The Destroyer Book 3 (15 page)

“I am tired of hearing your voice, Otrila. Do not speak again until I address you. If these Ancients come here, and you so much as breathe loudly, I swear on the Spirit of my brother, father, and mother that I will fucking gut you before they kill me.” Nadea’s father stood by the window and his voice was more sinister than I ever heard. He had a small corner of the curtains lifted and peered into the afternoon light to view the Ancients. He was so focused on the window that he did not even look at my mother when he said the words.

“You cannot threaten me in such a manner, Beltor!” she screeched in outrage. Rayat’s family clung together at the far corner of the table. I could not tell who they feared more: the four of us in their home, or the force of Ancients in their village.

“They are coming. Shhhh!” my uncle ordered. I heard the stress and fear in his voice and I felt my body grow cold. The wood of Rayat’s family table was slick under my hands from my sweating palms.

“Do not speak to them. I will do the talking. Do not make us regret the decision we have made.” Greykin’s voice was a low rumble of rolling hate. I felt it vibrate the surface of the table and the bones in my chest. Rayat, Greta, Tira, and Jiure had taken me in, fed me, and provided for me for the last few months. Now that they knew who I was, they stared at us in awe and disbelief. Especially Jiure.

“Please don’t kill my son,” Rayat said for the tenth time.

“Silence, peasant. I have not decided on his punishment,” my uncle spat from the side of his mouth. He moved toward the door as a knock echoed throughout the home. I felt some pity for Jiure now, seeing him cowed and injured, no longer the looming threat he had been. A stab of pain from my injured foot reminded me perhaps I was being too generous with my mercy. I cradled my belly with one arm and silently prayed to my grandmother that our baby was unharmed.

Beltor and Greykin had concealed their weapons under the family’s table. My mother, Greykin, and I sat at the table nearest the door. When Beltor opened the door, I could see the two armed Ancients on the porch.

During the banquet when my father knighted Kaiyer, the Ancients who attacked him had worn golden armor that looked like insect plates. The Elvens who kidnapped me wore finely crafted leather padding dyed black and gray. Both of these Ancients wore protection similar to Greykin’s trusty mail shirt. But their armor was composed of tiny links of chain. Each piece was engraved with leaves, flowers, and trees. There was something odd about the metal. It seemed almost the color of the green frosting that ships often carried on their copper pieces. Through my fear, I wondered if the blood of all the people they had killed caused their mail to rust.

“Is this your farmstead?” one of the Ancients asked. They were both men and had long braided hair in slightly different shades of slate gray.

“Yes,” Beltor’s voice didn’t tremble.

“How many head of cattle do you own?” As if by some unspoken cue, the Ancients stepped forward, and while they didn’t push Beltor back physically, he was forced to retreat from the doorway or risk colliding with the armored men.

“Do you want some of our livestock?” Beltor asked. He moved his body away from the entrance and tried to block their view of the family room.

“Yes,” they said in unison. Their faces were almost identical, or at least, I couldn’t make out any difference between them besides their hair color.

“We have one hundred and thirty.” The lie came quickly to Beltor’s mouth. I knew we had almost two hundred.

“Which fields are yours? We will require half,“ the Ancient with the darker hair said. Suddenly his eyes made contact with mine. They were the color of a dull ruby and I couldn’t help but shiver. I tried to look away. I felt like he knew everything about me, knew why I was here, knew who I was, and knew about Kaiyer.

“It will be five crowns a head.” Upon hearing Beltor’s price, the Ancient’s red eyes released their hold on me. I held back a sob in my throat and tried not to whine. My hands clutched the table and I realized my nails were digging into the hard wood.

The Elvens stared at Beltor for what felt like an eternity. Their faces betrayed no emotion; I couldn’t tell if they were shocked at his demand.

“Five crowns is more than our budget allocation,” finally, the one who had stared at me said. I felt the tension in the room ease.

“We have the best cattle in this village, nay, in Nia and Gradar. I’ll show them to you right now if you wish.”

