Grace of the Goddess (The Death Dealer Book 3) (24 page)

              “I am going on alone. I don’t want the help of a foolish girl who doesn’t have the sense to stick to her sewing. It was a mistake to bring you. Go home to Sir Leon and let him know you failed.” He bent down and picked up his sword, and then slung his pack of supplies over his shoulder. Tristan plucked the torch from the ground and headed into the woods in the direction the trail led.

              Grace felt her temper flare. She wanted to chase him, tackle him, and beat her fists into his face, but she didn’t bother. The noise would only bring unwanted attention. Instead, she would go home. She could use the stars to guide her home. She delayed, telling herself her eyes needed to adjust to the pitch black of night. But it was a lie.

              Grace wasn’t going home. She was going to put on her Dealer garb and follow Tristan’s torchlight through the trees. She could move silently and unseen.
And the fool will need rescuing by the end. I’m sure of it
, she thought to herself.

                                                               ~*~*~
              Grace hastily changed into her Death Dealer garb and followed Tristan, though she kept her executioner’s hood off for the moment. Once or twice he stopped to listen to the sounds in the woods, but he didn’t notice his little shadow creeping behind him. He moved on for a while in the dark before stopping again for food and drink.

Grace left him to his food and decided to travel ahead, as she knew there was a cottage nearby. Like the cottage by the well, it was mostly abandoned, but there was a slim chance Drake and Katherine would seek shelter there. They came this far into the woods; it was hard to believe they missed it. Though if they changed directions entirely, they might.

Grace took her chances. She moved along, trying not to make too much noise. It wasn’t long before the cottage came into view. Grace made out a single burning candle in the window. A dark figure, sword drawn, passed by the window.

              Grace ignored the rash part of her brain that urged her to storm the cottage. Her quarry might not even be there, and impulsive acts were what always got her into trouble. Instead, she crept around the cottage and peered in the window.

She saw Katherine sitting awkwardly on the floor with a dirty rag shoved in her mouth and her hands bound to her feet, eyes blazing with fury at her captor. Although Grace expected to find Kara somewhere in this mess, seeing the maid in the black Death Dealer garb with the executioner’s hood pulled up to reveal her face made Grace absolutely furious. She gripped the window sill and gritted her teeth when she saw Drake lying next to Katherine. His eyes were closed, but his chest moved up and down steadily. For now, he was alive.

The cottage only had one room, so if anyone else was working with Kara they weren’t around now. There was no telling when they would return or if they existed, but now was the time for action. Grace tucked her hair into the back of her shirt and slipped her own hood on. Sounds became muffled with the hood on, and even in the cold night air, everything was hot and stuffy.

Grace unsheathed her sword and moved to the door of the cottage. If she wanted to get in with all her limbs intact, she needed to catch Kara off guard. She stepped to the side of the door and banged on it with her sword hilt.

              Kara blew the lone candle out and the cottage was bathed in darkness. Grace banged on the door once more and then moved away, around the edge of the cottage and over to a window. She heard the door creak slowly open and took that opportunity to climb through the window. There was a muffled cry from Katherine, but nothing else. Silhouetted against the doorway, Kara looked into the woods, her sword at the ready. Grace positioned herself in the corner.

Kara closed the door and walked back to the candle, fiddling with her flint to relight it. Once the small flame illuminated the cottage, Grace let one of her throwing knives fly. It imbedded in the wood near Kara’s head. Ridley taught her the trick and Grace had never been gladder of it than now.
              Katherine struggled against her bonds and Kara swung around, sword raised high in the air, but paused when she saw the small figure in black. “When folks said they saw the Death Dealer roaming about, I assumed it was only the mumblings of drunkards. Yet here you stand, with the nerve to break in on the woman who left three dead in the woods already.”

“There is a host of men out there, you know,” Grace said in a gravelly voice, altering it as best as she could to make it lower. She hoped the lie would scare Kara.

              “Oh I know, sweet one.” Grace didn’t have time to wonder at Kara’s words, because the maid lunged at her fiercely. Grace was ready.

              She blocked Kara’s sword stroke and kicked out, her foot planting on Kara’s stomach and throwing the young woman backwards. Kara heaved and upended her dinner onto the dirt floor of the cottage. She recovered quickly, taking up her defense when Grace bore down on her.

              Kara was a practiced swordswoman, blocking easily and attempting swift counter strikes. Grace forced Kara to the door, trying to get her to go into the dark where somewhere Tristan still labored to find the cottage. He would forget his hate towards Grace and focus it all on Kara instead.

              Kara slammed her body into Grace’s with all her strength, driving Grace to her knees. She released her sword with one hand and grabbed at Grace’s hood. The mask came off, along with some of Grace’s hair.

