Chapter 37. Spare Daggers.
The woods were as quiet as the morning lakes when the Wurdulacs had finally lost our traces. The bare trees froze in place where we stood, allowing our horses a swift break after their sprint.
At least an hour had passed since we’d escaped the palace: at least an hour of Francis being trapped behind the enemies’ walls.
“We have to go back.” I searched Roxanne’s and Gabriel’s gazes. “No one is following us now. We have to go back.” The tears spilled from my eyes anew as the reality crushed upon me with excruciating speed. The claws scratched from the inside of my rib cage; my hand fell onto my throbbing heart.
“We can’t get him out now—not when the palace is filled with Wurdulacs.” Roxanne swallowed. “And we need more weapons.” She shook her head, lowering her gaze.
“But—” I started.
“Francis is clever, he will be fine. Caleb is with him.” Roxanne’s gaze hardened. “He knows we will come for him when Kane attacks. We have to warn everyone who resides at the Barren’s duchy and prepare our armies.”
“They will kill him by then!” I cried. My hands shook at the mere idea of his suffering.
“We have no other choice.” Roxanne’s throat bubbled. “You can’t help him if they throw you in a dungeon, Cordelia. And after our failure today, they will be on high alert for anyone near the palace. We have to wait for a distraction.”
“And if Kane doesn’t attack in the next few days, what then!” I demanded. “What if Caleb lied! What if—”
“Kane will attack, and you know it. Francis is far from his priority right now,” Roxanne sighed, shaking her head. “We just have to hope Francis’ mouth doesn’t kill him before Kane’s attack happens.”
I shook my head, my gaze rising to the cruel Moon. Why do you do this to me? I wanted to scream at her unfairness. Have I not paid for my many wrongs yet? A silent tear slid down my cheek.
“It’s just a few days.” Roxanne reached for my hand, giving it a squeeze.
“And right now, you need to focus on convincing Barren to work with us,” her voice sharp as the tip of her blade.
“You have to make sure that whatever strategy he chooses for this battle works in our favor, as well as the people in Faris.”
“I know nothing of war strategies, and he knows that.” I shook my head. “He won’t listen to me.”
“Make sure he does,” Roxanne bit out. “This battle is our last chance at surviving the Wurdulacs and getting Francis out alive.”
I wiped my tears, filling my lungs with as much air as possible.
“Do you understand?” Roxanne searched my eyes. “Collect yourself, and do what needs to be done, Cordelia.”
“You can do this, Lia.” Gabriel’s gaze bored into mine.
I managed a small nod in reply, though I felt far from the confidence she wished me to act upon.
“Let’s not waste time.” Roxanne dropped my hand, ordering her horse to run.
Barren’s castle stood quiet under the night skies. The stone courtyard beyond the gate was now cleared of melting snow, the soil of a little garden peaked through the layers of white.
“Haven’t been here in ages,” Gabriel muttered as we slowed our horses right before the gates.
“I wish I could say the same.” I drew a deep breath before dismounting Annabelle and walking towards the guards standing behind the obstacle.
They drew their weapons as I neared, their eyes surveying me for threats.
“Allow us entry,” my voice banged through the courtyard.
“We brought His Grace the weaponry he asked for.”
The guards glanced at each other before one of them broke into a run towards the main doors. It must have been at least a quarter of an hour before he came back, whispering into another’s guard’s ear the message William had sent him with.
I rolled my eyes at such theatrics, though I stayed put, awaiting their verdict—they stayed silent.
The sun was about to come up and they knew it as they watched our every move. Were they to not allow our entrance, we were as good as dead—save for Gabriel, who stood by my side, sending furious glares in the guards’ direction.
Gabriel’s shoulders straightened; his chin held high, despite the disproving gazes of the soldiers that stood by the other side of the gates.
“If Barren doesn’t want our help in this war, we will be on our way,” Roxanne seethed at guards.
“Let’s go.” I turned back towards our horses.
“Wait!” One of the guards hurried to open the gate. “His Grace awaits you in his study,” he said, walking to the side, freeing our way.
