The Bladed Tiger's Empress, page 23
part #1 of Claiming Her Empire Series
“Perhaps not, but I did nothing to stop it or to help when I lived in the castle. Now I can do something about it. Now I can help.”
“We thought you dead,” John said in awe, not retaining anything Marilla said. Too surprised by the princess, royalty being inside his home. How excited his wife would be… and ashamed by the way they lived. Certainly not worthy of the princess sitting on their table being stitched up by him.
And he had compared her to cattle, the princess.
John swallowed his embarrassment as he leaned forward again to continue his stitching. With Hayden there, she had simmered down and now felt every tug of the needle. Hayden watched, John allowing his presence now knowing he was of high importance though Hayden didn’t feel as if he were. He felt helpless. Useless with his princess sitting hurt and wounded before him. Following him into the forest and coming out bleeding.
“The sutures are set,” John said quietly, looking up again to the young girl perched on his table. “I can make a room for you, someplace comfortable for you to rest?”
Marilla smiled gently at him. “Thank you, but I’ll stay outside with my friends.”
“You should stay here,” Hayden said. “Most of the warriors are now in the forest following your orders, its dry here and would be much more comfortable than sleeping on the ground.”
“You said that my decisions now influence what kind of ruler my people see me as,” she reminded him and Hayden nodded slowly, waiting for the point she would surely make. “What message does it send when I sleep indoors while they sleep outside?”
Despite himself, Hayden smiled. “You’re injured. They would understand.”
“They’d worry.”
“True.”
She turned to John and smiled again. “Thank you for your offer, but I’ve grown fond of the outdoors.” John nodded as Marilla tried to twist herself off the table, grunting as pain pinched her side, throbbing in a dull ache.
Hayden moved forward and in one step was before her, offering his hand to help her down off the wooden table and gain her balance.
“I’m all right, Hayden.”
“Just let me, please,” he whispered against her hair as she slipped her hand into his and dropped down off the table. She leaned into him, then reluctantly pulled back to stand on her own. Staying as tall as she could, she walked for the front door and pushed her way out into the moonlight.
“She lives!” Vince mocked from beside Cornelia who was looking on into the forest.
“You gave the order to light the forest on fire?” she asked.
Marilla turned, and through the trees she could see light. Flickering, dancing light. “Yes,” she said simply.
“Shouldn’t be long before Kayda has them all herded together,” Vince said, smirking.
Cornelia rolled her eyes though she looked equally as unfazed by the decree. “Serves them right,” she mumbled beneath her breath.
“You should rest in the meantime, Princess,” Hayden said.
“I should stay up and make sure everyone gets back all right,” Marilla countered.
“Little good it’ll do,” Cornelia yawned. “It’ll take them several hours to round up those bandits. Might as well rest while they do what you sent them out to do.”
Hayden smiled at Marilla’s exasperated sigh.
“You’ll just drive yourself crazy being up,” Vince agreed, though he was clearly settled in to keep watch.
“Fine, but wake me as soon as they return,” Marilla ordered.
“We will,” Cornelia promised.
“Cross our hearts,” Vince snorted as Hayden and Marilla went to the nearest expanse of trees. Hayden sat down, leaning against the thickest of the surrounding oaks, lurching in such a way that he could comfortably recline. He opened his arms to her and Marilla sank into them graciously. She was exhausted. Her adrenaline wearing away to expose pain and fatigue. Too much excitement had occurred and she had barely taken one breath of Hayden’s addictive scent before she was sucked into sleep.
It wasn’t the kind of deep sleep one craves, but was instead a nightmare riddled dreamscape. She dreamt of the first time she was forced to defend herself. When she was forced to defend Hayden. She dreamt of the time the archer had trained an arrow for Hayden, when she had lunged from the bushes to stop him yet in the dream she had been too late and the arrow had been released before she could tackle the unsuspecting archer.
Her dream rewrote the history of that frightful battle. She missed her mark and rolled down the rocky hill in the archer’s stead, her head hitting a rock and her body battered on her uncontrolled descent. When she lifted her head, Hayden lay on the ground feet from her.
She scurried to him, crouching over his bloodied form. His eyes were closed unlike when she had dreamt of her father’s dead body. He looked as if he were peacefully sleeping, probably because even in her worst nightmare, she couldn’t imagine him looking dead. Her mind just couldn’t go there and stay sane.
She lifted his head into her arms, cradling him with her fingers working through his blood-soaked highlights. She held him to her, but no matter how much she screamed his name, he never responded. She cradled him in her crimson liquid stained arms and pleaded with him to open his eyes, screamed his name over and over.
She had so much to lose now, just as she had before. The difference now was her crushing awareness of it.
She jumped awake still in Hayden’s arms, his intoxicating hay and grass musk stuck in her nose, reassuring her that it wasn’t real. She had been dreaming. She had imagined his death, yet she still sweated as if it were real. It could happen, her treacherous mind reminded her. It could.
“Princess?” he asked groggily, instantly awake when he felt her stir. “Princess? Are you in pain?”
She didn’t answer at first, nuzzling instead into his chest then peeking up at his expression. Worry and doubt and guilt all mingled together into one expression she had seen too much from him since she had been injured. “I heard your voice,” she whispered.
