Grace of the Goddess (The Death Dealer Book 3) (12 page)

Eight

              In her dream, there was no choice at the fork in the road. Blood threatened to drown Grace. The wood flooded with the hot, sticky liquid and Grace clamored up a tree to get away. Several bodies floated face-down past her. Some wore fine clothes, and others peasant garb. Dozens drifted past while Grace clung to the tree's branches for dear life. Only three that floated by were faced upwards, and Grace knew their faces well. She had a hand in killing them. The branch she held cracked under the stress and dumped her into the river of blood.

              Grace sat up in her bed, panting. It was so dark she wasn't sure if her eyes were open or closed. After a few long moments, she settled back down. Sleep took her quickly.

              This time the road was fire. Burning pine filled her nostrils and Grace tried to stay ahead of the smoke that threatened to suffocate her. Her eyes stung and her body ached as though she had been running for hours. Before her, blue skies and an open field waited. If she could just make it to the edge of the trees! But it was not to be. The great wolf leaped into her path.

             
You must decide!
she howled. The sound reverberated through the burning wood, and Grace felt it in her bones. The flames licked at her back; their heat disturbingly real for a dream. She closed her eyes and let the heat surround her.

              When Grace woke the second time, she decided not to return to sleep. She pulled on a pair of black trousers, her guard tunic, slipped her feet into her boots, and strapped her sword belt on. She pulled her hair up, knotting it at the nape of her neck. She crept out of the castle and into the training yard.

              In the east, the black of night began to give way to the pinks and oranges of dawn. The ground was covered in frost. Grace regretted not getting her coat, but she'd warm up soon enough.

              In the dirt, she drew a circle with her foot. It wasn't very big. As a matter of fact, if she stood in the center, it barely extended an arm's length outward. She decided to run through the sword exercises, trying not to leave the circle. She liked the challenge. Sometimes she practiced complicated sword dances where she moved freely without the circle, but today she wanted the control. After her outburst at Katherine and her dreams, she knew things were moving beyond her control. Her sword practice didn't have to.

              Her sword moved as an extension of herself, and with each thrust and parry, Grace gained confidence. She stopped once to check her footprints in the dirt. Some came close to her line, but none crossed beyond the circle. She continued. After a time, she abandoned the circle for better foot work. Thrust, block, lunge. Again she stopped, this time to catch her breath.

              Someone clapped softly. Grace hadn't even noticed anyone approach. Turning to face her audience, she quickly dropped to her knee; her sword slipping from her hand and into the dirt. 

              “Your Highness!” she exclaimed. Grace kept her head down, focusing very hard on the foot she could see. She heard Drake approach as his boots came into her view, but still she didn't look up.

              “I did not know you had returned to Arganis, Grace.” There was no anger in his tone, only curiosity. “And please, get up out of the dirt.”

              The prince tugged at her upper arm, helping her to her feet. Grace looked up at him and found his eyes shining in the morning sun. He smiled.

              “I returned last summer, Your Highness. I work as a guard.”

              “I can see,” Drake said, waving down at her uniform. “I hope you don't mind me watching you practice.”

              “Of course not, Your Highness. I was only out here to clear my head.”

              “I suppose you are too tired for a sparring match?”

              “Uh...”

              “I want to see if you are as worthy a foe as when last we sparred.” Grace caught a hint of mischief in his voice and she forced a tight-lipped smile.

              “I am not worthy, Your Highness,” Grace replied lamely, groping for something to say.

              She owed Drake her life. He was the one to free her when his father would have seen her hang. Still, she wasn't prepared to enter into a sparring match with him. If anyone caught them, the embarrassment alone would kill her uncles. There was no telling what crazy manner of rumors would reach King Frederick. It was bad enough Katherine insisted Grace go for a ride.

              Drake inspected her carefully. “Another day, perhaps? I would not want you too tired to escort the ladies' ride this morning.” He patted her on the shoulder as though they were old comrades-in-arms, and strode away from the training grounds.

              Grace frowned at his back as she bent down to pick up her sword, wiping the dirt onto her trouser leg. Now that she had stopped her exercises, she shivered. The guests would be sitting down to breakfast soon, and she was expected to be ready after that. Returning her sword to her scabbard, she headed back to her room to change into her spare uniform.

~*~*~

              The chief hostler, a man named John, had all the horses saddled and ready. Four of the horses were ones Grace knew as Arganis stock and five were entirely new to her, ones for the ladies who would ride. Five stable hands and three other guards checked over the horses one last time.

              Hoburn was with the assembled guards, and Grace smiled to see a friend among those appointed to escort Katherine and her gaggle. Hoburn handed Grace the reins of a cream colored palfrey gelding. The horse butted his head into Grace's chest.

              Grace rubbed his nose with her other hand. “Oh, Pippin. I’m sorry I don’t have a treat for you today.” The horse snorted and sniffed her hand and sleeves just in case she had hidden an apple from him.

              Pippin was Grace's horse before she left Arganis. He was a fine beast; not so ill-tempered as Calvin's Wilfred, but he didn't suffer inexperienced riders. Grace visited him with apples at least once a week to make up for the fact that she never rode him anymore.

              Grace took his reins and held Pippin steady. “Are the ladies coming out soon?”

              Hoburn held his own horse steady; a brown mare named Sally who was large enough to bear his height. Grace patted Sally's nose and the mare nipped her fingers, hoping to find an apple of her own.

              “Their maids came out to say the horses must be ready. Her Grace is not a woman who accepts unpreparedness. A fussy woman, I'm gathering,” Hoburn said. “I am surprised to see you out and about.”

              “Her Grace requested it.”

