Page 4 of Seven Ways to Kill a King
Nan’s hand fell to Miri’s shoulder, steadying her. “It’s Thomas. But the guard will not be far behind.”
A massive cloaked form shouldered through the door, bringing with him the scent of smoke and sour ale. Thomas was not much of a drinker, but it was hard to supply the ale house without being covered in the warm yeasty scent. The sourness had not come from proximity to spills, though. It was for keeping guards away.
Thom shoved his hood down, face grim. “They’ll be along soon. Best get going, Miri.”
“I can’t—” Miri’s words caught in her throat. She was close to arguing that she couldn’t leave them when they were in danger, but staying would only mean a more certain death. Her eyes flicked between Nan and Thomas. They had both known her intent. Neither of them meant to stop her. She pressed her lips together. It was time. She was truly, finally, going to go and repay her debts. “Will you be safe?”
Nan gave her a soft smile. “We’ve made it this far, dearie. Nothing can hurt us now.”
The words were light, but Miri heard the emotion behind them. The thing that could hurt them was Miri. She had to stay safe, at least until she was out of their hands and they could no longer accept blame. They’d done more than enough through the years.
“Is everything ready?” Nan asked Thomas as she tied on a clean apron.
He nodded, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder.
“In the stable. Hurry along now. Say those goodbyes.”
“Pshaw.” Nan pushed Miri toward the old man. “‘Tis you who’s put off saying what needs to be said for too long.”
Thomas gave Nan a look but tugged Miri into a massive hug. He squeezed her tight against his barrel chest, and his cropped beard scuffed Miri’s cheek. “You’ll do well, little lion. You always have.” His words were no more than a whisper, but they hurt far worse than Nan’s had. Thomas had always held his feelings close to his vest, so his show of affection seemed larger and more severe. It seemed like an end.
“Off with you,” he said, spinning Miri out of the hug to rush her through the kitchen door.
It was a short sprint to the stable. The windows were shuttered so that the last few stalls were dark. Nan followed them, the sparse light from her lantern casting across Charlie’s scattered hay.
Miri reached up to pat the horse before she grabbed his bridle, but a figure shifted in the shadows, and her hand froze in midair.
“Hurry,” Thomas said to Miri, leading her forward with a heavy hand on her back. “We’re not sending you on Charlie. He’s too old, and the beast knows the way home from any tavern within a six-day ride.”
The shadowed figure shifted aside, allowing them past as Nan’s lantern light crawled across the barn floor and the edge of the stranger’s cloak.
“These are Wolf and Milo,” Thom said of two geldings that came into the light. “They’ll be taking you on from here.”
Miri was nudged toward the nearest horse and unceremoniously tossed astride. She nearly gasped at Thomas, but every sound she might have made seemed to be tangled in the mass of emotion that vined from the pit of her stomach to her throat.
“You’ll be watched after well,” Thomas said, and Miri had the strange sense that the words were less a promise than a threat.
That was when she realized the cloaked figure was meant for the other horse. “What?” she snapped, surprised at the loudness when her words had finally broken free.
Thomas patted her leg. “You’re no fool, girl. You know as well as any of us what can happen to a woman traveling alone through the neighboring kingdoms.”
She opened her mouth to protest again, but he was right. Miri did know. She’d thought of it before, of how each of her plans would require an ally to be properly seen through to the end. She understood strategy as well as the laws. But she’d gotten used to her guards being at a distance, not riding at her side.
Nan reached past Thomas to squeeze Miri’s hand. “He’s bloodsworn, Bean. He’ll do naught but protect you.”
The figure went still—though he’d barely moved before—and Miri’s hands went slick with sweat. He was not merely a queensguard. He was bloodsworn, a member of the queen’s personal guard. If they were caught, he would be killed after lengthy torture on the square in front of cheering crowds—like the others.
Nan’s hand slipped out of Miri’s fingers, and Thomas gave one final squeeze to Miri’s leg. The cloaked figure leapt onto the dark horse beside her, his scruffy, square jaw momentarily coming into view.
Nan whispered, “Hood up, dear. And Maiden protect you.”
The man beside her kicked his heel into his horse’s flank, and Thomas smacked the one he’d called Wolf—the one beneath Miri—on the rear. Both horses shot forward just as the doors to the stable opened, and Miri and her bloodsworn raced into the night. Nestled behind Miri were packs of food and supplies, what would be the last mementos of her time with Nan and Thom. Before her, patches of darkness stretched from the edge of town into a forest that was as black as a starless night. She was heading into the beginning of the end.
Chapter 3
The horses drove through the thick forest at speed, their steady hoofbeats the only sound that reached Miri through the roaring in her ears. The drumming was muffled background noise to the memories from so long ago that were assaulting her: running, darkness, terror, pain, the wetness on her cheeks that was her mother’s blood and her own tears, and the way her sister had screamed.
“Bean,” her guard said sharply, and Miri jolted to realize it was not the first time he’d said it.
