The Blacksmith Queen (The Scarred Earth Saga, #1) - G.A Aiken Page 0,116
plan is to reinforce the town walls first,” Keeley explained. “My family will be arriving soon and I want everything to be secure for them as well.” She thought a moment. “Or maybe we shouldn’t stay here at all. I don’t want these poor people to be put through any more—”
“You do understand that you can’t save her?” the woman interrupted Keeley.
Keeley glanced at Gemma. Was the woman speaking of Straton’s former captive?
Unsure, she said, “Pardon?”
“Beatrix. You can’t save Beatrix. She was never yours to save. I know that hurts you and I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t continue to hope. She’ll only destroy you with it.”
Keeley shook her head, a little confused. “I must admit, I haven’t had that hope since she stabbed me.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, blacksmith. I was speaking to the War Monk.”
Shocked, Keeley again looked at Gemma and there were tears in her sister’s bright blue eyes. “Gemma?”
“You were right,” Gemma admitted. “I shouldn’t have left the family. I should never have left.”
Keeley put her arm around Gemma’s shoulders. “Gemma, come on. You have to know that whether you had left or stayed, Beatrix would have done all this. But you had to go. I see that now. So should you. Because now I have a much-feared War Monk by my side. To fight with me.”
Keeley wiped the tear that rolled down her sister’s blood-covered cheek. “And you are with me now . . . yes?”
Gemma nodded. “Always. Of course, that doesn’t mean I won’t punch you in the face should you deserve it.”
Keeley kissed Gemma’s temple. “I’d expect no less.”
“I have to get back to my sisters,” the woman said, turning away from Keeley and Gemma. But she stopped and added, “You know, the old jarl had a throne in there. Straton was a fan. He’d sit in it, feeling all proud of himself. As if he thought he was already the Old King. If I were you,” she said, moving away from them, “I’d get rid of the bloody thing. Tear it from the ground.” She glanced at them one last time over her shoulder. “Just a suggestion.”
The sisters watched the woman until she disappeared into the crowd of workers removing the bodies; then they jumped up and ran into the longhouse.
The centaurs were sitting at the long tables, eating and drinking ale.
“What’s wrong?” Caid asked as Keeley and Gemma rushed over to the throne.
“It’s bolted into the stone floor,” Gemma noted.
“So?”
“We’re both exhausted.” When Keeley stared at her, Gemma rolled her eyes. “Get the tools.”
* * *
The local blacksmith, apparently delighted to be free again, gave Keeley whatever she requested and she quickly returned to the longhouse.
Caid watched her and her sister start working on prying the throne from its moorings.
“What are they doing?” Laila asked. She was so tired, her face nearly dropped into her plate of food.
“They’re trying to pry up the jarl’s throne.”
“Why?”
“Why do they do anything?” Caid just wanted to get into bed. With Keeley. And sleep for the next ten weeks or so. He’d assumed she’d want to do the same thing until she started obsessing over that bloody throne.
But the Smythe women were not to be dissuaded by something as simple as exhaustion and hunger.
They worked hard, ignoring Caid’s offers of help. Finally, though, when they’d nearly gotten the thing up, Caid and Quinn joined in to heave the ridiculous throne off its moorings and away from the floor—
Gasping in shock, they all shoved the throne back into place.
Laila jerked awake again, sitting up straight. “What? What’s wrong?”
She frowned, watching their expressions, and pushed away from the table.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Something the jarl left, I guess.”
“What was that?” Together, the four of them moved the throne again.
Laila gazed down into the hole built beneath it. “Holy shit!”
“Yeah,” Keeley said, grinning.
“Is it all gold?”
“I think I see some gems in there. Look at those rubies.”
“How did you know about this?” Laila asked.
“Someone told us.”
“It’s been here all this time?”
Keeley shrugged. “I guess. But it belongs to the town, yes?” When they all just stared at her, she asked, “What?”
“You’re the queen, dumbass,” Gemma sighed out. “It’s your gold.”
“Oh. Well . . . that’s good.” She blinked and stared off, forcing Caid to look away before he started laughing. Because he kind of knew what was coming next. “But what do I do with it?”
“Run your kingdom?” Laila asked.
“Build your army?” Quinn suggested.
“Reinforce the town and this longhouse to protect yourself and all those within?” Caid offered.