Chapter Fourteen #2
“After all, as subjects of the Kingdom of Solis, very minimal motivation should be required if one is faithful to his or her King and Queen.” The Ascended came into my line of sight. I knew that crescent-shaped face and long, raven-black hair.
“Lord Chaney,” I whispered, pressing my hands against the bark of a tree. The Ascended wore no cloak or gloves, only a heavy tunic over dark breeches. “He’s from Masadonia. Why would he be here looking for Halverston?”
That didn’t make sense unless I…I was wrong to think they were here for the Lord of New Haven.
Casteel didn’t answer, and the unease grew as I glanced at him. His chin was lowered, jaw set and hard as he stared forward. His hand curved around the hilt of his short sword.
“I do find Lord Halverston’s absence concerning, which we will need to address appropriately,” Chaney remarked, drawing my gaze back to him.
“But I’ve come all this way on far more important business that must be handled first. I know we’ve never met, so I feel it’s important to let you know that unlike the knights, I am not nearly as patient when it comes to humoring unhelpful subjects. ”
“I don’t think your knights are all that patient either,” Elijah replied.
Chaney chuckled, the sound as cold as the wind funneling the snow along the ground.
I didn’t know much about Lord Chaney other than seeing him at the Council meetings.
Sometimes, when I snuck about Castle Teerman, I overheard him with the Duke or Duchess.
All the Ascended gave me the creeps, but Chaney appeared pleasant enough.
He always nodded politely in my direction when we crossed paths, never stared too long, and he’d been kind to the staff as far as I knew.
“Well, then, please note that I’m even less patient.
” The Ascended stopped in front of one of the children, a boy I’d seen running from house to house when we first arrived in New Haven.
He’d been outside the stables the night I learned the truth about Casteel.
“I’ve been told that visitors arrived not too many days ago. ”
My spine went rigid. They had to be here for me, but how did they discover so quickly that we were here?
“You heard wrong, my Lord,” Elijah answered. “There have been no visitors. Only those returning to the keep.”
The Lord strolled past Elijah, his hands clasped behind his back.
He stopped once more, this time in front of an elderly man who had his arm around another who looked as if he could barely stand.
“I’m here on behalf of the Crown.” He looked over his shoulder to Elijah.
“So, I really hope you won’t lie to me. To do so is akin to lying to the King and Queen, and that would be an act of treason.
While they are more often than not our benevolent benefactors, they are still our rulers. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” Elijah replied stoically.
“Good.” Chaney pivoted to face where Elijah stood, unclasping his hands. “I’m well aware that a group arrived recently. I may call them visitors. You might refer to them as ‘those returning to the keep.’ Semantics. So, I will let that slide. A young woman traveled with them. Where is she?”
I exhaled roughly, feeling nothing but a sense of rising dread.
It was Magda who spoke. “There was no woman that returned recently, my Lord.”
My fingers dug into the bark as Chaney stared at her, too far away for me to read his expression. Even though I already knew what would happen, I opened my senses and stretched out, forming the intangible connection with the Lord.
I felt nothing. Vast. Endless. Empty. And it had been the same for the empath warriors, who were far stronger than I?
Did the Ascended have no mortal emotions at all?
Tiny bumps pimpled my skin as I shifted my senses toward Elijah.
The moment I connected with him, I felt the hot, acidic burn of anger, and the iron taste of steely determination.
He wasn’t afraid. Not at all. I pulled my gift back.
Chaney snapped his fingers, and one of the knights stepped forward, opening the carriage door. I frowned, leaning forward as a slight form came into view, shoulders curved in, head bowed.
“Oh, my gods,” I whispered, jerking back from the tree so fast that I lost my balance.
Casteel caught me before I toppled over. “Steady,” he murmured.
“It’s Mrs. Tulis,” I told him, stunned.
“You need to go underground.” He started to turn me.
I dug in my feet. “No.”
“You don’t need to see this,” he argued.
But I had to.
I had to see this.
Casteel cursed, but he didn’t force me to move.
Wearing nothing but a frayed, worn gown, the woman stopped a few feet from the carriage. She trembled so badly that I wondered how she remained standing. The wind tugged at the knot of her hair, lifting the strands that had already fallen. Her arms were curled around her chest—her empty arms.
“Where is her son?” I asked. Casteel shook his head when I looked at him.
