Siege: A Borrowed Magic Novella (4 page)

And then it all came rushing back. Kern. Her
father. The baby.

She let out a small sob. “I’m sorry. I’m so
sorry.” As if those pathetic words were enough.

“It’s not your fault.” There was no light in
Adare’s eyes. “You did everything you could. When we realized Kern
wasn’t coming for us, we knew you were in trouble. But by the time
we got there…Kern was gone.”

“But why?” Maren cried. “He wanted revenge on
Daric. Justin was innocent.”

“And what better revenge than to murder
Daric’s son.”

Again, Maren felt nothing from her. As if all
her emotion had been killed with her son.

“Maybe now that he’s gotten that revenge,
he’ll just leave us alone.” Adare didn’t sound as if she believed
it.

Maren didn’t either.

“How long has it been? How am I alive?” Maren
asked.

“It’s been three days. And I think Kern
thought you were dead,” Adare said. “I know we thought so when we
first found you. The room was destroyed, as if something had
exploded. You were lying underneath the door.”

She’d hidden behind it. Until she’d passed
out. She looked over and slowly pulled the bandage off her shoulder
– and gasped.

It was burned black, just like her father’s
chest had been. Only that wasn’t all. Faint, glowing blue lines
emanated from the center, spreading out over her skin like a web.
Magic. Tears stung her eyes again. Her father was dead. Philip was
gone. The prince…

Adare put her arms around her. “We’ll get
through this. We’ve lost people we love, but we have to go on.”

Rage like she’d never felt burst inside her.
“This is all Kern’s fault.” She tried to push herself up to sitting
but sank back when the pain overwhelmed her efforts.

“The healer tried,” Adare said, “but Kern’s
magic is too powerful.”

“You mean I have to live like this the rest
of my life?”

“The healer hoped the pain would eventually
fade.”

Maren closed her eyes and leaned back against
the pillow. Even faded, this kind of pain was unbearable.

Five

Maren listened as Daric briefed the gathered nobles.
He’d ordered them all here a week earlier. Many had come. Some
hadn’t. Most out of fear – rumors had trickled in for the past few
weeks that Kern was preparing for some sort of attack. Others
stayed away in blatant disregard of Daric’s order.

Someone asked about gathering mages again to
defeat Kern, to which Daric raked a hand through his hair. There
weren’t any – at least none powerful enough. And not in
Tredare.

The lines in Daric’s forehead were deeper
than they’d been a month ago. They matched Maren’s own. The pain
hadn’t really faded, but as many times as the healer tried, nothing
worked. She’d resigned herself to the fact she’d live with pain for
the rest of her life.

It was like being stuck at the bottom of a
well knowing no rescue was coming.

“Have we heard anything from the neighboring
kingdoms?” Daric asked.

His only answer was silence.

No one was coming to help them. They feared
Kern too much. They knew what he was capable of – even if they
didn’t know the whole truth. The prince’s death couldn’t be kept a
secret, but the cause could. The kingdom was already paralyzed with
fear. Letting them know Kern had already invaded the castle, had
killed the baby, would only incite mass panic. Which Daric was
struggling to prevent at all cost. All while finding a way to stop
Kern. And dealing with the loss of his son.

No wonder the lines in his forehead were
deeper.

“We need to try again,” one of the Lords
said. “Send someone to the other kings. Beg if we have to.”

Daric shook his head. “And what if we haven’t
heard anything because all the messengers we’ve sent are dead? Do
we doom someone else to the same fate? Would any of you volunteer?
Even with an army to protect you?”

Silence again. Because everyone knew he was
right. Kern had spies everywhere. Even without spies, it wouldn’t
be hard to track down the contingents of soldiers Daric had sent to
each of the neighboring kingdoms and kill them. They were too
conspic—

Maren jumped up from her chair and then
gasped in pain and sank back down. She cursed, reminding herself –
again – that she couldn’t move so quickly. When she looked up, the
entire room was staring at her, and Daric knelt next to her
chair.

“Maren?” he asked, whispering so the others
couldn’t hear. They thought she was recovering from an illness.

