The Blacksmith Queen (The Scarred Earth Saga, #1) - G.A Aiken Page 0,43

the gray mare’s side. The horse came down hard, but thankfully hadn’t hit the boy. Putting her hands on the mare’s neck, she stroked her muscles and mane.

“Easy,” she soothed. “Easy.”

With her hands still on the mare, Keeley said, “No one but me is to put a saddle on this horse. Ever. She’s here because she wants to be. She’s not my horse.”

Gemma came close but the gray mare nipped the air near her face and her sister wisely backed away. “Is this one of the wild horses near the farm?”

“It is. She has some unfinished business.” Keeley pressed her forehead against the mare’s neck. “I’m the only one who’ll handle her. If one morning we wake up and she’s gone, I’ll find another horse. Is everyone clear?”

There was muttered agreement and Keeley accepted that. She didn’t have time to explain the relationship she had with the gray mare.

“Samuel,” Keeley called out. “Help Beatrix mount her horse, please. You can leave my saddle where you stand.”

Samuel, happy not to be crushed under the mare’s hooves, ran over to Beatrix’s side and walked with her to her horse.

“You do know he’s my squire?” Gemma asked. “I don’t appreciate you giving him orders.”

Keeley started to say something to her sister but decided against it. They hadn’t even gotten on the road yet and she didn’t want to start arguing this early on their trip. Even she didn’t have the patience for that.

“I’ll let Mum and Da know we’re leaving.”

Keeley started toward the castle, briefly glancing back. That’s when she saw the look on Gemma’s face as she turned away from the horses. A glower that was, to say the least, off-putting.

“What?” Keeley asked her sister.

Gemma shook her head. “Nothing.”

But Keeley knew her gods-loving sister was lying.

* * *

It was an accident really. That Gemma just happened to look over at Beatrix when Keeley mentioned that she was going to get their parents. She’d actually been looking at Samuel, hoping he wasn’t going to fall “madly in love” with Beatrix since the boy seemed to fall madly in love with any woman who showed him the slightest interest. So she saw what no one else saw.

An eye roll. As if the idea of saying good-bye to their parents was a waste of Beatrix’s precious time.

It was a small gesture—and one all of her siblings had made before, even herself—but Gemma knew there was something different about this eye roll. Something . . . meaner. If nothing else, Gemma knew she didn’t like it. She also knew there was no point in telling Keeley about it. Not yet anyway.

When their parents came out of the castle with the children and Uncle Archie, their father was already crying.

“Father,” Gemma soothed, “we’re coming back.”

“I know. I know.” He wrapped her in one of his big hugs, something she’d missed greatly during her years of training and battle. “But I’ll still miss me girls until I see you again.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy.” She squeezed him hard. “We’ll watch out for each other.”

“I know you will.” He kissed her on the cheek and whispered, “And don’t let Keeley make you so mad all the time.”

“I’ll try,” she whispered back.

Giggling, they stepped away from each other.

Her mother was next, those strong arms of hers nearly crushing Gemma’s ribs.

“Don’t forget what we talked about,” her mother whispered against her ear.

“I won’t, Mum.”

Emma stepped back. “Love you, sweets.”

Gemma joined Keeley in saying good-bye to all the children. Beatrix just waved from the back of her horse, although she did lean down and kiss both her parents on their cheeks.

Once they were all mounted and ready, the centaurs rode off first, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of riding horses but doing it anyway. Keeley rode beside Beatrix. And Gemma brought up the rear with Samuel.

But as they neared the drawbridge, Keeley suddenly yelled out, “Hold!”

They all did, and Keeley looked over her shoulder. “Keran!” she barked out, annoyed. “Get your ass out here!” That’s when Gemma realized they’d forgotten their cousin.

When there was no immediate answer, their mother bellowed, “Keran Smythe! You answer right this second!”

“I’m here,” a voice from behind the stables announced. “I’m here.”

Keran stumbled out into the courtyard, pulling her horse behind her. They waited while she put the saddle on the large beast and took some supplies from Archibald.

She started to mount her horse but abruptly stopped, went over to the side of the stables, and threw up against the building.

All the children screamed or retched or both, then