The reckoning, p.1
The Reckoning, page 1
part #3 of The Hundred Series
Contents
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Character List
Places
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Thank You
Also by the author
About the author
THE RECKONING
The Hundred - Book 3
Vanessa Nelson
THE RECKONING
The Hundred - Book 3
Vanessa Nelson
Copyright © 2020 Vanessa Nelson
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction.
All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Reproduction in whole or in part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.
Click or visit:
http://www.taellaneth.com
For my four-legged companions, past and present.
Love and head scratches for you all.
Character List
Note: to avoid spoilers, some names may have been omitted, and some details left out.
Adira - human, senior head Sister in the Stone Walls
Annabelle - human, one of the Hundred
Baldur - Yvonne’s horse
Brea - goblin, wife to Thort and mother to Jesset
Brias - wulfkin, second in the range at Ilfton
Cressin - human, family name of tanners, from Silverton
Dundac - human, one of the Hundred
Elinor – human, deceased at start, formerly of the Hundred
Ella - wulfkin, in Sephenamin’s range
Firon - human, one of the Hundred
Frida - human, dressmaker, from Fir Tree Crossing
Grayling- human, head of law keepers at Fir Tree Crossing
Guise - goblin
Handerson - human, potter, from Fir Tree Crossing
Idal - human, apprentice Hunar
Jaalam - goblin, one of the Karoan’shae
Jesset - goblin, Brea and Thort’s daughter
Joel - wulfkin, one of Yvonne’s wards and Mariah’s brother
Kraig – human, senior law keeper, reporting to Grayling
Lothar - Yvonne’s horse
Mariah - wulfkin, one of Yvonne’s wards and Joel’s sister
Mica - human, one of the Hundred
Modig - mixed heritage, hotel manager in Three Falls
Pieris - human, one of the Hundred
Pridthan, goblin, Helgiarast’s older son
Rebecca - human, from Hogsmarthen
Renard - wulfkin, famous horse trainer
Sephenamin – wulfkin, cerro in Fir Tree Crossing, owns The Tavern
Sillman - human, one of the Hundred
Suanna - human, one of the Hundred
Thort - goblin, Brea’s husband, Jesset’s father
Varati - goblin, one of the Karoan’shae
Yvonne - human, one of the Hundred, legal guardian of Mariah and Joel
Places
Abar al Endell – southernmost city, at the edge of the desert, near the Forbidden Lands
Coll Castle - part of Kingdom of Valland
Fir Tree Crossing - busy trading town on the Great River
Forbidden Lands - desert territory beyond Abar al Endell
Hogsmarthen - closest city to the Sisters in the Stone Walls, on the Great River (upriver from Fir Tree Crossing)
Kelton - artists’ town on the Great River between Hogsmarthen and Fir Tree Crossing
Royal City - home of the Valland Kings, furthest upriver on the Great River
Silverton - small trading town upriver from Fir Tree Crossing
Stone Walls - home of the Sisters in the Stone Walls, a high-sided mountain valley not far from Hogsmarthen
Three Falls - city state near Valland
Valland - largest Kingdom in the lands, holds the Royal City, a lot of the Great River and Coll Castle
CHAPTER ONE
Even with the sun warming her shoulders and back, safe in the familiar surroundings of the house and garden, Yvonne shivered slightly, mind wandering from the task for brushing down her horse.
Wondering, for perhaps the hundredth time, if she had put herself in unnecessary danger.
She had accepted an invitation from Helgiarast se’laj Krejefell, the goblin queen, to attend the goblin court. The invitation to attend, as Helgiarast’s personal guest, had been written in the lady’s own hand, a consideration that Yvonne could not ignore.
Goblin politics could be deadly. Even for those raised among the Karoan’shae, used to the intricacies of the high houses.
It was no place for a lowly human, with a habit of speaking her mind. Yet, she had agreed to go.
It was not wise to offend Helgiarast se’laj Krejefell.
That was reason enough for anyone to go.
It was not the only reason Yvonne had agreed to go.
Nor was her curiosity, even though it was powerful. It was rare that any humans got a glimpse behind goblin borders, let alone into the heart of the Karoan’shae.
She might only admit it in her own mind, but her reasons for choosing to go were the ties between her and Guise, Helgiarast’s son. Ties that were many-layered and too complicated to be covered by a single word, or sentence. A bond she did not yet fully understand. The push and pull that was Guise, familiar from the years they had known each other. The knowledge that if she turned away from him, she would not see him again, and the hollow pain that knowledge brought. Her life would have far less colour in it without him. And there was the clawing jealousy she had felt in Willowton that had made her realise that, no matter that Guise had made the offer, things could not stay the same between them. She had to move forward, from her current place of safety, to somewhere unknown.
