Chapter 19 - Graie

I'm a bad person.

It's not the first time I've thought about it, but the steady stream of hatred that's been marching in a circle around my head while I watch Samn and Fiyr share their little jokes and private laughs is making me more sure than ever that I really am a bad, bad person.

Still, knowing that I'm not a paragon of virtue for wishing they'd both fall off a cliff is no consolation to walking behind them in stony silence. Sir Strommer's taken the lead and Mauzian Fyrra and I are bringing up the rear.

"It's almost Berrystar's Morn," Lady Fyrra comments.

I mm-hm, hardly listening as my eyes bore holes into the back of Fiyr's head. You'd think years of separation would lessen the strain between us, but some days I still wake up and forget and I get halfway to his room before the memories of sharp words and balled fists encourage me to turn my feet away.

Plain and simple, I miss my best friend. Maybe it would have been easier if Ravne were still around, or if I could see Silaverre at court everyday and my days didn't feel so… empty. They're hardly slovenly, but weeks slip past me with nothing to mark them as different from any of the others.

I shake off the thoughts and focus on the world around me. I've never been one for appreciating nature, though, and it's not long before my thoughts slide back into all the ways I could throw Fiyr off of a tree. Stop it, I order myself. Think about anything else—anyone else.

I can't say I'm entirely surprised when my brain takes that to mean 'Think about Sila'. Far be it from me to complain, though. Unlike the uncomfortable, twisting feeling that accompanies thoughts of Fiyr and dwelling on the fact that he and Samn have suddenly gotten very, very close, thinking of Sila warms my chest. And despite the snow having entirely melted into a muddy, rainy spring, I've needed warmth lately.

Sounds like Garais, Sila snorted.

Oh yeah? I feign nonchalance but lean forward all the same, intrigued.

What, are you jealous? She gives me that half-grin and I'm floored again.

N—no. Don't need to be. People are jealous of me, that's how it works. I pretend to flex. She pretends to swoon.

Pretending, pretending, pretending. My eyes are fixed on a point above the horizon but the world around me is blurring as Quicksilver continues forward. Someday we'll stop pretending. We'll be together in front of the world and no one will say a word against us. It's getting there that's the problem.

"Do you feel that?" Sir Strommer suddenly stops the patrol. Lady Fyrra, who was half-falling asleep in her saddle, snaps to attention and Samn breaks off mid-snicker to pay attention. "It… I thought… maybe nothing, forget it."

"Blessed Starlaxi, is that Shodawes trace?" Fiyr breaks in.

"I feel it too," Lady Fyrra agrees uneasily, her gaze flitting from right to left. "It's hard to tell…"

I know what she means; we're right by the Cockatrice Ruins so it's hard to sense the trace of much of anything under the sour trace of the cockatrices, but I definitely detect a hint of pine and evil.

"Blessed Starlaxi, what is that?" Lady Fyrra asks aloud in a whisper, staring off at where the woods meet the fields. For a moment I'm not sure what she's looking at, then I spot the dark, still shape. It almost looks like a giant boulder, but as Sir Strommer tentatively moves us closer, I check the Trace and realize that it's a giant, dead boar. And it reeks of Shodawa.

"We need to tell the queen!" Samn exclaims. That's his solution to everything; the contribution is no surprise.

"Agreed," Sir Strommer answers, sharing a glance with Mauzian, then back at the boar with a sickened expression. "Come on, straight back to the castle. If they're in our territory right now, we need to attack without delay. Grab the boar, we'll need it."

Lady Fyrra grabs it and hauls it back to her horse, tying it over its back with some difficulty.

What was a ride through the forest on a routine patrol a second ago is now making adrenaline course through my veins in anticipation of a battle. Shodawa, attacking? But we put King Naitienne on the throne! I see my outrage reflected in the carefully contained expressions of the rest of the patrol. They would attack us out of nowhere?! Or at the very least, trespass!

Sir Strommer's horse whinnies as he gives it a sharp spur forward and the five of us take off back into the forest, never getting close enough to the Cockatrice Ruins to even hear a croak from the beasts. As we whip through the trees, my arm catches on a branch and my sleeve tears. A thin line of fire traces up my arm; it's bleeding.

Somehow, my mind occupied with Shodawa and Sila and Samn and Fiyr and my bloody arm, part of me manages to miss Ravne all the same. Two in each hand. No one wants Ravne's cockatrice in their mouth! Play-fights with Fiyr and him. Tackling him to the ground and both of us popping up with dirt-streaked cheeks and laughter ringing in the air. My chest aches and the wind beats a tear out of my eye as we continue the mad dash through Thundrian's woods.

