Fist of the Furor (11 page)

Chapter 14

Later that day, I was on the training fields stringing an arrow when Princess Catriona found me. She was followed by two large Henderonian guards. They had circles tattooed on their cheeks, and their heads were bald. They wore scarlet vests over white tunics tucked into black breeches. Intimidating was too mild a word for them.

Catriona noticed me staring and smiled. “They are called
Herrnos
, royal guards who dedicate their lives to the Henderonian crown. Deadly and unforgiving.”

I held my bow down, my gaze on the princess. She was dazzling, her body enfolded in a navy gown lined with jade-colored beads. Her hair was pulled back and tied off with a navy ribbon, her fiery curls flowing down her back. It almost hurt to look at her.

“My sister was the truly beautiful one,” she said. My eyes widened, and she waved her hand. “Oh, posh! Don’t pretend you weren’t thinking it. I’ve been told before that I’m easy to look at, but my sister …now,
she
was the true beauty. She glowed.”

I turned back toward the target in the distance, my elbows coming up. “Did you need something, Your Majesty?”

Catriona watched me. Silence stretched. I pulled back on the bow, my eyes narrowing. My aim was true, and when I released the arrow, it embedded itself into the target just left of the center.

Catriona clapped. “Impressive.”

I shrugged. “It’s necessity, Your Highness.”

She stepped toward me, and I lowered my bow. “I’ve heard about your people’s plight, and I’m truly touched by it. To be unable to practice magic, read, or write is unimaginable, but to be condemned for it is …” Her hand rested on a training post. “Well, it isn’t right.”

I looked at her. “We will win our freedom,” I promised.

Her gaze searched mine. “I have no doubt.” She offered me her hand. “I think we started off on the wrong foot, Phoenix.”

I took her hand and bowed over it. “It’s
Drastona
, Your Majesty. Just Drastona.”

She smiled. “Well,
just
Drastona, I am Catriona. Close friends call me Cat.” She gave me a sidelong glance. “Something about you fascinates me. Tell me, are you in love with my husband?”

I dropped my bow. “What?”

Catriona laughed. “So the amazing ‘little bird’
can
be shaken up. I’m delighted. Take no offense. I’m horribly curious, you see. My father is forever put out by it. And you know how I feel about the prince. It certainly isn’t affection.”

I bent to pick up my weapon. “You have nothing to worry about from me, Your Highness.”

Her gaze followed me. “Truly?” she asked. “The pendant you wear around your neck, where does it come from?”

It took everything I had not to grab the necklace and shove it inside my tunic. My cheeks burned. “It was a gift.”

“Ah,” Catriona murmured. “A gift.”
 
The princess pointed at my bow. “May I?”

Dumbly, I nodded, offering it to her.

She took it, testing its weight before taking an arrow from my quiver. “You should know that I don’t blame Cadeyrn. I loathe his lot in life, the danger he’s constantly in, and what that means for those of us who must commit our lives to his country. I know it isn’t something he can help. I’m not a bad person, but … I can barely make myself look at him.”

She took aim, her eyes narrowing on the target.

“He loved your sister very much,” I murmured. “He carries her with him everywhere.”

Catriona released the arrow. It hit the edge of the bull’s eye. “Not as close as yours,” she said, grinning, “but not bad.”

The princess turned, her gaze falling to my pendant. “I know he loved her. Until her death, their marriage was like nothing I’d ever seen. It was full of immense happiness. It isn’t his fault that every time I look at him I see blood.” Her gaze met mine. “I don’t want to be married to my sister’s husband.”

My heart broke, and I reached for her, my hand finding her silk-covered arm. “Duty is often a heavy weight to bear.”

She smiled softly. “I like you, little bird.” Her tone made it seem as if being liked by her was a tremendous honor. It should have seemed vain, but it didn’t.

I found myself grinning. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

She snorted. “Call me Cat. I think we will be great friends, you and I. Even if my husband does secretly long for a marked rebel.”

