Chapter 9

El jefe and Captain Grant ran from the room to join the blood bath raging below. I had seen how many men had laid siege to and taken control of this castle. Baron Quinn and this small retinue of men, while full of courage and noble cause, would stand less chance than a bird flung into deep waters. Releasing any men locked up in the dungeons did help, but they would be without weapons and were likely half-starved. All I knew was that el jefe has caused heartache while Baron Quinn had been kind to me. I couldn't see that man parted with his head.

Without a second thought I rushed out of the room but stopped as Riley stood at the door with his arms out, blocking my way.

"Move," I said, meeting his unwavering gaze with me own. He didn't move an inch.

"Stay in here. It's safer for you. If anyone finds out who you are, you'll be taken hostage or worse," Riley said.

I cocked my head to one side and raised an eyebrow in a silent challenge. "And you're going to keep me in here?" He knew as well as I did that he wasn't going to stay in this room babysitting while his men were giving their lives. And while there was a lock on the study door, it was on the inside. I could see the indecision behind his clear blue eyes as he thought through his options. The only things keeping me here at the moment were his broad shoulders.

"Your father will not be impressed," Riley replied.

"You mean the man who terrorised Araluen and everyone I know for the past few months?" I countered, blowing my fringe out of my face. "I don't give a flying pig what he thinks."

Riley gave me a pointed stare. "He'll be furious at me and you have no weapons. We took those off you, remember?" I reached for my sabre at my hip and realised he was right. I could have slapped myself for being so stupid and impulsive. Almost rushing into a battle with nothing more than a quattro tucked in my pocket.

"Well go and get my sabre and knives then," I said. Riley merely raised an eyebrow in reply.

"As Lady María Katalina Leonor de Aragon y de Romero and the daughter of the King Fernando's foremost general I command you to retrieve my sabre and knives and then move aside," I repeated with more force. For a second Riley paused, incredulous that the order had actually left my lips. I was just as surprised. A week ago I would have rolled my eyes at some upper class spoilt brat uttering the exact phrase and directing servants as if they were less than human, but right now it felt good. When no one even trusted my honest word, this little bit of power that flowed through my veins was so tempting to invoke. I had seen Edmund and Cassandra use their birthright to direct men and run the country and having a small slice was intoxicating. When Riley gave a small sigh and dipped his head in my direction, the power surged. If I could get him, a leader of men, to obey me then all the foot soldiers were practically at my beck and call. I was in control and nobody could deny me anything. I could have and do anything as long as el jefe agreed and he seemed to want to do anything to make it up to me. This was entirely better than having the Ranger Council sneer at me. Stupid men. I was going to show them.

Riley brought me my weapons and presented them to me as a squire would his knight. I couldn't hide my satisfied grin and fully armed myself.

"Be careful," Riley said before hurrying down the stairs.

I followed right behind him, my boots soft on the stones while his scuffed loudly. A few floors down I recognised the frantic barking of my beloved mutt, still confined to his cage. While Riley went ahead I backtracked, finding the room that I had first been locked up in. Outside the demon had practically burst out of his own cage. Wolf was butting against the wooden bars and almost flipped the cage on its head before I let out a shrill whistle. He recognised it, and stopped immediately.

"What happened to you?" he asked, noticing my emancipated state. I found the keys to the cage discarded on the floor and set about freeing Wolf while I tried to explain everything that had happened.

"He's your father?" Wolf asked, was incredulous.

"I can't believe it either," I said, fitting the key in the lock and turning it. Wolf bounded out, and I had to quickly step aside to avoid being knocked over.

"Are you going to kill him?" Wolf questioned, staring straight into my eyes. "It would be simple and would show those bastards just how wrong they were."

