Seirsha of Errinton Page 8

“Ladies,” I call out. Startled, they still in their tasks and look my way. “You will each take two loaves of bread home to your families tonight.”

  They blink at me, too scared to move.

  Rella finally looks my way. “You can’t ask that of them, Seirsha.” Several women gasp at her use of my name and the scolding tone of her voice, but she ignores them. “Do you know what will happen if we are found out?”

  “You may say it was a direct order from me. I will deal with the repercussions.”

  Rella shakes her head, defiant, but the woman next to her clasps my hands and thanks me as if I’ve done her some great service. It breaks my heart that giving them two loaves of bread can bring about this much gratitude.

  I turn back before I leave the kitchens. “You will do it, Rella.”

  She brushes the flour from her hands. Though she’s still displeased, she nods, but she won’t look at me. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  ***

  It doesn’t surprise me when Argus shows up at my quarters.

  Peering at him from the door, I say, “Yes?”

  He’s barely concealing a vicious smile. “His Majesty wishes to speak with you.”

  “About what?”

  “I believe you know.”

  I lean against the door, attempting to look put out although my heart is racing. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

  Argus doesn’t speak to me as we make our way through the halls, and I have no desire to initiate a conversation. Not bothering to knock first, the guards open Father’s doors when they see me.

  I sweep into the room and try not to cringe when the heavy doors shut. Father stands in front of me. His hands are clasped behind his back, and he stares out the window at the village.

  “I don’t remember ordering the kitchen maids to take bread home with them,” he says.

  “You didn’t.” His tone has set me on edge and makes me feel defiant. “I did.”

  He turns slowly, his anger simmering just under the surface. “On whose authority?”

  I meet his eyes. “On my own.”

  The air is heavy between us. I tilt my chin slightly higher and wait for him to answer.

  “You have no authority.”

  “How much have you cut the women’s pay since the end of the wars?”

  Father raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “That’s none of your concern. We’ve all had to make sacrifices.”

  As if to prove a point, he raises a chalice to his lips. It’s an expensive wine, imported directly from a small family vineyard in Triblue.

  Rage boils in me. That wine cost more gold than double the bread I had the women take yesterday. I’m tired of his games. I’m tired of his shows of power.

  I step forward, unable to keep silent. “If you are so concerned with the loyalty of your people, you might consider treating them better than worthless dogs in the streets.”

  Father takes two steps forward, his face hard. “Soon I won’t need their loyalty. They will have no choice but to obey.”

  Shaking my head, I say, “It’s not out there, this thing you’ve set your heart on. It’s a myth, a legend. You make yourself a fool by—”

  His slap takes me surprise. I take several steps back and hold my stinging cheek.

  Satisfied with my reaction, Father says, “You will remember your place. This will not happen again, Seirsha.”

  I cross my arms instead of answering.

  “If it does, those women will bear the weight of your punishment. Do you understand?”

  Unable to stand against this particular threat, I recoil. My eyes drop to the stone floor. “Yes, Father.”

  Brushing the subject aside, he smiles. “How are things progressing with Rigel? Yesterday he backed down quickly, didn’t he?”

  I stare at him.

  Father smiles, and then his face falls as if he’s disappointed. “I fear he will tire of you soon, but until then, you are proving yourself useful.”

  My stomach rolls. “I would never offer myself the way you have demanded.”

  His gaze goes sharp, as if he’s been waiting for this. “Then what exactly have you been doing in all the time you’ve been spending together?”

  I have no answer for him.

  He takes another step closer. “Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps it is not you using him, but him using you to claim a crown.”

  Aghast at the thought, I step back. “No.”

  Father laughs. “Poor girl. You hadn’t considered that, had you? How odd it is that handsome, powerful Lord Rigel has suddenly taken an interest in you now that I have no heir.”

  I try to swallow, but my throat feels swollen.

