“Furball!”
“Oh, for sea’s sake,” Aerity grumbled. “You frightened me to death.”
Wyneth stood. “He needs to go out. What time is it? Gracious, the sun is already halfway up the sky!”
The door to their cabin burst open and three faces vied in the doorway. Paxton, Lief, and Harrison all stared in at them, worried.
“It was only Vix being licked to death by Furball,” Aerity said.
The men relaxed and put their weapons away.
Harrison snapped his fingers at the creature. “Come, Furball. I’ll feed you and take you to the top deck.”
“Thank you,” Wyneth said. The two of them shared a gaze that made Vixie and Aerity smile at each other. Then Wyneth said, “I think I’ll come with you to stretch my legs.”
Harrison and Wyneth left with Furball at their heels. Lief glowered at their backs and eventually left as well.
“What time is it?” Aerity asked Paxton.
He leaned against the doorframe and watched her with heavy, dark eyes. “I’d say after ten.”
“So late already?” Aerity exclaimed.
“There was no need to wake you.”
Vixie watched the two of them staring at each other, and it suddenly made her cheeks go hot. She cleared her throat and untangled her legs from the blanket.
“I’m going above for some air.”
They didn’t even acknowledge her, just kept their eyes locked. Vixie walked past Paxton and he went straight into the cabin, closing the door behind him. She gaped. Her sister was alone with a lad! In a room with a bed! What would Father say? Her stomach dropped and she blinked back a feeling of shock, remembering her father would never again enforce rules of propriety on them.
The princess stared at the closed door for a moment longer before shaking her head and making a direct line for the steps, giving her sister as much space as possible. She met Lief at the top, looking as if he was planning to go back down the steps.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He seemed taken aback at her questioning. “To see your sister and let her know where she will need to be during the attack.”
“You can’t go down there right now. She’s . . . indisposed. But I’d like to hear the plans, if you don’t mind.”
He glanced toward the stairs before turning back to Vixie and relenting. “The plan is for you, Aerity, and Lady Wyneth to remain in Craw Coorie when the fighting begins. You will have your own troop with you at all times. They will lead you back toward royal lands, if and when the path is cleared and safe.”
Vixie hummed. “So we are not to fight.”
“Of course not.”
She scowled at him. “I know how to shoot a bow.”
He put his face close to hers. “Shooting a target is not the same as shooting another person, Princess. Be prepared for your first kill to feel as if you yourself were shot in the heart as well.”
Vixie’s heart quickened. “Is that how it felt for you?”
Lief watched her. “Their blood will stain you. It becomes part of you. No matter how justified the kill.”
Vixie swallowed. “All right.” It came out as a croaked whisper.
Lief nodded. “I’ll speak to Aerity once she’s dressed and above deck.” He began to turn, but then paused and looked back at the stairwell, eyes scrunched. “I never saw Paxton come up.”
“Nay,” Vixie said. “He is still below.”
She crossed her arms and waited as his face slowly went slack. The boat began to move, causing both of them to shift.
“Are we docking?” Vixie asked.
He nodded, still lost in his own mind. She saw the muscle at his temple working, and his arm muscles flexed. She had no idea what he was thinking, but Vixie was fairly certain there would be more blood staining Lief Alvi’s soul that evening when the battle began. Much more.
Once they disembarked, the late morning flew past, with people whittling spears, stringing bows, and sharpening blades. It was so cold out that the royal lasses were each brought cloaks. Soon, it was time to say their good-byes to the Ascomannians and ride northeast along Loch River to the town of Craw Coorie. Vixie had been there twice before on travels, and had always loved the historical feel of the place, with its smashed-together old, leaning shops tucked away within hills and valleys. It was one of the largest towns in the kingdom, lined with small thatched houses, sheep farms, and flower fields.
The place was deserted when they arrived at midafternoon. Soldiers and armed townsmen milled about, discussing and preparing. The girls took their horses to the stables. Vixie noticed the tremor in Aerity’s hands as she petted Jude’s nose, her eyes distant.
