[Death's Queen 01.0] Death's Queen Page 14

“Guards,” I call out as loud as I can. I don't need them, but it'd make things easier. Especially since my attacker is big. I'm glad I already I had my dagger to his throat before I realized how big he is. Not that it would have stopped me, but maybe I wouldn't have been so quick to jump on him, and the fight would have lasted longer. It would have been nice to spar with someone like I’m used to.

  My door opens, and my two guards come in, one holding up a candle.

  “Crimany,” one of them says.

  The other jumps to action, pulling out his sword and putting the blade between me and the big man. I pry myself from the attacker, who has a mean grin.

  “Are you all right, My Queen?” Afet asks.

  Before I can answer, the attacker swings around and knocks to the ground the soldier who drew out his sword. I throw my dagger at the burly man, and the blade sinks a couple inches into his back.

  He howls and barrels at me. I jump back as his sword swings my way. Afet has no such problems. He knocks the attacker's sword with his own. Soon, the sound of metal against metal fills the room.

  The first guard gets to his feet and glances at me.

  “Go for help,” I tell him.

  Not that we have much use for it. By the time assistance arrives, this fight will be long over. The guard listens, though, and runs from the room. That or he's a coward.

  The attacker doesn't seem to care about the guard going for help. He keeps at Afet, trying to get to me. I circle around with Afet as he moves to avoid being hit.

  An opening appears. I pull back my arm, ready to throw, but at the last second I stop myself. It's that or have the blade embedded in the huge man's heart. I want to let it go, but I promised myself I wouldn't kill again. Even if it's to defend my own life, I can't bring myself to break that promise.

  The moment is gone.

  “Get out of my way,” the attacker yells at Afet.

  “On my honor, I won't leave the queen.”

  “She's no royal.” The man growls and hurls himself into the fight.

  I dive down and watch the men's feet move like a dance. As soon as Afet lunges to the side, I spring up and jam my dagger into the man's thigh.

  He howls and flashes his blade my way. I dive back, but before I get there, Afet's sword blocks my attacker's.

  The huge man continues to fight, even with my blade jammed in his leg. He leans heavily on his good one, his swordsmanship more than making up for his injury. I pull myself toward the bed and grab two more daggers from under my pillow.

  Afet cries out. He's been hurt, a line of blood welling up across his arm. If I didn't know he was on my side before, now would tell me he is at least trying to appear that way. Not that I can ever be sure. I let my daggers go, one right after another, to sink into the attacker’s upper left shoulder and his sword hand.

  He drops his sword with a grunt. Even as it clangs to the floor, I'm grabbing another blade and running toward him. His good hand also has a dagger in it, but that doesn't stop me. I move right up to him, block his dagger with one hand, and press a blade to his neck with the other.

  “Don't move.” Venom oozes through my words.

  “Are you well, Your Majesty?” Afet asks.

  “Fine.” Though I wouldn't be if I hadn’t woken up.

  The attacker isn't only big but has a scowl on his meaty lips. It's not enough to scare me. Is he sent from the same person as the others, or are there up to three people who want to take my life?

  Knowing I'm not going to get an answer, I ask, “Who sent you?”

  “Someone who wants you dead.”

  Afet shoves him to his knees, his arm still bleeding. “Your queen asked you a question.”

  The man has the audacity to laugh.

  Thoughts of the torture I've been through hum to life. I'm confident I could get answers out of him, but at what cost? Could I forgive myself for becoming like Daros?

  Guards run into the room, but I only pay them enough attention to make certain they're not a threat.

  “You're going to spend a long time in the dungeon, unless you tell me who sent you,” I say to my attacker. I'm confident he won't care, but I have to try.

  “There's nothing you can do to me that'd make me admit anything,” my attacker says.

  Which makes me think of Daros sending him again. But he can't be the only cruel person out there. It could be anyone. “Take him away.”

  “I'll get him to the dungeon,” Afet says. “We'll find out what we can from him.”

  “Thank you, gentleman. That will be all.”

  The guards leave the room with little fuss from my attacker, but Afet stays behind.

  “Are you all right?” I ask him.

  “It's a scratch.”

  A guard goes to the window. “There doesn't seem to be anyone else out there.”

  I nod. That doesn't mean I'm safe, though. I've got to find out who's sending these men after me.

  Chapter 32

  Once I’m by myself again, Nash rushes in the room. “Did he hurt you?”

  He checks me over, moving his hands fervently over me. It's a pleasant sensation, until he stops.

  Stepping back, he says, “Sorry. I got carried away. I don't know what I would do if he hurt you.”

  “I'm fine. I woke before he attacked.”

  “If you didn’t…”

  “But I did.”

  His caring for me is more than I expected. I thought he enjoyed my company, but not to this extent. It makes my heart warm.

  He goes to the window and checks outside, like the guard did moments earlier. “I'll have guards I trust stationed outside your window at all times.”

  “That's not necessary.”

  He takes a step closer. “I assure you, it is. We would be lost without you. I'd be lost without you. I promise to do everything in my power to make certain you have a long reign.”

