Chapter 12

Avera darted across the hall to pound on Gustav’s door. “Fire!”

She heard a muffled, “What?” but didn’t stick around. He’d soon figure it out. She returned to her room and shut the door to minimize the smoke, then shook Josslyn. “Wake up.”

“What is it?” mumbled Josslyn.

“The house is on fire.” A word that had Josslyn’s eyes popping open.

“Oh dear,” Josslyn exclaimed as she rose from the bed. “Where are my clothes?”

Avera had already begun dressing, her gown sliding over her petticoat. She’d just finished buttoning it when a pounding at the door had them both eyeing it.

“Open up. It’s me, Gustav.”

Josslyn wrenched the door open. Smoke billowed in, causing Avera to cough. Gustav quickly shut the door and strode over to the window for a glance.

“What are you looking for?” Josslyn asked.

“A way out.”

“Can’t we use the stairs?”

A grim Gustav replied, “No. Whoever set the fire wanted to ensure no one would escape.”

“We need to wake Lord Harry and Lady Rianna!” exclaimed Avera.

“I’ll go hunt them down. Be ready to leave,” Gustav ordered.

“Leave how? You said the stairs are on fire,” exclaimed Josslyn.

“We’ll go out via the window.”

“There’s no ladder,” his sister pointed out.

“Hence why we’ll have to jump and pray we don’t break anything.”

Gustav left while Josslyn’s jaw sat on the floor.

“Jump out the window? Is he insane?” Josslyn squeaked.

“I agree leaping isn’t the best option.” Avera’s gazed tracked the items in the room looking for another option.

“What other choice do we have, though?” Josslyn’s lips turned down.

“I have an idea. Help me,” Avera ordered, pulling at the sheets.

“What are you doing?”

“Creating a rope from the blankets.” She tied the corners of the sheets together. “Get the window open.”

“Where did you get such an idea?” Josslyn asked as Avera tied an end around a bedpost. A blast of fresh air helped clear the room of smoke, but given it kept sliding in through the cracks around the door frame, it would only be a temporary reprieve.

“A story I heard in the kitchen. The shoemaker’s wife was having an affair and one day her husband came home early. Since her lover couldn’t exit without getting caught, he used the sheets to climb down from the window.”

“I take it worked since he survived to tell the tale.”

“Oh no. He died. The husband dropped a chamber pot on his head.”

“That’s terrible,” Josslyn gasped.

“He shouldn’t have made the husband a cuckold, but his idea worked.” Avera tossed the knotted sheets out the window. “Who’s going first?”

“I am,” Gustav announced as he abruptly reentered the room, the brief opening of the door to the hall bringing in a cloud of smoke. “Good idea using the sheets.”

“Where’s the lord and lady?” asked Josslyn.

“Dead.” A flat reply. “Killed in their bed.”

“Most likely the same person who tried to enter our chamber,” Avera murmured.

“Who did it?” Josslyn asked as Gustav gripped the makeshift rope and gave it a tug.

“If I were to guess, Xavier. I knew the lad had issues, but to kill his own parents... I didn’t see that coming. Maybe I am too old.” With that sad claim, Gustav swung out the window and climbed down. At the bottom, he glanced up. “Quickly now. Between the smoke and the fire, you don’t have much time.”

The former tickled the throat something fierce and prickled the eyes. The latter had the floorboards underfoot warming.

“You next,” Josslyn insisted.

Rather than argue, Avera clambered quickly, huffing at the effort but making it to the bottom. Her sword training had left her stronger than most. Not so Josslyn. She appeared on the ledge, hesitant and afraid.

“Come on, Lyn. You can do it,” coaxed Gustav.

“I don’t know if I can,” she admitted.

The house groaned.

“You don’t have a choice. Move. Now!” he barked.

Josslyn grabbed hold of the sheet and squealed as her body dropped down to dangle. Only her fisted grip kept her from falling. “I can’t,” she panted.

“Yes, you can. Just move your hands, one after another.”

“I’m too heavy,” she lamented. “I shouldn’t have had that second serving of dessert.”

Gustav stood below her. “Then let go. I’ll catch you.”

“I’ll squash you like a bug,” Josslyn huffed as, with great strain, she slid one hand down.

The house began to visibly waver.

“Gustav…” Avera murmured.

“I see it,” he whispered back. Then louder, “Lyn, we don’t have time. You need to keep moving.”

“I’m try— Aah!” Josslyn lost her grip and fell, but true to his word, Gustav broke her fall.

With his own body.

Josslyn rose, patting down her skirt. “You make a terrible pillow, brother.”

Gustav groaned as he rose. “Remind me to not do that again.”

“Did you just call me fat?” huffed Josslyn.

“Never. Quickly, away from the house. It’s about to collapse.” Gustav grabbed them each by a hand, dragging them away from the house that billowed smoke and glowed orange. When it fell, it did so with a whoosh that sprayed embers, leading Josslyn to slap her skirt.

“As if my clothes weren’t ruined enough,” she grumbled.

Avera couldn’t stop staring at the inferno. The lovely home gone. So quickly. Their hosts, that kind couple who’d taken them in, dead.

“To the stables,” Gustav barked, snapping Avera out of her shock. “We need to retrieve the horses before the fire spreads.”

