Chapter 10

As planned, Gustav notified the stables that Avera would be going for a ride, and from there she readied herself quickly so as to not give the traitor too much time to prepare. As she went to exit the palace, she ran into Josslyn.

“Where are you off to?” asked the lady who was dressed in a lovely gown of green, nipped at the waist, with tight sleeves.

Shooting a quick glance around, Avera murmured, “To see if we can catch a traitor.”

The statement widened Josslyn’s eyes. “I take it this is because of Venne’s abrupt death.”

Avera nodded. “Gustav finally agreed to see if we could draw them out so I’m going for a ride.”

“I’m coming with you,” Josslyn declared.

“It might be dangerous.”

“Then you definitely shouldn’t be alone,” Josslyn huffed.

“I’ll have some rooks with me.” Avera inclined her head to show her pair of shadows.

“I am coming, and you can’t change my mind.”

In truth, Avera didn’t want to. She’d be glad of the company. “Then let us be off.”

They emerged from the palace into a gloomy day, the skies heavy with gray clouds. They walked to the stables, their skirts fluffing with each step, leading Avera to grumble, “How goes the plan to make trousers a new fashion?”

Josslyn laughed. “Not well. I asked my seamstress and she looked so appalled.”

“I don’t see the issue. Men wear them all the time.”

“Patience. The good news is as queen you will set the fashion. Already the ladies are wearing much more subdued styles, matching your own.”

Were they? Avera hadn’t noticed.

An already saddled Luna stood just outside the stable with a groomsman holding her reins. Avera almost sighed in relief to see they’d used plain tack as requested rather than the fancier stuff other royals used when going out. Avera preferred her gear to be functional rather than pretty. Not to mention, she liked to avoid being noticed, especially now.

“My queen.” The man bowed low. “Your steed is ready.” Upon noticing Josslyn, he asked, “Will the duchess require her mount as well?”

“Yes, please,” Avera stated. “And my rooks will require horses to ride as well.” She gestured to her pair of shadows.

“At once, Your Majesty.” The man trotted back into the stable and in short order four horses stood in the bailey. As the groomsman handed the reins of Josslyn’s mare to her, he said, “My thanks, Duchess, for the new hay. The last batch we had wasn’t the best quality. The horses are already much happier.”

“Glad to hear it,” Josslyn declared. “I hope you’ll let me know if anything else is required. After all, these fine animals deserve it. Oh, and keep an eye out. I’ve got something special being delivered later for their caretakers.”

The man beamed ear to ear. “Thanks, Duchess.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank her majesty. She’s the one who demanded I rectify the situation.”

“Majesty.” The man hit the ground and bowed his head.

It still embarrassed, because honestly, all Avera had done was tell Josslyn to spend whatever she needed to in order to make things right. “You’re welcome.”

“Where are you riding to?” the groomsman asked as Avera checked Luna’s straps. Her steed could sometimes be naughty and puff out her belly to keep them loose.

“Just outside the city for some fresh air,” Avera replied.

“Watch you don’t go into the woods. Rumor is there’s brigands preying upon people.”

“And the knights haven’t cleared them out?” Avera frowned.

“Only started a few days ago,” he advised. Right around the time of her mother’s death and coincidentally on the same path she usually chose to ride.

“We won’t go far, and fear not, I’ll make sure the Grand Rook is made aware and sends out some troops to handle it.”

The women used wooden steps to mount their steeds, with Avera grumbling, “I can’t wait until I can sit astride all the time instead of using a side saddle.” She’d done it before. On numerous occasions, she’d taken Luna out and, when out of sight, removed the saddle to ride bareback. She quite enjoyed those spurts of rebellious pleasure.

“With any luck, after she gets over her shock, the seamstress should have some sample trousers for us within a few days.”

Avera couldn’t wait. “Shall we, Duchess?”

They moved at a sedate pace as they exited the palace bailey and clopped onto the stone bridge. Despite not announcing her excursion, people popped out of their homes and stuck their heads from windows, pointing and exclaiming, “It’s the new queen.” Some also added, “Is that the duchess?”

