Tranquility's Grief Page 11
Allric shouted, “Blessed Apexia, we mourn the loss of Torius son of Lister. Our High Priest, our mentor, our friend.” Allric’s voice cracked. “Soothe our hearts and our minds as we grieve.”
Jovan shouted, though his voice also cracked. “Blessed Apexia, we mourn the loss of Drea, daughter of Apexia. Our sister, our friend. Soothe our hearts and our minds as we grieve.”
Aneese spoke. “May the Goddess receive their spirits.”
Bethany choked, hearing the whispers of Sarissa’s threats. Could her sister claim the spirits of the dead?
Aneese cleared her throat, shaking Bethany from her thoughts. Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, Bethany said, “May the Goddess cleanse their spirits.”
Jovan said, “May the Goddess recite their names on the whispers of the wind.”
Together the crowd chanted, “Holy is the will of Apexia.”
Bethany stood back as the bearers raised the wooden pyre structures on the beach, where the boulders from the temple had not fallen. For her, grief merely assisted to fuel her battle rage. It was a useful tool, so she balled it up and kept it close to her heart where she could find it when most needed.
Bethany walked to Torius’s pyre and recited the words of the Silver Knights. “Protection in peace. Triumph in war. Duty in death. Your brothers and sisters will remember your glory.”
Once the bodies were set, Aneese recited the final prayers as people whispered their good-byes to the dead. Lendra leaned on Kiner, who wrapped his dark arms around her. He looked at Bethany and offered a supportive smile. It did not sting that her sister did not turn to her. They barely knew each other. And, well, she had a sweetheart’s eye on Kiner. Eve stood with her arm around Jovan’s waist. Amber rested her head in Allric’s broad chest. Indeed, everyone had someone. Everyone but her.
She didn’t need anyone. She had revenge and rage and hate to comfort her through a march north. Because north was where she was heading, even if none of them knew it yet.
As the bodies of her father and her sister burned, Bethany refused to say good-bye. She would say it only when she saw the release of their spirits and the burning of every person connected to their deaths.
Only then would they rest in peace.
Chapter Fourteen
Many will walk. Few will finish. The path is a difficult one.
-Prophecy of the Diamond, Second Tablet
Arrago sat at a rectangular table in an abandoned smoke shack with Edmund, Father Weiler, and fourteen members of the Apexian Order. They could only have a short rest before more soldiers arrived. The priests shared their meal of meat pies with Arrago and Edmund that they’d purchased from the local market before the soldiers found them.
Arrago broke off pieces of his pie and listened to the words of the men and women around him, though he did not comprehend. More accurately, he didn’t want to understand.
“All I want is to leave Taftlin,” Arrago repeated for the third time.
Father Weiler shook his head. “Boy, you cannot cross the border. The entire country is sealed off by a Magical ward. Unless you can practice Magic yourself, you cannot leave.”
“Father, I don’t want to have anything to do with a revolt against King Daniel.” He held up his hand to stop the priest’s protests. “I just want to live in peace. If I can’t do that in Taftlin, I’ll go somewhere else.”
“Word of you standing up to the King is spreading. The common person doesn’t care about Magic or kings. They want to know they aren’t going to starve this winter. And what is Daniel doing?” The priest crossed his arms. “Invading the Rygents. Calling up Magi. This is not what this country wants.”
“This country sure doesn’t want the likes of me stirring up trouble, either,” Arrago snorted.
Father Weiler remained silent for a moment before saying in a calm voice, “This country needs one of their own to fight under. Mark my words, Arrago, you’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest that has been causing trouble for far too long. See it through.”
“I am no mercenary.”
Silence fell over the room. Arrago shifted uncomfortable in his seat. He looked to Edmund for support, but found none. Edmund stared at his mug, not meeting Arrago’s gaze.
“Apexia buggered this mess,” Arrago muttered and then laughed. “Edmund, you’re a bad influence on me.”
His friend looked up and offered a forced smile. “Do you want my advice?”
Arrago nodded, even if he feared what the answer would be.
“We’re stuck in Taftlin with the entire bloody army after us. It’s time we fight back.”
“We have been fighting back!” Arrago slammed his hand on the table. Embarrassment filled him, but he set it aside.
“We’re fighting back while running away.”
“I’m not afraid to fight,” Arrago said. Though the nightmares plagued him, he knew he could continue doing it for his own survival. “That isn’t my problem.”
“Then what is?” Father Weiler asked.
“I don’t want to lead people.” Arrago let out a slow, long breath. “I just want to follow.”
“In the immortal words of Lady Champion Bethany,” Edmund said, standing. “Too fucking bad.”
****
Head held high and lacking a bottle on her person, Bethany marched into Aneese’s study. The study also served as a candle storeroom, so the pungent mix of tallow and scented beeswax assaulted her nose and she sneezed
“Out,” she ordered to the servants and scribes who huddled around the priestess’ desk.
The four who’d been at the desk stopped their work and looked up at Bethany, then back to Aneese. Aneese bowed her head and the quartet gathered their baskets and bundles of letters and scurried out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
“Can I assist you?” Aneese asked, her rheumy eyes narrowed.
