Chapter 17
I woke to the smell of coffee. Cillian stood next to the bed with tousled hair, smiling and holding two mugs.
He had stayed with me the entire night, and I had slept long and deeply, his presence bringing me the peace I had so desperately needed.
The sheet slipped down before I could catch it, and Cillian got an unexpected flash of my breasts. I bit back a smile at his groan.
‘Move over,’ he grunted as he maneouvred onto the bed, trying not to spill the contents of the mugs.
Leaning back against the headboard, he handed me one steaming mug, and I allowed him to drag me back with his free arm to rest against his body.
I snuggled into him and took a sip of milky coffee.
I groaned as the liquid gold went down. Ignoring his laugh, I continued to drink.
‘Where did you get coffee from?’ I asked between sips.
‘I have my ways,’ he said mysteriously.
I elbowed him, annoyed with his non-answer.
‘So, are we going to talk about why I haven’t seen you for nearly two weeks? Or why I found you in here half starved and out of your mind last night?’ He gave me a little nudge.
I wanted to hold on to how good I felt, and his questions cast a shadow over the moment.
‘I left because Iain was ill.’
His arm tightened around me.
‘He’s gone,’ I whispered. My eyes were drawn to the corner where the sword Iain made was wrapped in the mysterious cloth.
He could be a father who abandoned me for ten years, or he could be a knight who was ordered to find me another family.
Each possibility was like a stone in my gut, heavy and grating.
There was a third possibility that the faded cloth with a royal coat of arms was nothing but a scrap Iain had found and used to protect a gift for me.
The truth of it died with Iain, and I might never know who my birth parents were.
‘I’m sorry, Caris,’ he said as he pressed his lips to my head.
I could not suppress the urge to unburden myself and tell him all that had happened. ‘Three men are lying dead on the road. They attacked me on my way back to Murus. I –’ I choked as I tried to tell him the horrible thing I did. ‘I turned a man into ash.’
‘Good. If he was stupid enough to assault you, he deserved it. The thought of you alone, out on the road grieving – and not one, but three men attacking you,’ Cillian said, his voice rising in volume.
‘But I killed one of them with my Curse.’
‘How is that different from killing him with a sword, Caris?’
‘If you had seen it, you would understand that dying by my sword would have been a mercy.’
‘Dead’s, dead. It doesn’t matter how. He deserved it for attacking a lone woman out on the road,’ he said.
‘What I can do is unnatural.’ I wanted him to agree with me, to say it was wrong, to stop defending me. ‘My Curse is evil. I killed with it.’
‘You’ve saved lives using it too.’ Cillian reminded me. ‘People tried to tell me that what my wife did was unnatural. She lost her life because of their fear. If I could do what you could, I would burn all of them.’
I stiffened in his embrace. His admission surprised me.
‘I know revenge won’t heal the hurt or bring back the people we love, but it doesn’t mean I don’t crave it every day my wife and child are not with me.’
He rarely spoke about them, and I wanted to soothe the pain and anger I could hear in his words. I turned in his arms and placed a kiss on his trembling lips.
We talked about it no more and drank the rest of our coffee. I protested when he moved to get out of bed.
‘Come see me tonight?’ he asked, pulling on his boots.
‘Why can’t you stay?’ I replied, desperate for him not to leave me alone with my dark thoughts.
‘I have to work and you need to leave this room,’ he said firmly.
I let him go only after a kiss that had us both breathing heavily.
After dressing, I left the safety of my room for the first time in almost a week. It was still early, so I headed to the barracks dining hall for the morning meal.
Amid the clinking of cutlery and chatter of hungry soldiers, Atlas and Torgrin were slumped in their chairs, not talking, just staring at their plates of untouched food.
I approached them cautiously, wondering if I would be welcome to sit at their table. I had ignored their pleas from outside my room for days, and now here I was, appearing in the dining hall to eat with them.
It was Torgrin who looked up first. He straightened quickly, and I felt his gaze roaming my face and body as if confirming that I was whole and well.
‘You’re back!’ Atlas said, a grin rising on his face.
‘If that’s okay?’ I asked, looking at Torgrin, who remained silent. He nodded, and I sat down next to him. Torgrin lifted his hand to signal someone, and a plate of food appeared before me.
‘Thank you.’ My smile felt uncertain as I looked up to see him studying me.
‘I’m glad you’re feeling better,’ he replied, his gaze unwavering.
I ate, and Atlas talked. Torgrin even grunted and put in an occasional word.