  “No,” Father says, mocking me. “He wouldn’t use you, would he? You’re too special. Too desirable—look at all the men lined up for you.”

  My eyes sting, but I won’t let him see me cry.

  “You will do your duty as I have instructed.” His tone again goes hard. “And you will remember—Rigel does not want you. He wants my throne.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Pippa clenches her hands around her reins. “He will declare war on the lower kingdoms?”

  Archer shakes his head. “He only alluded to it.”

  Pippa and Archer ride with me and Rigel again today. We have no particular destination. The air is surprisingly pleasant, and the scraggly grass in the valleys is becoming green. Songbirds call from the sporadic pine trees that dot the landscape, and their song is like a balm to my aching soul.

  Rigel pulls his horse even with mine. “War will be his intention.”

  “Surely he doesn’t mean Lauramore?” Pippa demands. “We’re the closest thing he has to an allied kingdom.” The princess looks ill when neither Archer nor Rigel set her mind at ease. “I must warn Father. I must…” She trails off, a scowl on her face.

  She knows as well as we do that her marriage has bound her to Errinton. Any whispered warnings would be treason.

  After flicking a fly from my horse’s shoulder, I say, “I personally do not believe this new mania of his will bear fruit.”

  My mood is dark, and I can’t shake it. The mountains to the south seem to beckon me today, and as always, I wish I could cross them.

  I sigh and turn back to the others. “Does no one else think it seems a little too fantastic, this magical statue that has the power to make a man a god?”

  Rigel shakes his head. “Dark magic is not to be trifled with.”

  If it is real, I more than anyone do not want Father to take possession of it.

  Pippa looks more irritated than before, if that’s possible. “Where is this thing?”

  “Far north,” Rigel answers. “Past Errinton’s boundaries.”

  There’s nothing in the far north but ice and snow. No kingdoms rule it; no kingdoms want it. Most men who have ventured to explore the area have all turned back shortly into their expedition. The other few have frozen to death.

  “He plans to send out a small band of men to seek out a fortress carved from a cliff face,” Rigel continues. “It’s there he believes the figure will be found.”

  I scoff under my breath. Despite Rigel’s warnings, it still sounds ludicrous.

  Rigel glances at me but continues even as he gives me a questioning look.

  Though I try, I can’t get Father’s words out of my head. They circle in my mind like vultures, swooping low when I’m least expecting them. The coincidence of Rigel stepping back into my life right after Calden’s death is great, but I just can’t believe it’s true. Not of Rigel.

  “What will keep these men from claiming the sculpture as their own?” Pippa asks.

  “The king will pick those he has leverage over.”

  Archer reins his mare to the side to avoid a boulder in his path, and then he joins us again. “Blackmail?”

  “Possibly.” Rigel looks back at me. “But he has already gathered us here. Essentially he will be holding loved ones hostage. People will do almost anything to protect those they care about.”<
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  For the first time today, I hold his gaze. There are questions in his eyes.

  I look away.

  Archer rolls his shoulders as if the conversation has become too taxing. “Let us hope they find the fortress empty.”

  “Or not find it at all,” Pippa adds.

  Rigel shakes his head. “No, we must hope the fortress exists. King Bowen will never give up the search.”

  I shiver at his words and rub my pendant between my fingers.

  Near us, a herd of shaggy iktars cease their digging. They pick up their large, oxen-like heads and stare at us disinterestedly. They chew the roots they’ve harvested like a cow chews cud. I purse my lips, watching them.

  Pippa follows my eyes and laughs. “Rigel, have I told you the story of Galinor and his iktar beast?”

  Rigel turns in his saddle, giving her an odd look. “They don’t have iktar in Glendon.”

  “No. He was here in Errinton, hunting them.”

  “When was this? And why?”

  The black and white creatures decide we’re of no interest and go back to their foraging.

  “It was last autumn,” she says. “And for a girl, Rigel.” Pippa turns her attention to her husband and grins.

