Chapter Seventeen
Sienna hadn’t spoken at all since they’d mounted their horses and bolted across the plains toward Dale’s Peak. Though traveling in the open, it was the wiser call. They’d made good time, stopping only long enough for the horses to rest and feed. He’d tried to offer her the leftover rabbit or a crust of bread, but she’d refused anything to eat.
Her eyes had taken on that forlorn look of one who’d seen the true darkness of the world—man’s cruelty toward his fellow man. And he couldn’t blame her. He’d seen this kind of bloody horror himself in decades past. Not on the scale of Kellswater, but never had it been perpetrated by the very ones who were supposed to be protecting the people. The betrayal of his own kind against humanity twisted his gut and was also responsible for the look of hopelessness in Sienna’s eyes.
The church tower of Dale’s Peak came into view as they wound higher into the foothills of the Bluestone Mountains. They slowed their horses to a trot.
“Who’s our contact?” asked Sienna, her voice rusty from lack of use and most certainly from the tears she’d shed throughout the day.
He’d wanted to console her, but there was no time and little he could say. She needed to release her emotions and come to terms with what they’d seen on her own. At least until he could find a private moment alone with her.
“Her name is Sarah Winchester,” he answered as they leveled out on the even slope where Dale’s Peak sat. “A widow who runs a boarding house on the south side. We should be able to find it easily from this direction, once we board the horses.”
Sienna gave a stiff nod. The energy of a busy, populated town filled the air as they drew closer, and the pointed rooftops of well-crafted buildings came into view. The sun had already slipped beyond the horizon, coloring the sky lavender and the landscape in dusty pink. It would have been a beautiful sight on any other day. But not with the stink of death and the screams of innocents echoing in one’s mind.
A farmer hauling his empty cart back out of the town tipped his hat to them as they passed. Nikolai motioned for Sienna to stay close. They’d put many miles between them and Kellswater, but he was still on high alert. Now that he understood the queen’s game and the reason for the vanishing villages on Friedrich’s map, he knew they were safe enough for the time being. Her Legionnaires would be busy carting those poor people wherever she was holding them prisoner and making the men into vampires. She’d apparently enlisted her son Dominik to assist in the dirty job.
Nikolai couldn’t imagine that the prison where they were building this army was at the Glass Tower, for Riker would’ve seen them. He must get this information to Arabelle and Marius as soon as possible. And to Friedrich.
They wound into town, clip-clopping over cobblestone as a few people bustled here and there, paying no heed to the two new strangers. The advantage of visiting a larger town was that there were always strangers. And few people took notice of them. A sturdy painted sign read Hanover Stables to the right. He pointed for Sienna. “There.”
She nodded and took the lead, turning Astrophel into the stable yard off the cobblestone street and onto the hay-strewn dirt. Sienna stopped at the mouth of the stables and hopped down, petting Astrophel along her muzzle and crooning soft words to her. Nikolai dismounted and wound the reins over a hitching post outside the stables. He was about to call out when a short, stout man with dirt smudged on his pants and shirt who had a clean, kind face stepped out of the entrance of the stables.
“Mornin’,” he said with a nod, wiping his hands on a rag.
“Good morning,” said Nikolai. “We were hoping you might have room to board our horses for the night.”
The man whistled, eyeing Ramiel and Astrophel and taking a step closer. “Now these two are beauties. I haven’t seen Arkadians in a few years.” He stepped forward and ran a hand along Ramiel’s neck with a rough pat. He whickered and tossed his head, but then seemed to accept the man’s affection as quickly as he’d rejected his presence. “Rarely do see them this far north.”
“Aye. We’re on our way to visit friends, but won’t be long.”
The sharp-eyed man raised his brow. “Not much to go on to if you’re passing through Dale’s Peak.”
Nikolai didn’t reply. When the stableman realized he wasn’t going to get any further explanation, he stepped up to Nikolai, who was a full foot taller than him, and offered his hand. “Don’t mind me. The name’s Bart Hanover. I don’t need to know where you’re going or where you’ve been. I can tell by the looks of these animals that you’re good people.”
“Oh really?” He shook his hand. “And how is that?”
“Fine clean coats from regular grooming, well muscled from being well fed, horseshoes well shod.”