“Which field? We will inspect them ourselves,” the lighter-haired one frowned. The other one turned his attention back to me. Beltor noticed his gaze.

I wished I had listened to my mother and put on better clothes. Greykin’s cloak covered my tattered dress, but it seemed like the red-eyed Ancient’s gaze penetrated the garment.

“Northeast. I am proud of them and would enjoy showing them to you. Let me saddle a horse and I’ll lead you there.” Beltor’s voice was urgent.

“Who is she?” The Elven raised his hand to point. I gasped and my heart stopped beating.

“That is my daughter, my wife, and servants,” Beltor answered. “You are scaring them. I’d like to take you away so they can relax.”

“Why are they not working?” the other Ancient said.

“I called them in when I saw your army. I thought you would butcher us. That is what the stories say. at least.” My uncle laughed nervously.

“Don’t be foolish, human. You need not fear,” the lighter-haired man smiled.

“Anytime and army comes in we have to be afraid, I’m sure you can understand that. But it looks like I might have to fear your haggling prowess! Come; let me show you my herd. I want my five crowns and I’m sure you want this over with so you can continue on your way.” Beltor gave a short laugh and gestured toward the door. The Elvens nodded in unison with his last statement.

“You are correct, human. We must continue on our journey.” The darker-haired Ancient that had pointed at me reached down to his right hip. There was a leather pouch there the size of my spread hand. “This is much more than your asking price. How many horses do you own?”

“My man back here handles the horses. How many can we spare?” Nadea’s father turned around and looked to Rayat with an angry stare that the Ancients didn’t see.

“We have s-s-s-s-ix,” Rayat stuttered. I doubted I could have even spoken if Beltor had asked me a question.

“Excellent. We will take two of them,” the Ancient said.

“Fine. Let me show them to you.” My uncle gestured to the doorway and the Ancients nodded.

Then the three were gone.

“Thank the fucking Spirits,” Greykin whispered after a handful of seconds passed.

“Do not use such language in front of me,” my mother said with an angry look at the Old Bear.

“Sorry, my queen.” The big man bowed lower than his big frame should have allowed. I knew the Old Bear well enough to believe his words were sarcastic.

“Beltor is a fool. He should have explained our situation and surrendered. The empress has already promised our family asylum.” My mother tossed her hair with an annoyed flip of her left hand. “I cannot stand to spend any more time in this hovel. I wish to return to the castle with my daughter.”

“Go back then. It's a short walk.” Greykin’s beard concealed his mouth, but I could tell from his voice that he was close to either screaming at my mother or breaking this house down on top of us.

“I do not appreciate your attempt at wit you ridiculous, broken drunkard. If you had not failed in your duty of protecting my daughter, none of this would have happened. I blame you for the fall of our kingdom. Bless the Spirits that my son was able to salvage a relationship with the empress.” Her insult caused Greykin’s face to turn a shade of red I had never seen.

“That isn’t true, mother!” The words escaped my mouth in a whisper and I hardly realized I had spoken.

“What ‘isn’t true’ daughter?” Her voice mocked mine. “That this old man failed, or that your brother saved our kingdom? Or perhaps something else in your little bird brain is finally working and you think you can explain this situation better to me? Maybe you’ll actually be able to offer a solution instead of just letting yourself be taken advantage of?”

I shook under her ice cold stare and her upturned lip. I tried to speak, but I didn’t know what to say and the lump in my throat seemed to be preventing me from even breathing. My foot throbbed. My vision got blurry and I blinked to keep the tears at bay.

“Are you crying now? My poor, useless daughter.” She sighed and covered her face with her delicate hands. “I should really blame myself for how you turned out. But I just cannot. Your father and his lack of discipline had far more to do with it than I did. At least you are beautiful, or you will be again when you have recovered from whatever you did to yourself in the forest.”

I tried to speak, but the words were lost to me. Instead, I felt removed from my body. When the sobs hit me again, I couldn’t fight them. I was not in control anymore.

