Warrior Witch: Malediction Trilogy Book Three (6 page)

D
awn came far too soon
.

While Cécile disappeared to check on Aiden, I spent the first hours of the morning listening to the tallies of soldiers, arms, and supplies. To strategies put forth by men who had no real concept of what they were facing. Even with my little demonstration, the idea that Roland could stand in the face of an army’s worth of artillery and laugh was inconceivable to them. And though the Regent’s council remained uneasy in my and Victoria’s presence, it didn’t take long for them to start talking over us. Fred they included in the conversation – given Aiden was only a ceremony away from becoming Regent – but the volume of his voice suggested he was no less frustrated.

“They really are quite dense,” Victoria said, sliding her chair back a couple paces and settling her booted heels on the table with a thud. Several of the men shot her appalled glances, but she ignored them. “Maybe we should have sent them down to watch Marc push boats out to sea.”

“I believe they are called ships,” I said, the conversation around us stalling, just as she had intended.

“Semantics,” she declared, and began pruning her fingernails with a razor sharp filament of magic. When all twelve pairs of eyes at the table were on her, she asked, “Are you lot of armchair generals ready to listen or must I sit through another hour of your abysmal strategies?”

Eyes bulged and jaws twitched, but before anyone could speak, the door opened and Marc came in, an out-of-breath man trailing at his heels. “First ships have returned,” my cousin said. “But not all of them will make it back.” He nudged the man. “Tell them.”

The sailor peered up at Marc, trying to get a glimpse within the depths of his hood, then seemed to think better of it. “We went up the coast, but kept lights out and silence on the deck as she directed,” he nodded at Victoria. “There’s some coastal villages that seem untouched – could see folk moving about with torches and lanterns – but others…” He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. “They’re nothing but glowing pits of char.”

The councilmen broke out in exclamations of dismay, but I held up a hand to silence them. “How many?”

“Four, by my count.”

“And how far down the coast has he reached?” I gestured to the map on the table, watching as he tapped a finger against a hamlet located on the Ocean Road. “This is where we saw him.”

“Not that far from Trollus,” I muttered to Victoria.

She nodded, tapping her bottom lip. “They could be much further if all they cared about is destruction.”

The look in her eyes told me we were thinking the same thing: that just as Cécile had said, Roland was taking oaths of loyalty from those who surrendered. What he might choose to do with those oaths made my stomach clench. Then the sailor’s words finally settled. “You
saw
him?”

The sailor nodded, face pale. “Was hard to make out anything in the dark, so we stayed until dawn, but retreated away from the coast so we needed a scope to see.” He blew out a long breath. “Came down onto the beach, and he was just a boy. Just a boy.”

How many times had the same sentiment stayed my hand?

“He waded in – didn’t seem to care a wit about the cold – and then he started splashing his hands in the water like a child. Laughing like a child. But the ocean
moved
.”

“It does that, I hear,” Victoria said, but there was little levity in her voice.

“It was like a giant was playing in the water. Or a god. All my life has been spent at sea, and I’ve never experienced waves like that.”

There was nothing heavier than the ocean.
A bead of sweat ran down my spine.

“Then the ship closest to the coast disappeared under the surface, only to reappear and be plunged down again.” His eyes went distant. “Like a toy in a bathtub. But the men were screaming…” He shook his head sharply to dispel the memory. “Thought we were all done for, but an ice fog came in fast and no one could see more than a few feet either way. Not even him.”

She’d
interfered to save the ships. But why? I left Victoria to continue questioning the sailor as I considered the Winter Queen’s motivations. First her showing Cécile Angoulême’s plans and now this? It seemed almost as though she were siding with us against him, but it couldn’t be that simple. She wasn’t trying to rid the world of my brother out of the goodness of her heart – there wasn’t a benevolent bone in her body. There had to be something in it for her.

“He’s telling the truth,” Marc said. “I was on the docks when the waves came in. I did what I could, but…” He lifted one shoulder. “Most of the harbor was destroyed, lower reaches of the city flooded. Those living there will need help.”

“So much for your protection,” one of the councilmen muttered, but I ignored him, giving the command to evacuate those whose homes had been damaged to higher ground as my mind turned to my father and Angoulême.

Both of them were banking on my refusal to harm my brother. Cécile had heard Angoulême say as much, and even if she hadn’t, the fact that the Duke was allowing his puppet prince to roam in plain view made it abundantly clear. If he truly believed Roland was at risk from me, he’d be taking more care. And my father? I toyed with the cuff of my sleeve, wishing I had any such certainty about his strategy. He had the capacity to stop Roland, but he hadn’t done so. He had the ability to pull Trianon out from under me, but hadn’t so much as stirred from Trollus. And the Winter Queen? I scrubbed a hand across my eyes, the questions Cécile had raised making me wonder if her actions were part of a larger game than I realized.