              “You?!” Kara barked with laughter. “I thought I fought a little boy.” Kara doubled her efforts and pushed Grace back.

              Grace dropped to her knee and grabbed a handful of dirt. When Kara advanced on her, Grace threw the dirt in her face. As the maid screamed and clawed at her eyes, Grace jumped to her feet and put all of her effort into tackling Kara, to which the bigger woman answered by kneeing her in the stomach. Grace rolled off, clutching at her gut. She heard the sounds of retreat and saw the figure in black disappear into the woods. Kara ran away, but in the opposite direction Tristan would come from. Grace growled in frustration and pounded her fist into the dirt.

              She allowed herself a moment of frustration before thinking of Katherine and Drake, still in the cottage. She hobbled back in, feeling sore and angry that Kara got away when so much blood was on her hands.

              She cut Katherine’s bonds first. “
You
?” the duchess said as soon as her mouth rag was gone.
              “Yes, Your Grace, me.” Grace set to work cutting Drake loose. “Was he hurt?”
              “Just a bump on the head. She knocked him out and then forced me to help her carry him here. I couldn’t very well leave him and run for help, so I followed. And you – did you come all this way alone?”
              “Sir Tristan is about, although he is sore with me. He will be along soon, no doubt.”

              “Thank you, Grace.” Katherine took hold of Grace’s hands, stopping them from her work.              Grace was shocked to see tenderness, visible even in the candle light, on the duchess’s face. “Do you know what she meant about there being a host of men out there? I lied to her, wanting her to think I was bringing the force of Arganis down upon her.”

              “If I guess correctly, she had the king’s army at her back.”

              Katherine hung her head. “She showed me her orders to capture Drake and me alive. They bore the king’s seal. Even if you bear us back to Arganis, we are no longer safe.”

              Grace thought on this. “Do you think you can sneak into the village?”

              “Why would we want to sneak back into the village?” Katherine asked, raising an eyebrow. “Frederick is probably going to look for us there first.”

              “There is a woman in the village – or there was, at least – and she may be able to take you out on her ship, if she’s still there. Her name is Kay Lansa, and for a bit of gold she will do whatever you ask.” Grace kept trying to think of ways to get Katherine and Drake out, but she knew Tristan would need to go with them as well. He had also received a threatening letter. Would Grace be able to help them? Leon was tangled in their plot, so he would need to be warned. And what if Kara was telling the truth and there was a host of men out there, waiting to arrest them all for treason?

            Grace covered her face with her hands as she realized there was no way to get a message to anyone. She would have to go to the castle and alert Leon herself. Outside, she heard the sound of footsteps. She brought her head up and saw Katherine move to the door.

              “It’s only Tristan,” Katherine declared.

              The knight came in, torch still in hand. He looked at Grace, scowled, and turned his attention to Drake. “What happened?” he demanded.

              “A tap on the head is all. He is breathing and will be awake soon.” Katherine took Tristan's pack and portioned out what food was inside to those who were awake, and then set aside another portion for Drake to have when he came to.

              “What do we do now?” the knight asked as he sat on the floor dejectedly. He ignored Grace and focused entirely on Katherine.

              “I can run back to Arganis and get help,” Grace began. “If I run, even in the dark, it will only take a few hours. The moving will not be as slow as when Tristan and I tracked you,” Grace volunteered. Next to her, Tristan mumbled under his breath.

              “Absolutely not!” Katherine snapped. “Our last guard fell into a wolf pit because he wasn’t mindful of where he stepped. I will
not
have you running blindly in the dark. Plus, Kara is still out there…and who knows who else.”

              “I have been running blindly in the dark for years. If I get closer to the castle, there are no pits to worry about.”

              “
If
you get closer…however, I will not risk your life on 'ifs', Grace. No. We must all rest. You two most of all. I will keep watch first, then Tristan, then Grace, and then Drake if he can be roused. Now try to get some sleep. We will discuss what happens next once we are all rested.”

              No further arguments in her, Grace moved to a corner and curled herself into a ball for warmth. It seemed unlikely that she would be able to sleep, but after a while her eyelids grew heavy.
 

Sixteen

              In her dreams, Grace took the trail covered in blood. She ran along it for some time. Behind her, the heat of the flames lessened. She came upon a clearing and found a man face-down in the dirt with a knife between his shoulder blades. The blood flowed from him, but how could one person create such a river? Grace bent over and grabbed the hilt of the knife, drew it out, and suddenly the man gasped for breath. The blood receded, but when he rolled over, Grace saw it was Drake. From the path, she heard a great crash and the splintering of wood. Grace turned around quickly to see fire had already destroyed the path back. She realized she had no way to return.