  Archer laughs. “It’s always for a girl.”

  He and Pippa lock eyes in the disconcerting way they are prone to do.

  “She was collecting odd ingredients for a gimly,” Pippa says when she finally pulls her starry gaze from her husband. “He was making a stew.”

  Rigel cringes. “Out of iktar?”

  I stare at the animal, still intrigued even after they tire of the subject. “Food is food, though. Isn’t it?” I say aloud, though I think my words are too quiet for the others to hear.

  ***

  Pippa and I hand our horses off to the waiting grooms, but both Rigel and Archer walk their mounts into the stable. The smell is as strong today as it was the last time we were here. At least this time I’m prepared for it.

  Next to me, Pippa takes a deep breath and sighs. She catches the look on my face and lets out a bright, bold laugh. “You don’t like the smell of horses.”

  It’s an accusation.

  “Not particularly.”

  She breathes in again, and I try not to cringe.

  “I do,” she says. “They smell like freedom.”

  I eye the castle from the stable’s entrance. “Or perhaps it’s the smell of returning to your cage.”

  “Just a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” She grins and brushes her hair away from her face. “Looks like we split up here.”

  Ahead of us, Archer continues down the aisle, but Rigel turns. Pippa gives me a good, hard shove around the corner. I look back over my shoulder and give her a wry smile. The princess laughs again, and the sound follows me down the aisle.

  Rigel’s face warms when he sees me. “I expected you to follow Pippa.”

  I match his steps but keep my eyes averted. “Why would I do that?”

  He stops and gently tilts my shoulders toward him. “Because you haven’t looked at me all day.” He raises an eyebrow. “What have I done?”

  How am I supposed to keep my wits about me when he looks at me like that?

  Confusion flickers in his eyes when he sees my struggle. “Seirsha?”

  Before I can say anything, he raises his hand to a stable boy across the aisle. Eager to please, the boy rushes forward.

  Rigel holds out his reins. “Will you mind him for me?”

  The boy’s eyes grow huge. “Lord Rigel…your horse?”

  Rigel reaches into the pouch at his side and presses a coin in the boy’s hand.

  The boy shakes his head and stammers, “My Lord, I can’t accept—”

  Rigel ignores the protests and clasps his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I expect you to brush him down well, do you understand?”

  The boy nods. “Yes, My Lord.”

  I see a flash of gold as the boy tucks the precious coin in his pouch. He gazes on Rigel with such awe, my heart hurts.

  A gold coin will feed that boy’s family for more than a month.

  I’m still watching the child lead the horse away when Rigel offers me his arm. I take it without hesitation. I expect him to lead me to a quiet corner in the stable, but instead we leave the building altogether and enter the castle. We weave through familiar halls until we’re standing in front of my chamber doors.

  “Why are we here?” I ask.

  The hall is empty, and Rigel sets his hands on my arms. “Please tell me—what have I done?” His gray eyes search mine, but his gaze softens when I smile.

  Not wanting to have this conversation in the deserted hall, I open the door and usher him inside. “I was called to Father’s chambers this morning.”

  I can’t look at his face. I turn from him and walk to a window.

  He stands behind me, setting his hands on my shoulders. “Why?”

  His tone is protective. That alone soothes my nerves.

  “It doesn’t matter.” I watch a hawk ride the air currents in the distance. “He did mention something that troubled me, however.”

  He stands behind me, tensed and waiting.

  “He believes you are only pretending to care for me to gain the crown now that Calden is dead.” Rigel starts to growl something, but I turn and place my fingers on his lips, silencing him. “But I have decided that even if it were true, I don’t care.”

  Rigel’s brow furrows, and he pulls away from my fingers. “You wouldn’t care? If I were using you to obtain Errinton—you wouldn’t care? That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard, Seirsha.”

  He’s so irritated by the injustice of my statement that I smile.

  “No matter how it comes to be,” I say. “You should be king.”

