Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAY
“As the twig bent, the tree grew.” ~ Southern saying
“H ave you a moment?” Audrey asked Kaelson, though she’d been called to his office.
“Of course, my lady.” He waved her in, and I followed after her, closing the door gently. “I’ve been meaning to put together a report for you.”
She waved it off. “Report when you need me or want to celebrate. Daily running I don’t need to hear about, unless it pleases you to share it.” Kaelson’s face didn’t falter from its polite lines as she spoke. “I won’t waste your time. We’ve had thieves taking too heavily from the larder. I’m opening up the mess hall to anyone who’d like to access it, but I want to secure the kitchens, and we need to reclaim some of the hoarded food.”
Kaelson nodded, regret in his face. “I like that move, my lady. It ought to help some. Better if we could deliver food to those who need it. We had the men to do that a moon ago. I don’t know if we’ve even got enough to put a decent guard on the larder, though.”
It wasn’t what Audrey wanted to hear, but to her credit, she heard it nonetheless. “Can I recruit people from the public?” she asked. “Have someone with integrity tracking it?”
He shrugged. “It’s the same issue, my lady.”
She looked down at her hands, and I stood, as useful as ever, holding a shield in the doorway. Everything was unraveling, and here she was, trying to hold onto only the best parts of a pattern she hadn’t chosen herself. I wasn’t a monster. I respected that.
“Can you see any way forward?” she asked him.
He shook his head slowly. “Declare the kitchens open. Ask for donations of supplies to be shared or offer to trade uncooked for cooked. Lock what we have securely. It’s the best we can do.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” she said. “Do you think, if I loaded up some wagons and sent them around with bread, that they’d be safe?”
Kaelson hesitated. “Today? Probably. But next week?”
Beneath the desk, where he wouldn’t see, she was strangling her hands together. Her voice was perfectly even as she asked, “What if I paid volunteers to transport people? Instead of taking the food to people, I could bring people to the food. The castle needs staff, so I’d have work for folks.”
“Bernadette told me she’s shorthanded,” Kaelson agreed. “Run it past her, but I’m in favor.”
“If we need to fall back into the castle, it’ll simplify things,” she noted.
His expression was as neutral as hers. “It will, my lady. And…I had considered that may need to happen before the spring, unless a regiment returns early.”
“Have you requested that?”
“I have.”
She nodded. “Thanking you. It’ll add weight to my own request for immediate aid.”
His brows furrowed. “When did you write the Duke, if I may ask, my lady? You hadn’t mentioned it.”
No, she hadn’t. I watched her quick shrug. “After Steward Daniel left. Respecting his intelligence, I thought it wise to take his concerns to heart. Since then, I’ve contacted all my father’s liegemen. Every response I’ve received states the plague is everywhere.”
I thought of Ylva and the Southerners, the lost opportunity to question them. But Kaelson just nodded with a gusty sigh. “That matches what I’m hearing. It’s good to know help is on the way, though.”
At no point had Audrey said that, but it was stated so firmly that she didn’t question it, though I saw the sharp look she shot him. “Indeed,” she agreed, a little awkwardly. “Thanking you for your time, Captain, and your service.”
“Don’t,” he said brusquely. “But do be safe, milady.”
She accepted that with an awkward half-nod, then stopped partway out the door to curtsey. His door closed behind her, and she shook her head aggressively, muttering something under her breath. But the moment she saw me looking, her expression smoothed. “Not all bad news, I suppose,” she said brightly. “A path forward is a path forward.”
You could go forward through hellfire, too, but I didn’t tell her that. In the bailey and out of earshot of anyone, I asked quietly, “Are you well?”
“I am, thanking you for asking. And yourself?”
The polished, practiced sentence was jarring. The last time she’d spoken to me like a real human being, she’d been begging me to leave her alone.
I almost preferred it to this shiny layer of bullshit.