              Grace woke with a start, flaying her hands wildly and nearly hitting Drake. The prince looked at her curiously and gave a weak smile, and then Grace looked around and noticed that Tristan and Katherine were also up. Outside the cottage's window, Grace saw a gray dawn.

              “Did I miss my watch?” Grace asked tiredly.

              “I woke up and relieved Tristan of his duty. I tried to wake you, but you could not be roused,” Drake explained. “So I let you sleep. Katherine and Tristan have been filling me in on all the things that happened since I was knocked out.”

              “And trying to decide what we should do now,” Katherine continued. “We are not safe here, but it will hardly be safe anywhere in Arganis.”

            “We could find a coastal village and try to get on a trade ship bound for Nareroc,” Tristan said.
Grace shook her head in disagreement.

“Arganis has the biggest port in this area, and only Cesernan trade passes through the smaller towns and villages up here. If you want a ship to Nareroc, you have to go back to Arganis.”
              “Katherine said you have a friend who is staying the village. If she is still there, would she give us safe passage?” Drake asked as he handed Grace the water flask and an apple.

             She took a quick sip and bit into the apple. “We are hardly friends, so she may not…but for a price she may. However, she may have already left, too.”

              “Are you referring to Kay?” Tristan asked. Grace had already forgotten that the two danced at Calvin's wedding. All of that seemed a distant dream now. “She planned to stay on for a few weeks, but I think that was only because she wanted to needle Grace. Although I think she is too unsavory a person to transport such dignified passengers.”

              “There is no helping that,” Katherine said. “We’ll have to try and get to her unseen. One of her crewmen can deliver a message that we are safe, but the less anyone in Arganis knows, the better.”
              “Then we had best get moving,” Drake said determinedly.

                                                                             ~*~*~
              They began walking without any words between them. Tristan led the way, his sword at the ready, while Grace took the rearguard, sandwiching Katherine and Drake between them. After a while, Grace began to feel uneasy. She didn't share her feelings, but her heart pounded and her limbs shook with each step. She suddenly feared to go home. Dread clouded her mind, and as she walked on, the uneasiness only grew.

              “Gods,” Tristan swore, stopping their progress. “What is
that
?”

              Everyone looked to see where he pointed and saw a pillar of black smoke rising high in the air from the direction of Arganis castle. Grace thought about her dreams of blood and fire, and realization dawned on her regarding what her choice meant. Without waiting to see if the others wanted to change the plan, she began running for home.

              “Grace!” Drake screamed after her. “Come back! It's too dangerous!” She ignored his protests and ran for all she was worth.

              The smoke became thicker as Grace drew closer, covering everything in a gray haze. She couldn't see what had been set on fire, but she knew it was no simple bonfire. As she ran closer, she tied the Death Dealer hood around her nose and mouth just in case. Where was it blowing from? She had yet to see any fire.

              The castle walls came into view. Behind them, through the haze, Grace saw the smoke as it billowed out of the top floors of the castle – the family's chambers. Grace doubled her speed and sprinted through the gates, when she was caught by two men. She struggled against them and was hit over the head for her troubles.

                                                                          ~*~*~
              Grace dreamed. In here, the men were gone. The path behind her was blocked by fire, the way forward was black, and Grace had no torch. She sat alone, crying over her failure to save Arganis. The great wolf Diggery trotted out of the blackened road ahead.

              “Go away!” Grace screamed. “This is
your
fault! You could have warned me about the danger that lay ahead!”

              Grace buried her face in her hands, but two cold hands forced her face up. Instead of the wolf, a young woman looked down at her. Grace knew her. Her hair was as black as the wolf's fur, but her eyes were a deep purple, the color of twilight before the world goes dark. She had brown skin and wore travel stained clothes.

              “Kit?” Kit had been Grace's friend from the moment she first arrived in Glenbard. She was a wanderer, taking to supply trains and trade ships all over the world. She also seemed to have a knack for arriving just when things looked their bleakest.

              “I have many names and many forms, Grace, but it seems to me that now you need to see one you are more likely to trust.”

              “Why did you lay this on me?”

“You are a loyal servant, and I did not choose these paths. I knew they were coming and I put them before you. I used your dreams to warn you.” Diggery smoothed Grace's hair with one hand and held her chin with the other. “But these circumstances are not of my making. We gods do not control the slippery wills of man.”

“What happens now?” Grace asked. She felt shaken and drained from everything.

              “You submit to this path that you have chosen, or you move forward.”

              Grace looked at the blackness ahead, and then got to her feet and walked back to the path blocked by fire. She found a few sticks on the ground and wrapped them together with a band Diggery handed her, and then thrust the sticks into the fire. With a suitable torch made, she walked toward the darkened path, torch held in front of her.