Chapter 33
After the battle, there was much work to be done.
Rowan, the hero of the day, had swiftly captured all of the major leaders.
The remaining loyal guards locked them deep in the prison in the lower levels of the manor, which for many years until now had been used as a wine cellar.
Clara, Alaric, the lot of them—finally, once and for all, they were defeated.
I took comfort in this small victory. But, as I surveyed the dead, dread filled my gut.
"There will only be more bloodshed from here," I realized, as I watched the remaining healthy servants carry out the dead.
There was no option—everyone loyal to the Black Dragon was dead. We couldn't afford to keep them alive.
Doubt engaged at the back of my mind. Did they really have to die?
I squashed it promptly. The Black Dragon, or rather, the Shadow Walkers, were a vicious cult, whose members would stop at nothing.
If they remained alive, they would only have led to our demise.
We cannot let Chancellor Veltin hear wind of what happened here, I reminded myself.
For a few days after the battle, we licked our wounds. Those that weren't injured, or had non-lethal wounds, cared for those who did. Even Fern, the hermit who lived in the woods, came when we sent for her, and cared for our wounded. Because of her work, many of them survived.
Including Edith. Somehow, the gunpowder shot had missed all of her vital organs, and struck her in the best possible place you could ever be hit and still survive. And, with Fern's medical help, survive she did. Perhaps she truly was lucky.
While I had no physical injuries, my own mental state had yet to recover after witnessing the carnage. I felt an immense wave of helplessness and guilt, as I was unable to aid in the fight. To compensate, I worked in the infirmary day and night.
Once things had settled down, a feast was called in the manor hall for all survivors.
My father's jovial nature helped greatly to boost morale, and they received 2 months of extra wages, as well as the promise of a month off to go home and be with their families after the extra servants from the royal palace arrived.
It was certainly a generous offer, but after how hard they all fought, they deserved it.
Eventually, Julian and I, guarded by Rowan, went to the dungeons to question our prisoners and see what information we could get out of them. As I thought, it was hopeless, and I didn't have the stomach to see Rowan torture them, nor did I want to order him to do it.
"You bastards... you'll get what's coming to you," Alaric seethed. "The Shadow Walkers don't hold back. This is no setback. We will have our prize, along with your heads."
"Shadow Walkers? I thought these guys were the Black Dragons," Rowan said with disgust, dropping the former head of the guard as he writhed in pain, having taken a cyanide pill before we could stop him.
The other prisoners followed suit, taking their own lives before we had the chance to get any information. All but one.
Clara seemed to have taken a vow of silence towards us, sitting near the end of her cell with her back turned.
She sat, rocking back and forth. "My ruby, precious ruby.
.." She muttered under her breath. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE MY CROWN JEWEL!
" She shouted, in a crazed frenzy, lunging at the wall and beating at it with her fists.
"I'll get you, I'llgetyouI'llgetyouI'llgetyouI'llgetyouI'llgetyou.
.." she repeated the words over and over again.
She was completely unresponsive. Nothing we did would get her to acknowledge us, and she only continued in this crazed, circular frenzy.
I realized that all of this bloodshed was due to my own stupidity. If we could have had more time, maybe we could have avoided it... I sighed. But I let Clara push me to the edge. Never again would I let myself be so childish and put other's lives at stake.
Having figured out the code the Black Dragons used in their letters, Julian and I used it to write a note from "The Seamstress" calling for all of the agents of the Black Dragon to gather within 5 days at a discreet location in the woods, under the pretense of being ready to strike.
Rowan used this time to ready the remaining guard forces for battle. It was a pitiful number, really, and dread settled in my gut as I watched them gather. As much as I protested, I was not allowed to come. "Rowan, I can't just stand by and do nothing," I pleaded.
Rowan shook his head. "It will be gruesome," he warned. "But, it must be done." He didn't even point out my inability to fight, or how I would just be in the way the whole time.
With that, I watched the backs of him and the other loyal knights, including Gareth, Barca, and Jon, disappear into the woods. Possibly to their deaths. But, by the dawn of the next morning, they returned—championing Rowan like some legendary hero.
Apparently, there had been very few casualties despite the overwhelming odds, and Rowan had used his Aura blade to slay more than 20 men. Whatever respect had been lost over his identity as a mercenary, had been flipped and increased tenfold. They started calling him, "The Hero of Averine."
Rowan, of course, was not at all loath to have this new identity. He grinned at me as we walked the manor grounds, poking me in the side. "Hero of Averine, eh? I think it suits me."
I rolled my eyes. "Sure, yeah," I said flatly. Then, my expression changed. "Thank you..." I said slowly.
"For what?" He said through a mouthful of pastries, a basket of which he carried in his hands, given to him by Beth, a blushing kitchen maid.