They had reached an understanding, of sorts, in Willowton. That they could not stay where they were, even though a great part of her wanted to stay where she was. To maintain her good working relationship with Guise, that had served them both well over the years. That was familiar, and safe.
But that was not possible. And there was the other part of her, the smaller part, that was curious about what might happen. What was ahead of her if she left everything that was known and familiar.
Goblin courtship could last years, Guise had told her. There was no need to rush.
And so, she had agreed to his mother’s invitation. To attend the Karoan’shae, outside their own lands, at the nearby goblin Palace. There was to be a gathering, a rearrangement of allegiances to confirm a new head of house. The old lord, someone who Guise had deeply respected, had died unexpectedly, leaving a vacancy.
Yvonne had no very clear idea of what this confirmation might involve. Lots of discussion, she suspected. It was just one of many details that were missing.
What she did know, from many, many tales over the years, was that the Karoan’shae was an unforgiving place. Goblins were a fierce, and proud, people, and bloodshed was common.
And, still, she had agreed to go. A personal guest of the current star of the Karoan’shae, under Helgiarast’s protection.
She put the brush down, mind still turning. When she had accepted the invitation it had seemed a sensible thing. As the time for her to travel had drawn nearer, the worries had grown.
Lothar distracted her, bumping his nose into her arm, demanding attention.
He half-closed his eyes in bliss as Yvonne scratched behind his ear, tilting his head to a better angle, more like an overgrown house pet than the highly-trained warhorse that he was. Yvonne dug her fingers in a little more and he blew out a contented breath.
His dull brown coat was sprinkled with grey, particularly around his soft nose. A venerable age for a horse, long overdue his retirement, even if he would not agree with her. The deep wound across his shoulder that had meant she had to leave him behind on her last journey was healed, white hairs growing to cover the scar. The quick and complete healing was thanks to the careful attention from her children, Mariah, and Joel. And then personal attention from Renard, the famous horse-trainer himself.
If Lothar had been a younger horse, she would have been building up his fitness again with short rides. As it was, he would not be coming on any more long journeys with her. Instead, he would get to live out his days in as much comfort as she could provide him, and with as much companionship as he needed.
Even knowing it was the right thing, her heart was still sore, torn between the loss of such a long time and faithful companion and the guilt. He was her horse. Injured in her service, while she was distracted. And she had not been there to see to his healing.
Instead, she had been trying to follow up reports of missing girls, pursuing an organised group of kidnappers, and then in Willowton, investigating the death of Elinor, her former mentor. In her mind she knew that those things were more necessary than staying here to tend to her injured horse. Her heart was still not so sure.
A little distance away, an impatient snort sounded, pulling her out of her guilt.
Baldur, a dull dapple grey, as unremarkable to look at as Lothar, was a short distance away, still in the field with the other horses, and clearly believed that it should be him, and not Lothar, that she had taken out of the field for a thorough brush down and ear scratch. It reminded her of many occasions when Mariah and Joel had been young, vying for her attention. Whole weeks had passed when she could not pay attention to one without the other believing they were missing out.
The comparison drew a smile to her face, though there was not much humour in it. The children still occasionally vied for her attention, but they were nearly grown now. Joel would be free of her legal guardianship sooner than she cared to think about. Remarkable people, each of them. And even though Mariah was younger, neither of them needed her anymore. They were both more than capable of making their own way in the world. And she was not ready to let them go.
As she was not ready to let Lothar go into his retirement. Not nearly ready. Despite knowing that it was overdue.
“You’re going to wear out his ear if you keep scratching,” Renard said over her shoulder. “And it’s not getting him brushed.”
Yvonne’s smile widened, her heart lightening. Renard chiding her was familiar and welcome, from years before when he had taught her to ride, and gifted her Lothar.
“It’s his favourite spot,” she told him, running her hand down Lothar’s neck. “And I have brushed him.”
“Really?” Renard drew the word out, coming to stand alongside her, casting his critical eye over Lothar’s smooth coat. His head barely reached her shoulder. He was a wulf, though, and could tear her apart if he wished. It had taken a long time for her to be relaxed in his presence until now, when he was simply an old and familiar companion. He gave a small sniff. “I suppose.”
Yvonne hid another smile, giving her horse a pat on his shoulder, careful to avoid his injury. “He’s healing well. Thank you.”
And Lothar was not the only one. When Renard had come to see her, not that many days before, the wulf had looked like every one of his many years of life were weighing on him, more frail than she would have believed possible. He had ingested the same poison that had killed Elinor. Unlike Elinor, he had received a small enough dose that the antidote had worked. He was better. Not fully healed, but better. There was grey in his hair and lines on his face that she did not think would fade, even with time.
