A Soul for Vengeance

Chapter 25



Zara sat in a kitchen in the heart of Trivinus, her nerves on edge as someone knocked on the door. She counted out the knocks, listening as they formed a recognizable pattern used by members of the rebellion. That still didn’t stop Niestro from cracking the door open a sliver to see who was outside before letting them gain admittance to his home.

A couple darted in, the woman throwing her arms around Niestro’s neck as soon as the door closed. “Is it true?” she asked Niestro. “You’ve found a way to free me?”

Zara studied the woman. She was of the same build as her, even though their faces and eye color were different. Still, Zara might be able to pass for the woman as long no one looked too closely. “Are you willing to let me take your place?”

The woman’s eyes widened. “You’d want to exchange places with me? Do you understand the consequences of that?”

The light caught in the metal band around the woman’s wrist, marking her as one of the palace slaves. Zara dug her fingers into the palm of her hands to keep them from trembling. “Yes, but it’s the best way for me to gain access to the palace.”

The man stepped forward. “When my brother told me of your willingness to sacrifice your freedom for my fiancée, I was shocked. Now, I am truly grateful.” He wrapped his arms around the woman. “We can marry like we’d planned to do before the Thallians arrived.”

Their love for each other was evident from the way she threaded her fingers through his to their matching smiles when they looked at each other. A twinge of bittersweet envy tightened the spot between her shoulder blades. She’d never have something like that with Kell, but at least she knew that her mission would reunite two lovers torn apart by the invasion. “I wish you two every happiness. But, since we only have a few hours to get everything into place, I’ll have to steal your fiancée for now so we can swap clothing.”

Niestro’s brother placed a kiss on his fiancée’s cheek. “I’ll be making arrangements for us to leave the city as soon as Lady Zara’s done.”

The woman followed Zara into the tiny bedroom and unfastened her scarf, sending her dark brown hair cascading down her back like a bolt of chocolate silk. “Niestro mentioned that you had some questions for me.”

“I do.” She started working on the knotted bow holding her dress together. “For starters, I need to know your name if I’m going to pretend to be you.”

“Sagalia.”

“What is your role in the palace household?”

“I’m a kitchen maid, mostly.” She let her bodice fall off her shoulders and added to the pile of clothing. “I help prepare the food, do the dishes, make sure the head cook knows what we have in the cellars. On a few occasions, I’ve been pulled to help serve meals.”

“What can you tell me about the Triumvirate? Is there a part of the palace where they spend most of their time? Is there something only they have the privilege of eating or drinking?”

Sagalia paused, her overdress halfway over her head. “You’re not thinking of poisoning them, are you? Because they use several food tasters, all of them Ranellian.”

Zara shook her head. The poison she intended on using was no different than the poison already ingested by the food tasters. “I promise I have no intention of harming any of our people. But I need to know how to gain access to the Triumvirate.”

“They are quite fond of the King’s private reserve of sherry.” Sagalia removed the last underskirt, leaving her shivering in just her threadbare shift. “As far as I know, no one else in the palace is allowed to drink it. They’ve even placed a gate around the barrels.”

“Perfect.” Zara handed her dress to Sagalia and started donning the layers of clothes the maid had supplied. The coarse fabric itched her skin and reeked of sweat and smoke. “What else should I know?”

“You won’t be able to get past the spells they’ve cast without this.” She held out the wrist with the metal bracelet. “There’s a small locking mechanism on the side.”

“I’ll take care of that next.” Once she was fully dressed, Zara retrieved her set of picks and started working on the bracelet. “And when that’s gone, you’ll be free to leave Trivinus.”

“I won’t be completely free, not with the kokalla in my system.” Her skin grew damp, and she ran her free palm along her skirt. “Niestro said you had a plan to help me out with that.”

Zara nodded, her attention focused on the tiny keyhole that barely held her smallest pick. “I’ve given him a small supply of kokalla to take with you. It should be enough to prevent you from going into withdrawals. Once you reach Lord Fermo’s castle, a healer named Cero will help free you completely from the kokalla’s effects.”

A click vibrated through the pick, and the bracelet fell off Sagalia’s wrist. The maid rubbed the pale skin beneath it, her eyes wide. A giggle laced her words as she said, “I’m free. I’m truly going to be free.”

But when she met Zara’s gaze, her joy was cut short. “Are you certain?”

