Cara's Twelve (6 page)

Turning, she addressed Finn, Hauk and Batch. “What I am about to do will put anyone who follows in danger. Walk away now and I won't blame you.”

She held Finn's gaze. He didn't flinch or hesitate. “My life and sword are yours.”

“As are mine,” Hauk agreed.

Behind him Batch stammered weakly, “and mine.”

Maeve whimpered in Reyn's arms and her eyes fluttered open. “Reyn,” she rasped, looking up at him.

Reyn voice was hoarse when he spoke. “We're getting you out of here. Taking you somewhere safe. I promise I won't let you go.”

Maeve licked her dry lips and tried to speak. “Cara,” she hissed in pain, and a cold sweat broke out on her brow.

“I'm here. Just hold on a little longer.”

Cara saw the doubt in her eyes.

“It hurts so much.” It was the last thing she said before her eyes rolled back in her head and she began seizing.

“Maeve!” It was Reyn's shredded cry that broke the silence.

He held her tight against his chest, begging her to live, as her body convulsed against him.

When her body went still, Cara held her breath, as Reyn placed his fingers on the side of her neck searching for a heartbeat.

“She's alive. Just unconscious,” he said weakly.

Cara expelled the air she had been holding in.

Pushing himself off the dirty floor, he supported Maeve's body easily. His eyes were filled with a darkness she had never seen in him.

No one spoke as they left the dungeon.

Whether Maeve survived or not, one thing was certain - Cara would make sure that after tonight, all of Elbia would know what a heartless bitch the Queen truly was.

* * *

“Silence,” Cara bellowed as she entered the great hall. She barely recognized her own voice as it echoed like thunder throughout the room.

The music stopped abruptly, and voices quieted as all eyes focused on her.

“What's the meaning of this?” Birkita stood and raked Cara with a look of disdain and disbelief. Her eyes blazed in furry.

Cara's heart was racing wildly in her chest as she walked to the center of the room. “How could you do it? What evil lives inside a woman who would abuse and torture an innocent child?”

Cara heard the gasps and whispers around her, and she saw the apprehension in the queen's expression before it once again hardened and turned on her.

“Guards!” The queen's voice was dark and dangerous. “Take her to her chambers and make sure she doesn't leave without my permission.”

Helfrich had joined Finn, Hauk and Batch behind her, and as the guards approached, each man unsheathed their weapon and created a barricade around her.

“Am I to share the same fate as Maeve?” Cara taunted. “Shall I be tortured and abused in the dungeons like a common criminal?”

“What is she talking about?” the king asked in alarm, rising to stand before his wife.

Cara stared in disbelief as she saw the look of confusion on his face. He hadn't known what his wife had done.

She prayed her cousin would forgive her for what she was about to do.

“Reyn,” Cara beckoned, and pointed towards the entrance. “See what the Queen would do to her own daughter for nothing more than refusing to enter into her scheme to keep the crown for herself. She has tortured and murdered her child.”

“Lies,” the Queen shrieked. “Guards, arrest her!”

The guards moved to attack.

Cara knew the moment Reyn entered the hall. The room went completely still as all eyes shifted to the naked and mutilated body he carried.

One by one people began weeping and wailing as they realized that the shredded piece of flesh was their gentle and beloved princess.

The king's face went ashen and he stared aghast at his wife, “What have you done?”

Birkita fell back as if he had slapped her, and Cara saw the feral desperation in her eyes as she assessed the situation.

“Stand down,” the king ordered the guards.

He pushed his way through the crowd and crumpled to his knees in front of Reyn, and let out a howl of anguish that silenced the room.

“My beautiful girl. What has she done?”

Reyn looked at Cara and nodded, letting her know that Maeve still breathed, even though she appeared lifeless to everyone watching. Cara needed them to keep believing the deception.  

Cara swallowed past the lump in her throat as she watched the king rise, and place his hand on his daughter's cheek. His shoulders were slumped in defeat as he turned and walked towards her.

“Guards. Arrest them. What are you waiting for——” The Queen's shrill voice demanded.

“I said stand down!” The look the king gave her was withering, and his voice was hard as steel as he cut off her words. “Silence or I will expose all of your crimes here and now.”

“If you expose me, you expose yourself.” The Queen's face was distorted in rage.

“So be it. You have taken from me the only thing that truly mattered. What else do I have to lose? Now sit down and be silent!”

The Queen recoiled at his words. Unsteadily she retreated.