“I have an idea.” She looked down at her
hands. Daric wasn’t going to like it. “Send
me
to the other
kingdoms.”

Daric’s face went from shock, to disbelief,
and finally settled on anger. “No.” He pushed himself back to his
feet and walked away.

“You have to send me, Your Majesty,” she
said, loud enough the entire room could hear. “I’m just a girl. No
one would suspect my mission. I can travel alone. Kern’s spies
wouldn’t give me a second glance. And because I’m my father’s
daughter, I know enough to actually help.”

A few hopeful whispers echoed through the
crowd.

Daric glared at her. “No,” he said again,
even more firmly this time.

“But, Your Majesty,” one of the Lord’s
said.

“No!” Daric yelled. He stomped forward and
grabbed her arm – the uninjured one – and leaned towards her,
lowering his voice. “You aren’t going. That’s final. I’ve lost
enough. You’ve lost enough.”

“But it’s a good idea, Daric,” she insisted.
“Someone needs to go.”

“And it won’t be you. You’re only seventeen.
Not to mention the last time I let you do something for me, you
were almost killed.”

“Who else will volunteer?” she demanded.

Silence.

“Exactly.” She reached for his hand. “Let me
go. I’ll be safe. We’ll get answers. Maybe even help. Besides…” She
took a deep breath and whispered so only he could hear. “It’s my
only chance to find a mage powerful enough to heal my shoulder. I
can’t live like this.”

It was low, and she knew she shouldn’t have
used it against him, but she needed him to let her go. Not just
because they had to contact the other kings. Not just because she
might find a competent healer. Those were things she could admit to
Daric. But also because she might find Philip.

Daric stared at her for a long time. The
creases in his forehead seemed to get even deeper. Then he sighed,
and it sounded as if he were surrendering.

“All right.”

And then suddenly the room was full of
discussion. But Daric just sat there staring at her with eyes full
of regret and sadness and…hope.

Sevela, Cralle, and Elacien. Three kingdoms visited.
Three refusals of aid. And not just aid against Kern. Maren’s
injury was as bad as ever. Possibly worse from all the travel, all
the sleeping on hard beds – if there was a bed at all – and long
days of riding. No matter what she did or how slowly she moved, her
shoulder hurt.

And she hadn’t found Philip. Not even a word.
At first, she saw him everywhere – in the young man disappearing
around a corner, in the back of a head in a tavern. She’d even
chased after a few, calling Philip’s name, only to be met with
confused glances of people who obviously thought she was crazy.
Especially since her speech and clothing gave her away as being
from Tredare – the kingdom threatened by Kern. The kingdom no one
wanted to help.

The kingdoms used to be friendly. Goods
flowed freely. Court visits were common.

Until Kern.

And dark magic.

She urged her horse forward over a slight
rise in the road and then stopped as King Senred’s castle rose up
before her. It was a castle of strength, with solid watchtowers and
tall battlements, in a kingdom known for its military strength.
Soldiers guarded the gate, standing in straight lines, ready to
defend against anything.

She would have come here first – were it not
for its king.

Senred was as guarded as his castle. And he
had a long, complicated history with Tredare.

Maren headed for the castle, stopping only
when a caravan came up behind her and she moved aside to let them
pass.

A quick glance at the contents of the carts
confirmed a number of suspicions she’d heard her father discuss
with Daric. They’d long thought Senred and Lord Montagu, a
Tredarean lord who held lands along Senred’s border, were illegally
trading goods in order to avoid tariffs. And it wasn’t hard to
understand why Montagu would go to such lengths. He’d questioned
Daric’s ability as king from the very beginning. Not his right, his
ability – and his age. It hadn’t gotten much attention because
Daric effectively proved his ability when he trapped Kern in the
tomb.

Montagu was also one of the only Lords who
refused to come when Daric had ordered them all to Delorme.

She frowned. This may be even harder than she
thought.

When she reached the castle, she gave her
name, presented the letter from Daric, and was escorted to the main
hall.

A few minutes later, King Senred bowed over
her hand. “Lady Maren, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. Of
course, I met your father on a number of occasions. I was so sorry
to hear of his death.”

