Home > The Blacksmith Queen (The Scarred Earth Saga #1)(11)

The Blacksmith Queen (The Scarred Earth Saga #1)(11)
Author: G.A. Aiken

“Your sister wasn’t at dinner tonight.”

“No.”

“Why?”

She stopped pacing, shrugged. “My sister was not in the mood to entertain strangers. No offense.”

“Was that it?” Because Caid understood. He didn’t like entertaining anyone either, much less strangers.

“She’s also not a fan of Gemma.”

“Because she’s a nun?” Caid asked, only slightly joking.

Keeley did manage to smile. “Shockingly, no. They’ve never gotten along, sadly.”

“For any particular reason?”

“I would say they have different views, but Beatrix keeps her views to herself. So they’ve never liked each other.”

“Do you like Beatrix?”

“She’s my sister!”

Caid frowned at that response. “I’m afraid that’s not really an answer.”

“We’re family. I love her.”

“I love my brother Quinn. I haven’t figured out if I like him, though. I love my sister, too, but I also like her because she doesn’t annoy me nearly as much as anyone else.”

“I do like Beatrix. She just doesn’t share much of herself with anyone. People who are introspective are like that sometimes. I don’t fault her for it.”

“But Gemma does fault her?”

“I don’t think so. She just doesn’t like her. And the feeling is mutual. But family is all. That’s what my father taught me. That’s what he taught each of us. But does it matter? Siblings don’t always get along.”

“I know,” Caid replied.

“But there’s a reason the witches have chosen her. Isn’t there?”

“We’d like to find that out. Laila would like to leave tomorrow with Beatrix, but I know she’ll understand if that’s not possible. No more than three days from now, though. Do you think you can manage that with your family?”

“Wait . . . you want to take my sister? Where?”

“To the Witches of Amhuinn. Once they meet Beatrix, they will confirm her future rule or deny it. We’re not a part of that. We’re only here to protect her.”

“But why? She won’t be your queen.”

Caid admitted the truth. “The Old King kept the truce between our lands. His sons will not. Everyone knows that.”

“If my sister goes with you . . . I go.”

He’d had a feeling that would be coming.

“But it will be up to my parents to decide if she goes anywhere.”

Caid nodded. “I’ll let Laila know.”

He turned to walk back to the stables, but Keeley’s voice stopped him.

“Before you go . . .”

“Yes?”

“I want to see you.”

Caid faced her again, knowing exactly what she’d meant. “No. You don’t.”

“I do.” She grinned. “I promise not to judge.”

“It’s not your judging that concerns me. All humans judge. But you don’t understand. I come from a protection clan. We do not work with gods or make spells. We protect our lands and our people. Meaning we don’t look like the other centaurs. We’re predators. Hunters. We kill and destroy.”

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to scare me or seduce me.” She shrugged. “Whatever. I want to see.”

* * *

The Amichai stared at her for a long time. So long, she feared he might have had a seizure.

“Are you all right?” she finally asked when the silence went on and on.

His gaze was locked on a spot behind her head and she wasn’t sure he was going to answer until he said, “I’m fine. Just . . . thinking about your response.”

Caid shook his head, took several steps back. “I’m . . . I’m . . . walking away from you now.”

“Will your sister show me?”

“Stop talking to me,” he ordered as he walked away. “And stop staring at my ass.”

“Just wondering how it looks with four legs.”

He stopped. Faced her. “What?”

“You know,” she admitted, “that sounded less . . . strange, in my head.”

“Did it? Really?”

CHAPTER 6

Gemma stared out the small front window at her father and sister. They’d been talking for long minutes this early morning as the suns just began to rise in the distance.

Her mother came to stand beside her, her youngest babe attached to her breast once again.

“Wonder what they’re talking about,” Gemma said, watching the pair closely.

“I’m sure they’re plotting our deaths.”

Gemma gasped and faced her mother, but she just laughed. “I’m joking! Does your god not allow joking?” she asked.

“Now you sound like Keeley.”