Training had been going well. The new foal was already promising to be a powerful stallion, and life at the fortress was as it had been when I left.
I was sure that Torgrin and Atlas had vital work to do, yet they were suddenly interested in coming to see Webber and the young foal with me.
Webber was pleased to see us, and Meg was there, too, applying some cream to a cut on the foal’s shin. It appeared he was a spirited horse who thought he could jump gates despite having only learned to walk a few weeks ago.
‘He reminds me of you, Atlas,’ Meg said as she brushed the hay from her knees.
‘What, handsome?’ he said, smirking as he leaned against the stable wall beside me.
‘No. Stupid,’ Torgrin said, deadpan, taking up the wall space on my other side.
I burst out laughing, and my reward was a flash of dimples from Torgrin and a scowl from Atlas. Torgrin had dimples? Seeing them made me stop and stare.
‘You two never change, and now you have this one joining your little trouble-seeking group.’ Meg motioned to me, and Torgrin and Atlas shouldered me while I shook my head in denial.
Were we a trio? ‘I was referring to when Atlas was a young lad, and he got stuck climbing a fence. I think you were trying to escape a young lady’s father? ’ Meg said innocently.
Webber came to lean on the rail next to his smirking wife.
‘It was her husband,’ Torgrin replied for Atlas.
‘Atlas!’ I said, shaking my head at him, trying not to laugh at his reddening face.
‘Shut up, Tor, and stop pretending you weren’t there with me, learning a thing or two from the magistrate’s wife.’ He leaned over me to scowl at Torgrin.
Both? With the same woman at the same time? I found myself intrigued. Torgrin avoided the question in my eyes and cleared his throat.
‘At least I wasn’t stupid enough to get my breeches stuck on the fence,’ he smirked.
‘Yes, it was a sight!’ Meg declared. ‘Two sixteen-year-old boys running for their lives, and Atlas not wearing any breeches.’
The image was too much, and I devolved into giggles as both men scowled with flushed faces.
We spent the rest of the morning laughing and teasing.
Meg was an excellent source of information.
She knew many of the escapades of their youth.
Soon, Atlas and Torgrin joined in with other stories that Webber and Meg had yet to hear.
They wrapped me up in their tales, and I asked questions occasionally, but more often, I was giggling at their expense.
Tomas came looking for us. ‘Lord Warwick has requested a meeting. Now,’ he said urgently.
Atlas slowly removed the arm he had loosely thrown over my shoulders, and I straightened up from my resting position against Torgrin’s side. I felt his hand briefly touch mine as if in apology.
‘You too, Caris,’ Tomas said to everyone’s surprise.
I bid goodbye to Meg and Webber and followed the three men to Lord Warwick’s counsel rooms.
?
‘King Hared has sent for my daughter to return and marry his son,’ Lord Warwick announced to the room.
Lord Warwick looked at us from the head of the long counsel table. On one side sat Tomas and the library curator. I sat on the other side between Torgrin and Atlas.
‘There’s more,’ Lord Warwick continued. ‘I have also received news from a spy in the castle that the king has imprisoned Queen Yaris. He has accused her of being Cursed.’
‘That is preposterous!’ the curator declared, upset. ‘The people only accept him as king because he is married to her!’
‘Yes, I agree it was a risky move, especially as Bethel and his son have not yet been married,’ said Lord Warwick.
‘Perhaps he no longer believes he needs the support of the people. His army and the Order are powerful and brutal enough to keep them afraid and compliant,’ said Torgrin.
‘Allowing him to do whatever he wants,’ agreed Atlas.
That wasn’t very comforting. A powerful and brutal sovereign who answers to no-one.
‘But why would he still need Goodwin to marry Bethel?’ I asked.
‘Maybe naming an illegitimate heir puts the throne in danger from King Goa?’ Tomas suggested.
‘Yes, you might be right, Tomas. An agreement was made years ago between King Goa’s father and the previous ruler, King Alfred.
Part of the peace treaty between Ephemeros and Pedion was that King Goa would never try to seize the Pedion throne while the Stormwater line still sits upon it,’ the curator confirmed.
‘Then King Hared is still wary of someone – King Goa,’ Torgrin pointed out.
‘Well, with this development, we will need to strategise how we are to free the queen without putting Bethel at risk,’ announced Lord Warwick.
We all looked at each other. Was it even possible to do that? Free a queen, and then what? Hide her here? Surely, that won’t stay a secret for long.
