Blood & Stone: The Saboteur Chronicles Book 3 Read online

  Did I feel hatred?

  No. A small wonder considering that he’d been raised his whole life to hate her people; there was also the fact that the Eval had killed his mother. Still, he did not feel hatred.

  Fear?

  No. She had him dead to rights. Her hands were steady. Her face lined with grim determination. Still, he was not afraid.

  No. What I felt was awe. I thought she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said as he descended his horse, his hands high above his head.

  “You’re an Anthenian, you’re trespassing on my land, you’ve got a sword on your hip; tell me more about your intent?”

  “I was just riding.” He took a step to the left of his horse and she snarled and lunged forward, drawing the arrow tighter. “Whoa, I was just trying to stretch my legs; I’ve been in the saddle for some time.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  The lines on her face grew darker.

  “Okay, fair enough. Your land, your questions. I get it.” He cleared his throat. “It seemed like a nice day for a ride. I needed to clear my head.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Will anyone come looking for you?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “My hand is starting to grow tired, Anthenian. I’m afraid I might lose my grip if I have to keep repeating myself.”

  “Point taken.” He could see the hand holding the string beginning to shake from the effort. If the arrow slipped, he was dead; it was going right through his heart. “Yes. If I’m gone too long there are some that may grow worried and they may send a search party after me.”

  “Who are you,” she asked.

  He thought for a moment, a list of fake names and titles flipping through his head. “Byron Shalewind.”

  Her surprise was evident. “As in King Shalewind’s son?”

  “Guilty.”

  “Why would you tell me that?” She shook her head as she spoke, her thick, black curls wrapping around her neck like a basket of serpents. “Why not pass yourself off as some peasant gone astray?”

  “Perhaps you’d simply kill a peasant. But perhaps you’ll see the value in keeping a king’s son relatively intact.”

  She lowered the bow and returned the arrow to its quiver. “Fortune smiles on you today, I’m not who you think I am.”

  He approached her with caution. “I may have never crossed blades with one of your kind, but I’m certain you’re an Eval.”

  “Only by blood!” she growled her curt response.

  “I apologize for my hasty assumption. Would you mind if I joined you in…whatever it is that you’re doing?” He extended a hand toward the basket on her arm.

  She nodded shallowly. “But keep your distance.”

  They spent the rest of the day together, parting only when the moon began poking its nose above the horizon. They made no plans to meet again, but that didn’t stop Byron from returning the next day and the day after. And from then on, their love blossomed. It was a natural progression; friendship, built on trust, love built on friendship. It moved fast, but nothing was forced, each piece of the puzzle was a natural fit, sliding in effortlessly beside the next. There was no conscious decision to touch. To kiss. To make love. It just happened.

  He snapped back to the present moment. “I thought…beautiful. That’s what I thought when I first saw you.”

  “You weren’t afraid?”

  “Of what?”

  “I could have shot you.”

  “I was only afraid you’d shoot me before telling me your name. To die not knowing the name of something so lovely would be a cruel fate.”

  “Such a talker.” She kissed him. “How many girls have fallen victim to that silver tongue?”

  “I’m afraid you’re the only one foolish enough to have walked into its snare.”

  “I suppose there are worse traps to be tangled in.”

  “So what about you?” he asked. “What did you think when you first saw me?”

  “I was scared. I couldn’t see this.” Her fingers traced the lines of his face. “Perhaps if I had—”

  “You’d have melted. You’d have dropped that bow and given me your unconditional surrender.”

  She laughed. “But the sun was in my eyes. All I could see was your armor and the sword on your hip. So I was scared. Not of you.” She drifted for a moment. “No, I was scared…of having to kill. I’d never killed anyone. I still haven’t. I certainly have no desire to start.”

  Her sentiment was familiar to him. “I’ve seen many battles take place along the wall; they were ugly, mind-scarring affairs. Thankfully, I was never forced to play a part in them; men better and braver than I fought and died to protect Anthena while I stood watching from the safety of the ramparts, forced by my title to play the part of the coward.”

  The palms of her hands were cool against his face. “You’re a good man, Byron. A sweet man. You’re too hard on yourself. You’ll make a fine King.”

  “I don’t want the throne. I just want you.”

  “And I want you. But there are parts of our destiny that cannot be rewritten, pages for which we hold no pen.”

  He knew she was right. He couldn’t just run off. If he didn’t return to Anthena, they’d come looking for him, and if they came looking for him, they’d find Aurora.

  She propped her elbows on his chest and held her face in her hands. “Where do you think the sun goes?” Just like her fellow Eval, Aurora’s face was all sharp edges; her lips red, her eyelashes long and thick.

  “That’s a random question.”

  She shrugged. “One to remove your mind from its present darkness.”

  “My mother always told me that it rests in the fire fields beyond the western shore.”

  “And the moon?”

  “She never told me any stories of the moon.” He sighed and held her tight. The aching in his chest intensified as the hour of his departure grew closer. How could something so pure and beautiful be forbidden? “If I could, I would stop the sun in the sky and hold you here for eternity.”

  “What if I prefer the moon?” She ran her fingers through his unruly hair.

