Page 43 of The Bone King and the Starling

I nod. She turns. Before she can gather her skirts and leave, I tell her, “Thank you. I do not know what I’ve done to deserve such kindness.”

Moira smiles and crouches down in front of me. She takes my face between her hands and says, “We women have to stick together. It’s a cold world out there. Even colder alone.” She hesitates, but doesn’t leave and when she drops her hands to catch mine, she clutches them firmly. “Are you certain?”

“Certain?”

“I am assuming you mean to leave Winterbren, maybe even Wrath, entirely. I can help you secure passage almost anywhere you like, and I still have family back in the old land that could harbor you, but I will tell you it isn’t an easy life. No life is easy for a young woman, or woman of any age. You could stay here, as an alternative, work for me. I would pay you a living wage…”

“No. No no no no no, Moira, I couldn’t. The king… He would find me eventually and you would be… He would kill you for harboring me. I didn’t even say goodbye to my friends in Winterbren for fear of what he’d do to them if he ever discoveredthey knew of my plans.” I shiver and shake my head again, emphatically. “No. He is a violent man.”

Moira’s mouth falls open and her eyebrows crease. She touches my cheek. “Violent towards you or violent for you? There is a difference.”

“I…” I shake my head, confused by her words. Rattled. “I just…can’t stomach it.”

She nods in understanding. “You are a grown woman of sound mind. If you’ve made yours up, I will not question it. The king will never know that you were here tonight, though I will tell you that he does not seem like a male who’s come with the intent to punish. He seems more like a male who’s come with the intent to plead…”

“The king’s men are everywhere,” Dimitra says, huffing as she rounds the corner at a sprint. “We won’t be able to sneak her inside, even through the back entrance.”

Moira curses and stands up. “Let me see if I can’t give them some motivation to leave the inn. Wait here, Starling. I’ll return for you when it is clear.”

Quick as the wind, they turn and flee leaving me alone with my thoughts, with my concerns…maybe even, my regrets. He looks like a male who’s come with the intent to plead. What does she mean by that? Does she think him not as violent a male as I do? Is he only acting in his capacity as king? Or does he enjoy the blood and the agony? Will he direct it towards me should I fail or upset him…as I’ve already done by running? Or, is his violence only an act of the care he seems to feel towards me?

I shiver. There is no chance he wouldn’t have my back flayed far worse than anything Rosalind could have ever dreamed up. Though to know now that I had a chance at a free life years ago and Rosalind denied me makes me feel a little less charitable towards her. Not that charity will save her. I’m not sure King Calai left enough of her soul intact for even the gods to salvage.

As I sit huddled against the wooden wall of the stables, my nervousness mounts. Time passes. Moira and Dimitra don’t return. The temperature has dropped and I’m even colder now as all this insecurity brings the temperature of my blood down. I want to scream. I want to weep. I want to ask the gods if they can allow me a small glimpse into the future so that I can know the king’s mind and be sure that the violence of his hand does not affect his heart.

And then a voice as familiar to me as my father’s and just as mean tears my thoughts out from under me like a rug. “He’s in there now,” Tori says, voice sounding ragged and enraged. His voice is clear, frighteningly so. I clap my hand over my mouth and glance at the wooden half wall. He’s in the stables. There is only this flimsy wood separating us. I don’t breathe. I don’t move. “Let’s go. I’m not waiting anymore. He needs to pay!”

“That disgrace of a king destroyed Winterbren.” The second male’s voice comes to me as an even greater shock. It’s Torbun. Torbun may be many things, but a devout loyalist to Tori or even Olec, he is not. Torbun’s character was never easy to puzzle out. He is devoted only to power. I’d have thought his allegiance would fall easily to the king now.

Torbun prattles on, “We will exact our revenge for what he has done to Olec and Rosalind. And to think, he will install my own son as chief in Olec’s absence, overlooking my claim entirely.” Ah. I understand now. Even though I understand, Torbun’s inability to be happy for his eldest son surprises me. Perhaps, I truly am not meant to be queen. I do not have the ambitions of these petty, jealous men. I yearn only for kindness, only for love.

“There you are. What did you find?” Tori says.

Another voice I don’t recognize answers. “It’s time. The king has ordered a bath and the servants have brought his water. He should be bathing now. We should go.”

“Are we enough?” a fourth voice says nervously.

Tori is quick to respond. “We’re seven.” Seven? Seven against one? The king is said to be a formidable warrior, but seven seems far too many. I cannot fathom who else would have joined this crusade, but I suddenly feel fear for the king. Despite his violent hand, I can say that the changes he proposed to me in private would make Winterbren better. Already, releasing the thralls was a wonderful gift. I can’t let them kill the king. My feelings towards Calai aside, I can’t let them take these new freedoms away from so many people. I must warn someone. The consequences to me be damned.

Careful not to make any sound, I shuffle along the edge of the wooden wall until I round the end of the building. Here, the wooden stable walls turn to the stone walls of the inn and I burst into a sprint. My hem and pack weigh me down, but I fight the strain in my shoulders and neck as I pass by startled employees who try to stop me from entering the squat, two-story structure.

“What…what are you doing?” Dimitra says, rushing out of the lit building and grabbing my shoulders. “You shouldn’t be here. You’ll be seen! Moira has just convinced all of the king’s men to come to the tavern for free ale. Only the king remains in the building and she’s plying him with wine while he bathes.”

“He’s alone?” What have I done? They will surely kill him now.

She nods, expression confused and concerned. “That’s what you wanted…”

“It is, but I believe someone may be going to try to kill the king! Go get his men! Urgently!” I push past her, unsure if she’s listening to me at all. I remember Moira saying he was on the second floor, but I don’t know which room. “Where is he?” I shout over my shoulder.

“In the room just at the top of these stairs!” she shouts after me. “Are you not worried about him punishing you for running from him?”

Of course I am, but I cannot let Tori, of all people, be the one to slay the king, ambushing him when he is weak. A male who’s come to plead. I will have to take my chances with Tori first, the king second if I am successful. And if I’m not…then we are all doomed.

It only occurs to me as my feet hit the narrow, weathered stairs that Tori is still living. I thought the king would have killed him during the second bloody round of the games. I wonder what stayed his hand and a momentary ache fills my chest at the thought that perhaps…the king might have been willing to see reason.

Fear has been my only constant these long years. But perhaps, I should find a new ally. One called courage.

The inn is a simple construct. Two floors with a single hall running the length of each, rooms on either side of the hall. There are two staircases. One for use by guests, the other a narrower staircase for the inn’s employees. I take the latter and it brings me up to the second story at one end of the hall. The other, wider staircase brings guests up in the center of the room-lined corridor. I reach the second floor at the same time Tori does.

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