I would have stumbled if Catriona’s hand hadn’t caught my elbow. “I like shocking you,” she admitted. “I hear you are the Lord Conall’s bastard.”

Frowning, I nodded.

Her eyes gleamed. “Then you are Gryphon’s sister.”

I glanced at her. “You know him?”

Catriona shrugged. “I had an affair with him once.”

Again, I stumbled.

Catriona chuckled. “Your face, little bird! You’ve seldom spent time in court, I see. I met Gryphon at my sister’s wedding. He’s a good man, your brother. Things are often not as they seem in court. We may be rich, we may have been born to rule, but it doesn’t stop us from loving.”

I stared. “You love Gryphon then?”

Her gaze met mine. “I did once.”

Reaching out, I touched her sleeve. “Love doesn’t stop. Not true love.”

She shrugged.

“It’s wrong,” I whispered, “being forced to marry your sister’s husband when you’re in love with someone else.”

The princess laughed. “It’s duty.”

There was no sorrow in her voice when she said it. I didn’t envy her.

“And what about you?” Catriona asked. “It can’t be easy being in love with a man married to two women.”

I stiffened. “I’m not in love with him.”

Her brows rose. “What an adamant denial! Is it because of your dead prince?” she asked. “Do you fear loving again?”

I took my bow from her and strung another arrow.

Catriona watched me. “Sometimes denying love can be as thrilling as accepting it. There is something incredibly magnetic about longing for something that can never be.”

I released the arrow. It hit dead center.

Glancing at Catriona, I found her staring over the training fields, her gaze on the swordsmen seizing each other up in the training loop. She shielded her eyes from the sun. Within the ring, Cadeyrn circled Gryphon, both of them smiling, both of them bare from the waist up, their swords raised. Something about the way she watched them touched me.

I slung my bow onto my back and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I agree. I think we will be great friends, you and I.”

She looked at me and smiled, her hand finding mine on her shoulder.

Chapter 15

Catriona was true to her word. She sought me out regularly over the next three days. Often, it was on the training field, her gaze searching the yards for Gryphon. She was a great conversationalist with the uncanny ability to make anyone laugh. Daegan and Maeve had to hold their stomachs to keep from guffawing and drawing attention to our group. Catriona even managed to win Oran’s affection. It wasn’t unusual to see him rubbing against her skirts. She was a welcome addition. Although Daegan and Maeve were lighthearted, we could be a morose group at times, our burdens heavy. Even heavier was my new secret. Catriona’s presence lightened things.

It was only Lochlen Catriona remained wary of. His eyes unsettled her. She knew he was a dragon—it wasn’t a secret—but knowing he could transform into a large beast frightened her. Oddly, her fear made me like her more. Under all of her jokes, under all of her wide smiles and shocking comments, was an insecure woman who was as afraid as the rest of us.

Most of all, Catriona adored being scandalous.

“Gabriella abhors her feet. She never lets anyone see them. Her servants say she rarely removes her stockings, even when she bedded the prince.” Catriona grinned.

Taking a bite of an apple, Daegan choked, his cheek bulging. “And why would it matter if she had hideous feet?” Daegan asked, small pieces of fruit spraying from his mouth. He swallowed. “Feet are the last thing men look at.” He waved his apple. “Now teeth, teeth are a different matter altogether.”

Maeve punched him in the arm. “Insufferable brute.”

Daegan winked. “I make no apologies.”

We were having an early lunch. Soldiers from all over Sadeemia had begun gathering in the capital, many of them lodging in barracks built near the sea. The days had become longer and more exhausting. The king was often seen walking amongst his men; his head bent, his brow furrowed. Cadeyrn met with him often.

A heavy, desolate cloud settled over the kingdom. Mothers, wives, and daughters would be saying good-bye to their husbands, sons, and fathers soon, and because Sadeemia allowed women in their army, there would be a lot of mothers, wives, and daughters leaving to fight as well.

“You look positively deathly,” Catriona observed.

I attempted to smile, but only managed a grimace. “Four days until we march to Medeisia.”

