled cloak. Of course she had. I had a tight, conscientious organization. I waited to make sure the others I knew were scheduled for today were there, too, before it was too late. Sure enough, a young woman, round with child and doing her best to conceal it, walked beside the second cart, a sack over her shoulder and her jaw hard. Behind her, another woman kept looking back from her healing black eyes. My heart squeezed for her. One of the caravan’s guards gestured her on gently with his hand. If he saw the tears on her cheeks, he gave no sign of it.
Go , I thought to her, aching. Go, and start anew.
The rain set in as I turned to return to the keep. I’d stood for longer than I’d meant to but would still make it before sunup.
I’d thought that it would hurt less as time went on. I’d thought that being able to help free others would make my own captivity less horrible. But time wasn’t making it easier.
My feet felt heavy against the cobblestones. I refused to let them drag, though. Audrey had lived this long in this hellhole. I’d undone as much of the conditioning as I could and would continue to support her so she didn’t fall back into the poisonous locways. The big, squat castle atop the cliffs sat like a bloated king on a crumbling throne and, oh, how the black hatred pumped through me.
We could set it afire. Or, better, we could murder the leaders in their sleep, and the city could wake to streets awash with blood. The knowledge pulsed within me. We could do it.
The power locked in my limbs and the hard beat of my heart made me want to charge ahead, when I saw a knot of guardsmen on the side of the road, clearly arguing with one another. A hand cart stood nearby.
I could cut their throats and have them in the cart. I’d still be back in time for no one to miss me.
“…you should do it,” one of them was saying furiously. “You’re the strongest.”
“Yeah, which means I can beat you to a pulp, which means you should do it,” a guard responded.
“Hey,” another said, hope in his words. “Why don’t we get someone else to?”
I lowered my head in the rain. The hot ball of hatred in my soul had its own pulse. I felt eyes on me and deliberately kept my steps short. “What, her?” someone scoffed. “Sure. Let’s get nana to carry half a dozen dead people out here,” he mocked. I heard a short scuffle, a few dull thuds, a muttered curse. “Go. Hurry up.”
The advice wasn’t meant for me, but nonetheless, I followed it, ducking out of sight and picking a winding path back to the castle, my heart beating quickly.
A dozen dead people that the La’Angi guard weren’t directly responsible for was a truly shocking turn of events.
The alleys and backstreets were known to me after so long in this godless place. I kept my head down, and my feet flew over the ground.
How many were dead?
We needed to leave tonight or we needed information, and I knew which it was going to be. How was the illness spreading, what treatments had been tried? I flexed my fingers in my gloves and felt the bite of the cold, wet leather. Bad weather for a sickness. If it snowed this year, travel would be hard. The ground would already be hard to turn. If many graves were needed, they’d be in trouble.
Thomas started when I came in, waking with a half-choked snore and blinking tired eyes in the dark hollows of his face. As I looked up from the handle of the door, I realized my wig was still partly visible in the basket on my arm. Furious with myself, I flicked my cloak back over my shoulders and exaggerated the arch of my back so that like magework, his eyes dropped to my breasts. He wouldn’t notice how wet the rest of me was. I swept past him with a toss of curls and a smirk none of them ever understood.
Some guard he was.
Audrey was stirring when I got in. I laid out my wet cloak and boots, then threw another log on the fire. We were ready to flee at a moment’s notice, but we’d been that way for years. I had three caches of weapons, clothing, and coin.
I wondered, as I drew back the curtains with a ruthless flick, what her bloodsworn guards would do if we left.
Simplest to silence them.
She half-rolled, half-fell out of bed, her grace stripped from her by the nightmares stalking her sleep. I went to my own room and swapped out my plain dress, then took a scarf to try to contain my hair, at least for a time. I met her in the training room. The space wasn’t fancy, but we weren’t fancy people.
We didn’t need to be fancy to take down the Butcher. We needed to be strong.
We sat together in silence, hands on our bellies. I breathed deeply and turned my attention inward to the feel of the coldness of the air on my nostrils, the strength in my stomach as it forced my hands up, the deflation as the air left me. I ran my mind slowly over my body as it took over the deep, healing breaths. I assessed the strength of every joint, every muscle. My feet were cold, but strong—my calves a little tight today. My knees might stick when I stand, but my thighs would carry me forever. When I was done with my assessment, when my mind was firmly on my own flesh and blood, anchored to this reality, I let myself belong, for a time, in that space of calm. And when I had to break the calm, I did so gently and respectfully. To have come so far and done so much, my body deserved no less. I stretched those trustworthy sinews and muscles out patiently, preparing them for training.
Audrey took longer than usual to do the same today. It didn’t surprise me. While waiting for her, I went on to strengthening exercises I could do myself. Once she was ready, we started with basic combat drills that we could both do in our sleep. I watched her move, the way she shifted her weight, the angle of her fist, the set of her shoulders. We broke apart silently. I held out a hand, and she tapped it gently. Fight, begin .