“Your sister is stubborn and opinionated. Just like you. You two must learn to work together. This is especially important to me,” her mother went on, “because I don’t want to have to hear your father complain that his beautiful daughters don’t get along. Gods, the whining.”

Gemma knew her mother was right, but still . . .

“You could tell her the truth,” her mother softly suggested. “Instead of all this lying.”

“I was going to. But then she brought her friends.”

“They seem nice enough.”

“Mum.”

“I hope it’s not that they’re Amichais that bothers you so much, my love. I expect better of you.”

“Amichais that come out of nowhere? Right to our door? You don’t think that’s strange?”

“I think all sorts of things are strange. Because they are strange. But strange doesn’t automatically mean evil and wrong.”

Gemma heard someone on the narrow steps that led to the upstairs bedrooms. She looked over her shoulder and finally saw Beatrix for the first time.

She wore a pale pink dress that must have cost her parents more money than they should have ever spent on one garment. She held several books in her hands and her dark hair was artfully braided and curled as it fell down her back.

“Sister,” Beatrix said.

Gemma nodded, not feeling in the mood to do more. She hadn’t slept all night, staying up to keep an eye on things. And when she was short on sleep, she could be quite cranky.

Without another word, Beatrix walked out the back door to find a tree to sit under where she could read. That’s all she did. Sit on the ground in her beautiful dresses and read, taking brief breaks for food and drink. Sometimes a nap. It was what she did before Gemma had left and it seemed that her lifestyle had not changed.

“Stop glaring.”

“I can’t believe you never forced her to do anything,” Gemma complained to her mother. “Keeley and I were up every day, before sunsrise, helping Da in the stables and out in the fields.”

“Your sister’s business is doing so well these days that on occasion we have stable hands and fieldworkers. So we don’t need to make your sisters and brothers do anything. And that’s what Beatrix does . . . nothing.”

“Shouldn’t you have made her do something? Anything?”

Her mother didn’t reply, but Gemma wasn’t exactly sure why. She didn’t see any shame on her mother’s face. Or resentment at Gemma’s chastisement. Her expression was carefully . . . blank.

Knowing not to push, Gemma instead asked, “Think Da likes Keeley more than me?”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you are still asking that question. Why are you still asking that question? Do you think your sister is asking your father that stupid question?”

* * *

“I think Mum likes Gemma better than me.”

“I’m not listening to this insanity again,” her father said, before kissing her forehead.

They’d had a long talk this morning and had decided on a course of action regarding Beatrix. Angus just had to convince his wife. A task that Keeley was grateful her father had insisted on doing. She’d been fearful she’d have to do it.

“Now, I’m going to get my day started,” he said, his big hand on her shoulder. “You help your mum and talk to the Amichais. You seem to have a nice rapport with them.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And stop worrying,” he said with a smile. “This will all work out.” He leaned in and whispered, “Just imagine. Us lot . . . royals!”

They both laughed and Keeley kissed her father’s cheek before sending him on his way. He was humming as he walked off because he was a man who loved his work. He loved his farm. There weren’t a lot of people in the world who were just happy with their lives as they were, but her father wanted nothing more from life than what he had.

Then again . . . neither did Keeley. Of course, if she was going to leave for a few weeks to protect her sister—or, at the very least, bring her home when it turned out she was not going to be anyone’s queen, something both Keeley and her father were starting to believe—she’d need to get things organized at her shop.

“Good morning, Sister,” Gemma said from behind her, making Keeley jump.

“Stop sneaking up on me!” she snapped.

“I wasn’t. I was just greeting you and attempting to be nice. I guess I shouldn’t have bothered.”

“Oh, stop with the pity.”

Gemma moved in front of her. “Pity? I never asked for your pity.”

“Then what do you want? Why are you even here?”

“What I do and why I do it is up to me,” Gemma said, stepping closer. “So perhaps you should mind your own business.”

“Ooooh,” Keeley mocked. “Listen to the fancy talk you’ve learned from your nuns. I’m surprised they let you speak at all!”

“Oy!” Keran barked at them from the far side of the house. “Are you two going to keep this bickering up? Can’t speak for your parents, but I’m tired of hearing it.”

   
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