Compromising Positions

By Andi Davis

The carriage rolled into sight, its glossy emblem flashing like a beacon on its side. A loud crack split the deceptive quiet of the forest as the front wheel fell into a concealed hole.

“Now!” Elsie yelled.

A couple dozen bodies emerged from their hiding places and descended on the conveyance and outlying guards. The first to reach the target cut the horses loose and slapped them on their way. Others engaged the few troops that filed out of the now-open door.

“Remember the objective,” Elsie shouted as she leapt into the mix, ducking under an arm and heading for the dark interior of the carriage. She’d nearly pulled herself inside when a fist came out of the shadows and slammed into her cheek. The ground rose to meet her with enough force to drive the air from her lungs. She curled into a ball to avoid being trampled while she relearned how to breathe.

A gleaming sword emerged from the vehicle, the familiar face behind it screwed up in confusion. “Elizabeth?”

Elsie gained her feet and adjusted her grip on her own sword. “Edward,” she wheezed, then cleared her throat and took a deeper breath. “I didn’t realize you were in the habit of hitting ladies.”

“I didn’t expect to be dealing with any.”

She took advantage of his momentary discomfort and knocked the sword from his hand, then pointed her blade at his neck. “No offense, Edward, but we’ll be taking the contents of that lovely carriage.”

While one of her comrades tied his hands behind his back, Edward gave her a long look. “Elizabeth, be reasonable. The King won’t allow this.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t ask his permission.”

Killian strode into the council chamber and headed for his father’s chair. Even though it had been months since the funeral, everything in the place still felt like his father’s, from the furniture to the people. Of course, all the problems that came with the crown were most certainly Killian’s now.

One of his father’s advisors straightened. “Your Majesty, the shipment of gold from the Winter Palace was ambushed. One of your men was seriously injured and two of the thieves were killed. The others absconded with the money and vanished into the forest.”

Killian kept his face impassive, but his eyes darted to the newest member of the council. The Naevian “ambassador” raised a scarred eyebrow. Avoiding the piercing gaze, Killian asked the room, “Do we know anything about these criminals?”

“Captain Randolph recognized the leader as Lady Elizabeth.”

This time he couldn’t hide the flash of exasperation.

“That woman has been inciting all kinds of trouble, Your Majesty.”

“She often does,” he muttered. Louder, he said, “Send a contingent into the forest to track them down. And send a missive to the steward of Blasgrove Estate to inquire about the account balance.”

“Yes, sire.”

Everyone rose with Killian. However, the ambassador was the first to follow him from the room. With his thick shoulders and array of weapons, it was obvious the man was no diplomat.

The Naev kept at his heels. Killian could practically feel the other man’s eyes on his back, so he took a circuitous route to his bedchamber.

Rounding a corner, his gait faltered. The ambassador was leaning against his door, using a dagger to clean under his fingernails. When he saw Killian, he straightened. “Tick tock, Highness,” the man said, coming towards him. “Tick. Tock.” He knocked into Killian’s shoulder as he passed.

Heart pounding, Killian entered his bedchamber and bolted the door. Where was he going to get more money? How was he going to pay off his father’s debts?

Rubbing his shoulder, he paced around the room before stopping at the window. Below, his people rushed about. If he didn’t find a new source of income quickly, one Naev would become thousands and his people would pay the debt with their lives.

A soft noise gave little warning before cold metal pressed against his throat.

“You really should have better security around here,” said a familiar voice.

Irritated, he knocked the blade away and turned to face his antagonist. “Some of my guards aren’t at their best at the moment.”

Elsie put her hands on her hips. “Hey, I left Edward in better condition than he did me.”

Killian spotted the bruise on her cheek, then shook his head. “The man was doing his job. Protecting the realm.”

“And I was the one protecting the people of this realm.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.” Desperation tinged his voice.

“And how is that? By making your leaders fat and happy while the rest of the world starves?”

In a soft voice, he said, “No, Elsie. By keeping our people from a war that would kill many more than the meager food rations will.”

The anger drained from her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Kings don’t normally share state secrets with rebel leaders.”

She looked away. “Yes, well… There’s never an easy answer, is there?”

“We want the same thing, Elsie.” He stepped forward and grasped her hands. “If we work together, we just might achieve it.”

Her eyes roamed over his face. “Perhaps,” she whispered. The color faded from her cheeks, highlighting the bruise.

He reached out and gently brushed his thumb across it. “Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“Have you already given the money away?” he asked.

“No. Not all of it.”

His lips held the hint of a smile as he bent and brushed them across hers. “Is there any way I can convince you to give me the rest?”

Elsie huffed out a breath before twining her arms around his neck. “Stranger things have happened.” She gave him a slow smile. “And you are pretty good at negotiating. I’m sure we can find a compromise,” she said as she leaned into him and pressed her mouth to his.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Andi Davis has loved to escape into the extraordinary realm of fiction for as long as she can remember. Now she creates her own exciting worlds as she writes fantasy across different subgenres. In the real world, she lives in California where she spends her time working on her third novel and caring for her husband and two young children.

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