Home > The Blacksmith Queen (The Scarred Earth Saga #1)(16)

The Blacksmith Queen (The Scarred Earth Saga #1)(16)
Author: G.A. Aiken

She petted the head of her friend, whispered to her. “You poor thing. I don’t want to leave you.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to.”

Keeley frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“She wants revenge. Not just on the ones who killed her son, but on those who destroyed her life. She thinks you can give that to her.” Caid glanced at the mare. “She’s offering her services. As your war mount.”

Keeley looked over her shoulder at Beatrix. Her sister sat sidesaddle on a small mare. Back straight, brown hair reaching past her hips, already looking the part of a royal. She wasn’t exactly what Caid would call “pretty.” And there was something off about her. Something he felt was missing.

It didn’t matter, though, did it? She’d been chosen for a reason and, once she had the witches’ blessing, then war would come. There was no way around it. Not with the Old King’s sons fighting for that crown.

Keeley placed her hands on the gray mare’s massive jaw and lifted her head. “Ride with me into battle and I will do my best to give you the revenge you seek. Fair enough?”

The mare trotted over to the rest of the family, stopping in front of Keeley’s father.

Confused, Keeley looked up at him.

“Get your saddle,” Caid told her. “She’s waiting for you.”

* * *

Straton stared over the edge of the pit where a good number of his hired men and their horses had been burned alive.

“What kind of people are these?” his general demanded.

“Clearly not the kind we were expecting,” Straton remarked as he stepped away from the pit, unable to stand the smell another second.

“I thought these were farmers,” the general snapped at one of his men.

“They are.” Straton looked around at what remained of the family’s farm. “What annoys me is that I can’t even burn this place down out of spite. They’ve already done that.”

His general came to his side. “Prince Straton, I promise—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Straton cut in. “Just find them. Now.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“What if they split up?” another soldier asked.

“Track the girl,” he spit out. “We can kill her family at a later time. I need that girl dead. Don’t come back until she is.”

CHAPTER 7

The family traveled for three solid days, with Angus leading the way. Caid and his unit stayed in their natural forms and shadowed the family as they moved along.

The plan, as far as Caid knew from his sister, was to take the family someplace they deemed safe and then to take Beatrix to the witches for the confirmation.

Once she was consecrated as queen, the next steps would be decided by Beatrix herself. Until then, Laila was in charge. But she was letting the family believe otherwise. The situation was already tense. The first night had been hard, with the youngest children scared and crying. The older ones bickering and nervous, worried they were about to be attacked.

They weren’t. But Caid was sure they were being tracked. The second night, though, Caid and Farlan handled the two trackers the Devourer had sent out, burying their bodies deep so the next set of trackers wouldn’t be able to find them.

By the third night, they arrived at their destination: a castle complete with moat that was high on a hill with the sea at its back.

“You have royal friends?” Caid asked Keeley, who’d been surprisingly quiet the entire trip unless she was attempting to soothe her young siblings.

She laughed. The first he’d heard from her in days. “Hardly.”

Angus rode until he reached the moat; the metal gate was closed against any intruders.

“Oy!” he called up to the towers. “Archibald!”

They waited but no one came. Not surprising to Caid. Who knew where inside that castle this Archibald was? He could be asleep in his bed or the kitchens in the back of the castle.

“We could be here all night,” his sister complained to him.

She was right. They could easily be here all night. Longer if this Archibald was actually dead.

Angus glanced at his wife and, after a sigh, yelled out, “I know you see us, you bastard! Just open the fucking gate!”

He came out of the darkness. A giant of a man. Bigger than Angus, it seemed. Long red hair in a braid that hung over his massive shoulder, a steel helm with horns on his very large head, and what Caid could only call insane blue eyes gazing down at them.

“Good gods,” Laila muttered.

“Why should I let you in, you fucking bastard!”

“Because you owe me!”

“I owe you shit!”

Keeley and Gemma both rolled their eyes, and their heads fell back in irritation. For once, they looked alike; but they didn’t know it.

“You open this fucking gate, or I’ll tear it down with my bare hands!”

