Warrior Queen (Skeleton Key) (8 page)

“We are vulnerable with so few Heavenlies.” With Nadri gone, there was one less.

“I know. We can divine a way forward when we have rid ourselves of the Southern scourge.”

“If we had more Heavenlies, then we would be able to fight them more effectively. How goes the bomb?”

“It goes well. We have tested several over the cliff. The magic works, but they will be lethal. They are the kind of magic that once deployed, it will be hard to stop the spreading use.”

“If we were to be at war amongst ourselves...” If Nadri managed to turn a city against her, or if one of the other Queens decided that she wanted a bigger territory, those bombs could be used on her people. She blew out a breath. The crawling tension was back. “Send Bryce to the archers; let us see if he can hit a target.”

Before the priest could reply, Keleti walked over to the woman coordinating the fights and put her name down for the next round.

B
ryce wiped his forehead
, not that it made any difference. It was humid and hot, and as soon as he wiped himself, his skin was slick again. Now he had grit stuck to his face from grappling with the last man to fight with him. At least he had won that fight.

His hand, wrist and arm ached. He was sure that come this evening, the rest of him would be hurting too. Using an actual sword was very different to pretending to use one in a game. He had a couple of nicks on his arms to prove how sharp the swords were, and how skilled the people he’d been fighting were.

He took another long swallow of water.

He needed something to eat. A sugar hit…he was missing the prepackage snacks of home. He wanted a burger and fries. Chocolate, and salty chicken flavored chips. He settled for sitting down. He’d get food later and a wash, although it wouldn’t be a bath. They weren’t wasting water on anything as frivolous as a relaxing soak.

Not that he would be able to relax. All of this fighting was for one reason; to make sure those fuckers on the other side of the wall didn’t kill everyone.

If it came to sword fighting, he was so very dead.

He’d faced that fear before, but somehow it had never seemed quite so real. His life before coming here was fading as though it had been a dream.

Keleti glided through a series of elegant attacks and defenses. The sword appeared to be part of her. Weightless and fluid. If he had even one per cent of her skill…

The blue eyed priest, that obviously had a thing for the queen, strolled over. Bryce kept his gaze on the fight. He was getting blisters on his palm from holding the sword all morning, the skin swollen and tender. But he wasn’t going to complain. He’d already given everyone more than enough entertainment.

He could’ve excused himself, but he wanted to know if he’d be able to defend himself. The answer was a big, fat no with a side mocking laughter—which had only been in his head because everyone was far too polite.

The priest stood next to him for a moment before speaking. “Today the first time you’ve held a sword?”

“Yep.”

“What about a bow?”

Bryce nodded. “I did archery through high school.” He’d liked the way he didn’t need to rely on anyone else. It was just him and the target. When his parents had separated he’d spent a lot of hours at the range just to be out of the house. The money had dried up and he’d had to quit. The bow had been sold so he could buy his first piece of junk car. “But that was a long time ago.”

“Well, perhaps you’d like to try again.”

Did he want to pick up a bow again? What if it had been too long or the bows were too different? He forced out a breath and glanced at the priest. Saying no wasn’t really an option.

Keleti’s round ended. While everyone knew she was the Queen there didn’t appear to be any concession made. Keleti had lost.

The priest nodded. “The man she was fighting is one of our best swordsmen. If he’d let her win she’d have been horrified.”

“Where I’m from, He would’ve had to let the Queen win.” People let those in power win all the time, even if they didn’t deserve to. Money and power bought a lot in his world. Here, the dynamic was different, and every time he thought he had it nailed down, he realized that he didn’t.

“That proves nothing and shows no respect to either fighter.”

“It shows obedience.”

“And what good is that in a fight?”

Bryce shrugged and picked up the shirt he’d tossed on the ground. Fighting in a skirt wasn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be. There was a definite freedom that pants didn’t have. Not that he would ever admit to it when he went home, but he was starting to like wearing a skirt.

He followed the priest to where people were practicing with their bows. There was a steady drum of arrows hitting the targets. Then silence as the bows were lowered and the arrows collected. It was all very smoothly run. He wasn’t given a very powerful bow and he was taken through the basics, which started to come back to him.

He remembered the feel of the bow, and the lining up of the arrow.