It was all I said, but it was enough.

Catriona waved at the castle walls. “Henderonia is sending men. They’ll be easier to detect from the sea by Raemon, but hopefully by then Cadeyrn’s men will have made enough impact.”

Maeve shook her head. “It’s nearly impossible to enter Medeisia from the sea. There are too many mountains and the waters are rough. Most ships are destroyed.”

Catriona glanced at me. “Sounds like an inhospitable country.”

My thoughts filled with images of the forests, of the dragons’ caverns beneath the mountains. “It’s beautiful,” I murmured.

Daegan and Maeve mumbled wistfully in agreement.

Catriona’s gaze raked our group. She lifted my arm, turning it so that my wrist faced up. The busted inkwell stared at us. “How did you get your marks?”

It was a question I didn’t want to answer. It was Cadeyrn who saved me.

“Stone.” The prince approached us, his father with him. All of us stood, half eaten apples and pieces of bread falling to the ground, our heads bowed. Catriona rose more slowly, her brows knitted together, Oran beside her. Lochlen emerged from a group of soldiers to stand just behind the prince.

“Dispense with the formalities,” the king commanded.

Cadeyrn’s gaze found my face, and he gestured at the castle. “Come. We need you in the war room.”

The king eyed the Henderonian princess before leaving the training fields. “Catriona seems quite taken with the rebels,” Freemont observed.

Lochlen kept step next to him. “Is the princess not allowed to associate with us?”

Freemont blinked. “It isn’t encouraged.”

My jaw tensed, my chin lifting. The Sadeemian king was willing to help us, but he wasn’t willing to accept us. I didn’t blame him, but it didn’t make me like it any less.

We were at the door to the war room before any of us spoke again.

“Sometimes the king forgets that it is our allies that have made our country as strong as it is,” Cadeyrn remarked.

Freemont’s cheeks reddened, but he didn’t rise to the bait. My lips twitched, amusement unfurling in my gut. Cadeyrn’s relationship with his father reminded me of Lochlen’s relationship with Feras. The only difference was their reserved interactions. Lochlen and Feras would have been shooting flames at each other, gold scales mingling with blue as they wrestled.

“Do you find us amusing, rebel?” the king asked.

He brushed past us into the room.

“No,
Your
Majesty,” I answered. “You remind me of another king I know.”

The war room was a circular chamber covered in maps. A long table sat in the center of the room, high-backed wooden chairs surrounding it. The scarred mahogany surface was covered in documents. Lord Conall and Gryphon bent over them, fingers moving over the pages as they murmured softly. They rose as we entered, Gryphon’s face breaking into a smile. He had a dimple in the left side of his cheek that transformed his entire face. I looked nothing like him.

“Another king?” Freemont asked. “I hope you don’t mean Raemon.”

If Conall or Gryphon were puzzled by our conversation, they didn’t show it.

“You remind me of the dragon rex,” I admitted.

Lochlen snorted. “Hardly.”

My lips curled, and I glanced at the floor to hide my grin. “You
are
a lot less blue, Your Majesty,” I mumbled.

Cadeyrn laughed. Silence filled the room. The prince wasn’t often prone to amusement.

The king coughed, his gaze sliding from his son to the table. “We need information,” Freemont said. He took his place at the head of the table before lifting a map. “This is outdated. It’s been years since anyone has surveyed the Medeisian kingdom.”

My gaze met Lochlen’s before we approached the table, each of us perusing the parchment.

“The mountains are wrong,” Lochlen pointed out. “There are two main summits, not three. They’re surrounded by four smaller mountains. They’re all part of the same range, but the geography here is wrong.”

I ran my finger over the edge of the desert. “The forest actually reaches to the edge of the Ardus. There are only two exceptions. The city of Treeton and my father’s,” I cleared my throat, “
Garod’s
manor. Both Treeton and Forticry open onto the desert, the trees having been cut down between them and the Ardus. It’s become a danger for children in Treeton. Many of them are lost to the desert.”

