Page 52 of Seven Ways to Kill a King
After a long silence, he said, “Tell me about Stormskeep.”
Miri felt the squeeze in her chest lighten. His forgiveness was a balm to her tattered heart. She let her breathing steady before she spoke, her words soft. “Beyond the keep is a large courtyard, a maze of gardens and fountains and sculptures of queens gone past. In the center is a walled sitting area that held the Lion Queen’s favorite bench. Each afternoon, no matter the weather, she would take her youngest daughter to rest there so they could sit among the gardens and have a quiet moment to themselves.” Miri closed her eyes to the memory, hearing the birdsong and the voices that floated over the wall. “The two were not always alone, though, not the only ones hidden beyond that barrier wall. Some days, there was a boy who played at swords.”
Cass’s voice was quiet behind her. “Was it Lord Ham Hock?”
Miri’s laugh was as soft as a breath. “No. This boy was far more pleasant, hardworking, and eager to impress.” She smiled to the room beyond them. “Though he was a bit of a glory hound.” Cass snorted, and Miri went on. “He would climb the walls that circled the bench, his long sword glinting in the sun. And there he would practice, without a word, as the queen and her daughter looked on.”
“Was it to win the favor of a beautiful princess?” he murmured into her hair.
“Impossible to say,” Miri answered. “But the queen had two daughters, sisters unmatched in their wit.” She felt Cass smile, but her own smile fell. “The princesses were fortunate in so many things, but the youngest took her pleasure not from fancy dress and matters of state but from those small moments in the garden with a mother who loved her. From her lessons with Henry on how to use a sword.” Miri’s throat caught, but she forced the words. “From running through the courtyard as if it would always be there.”
Cass did not offer her assurances that it would soon be returned. They had both lost everyone they had loved that day as well as their very hearts and home. Miri fell quiet, remembering the faces of each of her maids, her tutors, and her friends. She recalled Henry’s fingers, calloused from swords, the way her small hand could disappear inside his, and the way a smile could unexpectedly split his weathered face. She remembered her mother’s laugh, how it could echo through the garden, and the way the tension seemed to ease from her shoulders each time Miri entered a room. She had loved Thom and Nan, but Stormskeep would always be home. She might not be able to restore their families, but Miri would take back their home—whatever the cost.
Chapter 30
Stormskeep had always been wealthy. It was the center of the realm, heavily populated, well-developed, and the worst place Miri and Cass could be. At any moment, they could be recognized or cross paths with a sorcerer. They could be caught.
But Miri could not bring herself to regret it. She stared out the window of the massive second-story room toward the bright and busy streets below. They had traveled into the city under the guise of a local lord and lady, the queen’s faithful guard disguised at their sides. Miri had worn a gown and a veil but had changed into slim pants and a jacket, a wardrobe tailored specifically for her coming task.
She had been reminded of her goal and once again embraced her duty. In a thousand ways, outside their window, Miri’s people waited for her to fulfill her vow. Her mother’s face was carved into the buildings and statues of Stormskeep, staring down at her not with the soft, understanding eyes that had graced her in private but with the uncompromising severity shown to those who opposed her.
The effigies had been chipped and broken, but they remained standing just the same, carved into stone as a reminder of the way things were meant to be. To speak her name was treason, but the kings could not stop the symbolism and subvert icons. The people of Stormskeep carried on. So in Stormskeep, Miri’s mother watched her from everywhere and from nowhere.
“Myrina,” someone said from behind her, and she turned to face the room.
A dozen men and women surrounded a map spread over the long table. It was a fraction of what was left of the queensguard, each with their own men to command hidden among the city.
“What of the map?” Terric asked.
He’d only just returned to Stormskeep himself, and as the lot of them gathered, Terric had coordinated contacts across the seven kingdoms. The kings had armies, each of which were scattered through the realm. Nan and Thom would cause havoc at Smithsport and Ginger and Hugh at Blackstone. So many others had risen to aid in their plans as well. Riots and rumor, whatever it took. The sorcerers would need to be drawn out, away from the keep and from Lettie, and should the other tactics not succeed, Miri had given the sorcerers cause enough to leave—to find the second daughter of the Lion Queen.
They would scour the land, and all the while, she would be the last place they would expect her and the most dangerous. Miri and her mother’s guard would be at Stormskeep, in the den of a bear. They had reviewed the detailed map, including every unmarked passage inside the castle walls, every tactic the kings had ever used, and every favor that might be won. They had a plan. They were ready.