  Why is it that it's easier to believe him than it is to believe myself? “Why do you say ‘we would be lost without you?’ I haven’t done much yet.”

  “But you will. I can tell you’re going to save the people from their current circumstances.”

  How does he know that? I don’t even know that.

  “I'm going to spend the rest of the night outside your room,” he says.

  “You don't have to do that. You should get some rest.”

  “I do. I'll be fine.”

  Despite the heat blossoming through me, I say, “You're going to be falling asleep at our meetings tomorrow.”

  “If that's what it takes to keep you safe, I'll do it.”

  “I can keep myself safe.”

  He gives a half-smile. “Be that as it may, extra caution never hurt anything. I'm going to make certain you don't have to protect yourself any more than you have to.”

  This brings something to mind. “Have there been other attacks I'm not aware of?”

  He drops his gaze. “I'm afraid there have been a few more. I've interrogated the men myself, but no one is talking. Now,” Nash says, “try to get some sleep. I'll be around, so yell if you need anything. Anything at all.”

  “I will.” Possibly.

  He goes to the door and gives me another glance. “You're sure you're all right?”

  “I'm perfectly well.” Except for the shaking in my knees. No matter how many times my life is threatened, I’m always reminded of Daros.

  Nash’s gaze travels the length of me. Can he see my trembling? With a nod, he leaves and closes the door.

  I hurt.

  Why? I don't know. It's deep inside and makes me wish he didn't have to leave.

  After checking the room and seeing there are guards outside my window, I move toward my bed. I'd like to climb up to the roof, but there's going to be none of that tonight. What time is it? It feels very late.

  I plop onto my bed. It's surprising how quickly I got used to its softness. After a night like tonight, though, I can't bring myself to sleep on it. Instead, I drop down to the floor, on the side f
arthest from the window. I pull a pillow off the bed and settle it under my head.

  The night is dark. Listless. I close my eyes.

  The next thing I know, light is streaming in above the bed. Morning's here. How did I not toss and turn more? How wasn’t I riddled with fears? No nightmares. No lady in green. Nothing but soothing sleep.

  I roll over. Nash sits with his back against the wall.

  I brush the sleepiness from my eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “I was so worried about you, I couldn't stay away. I had to make certain you were safe.”

  Peace hums through me. “I have guards watching over me. Not to mention my own skills.”

  “I know. It should be enough, but the thought that something might happen to you kept haunting me. I couldn't take that chance.”

  Dark circles hang under his eyes. His gaze, though, is peaceful. More than that—something is in it. Something I can't read. “You should have gotten some sleep, but…” Can I tell him? I must. “I'm grateful for your caring.”

  “It's the least I can do.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because it's true. You're worth taking care of.”

  I flush. Nothing like this has ever been said about me before. My only value has been my proficiency at killing. That doesn't matter to him. Somehow, he genuinely cares for me.

  “Nash, I—”

  “Breakfast,” Inkga says coming in through the door. “What are you doing on the floor?”

  I give her a sheepish smile. “It's more comfortable.”

  “Hmpf.” She brings the tray over to me. I sit up, and she sets it on my lap. “Nash thought you might like this brought in here this morning, after the commotion of last night. It’s been checked over by the new court poison checker”

  “That was… thoughtful.” I am in awe of Nash.

  Utter awe.

  It's the most anyone has ever done for me—thinking of my needs. I don't know how to respond.

  “Do you need a tray, Nash?” Inkga asks, interrupting my thoughts.

  “No. I should get going.” He stands. “I have some guards I need to speak to this morning, and a prisoner who needs attention.”

  I make to move the tray. “I'm coming with.”

  “It's all right, Your Majesty,” he says. “I've got everything under control, and I will report back to you when I'm finished.”

  He bows his head toward me, nods at Inkga, and is out of the room. I stare at the closed door.

  “He is rather handsome, isn't he?” Inkga says. “I know the queen can't have relations, but he's mighty fine to look at.”

  Jem said as much about relations earlier, but I didn't pay attention. Now I wish it were otherwise.

  Chapter 33

  “Jem is set to speak with you this morning,” Inkga tells me as she pins my short locks off my face.

  Another night with no dreams or first queen. I don't mind, though. “I need to find out what's going on with the prisoners.” I can't wait for Nash's word. The thought of them down there, knowing who sent them, eats at me.

  “And you will. After you speak with Jem.”

  “Very well, then.” But I can't help but think of the prisoners, even as she finishes helping me get ready and I go to the sitting room.

  Moments later, there's a knock on my door. Inkga answers it for me, presents Jem, and then leaves us.

  Jem curtsies and picks the chair one over from mine. Perhaps we need a buffer between us, to prevent any major confrontations.

  “What have you come to speak about?” I ask.

  “Your Majesty, first, I wanted to say I'm sorry.”

  Not what I expected. “For what?”

  “I heard you were attacked again last night.”

  I wave her off. “It was only a trifle.” I'm more concerned with who's behind it.

  She opens her mouth. Closes it. Says, “Yes, Your Majesty. Still, we're all glad you're safe.”

  I'm in the mood for blunt honesty. “Are you?”

  She shrinks back into her chair. “I am. I promise you that.”