‘I know this complicates things, but I can’t leave my late wife’s sister to spend the last of her days in her own dungeon.’ Lord Warwick shook his head in disgust.
The curator looked across at me with watery eyes. ‘Queen Yaris was a good and gentle ruler before she became ill. After she lost those poor twin babes, she was never the same.’ He must have known her before they sent him to Murus. ‘She deserves better,’ he proclaimed to the rest of the table.
‘I think we should go with our original plan. Captain Atlas will stay here along with most of the men to protect Ania and Wolfe and hold the fortress. Captain Torgrin and I will take a small contingent of our best soldiers for protection.’ Lord Warwick nodded to Tomas and me.
‘Then we will see Bethel married and rescue Queen Yaris, who will return here with us.’
‘My lord, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be in Capita when Queen Yaris escapes. You will be the first suspected of orchestrating the rescue.’
Torgrin had a point.
‘It might be best if you delay your arrival until after she’s been rescued,’ Atlas added. ‘It will have to happen before the wedding as it will be just as suspicious if you aren’t there to see your eldest daughter married,’ Atlas said to Lord Warwick.
Lord Warwick sighed, then nodded. He knew his captains were right, but he didn’t like it. It was agreed that Lord Warwick would follow us a week after his daughter. He would arrive the day before the wedding.
‘My lord, how do you plan on rescuing Queen Yaris exactly?’ asked the curator.
‘Well, that’s still to be worked out, but I have someone who could help us. I have sent for him to join us.’ Lord Warwick called out to the guards behind the doors. ‘Let him in!’
We all turned in our chairs, and I gasped when I saw a familiar broad face with dark blond hair combed and tied back with a strip of leather.
‘Come sit, Cillian.’ Lord Warwick gestured to the table.
Cillian looked towards me, but there was no room with Atlas and Torgrin sitting on either side of me, so he took a seat next to Tomas.
‘Cillian is from Capita.’
Why had Cillian never said that he came from Capita?
‘I knew Cillian as the best blacksmith in the city, and several years ago, King Hared commissioned him to extend the cells of the old dungeon.’
Lord Warwick’s words continued to astound me. Cillian had never mentioned any of this to me during all the time we had known each other. He must have felt me staring at him. Our eyes met for a second before Lord Warwick spoke again.
‘Is it true that you know the layout of the cells?’ Lord Warwick asked Cillian.
‘Yes, my lord,’ he replied.
‘Would you know how to free someone from the cells you worked on?’
‘Yes, I suppose,’ he admitted.
‘Do you hold any love for your king, Cillian?’ Lord Warwick stared at Cillian intently. ‘You are free to speak the truth here. None of us have any love for King Hared.’
Cillian looked at me. I nodded to him to signify that Lord Warwick was telling the truth and not trying to trap him into treason.
‘I don’t care for him. He is to blame for my wife and child’s deaths.’
Lord Warwick’s lips pulled down at the corners, and the grooves in his face deepened. He knew the loss of a wife. ‘What you are about to learn must not be repeated to anyone who is not here in this room already,’ Lord Warwick intoned. ‘Understood?’ he asked Cillian.
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘Queen Yaris has been imprisoned by the king.’
Cillian looked around at us to see if this was a joke. Seeing how serious everyone was, he turned his attention back to Lord Warwick.
‘We intend to rescue her with your help. If you agree to this, I wish for you to travel to Capita with my daughter and a small guard to help us on our rescue mission,’ finished Lord Warwick.
‘No!’ I stood up as fear gripped me. ‘He’s not a soldier. It’s too dangerous!’
I looked around the room, and all I saw was pity in everyone’s eyes.
‘Torgrin, please?’ I begged. Surely Torgrin wouldn’t want someone untrained to risk derailing our mission?
‘Caris!’ Cillian glared at me as if asking Torgrin to step in was an insult. But I didn’t care if it hurt his pride. If he stayed in Murus, he would be safe.
‘Say no, Cillian. Please!’ I begged him, but he wouldn’t look at me. Instead, he kept his face turned to Lord Warwick.
‘I’ll do as you need, my lord,’ he said.
I sat back down in my chair heavily. The rest of the meeting was a blur.
All I could focus on was how much danger Cillian was putting himself in.
He was a blacksmith, not a soldier. I was furious at him for risking his life for a queen who probably cared nothing for her people.
I listened to them talk, noticing again how Cillian’s accent was similar to Lord Warwick’s.
Now I knew why. They were both Capita men.