He didn’t sound sorry, but now wasn’t the
time to be impolite. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“And to what do I owe this honor?” Senred
asked.

“I came for two reasons. First, to beg your
aid on behalf of Tredare. To help us find a way to defeat
Kern.”

His expression didn’t change at all, gave no
hint to his thoughts. “And second?” he asked.

“I came for aid personally.” She hesitated,
wanting only to share what was absolutely necessary. “When Kern
came to the castle…” She didn’t expand, didn’t say Kern had invaded
the castle twice instead of the one time everyone knew about. “I
got in his way, and he gave me this.” She pulled the sleeve of her
dress down over her shoulder until his eyes widened in shock. “As
you know, we don’t have mages of sufficient skill in Tredare to
heal such an injury.”

“I always thought Daric’s decision to shun
magic was…unwise.”

“So it would seem,” Maren said.

Senred didn’t say anything for a long time.
He just stared at her, arms crossed over his chest, as if he were
making a decision.

“Does it hurt?” he finally asked.

“Yes.”

“How badly?”

“All the time,” she said. “Like someone’s
twisting a knife in my shoulder. It’s bearable if I don’t move, but
since that’s not usually an option…”

The corner of his mouth twitched. Almost as
if he were trying not to smile. “What can you offer me for my
help?”

“With Kern or my injury?”

He shrugged. “Both.”

“King Daric has authorized me to promise
whatever you want.”

“As I’m sure you know, the only thing Tredare
has that I want are diamonds.” He paused. “And since I’m going to
have those anyway, why should I risk fighting Kern.”

It took a minute for the full implications of
his words to sink in. Daric would never just give diamonds to
Senred.

But Montagu would.

She looked at Senred with barely veiled hate.
“So you refuse to help Tredare against Kern?”

“Yes.”

“And what happens when Tredare is destroyed
and you’re the next target?”

He laughed. “Oh, I won’t be the next target.
In fact, I won’t be a target at all.”

The same thing the other kings had told her.
They were all certain Kern wouldn’t attack them. But why? True,
Kern wanted revenge on Daric, but men like Kern didn’t stop once
they’d gotten a taste of power. Unless…

She almost gasped aloud. The other kingdoms
had made a deal with Kern. He wouldn’t attack them if they didn’t
aid Tredare.

Senred must have watched the emotions play
across her face because he laughed again. “I see you
understand.”

“Perfectly.” She swept him a low bow. “I’m
sorry to have taken up your time.” Then she turned and stepped
towards the door.

“And what about your injury?” he called.

She didn’t turn. “What about it?”

“What would you personally be willing to do
for the use of my mages?”

Her hands clenched. “I have nothing you
want.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you begging at my
feet.”

Now she spun around. “I will beg if that’s
what you want, although I have no idea why it matters to you. I am
no one. Nothing but a young woman trying to help her kingdom.”

“You are your father’s daughter,” Senred
said, voice full of hatred. “Lord Haven, always so condescending,
always thinking he knew what was best. To have his daughter’s
well-being in my hands, to see her beg at my feet…let’s just say it
settles old scores.”

Her first instinct was to slap him. So was
her second. Both of those had to wait because if he could help her,
even if it meant begging, she’d do it.

She stepped forward. “I
am
begging.
Please, help me. Let your mages at least try.”

“You’re still standing.”

She sank to her knees. “Please.”

He looked down at her, an exultant look on
his face. “No,” he sneered. “Now get out of my kingdom before I
have you thrown out.”

Rage engulfed her. She jumped to her feet and
slapped him full across the face. After which, she found her arms
pulled behind her back as Senred’s guards rushed to restrain her.
They weren’t gentle, and she couldn’t help but cry out as her
shoulder burned, paralyzing her with pain.

Senred only watched her with cold curiosity.
“You weren’t exaggerating about the pain.”

“I’m not exaggerating either when I tell you
how horrible you are. You made a deal with Kern to further your own
selfish ends. You won’t help me even though it costs you nothing.
It’s just spite. I hope Kern comes after you next. I hope he
destroys everything you hold dear and leaves you to rot. Death
would be too easy.”