She used a less formal version of it in her interactions with the cook who’d taken over responsibility for the staffing, and a more formal version of it with Kaelson. But I knew what she looked like without those layers of expectations.
And I knew what she looked like when those practiced layers of politeness shattered, too.
As she spoke with Bernadette about the suggestions she and Kaelson had, I wandered through the quiet places in the kitchens that probably weren’t usually quiet, preferring to find patterns in the mayhem that was the heart of the castle rather than dwell on the night she’d screamed, smashed furniture, and tried to crush her skull with her own hands.
She loved Isolde. I could respect that. And everyone had their breaking point. Now I knew where hers was.
It wasn’t just the old magic tangling us all up that made me want to help her stop before she hit that point again. But, aside from a miracle to save Isolde’s life, I didn’t know how to do that.
From the open window that carried in the sea air, I could see Audrey’s tower and the smoke coming from the chimney. I thought of the woman up in that tower who, by all accounts, probably should’ve been long dead.
We started the slow walk back up to her tower, mission accomplished, and plan in place. Only then did her shoulders slump. She pulled her cloak tight about herself.
She was pale.
My heart sank.
It was strange, being in the middle of a crisis but having nothing to do and nowhere to go. I opened the door and held it as Audrey entered the warmth of the tower. She folded herself down amid her blankets, fluffing them around herself, her nose buried in old scrolls. She’d taken her gloves off to handle the reading materials, and I caught glimpses of dark nail beds.
She’d worn gloves a lot recently. Scarves, too, and fur-lined cloaks and caps. It was winter. I hadn’t thought anything of it, being the amazing guard I was.
If she died from the plague…if I did everything I could to defend her…I was a free man.
The realization felt hollow.
I looked at my whittling, uninterested. I wandered to the window, but the scene was dull. Heavy clouds filtered sunlight. Shades of gray as far as the eye could see. The words sat, unsaid, on my tongue. Why didn’t you tell me?
Because I’d given her no reason to tell me anything. Because I had no reason to listen. Both of those things were equally true, and yet they didn’t quite feel right. And I had no clue how to remedy it.
“Would you leave me?” I forced myself to look at her as she glanced up from her scrolls, her brows knitted. “If you left tomorrow, if Isolde was well and there was no plague, would you leave me?”
Her frown grew deeper. “I don’t know. You couldn’t come into the Matri’sion forest with us. I don’t know if your oath would let me go without you. If I escaped from you against your will, you’d be safe.”
A knot in my belly unraveled, and those warm whiskey eyes fixed on my collar. She’d abandon me tactically. For my own good.
“Should you ask me how I feel about it?” I prompted.
She blinked at me, those eyes flitting further up to settle in the vicinity of my nose. “Chay, I don’t mean to disregard your feelings, but you’re bloodsworn. Even in this scenario, you cannot give me unbiased information.”
“I can tell you you’re being a shortsighted shit without melting like a cheap candle,” I said, irritated.
“My eyesight is fine according to the last mage I consulted,” she said, turning back to her pages. “Mayhap we’ll get your tongue checked out, though.”
Before I could describe all the ways I could prove my tongue worked just fine, a knock sounded from the outer door. I moved to open it and noticed how swiftly Audrey stowed whatever she’d been reading.
Kaelson looked at me grimly as I opened it. “Just me again,” he said gruffly. “How’re you holding up, lad?”
It was possibly the first time anyone in this icebox had asked me that and meant it. “Loving your city, Captain,” I told him.
Amusement lit his face up. “You and I both. I’m Kael to my friends.” I must’ve missed when we became friends, and mayhap that showed on my face because he said, “If you aren’t threatening to stick a spear in my gut or a knife in my back, we’re friends.” He clapped me on the shoulder and walked in as he said, “Sorry to disturb you so soon, my lady. I’ve a situation I need to raise with you.”
“What happened?” she asked, pouring him a cordial.
