Page 26 of Deadwood
“Don’t hate that castle on the hill so much now, do you?” he asked, working on the top button of his shirt.
If anything, the sight before me made me hate my home more. Seeing Amosite’s people living in such conditions, with dogs wandering the streets, piles of manure stacked high behind buildings, and trash littered about. No one seemed bothered, as if this was normal to them. It almost made me…angry.
My father was sitting up in his castle, hoarding resources and hosting lavish parties, all while his people lived like this.
Did he purposefully hide this from me thinking that if I knew, I’d demand he do something about it?
I could help these people. I could replenish more magic if they needed it. Why would he keep it from me, knowing I could do more?
But worst of all, why was he okay with these conditions?
I didn’t give Lander a response, for if I told him the truth, he might take the information back to my father. Or worse, word could get back to my stepmother that I was ungrateful.
“Care for a stroll?” he asked, holding his hand out to me in offering.
Right. That was what we were meant to do. Show our presence, and look happy doing it.
I nodded, adjusting my skirt before placing my palm in his. We began walking side by side through the dusty street, the feeling of his skin on mine for so long foreign to me. The rocks hidden in the dirt threatened to pierce through the bottom of my slippers, quickly proving Lander right. I’d most definitely need better shoes for the journey.
Three Amosite guards trailed behind me, while two others stuck closer to Lander, their hands at the ready to grab their swords if they needed to act fast. I could feel the magic flowing through their weapons like my very own heart beating in my chest. Blacksmiths crafted daggers and swords with the ability to hold vials of magic in the pommel. Once a vial was placed in the compartment, its power would flow through the steel. If they inserted poison, it would infect whoever was cut by the blade. If they chose fire, the weapon would light with flames as soon as it was unsheathed.
I’d sometimes steal a quick peek at the guards training on the fields behind the castle, but I’d never seen them use magic during lessons. I could only feel magic being used from a certain distance, depending on the strength and type of power, but when it was amplified through steel, it was easier to detect.
We passed mostly empty carts of various fruits and vegetables, but what was left on display was either dirty or near rotten. Though what remained didn’t look appetizing in the slightest, people still milled about, making trades to purchase the foods so they’d at least have something in their stomachs. All the while, townspeople sent wary glances our way, rightfully confused as to why we were here.
Nausea rolled through me just thinking of how these families were living. How they must feel to live in fear of starving or wilting away from improper conditions. I hated that they had to endure such things. This wasn’tright.
As we continued on our way, Lander never strayed from my side. He stayed close, as did the guards. Being the king’s daughter, I was sure they were afraid someone might try to harm me, but for some reason, I didn’t carry the same fear I had felt a sliver of in the carriage.
The people had a right to hate me.
I caught a few glares as we made our way through the main square. Who we were went without question. Word of our engagement had probably already traveled, but now they had proof. It didn’t help that our means of transportation was so unnecessarily flashy that one glance and even a fool would know it held someone of royalty.
My focus snagged on a dark-haired man walking past us in a hurry, some kind of black ink traveling up his exposed arms in swirls and shapes I’d never seen before. I wasn’t aware people had the ability to stain their skin in such a way.
Beside me, Lander tensed a bit, dropping my hand as his eyes narrowed on the man passing an alley. Suddenly, the stranger switched direction, turning right back around as two city guards came out from a shop. They wore a different sort of armor than that of the castle’s guards, more silver weaved throughout with only accents of garnet.
The man’s clear attempt to avoid their attention failed as the guards drew their swords.
“Stop!” one of them shouted at the man.
Lander put a hand on my arm, halting me where we stood.
The man had to be barely twenty feet from us now.
He immediately took off in a run, the city guards following suit as one of their swords lit with flame.
My three guards quickly surrounded me while Lander’s did the same, ushering the two of us toward the nearest building to keep us out of the way. The one with a bald head and dark red beard grabbed my upper arm, yanking me against the wall. I let out a small gasp as his fingers dug into my skin, but my attention was too trained on the man with ink running down his arms to do anything about it.
“I said stop!” the guard shouted again as he sheathed his sword and yanked a firearm from his hip. It had a curved wooden handle with gold accents, the worn tip long and narrow.
My eyes widened at the sight of it.
Why would the guards in the city need to carry firearms? I’d only ever heard stories of them being used in battle, their magic bullets much more effective than close combat with a blade.
As if in slow motion, the guard’s thumb pulled back the hammer, his finger adding pressure to the trigger, and it fired.
An ear-piercing boom echoed off the stone buildings, the sound traveling down every nearby street.
