Page 10 of Poisoned Kingdom
He rolled his eyes. ‘Then at least take a bloody squire and your sword. Don’t go too far, either. We still haven’t traced the fae who tried to shoot you last week.’
His concerned outrage made me chuckle, but I dutifully took my sword from a squire’s hands and, for good measure, added a dagger to my belt.
‘Yes, mother. What else do you want me to take, a crossbow? Or maybe a mage who keeps forgetting his place and ordering me around? You know, I think your worry would ease if you did some manual labour,’ I said, chuckling as I gestured to the pile of logs my men had started chopping in preparation for the evening.
‘No, thank you, Your Majesty. I have plenty of work already, but have you spared a thought for the people who might see a king washing his horse like an ordinary warrior? What would they think?’
‘That I look good in a wet shirt? I don’t know, Ri, you tell me—but first, could you point those people out? Because we haven’t seen a single traveller the entire day,’ I said with a grin. I turned to a young man, still in training, who was serving us during our journey. ‘Come on, boy, you’ve been volunteered. Protect your king before our soon-to-be royal mage pops a vein scolding us both.’
‘I’m not . . .’ Riordan sighed, approaching me. ‘I’m serious, Rey. You’re not invincible, no matter what you may believe, and if you want time to think, then think about Duke Tivala’s proposal. His representative consistently opposes you at every council meeting, and the southern province is barely contributing any taxes or resources. We both know what that means.’
‘That they’re hoarding them, likely planning to rebel. I know, but it’s not that simple. Having a queen from the south would only strengthen Tivala’s position, but I promise I’ll give it some thought,’ I said, jumping on Kary and waving for the squire to follow.
The river was close by. It wound between hills, sometimes spreading out into occasional floodplains to create slower, shallower waters. We stopped by a bend where the water swirled and slowed, giving the sun time to take the harsh mountain chillaway. My stallion rushed into the river as soon as his saddle and tackle hit the ground, and I soon followed, much to the horror of my squire.
‘Sir, maybe I should do that?’ he asked, standing on the riverbank, watching as we enjoyed the currents.
‘And take away my pleasure? No, thank you. It’ll be our little secret. Go take a nap while I work,’ I said, grinning at the blush that crawled up his cheek.
‘I would never . . .’ he started, but I waved him off.
‘Yes, you would. I was a squire once, and I still remember how to sleep with eyes open while at attention.’
He blushed harder, fumbling with the collar of his shirt, but I’d already turned to my horse. I scrubbed his dark coat until it shone in the soft summer light. The freedom of the simple task was invigorating, but it soon became chilly as clouds covered the sun.
I led my mount out of the water and dressed hastily.
‘I’m going for a walk. Stay here and guard the horses,’ I said, walking towards a small hill nearby. The boy’s eyes widened.
‘You mustn’t go alone, sire . . . the mage will be furious if I don’t go along.’
‘And how do you intend to stop your king?’ I asked with amusement, taking pity on him and patting his shoulder. ‘We won’t tell Riordan but mind your words and never presume to give me commands.’
The sounds of the river faded away, replaced by those of birds and other wildlife the farther I walked. The hill was small but quite steep, distracting me enough to forget Riordan’s request.
Despite my friend’s concerns, I’d already considered the marriage contract Tivala had proposed. I had a duty to Dagome, and a queen from the southwouldbe best suited for the role. In fact, I had signed the document Tivala sent, thinking it would be easier to accept a loveless marriage once the ink had sunk intothe vellum . . . But looking at the Erenhart name on the page, I hadn’t been able to put the royal seal on it, let alone send it.
So, I hid it, stalling for time, keeping my decision secret even from my friend. Marriage contracts, once made public, were almost unbreakable, and I didn’t want to marry a woman I hadn’t even seen yet. My objections were based almost entirely on my dislike of Duke Tivala and his scheming. I doubted it would improve if his daughter became my queen.
‘I don’t want an enemy in my bed,’ I muttered, stroking a bear’s claw marks gouged deeply into the rough bark of an old oak tree.
Soon, I stopped at the brow of the hill, where a small copse of young trees provided convenient shade and a panorama of Wiosna. A few wisps of smoke caught my attention, and I looked down at a small clearing where some hunters had set up camp.
Maybe Riordan was right in warning me about travellers, I mused, assessing the men below. They didn’t look like typical hunters, and the camp appeared freshly made.
A flash of gold caught my attention.
It was hard to make out many details, but a woman was standing just at the edge of the clearing, as still as a statue. She raised her head, looking up in my direction, and it felt like our gazes met, though I was sure she couldn’t see me in the shadows. She took a step back then, disappearing into the forest like a vila1, a nature spirit as beautiful and capricious as life itself. I held my breath, unable to look away.
Suddenly, male voices cut through the sounds of nature, shouting angrily, followed by her scream. Before I knew it, I had my sword in hand, charging in their direction. I strained my ears, trying to identify the sounds I was hearing, hoping they weren’t what they seemed to be.
Deadwood and tree branches snapped and fell as I leapt into the clearing, changing direction when I heard the womanshouting curses. My heart was in my throat as I sprinted, but the moment I saw the hunters, the world slowed.
Four men had her pinned to the ground. One was sitting on top of her, hand on her throat. Two others were tearing at her shirt, while the last man kept hitting her head, shouting for his turn. My vision turned red.
‘You’ll take your turn in death.’
My voice carried, but they didn’t pay attention. One woman against four men—yet she fought like a mountain lion, thrashing and cursing her attackers until one last strike ended her struggles, her head lolling to the side.