As they ran for the barn, they could see light coming from within. Gustav motioned them to silence and crept up to the door for a peek.

Whatever he saw stiffened his body and he wrenched open the door to throw himself inside. Yelling followed, and as Josslyn hurried with Avera to see what occurred, Xavier suddenly came flying, literally. His body soared through the air and hit the ground with a hard thud.

Gustav stalked out, blazing with fury. “You puling pile of shit. You murdered your parents.”

“And?” Xavier drawled as he staggered to his feet, wiping at the blood trickling from his lower lip. “They were old.”

“They were good people,” Gustav growled as he punched Xavier.

Xavier hit the ground again, spitting blood and teeth. He remained unrepentant and snarled, “They gave me no choice. They wouldn’t get out of my way.”

“With good reason given you’re an idiot,” Gustav exclaimed.

“And what of us?” Josslyn snapped. “You tried to burn us alive.”

“A pity that failed. I would have been rewarded had I managed to kill the bastard queen.” Xavier’s gaze slewed to Avera.

“You know who I am,” she murmured.

“The moment you showed up with Gustav, I knew.” Xavier stood but wavered on his feet.

“Who would have rewarded you?” Avera asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, your bastardness?” The idiot sneered.

“Answer her,” Gustav yelled, lifting his fist again.

Xavier didn’t cower but he did reply. “The king would have shown me favor.”

“We have no king,” Josslyn huffed.

“Don’t we now?” Xavier stated with a mocking grin. “If you are fleeing the capital, then that means he must have taken the throne as was the plan along, once your whore of a mother died.”

“You speak of Benoit,” Avera murmured. “You knew of his plans.”

“We are allies.” Xavier spoke proudly and it was a wonder Gustav didn’t take his head. Avera would wager he held back mostly because Xavier proved talkative.

“Who else has Benoit conspired with?” Josslyn questioned.

“Enough lords of standing that the bastard fleeing doesn’t even matter. She’ll never wear the crown and it’s only a matter of when she dies, not if, for we are everywhere, preparing for he who comes.”

Avera latched on to his words. “He who?”

“The master,” Xavier stated, using the same title they’d heard before but no name. “The master shall reshape the world, removing the weak, rewarding those of us who aided in his return.”

“Who is this master? Why help him? If you already own Daerva then what more do you expect to receive?” Avera wanted to know because this sounded like more than a coup.

“His name is not for the likes of you.”

“We’ll see about that.” Gustav lunged and grabbed Xavier by the shirt. Before he could pummel Xavier, the man slipped loose of his garment and ran for the forest.

Gustav took off on foot after him, but Xavier had the vitality of youth fueling his escape.

The old rook soon returned huffing and red-faced. “I’ll need my horse if I’m going to catch him.”

Josslyn put a hand on his arm. “We don’t have time to chase him down.”

“He’s going to tattle to Benoit about seeing us,” Gustav growled. “Not to mention he’s a stain upon this land.”

“Agreed, and one day he will receive his due, but right now, I’d say it’s more important we get the queen far away from here,” Josslyn suggested.

It took a moment before Gustav nodded. “Let’s get the horses and be on our way.”

Their mounts were quickly saddled, and soon they were galloping off into the night, the fire lighting the sky at their backs, their clothes and spirits worse for wear. Despair weighed on Avera. What could she do when it seemed they couldn’t trust anyone? If Xavier spoke the truth, then the conspiracy involved more than the lords in the capital. Just how many though? How many plotted the murder of her mother? How many wanted to see Avera dead?

Who was this master who inspired such evil?

She didn’t speak, none of them did, as they travelled in secret, scrounging what they could, the berries barely filling the gnawing knot in her stomach. The rabbit Gustav caught the next night helped but sleeping on the ground left Avera’s body aching.

The only good thing? They made it to the foothills of Fraegus Spire without further mishap. Once there, gazing upon the mist-shrouded mountain, feeling the chill that swept from its peak, Avera knew only one thing for certain.

“We’re going to need warmer clothing.”

And that meant entering the town at the base of the spire.

Was it any wonder Gustav growled, “If anyone asks, my name is Loki. Avera, you’ll be my daughter, June. Josslyn, you’ll be my other daughter, Lynne.”

“Where are we from? Why are we travelling?” Josslyn asked as they laid the groundwork for their new identities.

“We’re headed for Cliff Haven to help my ailing sister. We were waylaid by brigands who stole our belongings.”

“But not our horses? Brigands would take those first,” Avera pointed out.

Gustav grimaced. “Very well, a fire by my clumsy youngest when making dinner took our wagon. We only escaped with our clothes and steeds. Is that better?”

“Yes. It will explain our stench. Do we have coin to pay, though?” Avera asked.

“Not much.” Gustav patted the pouch at his waist.

Josslyn tugged at his coat. “You can’t wear this.”

It led to Gustav looking at the badge sewn onto the breast of it. The royal crest of Daerva.

He sighed as he stripped it, leaving him only in his linen shirt. “Should have dumped it long before.” He carried it into the woods to hide it from casual eyes.

The ragtag trio made their way into the town only to realize they’d worried for naught.

No one asked them any questions because Herder’s Respite had been abandoned.