Zara picked up the bracelet and snapped it over her wrist. The sting of magic reminded her of Kell’s pendant. Whatever spell had been cast on it, it hadn’t been broken by transferring the bracelet from one owner to another. “No one else can do what I need to do.”

For the next hour, Sagalia filled her in on the inner workings of the palace now that the Triumvirate resided there, who the head servants were, the changes the Thallians had made to the castle’s architecture. Zara made mental notes and filed them away for later. When they finished, she wrapped the scarf around her curly hair and turned around. “Do you think I’ll pass for you?”

“Well enough.” Sagalia smiled. “I hope one day we’ll meet again so I can thank you in a better way.”

“So do I.” It was time to put the next piece of her plan into action. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ll have to borrow your fiancé for a bit. After all, he normally escorts you back to the palace on your day off, right?”

“I know he’ll be back for me as soon as he can.” She hugged Zara. “Please, be careful. I wouldn’t dream of messing with the Triumvirate. I’ve seen enough of their evil to last me a lifetime.”

“I’ll be as careful as I can be.” So much was riding on her carrying out her plan perfectly. She had to build up their tolerance to the kokalla slowly. If she gave them too much right away, the side effects would alert them to its presence. But if she didn’t have them on a high dose by the time Kell and the armies arrived, they still might be able to function well enough during their withdrawals to be a threat. She had four weeks, by her best estimation, to bring down the Thallian rulers.

She grabbed the smallest pouch of the kokalla powder she’d smuggled into the city and strapped it to her inner thigh. “Let’s go.”

Niestro’s brother barely said three words to her as he walked her back to the palace, but when they arrived at the main gate, he kissed her cheek like an affectionate suitor. “May the Lady Moon bless your endeavor,” he whispered.

She squeezed his hand. “And yours.”

Zara held her breath as she passed through the gate. A veil of magic surrounded her, crackling along her skin. But, the magic of the bracelet kept her safe, and she made it past her first obstacle.

The courtyard was packed with servants. It was the one day of the week where the castle slaves were allowed to leave for a few hours to visit with friends and family in the city. The Thallians didn’t have to worry about the slaves not returning—the kokalla took care of that. No sane person wanted to go through the withdrawals, and they willingly returned to their masters in time for their next dose.

She entered through the kitchen and made her way to her quarters according to Sagalia’s directions. The attic room was damp and drafty, filled by two long rows of narrow beds for the female slaves. Her bed was the seventh one on the left. She laid her cloak on it and reported to the kitchen for her assignment.

The steward barely gave her a second glance as he inspected the returning slaves. He seemed more interested in number rather than the people. Once he was satisfied they’d all returned, he dismissed them with a wave, instructing them to report back to duty.

One of the cooks grabbed Zara by the arm and pulled her over to the massive fireplace where several sides of meat roasted. “You’re the one who switched places with Sagalia, aren’t you?”

Zara eyed the flames, wondering if she’d accidentally have to shove the cook into them. Who else had Sagalia spoken to? “Are you going to tell on me?”

The woman shook her head. “I think you’re mad to do it, but I’ll help you slide into her duties. Now start polishing those platters for dinner.”

Zara threw herself into her work. Once the dinner platters were polished, the meals were placed on them for the Triumvirate and carried up to their private dining room along with a decanter of the sherry Sagalia had described. Then the slaves ate their meal before starting the cleanup for the night. Her stomach churned with the first bite of the meal, the knowledge that all the slaves’ food had been tainted with the kokalla keeping her from enjoying the meal. Even if she survived bringing down the Triumvirate, she’d face days of withdrawals afterwards.

By the time she finished her duties for the night, her body ached in ways she never imagined. She’d rather battle a hundred Thallians with her sword and crossbow than have to polish one more piece of silver. She dozed for a few hours on the hard wooden plank that served as her bad before sneaking back down into the kitchen.

Almost a dozen barrels of sherry sat behind the iron bars that enclosed them. Zara easily picked the lock and turned the open barrel on its side, removing the tap that occupied the bunghole. Then, after checking several times to make sure she was alone, she poured the pouch of kokalla into the barrel.

Zara ran through the kitchen, holding the heavy pot of steaming soup out in front of her. It was time to serve dinner to the Triumvirate, and they were down to the last seconds. She poured the soup into the silver tureen she’d spent an hour polishing this morning. “Where’s Maria?”