And then the sting as the string snapped against his forearm. He bit back the curse, but didn’t stifle the whoop when he realized that he’d hit the damn target—only just but it counted. Maybe today was looking up.

All he had to do now was repeat that feat, and gain some accuracy, to prove it wasn’t a fluke.

By the time dusk fell Bryce was hurting in places that he didn’t think could hurt. He found his way to the baths in the palace—which while having height and a confusing array of corridors, wasn’t actually that big. The city itself was walled, but what had been farms on the outskirts were now burned fields.

Today was the first day that he didn’t feel quite so supervised. However his guard was still tagging along. If the invaders broke in, having a personal guard could come in handy.

The main bath was in use. He recognized a couple of the priests. There was a more private bath through another door which is what he’d used the last time but he was guessing that was the Queen’s and he didn’t have her permission to use it again. While he didn’t really want to bathe in public, he didn’t want to sit around feeling grubby and smelly either.

He took off his clothes, folded them and placed them on the bench before picking up a dish that held soap and a brush. He knew he was supposed to scrub the worst off and sluice down in cold water before enjoying the warm bath. Or in this case a bowl of warm water. The large baths were being used to store water. He had no idea how clean it was, and hoped that it would be boiled before being drunk.

He scrubbed away the dried sweat, braced for the cold water—it still hit like a punch to the guts taking his breath—then casually made his way to the square bath to get a bowl full of the warm water.

The priests on the other side were talking as they scrubbed. He caught snatches of their conversations. They were talking signs from the gods, the dire need to get rid of the Southerners, sword fighting… Bryce tuned them out as he dried.

It was hearing her name that snapped him back to the present and their conversation. He listened as the priests talked about the queen needing a consort. That if she had taken the Southerner, this war could’ve been avoided. She was being too picky.

Wasn’t she entitled to be picky?

He still wasn’t entirely sure why she needed a consort in the first place. She had heirs. She had lovers during the rituals. Although, was that the only time she was with someone?

Their talk stopped abruptly and Bryce turned.

Keleti had walked in with her children. She sent them through to the private bath with an attendant.

Her gaze leveled at the two priests. “If you would like to be ruled by a Southerner, feel free to walk out the front gate. Otherwise I will choose my consort in my own time.”

She then stripped off her clothing and scrubbed in the main bath area as though she had nothing to hide and no fear of what they might say. The priests chose that time to dry themselves and leave. For how long had she been standing there listening?

From the other room, her children were laughing and squealing.

“Bathing with them is not relaxing.” She rinsed with a bowl of warm water, taking no more than anyone else. “Bathing like this is not relaxing.”

“No, but it is better than not bathing at all.” He was aware all he had was the cloth he’d been drying himself with, and it wasn’t nearly as big as he’d have liked. She was very naked, and her kids were in the next room. His body didn’t care how inappropriate its response was.

“I heard them talking—why is it so important you have a consort?”

She was quiet for a moment. “A consort has no right to rule on his own, but if I am away he stands in my place. He would take over some of the simpler duties. That is why I refused the Southerner. I wouldn’t be able to trust him.”

“And who looks after your other cities? Other consorts?”

She laughed. “No. Although that idea has merit. I rule through a woman who has sworn to follow my footsteps.”

“But she cannot fly.”

“No. Not usually. Sometimes a commoner shows signs of being a Heavenly. They are offered the chance of becoming my first servant and running a city. Not all are capable of taking on such a vast job though, and not all want it.”

“If you had a consort, you could spend more time at your other cities.”

“Yes. When my mother was alive it didn’t matter, because one of us was always here. Driska is still too young to be left in charge for even day.”

“How old is she?”

“Fifteen. I was twenty when I took over the rites from my mother.”

Bryce nodded. The kids had gone quiet as they listened to their mother talk. No doubt Driska had heard her name and was curious to hear what her mother had to say.

Keleti glanced at the screen. “I should see what mischief they are up to, Ambassador.”

She finished rinsing, the water streaming off her. His gaze lifted from her feet up her legs, to the dark hair on her mound, her stomach, which bore the lines of pregnancies, her soft breasts, and finally her face.