  I don't know. I get the feeling she's hiding something. “Is that all you wanted to say?”

  “No. I wanted to help teach you about court manners. Maybe speak to you about the ball.”

  I stand. “I'm not in the mindset for manners today. As to the ball—talk to Nash's sisters and Monkia about that.

  “But, Your Majesty, this will reflect on you. We need time to teach you before you're presented and coronated.”

  “Some other time. If you'll excuse me.” I stand, not caring if she will or not.

  I head to the door and open it. A grimace passes by so quick I almost miss it.

  “It's been a pleasure, Your Majesty,” she says with a curtsy.

  “I'm sure you have much more pleasant things in your life.” I will never be one of them.

  “As you say.” With those brave words, she takes off.

  Maybe she has more of a spine than I thought, even if she'd rather have the throne. Or something. I can't pinpoint what she's hiding.

  In any case, I want answers from the prisoners. I head out the door, where Wilric, Afet, and a few other guards accompany me.

  I studied the maps enough to know where the dungeons are. It takes some time to get there, with my guards trailing behind me.

  When we get to the entrance, Wilric stops me. “Are you certain you want to go down there, Your Majesty? There are many criminals down there who would like to see your downfall.”

  Many, huh? “I've been in worse places.”

  I march forward. The stairs are steep but well lit. The place smells of dampness and body odor. As I climb down the stairs, I think of what awaits. What I don't expect to find is a desk. The man sitting at it is speaking with Nash.

  The little room is dank, but well lit, with nothing in it besides the large desk. It has a hallway leading off to where I assume the prisoners are kept. It's nothing like I expected a dungeon to be, but perhaps that's because this is only the entrance.

  Nash looks up at me, eyes sparkling until he grows somber. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence, Your Majesty?”

  Just being around him makes my insides feel warm and gushy. It's not a feeling I can afford, here in the dungeon. “I want to know what progress is being made with the would-be assassins.”

  Nash's expression doesn't change, but the guard at the desk cringes.

  “We've acquired no further information from them,” Nash says.

  What I was afraid of. “Would you take me to those who have threatened my life?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” He turns and after making sure I'm following, heads deeper into the dungeon.

  We pass a good dozen empty cells. They are made of bars and have six beds apiece. The beds are bunked together in twos. Other than those and a chamber pot in the corner, the rooms are empty. If they can be called rooms.

  We get to the first occupied cell, and I don't recognize any of the faces there. A few turn and give me heed, but none say anything. Several more rooms have people in them, all unfamiliar to me.

  “Who are these people?” I ask.

  “They have committed lesser crimes, Your Majesty. Such as stealing,” Nash responds. When we come to a cell that has only one person, he stops. “This is the where your attackers start. We keep them sectioned off from everyone else.”

  “Wise.”

  “They haven't given us anything useful. We're trying our best to get answers from them while still remaining humane.”

  What would happen if we weren't humane? It doesn't matter. I won't stoop lower than I previously have. Not that it matters. I'm already blackened.

  “Let's question one of them. Pick at random.” My fingers itch to grab a dagger. It wouldn't be the first time I used it to get information out of someone, but I can do better than that. I have to.

  “You.” Nash points at the prisoner in the middle cell. “Answer the questions the queen has for you.”
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  I expect the man to ignore us, but he jumps up and bangs his hands against the bars. He's a big man—burlier than any of the guards I've seen. Bigger even than the man who attacked me last night His facial hair has grown out to be a little longer than scruff. He glares at me with his dark eyes something fierce. “You are not my queen.”

  Beside me, Nash tenses.

  I cross my arms. “Who is, then?”

  His nose flares.

  “Come on now,” I say. “If you're so set on having a different ruler, who is it?”

  “Like I'd tell you.”

  “Is it someone outside the palace?” I watch carefully for signs of recognition.

  He scowls but gives away nothing further.

  “Is it someone inside the palace?”

  He shifts his gaze the tiniest fraction.

  “In the palace, then. Someone on the council?”

  He laughs, and I have to wonder if I'm off base. If he was sent by Daros, he'd be so well trained that he could give me clues he believed I wanted. It makes me want to punch him in the face. Of course, if he was trained by Daros, that'd be unlikely to give me answers anyway. Even if he wasn't, a good assassin doesn’t reveal anything.

  I'm wasting my time.

  I curl my lips at him in disgust. “Things would go easier if you told us what you know.”

  “You have no idea what you're dealing with.”

  I want to roll my eyes but refrain. “The same could be said of you.”

  “Would you like to speak to another prisoner?” Nash asks when I step away from the cell.

  “I doubt it would do much good. Not without”—torture, and even then it's questionable—“better techniques.”

  We pass the three cells, and I expect that to be all, but then we come to another occupied one. “Who is this?”

  A muscle in Nash's jaw flexes. “Another who tried to get to you and didn't make it. His intentions were made clear by the other things he's said since capture and the way he was hiding around the palace. The others are in similar circumstances.”

  “Others? How many?”

  “Besides the three you interacted with, eight.”

  Eleven people have tried to kill me? I’ve only been Queen for a few weeks. “And no clue who sent them?”