              “Did she? And how did she even know you were here? I thought his lord was keeping you locked away so as not to cause a stir.”

              Grace sighed. “We had a bit of a run-in last night. I think she is doing this as a punishment for me.”

              “Look alive, boys! Your charges are coming,” John snapped.

              Grace and Hoburn straightened up as the stable hands brought the five new horses forward. From the castle, five women came out. Victoria and two of her ladies came first, followed by Katherine, her arm hooked with Deidre's. Grace's grip on Pippin's reins tightened. Behind the ladies, Leandra came scurrying out.

              With a curtsy, Leandra rushed ahead of the group, stopping herself in front of Grace and taking hold of her by the upper arms. “Her Grace insisted, even after I told her we only take Lady Deidre for walks around the grounds. I told her that ever since that horse threw Lord Daniel, your mother has stayed well enough away from them.”

              “You cannot let my mother out for this ride. She nearly ripped out the duchess's hair last night. Imagine the damage she could do with a horse!”

              Leandra squeezed Grace's arm, shaking her head. “You go right ahead and tell a duchess what she can and cannot do. If it is the same to you, I'd just as soon keep my job.”

              The other women had already come up to their horses. Deidre looked concerned, but she gently patted a white mare's neck. Next to her, Katherine smiled, although the duchess did not bother to look in Grace's direction. Instead, she called John over to discuss something. Grace had no choice but to accept her mother's inclusion in the morning ride.

~*~*~

              Grace led the party down the king's road, Hoburn rode in the center, and the other two guards rode rear guard. Victoria and her two friends rode directly behind Grace, while Deidre and Katherine rode next to Hoburn. Pippin walked along, head held high, bearing Grace along as though she weighed nothing. She was happy to be in the saddle again. For the winter's wolf hunts the guards mounted up, but since Grace did not take part she rarely got the chance to ride anymore.

              From behind her, Grace heard the ladies Gretchen and Juliet making snippy remarks about having a female guard. Calvin’s betrothed, Victoria, remained quiet.

              “Is
this
what will happen to us if we are considered unfit to be married?” Gretchen asked loudly. Grace rolled her eyes, glad they couldn't see her face. “Forced to wear men's clothing?”

              “And live in servant's quarters?” Juliet added.

              “It could be worse,” Victoria said. “I'd rather wear men's pants than be forced into the robes of a priestess.”

              Grace hazarded a look over her shoulder. Gretchen and Juliet looked at Victoria as though she were crazy, but Victoria just winked at Grace. Grace turned forward again, shaking her head slightly.

              “Grace, tell us – how does it feel?” Gretchen snickered. “What is it like, being so beyond repair that you had to change sexes?”

              Grace said nothing. Her tongue got her into this mess, and she wouldn't give Katherine further cause to despise her.

              Instead of listening to their talk, she concentrated on the road and the weather. The day dawned sunny and warmer than it had been. Grace's breath didn't hang as a little frozen cloud today, and the frost had already melted. Under the shade of the trees it was cool, but she savored each pass through a sunny patch. The rays penetrated the leaves and warmed her face as orange, red, and brown leaves fell along the road. Beyond the oaks were the tall pines, their scent heavy in the air.

              “Grace?” Juliet called. “What is it like to share a bunk with so many men? Do you get any sleep?”

              “Mind your tongue!”

Grace looked over her shoulder to see Katherine urging her horse next to Juliet's. “Young ladies do
not
make such vulgar assumptions, and in front of the girl's mother, no less!”

              Grace looked further back. Her mother was visibly lucid and her face burned red. Grace wasn't sure if she was ashamed of who her daughter was, or embarrassed by Juliet's nasty remarks. But really, it didn't matter. It was all because of Grace that her mother suffered to hear such things.

              “Your Grace, I am only stating-”

              “You are stating nothing more about this guardswoman. Victoria?”

              “Yes, Mother?” Victoria, who already sat straight and tall, managed to grow even taller when Katherine addressed her.

              “Ride with Lady Deidre. You two,” she pointed at Gretchen and Juliet, “ride with the rearguard. Good gentlemen,” Katherine instructed the two in the rear, “tell them, in as much detail as possible, what your day and training is like.”

              Everyone did as Katherine instructed, and the duchess brought her horse up to Grace's side. Grace refused to make eye contact; she simply looked straight ahead at the sun-spotted road with its many colored leaves.

              “You were once charged with being a witch,” Katherine said quietly. Behind them, Victoria talked to Deidre and the two guards detailed their lives. “But witches are crafty and calculating, whereas you are rash. I never did believe those charges.”

              “Thank you, Your Grace,” mumbled Grace. She was at a loss for anything else to say.

              “However, you are a fool.”

              “Then why have you asked that I come on this ride?”

              “Because you are my friend's daughter. Any kindness, any favor I ask of you, any defense I make for you, is not because I feel
you
are worthy, but because Deidre needs to think her daughter has not fallen entirely.” Katherine looked back to Deidre and Grace followed her line of sight. Her mother laughed delicately and patted Victoria's arm.

              “Those little ninnies, Gretchen and Juliet, will think your mother's madness can spread to them. I know better. Fresh air, good company, and kindness will ease her mind.” Katherine looked forward again. “Her nurse said you read to her and play chess with her. These are good things. I used to do that with my grandfather as his mind slipped away. It is good of you to take care of her.” Grace said nothing, but waited for the insult Katherine was sure to hurl at her next. However, Katherine said nothing else. She just continued to ride beside Grace.

              The ride continued peacefully enough, and before long, Grace returned them to the courtyard. The ladies' maids and Leandra came to see the ladies inside.