“Tell me again, Mrs. Tulis,” Chaney said, stopping once more. “Who arrived here just a few days ago?”
“It w-was the Maiden,” she stammered, and my heart dropped. “The C-Chosen. She came with others from Masadonia.” She took a tentative step toward Elijah. “I’m sorry. He—”
“That’s enough, Mrs. Tulis.” That was all Chaney needed to say, and she quieted at once, sinking into herself.
“I’m sure all of you know who the Maiden is.
She was being escorted to the capital. And as I’m sure you already know, New Haven is not part of the route one normally takes to get there. Stopping here wasn’t part of the plan.”
“There’s no Maiden here. Not in any sense of the word,” Elijah said, and a few of those standing in line chuckled.
“His mouth,” murmured Casteel, “will be the death of him one day.”
I feared that one day might come sooner than later when Chaney seemed to inhale deeply. “So, you say she’s a liar?” he asked.
“All I’m saying is that there’s no Maiden in this keep,” Elijah answered, which technically wasn’t a lie.
“All right.” Chaney nodded and then moved fast like all Ascended could, almost as quickly as an Atlantian. One moment he was standing several feet from Mrs. Tulis. The next, he was behind her, his fingers sinking into her wind-swept hair. A vicious crack sounded as he jerked her head to the side.
Lurching forward, I clamped my hands over my mouth to silence the shout building in my throat. Elijah made a move toward the Lord, but he drew up short as several of the knights pulled their swords.
With wide, disbelieving eyes, I watched Lord Chaney lift his hands.
Mrs. Tulis crumpled to the ground in a boneless heap at his feet.
Even after seeing the underground chamber with all those names, I couldn’t…
I couldn’t have prepared myself for what I saw.
He’d snapped her neck. Just like that. He’d killed her as if she meant nothing, as if her life had no value. Slowly, I lowered my hands.
“Why?” Magda said, her fingers pressed to her rounded belly. “Why would you do that?”
Lord Chaney stepped over Mrs. Tulis’s body as if she were nothing, absolutely forgettable. “Why would she go unpunished for lying?”
Oh, gods. A shudder racked me. She hadn’t been lying. Magda knew that. All of them knew that.
“Unless it was you who is lying,” he said.
“And the only reason I can come up with for that is that several of you—or all of you—are Descenters. Like the one you accused of lying. After all, she once lived in Masadonia but disappeared along with her husband and son shortly before the Rite and after their very public request to refuse the Rite was denied. Her death was quick and just.”
Her death was just? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. And how had he gotten ahold of her when she had been in New Haven? And where was Tobias?
“But back to the issue at hand. The Maiden is very important to the kingdom. Worth more than every single one of you,” Chaney addressed the line of people. “Where is she?”
No one spoke.
Chaney looked at the only knight who spoke. Without saying a word, he lunged forward, thrusting his sword deep into the belly of a man standing in line.
Horror seized me as Casteel jumped up but stopped, growling under his breath.
The air around him vibrated with rage, and my senses swelled as the man’s agony rippled out across the yard.
My throat tightened as I fought back the nearly overwhelming urge to connect with him.
I couldn’t allow that. It would be too much.
The man staggered, but he didn’t scream.
He didn’t even shout from the pain. I imagined a giant pair of shears snipping away at all of the lines my gift was trying to connect to him…
to Casteel…to all the others. Rage coated the air, falling heavier than the snow had, and I trembled with the effort to shut it down.
To lock it all away before the need to ease the man’s suffering and the fear and anger of the others overwhelmed me.
Before I made things worse.
Not a single member of the keep standing by twitched a muscle as the man lifted his head and spat in the knight’s face.
The knight twisted the sword before tearing the blade free. Red spilled out of the man’s stomach, thick and ropey as he went down on one knee.
“Fuck you,” the man gritted out.
The second thrust of the sword was more of a swipe, cleaving the man’s head from his shoulders. There were gasps. At least I thought there were, but the blood was pounding too heavily in my ears. It could’ve been me who reacted.
Casteel rose once more, his hands opening and closing at his sides. A muscle flexed along his jaw, and then he stretched his neck to the left and to the right before returning to kneel beside me.
Bile crept up my throat as the knight wiped the spit from his cheek with the back of his free hand.
“I will kill that one,” Casteel vowed quietly, his voice colder than the air we breathed. “I will kill that one slowly and painfully.”