Papers shuffled, and then, “What of Aireesi?” Lord Conall inquired.

The capital of Medeisia had once been a magnificent place full of golden arches and magnificent temples before the Dracon wars. It sat now in ruins covered by vines and forests. Only dirty streets and poverty-stricken villages remained.

Touching an ink drawn arch, I muttered, “It is a city of fear. It is full of stench and sickness. There is nothing left of its former glory.”

Prince Cadeyrn moved next to me, his arm brushing my shoulder. “The palace?” he asked.

I looked up at him. “It is guarded well. King Raemon surrounds himself with loyal men, an inner circle of trusted nobles and sorcerers. The only way inside is through someone acquainted with the king, as a prisoner, or dead.”

“You’ve been inside?” Cadeyrn asked.

I nodded.

Gryphon’s hands met the table. “Tell us.” There was interest in his gaze that went beyond mere curiosity. My birth father may want little to do with me, but my half-brother cared.

It was the affection in his gaze that prompted my response. “Kye brought me as a prisoner. He had betrayed his father by protecting a group of mage-born children. He was wounded in the process and the children were slaughtered anyway.” King Freemont frowned, but I continued, “The only way to infiltrate Raemon’s circle is to give him something he needs.”
 

Touching my shorn hair, I said, “I was to be a tool. Kye took me to the castle as a boy named Sax, a scribe with the powers of a mage. He imprisoned Kye and used me to translate a Sadeemian document. It was the marriage alliance between Prince Cadeyrn and Princess Gabriella. It was then I discovered Raemon’s plan to assassinate the princess. Afterwards, the king had me thrown into the dungeons.”

Images of Kye shackled to a wall covered in blood had me grasping the table.

The king watched me. “You have spies within the palace?”

There was no use lying.
“Unconventional ones, Your Majesty.”

Gryphon grinned. “I wonder, how much do you know about our own court?”

My gaze met his. “The smallest soldiers often make the biggest champions.”

The king’s frown deepened. “You have spies here?”

Lochlen smirked. I shrugged. “You know I do, Your Highness.”

Freemont shook his head. “How much use can animals really be?”

“I swear humans are idiots,” a low voice drawled, and I glanced over to the side of the room to find Korrine the cat lounged on the ledge of an arrow slit window.

Cadeyrn’s gaze followed mine. “Gabriella’s cat.”

Korrine licked her paw before running it along the back of her ear. “Talk for me if you wish,” she told me. “I’ve grown sick of this court. I’ve grown even sicker of the betrayal.”

I stared. “You have many creatures in your palace, your highness. Promise me none of them will be harmed for speaking to me, and I will share any information they give me.”

My gaze slid to the king, and he inclined his head. “You have my word.”

My brows rose. “The cat says that all of you are idiots.”

Korrine scoffed. “I didn’t exactly put it that way!”

Gryphon laughed. “Smart cat.”

“She also speaks of betrayal.” My words had a sobering effect.

Freemont’s hands met the table. “Betrayal?” He glanced at the cat. “What betrayal?”

Korrine jumped from the ledge, her tail high as she sauntered across the room. “My owner is brainless! Did you know she thinks I am descended from the wild cats of Yorbrook? All because the man who gave me to her says I have the coat of a Grenling. I am descended from no Grenling! Do I look like a Grenling?”

My mouth parted, but she gave me no time to speak. Jumping in front of me, she ordered, “Go on! Tell them!”

I was too taken aback to do anything but obey. By the end of my translation, Lochlen was chuckling and the king’s face had reddened. Conall stared at the table. Gryphon was trying not to laugh.

“Is this your way of insulting royalty?” King Freemont asked. “By misusing your power?”

I stared. “You think I lie?”

The cat appeared bored. “Now that that’s out of the way,” Korrine muttered. “Let’s make this interesting. Tonight, Princess Gabriella plans to assassinate you.”

It took a moment for her words to register, but when they did I stumbled away from the table, my hand clutching my stomach. The shock of her announcement left me both hot and cold. It left me speechless. My heart pounded.