The king let out a pitiful sound and drew in a shaky breath. The guards retreated and her men allowed the king to stand before her. He stared down at her, with dark brown eyes rimmed with unconcealed anguish.

Cara's heart broke for him, but there was a part of her that blamed him for not protecting Maeve. How had he not known the abuse she suffered? Or the evil that resided in his wife's heart? She could see the guilt in his expression, and knew that he blamed himself in part for Maeve's suffering and death. Just as she blamed herself for not saving her sooner.

The room was silent now, except for a few muffled cries.

The king's expression was haunted when he finally asked, “What would you have me do?”

Cara raised her eyebrows and blinked at the unexpected question. She hadn't imagined they would be allowed to leave so easily.

She searched his face for guile, but found only remorse.

Biting her lip, Cara glanced quickly at Finn and then at Helfrich. In all honesty, she hadn't believed any of them would leave the palace alive. Now the king was asking her stipulations. It was too much to process.

“We leave tonight.” It was the only thing she was sure of. She wouldn't give the Queen any chance to take revenge, and they needed to get Maeve somewhere safe before anyone noticed that she still lived.

The king nodded in agreement.

“I would have your word that there will be no retaliation from the Queen's guards, your men, or the council. That I will be allowed to commence the tour in peace and…” She hesitated before adding, “The Queen will denounce her crown and leave Elbia immediately.”

The Queen jumped at that. “You think you can exile me?” she mocked.

Cara turned and stared with quiet resolve. “It would not be my first choice, but I will not have your blood on my hands.”

“It will be done.” The king's voice was defeated.

The Queen shrieked in anger, “I am the Queen! You are nothing but a worthless Crow bastard. A fraud. I will have your head for this. You are no daughter of mine, and I will make sure you never wear the crown.”

“You are right. I'm not your daughter. Your daughter lies dead by your own hands.”

“Enough! Guards,” the king ordered. “Escort the Queen to her chambers and see she remains under close watch.”

She struggled against the guards, and ranted and raved, threatening retribution. “You have my word that your conditions will be met,” the king said, grasping her hand and holding it gently. “I pray to Annul that by some measure you will be able to heal the damages I have allowed my wife to commit.”

He dropped her hand and turned to leave.

Cara hesitated before asking. “I have one last request.”

“Ask.”

“We will take Maeve's body with us.” It was a dangerous question. She risked alerting him to the knowledge that Maeve still lived. “I would have her buried with my mother.”

He shook his head, confused by her request, and Cara watched as denial turned to hope as he glanced at Maeve's broken body.

“I will allow it.” The king bowed his head. “Can I ask you for one thing?”

Cara hesitated and nodded.

“I would send a handful of my men with you. For your protection,” Cara was about to deny him when he added, “My personal physician would be among them. He is trustworthy, and he would be of great service if anyone should fall ill during your journey.”

He knew Maeve still lived.

The hope in his eyes nearly crushed her.

It was a dangerous game she played, and she prayed he wouldn't betray them.

“That would be very useful. Thank you.”

His voice was a whisper, and she barely heard his response as she turned to leave. “Keep her safe.”

Finn frowned as he looked down at the map of the province of Lydd that Cush had drawn in the dirt.

“There's a small town with an inn about an hour's ride from here,” Cush offered, using a stick to outline its location and the route they would take. “If we left now we could make it there before sundown.”

“No,” Cara stated abruptly, shaking her head. “We have to keep going.”

Finn followed after her as she turned from them and walked to the covered carriage where Maeve rested. The anguished sobs had ceased for the moment, but he knew they would start again soon. She never rested for long before the pain ceased her. The king's physician had controlled her fever, but he had been unsuccessful in reducing her pain, and her cries had haunted them all over the last couple of days.

Finn placed a hand on Cara's shoulder. She flinched before relaxing under his touch, and leaned back to rest against his chest. He sensed that she was beginning to trust him, and he didn't to do anything to break the fragile bond that had formed between them. But she wasn't thinking straight and someone had to talk sense into her.

He spoke softly, “We can't continue like this. We are going to have to stop somewhere.”

Along with the king's physician, the only assistance Cara had accepted when they left the city was the carriage that carried Maeve and the horses that they rode.

They were paying the price now for their hasty departure and lack of preparation.

“We can't risk it,” Cara said, turning to look at him, dark brown eyes pleading.

He raked a hand through his hair and blew out a frustrated breath. They were only two days of a journey past the borders of Lydd, and already their food supplies were dangerously low.