“Aer?” Vixie whispered. Her sister looked at her and reached for her hand. Vixie took it. She couldn’t imagine the weight on Aerity’s shoulders.
“I don’t want my people to die,” she said. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t left . . . and then if I had accepted King Dagur’s offer in the first place . . .”
“That is in the past,” Vixie said. “All you can do is learn from it and look to the future.”
Wyneth, having heard the conversation, joined them.
“Even if you had stayed, or accepted his offer, Kalor would have attacked and your people would be fighting. Nothing you could have done differently would have stopped him. I believe even if your father had lifted laws against magic, Prince Vito still would have invaded.”
“You’re probably right,” Aerity said. Her face soured. “To think . . . if I hadn’t escaped, we’d be married right now.”
Vixie felt a spasm of disgust go up her spine. “Thank the seas.”
A low thrumming sound came from the distance and the ground shook slightly under their feet. Their eyes went large. Paxton and Harrison came running over.
“It’s probably the Torestans,” Harrison said, easing their worry.
Together, surrounded by their protecting troops, they climbed the hill that hid Craw Coorie from the south. Vixie inhaled a huge breath at the glorious sight of hundreds of men on horseback, spread across the grassy field. She couldn’t help but smile. The troops surrounding them let out a raucous cheer in greeting, the steam of their voices rising up into the frigid air.
When the foreign army arrived, led by Lochlan men, Vixie’s eyes went directly to Tiern. Paxton saw him at the same time and jogged over. They grasped wrists and Tiern dismounted, embracing his brother with a hearty smack on the shoulder. They both laughed. Vixie’s insides swirled at the sight of him smiling, safe. Tiern’s head turned to her and his smile fell. Paxton looked back and forth between them before giving his younger brother one last pat and walking away.
Tiern did not come to her, though. He gave his attention to his horse. Vixie stood there, contemplating what to do as she tugged her cloak tighter around herself. Here they were, on the cusp of battle, both lucky to still be alive, and yet they were not speaking. She lifted her skirts and went to him.
“I’m glad to see you are well, Tiern.”
He undid clasps and buckles, staying busy. “Same for you, Princess.”
“Please, stop a moment.”
He paused, his hands leaning against his horse, then he turned fully to her.
“I don’t take surprises well,” Vixie said. “Or being left out. I understand if you are upset with me—”
“It’s you who’s upset with me, isn’t it?” He cocked his head.
“Nay.” Her insides began to right themselves. “Perhaps at first, but no longer.”
“So . . . we are all right, then?”
She gave him a bashful smile. “I do have one selfish request.” He waited while she worked up the nerve. “Paxton has agreed to stay back as part of the troops who will guard Aerity and me during the battle. I was hoping you could as well.”
His eyebrows drew together. “I’m sorry, Vix, but I’ve promised the Zandalee I will return to Dovedell and fight with them. I only came to see you—erm, all of you—before the ba
ttle.”
Fear jolted her. “Surely we can send another in your place.”
His eyes softened. “I must go. Our chances are good. Please don’t worry.”
She let out a shaky breath. How could she not worry?
“Is that you, Princess Vixie?”
Both of their heads turned toward the voice. A lean, sturdy Torestan lad with a fine face and royal uniform buttoned to his neck came forward, flanked by five Torestan soldiers. Vixie studied him. He looked familiar. Then her mind lit up.
“Prince Hanriil of Toresta?”
The lad smiled. “It has been a long time.”
She tried to remember the last time she’d seen King Gavriil Cliftonia’s son. “Three years,” she said. “The updated Eurona pact signing.”
“Dreadful,” he said, and they both laughed.
From the corner of her eye she saw Tiern rock back on his heels with his hands behind his back, watching their interaction.