I couldn't take him seriously, and burst out laughing. "For saving me, multiple times—oh for God's sake, Rowan. I'm trying to have a serious moment here," I scolded. "You're ruining the vibe."
He looked at me confused, crumbs all over his face. "What now?" Obviously, that wasn't a word that existed in this world. Then, he wiped the pastry dust off himself, straightening up. "Look, you don't have to thank me. I'm just doing my job."
I stopped, regarding him silently for a moment.
His tanned skin, tousled sandy blond hair, and green eyes, along with his well-built, knight-like figure.
"Seriously, what did I do to deserve you?
I still can't believe it..." I breathed out.
It was surreal, that this man, a mercenary I'd met in the blacksmith shop, whose name wasn't even written in Julia's book, a supposed prophecy, would become such a key part of my plans.
"You know what, hell yeah. The Hero of Averine. I think it really does suit you."
"I better hear you start calling me that from now on," He teased. "Wait, no—nevermind. How about Sir Rowan? Has a nice ring to it, don't you think–"
I playfully punched him in the gut, then smiled. Of course, he let me hit him. "Doofus."
We continued our walk, surveying the grounds. Tonight, we would have one more major feast, for the whole manor, before the staff from the palace arrived. It would be a grand sendoff for all the servants, as they would go home to enjoy a well-deserved leave.
I sat at the large table near the front, with Duke Leeland at the head. Julian sat across from me and Rowan beside me, as the servants gathered around. Many had never had the opportunity to be so close to, let alone dine with Nobility, and now it had happened multiple times in one week.
"Father, you have always been a revolutionary, but this... it's almost too much," Julian said, patting his mouth with a napkin. "If other nobles saw this, they would strip us of our title, I'm sure of it," He shook his head.
Duke Leeland laughed. "Oh Julian, you've always got some sort of cynical input, don't you?" He sliced his steak joyfully.
"Even so, I will admit, this is really nice..." He said quietly. I saw him look beside him, where Edith was devouring her own steak. Don't think I didn't notice that look, I grinned.
"And what of the Barons? Do they know of this?" I asked, suddenly remembering. My gut dropped, it was the one part of the plan I had neglected. The Duke's territory was a large scale, and I'd barely figured out how to run the manor.
Julian waved his hand. "Already taken care of," he said. "When I got that note from Rowan, I immediately sent out a warning to them. And that new Baron Uric, meant to replace Weisly?" He made a slashing motion with his hand on his neck. "Let's just say, Weisley's son has taken his rightful place."
Duke Leeland nodded. "I sent word to gather them for a meeting.
We must all be on the same page if we are to keep the riffraff out, for good," He said.
Then, his blue eyes started getting teary.
"I'm sorry, to all of you. If I hadn't so blatantly neglected my duty after your mother's passing, I would've noticed all the vipers I'd let in.
Truly, I will spend the rest of my life making up for this grave oversight. "
My gaze darkened. He'd taken the news of his wife's death at the hands of Clara surprisingly well, although it had left him incredibly heartbroken. What a bond those two must have had... I thought. "Father, none of this is your fault," I assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He looked up at me. Julian nodded in agreement. "You were only hoping for the best in people, as you always do, and that's not a bad thing," He said. "And look at where we are now. It ended up alright." He offered a small smile.
I kicked him under the table. He didn't really have a way with words. "What Julian meant to say is, not even the most perfect Lord can prevent something like this. Traitors have a way of weaseling their way in," I said slowly.
Father nodded, taking a sip of water. "Even so, I vow to spend the rest of my life making up for this.
The people of this manor, nay, of the entire dukedom, will live better than anyone else in the entire kingdom," He assured us.
"And I will work tirelessly towards this goal as long as I am still a Duke. "
I smiled slightly. Julian piped up, "Eerm, just make sure we still make a profit, right father? We can't be losing money now—" Another kick from under the table. "Ow! Rosaria!"
I turned, looking from Rowan to Julian. "Now, what's this I hear about Rowan sending you a message?" I asked.
Julian looked confused. "Didn't you help him? He sent that little green bird."
His words seemed to slur together, as the world around me became dazed. Huh? What's going on? Why am I so tired? I suddenly felt like I was paddling in water.
Then, suddenly, a vicious coughing wracked my chest. "Rosaria, are you okay?" Rowan's brows furrowed.
I nodded lazily, and for each bob of my head the world seemed to turn upside down. "Yea, uh..." I struggled for the words. "Wrong pipe."
But, as I pulled the napkin away from my mouth, I looked down. It was covered in blood. Immediately, those at the table near me stood up. "Rosaria!" Duke Leeland exclaimed. "There's blood..."
I didn't have any more time to think before my world went black.