“Barren will pay for the wait,” Roxanne said, caring not who heard as we walked through the courtyard.
“If something happens,” I whispered to my friends.
“Go all the way to the bottom of the stairs, their passages are hidden underneath the castle.” I gave Roxanne and Gabriel the same instructions I’d given Francis a few months ago as we walked through the empty corridors, towards the courthall. No warrior accompanied us.
“What good would that do?” Roxanne mumbled. “The sun is about to come up, we are trapped here.”
“You both are vampires,” Gabriel shook his head. “No matter what they say, they are petrified to death by you.”
“Gods, I hope that’s enough.” Roxanne sighed, her boots squeaking against the marble floors.
“They need us, and they know it,” Gabriel argued as we took the last turn towards the courthall.
The closed door of Barren’s study appeared at the end of the corridor. No guard stood by the entrance.
I swung the door open, without waiting for permission. Barren’s head flew in my direction: the crease between his eyebrows deepened.
Roxanne and Gabriel walked by my sides as we made our way through the candlelit room: every curtain drawn closed.
Barren sat at the head of the table, his hands crossed atop of it; despite his freshly brushed hair and well fit attire, his eyes gave away the annoyance of being woken so early.
His personal guard stood a few feet behind, eyeing the weapons at our belts.
“Gather your commanders, we have much to discuss.” I sat at the other head of the long table—Roxanne and Gabriel by my sides.
“I thought you had brought me your part of the bargain, yet you seem to be emptyhanded,” Barren tsked, looking us up and down. “I told you, Cordelia, no weapons—no army.”
“Gabriel knows how to make Royal steel. He will get to work right after we talk through our battle plan.” I eyed my opponent. “Given our time is short, and Kane is planning to attack within a few days, I suggest you call for your commanders. Now.”
Barren sat unmoving, yet a slight clench of his jaw gave away the concern my words had brought out of him.
“If you want our army to fight alongside yours when the Wurdulacs come, I suggest you do as she says,” Roxanne added, leaning back on her chair.
“And why would I believe your tales?” William smirked. “The agreement was: you bring us the weapons, and then we talk—not the other way around.”
“You are committing your people to death by wasting our time,” Gabriel’s low voice bounced off the walls of the courthall.
“Ah! Gabriel, is it?” Barren’s eyes squinted. “I remember you running like a puppy after His Highness.” He averted his gaze to me. “Cordelia, you seem to exchange lovers more often than dresses.” William laughed.
Gabriel’s hands turned into fists, but before he managed to reply to William’s foul remark, I spoke, “I would wish you luck in the upcoming battle, yet all I can hope for is for your people to have a quick, painless death: for they do not deserve to pay for the mistakes of their incompetent leader.” I turned to the guard that stood by Barren’s side.
“If you want to live, call for all of the commanders that are currently here. Now.”
The poor guard with black as night hair glanced between me and Barren—his eyes filling with fear when Barren’s lips turned into the ugliest of smiles—yet he stood still by his side, nevertheless.
“You cannot give orders to my people, dear Cordelia.” Barren smirked, the greasy strand of white hair falling onto his forehead.
“Soon you will have no people to order around.” I unsheathed my dagger, averting my gaze back to the guard. “Do as I say, or this dagger finds its place in His Grace’s heart.”
Barren’s laughter echoed through the court room, yet it was cut short when I let go of the dagger, sending it flying inches from Barren’s ear, piercing straight in between the two stones behind his head.
If I said it was pure skill, I would be lying, for that was the first time I managed to throw a dagger successfully without Francis’ presence and advice.
Barren’s face turned the shade of his hair, glancing behind him at my successful throw. William swallowed, turning to his guard, who drew his sword in an instant—the guard’s hands visibly shook as he held the sword in our direction. None of us batted an eye.
“Summon the commanders." Barren told the guard, who offered him a swift nod before hurrying out of the courthall, his sword still drawn.
“I suggest you listen to me moving forward, William.” I smiled. “I have more daggers to spare.”