Then Ravne's washed away in the heat of the impending battle as well, and we gallop back to the castle.

…

"I need to see the queen, Sir Cawle," Sir Strommer insists.

The captain of the guard is unmoved.

"She's out. Tell me what happened."

The rest of the patrol and I are silent, watching the two powerhouses of the Thundrian court stare each other down, wondering who's going to give in first.

"Fine." Sir Strommer sighs, looking weary. An uncomfortable current runs through my stomach at the victory of Sir Cawle. "We've found Shodawes trace by the Cockatrice Ruins. A dead boar, looking like it was killed by a Shodawes knight. Or… patrol."

Sir Cawle's dark eyes light on fire. "What?"

The other knight nods gravely.

"We must attack at once." The decision's made in an instant. Even though I was certain it was coming, I'm still taken aback by how fast he's picked the course of action. "I'll assemble a battle patrol. I want both of you."

Both of who? But he's already jerking his thumb at Mauzian and Whit. A shameful wash of relief comes through my chest. Not me.

"The court must be informed," he adds, almost like an afterthought. "I'll call a meeting. Wait right here; I expect you to tell them all what's happened."

Alarm passes over Whit Strommer's face, but the knight nods all the same. "As you say."

Sir Cawle gives us a sharp nod and strides away, heading for the queen's chambers. Lady Fyrra drops the boar that she lugged through the doors on her back. I glance at Fiyr, waiting for him to say something- but he's already murmuring to Samn. Of course. I don't know why I'm surprised anymore.

I turn away, throat tightening. Whatever. I'm not on the battle patrol. I just have to wait while Sir Strommer tells the court what happened, and then wait while the patrol goes out to fight, and wait, and wait, and wait, until we know what's going to come of this.

It's not long before Sir Cawle's amplified growl rings through the castle. "Knights of Thundria, report to the throne room at once."

Knights of Thundria. So he's not taking squires. That rules out Samn, Duss, and Sewif as well as Fiyr and I after he ignored us in the throne room minutes ago. Then who's going on the battle patrol? Darriek Styrp, Liang Teyl, Sir Strommer and Lady Fyrra, Sir Wynnd, and Lady Peilte? That's about the size of a battle patrol, but then… there'd be no knights in the castle save for Fiyr and I.

Unnerve mixes into my veins and I hover on the edge of pointing this out to someone, but Sir Cawle's emerging from the queen's chambers and most of the court's already assembled. Too late.

"Knights of Thundria!" Sir Cawle shouts, his deep voice resonating deep into the stone walls. The air seems to quiver slightly as he stalks back and forth on the dais, evidently relishing his position as the leader of a righteous attack. "We've uncovered evidence of Shodawes trespassers!"

Air is sucked out of the room as the entire collected court draws a simultaneous gasp. Sir Cawle continues, playing up the drama to the crowd.

"Bring forth the boar!" he orders.

'Bring forth'? Seriously? I watch silently as Lady Fyrra struggles forward, hauling the slain beast. The court's attention is pinned to the wiry woman though, regardless of Sir Cawle's theatrics.

"We found Shodawes trace on and around it," Sir Strommer volunteers helpfully, only quickening the spread of the realization that a few members of the court have already come to by checking the Trace. "Near the Cockatrice Ruins."

"This will not go unpunished!" Sir Cawle shouts, eyes ablaze. He's enjoying this, I can tell, no matter how hard the set of his jaw is and however tightly his fingers have wrapped around the hilt of his sword. The unnerved feeling worsens. "We will attack at once!"

The court cheers, whipped up into a frenzy by Sir Cawle's theatrics.

"Lady Fyrra, Sir Strommer, Sir Wynnd, Lady Peilte, Sir Styrp, Sir Teyl, and I will ride out to the Cockatrice Ruins and out to the Shodawes border! They will not go unpunished!" he repeats, and the court raises a raucous cry of agreement in response, made of the voices of the knights he's named. Lady Fuor and Lady Faise uneasy glances.

I wait as Sir Cawle shouts for the patrol to prepare themselves for battle and meet him at the base of Thundria's castle's supporting trees and then watch as the members of the battle patrol file out the doors, grabbing swords and over-armour as they go. I still can't shake the feeling of dismay, even though it's the right answer. No matter how much Sir Cawle is deriving illicit enjoyment from stirring up the court into a frenzy, Shodawa is still the one breaking the law. They should be attacked.