  Rigel steps back, crossing his arms and building a wall between us. He opens his mouth just to close it again, and then he glowers at me.

  Finally, he says, “Never at someone else’s expense. To think that you think that I would think it’s acceptable to use—”

  “But you’re not, are you?”

  He looks at me as if I’ve gone as mad as my father. “Of course I’m not.”

  “That must mean you simply like me then.”

  I stand on my toes and brush my lips against his. For a moment, I’ve stunned him so completely, he only stares at me, incredulous. Finally, he mutters something about absurd ideas and foolish princesses, and then his hands slide around my waist. He jerks me toward him, making me laugh and gasp at the same time. I wrap my hands around his neck and try to stay on my feet.

  He presses his lips to mine, and my laughter bubbles away. His kiss isn’t hesitant like it was in the smithy’s. It’s sure and possessive, and if I were harboring any lingering doubts that he wants me, they’re gone.

  His thumb moves at my waist, driving me mad. Rigel kisses like he does everything else—with a startling intensity.

  Too soon, we part, and he sets his forehead against mine.

  With his arms wrapped around me, I feel safe. Protected. I take a deep breath, knowing it’s time to come clean about the events leading up to Calden’s death.

  “It was late,” I say and look at Rigel’s tunic instead of his face. “Bea was preparing to leave. Her brother’s wife had just given birth to a baby girl.”

  I close my eyes, trying to shut out the terror that reliving the night is dredging up. When I open them again, Rigel watches me closely, realizing what I’m about to tell him. His hands settle on my arms, gently giving me the reassurance I need to continue.

  “Calden was drunk,” I whisper. “He beat on the door and demanded I give him Bea. I refused, but he had a key.” Rigel’s eyes flash, and I look at the stone floor as I continue, “He was savage that night—more so than usual.”

  My last words are too much, and Rigel interrupts, his words sharp, “Than usual?”

  I nod. A tremor passes through me, and my stomach clenches. “The first time I didn’t fight him. I r
an into the halls to find help. I screamed and yelled. No one cared; no one came. When I returned, he was gone, but Bea…”

  My stomach knots and rolls. I can’t speak these memories out loud. I’ve kept them trapped deep inside for so long. They fester, but at least they are contained.

  Rigel wraps his arms around me, holding me close. He feels safe.

  “After that,” I continue, “he’d sometimes find her when she’d leave my chambers in the evenings…”

  Rigel’s arms are like iron. He’s tense, and I know he’s angry, but it’s cleansing to have someone share my fury.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

  “What could you have done?” I say, looking up at him. “Besides, by the time it started, I rarely saw you.”

  He looks irritated with my answer, and then the question I’ve been dreading comes. “Did he touch you?”

  “He tried once,” I whisper. “It was late and Bea was already safe at home. He was drunk—so drunk. He tried to keep me quiet, but I shrieked and screamed. I finally bit him hard enough he let me go. I ran and didn’t go back to my rooms that entire night.” I quietly seethe before I finish. “The next day I told Father.”

  Rigel doesn’t say anything for a moment. His muscles are tensed under my hand, and his eyes are livid. Once he finally finds control, he asks, “What did your Father say?”

  “He told Calden it was fine to play with the maids if he liked, but I needed to remain pure for a marriage alliance.” I stare at a point over his shoulder. “Apparently, at the time, he cared.”

  Rigel curses low, his face ashen.

  “He was wild the night he attacked Bea. I wanted to kill him.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  I shake my head. “I knocked him unconscious. We left him behind the tavern, hoping he wouldn’t remember the night in the morning. But his morning never came.”

  Exhausted now, I lean my head against him.

  He gently strokes the back of my head. “It’s safe with me.”

  “If Father were to find out—”

  “He won’t.”

  ***

  “Seirsha, this is probably the oddest thing I’ve ever done.”

  I glance at Pippa, unconcerned. “Didn’t you hunt them with the Prince of Glendon?”