“Just try, you arrogant cunt!”

“That is it!” Emma bellowed. Her horse took her close to her husband. “Both of you stop this! Please!” She looked up at the giant man. “Hello, Archibald.”

“My dear sweet Emma?” The large man’s voice changed, and Caid cringed at the neediness in it. “Is that you?”

“Of course.”

“It’s been so long.”

“Oh, please,” Angus growled out.

Emma punched his shoulder before replying to Archibald, “Could you open the gate? For me? Please?”

“What about him?” Archibald snarled. “Am I safe?”

“No!” Angus snapped.

“Yes!” Emma said over her husband. “You have my word.”

Archibald took his time, but finally replied, “Fine.”

When he disappeared into the darkness again, Emma turned in her saddle to say to her husband, “Could you please stop being a horse’s ass?”

“He started it. He always starts it.”

“I don’t care who started what. I just want our children safe. Remember them? Your little bastards?”

“Of course I remember—”

“Then give me your word.”

“But—”

“Angus, I swear by all that is unholy—”

“Fine.” He cracked his neck and shoulders. “I will do my best not to remind him what a worthless cunt he is.”

“That’s all I ask.”

The drawbridge was slowly lowered and Caid couldn’t help but ask Keeley, “Is Archibald a royal?”

“Hardly,” she repeated.

“Then who is he?”

“Our uncle. My father’s brother.”

“They seem very angry at each other.”

“They are. They both wanted the same thing, but only one could get it.”

“Your mother?” he asked softly.

“No,” Keeley answered. “The family axe.”

“The . . . the family axe?”

“Uncle Archie got the axe. Then my father got my mother. And they’ve never let each other forget it.”

The drawbridge landed and the family rode across it, heading into the courtyard.

Caid and Laila held back a bit, making sure there was no one behind them. When they felt it was safe enough, they followed.

As they walked across, Caid said to his sister, “You know, the longer we know this family—”

“Yes. It’s true. Our kin is not nearly as insane as our father insists we are.”

* * *

Before her mother could dismount from her horse, Uncle Archie was there—his fierce helm tossed aside—wrapping his hands around her waist and lifting her down.

“My sweet, sweet Emma,” he growled, pulling her into his arms.

Keeley jumped off the gray mare and ran—literally ran—to her father’s side and grabbed his arm. Gemma grabbed the other, and it was only the raw strength of a blacksmith and a knight that kept him from beating their uncle to death.

Once Uncle Archie got their mum onto the ground, he moved his hand to her waist and led her toward the castle door.

“Come, my sweet Emma,” Archie urged. “I have a lovely axe to show you.”

That set their father into a tailspin of even more rage, but Keeley fought hard to keep him under control.

“Please, Da,” she begged. “We need him.”

“No, we don’t. I’ll kill him and this place will be ours as long as we like!”

“Daddy, that’s a horrible thing to say.” Gemma placed her hands on his chest and pushed their father back a few feet. “You need to find a way to get along with Uncle Archie.”

“I’d rather set us both on fire!”

“That’s enough, Da!” Keeley stood beside Gemma. “You two are brothers. You shouldn’t be doing all this ridiculous bickering over nothing.”

“She’s absolutely right, Daddy.”

Her father stared at her, stared at her sister, and then said, “Are you two fucking kidding me?”

* * *

Caid walked into the castle. It was the kind of place humans liked to live in. Made of stone with high ceilings but no matter how high they were, it didn’t change the fact that they were still trapped inside. Trapped like rats in a hole in the wall.

That was not for centaurs. They had tents. Some had yurts. They all had roofs, but they had roofs they could walk away from anytime they wanted. Anytime they needed. He couldn’t imagine living in one place without ever moving. Without ever venturing out far and wide.

But for what they needed right now . . . this place would do.

“Here it is,” Archibald was saying, pointing out an old, battered tree axe that was pinned to the stone wall above the big fireplace. “The family axe.”

Laila came from behind the big stairs that led to the upper floors. “There’s no one here,” she whispered.

Caid looked down at his sister.

“No one. I think he lives in this place alone.”

   
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