It led to people calling out to her, offering blessings, condolences. A few threw flowers. A discomfited Avera waved and smiled, feeling foolish. She’d done nothing to deserve this accolade. A much more relaxed Josslyn blew kisses and appeared to enjoy the attention.

“You’re better at this than me,” Avera admitted as they passed out of the crowded street and entered the open fields just beyond the city’s edge.

“It’s an act. Trust me, I’d rather no one paid me any mind, however, when playing a role, one must give them what they expect.”

“It wasn’t an act for my mother.” Avera had often watched her mother from a hidden spot in an alcove. She’d seen how the queen always held herself regally, had a smile and word for everyone—but her daughter.

“She had decades to feel comfortable in her position. You’ve had less than a week. Give yourself time.”

“And if it never feels right?”

“Then fake it. I’ve done it with a few lovers.”

Avera’s jaw dropped.

Josslyn laughed. “Don’t look so shocked. Sometimes it’s easier to pretend than to have them keep fumbling and missing the mark.” She winked.

“Weren’t you married?”

“Yes, to Goffrey, a kind man gone too soon. A good thing I don’t have issue finding lovers.”

“I never intended to have a husband, but it seems I don’t have a choice,” Avera admitted.

“With the right man, you’ll see marriage can be a pleasure.”

Avera had her doubts. “Will you marry again?”

“Perhaps. Although, I do enjoy my freedom.”

As they exited the city, the road tucked between the shorn fields appeared unobstructed which led to Avera saying, “Shall we race?”

Josslyn glanced behind her at the rooks keeping pace without crowding them. “We might lose your escort. Their horses aren’t as fast.”

“Just to the edge of the woods, then we can stop and wait for them before entering.” The temptation to feel free, if just for a moment, had her smiling when Josslyn nodded.

“Fly, Luna,” Avera whispered, giving her horse a nudge with her knees. Her steed bounded forward, her long legs stretching and thumping as they rode hard for the forest a half league away. Within it, Gustav would already be hidden with knights and rooks. He might even already have the supposed brigands in custody. After all, it seemed rather more than a coincidence they appeared shortly after her mother’s death. Especially since they’d never had issues with thieves this close to the capital before. Add in the fact she used to regularly ride this route and it seemed likely the brigands had been put in place to cause her accident.

The part that bothered? It was obviously someone not only familiar with her routine, but also with the fact she loved to ride.

Avera pulled ahead of Josslyn’s mare, her hair streaming like a banner at her back. The air was so fresh and clean. The field of hardy grass, needing little rain to grow, stood barely knee high, short enough for her to see anyone hiding in it.

What slowed her run was noticing a strange totem sitting between the road’s edge and the mown crop. Shaped like a lizard, the statue appeared quite hideous.

Josslyn cantered a few paces past Luna before turning around to see what had Avera staring. “What is that ugly thing?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it and think we should head back.” Avera and Gustav had not told Josslyn of the snake in her room and the clay statue that caused it.

“It’s just a silly statue,” Josslyn laughed.

A statue that suddenly emitted vapor that began to take shape.

“Run!” Avera shouted. “Back to the palace.”

She turned Luna around only to stare in shock as more plumes rose from the field, a half dozen at least.

“Avera, what is that thing?” Josslyn whispered.

Avera turned her head to see the mist from the statue had taken on a lizard shape, its leathery exterior ridged a mottled gray-green. Its tongue flicked between pointed incisors and its eyes glowed a strange green. A quick glance behind showed the other vapors in the field had also coalesced into monsters.

“Ride for your brother,” screamed Avera, pulling her dagger, and flicking the button to extend it into a sword. She could already hear the rooks at her back galloping to reach them. Avera swung as the lizard lunged for Luna’s legs.

She missed.

The lizard hugged the ground too low for her to reach. Luna understood the danger and reared, trampling its head. The lizard hissed but didn’t die.

“There’s more of them coming,” Josslyn announced.