“My voice?”
“I heard your voice as I fought, your annoying instructions ringing in my head.” Marilla snorted a laugh and tried not to flinch, but Hayden’s eyes remained hooded, his expression limp with mental pain to match her physical. He wasn’t his playful, teasing self. Not while she sat vulnerable and wounded.
I fought and followed your instructions and it would have been worse, far worse had you not taught me so please, don’t make that face. Don’t look so sad. So scared. So worried. I’m fine, because of you.
Hot tears stung her eyes as she hung her head, breaking eye contact with him but not before he saw her.
“Princess, does it hurt? Let me get Cornelia.” He moved beneath her in an effort to rise but she pressed herself firmly into him.
“It isn’t that,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I was injured, but this wasn’t your doing. You did everything right, and I just wasn’t strong enough.” She raised her eyes again to meet his. “So please, don’t blame yourself. This was the path I chose. It was my choice.”
He stared at her a moment then she felt his rough fingertips stroke along her jaw gently. “You are and always have been strong enough,” he whispered, drawing her lips to his. The kiss was comforting, and she felt herself relax into his arms, and only then did she notice the distinct stink of burnt wood.
Smoke clouded the air around them and she pushed herself up slowly to look into the forest. The flickering flames that had existed when she had first fallen asleep had spread and claimed much of the forest around the town. Kayda had kept it well contained, using it to herd the pests she had been sent to capture together. It wasn’t close to the town, and she had been conscientious of the wind’s direction before setting the small fires. They were dissipating now, mostly smoke as the warriors doused them.
John must have spread the word of their arrival because despite the sun being fully set and the moon clearly visible, the villagers who had not emerged to greet Marilla now stood outside their homes staring into the forest. Marilla was shrouded in the privacy of the tree line, comfortably hidden in Hayden’s arms where she could clearly see the light of the fire flickering across the faces of the villagers. Despite being an especially dark night, the light of the fire made it feel like day.
They looked on, all keenly focused as one at a time, bandits were dragged bound from the burning woods. “I told them to wake me as soon as they returned,” Marilla snapped, standing quickly then flinching.
Hayden stood solid behind her, steadying her calmly. “They haven’t fully returned yet. They’ve been dragging the bandits from the woods one by one for hours.”
“Everyone safe?”
“Yes. The Oakmire Bandits are cowards. They prey on the weak from the shadows, so when Kayda removed those shadows they were quick to surrender.”
A droplet of water hit Marilla’s nose and she looked up, a few more steady drips hitting her cheeks and forehead. “Well that’s lucky,” Hayden said as he looked to the sky. “Now there will be no chance of reigniting a forest fire.”
Marilla pulled her hood over her head and stepped from the cover of the trees with Hayden just behind her. As she emerged the townspeople turned to her, their eyes widening before becoming downcast in the only respect they had been taught, fear.
She stepped up to the nearest villager, a girl younger than Marilla with her hair matted and tied loosely with a filthy bandana. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” she soothed, laying a hand on the girl’s shoulder. The girl flinched at first then looked up and searched Marilla’s gentle expression. Marilla offered her a little smile and only when the timid girl returned it did Marilla turn to the rest of the villagers gazing at her in awe and wonder, raising her voice for all of them to hear. “None of you have to be afraid anymore. I am Marilla, empress of this kingdom, and I plan to march on to the castle and reclaim the throne. I have seen much suffering in my travels through the kingdom, and most of this suffering has been preventable.” She turned to the bandits who cowered in the dirt that was quickly turning to mud as the rain began to drop faster.
“Well, this is dramatic,” Marilla heard Vince murmur to Kayda, shaking rain from his hair. “Couldn’t have staged it better myself.”
Kayda elbowed him and smiled her encouragement to her princess, eyes beaming in pride which Marilla had only seen from Hayden. A respect, an admiration, an understanding resonated from her followers, and Marilla felt it.
Marilla looked at the men kneeling before her. In that position they looked neither threatening nor intimidating. They were captured heathens shaking beneath the rain’s cold water. She almost felt pity for them. They had been cruel to their fellow man, but like them they were just trying to survive.
This moment will dictate the type of ruler they see you as, she heard Hayden’s advice ringing in her ears again as she looked at them. Twenty, perhaps thirty of the Oakmire Bandits knelt with one of the temple warriors at each of their backs, waiting for their orders. They likely hadn’t captured all of them, but enough of a group to send a message.
The townspeople from this town as well as the towns where she had passed and gathered followers, were at her back watching and waiting for what she may decree. The world was silent except for the beating of the rain on the leaves, the sizzling of the embers dying in the forest.
Without turning, she spoke boldly, her voice carrying through each and every set of ears that listened intently. “None of you have any reason to fear these men any longer, and soon it is my hope that you will have no reason to fear the soldiers either.” She turned then to the surrounding crowd, her eyes resting on Hayden’s who looked as proud and caught up in her speech as the rest of the townspeople. He watched her with a hunger, a lust and yet a burning respect as he too waited for her decision. He might be surprised by what she had decided. She would allow the townspeople to reclaim their own freedom. She would let them decide.