He was right. El jefe trusted me and it would be almost child's play to sneak up behind him and stab him in the back. Once that was done I could cut off his head and be on my way, hopefully without being noticed in all the chaos. Yet, I couldn't help feeling that it wouldn't be the end of it. The Iberian's needed to be stopped at the source and if el jefe was dead King Ferdinand would just send another general to do his bidding and we would be on the back food again. Right now we had an advantage. El jefe trusted me and I could learn of their plans and feed the information through to Halt. It could be done so simply and I could single-handedly change the course of this war.

"Are you strong enough to do that though?" Wolf asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're going to have to pretend to entirely for the Iberian's. Make them trust you and turn Araluen against you. Can you handle that?"

Could I handle it? So many people didn't trust me but at the same time many still did. Did I want to turn them all against me? Could I live with the hate and the shame and the disgrace. I didn't know.

I shook my head. "I don't have time for philosophical thinking Wolf." I didn't have to make a decision right at this moment, did I? I needed time. Maybe some sort of instinct would take over and I would know what to do.

Running out of the keep, the coward in me wished that I had stayed locked away in the Baron's office. The haunted screams of men bleeding out filled the air, joining the ringing of steel and grunts of exertion. Forrest green faced the blood red of the King of Iberion. The burnt yellow of el jefe's personal guard was scattered around and I noticed with disapproval that these men tended to stab their enemies in the back, not caring that their actions were far from noble. While the Baron's men had surprised the invaders, they had little chance of succeeding while arrows were continually being rained on them from above. The evidence lay at my feet. A man, pierced with a crossbow bolt, clutched his chest, desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood staining his surcoat. His crazed eyes looked up at me, pleading for help but at the same time wary as my white shirt showed no allegiance.

A hulking green figure ran in my direction, his battle axed poised above his head. I knew that I wanted to save Baron Quinn's life but was I going to kill all the men that got in my way? I thought about explaining myself but seeing the wild look in the man's eyes I knew it would be useless. He was cutting through anything not green. I took in the bruises around his wrists. He was one of the released prisoners and this was his retaliation against his captors. As the axe fell I jumped lithely to the side. The man stumbled slightly, not physically in shape after being confined to a small space for such a long time. I turned and sliced through his right shoulder. Blood immediately soaked his sleeve. My sabre was well sharpened and I knew that I had ripped through a tendon. He wouldn't be wielding a battle axe ever again and fell to his knees, the pain crippling.

I looked around, unsure of what to do. Wolf was on the sidelines, baring his teeth at anyone who even glanced in his direction. He took his orders from me and as I was unsure of who I was fighting, he wasn't going to do anything. Riley was already on the castle battlements helping his archers. A handful of Baron Quinn's men had seen the threat posed and were trying to prevent their comrades being skewered on mass. It took thirty seconds to reload a crossbow and in that time the archers were effectively unarmed and vulnerable. Riley whirled his sword in an intricate dance; beautiful yet deadly. He stabbed a man straight through the stomach. Another came at him from the side and he kicked him in the chest, sending him over the short wall and presumably into the moat.

I flicked my sabre at a soldier in red who didn't realise who I was. I only intended to cut his upper arm but he moved at the last minute and was instead impaled. My stomach turned as he fell, dead. I guessed it was for the best. I didn't want to know with el jefe would have done with him when he found out.

I didn't want to cross the yard, in case an archer targeted me by mistake. While my cloak was plain black, if I was on the battlements I would most likely take the chance and shoot me regardless. I considered removing a surcoat from a dead or wounded man but the idea didn't sit well with me. Being covered with a stranger's blood was not appealing.

Wolf, always knowing exactly what I was thinking, padded over with a burnt yellow cape in mouth.

"Where'd you get that from?" I asked.

"I was making myself useful," he answered and I smiled my thanks, ripping off my cloak and quickly fastening the cape. I swore under my breath, realising the enormity that simple change of clothing had.

"Swearing now?"

"Wolf, I'm wearing their colours," I whispered. I felt dirty. I wanted to rip the cape off as quickly as I had put it on. It itched around the collar and it was like dozens of bugs were crawling up my neck.

"If it makes you feel any better, I think you can actually pull off yellow."