Indeed, they scurried from the field, all heading for Avera. The rooks slid from their mounts and stood, weapons at the ready, to engage the monsters.

Luna whinnied as the lizard whipped her front leg with its tail.

They had to get out of there.

“To the woods,” Avera shouted, digging her knees into Luna’s sides.

Only the path forward disgorged more monsters. One stood in their path, hissing. Without missing a beat, Luna soared over it. The horse landed and kept running, leaving behind the ambushing creatures and the sorely outnumbered rooks. Would the monsters disperse now that their target had fled?

A glance over her shoulder had Avera gasping to see her protectors on the ground and the lizards scurrying for them. Josslyn raced by her side, expression intent.

Their plot to trap the traitor had gone horrifically awry. Then again, how could they have planned for this? Magical statues that disgorged monsters? She worried for Gustav, especially once they entered the woods where she could clearly hear the sound of fighting. The ringing clash of blades and shouts indicated more danger. Avera should have turned around, but given the choice between the monsters or Gustav, she chose the latter. At least he seemed to be fighting men.

Josslyn cried out, and Avera half turned her head in time to see the duchess yanked from her mare as a man stepped out from behind a tree. The lady didn’t go quietly or easily.

“Let me go!” Josslyn thrashed and yelled.

Avera slipped from Luna’s back and raced to Josslyn’s rescue, sliding low and slashing her captor behind the knees.

He screamed as he slumped, and Josslyn stumbled away from him, wide-eyed and afraid, as Avera gritted her teeth and jabbed, killing the attacker.

But he was only one of many.

“What are we going to do?” Josslyn panted.

Avera didn’t know. A battle raged all around. There were at least a dozen brigands fighting Gustav and his men. Twice as many as Gustav had brought. Many more than they’d expected. Just how deep did this conspiracy to remove her run?

With two choices—run or fight—Avera chose the latter. Gustav and the soldiers fought to save her. Would die to save their queen. A queen should be willing to do the same for her people.

Screaming, “For Daerva,” Avera ran at the nearest brigand, not caring if he had his back to her. They’d chosen to not fight fair. They could now pay the price. She skewered him in the back, her blade sliding in easily, and as the body went to drag it down, she yanked it free. Whirled. Swung.

Clang. The vibration of metal hitting metal rang up her arm, and she clenched her jaw as tight as her fist. She couldn’t let go of her weapon. If she did, she’d die. The man facing her pulled back to swing again, his skill with a blade more about brute strength than finesse. She thanked all her lessons as she parried and found the opening to slash, opening up the brigand’s stomach.

As she turned to look for the next foe, Gustav yelled, “Get out of here. There’s too many.”

“The path to the castle is blocked!” Avera hollered back as she ducked a swing and thrust her weapon under a man’s guard, nicking him in the thigh.

“Bloody whoresons,” Gustav cursed as he swung his heavy blade, smashing aside a sword before he took his opponent’s head.

Only two other rooks remained standing, and still six brigands to go. Make that seven, as one stood off to the side watching, while also holding Josslyn by the hair.

Avera headed for him and growled, “Release the duchess at once.”

“Or what?” mocked the figure, his tone familiar.

It hit her suddenly. “Benoit?” she exclaimed.

“As if you didn’t already know,” he replied. Despite having a sword clenched in his hand, he managed to tug free his hood, showing tousled hair and a smirk. “I have to admit, I was surprised you didn’t have the guard out looking for me after you overheard me and Venne in the cellar.”

Should she admit she hadn’t known? While familiar, the man in the dungeon had spoken in a deep and serious tone, unlike the Benoit she’d barely known, who usually either spewed syrupy praise or sly rejoinders.

“How did you know I was there?” Avera thought they’d gone unnoticed.

“I have my ways. One might even say a little bird told me.”

Her mind flashed to the statue she’d seen in her late mother’s office. “You were the one behind the assassins,” she stated.

“And so much more.” His grin turned smarmy. “Assassins aren’t the only thing I had smuggled into the country. I’ve been running Horizon’s End’s black-market for more than a decade now.”