Nikolai arched a brow. “I’ve seen many a cruel man treat his horses with the utmost care.”
“Aye. ’Tis true. But then the animals are skittish and distrusting.” He stepped toward the head of Astrophel, finally drawing Sienna’s attention. She’d been wrapped in her own world until the stableman stepped forward. “Oh, now isn’t she a pretty girl?” he said, patting Astrophel on her crown above her eyes.
Sienna smiled for the first time since the incident this morning. “She is, isn’t she?”
“Aye. She seems to love her owner, too.”
Sienna didn’t correct him, but simply stroked Astrophel’s muzzle. Astrophel’s eyes drooped and blinked heavily at their attention.
“All right then,” said Bart, turning to Nikolai. “The cost is three sovereigns per horse per night. That includes a warm paddock, fresh hay and water, and one bucket of oats. Now if they stay past noon tomorrow, that’ll be another sovereign a piece for the use of the paddock through the day. And another six for both of them for lodging by nightfall.” He unwound Ramiel’s reins. “And whose name should I put these under in the register?”
Nikolai pulled his bag of coin from the saddlebag. Rather than handing over six sovereigns, he withdrew a few for himself and tucked them in his pocket, then handed over the rest in the pouch, knowing good and well such an amount was more than extravagant. The stableman peered inside and stared.
“That should take care of us for tonight as well as boarding without a name, should it not?”
Bart looked up with a smile. “This will do fine, Mr. Smith.” He stuffed the bag of coin inside his loose pants pocket, then took hold of the reins.
“Could you direct us to the Winchester Boarding House?” asked Nikolai, moving alongside Sienna.
“Oh, aye. Sarah’s place is less than a block that way and across the street. Green shutters and a green door. Can’t miss it.” He ambled into the barn, murmuring softly to Ramiel and Astrophel, who followed him obediently.
Nikolai crooked his arm for Sienna. “I believe they’re in good hands.”
She forced a smile, but it made her look sadder than wearing none at all. He laid his hand over her gloved one at his elbow.
“Let’s get you to the widow’s place. There you can rest till our recruit meeting.”
She said nothing and so he led her swiftly up the paved street. At dusk, there were more than a few people milling about in town, but none of them took notice of two strangers. In a town this size and as the hub of so many smaller villages, there would be a constant flow of unfamiliar faces. Still, he wanted to get off the streets in case there were any Legionnaires about.
Nikolai spotted the widow’s boarding house at once. Where most buildings were constructed in the gray stone so easily found in this region and were left in their natural state, the widow had painted her stone bright white with wooden shudders on the first and second story windows painted a gleaming meadow-green like the front door. Above the door hung a brass plate inscribed in a swirling script, Winchester Boarding House.
Nikolai guided Sienna up the front steps with a hand on her back. He shut the door, jingling the bell hanging above it, and closed off the noisy street. They stood in the entry and surveyed the well-kept house. Clean wooden floors, white lace curtains in the windows surrounding a long table that seated ten, a staircase with a red-and-gold carpet lining the stairs leading to the second floor.
Light footsteps from a room beyond the dining area drew closer. A petite woman—primly dressed in a blue frock and white apron—walked in, examining them both in one quick perusal, then plastered her professional smile in place.
“Good afternoon. Are you looking for a room for the night?”
“We are,” said Nikolai.
Sienna sagged like a wilted flower next to him from the travel, but more from the horror they’d witnessed in Kellswater.
“Right this way, please.” She ushered them back into the foyer near the door where a roll-top desk sat near the entry. She lifted a bound book and opened it. “I’ll just need you to sign the registry, please.”
“Pardon,” said Nikolai. “But we are friends of your friends in Hiddleston.”
She paused, resting the registry book flat to her bosom, arms crossed. She stared keenly at Sienna, whose head was turned to the room.
“Will you remove your hood, my lady?” asked the widow.
Sienna finally seemed to recall where she was. She pulled down the hood, revealing her fiery auburn hair, loose and wild from the day’s journey. The widow smiled and tucked the registry back in a drawer of the desk.
“Mr. Black said not to expect you for another week. Follow me, please.”