“Prince Hanriil, this is the hunter Tiern Seabolt. He joined the great hunt and had a hand in slaying the beast.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say . . .” Tiern mumbled but stopped and simply gave a respectful bow. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Highness.”
“And you, hunter,” the prince replied before shifting his full attention back to Vixie. “I was very sorry to learn of your parents’ fate, Princess.”
Vixie dropped her eyes and nodded as a sharp ache landed in her chest.
“They were the kindest rulers in all the lands,” he continued. “I always enjoyed our visits to Lochlanach, and I wish I were here under better circumstances.”
She finally looked at him, trying to stand tall.
“You resemble her very much, your mother,” he said, the reverence in his voice making her swallow a burn of moisture. “Remember how angry she was when they found us under the dock, collecting crabs and covered in mud?”
Vixie let out a laugh, wiping the corners of her eyes. “I only remember how much convincing it took you to go under that dock in the first place.” He’d been so lanky and overcautious. He’d certainly grown out of that awkwardness, though.
The prince grinned. “I was fifteen. Too old to be playing in mud.”
“But you had fun,” Vixie teased.
“I did.”
Tiern cleared his throat, and nodded his head toward officers who were beginning to gather and call everyone in for planning. Prince Hanriil peered over his shoulder before giving Vixie a tight look. “I’ve got to go.”
“Are you to fight?” Vixie asked.
“I am. My first battle. I have trained two years, despite my father’s wishes, and I am honored to be at your service.” He gave her a bow from the waist, which she returned.
“Seas be with you.” She prayed he would return to his father unharmed.
“And the winds with you.”
He left, and when Vixie looked back at Tiern his mouth was in a straight line and her tummy flipped. By the seas . . . is he jealous?
“He’s an old friend,” she explained.
Tiern gave a slow nod. “A delightful prince of an old friend.”
Vixie propped a hand on her hip. “If you wished to ward him off, you could have simply kissed me. I’ve heard that strategy works well.”
Tiern’s eyes rounded, and Vixie pressed her fingers to her lips to hold back a laugh at her boldness.
“Perhaps next time I will, little sea star,” he said threateningly.
Vixie dropped her hand from her mouth and smiled outright. “I’ll hold you to that.” A quiet comfort formed between them, and Vixie lost her mirth. “Be safe, Tiern. Seas be with you.”
“And also with you.”
Chapter
47
Aerity stood in a small room of a house in the valley of Craw Coorie, peering down at a map of Lochlanach with Harrison and two senior officers. They had gone over every detail of the plan with her. Enticing Kalor’s troops into the narrow land between the rivers was ideal because it would even their chances by thinning the Kalorian troops and not allowing them to outnumber the allies. And if the Zorfinans could sneak attack from the northern end of the waterways, it would trap the enemy. They would never make it near Craw Coorie, but a plan was in place to move the queen, princess, and lady farther north if the fighting moved farther than expected.
“What if they do not leave royal lands to attack?” Aerity asked.
Harrison sighed. “Then we will have to come up with a new plan to attack directly.”
“Your Majesty,” said the senior officer, “once we are able to storm the castle, we recommend taking Prince Vito captive so that after the battle is over there can be a public execution.”
The room was quiet as the men watched for her reaction. Aerity thought about it. A public execution would show her strength as a ruler and send a message that she did not take enemies of her kingdom lightly. But this was Prince Vito they were talking about. She shook her head.
“I cannot take the chance of his escaping. He is not to be underestimated. My orders are to kill him on sight, any way possible. Same goes for Rozaria Rocato.”
The officer gave a nod. “Do we have your permission to exhibit their bodies for the public to see?”
Her stomach turned. “Just this once, and not for an extended period. I will not make a habit of morbid displays of power.”
Voices outside made Harrison go to the window. “Townspeople are arriving from Dovedell and bordering villages. We’re told there will be Lochlan Lashed among them—people from your camps who are willing to lay hands on the enemy, and heal our men who are injured along the way.”
“I wish to address them,” Aerity said. “Gather everyone in the town center.”