“She twisted her ankle,” one of the other maids replied, squatting next to the tearful woman. “Someone else will have to bring the food up.”

“Sagalia, you do it,” Liverna, the head cook ordered as she hurried to add the finishing touches to the meal. “Get on the lift with the soup now so the Triumvirate won’t be kept waiting.”

Zara’s heart pounded. She’d been in the castle for almost two weeks, and she’d yet to lay eyes on the Thallian leaders. She’d managed to continue tainting their sherry, retrieving a larger bag week after week from the secret compartment in Niestro’s home where she’d hidden her supply. The dangerous trips to the cellar in the dead of night always left her nerves frazzled, but the knowledge that she was helping Kell soothed her by the time she returned to her bed. She offered a quick prayer to the Lady Moon they wouldn’t see through her ruse.

The Thallians had added a series of lifts throughout the castle that carried objects and people up and down the towers without having to use the stairs. Two men cranked the cog-wheeled mechanism that powered the open box-like structure from one floor to the next. Zara stepped into it with the soup and focused on pretending to be a demure servant.

Another slave ushered her into the Triumvirate’s private dining room when she reached their floor. “Just in time. I hate it when they get upset about us being late.”

Disobedient or disappointing slaves were all treated to the same punishment—two days without meals. The hunger alone would be a deterrent for most people, but withdrawal from the kokalla was what the slaves all feared.

Zara entered the room, all too aware of the stains on her apron and the sweat soaking her scarf along her forehead. Maria was a personal maid to the Triumvirate—she never looked as dirty and disheveled as Zara felt right now.

“Who are you?” Decindra, the lone female member of the Triumvirate asked. “Where’s our normal maid?”

Zara lowered her eyes and set the soup on the serving table. “Maria twisted her ankle,” she replied, adjusting her accent so she sounded as common born as the other slaves. “Cook sent me so you wouldn’t be kept waiting.”

Judging by the wrinkle-nosed sneer on Decindra’s face, Zara might be getting her first taste of the withdrawals by this time tomorrow night. Her stomach flopped as she ladled the soup into the fine china bowls for the liveried butler to carry to the table.

“Calm down, Decindra,” the younger man, Barsaulus, said. “Even with all the dirt, this girl’s prettier than the other one. Perhaps it’s time we replace Maria with someone new.”

The flop in her stomach quickly turned into a nauseating knot. She’d heard whispers around the kitchen that Thallians would never force themselves on one of the slaves, but the girls who willingly entered their beds got preferential treatment. Girls like Maria.

And based on the way the youngest member of the Triumvirate was looking at her, he was inviting her to do the same.

Which was a far cry from the cold stares the other two members of the Triumvirate were giving her.

“If you are sent to serve us again,” the older man, Ermane, stated in a voice as hard as his glare, “please make sure you look respectable enough to be in our presence.”

Her cheeks burned. A year ago, she’d been the one being served. A year ago, she’d sat at a table like this, dining on delicacies and drinking fine wine. A year ago, she’d worn clean, butter-soft wool and silk dresses with dried mountain lilacs sewn into the seam, not the scratchy, stinky coarse linen she wore now. She was so removed from the lady she’d once been that her parents would probably be ashamed to claim her as their daughter if they were still alive.

Remember why you’re here. Remember what your mission is.

She bowed her head to them and scurried back to the lift. Let someone else deliver the rest of the meal if she was too sullied for their liking. The only good thing from the experience was the fact they all had small glasses of sherry in front of them.

She was elbow deep in soapy water washing the night’s dishes when she learned that Barsaulus had requested a change in their private maid to her.

Zara inhaled slowly, taking in the consequences of the news with the air. She’d be closer than ever to the enemy, able to overhear their conversations and possibly pass on information to her brother and Kell. She’d also become subject to their scrutiny several times a day, not to mention be under pressure to warm Barsaulus’s bed as thanks for the elevation in her status. She’d rather slit his throat while he slept than let him touch her.

As she released her breath, she wondered if this would become a blessing or a curse.

A new wave of longing engulfed her when she crawled into her bed that night. Right then, she missed the steadiness of Kell’s arms more than ever. She wished she could whisper her fears to him and have him ease them with a few words and a kiss, letting her know everything would work out in the end. But until she completed her mission to bring down the Triumvirate, she had no hope of ever knowing that peace again.