Mr. Black had been the code name for all contacts to use to keep the operation as covert as possible. Of course, Deb in Lobdell hadn’t bothered. But the widow was obviously a by-the-book lady. Rather than lead them up the stairs as he’d expected, she walked around the staircase. Nikolai took Sienna by the hand. She accepted his guidance, though she seemed so far away. The widow continued on through a prim and comfortable parlor, across a gold carpet, and through another door that led down a narrow hallway. She finally stopped at the end of the short corridor and opened the door with an ornate key.
The three of them stepped through to a room facing the back alley, not the front of town. One bed was covered in the widow’s signature green and gold, as well as the carpet near the fireplace. A rocking chair sat next to a side table and porcelain lamp with a lacy white shade. She handed Nikolai the key.
“This will do quite well for you, I believe. You are on the first floor and may leave without anyone’s notice if need be.” She nodded toward the window, then stepped closer and whispered the rest. “I have tenants in the upstairs rooms and this will keep prying eyes from your notice. I would make contact with Reginald if I were you. We weren’t expecting you so soon.”
Nikolai wouldn’t explain they were so early because they had to bypass the two villages between Lobdell and Dale’s Peak. No need to alarm anyone else conspiring with the Black Lily.
“Reginald?” asked Sienna dazedly. “I thought she was our contact?” She directed her question at Nikolai.
“I am,” the widow answered for herself. “But I cannot accommodate so many for the gathering.” She glanced around, though there was no one to hear them in this part of the house. “There are many here in Dale’s Peak who are sympathetic to the cause. Mark my words on that score.” She turned for the door and paused at the exit. “When dinner is ready, I’ll bring a plate to you, my dear. You look worn out from your journey.”
She shut the door behind her. Sienna removed her cloak and dropped it onto the rocking chair, the red swathe of fabric on the inside flaring bright. Then she walked over, sank onto the bed, and began removing one of her boots.
Nikolai guided her by the shoulders to lie down. “Let me do that.”
She submitted without protest, allowing him to remove her boots and stockings. He lifted the folded white blanket on the end of the bed and draped it up to her shoulders. She’d turned on her side, looking like a child with both hands tucked under one cheek. Nikolai sat on the edge and combed her loose locks away from her face, wishing he could take away the terrors of Kellswater.
“I am sorry, my sweet,” he said, brushing the backs of his fingers along her soft cheek. “I wish you hadn’t seen that.”
“I don’t. I need to see what we’re fighting for, don’t I?” Her chin quivered. “But those children. Those families.” She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear slipping over the bridge of her nose to the pillow.
“I know, my love,” he whispered. His pulse leapt at the slip of tongue. He did indeed mean the words with his whole heart. My love.
Her eyes popped open. He continued in his soft timbre. “The queen is immersed in darkness, living only for power and blood. But she will pay for her evil.” He wrapped his fingers loosely around her neck, brushing a thumb along her jaw.
Sienna wrapped her hand over his. Having removed her gloves when they walked in the room, he gloried in the feel of her bare skin on his. When she caressed him, it was the closest to divinity he’d ever known. Immortality shrank before the touch of heaven that was Sienna.
“Get some rest,” he urged.
Tilting her chin up with his forefinger, he leaned forward and grazed a soft kiss to her lips, lingering without demanding more, simply letting his lips lay atop hers in a promise of strength and protection.
“I won’t be long.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He smiled, his heart aching to take away all of her pain. “And when I do return, I will replace this pain on your heart with pleasure.”
She shivered and laced her fingers with his, then pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
The look in her eyes could’ve slain many a man from sheer desire. But she didn’t look at any man that way. Only him.
He checked to be sure the window was bolted. “Lock the door when I leave.”
“I will,” she said, offering him the first smile he’d seen since before Kellswater.
With that, he was out the door. He waited in the corridor until he heard the metallic click of the bolt locking into place, then he set out to find Reginald. After tonight, he’d take her swiftly back to Hiddleston then on to Cutters Cove where she’d be safely away from the queen and her men.
A tingle of dread shot down his spine, remembering Queen Morgrid atop her war horse in full armament, watching and gloating over the slaughter and enslavement of Kellswater like the queen of the damned. Nikolai felt the pricking need twisting in his gut to get Sienna far, far away.