The officers shared a glance before agreeing. She knew they wanted to keep her hidden and as far as possible from all people and the battle, but Aerity hated letting everyone fight while she sat back, comfortable and safe. All she had to offer them were her words, and so she would give them.
Each and every life entering the battle weighed on Aerity. She couldn’t believe King Gavriil had sent his son—granted, it was his second son, and his soldiers had insisted he not be allowed on the front lines. In fact, his battalion remained in Craw Coorie as the last line of defense. The insolent look on Prince Hanriil’s face when he’d been overruled had so reminded her of Vixie. She’d had to hold back her amusement.
Once the people were all ushered into the town square, Aerity was led to the center, where she climbed a raised platform used for town meetings. As soon as she appeared, the crowd broke into a cheer that made her cheeks warm and her chest tighten. She looked out upon regular townsmen and townswomen who stood alongside Lochlan soldiers and Torestan soldiers. It was a beautiful yet saddening sight. She let her voice rise into the wintry air.
“Good people of Lochlanach and Toresta! My heart aches to see you, and longs for better circumstances for our gathering. Among you there are farmers and fishermen, blacksmiths and bakers, Lashed and Unlashed, fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. I extend my fondest gratitude to each one of you for being here, willing to fight for our way of life—a life I hope to enrich during my rule—a life that will surely see further strife and wickedness if we do not take back what is ours.
“The time to rely on one another is now. Look around at those who stand beside you. Today I lift the laws against magic, for all of your benefit. Today, the Lashed who stand at your side will be there to heal you if you fall. You need not fear one another. I promise that when this battle is over, and victory is ours, I will spend my life working to repair a century’s worth of injustice done against each one of you, who has suffered knowingly or not, by what you have been denied.
“The enemy claims to be a friend of the Lashed, but he is a friend of no one. I have seen firsthand that the ruler of Kalor seeks power through fear and hate. He wishes to use magic for his own benefit, not for the good of the people, and I will not stand for it! This is an enemy who doe
s not value life and will kill any who stand in the way of his domination over all Eurona. I pray to the seas that justice is swift and we can begin our lives anew very soon. To each of you, I bestow my heartfelt gratitude for your courage and valor. The seas be with you.”
A murmur of “Also with you” rose up from the crowd, and all were respectfully quiet as Aerity was escorted away.
Two Lochlan women and a Lochlan man, wearing rags that were splattered with blood, ran as quickly as they could toward the royal gate. Each had fear in their hearts for what they were about to do, but that fear was overridden by their desire to help Queen Aerity in any way they could.
The sky was darkening as the sun set. Their panting breaths left trails of steam in their wake. The man suddenly skidded to a halt and held out his arms to stop the women. Their eyes followed his up to the top of the stone wall.
Their hands went up, trembling in the air, at the sight of Kalorian soldiers lining the wall, arrows pointed directly at them. The Lochlan man stepped forward and fell to his knees, his arms still up.
“P-please. We are under attack. They are killing all the Lashed!”
“My son!” wept one of the women, clutching her chest.
The Kalorians peered around at the empty fields and hills behind them, and then murmured to one another. One of them held a palm up to them, as if telling them to wait. Both women were crying in earnest, their fear apparent.
Moments later the gates opened just enough to show a Kalorian lord with a severe, long face. He stared at them, a lip curled in repulsion at their appearance, and then his eyes narrowed at the sight of the man’s hands.
“Come closer . . . now stop. Hold up your hands.”
Three pairs of dirty, shaking hands came slowly up for the man to see the lines on their nails.
“Ah.” He relaxed a small fraction. “Lochlan Lashed. Why have you come?”
“Please, sir,” said the man. “We heard you have many Lashed among you, that you’re a friend of the magical folk, that you’re going to change the laws around here.” The man swallowed hard, still trying to catch his breath. The Kalorian said nothing, so the Lochlan kept going. “They want you gone—”