“Mother Aneese,” the words tasted like sour fruit and Bethany pushed her pride aside, “I require your help.”
Aneese sat straighter in her chair, though she winced at the movement. Bethany also winced, sympathetic to the old woman’s poorly-mended hip and ever-present aches of age. “You have never referred to me by my station.”
“I really need your help.”
Aneese placed her quill down, careful not to splatter ink on the paper. “You have never needed nor wanted my help before.”
“You can then imagine how badly I’m in need of it.”
Aneese sat rigid for a moment longer before relaxing her muscles. “Be a good girl and bring me a pot of lemon tea. Then I’ll try to forget all of the times you’ve refused to help me.”
Bethany cleared her throat as she bristled at the “good girl” words that slipped off the old hag’s tongue like poison.
Poison.
She tipped her head in obedience. She needed the new High Priestess’s help and Allric frowned on executing members of the clergy. Bethany would have her way. She would use every tool available to her, even her lineage.
The time to hide was over.
Chapter Fifteen
The cries of the innocent will echo in her mind.
-Aleu’s “The Agony of the Diamond”
Four uneventful days passed before the note came. Dawn streaked the horizon red. Bethany rubbed the back of her neck as she lay on her bed roll, still unable to sleep. One day, she would rest again and would embrace happiness. Not yet, though. Not now. There was too much at stake, too much hanging in the balance. Too much to atone.
“Lady Bethany?” The servant whispered, leaning over her section of limbs and blankets that made up part of the senior Knights. “Are you awake?”
She grunted in reply.
“Urgent missive from Mother Aneese.”
Bethany didn’t look at the boy. She merely held out her hand. He put the folded note parchment in her hand and held out the dimmed lamp for light. She opened the note.
Tradition is on your side. I will support you. Do not make me regret it.
A
Kiner shifted with a moan, grabbing her pillow and pulling it close to him. She didn’t move, not wanting to wake him. Not yet. He settled down and she went back to dressing. Bethany slipped her leather vest over her mail and tugged on her back scabbards and Blessed Blades. She tugged the too-big leather trousers over the padded cotton ones she wore in bed.
Then, Bethany surveyed her troops.
Snoring soldiers littered the courtyard, huddle together under blankets. There was no room inside the temple for everyone and none would sleep in the few rooms safe enough to be in. Not when there were old priestesses, monks, children, and civilians still out in the rain. Even Allric slept on the ground.
They’d given their tents to the civilians and the soldiers. As she approached the edge of the courtyard, a loud, unmistakable snore came from a pile of blankets against the stone wall. Her muscles clenched. Adversity helped hardened them, but it could also reduce discipline if the leaders were not vigilant.
And she had not been vigilant.
Intellectually, Bethany knew that it was more than just her failings that caused the decline. They were at war and not allowed to fight because of short-sighted, lily-stomached politicians back in Wyllow. The politicians had not watched their friends and families die beside them, the way her troops had. The laws prevented them from fighting back against those who had destroyed their lives. They had been rotting in grief for months without even facing their enemy.
Intellectual anything wasn’t what she needed at the moment. Bethany let her inner voice’s taunts fueled her rising anger. Anger had always come so easy to her; she had so much of it inside her, boiling, festering, wanting to explode. It was her shield from the world. For her plan to succeed, she would need that angry spirit to possess her once more.
Bethany approached the guard, who snored contently. She envied his sleep. It would be a long time before she got to sleep again.
“Oh well,” she said, aloud and drove the toe of her boot into the sleeping guard’s ribs. Hard.
The man shrieked in both surprise and agony. Clutching his ribs, he grabbed his sword from the ground. “Fucking whore,” he shouted and swung clumsily at her, still slowed by the deep sleep he had been in.
Bethany easily dodged the drunken swing and grabbed his sword hand’s wrist. Using her other hand, she slammed her fist into his nose. Blood bubbled and drained from the man’s nose and he stumbled backwards, falling to the ground. Heavy footsteps thumped behind her. The other guards must have heard the exchange. She turned around to seven heavy-breathing soldiers – little more than children – holding out their swords.
“Good. At least someone isn’t asleep,” she said with a smile.
“Uh, Lady Bethany,” the bleeding guard stuttered. He struggled to stand upright, even as blood clotted over his nostrils. “Forgive me. I didn’t see you proper. I thought you were an intruder.”
She stepped closer to him until she could smell last night’s garlic soup on his breath and see the fear in his eyes. She resisted a smile. Drunkard or not, she still held their collective privates in her fist. Without saying a word, she turned and faced down the other night watch guards, who shuffled out of her way. Through the sketches of morning light Bethany could see enough of the mess of the courtyard. Waste piled along the edges. The outhouses stank. The drinking water was still polluted and they kept getting the bowel runs, which just repeated the entire process.
None of this was any one person’s fault. There was just too little space and too many people. Still, she blamed herself for her portion of allowing entropy to have taken a hold of them.
“Lack of discipline,” she said. “I take full responsibility for it.” She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, there is only one cure for that.” Bethany inhaled a deep breath and shouted at the top of her lungs, “Wake up! On your feet, you lazy bastards!” Bethany began kicking bare feet and crumpled bodies under blankets. “Up! Up! Get up now!”