“You?” She couldn’t help but sound surprised.

“Yes me, and no one outside my circle of allies ever suspected. Thanks to me, things banned for import could be acquired for a price.”

“What did my mother ban?” She didn’t recall a list.

“Things she didn’t think added value to Daervian society. Certain alcohols, drugs, magic infused tokens. Because of me, no one had to do without.” He sounded quite proud of breaking the law.

“You’re a criminal.”

“I prefer the term entrepreneur. I see an opportunity and I take it. Like the throne for example. I wanted it, and so I took steps to sit on it. Alas you keep getting in the way. A pity the little surprise I left in the bedroom failed.”

“Guess you should have used more than one statue,” was her dry reply.

“At the time, I only had a single sample, but as you noticed, I’ve since increased my stash of magical weapons. Expensive, but worth it.”

“You’ll pay for your treason,” she stated, wondering how to get him to release Josslyn.

“I don’t think so. See, already the story of your greed is circulating. The bastard daughter of the late beloved queen, hiring assassins to murder her family so she could steal the throne.”

Her jaw dropped. “No one will believe it.”

“Won’t they? After all, Venne wrote about it in his captain’s log, full of regret at what he helped you do.”

“You’re a monster,” she huffed.

“I am a man of vision who will be king. And my first act will be to execute the traitor known as Avera Voxspira.”

She shook her head. “You’ll never be king. The people will choose someone wise and?—”

“The people will do as they’re told and those that don’t will die. Kill a few, and the rest will fall in line.”

“Move aside, Avera. I’ll handle him.” A grim Gustav limped to her side, bloody, but alive and alone. The rest of Benoit’s brigands lay dead, but at the cost of all the soldiers but for Gustav.

Josslyn remained wide-eyed during the exchange. Surely terrified. Or not… She had her hand in front of her, the fingers flexing around an object. A hairpin. Not a dagger, but suddenly Avera understood what she planned.

Gustav growled, “You’ll never sit your scurvy buttocks on the throne.”

“And who will stop me, old man? You? The Grand Rook who failed to stop the murder of all his charges? Who actually abetted Avera in her devious plot so that his own sister could become duchess.”

Benoit had thought of everything. Avera saw Josslyn’s eyes narrow and knew she was ready to act.

“The people will soon realize you’re a despot. They’ll see through your lies,” Avera countered, keeping his attention on her.

“And if they do? What then? You’ll be gone.”

“Over my dead body,” Gustav growled.

“That is the plan, and no one will care. Amazing how easy it is to convince people to join your cause when you promise them wealth.” Benoit’s lips tilted into a sly grin. “And then there’s the fact they’ve been told they can have any of the ladies whose husbands refuse to follow my lead, as well as those who think they can play the part of a man, like the uppity duchess. I’ll be showing the duchess her proper place before the day is over.”

Benoit pulled Josslyn’s hair, yanking her head back, and the lady hissed, “I’d rather die.” She rammed her hairpin into his thigh, slamming it deep, and while not grievous, it led to Benoit grunting and thrusting her from him.

His eyes narrowed in anger. “I’ll make you hurt for that.”

“Only if you can catch me.” Josslyn grabbed her skirts and ran for her mare, which stood with Luna on the outskirts of their impromptu battlefield.

Gustav advanced on Benoit. The coward didn’t stay and fight, but rather ran in the direction of the fields and the lizards. When Gustav would have followed, Avera snared his sleeve. “You’re in no shape to fight Benoit or the monsters he unleashed.”

“But he killed Calixte.” His voice emerged low and raspy.

“And he’ll kill me and your sister, too, if we don’t escape.”

The decision, stay or go, took only a second before his shoulders slumped and he sighed. “This isn’t over.”

“No, it’s not. We will beat Benoit, just not today.”

Probably not even tomorrow.

Or the next day.

Because killing him wouldn’t be enough. She also had to counter his lies.

And there wasn’t a weapon in Daerva that could slice through the web he’d woven.