“Your Highness?” I heard one of the advisors speak, but I ignored him. This was as complex a game of Guerre as I had ever played, but there was far more at stake than tiny gold figurines. People were dying as I sat safely behind castle walls trying to unpack the plots of a multi-headed enemy, and I knew that if I sat here another month I still might not understand every motivation, every plan. And even if I did, at that point, would there be anything left to save?

I stood up, the humans flinching and Marc squaring his shoulders, seeming to sense my plan of action before I’d uttered a word.

“My brother cannot be allowed to continue unchecked,” I said. “Ready your ship, Captain. We move against him tonight.”

“
Y
ou should rest
,” I said to Lady Marie as I entered the cell, holding up my hands to the brazier. I’d expected her to put her son in a sumptuous suite of rooms, but even in her grief, Marie was pragmatic. The dungeons, dank from the river that ran to either side of the castle, were rarely used (as far as I knew) since the construction of the Bastille, but they had been maintained, the iron bars on the windowless cells strong and secure. The heavy stone assured no sound would pass into the upper levels, and the singular entrance made it easy for the trolls to keep anyone unwanted out. Most importantly, in my mind, should Aiden become unmanageable, then the dungeon would serve its intended purpose.

She shifted on the stool next to the cot on which Aiden lay, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Do you truly believe I’m going to leave my son alone with you, witch?”

She said “witch”, but I heard another word. Judging from the scowl that appeared on Vincent’s face, he heard the same. I gave a slight shake of my head. “What precisely do you think I’ll do to him?”

Marie’s jaw tightened and she turned bloodshot eyes on me.

“He needs to be watched at all times,” I said. “There are only a handful of individuals we can trust with the task, and most of them are needed for more important ventures.” I sat on the edge of the bed. “And that includes you. My brother is bright and capable, but he was raised on a pig farm and you’ve abandoned him to impersonate a man raised with all the power and privilege the Isle has to offer. This is your plan, motivated by your desire for your son to have a chance at life after we triumph, but if there is to be any hope of it succeeding, you must remain present and involved.”

Her eyelid twitched. “There was a time I felt sorry for you – believed you were naught but an innocent victim. Of the trolls. Of Anushka. Of fate and chance.” She rose to her feet and dropped into a deep curtsey. “As you wish, so shall it be, Your Highness.”

Vincent let out an explosive sigh after she left. “Stones and sky, Cécile. You couldn’t have come sooner? Cursed woman has been staring at me as though I were a rabid dog.”

“Have you ever seen a rabid dog?” I asked, leaning down to listen to the lord’s breathing. Even in sleep, it seemed unsteady. Afraid.

“No.” He pushed away from the wall, coming to stand next to me. “But it’s a turn of phrase that I’ve always wanted to use.”

“The trouble with a rabid dog,” I said, resting my hand against Aiden’s forehead and frowning as he flinched, “is that no matter how much you care for it, you still have to put it down.” I straightened. “I’m afraid that when he wakes, there won’t be anything human left.”

I
t was
several hours later when Vincent roused me from where I’d fallen asleep with my head resting on the edge of Aiden’s cot. Sabine stood just beyond, a lamp full of troll-light in one of her hands.

“Tristan give you that?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“No…” She hesitated, then shook her head. “But Tristan does want to see you – both of you. I’ll stay with Lord Aiden.”

W
e found
Tristan in the council chamber in the company of Victoria, Marc, and my brother. I wanted to go to him, but there was an agitation in his movements that warned me to keep my distance.

“We need to act now,” he said with no preamble. “Allowing Roland to continue as he has will cost us more than we can hope to gain by waiting.”

“Tristan–”

“I know, Cécile.” His eyes ran over me, then he turned away as though what he saw was physically painful. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then who–”

Fred slammed his cup down on the table, interrupting me. “I’ve things to take care of, and my opinion on this venture has counted for nothing.” He stomped from the room.

“Marc, Vincent, and Victoria will go,” Tristan said, his voice steady. “They are trained in combat, whereas Lessa and Roland are not. It might give them the advantage they need to take them down.”

“Might?” I was on my feet, though I couldn’t remember standing. “You can’t be serious, Tristan? You’re sending them to an almost certain death!”