He waved it away. “Nothing yet.” He offered her a crisp, well-oiled bow. “I’ve news that there’s a group of folks—desperate, hungry folks—who’re poised to hit the field hospital supplies as they leave the city. They’re in the lower level, milady, where Victor’s Road crosses with Red Row.”
“How many?” she asked, her eyes slightly narrowed, her shoulders straight.
This layer of bullshit looked a little like her father. The way she seemed taller, the way she took up more space. I was sure I’d seen him do the same. But I didn’t believe she was deliberately mimicking him. Part of me wanted to.
It was safer, thinking of her as the Butcher’s daughter.
More likely, it was testament to the self-belief Isolde had unlocked within her. I looked down at the ground. There wasn’t anything I could do about the past, and the future looked grim, too.
“The exact numbers I don’t know that I can trust,” Kaelson was saying. “Begging my lady’s pardon, but the young chap who told me was scared and didn’t see a lot. He guessed at a dozen. But I wouldn’t put money on it, myself.”
“A dozen?” she raised her brows. “Surely we can hold off a dozen? Untrained, poorly armed, yes?”
“Usually, yes, my lady,” he agreed, bowing his head. “But today?”
The bleak picture painted sat unchallenged for a time. Audrey paced over to her desk, picking up her favorite quill but not drawing with it, just running it idly between her fingers. “Even if we called Thomas back right now, he couldn’t be here before tomorrow at the earliest,” she said quietly. “If we change the route, they may well just ambush us where we don’t have advance warning. I assume the caravan is guarded well enough to dissuade a small handful, just not an organized group?”
“You assume correctly, my lady.”
She nodded and looked up, squarely at me. It was like a punch in the gut.
She wasn’t asking me to take a life. But she was asking me to save them.
I didn’t curse, but only because Kaelson was now my friend, and I didn’t want to lose him so easily. “My place is defending you, my lady.”
“So we both ride.”
She was sick. She didn’t need to be out in the cold. Even if she could handle herself—which I suspected she could, if she kept her cool—she couldn’t hold back the plague. Isolde was proof of that. “The risk to you is too great,” I said flatly.
“My lady,” Kaelson said with another bow. “It’s a kind thought, but your presence will only complicate the situation further.”
“My presence means you have the best swordsman to be tested in our kingdom,” she said, the words brisk. “ And his warhorse.” The praise felt like false accolades. I could feel the pressure of her favor being tied around my arm, the tickle of her hair against my lips.
Simpler times.
“Pull all the guards from the castle,” she told Kaelson with a sharp nod. “All of them. Forget the walls. Get the supplies out. Once the matter is done, send the extra men home again. We need to deal with these threats right now, or they’ll nip at our heels and cost us more in the long run. I want to know where they’re from. Their people need our support.”
Uneasy, but seeing the cold sense of it, I looked to Kaelson, who’d never hesitated to tell her when she was wrong in the past. No one would expect the castle to go unguarded—but if they heard of it happening… “If we did that,” Kaelson said, pausing a moment to clasp his hands and rocking slightly on his heels before he added, “It’s a trick you cannot repeat, my lady—the next time, it could be a trap.”
“I understand.”
He nodded, his face a neutral mask. “I won’t pull every man. Two on the gates, to keep up appearances.”
“How many would we have?” she asked, her eyes narrowed.
“If I pulled those from the castle, less the two from the gate…we’d have eleven extra men.”
“Fourteen over a possible dozen.” Was she imagining herself with a bow in her hand, rescuing us all? I didn’t dislike the image myself, but the cost would be immense, even if she wasn’t sick. Knowing you drew the sharp bit of a knife over someone’s throat was one thing. Making accurate shots from horseback was an entirely different matter. She hadn’t taken shots when we’d been riding, the other day. But she’d been looking for them. “The greater our numbers, the safer. Yes?”
“Yes, my lady,” Kaelson said warily. “Depending, of course, on different factors.”
“In this situation?” she asked, pinning him with her gaze.