She walked over to him, her finger brushed his cheek. “Are you thinking of applying for the job?” Her voice was soft, barely audible over the lapping of the water in the bath.

He clutched the tiny cloth tighter in front of him. He was very hard now and very glad that she wasn’t looking there.

“I don’t think I am suitable.”
I’ll be going home.
But he couldn’t think of a good reason to go home at that moment.

“Do you have someone waiting for you?” There was an edge of hesitation in her voice.

He shook his head. There was no one.

Her lips curved. “Then don’t judge yourself so harshly. No one else is.” Her hand fell away and she disappeared to join her children.

There was a splash and a giggle and murmured words.

He closed his eyes. He didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong with her. But he wanted her. She was strong and powerful and didn’t need him. That was what had been missing in his previous relationships. They had needed him and he had always failed to meet that expectation.

B
ryce didn’t know
what had woken him. For a moment he lay still. Leaping into action without knowing what was going on was a sure way to end up doing something stupid, and something stupid in the middle of a war could be deadly.

There was no one in the room with him.

He eased out of bed and pulled on his skirt—he had no idea what had happened to his pants—and slipped on some sandals. Then he heard it, a screech and clang. There was a moment of silence, then a bell sounded. Clear and rhythmic.

Shit.

This was it.

He slung the quiver over his shoulder and picked up the bow. He’d also been given a small knife. The weight of his next breath almost crushed him, then it was gone. He wasn’t going to wait to be found. He was not going to die here.

The guard knocked on his door.

Bryce opened it, ready as he was ever going to be.

The male guard was gone replaced by a woman. “The city is under attack.”

“Got that. Are they trying to scale the wall?”

She shook her head. “Not from soldiers. Fire. Soldiers would be a different ring sequence.”

He was probably the only person who didn’t know what the different sequences would sound like. “What can I do?”

She looked at him strangely. “I don’t know, what can you do?”

He’d forgotten that he was supposed to offer a skill, instead of being directed like a child. “I can do first aid and fight fires.”

This was something he actually had experience in, even if it was with different equipment.

The guard led him through the castle, people were hurrying by, all of them busy. No one looked panicked. Smoke drifted through the open corridors. He didn’t know what was burning, but it smelled bad, really bad. He caught a whiff of flesh and was back in front of the burning car.

The guard swore. “They are sending burning chickens over.”

Chickens?
Bryce was able to push through the memory of the car wreck to find reality.

“How do chickens get over the walls? Burning chickens?” It sounded as gross as he imagined it to be.

“They are killed, dipped it oil and set alight. Makes a mess as well as creating fires.”

It was obviously a tactic that had been used before as the guard didn’t seem surprised at all. All those thatched roofs were nice and dry. They’d be catching alight, and it would force people to use water to fight the fires. There was also a second problem.

“Dead animals will spread disease.” Antibiotics probably hadn’t been invented yet either. Until that moment he hadn’t been too worried about his health. Now…what kind of bacteria were in the burning chickens? Even if they were cooked as they burned, they would eventually rot.

They stepped out of the castle and into the smoke shrouded streets of the city. He watched as a great hawk flow overhead and dropped a bag of something from great height.

The guard groaned. “Waste.”

“Waste?”

“Bags of offal and shit.” The guard looked unimpressed. “We’ll be spending tomorrow cleaning.”

Yet as the bird flew back over the wall to get another load, no one did anything. They were letting it happen because they still saw the traitor as sacred.

He shrugged off the bow. He could stop anything else from being dropped. “Where is the highest point in the city?”

The guard put her hand on his arm. “No. We cannot harm a Heavenly. We have to help our people.”

“The river is dry,” someone shouted as they ran toward the castle.

“Use dirt to smother the fire.” Bryce called out. The runner looked at him as though he was strange. “I’ll pass the message about the river, tell them how to fight the fire without water.”

“Will that work?” The runner seemed confused. Everyone was. It was the middle of the night and the city was riddled with spot fires and guts.

“Yes. Is there any way to get the ocean water up here?” That would be even more effective.

“Not without two Heavenlies,” the guard replied.

He needed to lose the guard so he could take a shot at the traitor. “Where do the injured get taken?”

“To the hospital, next to the public temple.” The guard pointed across the courtyard to one of the roads that lead to the center of the city.