“So little faith,” Victoria said, an unfamiliar smile crossing her face. “Lessa and I have a score to settle, and it’s not one I intend for her to walk away from.”

“Only if I don’t get to her first,” Vincent said, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning back until his chair creaked dangerously. “Marc, you can take Roland.”

“Thank you for that.” Marc leaned forward, dropping the magic that hid his face so that I could see him. “Cécile, it’s the only option. We cannot allow Roland and Lessa to continue unchecked, and we dare not send Tristan out with the power Winter has over him unless there is no other choice.”

“You mean if you’re dead.” My eyes burned.

Marc sat back. “Yes.”

I sank my teeth into my bottom lip. “Then we need to even the odds.” I turned to Tristan. “I’m going with them.”

I expected a knee-jerk reaction from him. An instantaneous no. But he had expected this. “You’re in the same circumstance as I am, Cécile.
She
wants to get her hands on you, so she can get to me. They’ll be watching for you, and not just the fey, but the trolls as well. You’re too recognizable.”

I pulled the knife from my belt. “I can remedy that.” I sliced the blade across my braid, as close to my head as I could get without risking my neck. Then I dropped the slowly unraveling crimson plait on the table. “I’m going with them. End of story.”

“
O
h
, Cécile.” Sabine stood back to inspect her handiwork, giving a slight shake of her head.

“It’s just hair.” I said the words, but as I tugged the black locks hanging just above my shoulders, I knew I was lying. It was vain and foolish, but my hair had meant a lot. “It will grow back.”

“And the black will come out, I promise.” She hugged me, the long plait of my hair falling over her shoulder. It would be the other part of our deception: Sabine, disguised as me, going out onto the towers with Tristan.

I rubbed the dark that had transferred from my hair to her shoulder, and took one final glance in the hand mirror, confirming that the cosmetics she’d applied had satisfactory darkened my lashes and brows. I wore trousers and a coat that had been hastily altered to fit, and the scarf Sabine handed me completed my disguise. It wasn’t as good as troll magic, but unlike magic, it was firmly in place.

“Sabine, I need to speak with Cécile.”

I’d felt Tristan enter the room, but I took my time turning around, not entirely desirous of him seeing me like this.

“You look dreadful,” he said, stepping aside so that Sabine could leave the room, seemingly oblivious to the dark glare she cast his direction.

“I didn’t realize your feelings were so dependent on my appearance,” I said, crossing my arms.

“They aren’t.” And before I could blink, he was across the room, lifting me up and against him. “But I’m tired of disguising you and sending you off while I wait to see if you’ll return.”

“I always come back,” I murmured, gently kissing his forehead, the heat of his skin against my lips making me burn hot in other places. “I
will
always come back. And besides, you
aren’t
sending me. I…” Frowning, I straightened so I could meet his gaze, seeing his self-satisfaction even as I felt it. “You knew I’d insist on going.”

“Of course I knew,” he said. “Why do you think your brother was in such a foul temper?”

“Am I so predictable?”

“Predictable? No.” He buried his face in my neck, teeth catching at the skin of my throat. “Steadfast and constant? Yes. Brave? Always.”

He walked backwards, then fell onto the bed so that my knees rested on either side of him on the coverlet. One gloved hand gripped my waist, then slid over the curve of my hip, while the other cupped the nape of my neck, gently tugging me downward. The feel of leather against my skin irritated me for reasons I could not quite articulate, and I resisted, bracing my arm against his shoulder. “Then why the pretense?”

He turned his head, cheek pressing against the bed as he stared into the fire burning in the hearth. “In case I was wrong.”

His doubt gnawed at me, and I sensed it was for reasons other than the subject at hand. And also that he had no intention of talking about them. Sighing, I relaxed my arm and lowered myself to his chest, listening to the measured thud of his heart. I wanted to stay like this for as long as I could, content in his arms, the warm glow of the fire in my eyes. But there was no time. For us, there was never time. “Tell me.”

Tristan’s hand dropped from my waist. Lifting me up slightly, he extracted something from his coat pocket. I blinked and focused, then frowned as I saw it was Anushka’s grimoire, the latch unfastened. “You left it open after you helped Aiden,” he said. “I found it when I went back to the council chambers. There’s a spell in here that I think we could use.”

Rolling me over so we were facing each other, our legs tangled together, he held up the grimoire and illuminated the text with a ball of light. “It’s near the back,” he muttered.

Flip, flip.
His gloved thumb turned the pages, and my head felt light as though I were about to faint as I waited to see where he would stop. Because somehow, I knew what page he was looking for.