I didn’t think I had any tears left.

I should have expected and prepared myself for her scorn. She was right. I was always at someone else’s mercy. Greykin needed to protect me, then Kaiyer, now Nadea’s father. Maybe it would have been better if I had been taken to the empress and tortured. Maybe I should have just died when they tried to kidnap me.

Greykin’s cloak was warm and heavy. But I still felt cold and couldn’t stop shaking. His face was almost the color of wine, but his blue eyes stared at me with empathy. Had this been any other day in our previous life, the old warrior would have wrapped his giant arms around me so I could cry into his chest. He would have told me how amazing I was, how beautiful I was, and how my mother was wrong. Eventually he would calm me down and do something to make me laugh. Then he would turn me over to my handmaidens, and they would clean the tears from my face before sharing the kingdom's gossip.

Everything was broken now. Even though my guardian sat in front of me, he couldn’t risk angering my mother. He was sworn to do her bidding. What would Nadea do if my mother had just spoken to her that way? The thought gave me mixed emotions. Nadea was smarter, braver, and more beautiful than me. Even my mother could not find fault in my cousin. Or maybe she just knew that Nadea would not tolerate such insults.

The door opened so suddenly the draft blew back my hair. Everyone jumped to their feet in surprise.

“Fuck! Horses!” Beltor’s eyes were wide and panicked.

“What horses?” Greykin asked in confusion.

“There were three Nia horses in the stables!” Nadea’s father slammed the door quickly behind him and ran over to the window to peer out again.

“We left them in the forest though,” Greykin said with puzzlement.

“Those were the horses that the Ancients stole from the castle stables when they took me. Kaiyer left them here as payment to Rayat for housing us,” I said slowly.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Greykin suddenly looked as panicked as Nadea’s father did.

Then I understood the mistake.

“They didn’t notice. But it changes nothing. Just buys us a few hours maybe. Someone will see the brandings and the saddles. They were stock from the Royal Stable. The Ancients will wonder how those horses got here and then piece the situation together.” Beltor sighed and then let the curtain fall down in place. “I thought we had escaped detection.”

“We should go back to our horses in the forest and leave,” Greykin said with a nod, approving his own idea.

“Where will we go? We have twenty thousand troops in the North, but the snow hasn’t thawed yet and we couldn’t make the journey. We can’t go east to my keep; the Loshers will have troops there.” Beltor sighed with frustration.

“Could we go south to Brilla?” I asked. The sound of my voice surprised me. My mother looked over at me disapprovingly.

“We would have to go through Nia. We would probably get caught.”

“What if we sailed there?” I asked. “We might trade the horses for a small boat and get to Brilla that way?” My voice lost its volume when Beltor and Greykin didn’t nod in approval. The cloak seemed to press down on me, forcing my shoulders to slump. The wool fabric felt itchy and horrible.

"No one knows how to sail, Jessmei." My uncle shook his head with a displeased expression.

“I would not risk myself on a boat. I have no desire to travel anywhere but my home,” my mother said with her chin held high in the air.

Beltor moved quickly across the room and I heard the sound of the slap before I saw him hit my mother. He struck her with the backside of his hand.

“I told you not to speak until I addressed you.” She stared at him in a beautiful mix of amazement, shock, horror, and contempt. Rayat clung to his daughter and pulled is son closer to him.

“How dare you hit me Beltor? I am your queen!” She looked over to Greykin and pointed at Nadea’s father. “Are you going to let him touch me?”

“Aye.” The Old Bear smiled big through his beard and chuckled a little.

“You have failed my family again. I--“ Beltor’s hand flew out and smacked my mother across the face in the same spot. It seemed like this was a much harder blow, and my mother’s head snapped to the side.

“Do not speak unless I address you,” Beltor repeated with slow enunciation. “I know it is difficult for you to comprehend this situation. But I am in charge here, not you. I don’t serve you. I serve our kingdom and the rightful heir to my brother’s throne.”