The Traitor's Daughter by Claire Robyns

Author:Claire Robyns [Robyns, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-25T22:00:00+00:00

- 15 -

The dam wall had been pulled down and once again the river churned its turbulent fury against the east ridge before rushing between the craggy headlands. The sight and sounds of the watery inferno filled me with longing for the way things were.

I was no martyr and I enjoyed the comforts of town living. Lavish dishes prepared by the castle chef. Steamy showers at the twist of a knob. Sleeping on a down feather mattress. Waking with the sunlight on my face.

But this mountain still felt like home.

After dismounting, I removed Arandite’s saddle so she could graze freely by the grassy bank. She wouldn’t run and if something caused her to bolt, she’d find her way back. This was her home, too.

Markus had ridden a stallion from the King’s stable and he looped the reins over a low-slung branch. We then walked up the rocky slope in silence, brooding on our thoughts and past.

Life here had been rough, stark, edged with danger.

Life here had been honest.

We did what had to be done to survive and we never lost sight of our honour.

Lately, I felt like I was scraping the bottom of an empty barrel for whatever scraps of honour I could find. I’d surrendered my people to the enemy. I’d delivered Jarvis and Lennard to their executioner. I’d married my father’s murderer.

The goats and chickens had been taken away, but inside, the main cave preserved that fatal night of the Battle for River Grodden. The stalagmites rose from the ground, the stalactites speared from the roof. Some of the wooden crates we used as furniture were kicked over. A basket of rotting apples gave off an overly sweet scent. A discarded blanket lay near my feet where I stood, paused on the threshold. The daylight stalked our backs, fading into the shadows and then into the inky blackness of the farther recesses.

“If you could turn back the clock,” Markus said, “would you?”

“How far?” I murmured. “To the night when I surrendered our mountain? To that morning when my father and I set off to hunt?”

To that day when I should have sliced Nathanial’s fingers and watch him plunge from the cliff to his death?

Or further still, to the last time I saw my mother, not knowing it would be the last?

I felt Markus’ eyes on me and turned my head up to him. “Is this to be the measure of my life, how far I must rewind before I reach the point of no regret?”

“I’m not judging you, Rose.”

He could, though. He could judge me, speak his mind, do and say anything because our loyalty and friendship to each other was absolute.

“But you are asking if maybe I’m content with the status quo,” I said to him. “I am Queen, after all. My position as High Chancellor has been restored to its full might and glory.”

I couldn’t keep the trace of bitterness completely at bay and Markus heard.

“You are not content,” he said, his gaze searching me. “You are trapped and refuse to see the way out.

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