CHAPTER
24
“YOUR MAJESTY?”
KORVIS LOOKED AS CONFUSED as Heath felt.
Lara smiled. “Aurora
shall enter the service of the Queen as handmaiden until such time
as I see fit to release her from her duties. While she is in the
Queen’s service, she will be educated and trained to such skills as
she wishes, including the traditional domestic skills of Xy and
such skills of the Plains as she expresses an interest to
learn.”
The murmurs were
growing now, but they were more confounded than angry.
“In the meantime,
your families can act under your agreements to increase your
trades. To that end, I have a charge for you, Lord Korvis, and for
your son, one that will benefit your families and all of
Xy.”
“Your Majesty?”
Korvis was alert now, and interested.
“It is our intention
to restore the trade routes to the kingdoms of Nyland and
Cadthorn,” Lara announced. “We would send you and your son as our
emissaries to Cadthorn. Another lord.” Lara paused just long enough
to look pointedly around the room. “Another lord will be named to
journey to Nyland.”
Heath looked for his
father’s reaction; his father looked pleased. So he’d known that
this was in the wind. Korvis’s and Bedell’s expressions said it
all. They weren’t happy, but they were interested.
“You’d clear the
mountain passes of obstacles?” Korvis asked. “There’s been no one
through there but the odd, wandering tinker in
decades.”
“Yes,” Lara said.
“With the aid of the warriors of the Plains, we can clear the
passes of all their dangers. Wild animals, bandits, and the
like.”
“Cadthorn has a
seaport,” Bedell said excitedly. “That would open trade to . . . to
. . .”
He fell speechless,
as if looking off into a future of prosperity.
“We’ve old maps of
the routes and what trade goods were desired,” Keir said, his voice
a smug rumble. “We have a need to open ourselves back up to the
world around us.”
The throne room
buzzed now, everyone talking excitedly, lords and craftmasters
alike. Heath knew word of this would explode from the room like
sparrows from a bush once the doors were opened.
Lara shifted again on
the cushion and grimaced. “My lords, I fear I must close this
Justice. Aurora, stand with me.”
Aurora looked up at
Elois, who smiled down, then whispered in her ear. The girl walked
over to stand at Lara’s side.
“Craftmaster Bedell,
Aurora can visit with you as often as she wishes, but this day, I
have a need of her. There is much to be done to prepare for
tonight’s ceremony.” Lara braced her hands on the armrests. “As we
have spoken, let it be done, for our decree is absolute and the law
of this, our kingdom. Our decision given, this Justice is at an
end.”
The Herald thumped
his staff down three times, and everyone knelt as Keir escorted
Lara to the antechamber with Othur, Aurora, and their
bodyguards.
Heath gave Atira a
nod as the crowd rose and started to mill about, voices getting
louder and louder as they filed from the throne room. Heath met
Atira at the antechamber door.
ATIRA MADE HER WAY
ALONG THE WALL TO THE door to meet Heath. It was easier to deal
with all these people in a crowded place if you had the wall to one
side.
She arrived just as
Heath did and stood beside him as they both scanned the departing
crowd. “Lara will wait within, until the halls have been cleared,”
Heath said softly.
“Wise, given all that
has happened,” Atira replied. “She did well, did she
not?”
“Oh yes,” Heath said
with a smile. “She said no to their plans and then dropped a nice,
juicy plum right in their laps.”
“Plum?” Atira
asked.
Heath chuckled. “You
know what I mean.”
Atira gave him a
smile as the last of the people filed through the doors. Heath
finally opened the door behind them, and they slipped
inside.
“. . . three dogs,”
Aurora was saying, standing by the fireplace as Lara walked up and
down, leaning on Keir’s arm. “They run and play with me everywhere
I go.”
“Well, we’ll see to
it that you get to visit them.” Lara was breathing hard, clearly
uncomfortable. She glanced at Heath. “Are the halls cleared? I’d
really like to return to my chamber.”
“We’ll manage it,”
Heath assured her. “We’ll put Keir in the lead, and he can stalk in
front and clear the way with his glare.”
“I live to serve,”
Keir said. He put Lara’s hand on Heath’s arm. “Prest, Rafe, take
point with me. Ander, Yveni, and Atira, take the
rear.”
Othur smiled at Lara,
and placed a kiss on her cheek. “You did very well, Daughter of Xy.
But I must go and check on preparations. I will see you before the
ceremony.” Othur looked down at Aurora. “Handmaiden Aurora, would
you like to meet my ladywife, Anna the Cook? I bet she’d give us
biscuits and tea, if we ask nicely.”
Aurora broke into a
grin and slipped her hand in Othur’s. “Yes, please.”
As they left, Lara
leaned heavily on Heath’s arm and put her hand to the small of her
back. “I will be just as glad when this is done,” she said with a
sigh.
Heath had one eye on
the door as Keir slid through after Othur. Rafe and Prest followed
close behind. “We’ll all feel better about this once the babe is
born.”
“But one can never
drop one’s guard, Warprize,” Atira said.
Lara grimaced, then
looked around the room. “Would you do me a favor, Heath?” she asked
quickly.