So why do I still have this bad feeling?

Something trickles down my arm. I glance down and see that the place where the branch slashed me as I rode by is still bleeding; it's a bit of a deeper cut than I thought. Damn it. Looks like a visit to Yllowei is in my near future. When I look back up at the throne room, it's empty save for Sewif sulking on the steps of the dais.

Might as well get it done before I bleed on the stone, I decide, leaving Fiyr and Samn's side without a backward glance. They're occupied in quiet conversation anyway. I wish I could dispel the prickle of irritation I feel when I hear Fiyr laugh.

I nearly knock down Cindra as I enter the healer's wing and reach out to catch her before she falls back. She yelps and grabs my arms, yanking herself back on balance and jerking me forward. Our heads knock together.

"Ow!" I exclaim.

She stumbles back but catches herself miraculously and laughs, her hand flying to cradle her head. "My hero."

"Anytime," I snort and she scoots past me.

"Yllowei's in a great mood today," she whispers and then hurries into the throne room, leaving me to deal with the healer's 'great mood'.

Lady Fennen's upon me in a heartbeat, her yellow hawk eyes catching the light of the torches. "What's all the commotion about?"

"You didn't hear?" I'm surprised, but I shake it off as she scowls, clearly communicating the answer. "We found a dead boar; Shodawes trace. The captain's leading a battle patrol and heading to the border."

I half-expect her to snort dismissively but her gray, bushy eyebrows rise instead. "Shodawa? After we deposed their tyrant king all those years ago?"

I nod.

"Ungrateful imbéciles," she spits. "You're certain of the trace?"

"I felt it myself. Why?"

Yllowei's eyes dart up like she's considering something, then the line of her mouth tightens and she shakes her head. "I find it hard to believe Shodawa's attacking us. But be that as it may. What are you doing here?"

The unfriendly demand unexpectedly sends a memory of Spottalia flitting through my head. I haven't thought about her in a long time. I'm older than she was when she died. I shiver. She seemed worlds away from us… but I outlived her. Any of us could be next when this new clash with Shodawa is on the horizon.

"I—uh, I cut myself on a tree." I hold up my forearm for inspection.

The healer grunts and shuffles away to find salves and bandages. I try not to think about Spottalia, but this newfound realization has shaken me. I could be dead this time next year, or I could live to be a hundred until I can't see or smell and I just lie in my bed all day.

My reflection on my own mortality has to wait, though, because Yllowei has returned with a small jar and a handful of bandages. She hands me both.

"Well, what am I supposed to do with them?" I ask.

"Guess," she answers drily.

"Rub it in and put them on?"

"How will Thundria survive without your unfailingly brilliance to lead them through the darkness?" she snarks.

When I'm a hundred years old and toothless, I won't be a sarcastic little shit to all the young knights, I decide, popping the lid off the salve after a moment of fiddling with the clasp and dipping two fingers into the smooth, cool cream.

"Did you bring the boar back to the castle?" she breaks the silence by asking.

I blink. "Huh? Oh. Yeah, yeah, we did. Why?"

Her tightly-wound jaw twitches like it's ready to spring. "Show it to me."

Still carefully massaging the salve into my cut, I leave the healer's wing and motion to the dead animal on the floor of the throne room.

Yllowei's shoulders stiffen, but she hobbles toward it, then freezes and spits something that's probably bad to repeat in front of children in Old Shodawes.

"What's wrong?" I check the Trace, but it's still the same faded trace of Shodawa.

"That's not the trace of the court of Shodawa, you idiots!" Yllowei snaps, whirling around with her eyes ablaze. "That's the trace of Braukkin and his outlaws! You've forgotten the trace of his evil and Sir Cawle is about to attack an innocent court!"

Well, shit.

"What?! Braukkin's back?!" I exclaim.

"Keep your damned voice down!" she hisses back. "Yes! Now find someone to call off Sir Cawle and his dogs!"

There's no time to object to her calling all the knights of the court 'dogs' or argue that if there was ever a time to shout, now would be it; Braukkin and his outlaws could be on Thundrian soil at this very second and Shodawa is going to fight back righteously when we accidentally attack them without cause.

I start running for the squire's nooks; Brakken can stop Sir Cawle. We need to keep knights at the castle in case Braukkin is still on the territory. The knights… But it's just me and Fiyr. Then I just have to pray that he doesn't attack the castle and that Sir Cawle and his 'dogs' get back in time.

"Brakken!"