But they were running out of time. Three kings were dead. One sorcerer was gone. They knew that Miri lived, and once they had the second princess, Lettie’s life could be forfeit, no need to wait for the end of summer and her name day. Miri’s sister could be killed. And now she knew Nicholas, cowering within the keep, had possession of their mother’s blood. Miri made another promise. Nicholas would be the next king to pay his debt.
She looked at the map beneath Terric’s hand. She knew the layout of the stronghold by heart. “Burn it. We move at dawn.”
* * *
Miri and Cassstrode through the passages beneath Stormskeep’s castle, quietly dispatching kingsmen who stood in their way. They had an understanding between them. Each was aware of the bone-deep knowledge of a place they’d loved as children, and each was deadly and accurate in their work. It was their home. It was their reckoning.
Behind them and in other parts of the city and the castle, queensguard played their parts. Miri could not go near a sorcerer, but instead of dismay, the news had only brought Terric inspiration. He had called it to their advantage, as Miri’s reaction would give them the precious warning they needed. Bloodsworn could not be killed by their magic, so the sorcerers who tried could be driven through with a sword. Together, they would stand a fighting chance. Cass had looked on darkly at the idea a princess could be used as bait, but Miri had not argued. She was walking into the keep one way or another. If they could defend her weakness—as significant as it was—she would take all the help she could get.
She had every intention of killing Nicholas, but no version of the plan allowed her to stride into the throne room and announce her intentions to run him through with her sword. They had decided that she would maintain her distance from the keep as long as possible to minimize her chance of running into the sorcerers. So, with Cass and half a dozen soldiers at her side, she traversed the passageways to the only other place that would be worth the risk—to the cells to find Lettie.
Miri pressed down the fear of what she might find and how the years might have worn on her sister, because all of her focus had to be on their task and their last chance to save the realm. The lot of them were dressed in black, their uniforms trim and weapons sparse. They would be fighting in close quarters, relying heavily on stealth. The kingsmen deep within the castle, their forms broad and menacing in the dark, had not been prepared for the attack. Caught unaware, they fell easily, unsuspecting in their duties for an area the court rarely visited—unless, of course, they’d been placed there permanently. As Cass slid a key into the locked gate, Miri recognized what had been once fine clothes on the prisoners in the cells beyond. She suspected the lowborn criminals had been killed to avoid the hassle of providing steady meals.
A queensguard took a torch from the wall and led Miri down the corridor to check each of the cells. Firelight splintered across the stone walls as Cass’s gaze made clear he didn’t like the possibility of being trapped in a dead-end hall. The others waited on watch in the shadows near the gate. Time was of the essence, but if they could get Lettie free, the king’s leverage over the sorcerers would take a solid hit. They passed each cell slowly, Cass on one side of the corridor, Miri on the other, searching the faces of the men and women inside. The farther they went, the heavier the dread settled into Miri’s stomach. Lettie wasn’t there, her slender figure and lion’s-mane hair nowhere among the disheveled forms.
As they reached the last of the line, Miri turned toward Cass, sick as she tightened her grasp on her sword. Her sister’s name thrummed with the ragged beat of her heart. But Cass was still. He and the other queensguard were frozen before the opposite cell. Cass fumbled with the key ring as the guard’s torch flickered dim light over a square of stone floor with a thin blanket over a prone form. Miri stepped forward, but it could not be Lettie. It was a man, his figure large but worn thin with what must have been years inside the cell. A strange noise came from Cass as he finally released the lock. The ring of keys clattered to the floor in his haste to open the cell door.
He crouched beside the man, while the other queensguard stood frozen in his spot, and Miri stepped beside him. Cass reached for the man with trembling hands. His gray beard obscured much of a weathered face. But the noise from Cass broke, suddenly louder, and Miri realized it was something of a strangled sob. Her hand went to her throat, her knees suddenly weak. On the floor before them, his massive hand held in Cass’s, was the head of the Lion Queen’s guard—Henry.
* * *
Henry was not dead.Miri had seen him fall during their long-ago rescue, but she’d been carted away in the fighting. He had lived, injured enough not to evade escape, and had likely been dragged to the cell to be held for ransom should the queensguard or uprisings call for it. Miri, Cass, and the other queensguard went to their knees before Henry. His gaze roamed over their faces with evident awe. Cass put his hands under the man and pulled him to sit, and a realization started to buzz through Miri frantically. She opened her mouth to say so, but the clang of metal rang through the corridor before she had a chance. They were out of time.
Cass and the queensguard pulled Henry to his feet, and Miri took the torch as the two men slipped their arms beneath his shoulders. Then they ran through the corridor. The queensguard at the gate fought off kingsmen with dagger and sword. Shouts rang from a far-off part of the castle, and two of the queensguard at the gate gasped at the sight of Henry as they came into view.