“I release these bandits into the custody of this town,” she announced, murmurs of disbelief suddenly just as audible as the rain filled the air. “They may punish them as they see fit and inflict their own justice.”
The temple warriors stepped back from the bandits, looking on to the surrounding townspeople who stood frozen. None of them had weapons, yet the hate that sizzled between them could kill all on its own.
The girl with dreads Marilla had first addressed stepped forward, her face pinched with hate as she looked at one of the men kneeling. The bandit had seen her too, his face begging for mercy. He recognized her and she him. The two had a history, and clearly one as ugly as the outlaws themselves.
The young girl held up a hand, palm raised as if requesting something. John was the one to step forward and plant a knife into her hand. It was a modern kitchen knife, not a sharpened blade designed to kill but the girl didn’t seem to care as she lumbered towards the bandit she had chosen to inflict justice upon.
“No,” the bandit started as he pulled his chapped lips back to expose his yellowed teeth as the girl neared, “I-I’m sorry, please!”
The other bandits leaned away from him; their eyes downcast in fear as she pressed the blade to the filthy man’s throat. “Why? You didn’t care when she begged.” The man gasped as the knife dug into his skin. “Her name was Sophia,” the girl spat before inflicting her revenge.
16
Down With the Crown
Not all of the bandits were executed. Some of the townspeople stepped forward and defended a few of them for having helped them escape others’ cruelty. Others were put to death by their victims. Some of the victims couldn’t come forward to take their lives themselves, so Kayda nodded for one of the warriors to do it for them.
The trial took all night, and when morning light rose over the town, only eight men walked away with their lives.
The peasants from former towns made quick work of rallying the townspeople for Marilla’s cause. As before, they went into their homes and came out with whatever weapons they could find. Ready to march with Marilla and reclaim the castle.
“I wish they wouldn’t come,” Marilla admitted to Kayda in a hushed tone. “Some of them may never return home.”
“It’s true they haven’t been trained properly,” Kayda agreed. “But that brothel girl is right—”
“Cornelia,” Blythe snapped.
“Yes,” Kayda grumbled. “She’s right that there is strength in numbers. Some of them may die, some of us may die, but with more followers we can accomplish what you set out to do.” Kayda looked at Marilla then, her crystal gaze gentle for once. “We can put you back on the throne where you belong.”
Marilla smiled under her friend’s encouragement. They had been gearing up to leave all morning. The rain had stopped though clouds still hung threateningly overhead. The next destination would be the castle itself. The next battle would be the battle to end all battles.
The next battle would end either her life or her husband’s.
They didn’t stay within the forest long and soon took to the path, now prepared for an attack from Frederick’s soldiers. She had enough followers now that they were their own army. Some who had real weapons and others who carried only pitchforks and other farm equipment, but an army, nonetheless. They took to the path, daring any of the soldiers, no doubt, scouting to attack.
“How are you feeling, Princess?” Hayden asked her when he noticed a slight limp beginning to develop in her steps.
“Better,” she huffed, the vibrations from her steps and the constant motion pulling at her side, irritating the wound.
“Liar,” Hayden grumbled, his emerald eyes blazing as he assessed her, “There is no way you became better by straining yourself and exposing your already injured body to the elements.”
“I would never lie to you,” she jibed, and he snorted.
“I would hope not for your sake, unless you want me to punish you again,” he whispered against her ear, reaching up to steady her head, stroking her hair and kissing her temple. “You do love to provoke me, almost as much as you love to worry me.”
“My two favorite pastimes,” she teased tenderly.
“We need to discuss what the plan is,” Cornelia interjected, looking much more nervous than the warriors who surrounded her.
“I’ve given it some thought,” Marilla admitted, though she knew she would receive some pushback from her plan. Okay, a lot of pushback, but it was her decision in the end to place her own life in danger.
“And…” Cornelia prodded.
“I infiltrate alone and give the signal to attack when ready.”
“Well, that makes no sense,” Kayda snapped. “Why would you infiltrate alone?”
“How would you infiltrate alone?” Vince and Blythe both asked in union.
“If I can isolate Frederick this battle won’t last long, less will die. I can infiltrate as a handmaiden. I’m certain Edna, my old handmaiden, will help me.”
“Are you sure she’s still in the castle?” Cornelia asked with disbelief.
“No, but I do know she walks through my mother’s garden every afternoon because she believes an hour outside around that time is the key to long lasting youth.”
“Hayden, you’re being uncharacteristically quiet,” Kayda accused, flashing a glare up at him. “You can’t possibly agree with this.”
He didn’t, but he was no longer surprised by the stubbornness of Marilla’s stance, the lift of her chin as she defied him, the glow of a challenge in her iridescent eyes. His princess had become an empress, and there was no arguing with her. “Of course not, but she’s my empress,” he said dryly. “There is nothing I can say to prevent her from doing this, but I would like to suggest an addendum to this ‘plan’.”
Marilla smirked up at him, her golden-brown eyes dancing in amusement. “You know I value your suggestions, just not always enough to take them.”
“But enough to hear them,” he countered, and she nodded. “Take Cornelia with you.”