My squire pops his head out of his nook, alarmed by my tone. "What? What's happening? Are Sir Cawle and the knights back?"

"No—Brakken, the boar—the trace wasn't Shodawes, it was Braukkin's! The tyrant king's!" I can't get the words out fast enough. My squire cocks his head, eyes widening.

"So Shodawa…"

"Is innocent! Sir Cawle is going to attack an innocent court. You need to ride right now and tell them not to attack! Go!" I shout as he stumbles out of his nook, uniform rumpled and starts running for the doors of the castle. "Every second counts! Go as fast as you can, they're at the border."

My squire vanishes out the door but none of my panic is fading. There's still a chance that Braukkin is hanging around the territory. Terrible visions of Brakken being caught by the outlaws dance through my head, them pulling him down from his horse, an arrow catching him in the side as he rushes through the forest, of being caught in the battle between Shodawa, attacked unfairly, and Thundria, believing themselves righteous and Brakken going down in a flurry of life-force and flashing steel—

I press my palms to my temples and take a deep breath.

Should I tell the rest of the court? But what will that do besides cause mass panic? Ladies and elders can't stop a tyrant and his mercenaries. We can hide the children, though. Fiyr, Samn, and Duss can get ready to fight if need be.

My mind made up, I glance back at where Samn and Fiyr were. They've disappeared. I didn't notice Samn or Duss in the squire's nooks, so I head up the stairs toward the knights' quarters.

I rap on Fiyr's door.

"Coming!"

I cock an eyebrow; he sounds half-panicked and ragged. Did he notice Braukkin's trace? Impossible.

When the door finally pulls open, Fiyr only opens it a few centimetres.

"What?" he demands.

What's going on?

"I need to talk to you," I snap, put off by his strange behaviour.

"Can it wait?"

"No!"

"I—give me a minute," he mumbles and the door shuts again.

"Where'd Samn go after the battle patrol left?" I ask through the door.

"Um—I—I dunno," he calls back in the most unconvincing voice I've ever heard.

If I wasn't so preoccupied with our potential impending doom, I might have been able to put together what was going on. But as it stands, my priority is making sure the court is ready for a potential attack.

Finally, Fiyr bursts through the door and slams it behind him just as fast. I blink.

"What the f—"

"Let's talk somewhere else," he snaps and grabs my forearm in a mockery of how a lady would lay her hand over a knight's arm.

"Ow! Watch the bandages!" I retort, snatching my arm back. Fiyr is already halfway down the stairs. "What in the name of the Starlaxi has gotten into you?"

"What is so damn urgent that you need to talk to me about it right this second?" Fiyr spits instead of answering my question.

"Braukkin was the one who killed the boar. Shodawa's innocent."

He sucks in a breath. "What?"

"Braukkin was the one who killed the boar. Shodawa's—"

"You're saying Braukkin and his mercs could be on the territory now?! What do we do?!" Fiyr exclaims, beginning to pace. "Don't answer that. We need to tell everyone what's going on, get the vulnerable people to safety, and—where are Duss and Sewif? They can fight."

"That's why I was asking about Samn. Where is he?" I snap back.

"Somewhere!" Fiyr throws his hands up. "I'll find him and the other squires. You get the kids somewhere safe and take the elders, too."

Sometime I'll look back on this and be annoyed that he was ordering me around, but right now, there are more pressing issues. With a terse nod to him, I head for the elders' quarters first and knock on the door, trying to breathe a bit more slowly.

"Yes?" Dapplianne Tayel calls out from inside.

"May I enter?" I ask, still taking deep breaths.

"Yes, yes, come in," Wonne Eie croaks.

I push the door open and hover in the doorway, looking into each of their faces. "There… there's reason to believe a battle is coming."

"Yes. The storm on the horizon," Lady Eie agrees. "I foresaw."

Future-seeing life-force. Wouldn't have helped anyway; it could just as easily have been Shodawa's supposed trespassing. "You're right; it's coming now, and we need to get you all to safety!"

Sir Tyle and Sir Eyre exchange looks and then both push themselves out of their chairs. Lady Eie and Tayel stand as well, all seeming unshaken and agreeable.

I don't mind losing all my teeth if I become this unruffled by everything, I think, marvelling at how collected they all are. I guess having Lady Eie around helps.

"Follow me," I direct and lead them out of the elders' quarters and back into the throne room. Sewif and Samn are standing ready by the doors. Fiyr and Duss are missing.

Scanning the room, my eyes land on the door behind the throne. It's secluded enough and there's room. They'll be safe.