“Cara, listen to me. I know you are trying to protect Maeve. We all are, but we barely have any food left. No tents. No extra clothing. We're completely vulnerable out here.”

“We would be more than well-equipped if the princess hadn't refused the king's supplies,” Edmund scoffed, walking around the carriage. He looked down at Cush's map, and kicked at the dirt. “Are we supposed to cross the entire country with just the clothes on our back? Is this…” he gestured wildly around him, “your plan? Not very smart thinking princess.”

Cara narrowed her gaze at his insult. “We can restock and get everything we need once we reach Crowthorne.”

Edmund threw his hands in the air. “You're insane,” he said through gritted teeth. “We'll all be dead of starvation before then!”

Finn took her small hands in his and waited until she looked up at him. Her face was pale from worry, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She was still beautiful, but she looked so tired and weak, and he wanted to wrap her in his arms and take her pain away. He understood her fears, and her desire to safeguard her cousin, but it was his responsibility to take care of
her.
“Edmund's right. It will take at least three weeks to reach the Crowthornian borders. If we push through, we can make the capital of Lydd in two days. Either way, we need food and fresh water now.”

“And take the chance of exposing Maeve? We can't risk anyone else knowing that she lives. It's bad enough that he knows” Cara said, glaring at Edmund accusingly.

“Kind of hard not to know when the corpse won't shut up!” Edmund snarled.

Finn had to hold her back from going after him.

“I'm sorry her suffering annoys you,” Cara lashed out. “If you don't want to be here then leave.”

“Trust me princess, I wouldn't think of leaving you.” Edmund's eye's turned dark and something passed between them that Finn didn't understand.

“Edmund,” Finn said, breaking the tension. “Take Cush and round up the men. We'll leave shortly.”

Edmund smirked at her before he turned to go.

Cara jerked her hands free of Finn's. “It's not your call to make.”

“I'm making it my call. It's my responsibility to keep you safe, even if that means protecting you from yourself.”

She gaped at him. “But Maeve——”

“Won't survive the journey unless she has time to rest and heal,” he responded gently, frying to hide his frustration, and pulling her back to him.

He saw the struggle in her eyes and the moment when she conceded. Her expression was uncertain and unhappy. He knew he had bruised her ego by taking control of the situation, but it had to be done.

Her lips quivered and she exhaled unevenly.

“Ride with me?” he asked hopefully, wanting to feel her against him longer than just these short moments. His body ached to touch her, to feel her hands on his body. He knew she felt it to. He had seen it in her eyes the night he kissed her. Even now, despite her frustration, he could feel her body moulding his, and could sense the same burning in her eyes. “You're exhausted, and you can barely stand. Rest on me while we ride the short distance to the inn.”

She shook her head, and looked away.  

She was bullheaded, and he knew she would be angry at him until she realized he was right. He closed his eyes and breathed in her warm feminine scent. He cupped the back of her neck, placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, and released her.

Tonight they would have a good meal and sleep under a roof, in a real bed, and tomorrow she would forgive him.

* * *

Cara watched as the men inhaled the stew and bread the innkeeper had served. She glared at Efy and Cush as they accepted another pint of ale from the tavern wench. Their laughter was a shrill sound to her ears.

How dare they enjoy themselves.

Her stomach cramped in hunger at the smells, but she would be damned if she would enjoy the luxury of a hot meal while her cousin suffered in the confines of a carriage they had left on the outskirts of the village.

She sat silently by the fire and crossed her arms, ignoring Helfrich as he approached.

“You have to eat something,” he said, offering her a bowl.

She shook her head stubbornly and glowered at the flames. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back.

He kneeled down beside her and placed the bowl in her lap and handed her a piece of bread.

She was getting sick of them telling her what to do. First Edmund, then Finn, and now Helfrich.

She took the bread roughly from his hand and glared at him.

“Eat,” he said patting her arm and standing up. “Once you're finished, I've had a room and bath prepared for you.”

“I won't——”

“Maeve is safe. Reyn is with her and Finn has taken them food. If you want to help her then you need to eat and rest. She wouldn't want you starving yourself because of her.”

He walked away before she could protest further.

She scowled at the food.

Her mouth watered and she fought the temptation to eat, but she had starved herself for too many days, and her stomach eventually won over her mind.

Dipping the bread in the stew she ate, and when she was finished, she yawned and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. She had barely slept since they had left the palace, and the lack of sleep was finally catching up with her.

Resting her head on the back of the chair, she closed her eyes and let the darkness consume her.