“Of course, little
bird.” She had his full attention now. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing really. I—”
Lara bit her lip. “In one of the packets we sent to Othur from the
Plains, I sent a separate note to Ismari, the goldsmith. I asked
her to craft . . .” she flushed up, and looked away. “I’d hoped . .
. I wasn’t sure . . .”
“Rings?” Heath
whispered softly, bringing his head close to hers.
Lara drew his head
down and pressed her forehead to his. “Rings. Would you go
and—”
The door opened and
Prest appeared. “It’s clear.”
Heath smiled into
Lara’s blue eyes. “We’ll take you to your chambers so that you can
rest. Then I will take Atira, and we will retrieve your tokens.
What is a wedding without rings?”
Lara’s smile was
radiant.
DURST STOOD IN THE
COURTYARD OF THE CASTLE and watched as Korvis prepared to
mount.
“Sorry, Durst.”
Korvis pulled on his glove and yanked it tight. “I cannot support
your cause.” The man paused and looked up at the castle. “You have
a legitimate grievance, I admit that. But the Queen’s justice is
fair.” His gaze settled on Careth, mounted and waiting sullenly
with Korvis’s escort, and he heaved a sigh. “The Queen’s embassy
through the mountains may be just what Careth needs.”
“You are blinded by
greed,” Durst snapped.
Korvis gave him a
level look. “Tell me you would have turned such an opportunity away
for your sons, had they lived?”
Durst snarled. “But
they didn’t, did they? And that Firelander lords over us all,
and—”
“Your hate blinds
you,” Korvis said bluntly. “Bedell is well satisfied, given his
daughter’s resistance to the marriage. He is honored that she will
be the Queen’s handmaiden and more than satisfied that the
betrothal stands. As am I.”
“Traitor,” Durst
spat. “Xylara is a whore, as was her mother.”
Korvis stared at him.
“So old hatreds rear up and cry for blood? No. I will not be a part
of this. As a lord of Xy, I have always considered the needs of my
people before my own. Return to your lands, Durst. Live out your
life in peace. Your wife is still of an age to give you children.
Don’t you see—?”
Durst turned on his
heel and limped off, seething in rage. He heard Korvis mount up,
and the pounding of the horses’ hooves as Korvis and the others
rode through the gates.
Lanfer was waiting by
the doors to the castle, leaning against the stone wall, arms
crossed over his chest. He stood in silence as Durst limped past
and fell in behind. They walked the halls and the stairs to Durst’s
chambers. In silence, Durst opened the door. Browdus rose as they
entered the room.
“I heard,” Browdus
said.
Durst walked over to
the hearth where a small fire burned. “New trade routes. Who’d have
known that a Firelander would be so wily?” He stared into the
flames. “Will the Archbishop perform the marriage
ceremony?”
“If you think he is
capable of defying the bitch and her Firelander, you are mistaken.”
Browdus folded his hands into his sleeves. “He will never have the
courage to stand before them and deny them the rite.”
Lanfer stood silent,
his hand on the hilt of his sword, waiting.
“Korvis will not
support us,” Durst said. “Only two other lords and their men will
fight on our behalf.”
“That will suffice,”
Lanfer said. “I’ve recruited enough of the Guard with coin and
promises. Given the advantage of surprise and betrayal, we can win
through.”
“Very well.” Durst
straightened. “It appears that drawn blades are the only recourse.
Spread the word.”
“It would suit me if
the Archbishop were to perish as well,” Browdus said.
“I’m sure it would,”
Durst growled. “But our purpose is not to advance you within the
church. Our purpose is to clear this taint from the Xyian
throne.”
“As you say.” Browdus
nodded. “I will see to it that the Archbishop appears on time.”
With that, he departed, slipping through the door.
Durst waited until it
was well closed before facing Lanfer. “It would not bother me if
that bastard fell as well.”
“In the confusion of
the moment, who can say who will live or die?” Lanfer
shrugged.
“Just swear to me.”
Durst locked his gaze with Lanfer’s. “Swear that Heath dies before
his father’s eyes.”
Lanfer smiled
broadly. “Have no fear of that, my lord.”
“SHOULD WE BE
LEAVING?” ATIRA ASKED AS SHE swung up onto her horse.
Heath was already in
his saddle, signaling the guards to open the front gates. “It’s not
far,” he said, urging his horse forward. “And it means a lot to
Lara.”
Atira urged her horse
into a walk—
—and nothing
happened.
“Eh?” She looked down
at the horse’s head.
The horse stood
there, waiting.
She urged him on
again. This time, the horse turned to look at her, almost puzzled.
Heath circled back, grinning at her. “What? A Firelander who cannot
ride?”
Atira
growled.
“Perhaps you should
ride pillion behind me?” Heath offered. “Or we could walk,
perhaps?”
Before she drew her
sword on the idiot, she remembered that this was a Xyian horse. She
shifted in her seat, using her heels instead of her toes. The horse
grunted in satisfaction and started off.
Heath laughed, a
strong ringing sound—the first real laugh she’d heard from him in
some time. Atira threw him a scowl, but her heart wasn’t really in
it. The tension was gone from his face, and his eyes
danced.