"Into the queen's chambers," I decide.

"That's intruding," Sir Tyle argues.

"I'm sure the queen won't mind," I reply, temper rising. Just cooperate.

To my relief, he merely shrugs and follows the other three into the small room. Now for the children.

The moment Sir Tyle's through the doorway, I turn and walk briskly toward the nursery. Don't panic anyone unnecessarily. In response to the tension in the air, my chest is tight and thrumming with energy ready to spring when the attack comes, but I can't transfer that to the kids. I have to keep them calm. I don't know if Faern will be able to tell, but Thorrin and Briatte would notice if I'm freaking out.

"Lady Faise? Lady Fuor?" I call as calmly as possible.

"Sir Sterrip," the latter greets me at the doorway. "What can I do for you?"

"We—uh—" How am I supposed to tell them that they need to get to safety without implying that there's danger they need to hide from? "There's…"

Lady Fuor cocks her head. "What's wrong?"

Damn it. "Uh… there's… a possibility the castle's going to be attacked," I confess. Rather than scream like I feared, Frostialla's blue eyes narrow to slits, still pinned to me like two chips of ice. "And we need to get the kids to safety. And the ladies."

"How many knights are left in the castle?" she demands.

"Just Fiyr and I," I admit.

Her eyes narrow further. "I see. Tell Brindellia what's happening and get the three children to safety. I'll deal with Goldanna and Tiall. Lady Tiall."

I blink, unsure about trusting her ability to 'deal' with the other two queens, but when every second that ticks by is another second that might be bringing us closer to a battle, I don't have much of a choice.

"Right."

I move past her into the nursery and crouch next to where Briatte and Thorrin are helping Faern construct a tower out of coloured wooden blocks. "Hey guys, we need to go… uh, leave the nursery. You're going to go into the queen's chambers for a bit."

"Okay," Thorrin shrugs, unfazed.

Briatte looks me in the eye and somehow, I get the feeling she knows that something's going on. All the same, she stands and takes Faern's hand.

"C'mon, Fairy, we're going on an adventure," she tells the younger girl brightly. "Follow Thorrin!"

I glance up. Frostialla gives me a sharp nod and waves Lady Flourer and Lady Tiall through the doorway, then follows them out, leaving me alone in the nursery. I swallow and then head after the white-haired lady of the court.

As Thorrin, Briatte, and Faern make it through the door into the queen's chambers, I spot Samn and Fiyr standing by Sewif and Duss. The ladies of the court are still stuck outside the chambers when Fiyr shouts,

"He's coming! And it sounds like he brought friends! Prepare for battle!"

There's no time to try to rush the ladies into the private chambers; they're hardly moving to try to get themselves in, anyway. Not ten seconds after Fiyr's shout, the door explodes in a shower of wood splinters and the shadow of an enormous man blocks the doorway.

The energy trapped in my chest springs out and sings on my skin, life-force crackling all around me. Adrenaline floods my veins and I draw Graystripe.

Two knights, three squires, and four ladies. It sounds like a nursery rhyme.

Now we fight and we pray we're enough to keep Thundria alive until Sir Cawle gets back.

Our odds don't look good. Braukkin takes a step into the room, a rusty laugh rising from him as he surveys us. Not springing into battle, not pouncing on us. Just watching and chuckling. Like a cat that knows he's trapped a mouse. Nowhere to run.

I hold up Graystripe and pray.

The tyrant king takes another step.

"You!" The scream rings out from Fiyr. He and Samn were standing shoulder to shoulder like soldiers, but now he's broken the line and fire is dancing up his body, encircling his limbs in threatening flashes of orange and red.

Eyes flitting across the figures behind Braukkin, it's a moment before I spot him. Sir Clehw Fiace. Killer of Spottalia Lief and loyalist of the tyrant king.

Fiyr's eyes speak of blood.

Sir Fiace's only answer is a smile that twists the vicious scarred skin that covers half his face. Burn scars. He survived, somehow. Though if Fiyr gets his way, I know that good luck won't last. Clehw draws his sword and leaps at Fiyr, stoat life-force flaring out from him as his limbs sharpen and inhuman grace is granted to him by traiting. Fiyr screams bloody murder and shoots forward to meet him, the inferno armouring him glowing brighter like windblown embers.

The tension snaps like a branch in flames and the outlaws are upon us in seconds. I summon all the life-force and physical strength at my disposal and jump into the fight.

Thank you for reading chapter 19! Please follow and favourite this story and leave me a review with what you think!

~Akila