Page 134 of Settle Down, Princess

Let our enemies’ leaders see this. Not reports of weaknesses in our borders, but a mark of our strength. There was a reason why they never bothered pitting themselves against us before this and they obviously needed reminding of it. As I watched the raven take flight, I hoped they’d understand the folly of taking us on.

“So what do we do?” the garrison commander asked in a low voice as I approached. “We humans are being forced to remain here, but we have no hope of holding the place…” He blinked and then offered me his hand. “Not without your help.”

I just stared at his offer, wanting to take it, while knowing I couldn’t.

“People are saying that more and more raids are happening across the borders,” the woman who had fought by my side said. She jiggled her child on her hip, trying to soothe its low cries. “We’re not safe here anymore.”

“The humans need to understand the importance of the compact,” Harrow, one of the wolf shifters said, looking out over the heads of everyone. “We are all one pack. Your land is our land…” There was a bit of restive muttering at that. “And we need to work together to protect it.”

“But we can’t right now.” Those words felt like ashes in my mouth. “The trust is broken.” I stared into the bloodied and begrimed faces of the villagers. “You should be able to rely on our support to keep you safe, but your king has taken that away from us. Our packlands are sacrosanct. No one comes in or out, not even the king, without explicit permission of our elders, but King Magnus disregarded this. All for a princess he doesn’t want, that he intends to slaughter as those enemy soldiers intended to do your women folk.”

I couldn’t read the crowd. Whatever ability had been riding me during the fight was ebbing away now, leaving just me. Away from my pack, aching for the lack of them, of her. What was happening to Jessalyn? I had to hope the others had her safe, but not knowing threatened to drop me to my knees.

“We can’t help keep your family safe,” I said finally, “when the king threatens ours.”

“Bloody bastard king…” The woman who held her child spat in the dirt, but others murmured in response. “Don’t pretend he’s not. Locked away in his fancy arse palace, far away from the border, you can bet he isn’t having his fields burned to the ground…” She seemed to see the devastation for the first time, all the steel going out of her spine. “There’s nothing left for us here.”

“Now, Nora—”

“There’s not. The land is good and the crops we grow are healthy and strong, but we can’t do much when raiders come over the border.”

“Winter’s coming.” A grizzled old man looked at the fields and shook his head slowly. “Not enough food left and no time to grow more. Then there’s the houses.”

“Maybe we could rebuild—” another said.

“And for what?” A young man with a seeping wound in his side said. “For the fucking Mattenites to just wander across the border and set fire to that whenever it pleases them?” He shook his head. “We’re not safe here.” His focus shifted to me; keen eyes boring into mine. “And you aren’t either. If not even the wolf shifters are safe, then how will we ever be?”

People were talking, talking, the voices all getting louder and louder, but I couldn’t hear them. I just stared at the chaos, as everyone argued amongst themselves, until I gave them the only answer I knew.

“The Bastard Prince.”

“What?” The garrison commander stared at me, but the villagers seemed to perk up at that.

“The king’s true-born son,” the woman said, “at least that’s what they say. The current king is the boy whelped by the bitch queen after riding the old king’s knights.”

“He and that band of his cut down a whole battalion of Lanzene warriors at the Battle of Nairne,” one man said excitedly.

That’s not what actually happened, but the stories seemed to grow and grow with each telling.

“Didn’t they assassinate one of the Mattenite high command in his bed, sneaking out before the dawn rose, and leaving him lying in his bed, his head never to be found?”

“We left his head there.” Everyone turned to face me. “And it wasn’t that high a ranked officer. He had the command of the border garrisons, but—”

“You’re him.” The woman came closer, staring, even her child falling silent. “Creek.”

“Creed,” I corrected. “And yes, Arik, the Bastard Prince of Khean is my packmate.”

“So it’s the Bastard Prince’s intended that the king seeks to steal,” the grizzled man said. “That’s what this is all about? The whole country in chaos for a girl.”

“Wouldn’t you lay waste the world to protect your woman?” I asked him. His eyes slid sideways, taking in the wife that was tucked into his side. We both saw her wide eyed stare. She looked utterly stricken by what she had gone through, her hands clasping the torn remnants of her blouse. I clicked a finger and a shirt was produced from somewhere and passed to me as I approached. “What wouldn’t you do to keep her safe?”

“Then where do you go, Master Creed?” a man with the bearing of a village elder asked, standing tall as he faced me down. “Where does the garrison commander go?”

“Sir?”

The commander’s use of an honorific was a strange thing. There were plenty of wolf shifters in various levels of the army, some who wielded great power, but using that kind of term caused some uneasiness with the humans.

Because while they forgot their history, some part of them remembered.

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