I scratched at my neck furiously and then decided I needed to get over this. It was just a coloured cape, nothing else. Clothes didn't dictate anything at all. They were just cloth. What mattered were my actions.

I crossed the yard, carefully stepping over the dead and wounded. My eyes were drawn to Baron Quinn who was putting himself in as much danger as his men. A man approached him from behind, ready to stick a knife through the baron's back. A quattro was between my fingers in a second and then released in another. While the battle was far from quiet, my ears narrowed in on that one man and I heard his final cry, before he slumped to the ground, dead. I hoped no one was watching me because in yellow I was not supposed to be killing my comrades. I dispatched a second potential backstabber, before dealing with one of the baron's men who thought I was getting too close to comfort.

"Mon!" I somehow heard my name screamed above the noise and ducked to the right, as a crossbow bolt grazed my left arm. Looking up Riley was yelling at some poor man while shaking his shoulders quite violently. Riley glanced down, relieved that I was still standing. I gave him a mock salute. Great. I was pretty sure that by now I owed him in the life saving tally.

My eyes were drawn to el jefe. He pulled his sword from the back of one man before pivoting and slicing off another's head. His sword was taking lives as a scythe harvested grain in the autumn. It's weight alone crushed in a skull and then carved straight through bone. I was transfixed as blood flowed like a river.

The number of green figures still standing was dangerously low. A small group surrounded Baron Quinn, the last stand of the once mighty fief. While they had been trying to protect their leader, standing together left them as easy targets for the archers and they were not long for the world.

El jefe stalked towards the Baron. Everyone, watching the final stand of a baron who had lost his fief to invaders. El jefe's sword was held at an angle and I knew what he was going to do. He was going to try and lop the Baron's head off as quickly as he could. It would probably be displayed on a pike in town to show the people that they had no hope. Baron Quinn to his credit did not back down or turn away. He wiped the back of his hand over the cut above his eye and tried to stand straight. His surcoat stained with blood and the barb of an arrow still stuck out of his thigh, even though he had broken off the shaft. He was not winning this battle or escaping with his life.

My feet began moving on their own accord, my eyes trained on the two men. I couldn't let the baron die like that. I wouldn't let him lose everything and be left with a final thought and fear as to what would happen to his family. My fingers reached for a throwing knife and instinctively measured angles and distance. I was going to stick the knife in the back of el jefe's neck, right where his leather armour ended. It was such a small target that I doubted my abilities for half a second but shook it aside. I could hear Halt's encouraging voice. I had the skills, I just needed to trust myself. My knife was deathly sharp and it would most likely come out the other side of his neck. If it didn't, I would run and finish the slice before any archers could impale me. It would be a fitting ending. If I was lucky I might make it out. I didn't care what King Ferdinand would do in the future. For now, I would be the girl who killed Araluen's greatest threat and that was all that mattered.

† † †

I screamed, my eyes jerking open. No, no, no. It was after me. The darkness was clawing at me. It wanted to consume. To take me away into some unknown. I stumbled out of bed, getting caught in layers of blankets and silk before tripping on my long nightgown. I rubbed sleep out of my eyes and ran to the one person who I know would make everything better. My feet pattered on the cold marble. It took all my strength to get the big doors opened just a little bit so that I could sneak in. I climbed up the foot of the bed, pushing aside the heavy curtains and hurled myself in my father's arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Minny?" he asked, opening his eyes sleepily. I crawled under the covers and hugged him close, smelling the familiar scent of safety.

"What happened sweetheart? Did you have a bad dream?" I nodded against his chest.

He pulled me close. "How about you stay here tonight?" I was going to stay whether he let me or not.

My mother woke up and turned to her side, seeing the intruder in her bed.

"Did she have a bad dream?" she asked. "Poor darling." She rubbed my back gently before drifting back off again.

"Can I sleep here tomorrow?" I asked. He kissed my forehead and stroked my curls until the tears stopped.

"You can sleep here whenever you have a bad dream. I'll always be here for you Minny."