  “Then so be it, the moon is no match for me,” he shouted at the sky.

  She kissed him and he kissed her back harder. “And what if I want them both?”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Start by uniting Anthenian and Eval and then I’ll believe you capable of such a task.”

  Byron looked back in the direction of Anthena. “If your people would stop their aggression, perhaps I could manage that task.”

  Aurora shoved off of him and sat back on the grass, tying her blouse, her face twisted in anger. “You know they are not my people. They haven’t been my people for many years.” She turned her face away from him as tears began to swell in her eyes. Her parents had fled from the Eval when she was young. They’d built a small home in the grasslands beneath the shade of an Aspen grove after they’d escaped and it was there they’d remained ever since. “Sometimes I think you say such things to me because I’m the closest thing you have to the enemy. I didn’t start this war. Me…my family…we want no part of it. That’s why we left. It’s why we hide. From your people and our own. You have no idea how that feels.”

  He scrambled after her, trying to hold her, but she pulled her knees to her chest and leaned away. “I’m sorry, Aurora. I misspoke. I didn’t start this war, either. You know I’m not out to hurt you.”

  She shook her head. “No, sometimes I don’t. How long can we go on like this?” She looked at him woefully. “I love you, but this is not a life. I don’t want to live out my years sneaking around, being afraid that someone might be watching. Being with you has brought so much good, but it isn’t without great cost: the greatest of all being peace. I have no peace. What little I had is now gone.”

&nbs
p; “I promise you will have peace again. Look at me, Aurora.” He tugged at one of her knees. “Aurora, please.”

  She faced him, sitting cross-legged, looking at her lap.

  “When my father dies and I am king, everything will be different. I will have the power to change things, to change our laws. I will walk you proudly through the front gates and you will rule Anthena at my side. Together we can bring peace to this land.”

  She took his hand in her own and squeezed; her eyes were shimmering and full of doubt. “But don’t you understand? What you say, it’s impossible. A beautiful dream, but a dream nonetheless. Your people, the Anthenians, they would tear me apart. They would break my body against the rocks.”

  He could feel her slipping away. “No!” He pulled her by the arm and hugged her ferociously, his voice choked. “I promise you, we will be together! I will protect you! We will unite this land! I swear it, by your gods and my own!”

  ***

  His time with Aurora had cleared his head. He was walking circles in the throne room, bringing his heels down hard with each step just to listen to the echo. Aurora’s words rang in his ears.

  There are parts of our destiny that cannot be rewritten.

  Yeah, he thought to himself, but it doesn’t mean you can’t try.

  Hinges squealed as the door to the kitchen opened. He could tell by the delicate footsteps that it was his sister.

  “If you’ve come to further humiliate me, I’m afraid you’ll find yourself lacking an audience; I’m alone.”

  She crept up on his left. “I get it, you’re mad at me. But I wasn’t trying to humiliate you with father. Is that what’s got you so sore?”

  “It’s everything. It’s you complaining every single time I take a moment for myself and—”

  “A moment for yourself? You were absent while we were being attacked. Do you think I’m the only person that notices your absence? No, the people see it too, Byron. What’s worse is you don’t seem to give a damn.”

  “I—”

  “And when do I get a moment for myself? I’m too busy holding all of the pieces together; I’m lucky if I get a chance to breathe.”

  “Can I speak now?”

  “By all means.”

  “Being absent during the attack was terrible timing on my part. As far as what happened with Father, yes, I was angry about that. Do you think I need you to stick up for me? You’ve been sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong since we were kids. And not just with father. It was the bullies behind the tavern when we were eight. It was the soldiers if you felt like they were talking down to me. Any chance you got to puff your chest and make me look weak, you took it. Are you jealous, Roserine? Is that it? You want the throne?”

  “Jealousy? Is that what you think this is about? You’ve had all this time to ponder what happened between us and all that you can come up with is some paranoid, conspiracy theory? Tell me, what do I have to be jealous of?”

  “Let me make it simple: I don’t need you.”

  “Then prove it. Stop acting like a foolish boy and lead this Kingdom for once. Every time you go north of the wall, I’m the one left to stand in the gap. For all of Father’s faults, he never once forced the weight of his responsibilities on another. You’re so critical of him, but you’ve yet to attempt to live up to him.”

  “I had no way of knowing the Eval would attack! Do you think I’d intentionally leave you to deal with that on your own?”

  “Of course you had no way of knowing, but it’s not just that. People don’t respect me the way they respect you. Eirik couldn’t have made that any clearer to me. Father isn’t long for this world. You’re the piece holding everything together. If something happens to you, I don’t know if I can do it. I know it’s sudden. It’s a lot to deal with, trust me, I get it. But you know I have your back, even when you don’t want me there. Anthena has your back. We just need you to have ours.”

  Byron sighed and began to regret the harsh tone he’d taken with her. When he looked at her face with clear eyes, it wasn’t jealousy he saw, it was fear.

  “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

  “You can’t just keep running away from this. Whatever freedom you’ve found out there,” she gestured toward the wall, “you need to learn to find it here, among your people.”