He hesitated. “There might be four of them, milady. There might be thirty. They might have staffs and leathers, or full plate mail. The boy overheard a meeting with voices. That’s all I know.”
She drew in a breath. “Then we’ll go, too, as well as the castle guards. Just until the rabble are diffused.”
“Do not make me beg you to stay, my lady,” Kaelson said in such a matter-of-fact way it made me look at him twice. “My old knees would weep for days at the task.”
She, too, looked taken aback. “Kaelson, I…”
“You’re all that’s holding this city together,” he said as if he were commenting on the weather. “You fall, and I’ve got chaos. So you stay safe and warm here, and let those of us who’re paid to risk our necks do our job.”
She blinked at him, still disoriented. “I…”
“You’re doing it all with more grace than I could’ve ever dreamed,” he said, the words still ruthlessly neutral. “And if I may, my lady, you’re clearly your mother’s daughter while learning many important lessons from your father, and that’s good. You’ll need both. But right now, we need you alive.”
She wrapped her hands together tightly. My chest ached. I looked away, better to give her privacy to sort out those feelings. “I’ll stay here and lock the tower,” she promised, her words equally as neutral. “Chay—sir Chay—would you go, anyway?”
I felt Kaelson’s gaze on me like a cloud in the sky—but Audrey’s eyes were burning holes in my soul. I took a deep breath. It was the first thing she’d asked of me that showed any real trust. Ever.
A small part of me pointed out that she was being kind to me now she wanted me to do something for her. But it wasn’t the fair part of me who remembered the apologies, the steps she’d taken and never asked for assistance with, the way she shouldered it all herself.
I’d had to offer to arrest the Captain for her. She’d been ready to do it herself.
“Do you need me?” I asked Kaelson, studying his careworn face and clever eyes.
He didn’t hesitate. “I believe we might. I also believe we’ll lose some. If you’re one that we lose, that’s a steeper cost than some of the lads, the Wife take me for saying it.”
That decided it. “The lady said we can’t lose any.” I bowed to Audrey, and she looked somewhat taken aback. “I’d best go and see her wishes done.”
“They’re leaving in a half-hour,” Kaelson told me. “My lady.” He bowed low, then walked out, leaving a heavy quiet in his wake.
“I’m sorry if I ask too much of you,” she said to her hands. “I should have asked you in private if you were comfortable. Next time?—”
“Just say ‘thanking you,’ Audrey,” I said, irritated. Did she think I was so precious I wouldn’t help defend supplies for the sick? “I would’ve said if I wasn’t comfortable. I can do that, you know.”
She folded herself back into the blankets. “Well…I’m grateful. Mayhap more for that than your assistance. I need to know what I can ask of you. I’m no good at guessing.”
I wanted to shake her. “There you go, we’re in perfect harmony.”
“A thing of beauty,” she agreed dryly. “We never miss a step.”
“Don’t go making promises I can’t keep,” I told her, amused despite myself. “Chances are they’ve already laid their ambush. I hope there are no archers. I’ve had enough of them.”
She didn’t laugh, which I should’ve expected. Isolde had nearly died that night.
She held the scrolls again but hadn’t unrolled them. She just sat there, looking worried and distracted. But she didn’t feel quite as far away as she had earlier. Or perhaps I just felt less powerless.
One of her blankets had slipped. I fought the urge to go right it.
She was trying to look after me, perhaps as awkwardly as Luca had attempted to look after her. And no less infuriatingly.
I tried to remember the last time I’d been coddled, and couldn’t. Perhaps that was why the concept wasn’t so repulsive when it came from her.
“Bar the door,” I told her. “I know you can look after yourself, but these are strange times.”
“I will,” she said, pulling the blankets higher. “Be safe, Chay.”
“Haven’t got myself killed yet,” I reminded her, then added, perhaps brashly, “I’ll be back before dark.”
As reward for my boldness, she sent me a smile. “You will.”