† † †

The hilt of my knife left my fingers and seconds later a cry rang out. Baron Quinn fell to the ground, his sudden movement causing the arc of el jefe's broadsword to pass harmlessly over his head. The Baron tried to drag himself up with his left elbow, wincing at the throwing knife with was lodged in the gap in his armour under his shoulder. El jefe looked around, confused for a second before going to finish off what he had started. I wasted no time and rushed forward. I didn't know why I did it. It was impulsive and it was rash. I had been fully prepared to end his life but then I wasn't. Not like this and not yet. I couldn't kill the man who was my father. He deserved to die for everything that he had done. But could I live with that decision if I didn't even give him a chance to be the father he once was?

"STOP!" I yelled as all eyes turned to me. El jefe loosened his grip on his sword and gave me a questioning look. He took in my outstretched hand and the colour of my cape – taking me apart and trying to figure out why. Riley was practically running down from the battlements, gawking at what I had just done. He knew what I had been so close to doing and was now wondering why I was being stupid enough to deny el jefe his final victory.

"Minny?" he asked. "What in god's name do you think you're doing?" It was a good question. I didn't know what I was doing either. I was just trying to save the Baron the not kill the man who had once held my close and promised that he would protect me from anything. I needed to think of something believable and fast.

"Don't kill the Baron," I said, putting my arms out in an appeasing gesture. The battle fury slowly drained out of el jefe's eyes.

"What's the use in killing a man who could be a valuable bargaining chip," I explained. "He has no men left, so he's not threat to us. From now he could only be an advantage." I tried to say it convincingly. As if I had a deep well of military strategy knowledge.

El jefe raised an eyebrow. "Then what should we do with him?"

"Throw him in the dungeons with his family. He won't try to escape if he thinks they'll be harmed. Use his family against him. Make him tell us Castle Caraways secrets. It shouldn't be too hard. From there we can figure out how to truly control this port and then the rest of the country." The words that left my mouth were so cold and heartless. They made my tongue feel heavy and laden with poison. Somehow though, I flourished my words with a flick of my hair and placed my hand on my hip. I glanced quickly at Riley who was shaking his head in disbelief. He had seen me be so convicted in my fight to join the rangers and was surprised by my sudden change of heart. He hadn't thought he would be retrieving a loyal daughter for el jefe. Gorlog's beard. What had I just done. Putting on the cape was one thing, but I just signed myself over to the enemy.

"Puedo matarlo si lo desea," the Captain of the Guard said, holding his sword just inches from the Baron's neck.

Baron Quinn stared at me with confusion and then recognition. He knew who I was. The girl who had come to his fief weeks ago. He had given me shelter and his people had clothed and fed me. We had fought alongside each other against this very threat and now I was on the other side. The girlfriend of the prince was now also the daughter of el jefe. His face contorted and he looked at me as if I was scum. Worse than the sewerage that floated in the moat of his castle. Well, former castle. He then lowered his head in defeat. The light that had once lined his handsome face, well and truly gone. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"No," el jefe said gazing at me with what looked like pride. "My daughter is right. He's not threat to us anymore. Throw him in the dungeons with the rest of his men." The Iberian soldiers began to poke and prod fallen men, determining whether they were in fact dead. The injured ones were hauled off to the dungeons with the baron in chains.

"I'm proud of you," el jefe said placing his hand on my shoulder. I wanted to shrug him off but forced myself to give a semblance of a smile. All I could think of was that look on the Baron's face. There was nothing to be proud of. Here I was condemning soldiers for stabbing their opponents in the back when I had switched sides mid-battle. I wanted to throw up. I was a traitor. There was no other way to say it. The moment I had changed the target of that knife, I couldn't go back anymore. I couldn't just take off my cape and say I was back on Araluen's side. It was your actions that dictated your allegiance and I had just made a grand gesture that would not soon be forgotten. There was no going back.

I prayed to grandmamma's god that I wouldn't live to regret it.