Year of the Reaper

A skeleton lay in front of the ruins, what remained of Commander Terranova. The authorities had searched his home in Elvira and discovered a household in mourning and disarray, for the commander’s wife had been pulled from the harbor, drowned, a finger severed cleanly from her left hand. For his actions against the queen, his estates had been forfeited, everything he had once owned returned to the crown.

Cas left the horse and went to search what was left of the castle. He found them together. Two skeletons on blackened earth, one large, the other small, their arms around each other. Princess Jehan and the man who had loved her, suffered with her. Cas had never learned his name.

Cas turned slowly, looking for a spirit with white hair and a face older than her years. He said, “Princess Jehan?”

His words were met with silence. Over and over he tried, calling out her name. No one answered. Even the birds had gone.

Cas searched the rest of the castle and then the outlying areas. He located three more skeletons a quarter of a mile away. Princess Jehan and the men who had done her bidding were all accounted for. Cas could not say what the future held, but for now, the queen’s secret was safe.

He dug two graves beside the castle. In the first, he buried the men, save one. In the second, he laid Princess Jehan with her guard, taking care to bury them as they had died. Arms around each other. Cas did not know why he could not see her spirit. He hoped her absence meant she had found some measure of peace.

Before he departed, he retrieved three gold coins from his saddlebag—Zacarias, god of beginnings and endings—and left them on her grave.





37




Cas passed the winter at Palmerin Keep. Five months of snow and solitude. He no longer woke in the night, and he rarely jumped at shadows. His own or others, living or dead. He felt himself growing stronger, and he wondered if Lena would recognize him now, or if she had forgotten him completely, the strange, quiet lord from the mountains.

The city kept him busy. He met with the city inspector, funded repairs for the streets, the aqueduct, the bridges, the baths. He oversaw the addition to the amphitheater. And he spent as much time as he could training with Captain Lorenz. In the library he studied maps, imagining where his brother could be.

At the first signs of spring, he asked Father Emil to ride with him beyond the city gates. The priest, who had never been invited anywhere by Cas before, readily agreed. The journey took them to a single-arch bridge where a toll keeper’s cottage stood desolate and abandoned. Since Cas had last seen it, the thatched roof had fallen in completely. The priest shook his head at the sight. After tethering their horses to a tree, Cas untied the wooden cross strapped to his saddlebag. He led the priest to the small clearing where he had buried Izaro last autumn. “I buried him there.” Cas pointed. “But I wanted to leave a marker. And I thought you might say a prayer.”

“Certainly I will.” Father Emil waited until Cas had pounded the cross into the dirt and grass before asking, “Will you join me?”

Cas hesitated. That he even considered prayer surprised him. “Not today, Father.”

Cas waited for him by the bridge. He leaned against a post, watching the water go by, listening to the birds in the trees.

“I didn’t think you’d come back.” Izaro stood beside Cas. Nearly solid one moment, barely visible the next.

Cas glanced at him, then turned back to the river. “Yes, well. I felt sorry for you.”

A rumble of laughter. “Not sorry enough. Who is that infant priest you’ve brought to pray over me?”

“The only one I have.” From where Cas stood, he could just make out the priest kneeling before the cross. “He isn’t bad.”

“What infant is?” Izaro rested his elbows on the railing. “Did you ever find that horse thief of yours? The girl?”

“I did.” Just thinking of Lena hurt his heart.

“What happened to her? Sent her to the dungeon, hm? The gallows?”

“I gave her the horse.”

Izaro turned to Cas, appalled, before looking past him. “Who’s this, then?”

Riders came through the trees. Ten men in black, along with a boy, about twelve. Cas did not recognize them. They stopped at the far end of the bridge. One called out, “You’re on private lands, stranger. State your name and business at once.”

Cas, eyebrows raised, looked at Izaro, who shrugged.

Cas stepped away from the post. “My name is Cas, second lord of Palmerin. My lands are just there.”

“Oh!” The boy broke into a smile. He started toward Cas on horseback even as the man who had first spoken called him back in exasperation. The boy ignored him, stopping several feet away from Cas before jumping off his horse. He beamed up at him. “You’re Lord Cassia! The queen’s man!” Two men came to stand beside him.

Cas smiled down at the boy. “I am. And who are you?”

“Ferrer, sir. Lord Ruben was my uncle. Well, my uncle six times removed. I never met him. I’m here to claim my inheritance.” His sunny smile faded as he regarded the dilapidated cottage. He added dispiritedly, “Such as it is.”

The man who had spoken bowed. “My name is Cosme, Lord Cassia. I’m Lord Ferrer’s guardian and steward. Forgive my wariness earlier. We’ve been on the road many days now and have learned to be cautious of strangers.”

“Understood. This is Father Emil,” Cas said as the priest navigated the slope and joined them. “Your toll keeper, Izaro, was buried here last autumn. We came to add a cross by his grave and to say final prayers.”

The newcomers thanked them. Young Lord Ferrer crossed himself, which earned him an approving smile from Izaro.

Cas said, “It’s not as bad as this.” He indicated the cottage. “Your estate has been looted, like many others, rather severely. But the buildings themselves are sound. You’re welcome to stay at Palmerin Keep until the repairs are done.”

Both the boy’s and the steward’s faces flooded with relief. Lord Ferrer said, “We’re very grateful. Lady Analena said you would welcome us, but we didn’t want to presume.”

Cas stared at him. “You’ve spoken to Lena?”

“She traveled with us from Elvira,” the boy informed him, and for the first time in five months, Cas felt his heart beat in his chest. “She told us all about your adventures, and how you saved the queen and the prince. Twice! She said you were handsome and brave and tall as a tree. I know everything about you! You’re exactly as I pictured.”

“My lord,” the steward said ruefully to the boy. “I’m not certain the lady will appreciate your candor.”

“Handsome, eh?” Izaro said. “I don’t see it.”

“Where is she?” Cas asked.

“Riding to Palmerin,” the steward answered. “She went off on her own by the aqueduct. She said she knew the way.”

Cas looked at Father Emil, who smiled and said, “Go. I will show them the way back.”

Cas could have kissed him. Izaro raised a hand in farewell. Cas told his new neighbors he would see them very soon, and then he ran for his horse and rode off.

Not long after, he found his old mare. She stood off to the side of the road near a copse, one he knew well. He had killed a lynx here many months ago. He had rescued a girl from a tree.

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