Moans and groans sounded around her.
“If I was a Magi, you would all be dead right now. UP! UP! UP! You filthy pieces of gutter shit, up!”
The more seasoned Knights and regular soldiers jumped to their feet, some stark naked, their clothes with the overnight laundresses. Nevertheless, they roused those around them. Bethany grabbed a soup pot from near a fire pit and a rock. She clanged the two together, the tinny vibrations sending chills through even her own spine.
She saw Kiner’s dark skin ahead. He didn’t bother throwing on a tunic. Instead, he grabbed a sword and kicked those around him, joining in the shouting that overtook the courtyard. Jovan lounged on his bedroll, while Eve fussed with trousers. Bethany gave her a quick nod. “Eve, find Erem and Aneese. Get them to Allric’s study. Kiner, get Lendra and Amber to Allric’s study. Jovan, get Jud there for me.”
Jovan yawned. “I don’t see a fire.”
Bethany took a long, deep breath. If she was to pull this off, she needed to start now. “Lord Jovan, I am the daughter of Apexia. You will stand when I speak to you and you will do as I order!”
Stunned silence swept over the pandemonium close enough to hear her words. Jovan stared at her, his mouth hanging open. She shrugged and mouthed, “Please?”
Jovan scowled, but got out of the bed. “You’ll be explaining this later.”
Jackson arrived, out of breath and reeking of cheap drink. She wondered why everyone was out of breath these days. Then, she recalled that even she was getting winded climbing the stairs lately. Time for drills.
“Jackson, I want this courtyard spotless by the time I leave Allric’s study this morning, is that understood?”
The man swayed. Bethany feared she’d have to catch him, but he nodded. He gagged and swallowed hard. She cringed at the look on his face; she was certain he had just vomited in his own mouth.
“Mind telling me what’s going on?” Allric asked as he stepped in next to her. He tugged a tunic over his head.
Bethany caught a glimpse of Amber’s flushed face as she stared at Allric’s muscular chest. “Creepy,” she said.
“Hmm?” Allric asked, lacing up his tunic’s neckline.
Bethany shook her head. “Never mind. Meet me in your study and I’ll fill you in on the plan.”
He scowled at her. “Was kicking my shins part of your plan?”
Bethany cocked an eyebrow. “I could have kicked higher.”
Allric shot her a look of shock, which quickly morphed into a brighter expression. He leaned closer to her, as they walked towards the massing troops. “Welcome back.”
She only smiled. No, the old Bethany was not back. She was gone. This was a new Bethany.
And she had a plan that they would all hate.
Chapter Sixteen
She will see the world in its chaos and will know that her path is righteous.
-The Prophecy of the Diamond, First Tablet
Bethany stood against a wall of crates and waited. Beyond the blanket walls, she could hear the shouts and curses of soldiers cleaning the courtyard. The responsibility for looking after discipline was not only her domain, but she took her share of the consequences. Allric had been busy with troop movements, paperwork to the Elven Council, and overseeing an army in the midst of a war that they weren’t allowed to actually fight. Jovan had been carrying the heavy work, often out in the field, purging pockets of Magi.
What had she been doing? Surveying a wasteland. Watching people dig ditches. Drinking. Whining.
Aneese finally arrived. Bethany could not have acted without Aneese’s support. Torius would never have allowed this, but none of this would have been necessary if Torius was still alive.
Torius.
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Her father.
A chill spread through her bones.
Mother, why didn’t you tell me?
Soon, she would have a chat with her mother. Not now, though. She did not have the patience for Apexia. No, she had anger, an emotion she understood and could harness.
“Good morning, everyone,” Bethany said once Aneese had been settled into a chair. Around the stable, Jovan, Eve, Kiner, Erem, Jud, and Allric stood. Aneese, Lendra, and Amber sat. Their faces betrayed confusion, anticipation, excitement, and in the case of Jud, disgust.
There was no time for preamble, so she jumped to the root of the issue. “The Elven Council has refused to allow the Silver Knights to move north and attack King Daniel’s Magi. They feel we should use diplomacy.” Bethany took a deep breath. “I disagree.”
“We all do,” Allric said, spreading his hands. “We are subject to their rule, however.”
Bethany glanced at Aneese, who nodded once to her. Shivers of anticipation ran through her and she could not help one side of her mouth curling. “No longer.”
For anyone else to speak those two simple words, it would have been treason, a betrayal of her oath as a Knight.
“Bethany,” Allric said, warning in his voice, “you cannot mean that.”
“I do.”
“Lady Bethany,” Jud said, his voice very weak, “I will not stand by and listen—”
“Shut up, Jud,” Bethany barked. She raised her voice, not to shouting, but enough that her words would be clear and understood. “As of this moment, I am taking command of the Silver Knights. As the eldest daughter of Apexia, I can lead us into battle during a holy war. Torius declared this a holy war. “
Comprehension dawned on the faces of the Knights. Amber and Lendra shared a look of confusion, but neither spoke.
“No one but Apexia can stop me,” Bethany said and looked straight at Aneese.