“You gave it a good start,” Renard answered, moving away to the fence to give Baldur a pat. The younger horse accepted the attention with great dignity, the effect ruined when he shoved his nose into Renard’s chest, asking for a scratch behind the ears, too. Renard was one of the rarest things in the world. A wulf without a range. Like her children. Unlike her children, he had a reputation that spanned the known world for being one of the best horse trainers. Lothar and Baldur were both his former pupils. Gifted to Yvonne. A horse trained by Renard was a formidable companion, and the envy of kings. And she had two of them.
The world-renowned horse trainer brushed bits of grass from his shirt front from Baldur’s enthusiastic greeting, and gave the horse another scratch. Like her, he was dressed in work clothes. Dark trousers tucked into knee-high leather boots, and a lighter coloured shirt. His had always been of good quality. Hers had generally been patched and mended over the years.
Renard’s mouth kicked up in a lazy smile as the horse sighed, then he lifted a brow at Yvonne. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”
“Yes.” Yvonne’s good humour faded, apprehension returning. She had grown used to travel over the years. The life of a Hunar required it, and she enjoyed it, even if she always felt the pull of guilt at leaving her children. This was different, though. This was not a task for a supplicant, drawn by the magic of the Hundred, but something she had agreed to, for her own reasons, mostly curiosity. Natural curiosity about the Karoan’shae, yes, and, stronger than that, a chance to see Guise among his own people.
~
She might have the assurance of time from Guise, to take whatever it was between them as slowly as she pleased, but the Karoan’shae were mere days away, and she did not have the luxury of time to prepare.
Before she left, she needed some more supplies from town, to make sure the house was stocked. Renard was staying here for a while, with Mariah and Joel.
As well as recovering from the poison, Renard was still mourning Elinor. Elinor had been many things. Hunar. Renard’s lover. Yvonne’s mentor, and friend.
Elinor had been killed. By someone who she would have trusted to the depths of her being. It did not matter that her murderer, Sillman, the former leader of the Hundred, was now dead, too, taking his own life under the influence of bone magic. That did not take away the shock and grief at Elinor’s loss.
Still healing, and mourning, Yvonne suspected that Renard would be glad of the company for a while. The presence of two young wulfkin would be a good distraction. And it would be good for her children to have an older wulf so close for a while. Someone like them, without a range. The only three wulfkin that she knew of who did not have a range to call home. Renard was respected among his own kind, and renowned among humans for his skill with horses. It showed her children what was possible. That becoming part of a range, bowing to a cerro’s leadership, was not necessary. They could be independent. If they wanted. Yvonne knew how valuable having a choice was.
As she had chosen to accept Helgiarast’s invitation. And so was now committed to spend time in the goblin court. A chance to see the inner workings of the Karoan’shae. If she survived.
Before then, she had errands to run.
Baldur was delighted to be freed from the field, twitching with impatience when she put his saddle on, then picking up his heels on the short ride into Fir Tree Crossing. The young horse was still green, Renard had said, and his antics were a sharp contrast to Lothar. It would take time, Yvonne knew, for Baldur to settle, and keeping her attention on him kept her from thinking too much about Lothar, disgruntled at being left in the field, even if Renard had stayed with him to scratch his ears.
The stable hands at The Tavern were happy to see her, and accept Baldur into their care. They had always provided a good service to all horses in their charge, but Yvonne had noted that the stables seemed to be even more orderly than normal, the stable hands more attentive than before. Renard’s arrival and presence in the town had been noticed by the range. And they would know that Baldur was trained by Renard himself.
Baldur, of course, accepted the extra attention from the stable hands as simply his due. Yvonne shook her head slightly as she left him, heading for the trading street. Lothar would have taken the attention in much the same way. But Lothar would also be content to be outdoors overnight, camping in a forest. Her old horse adapted easily to his circumstances. She wasn’t sure about Baldur yet. They would need to take a long journey soon, and stay in the wild, so she could test her new horse more fully. He was superbly trained, as all Renard’s horses were, and she was confident he would work well with her in a fight.
Even though most of her time as Hunar was not spent fighting, instead spent travelling from place to place, for which a steady, reliable, horse was worth his weight in gold, there were still other times when more was needed. Too often, of late. Times when she needed her horse to act as an extra pair of eyes and ears, their senses sharper than hers. To stand against things that would make most sane people, let alone horses, run away. Lothar had been rock solid underneath her facing nightmares. Time would tell if Baldur would be the same.
It was shame she could not take her horses into the Karoan’shae with her. Baldur would be spoiled in the Palace stables, she was sure, while she was trying to navigate goblin politics.