I leaped at her, and she caught me, gripping me hard so I couldn’t overwhelm her. We grappled together, a friendly but earnest competition. We sparred, rested, and sparred again. We fought on our feet, with quick strikes that never hit hard. We fought on the ground, using limbs as levers and joints as locks.
“Drink,” I said after we broke apart, wiping the sweat off my brow with my arm.
We rested for a time. She returned with the staffs we often practiced with, and we ran through drills for a time. The monotony of it let my brain relax even as my body hummed with strength awoken. We could’ve pushed harder, but this was a marathon, not a sprint. We took our time.
Our routine eventually carried us back out of the training room, though I’d have preferred to stay there, in that place where problems and time seemed suspended. I took a seat before the fire while we broke our fast together, listening to its happy crackle absently as I watched Audrey.
She was clearly deep in thought. There was no point waiting, but still, I held what I knew a little longer than I could have, letting her finish her meal before explaining what I’d seen.
It didn’t take her long to make the same links I made. If guardsmen began to refuse to deal with bodies, it would mean they’d sit on the street. The illness would spread. And, just as deadly, if they refused orders, they then were marked as dissident and had no cause to follow any orders.
She paced, digesting the information. We didn’t discuss it at length. I saw her glance at the window—at the length of shadows. “Passable day to visit the market.”
She hadn’t asked what I’d been doing. There was nothing to discuss. We both understood that.
“Do you need to see it yourself?” I asked her, holding the sting of hurt at bay until I knew it was warranted. It wasn’t like Audrey to interrogate the truth of my words. Not like this.
“I do if I’m going to take it to Steward Daniel,” she said, the words laden with the promise of conflict.
So, she wanted to go to the top. I wondered if that was because she didn’t know the power of the people. “The market would be risky. We’d be better to ride. We could tour the orchards with the guards.” If I could convince her to flee, mayhap I could kill her guards and hide them in barrels of apples or some such.
I was pondering how much effort it would be to dispose of Mortemon and Thomas when Audrey said crisply, “I’ll need Chay to go far.”
“Why?” I asked, suspecting she’d be happier to feed the La’Angi men to the fish.
She just sent me a level look. I paused, assessing the darkness under her eyes, remembering how her bed had creaked and groaned as she tossed last night, and wondered how close to a lie I could ride this omission.
The words to deflect her died on my tongue, though. I couldn’t do it. I hated that I couldn’t, because I knew what would come next. Aside from anything else, I knew she wouldn’t forgive me for it.
“I assume you’d need to order the Captain to arrange his attendance.” They wouldn’t have executed him yet.
Her mouth popped open, horrified. I was glad to see fury, not tears, in her eyes. Even tears would’ve been okay. Fury and tears meant the day would be useless.
“They held him?” she demanded.
“I should have told you,” I admitted. “You assumed, and I let you.”
“Isolde,” she said slowly, as if she picked out every single syllable with deliberation, “no one else will ever hold your place in my heart. But my heart has space to hold others.”
The knife hit home. She lifted her skirts and climbed the steps rapidly. I remained behind, teeth gritted against the pain.
I wasn’t jealous of those louts. I knew how little they had to offer and what a burden they’d be, but I wasn’t jealous.
It was easier for her to assume the worst of me than to acknowledge she was going to put us all in danger by delaying further.
I caught the cloak she tossed at me and threw it over my shoulders, but I stopped her before she could storm off. “People are dying,” I reminded her. “They died on his sword yesterday, but they also died at the hands of a mage trained to heal, and from the sickness. It’s spreading. We don’t know how fast. We could already have it.”
“Then we’d best stay where people are motivated to find a cure,” she said, her tone as steely as my own. “My father will be gone for years, Isolde. You said it yourself. The winter will make the roads harder for our pursuers, but it’ll make them harder for us, too. We decided against cutting through Ange’s Pass this late in the season, so there’s nothing to be gained for leaving tonight instead of in two moons’ time.”
Nothing? “Distance from sickness is not nothing,” I hissed. “Freedom is not nothing !”
She pressed her fist to her chest, her long mouth twisted in a bitter line. “Freedom is here, Isolde. That’s what you taught me. They can’t take it from us until they bleed us dry.”
The knife twisted. I heard her go, and for once I wasn’t a half-step ahead.
My future stretched out before me, bleak. Heavy stone walls, rules that ate at our souls, petty, meaningless battles that would never be enough to disrupt the locways.
Chilled to my bones, I looked out the window at the patch of blue in the sky, but the wind hastened it out of sight, to be replaced by heavy clouds.
I wasn’t wrong about her. I knew what she could do.
I just wanted her to do it.