* * *

Tahdaon stalked towards the fire and looked down at the woman he had sworn to both hate and protect. He was damned if he would let this royal brat mess with his plans. But he had made a vow that secured his life to hers, and unlike the cowards who would hide behind their money and power, he never broke his word.

He had been furious when the council had named him one of the Twelve, but his brothers had seen it as an advantage. He would be their eyes and ears to the functions of the court and the changing moods of the southern provinces.

The north would have their independence, and Tahdaon would use his new position to secure it.

It had been over thirty years since the province of Dalgliesh had a representative among the Twelve. The man had suffered an unfortunate accident during the Queen's tour that had left him with a fatal injury. There had been rumors that the accident had been an assassination attempt, but there had never been any conclusive evidence to support the claim. One thing was certain, Tahdaon would make sure that he didn't share the man's fate. If life had taught him anything, it was to trust no one, especially none of the pompous aristocratic pricks he was travelling with.

He frowned as he looked down at the girl he had unwillingly merged his life with. She sat slouched, eyes closed, unmoving, her long dark braid falling over the well-defined curve of her breast.

He sighed and searched the room. The men were in deep conversations, and no one other than him seemed to notice she had fallen asleep in an uncomfortable wooden chair, her neck twisted in a painful position.

He cursed under his breath. He should let Finn or Helfrich deal with her. Both men had seemed to have put a claim on her.

Tahdaon didn't care; they could have her, but right now Finn wasn't there and Helfrich looked like he would collapse under her weight.

Sighing in resignation, he placed one arm under her shoulder and the other under her legs. Picking her up, he marvelled at how little she weighed. Compared to his tall, well-muscled mother and sister, the girl felt insubstantial and frail. The women of Dalgliesh were born and bred to be warriors, and their bodies were well-toned weapons. This girl held none of the hardness of his people, but her slight build was a stark comparison to her stubborn temperament.

A soft moan escaped her lips as he shifted her in his arms.

“Finn,” she whispered, placing a hand on his chest.

Her touch sent a shock of heat to his groin and he cursed. It had been too long since he had been with a woman, and he pushed back the desire that laced through him.

“No, it's me,” he growled. Of course she thought he was Finn. Neither of them had done a good job at hiding their attraction for each other.

She blinked and looked up with startled eyes.

“You fell asleep by the fire. I'm taking you to your room.”

“I can walk,” she protested weakly, resting her head back against his chest.

He grunted and moved to the stairs.

She was asleep again when he reached the room she had been assigned. They had been fools to allow her to push herself so hard. For two days straight she had ridden as hard as any of the men, and had refused to eat the limited rations they had brought. He had been relieved when she had accepted the food Helfrich had given her. He knew it had been the first substantial thing she had eaten in days.

He admired her strength and the loyalty she had shown to her cousin, but she was wracking herself with guilt. It was an emotion he was well acquainted with, and he knew the destruction it could cause on one's soul.

Laying her down on the hard mattress, he removed her shoes, and placed a blanket over her.

Moonlight lit the room, spilling over her delicate features.

She had crushed him the night of the dedication. The kindness she had showed him had almost broken his resolve, and he knew he needed to distance himself emotionally from her if he was going to be able to accomplish his goals.

Damn if he was able to though. She was a paradox. Fierce and gentle. Fragile, and yet as strong in spirit as any Dalglieshan warrior.

He had been awed by her bravery as she stood unflinching before the Queen. She had earned his respect in that moment. If she didn't represent everything he hated about the southern provinces and the monarchy, he thought that he could learn to care for her.

Don't be fool, Tahdaon.

It was dangerous to even think about the possibility. She was his enemy. The enemy of Dalgliesh. He couldn't allow emotions to get involved.

He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. She had risked a great deal to save her cousin, and he wondered what she would be willing to sacrifice to save herself.

Change was coming and those who refused to adjust would fall.   

He would honor the vows he had made to her, and no matter what befell Elbia, he would keep her safe, but that was all he was able to offer her.

She stirred under the covers and he left the room before she woke and found him watching her.

Helfrich was waiting for him in the hall.

The man was as obsessed with her as Finn.

“I didn't touch her,” Tahdaon growled, not knowing why he felt the need to explain himself. “She fell asleep and I brought her to her room.”

Helfrich leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Despite what you believe, I'm not your enemy and neither is she.”

Tahdaon gave a disbelieving snort and pushed past him. Anyone who fought against the independence of Dalgliesh was his enemy.