He’d been down there that morning. He remembered seeing the temple, not the hospital, but then he hadn’t been looking. “Pass on the message about the river. I’ll go and help there.”

Then he took off in the direction the guard had pointed, without waiting to see if she’d follow, and prayed that he didn’t step in anything. Boots were better than sandals, but he didn’t have any of them. What had happened to the shoes he’d been wearing when he’d arrived?

The hospital was right next to the temple and the priests were already up and taking care of people. The wounded seemed to be suffering from burns and the priests had it all locked down. They washed their hands between patients like any doctor, then cleaned and applied bandages and some paste to the wound.

He wasn’t needed here at all, so he didn’t feel guilty about leaving. Instead he followed the ringing bell. The tower was the highest point that he could see. The noise from the bell as he got closer was bone jarring, but he went up the ladder anyway. When the ringer paused Bryce’s ears still rung with the echoes. His heart was hammering. He was about to commit a great evil in their eyes.

He wasn’t one of them.

He reached the top. The bell ringer looked at him. An old man who signed something in the language of the archers. Maybe the man was deaf from all the bell ringing. Bryce shrugged, not understanding him, and pulled himself out the window. He chose not to look down, he already knew that fall would be fatal. The old man grabbed Bryce’s ankle. They stared at each other for a moment. The old man seemed to take in every detail. Then he released his grip.

Bryce pulled himself onto the roof before the old man could change his mind.

He was sweating, and his stomach had shrunk to the size of a walnut. The roof slanted to one side, it would be too easy to accidentally slide off. This was going to be precarious at best. It wasn’t one of his greatest ideas.

The bell started tolling again. The vibrations rattled his bones.

Below him there were eight spot fires, a couple of them were spreading, jumping from building to building. Somewhere behind him was where the river was supposed to flow into the town. He didn’t want to think about that right now, and he couldn’t turn to see. He lifted his gaze from the city to the sky. Up here there was a breeze, it snuck around him and sent up wafts of burning feathers, offal and smoke.

He wrinkled his nose. Tomorrow was going to be worse. The reek in the full sun…

He hoped he got to see tomorrow.

The hawk flew across the wall, brazenly low. She didn’t expect to get shot. He squinted against the smoke. She was carrying something. It wasn’t a cluster of burning chickens, or a bag of offal. She swept lower and came up talons empty.

He blinked. Not sure what he’d just seen. Had Nadri just dropped an enemy solider in?

It’s what he’d be doing in this chaos. Hidden by the smoke the enemy could find a place to hide. There was no one he could call out to from up here. When he got down he’d tell Keleti. He shrugged off the bow, careful to keep his balance. One arrow slid out of the quiver and off the edge off the roof. His heart stopped, caught high in his throat.

What the hell was he thinking?

Nadri flew over the wall again. She was taking the same path.

Bryce notched his arrow and drew in a breath and sighted. He exhaled. Then released. The arrow got close enough to make her startle, but it didn’t hit her.

“Damn it.” His fingers were suddenly sweaty and clumsy. He wanted to send off a volley but he had ten left and he had to make each one count. He wiped his hand and fired again.

But Nadri had him in her sights and she managed to avoid it.

“Goddamnit.” He forgotten that she could see far more acutely than him.

She dropped the enemy soldier safely and flew toward him. He aimed and shot, missing again. She was going to get him and kill him. Then she pulled up abruptly as though she’d hit a wall. Their gazes met and in that moment he knew that the Southerners distrust had saved his life. She was still tethered.

He took that moment to make another shot. It clipped her. Feathers fell then she was wheeling away into the smoke. He doubted that had been a fatal shot. No, that would only be a minor annoyance.

He lay on his back and took a few deep breaths. Adrenaline was making his hands shake. He laughed. He stuck on a roof as the city burned. There were enemy soldiers now in the city and there was no water.

He needed to get down.

There was no way he trusted his hands right now.

Maybe she’d come back without the tether, he’d be able to get a good shot in before she could grab him. However he wasn’t feeling like going down with her either. He didn’t have a death wish.

As the smoke drifted by him, and the hawk didn’t appear, he had no idea what he wished for. Maybe for there to be no battle. For time to get to know Keleti better. She was five years older than him but was a mother and queen and had her life together.