  “Roserine, I said I’m sorry.”

  She walked into his arms and sat her face against his chest. “I lost Mother. I’m losing Father. I can’t lose you.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed hard. “You’re not going to lose me.” He could feel all of the tension leaving her body. It was obvious she’d been waiting for someone to hold her and tell her that it was going to be okay. “You can stand down now. I’ve got this, I promise.”

  She hugged him a little tighter. “Thank you.” She stepped back. “And since you’re officially back on the throne, you should probably go get ready to make your speech.”

  “Speech? What speech?”

  “About the attack and the conscriptions. People are going to be angry. Sad. Scared. They’re going to want answers. Word was sent out this morning. They’ve started gathering outside the bailey, so you don’t have much time. Get washed up and wear something fit for a king; the people need to see you at your best, they need to be reassured.”

  He started walking toward the staircase. “Maybe you could get down there and start melting the ice for me?”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Go!”

  ***

  Emily stood and watched as the crowd filled in across the large meadow on the west side of the castle. Behind her was the door to the outer bailey and above her head soldiers stood on the ramparts. To her right was the north wall. The exit to the lands beyond was heavily guarded; there were soldiers stacked on the wall and milling through the crowd.

  “Emily!” It was Coen. But he looked different: he wore a leather breastplate, gauntlets, and a sword on his hip.

  “What’s this?” Her stomach dropped.

  “I signed up, I’m a soldier now.” His chest was puffed, his hips slightly cocked, turning the sword in her direction as if she were supposed to be impressed by the display.

  She shook her head. “Why would you do that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? I’m a citizen of Anthena, a follower of the Five Tenets. Why someone else and not me?”

  “Not everyone has to carry a sword to serve Anthena. I know it may not seem like it to you, but your role at the docks is an important one. Any man can swing a sword.”

  “And any man can haul a wine cask.”

  “You’re very frustrating.”

  “You’re worried about me, it’s cute.”

  She twisted away as he tried to touch her. “Yeah, I’m worried because you’re being an idiot.”

  He laughed. “Well, that’s nothing new, I’m sort of known for being an idiot. Any idea when this idiot is going to see you again?”

  “You’re seeing me right now.”

  “Come on, don’t be like that.”

  She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Are you going to take me to the tavern again to try to get me drunk?”

  “I wasn’t trying to get you drunk; you did that just fine on your own.”

  “You certainly weren’t objecting.”

  “There’s not much you could do that I would object to…well, other than not going out with me again.”

  She had to admit, he struck a fine form in his armor; tall and well muscled from the years spent bending and lifting in the hot sun. If it came to a fight, strength wouldn’t be the issue. It’d be temperament and experience. The Eval were natural killers, with beast blood coursing through their veins. Coen was kind. He was gentle. Could he kill, even if he wanted to?

  “Come on, say yes.” Coen’s smile grew.

  “Fine, yes. But you better lose that stupid uniform first.”

  “As you wish.” Coen kissed her on the cheek and her heart felt like it was going to explode.

  “Get ou
t of here. Go guard something unimportant.”

  She watched him go. It was only Roserine’s arrival that pulled her back into the moment.

  “You look quite perky.”

  “I saw Coen.”

  “Oh?”

  “He was wearing armor and a sword.” Emily shook her head. “You should have seen him strutting around in his gear; the fool.”

  “He’s always been stubborn.” Roserine wrapped an arm around Emily’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’ll talk to Eirik and have him assign Coen to something innocuous, like the market or city patrol.”

  “Thank you.” Emily reached up and squeezed her hand.

  “Did the armor suit him?”

  “Very much, my lady.”

  She and Roserine gossiped back and forth, arms linked, observing the ever-expanding assembly. From somewhere in the crowd a fiddle and flute began to play, soaring above the chatter. It wasn’t long before a single drum joined the accompaniment, marrying its hollow ratta-tat-tat seamlessly with the twangy lilt. Some of the more restless citizens took notice of Roserine and began approaching. Some yelled. Others cried. They were confused and looking for answers.

  “My boy, he never came home from the mine. The soldiers, they tell us nothing. Is he okay?”

  “Eirik just took our boy! Took him right off the docks! He’s a fisherman! He’s no soldier!”

  “What’s being done about the Eval? Our boy’s blood runs in the gutters and still, you do nothing!”

  A line of soldiers placed themselves in front of Roserine and Emily and began pushing the crowd back.

  “The King will be speaking shortly and I promise that you will have your answers. Please, be patient.” Roserine’s words fell on deaf ears.

  “You spoke with Byron?” Emily asked.

  “I did. I think he’s coming around.”

  Emily nodded doubtfully; she’d believe it when she saw it for herself.

  It wasn’t long before Byron appeared. He stood off to the right of Roserine, atop a stack of wooden crates, guarded by Eirik and a legion of his best men. He was all smiles and splendor, wearing a polished breastplate with a thin red cape attached to his back. The sword on his hip glinted in the sun as he rotated back and forth, waving. Some in the crowd waved back, some shouted obscenities and accusations; most did nothing and looked on with fear and frustration, furrowing their brows.