Page 90 of The Dragon Queen

“It’s what the people I share blood with do.” Draven stared at the now dead lord, a terrible sadness I’d never seen before in his eyes. “They killed my brother, my father, and countless others, for no other reason than greed. They found a way to skew the selection of the next queen to always be in their favour and that grab for power wasn’t enough. My mother supplanted Zafira’s true bondmate and then set about trying to take more power, then the throne itself. She and my uncle conspired to kill her own son when it became clear that Felix had discovered their plot and wanted nothing other than to stop them.” He shook his head. “What makes you think my uncle would care anything for some women?”

“But we do.” My voice sounded like the creaking of a rusty hinge. “We do. That’s our point of difference, otherwise…” I looked beyond the open door of the tent, the destruction we’d wrought framed perfectly there. “This is just a clash between two destructive powers and all of Nevermere will be crushed between you.”

The War Of Two Queens was taught for a reason, and it wasn’t just to explain how humans became the dominant force in our country. It outlined the fight between two powerful factions, each one with the capacity to destroy our island home. Every child was supposed to learn a lesson from that fight, but it appeared we were the only ones to be tested for our comprehension.

“My uncle is using hostages to motivate those lords he can’t persuade to fight,” Draven told the general and the other riders when we walked over. “He’s taken their womenfolk and I mean to find where.”

“Female hostages?” Rex seemed to finally have a human reaction, the disgust plain on his face. “This is why the queen?—”

“Needs to lead the rescue effort?” He stepped forward with a grin, and I took a step closer before I thought the wiser of it. Flynn grinned and then continued. “A woman would be far better equipped to help others who’ve been mistreated by the very duke who was supposed to keep them safe.” His wink was a swift thing, looking like little more than a blink, so no one else would see it. “Sounds like a good plan to me. When do we fly out?”

Chapter 43

I moved to the next person who was lying down on a stretcher, one of the many in the field hospital. My men were off discussing the rescue mission with the general, but I couldn’t just sit there and discuss things, not while looking out at the devastation of Castle Fast.

“Hello, I’m Pippin,” I said, the woman lying there eyeing me warily, and why not? I was moving forward, a bucket of clean water and a rag, ready to help clean the cuts and abrasions I could see on her body, but who put them there? We did. I forced myself to smile and then wrung out the rag. “I’m just going to clean the dirt from your cuts if that’s all right with you?”

I wasn’t sure what she was going to say. It felt like my role in all of this was writ clearly on my face, so I couldn’t understand it when she nodded. Thinking wouldn’t help the woman, though. I picked up her arm gently, internally wincing at the injury there, and then went to work cleaning the skin around it. Her hiss had me looking up, but she smiled nervously.

“Here’s me thinking it hurts before it actually does. My young ones do it all the time.” I followed her eyes reluctantly to where two small children were being seen by a healer. They didn’t seem toohurt, but what did I know of such things? “They scream bloody murder before I’ve even had a chance to clean their scrapes.” Her eyes met mine. “Thank you for helping, milady.”

“It’s the least I can do.” The words were squeezed out of a throat that was half closed up, my tone strange and strangled. Rather than get caught up in my own guilt, I nodded and continued my work, cleaning away dirt and blood until the hurts the healers would need to tend to were all plain on her skin. “Now, the healers will come by soon. Can I get you some water in the meantime?”

“That would be lovely,” the woman replied.

“I’ll return shortly with some then.”

Walking out of the field hospital was a blessing each time I did it. The air seemed clearer and so was my head, just for a moment. Then my mind would replay all the hurts, all the pains people endured, and I’d be forced forward again. Guilt was a hell of a motivator it appeared. I found a water skin and ensured it was mostly full before returning to the woman’s side.

“There you go.” I was a picture of cheerful calm, my mask firmly in place as I handed her the water skin. “I think you’ll be seen after the healer is finished looking over your children.”

“Thanks again, milady,” the woman said, taking the skin and then drinking down water greedily.

I felt guilty for not offering her some before this. Guilt for water, for harming her, harming her children, it felt like it was piling up on my shoulders as I hoisted the bucket up and then tossed it out onto the grass, only to walk over to the only working pump we’d found and then working the handle. Over and over, I lost myself in the repetitive motion. My arms burned from the effort. I’d grown soft living away from the pigs, that became clear the second time I did this, and I’d lost count of how many times thus far. I focussed my attention on the bucket, on it filling, rather than everything that was clamouring for my attention. That let the exhaustion in.

If I was tired and sore before we even reached Castle Fast, I was beyond weary now. A battle, a recovery, a healing, it would have all been enough to have me retreating to my bedroll and pulling a blanket over my head and sleeping for a week.

But I’d need to do that to the sound of people hurting.

Moans, cries, even a ragged scream that started and then trailed away, they were what jerked my attention back to the here and now. The bucket was as full as I could manage right now, so I bent down, my spine, my arms protesting, but I silenced them. This was my penance and I would?—

“What’re you doing?” Ged appeared before me like an apparition, a look of concern on his face. “I thought you were going to sleep.”

“I can’t.”

I tried to walk around him, bringing the bucket with me, but that was plucked from my grip and carried with too much ease. His strength had my teeth locking down, because it made me feel even weaker than before.

“Pippin, what are you doing?”

I didn’t answer him immediately, walking towards the hospital instead. The cool night air was breezing past and if I was shivering, so must everyone inside the hospital.

“We need blankets.” I turned to face him. “We have some, don’t we? In addition to what people brought with their bedrolls. Ged, you were working with the supply teams?—”

“Yes.”

He put the bucket down and that was wrong. That was not what we were doing. Certainly not this as his hands went to my jaw, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks. Not him staring down into my eyes, catching the moment the tears started to well there, proving the general right.

I was not made for war. One battle and that became clear. No vicious queen dragon defending her young, nor a brave warrior queen like Inara, I was just Pippin. Recklessly caught up in some kind of battle fever when the ballista were firing javelins at my men, my dragons. However, once it’d faded, I was left cold, empty and filled with regret. That’s what had me jerking away, staggering forward, going to grab the bucket from where Ged had set it down.

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