They passed through
the doors at a trot and onto the cobbled street. Heath took the
lead, and they passed swiftly down into the city
proper.
Here the streets were
so crowded that they slowed their horses to a walk. Atira couldn’t
help but gape at all the people, short and fat, tall and thin,
carrying bundles and parcels, talking to merchants and to one
another, walking and talking.
The sounds bounced
against the walls, confusing her with the echoes. Skies, it was
loud. And the endless rows of buildings that lined the street cut
off her sight, forcing her to lift her eyes to potential threats;
there was always an up in this
place.
And the smells . . .
skies above, it was enough to wish the winds would sweep through.
One breath was the smell of baking, the next rotting
meat.
It seemed so strange,
and yet in some ways it reminded her of the Heart in summer, when
the tribes gathered. Crowded, noisy . . . For a moment she ached
for the Plains.
But then a man walked
past, herding a gaggle of geese before him. Her horse shied, and
Atira tightened up on the reins to let the creatures
past.
“Sorry, milady,” the
lad cried as he shooed the geese along.
“Is it always so?”
Atira asked as Heath drew up beside her.
“For the most part.”
Heath nodded. “But this is a bit more frantic than usual. Word has
spread of the wedding, and everyone who can will celebrate this
night. So they gather food and drink, and try to get their work
done before sunset.” Heath nodded down the street. “This
way.”
Atira followed,
keeping a better eye on the path before her. The shops were all
full of foodstuffs here, but the contents changed as they rode
along, from livestock to herbs and then to cloth.
Heath urged his horse
over next to a strange contraption. An old lady was seated on a
stool nearby. Atira pulled up next to him just as the woman cackled
and pointed off one of the side streets with an old and crippled
hand.
“Down there, milord
Heath. Just past the leather workers.”
“My thanks, Kalisa,”
Heath said. “How does your business?”
“Fine, Lord, fine.”
Kalisa looked up at him from an angle, her back hunched over.
“Plenty of customers wanting my cheese. A slice for yourself,
perhaps?” Kalisa looked at Atira. “Perhaps for your
lady?”
“It’s been a while
since we broke our fast.” Heath nodded, reaching into his pouch.
“But I fear my lady knows only of gurt.”
Kalisa frowned as she
moved to cut two slices of yellow cheese, placing them between thin
wafers. “Odd stuff, that Firelander cheese.”
Heath leaned down and
traded the coins for the food. “My thanks, Kalisa.”
“The Sun God bless
you, milord,” Kalisa called. “And the Queen as well!”
Heath passed Atira
her portion, and they headed off at a fast walk. Atira eyed the
yellow substance carefully, then bit into it. The taste was strange
on her tongue, but good. She ate as they moved down the street in
the direction Kalisa had pointed out.
Heath had almost
finished his, cramming it into his mouth and wiping the crumbs off
on his trous. He pointed down the street. “There, that’s Ismari and
Dunstan’s shop.”
Atira finished her
cheese as they dismounted. Heath called out, and a young lad came
running out, taking up the reins and tugging the horses around a
corner. The door stayed open and Heath stepped in, holding it for
Atira to enter.
The inside was rather
plain, with a wooden counter that ran the length of the opposite
wall. The door behind it opened, and a girl with her black hair
piled on top of her head popped through, her leather apron stained
and burned.
“Heath!” she said,
her smile warm and bright.
“We’re on an errand
for the Queen, Ismari,” Heath started. “This is Atira of the
Bear.”
Ismari nodded. “We
were wondering when she’d send for them,” she said. “Wait
here.”
She vanished behind
the door, but it never got the chance to close before a lad stepped
through, his own apron as burned and stained as the woman’s. The
air around him was scented with heat and smoke and something tinged
with metal. But Atira was focused on the naked blade in his
hand.
Atira reached for her
sword, but Heath stilled her hand with his own. “This is Nathan,
one of the journeymen. There is always a guard when Ismari displays
her wares.”
“If I’d known it was
you, I’d have not bothered,” Nathan said with a grin. “But I’m just
as glad of the break. Dunstan’s got a new idea for working a blade,
and he’s got us sweatin’ over the anvil for hours
now.”
“Really?” Heath
asked. “What did he come up with?”
“Now you’re asking
guild secrets,” Nathan teased as Ismari returned. The opened door
let in heat and noise before swinging shut behind her.
Ismari set a polished
wooden box on the counter and opened it, turning it to display the
contents. “What do you think?”
Atira stepped closer
and looked. Heath moved with her, his body pressed against
hers.
“Amazing,” Heath
breathed over Atira’s shoulder, and she had to agree.
There were two rings
in the box—one slightly bigger than the other, each of the same
design. Each ring showed two hands—one of gold, the other of
silver, the fingers intertwined. It took a moment for Atira to
realize that the gold hand was slightly larger than the silver. A
man’s hand, then, the fingers intertwined with a woman’s, the tips
of the thumbs just touching.
Atira caught her
breath. It was the gesture that she’d glimpsed between Lara and
Keir, something that had significance to both of them. Something
private and rare, and ever so precious. Something more than just a
sharing of bodies.
“Well?” Heath asked
as he leaned in, his breath warm on her ear.