He had nothing here or at home.

He’d fucked up a simple shot and had failed to take out Nadri, allowing her to put at least two enemy soldiers into the city.

They needed to be found. He sat up and looked over the edge of the roof. His heart drooped like a stone. Getting up had been easy and he’d been full of the need to act. Now that need had grown cold he wasn’t sure he could get himself down.

Most of the fires were out now and the two that had spread and were being fought. A hawk with a splash of white on her neck flew in from the ocean. Keleti. She circled over him.

Bryce gripped the ends of the bow and held it up. Then he closed his eyes as she swept back and jerked him into the air. He counted slowly. After three he opened his eyes. On five he hit the ground running as she released him and took off again. He dropped to his knees. He’d never been so glad to be on the ground.

He forced himself up as Keleti landed in front of him. She shimmered from hawk to human and stalked over like a furious naked goddess. “What were you thinking?”

“To stop the attack.” He wanted to lower his gaze, wishing he’d stayed on his knees, but he knew she’d find that offensive.

“By killing her?”

“That’s what I was hoping for.” Next time he couldn’t fail. For a moment he thought that she was going to be angry that he’d tried to kill a Heavenly.

She cupped his chin. “You could’ve been killed or snatched up and taken over the wall.”

That had occurred to him, but only when Nadri had flown at him. “But I wasn’t. She was dropping Southerners in during the confusion.”

Her face hardened, her eyes glittered gold. “How many?”

“Two that I counted.” That was two too many.

She pressed a hard kiss to his lips then turned and in the next step shifted and took to the air, leaving him alone in the drifting smoke.

K
eleti was running
on very little sleep. Her city smelled like rotting meat. Several building were still burning—including a grain store. Her cousin had known where to start the fires. And they still had no fresh water coming in.

And there were spies in her city. Two at a minimum.

And Bryce had tried to kill her cousin. A Heavenly. He could have killed her by accident, but he’d only raised his bow so he could be lifted down. Somehow he’d known to lift his bow the way any warrior would. He’d also known which hawk to aim at. That thought was no more settling. He’d still tried to kill Nadri.

He would not be popular if that news got out.

Right now people were distracted with the cleanup, and the whole city was on alert and looking in every hiding place for any Southerner. So far nothing. Extra guards had been set at food stores and wells. Not that the wells would remain viable for long.

She had people hauling up seawater to purify, but there wouldn’t be nearly enough to go around and it would take time to remove the salt. If they weren’t careful they’d weaken from thirst and then be ripe for attack.

They needed to unblock the river.

Messages of support were coming in, and there was an army on the march. Noticeably one of her cities was no longer communicating with her. That had been the city that Nadri had tended. They had betrayed her—or were they already under Southern rule?

For the moment her city and these people had to be at the front of her mind.

She went into the temple and sat in the center. This was the quietest place in the whole city at the moment. While plans were in action, it was what Bryce had done which troubled her the most.

He had seen nothing wrong with taking down a Heavenly. That wasn’t just royal blood in Nadri’s veins. There was the magic of the gods.

He wasn’t one of them…her gods weren’t his.

If people knew what he’d done they might turn on him. She couldn’t be fighting a war within her city. She wasn’t sure she should be protecting him. Or trusting him.

“What do I do?” she whispered.

She didn’t expect an answer. The gods were never that direct. She wanted to give Bryce all the arrows he needed to end this war. But Nadri was still her cousin. She was a Heavenly. If Nadri was dead there would be one less Heavenly.

How long until there were none?

It was one thing to fight with another Heavenly and try to take over a city, but it was another thing entirely to side with the Southerners. To submit to man who wanted to break the divine order and rule himself.

She remained sitting, her mind tumbling instead of still.

No one would disturb her here. There was so much that she needed to do. The weight was too much and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. Her mother had made ruling seem easy. Even when she had stepped down, after the death of her consort, Keleti had been able to rely on her assistance.

Since her mother’s death, there had been no one to help. That had been two years ago.

Someone moved around the edges of the square. Keleti refused to open her eyes to see who it was. They could wait. She gritted her teeth. She couldn’t make them wait. Hiding in here she was just putting off all of the things that needed done.