6 Calay Castle

At the age of twenty-nine Anjine remained unmarried, much to her father's dismay. She could not allow herself to think of romance or husbands in the midst of this war… but the conflict showed no sign of ending.

Though Prince Tomas was bright and healthy, and certainly worthy to be in line for the throne, Anjine was King Korastine's successor. Isolated by her royal position, she had never dallied with the schoolgirl crushes her maidservants enjoyed. The war against Uraba consumed her thoughts and erased such giddy ideas from her mind.

Still, she knew Korastine wanted her not only to be married, but happy.

Anjine sat in the war council room, poring over summaries from the five reaches. Each day, she waited for a report from Mateo on the front lines, some news about the success of the march against the Ishalem wall.

Her cat Tycho curled up on her lap, finding a way to melt into the valley of her skirts. As he grew older, the cat spent more and more time with Anjine, following her from room to room. Some days, Tycho seemed a perfect sounding board for her to talk through her ideas, especially when Mateo could not be there.

Mateo Bornan, her friend and childhood companion, had risen through the ranks to serve as special subcomdar in the Tierran military, a new liaison position from Calay to the military units. Other men might outrank Mateo, but Anjine trusted him over anyone else.

Her father entered the room smiling, and she could tell that he wanted to talk of husbands or weddings. “My daughter, in these quiet days while we wait to hear from the army, why don't we take the time to discuss other matters that are relevant to Tierra? There is more to life, and to the crown, than war. Sometimes we forget that.”

“I don't forget about it, Father. But we have to choose our priorities.”

“Yes, indeed we do.” Korastine took his seat and leaned forward on the table of varnished Iborian pine. “I just received a letter packet from Destrar Unsul of Erietta, and I am very pleased by his suggestion.” He pushed the papers in front of him. “Unsul is a wise and studious man, not given to displays of temper. By building clever windmills to pump water and irrigate the crops, he's greatly increased his yields of cotton and hemp.”

She looked up, absently stroking the cat behind his ears. “Good. We always need rope and fabric for our war effort.”

Korastine continued as if he hadn't heard. “Such a dedicated man—Unsul worries more about the welfare of his people than about his own personal wealth, or politics in general. I think he would have been happier as an engineer than a destrar. His wife loved the Eriettan horses and was quite an accomplished rider herself, until she was killed in a fall.” A cloud-shadow of sadness crossed Korastine's face. “Unsul loved her very much, and now his eldest son Jenirod is a spectacular showman… takes more after his mother than his father, but I'm sure he's a good man.” He lifted one of the letters; the wax seal was already broken. “It would make me very glad if you took this offer seriously.”

“And what offer is that?”

“Jenirod is strong, handsome… and of marriageable age. He comes highly recommended.”

Her expression quickly changed. “We're too busy to plan a wedding right now.” Done with the subject, Anjine studied an assessment of the Urecari captives that had been sent to the work camps in Alamont and Corag. It wasn't clear whether their unwilling labor produced enough to justify the food required to keep them alive.

Korastine looked dejectedly at Destrar Unsul's letter, tapping his fingers on the words written there. “Forgive a father for wishing his daughter happiness. Having a husband is more than simple political necessity. Ilrida made my life brighter than it had ever been before.”

And you were devastated with grief when she died. Anjine nodded. “I realize that, Father, but please… not now.”

After losing his dear wife, not through treachery or violence but to a simple infection, Korastine had wanted to sail away in search of Terravitae, in search of peace. But the burning of the new Arkship had dashed those hopes, and since then the king spent evenings alone in his chambers, reading the Tales of the Traveler. His swollen, gouty knee had dashed his hopes of sailing to the ends of the earth, and so he explored the world vicariously through the adventures of the fabled wanderer.

“And Tomas…” Korastine sat back, smiling. “What a dear boy. With two such wonderful children, what more could a man want?”

Perhaps because of Ilrida's death, King Korastine was overprotective of the boy, fearing any harm that might come to his only son. Anjine remembered the great panic in the castle only five months ago, when her brother hadn't arrived for his lessons on time. No one could locate Tomas—or Mateo, or Obertas, the marshall of the royal guard who was responsible for the prince's safety. Despite a frantic search throughout the castle, Tomas was nowhere to be found.

Though Anjine had tried to downplay the seriousness, poor Korastine's alarm had increased with every hour. He summoned the entire royal guard and city guard, mounting a full-fledged search of the city. The king had melted into relief and nervous laughter when Mateo and Obertas sauntered back to the castle with the boy between them. Grinning, Tomas held up a string with great pride, showing off the four fish they had caught in the bay.

“Can we eat them for dinner?” Tomas didn't understand what all the fuss was about. “I want the cook to prepare them. They'll be the most delicious fish we've ever had. We used fishhooks and lumps of cheese, and when the fish bit, it almost pulled my arm out!”

While Obertas had begged forgiveness for the inadvertent panic they had caused, Korastine hugged the boy and wouldn't let go. Anjine looked fondly at her friend Mateo, thinking of their times as “Tycho” and “Tolli” when they too had caused the castle staff much consternation.

Mateo smiled sheepishly at her. “We just took your brother fishing. He'd never caught a fish before.”

“Can we go again?” Tomas looked up at the king. “I want to go fishing every day. Mateo said he'd take me!”

Korastine shuddered, apparently unable to find an answer, so Anjine replied for him. “Not just yet, Tomas. Next time, let us know where you're going.”

Obertas had squirmed in abject apology, but with twinkling eyes, Mateo had added, “Next time, Anjine, we'll even take you with us.”

Mateo didn't often appear so happy, but he always tried to make a good show for her, hoping to lighten her burden. Now Anjine hoped he was safe at the Ishalem wall. Maybe, when the soldan-shah faced the large Tierran army—nearly ten thousand troops, gathered for a single attack—he would simply surrender….

Now Korastine studied the letter from Destrar Unsul again; he was certainly persistent. “You could have the same joy, if you would marry.”

With a bustle at the door, Anjine's plump handmaiden Enifir came in bearing a small crock of mulled cider. She was of hardy Iborian stock and enormously pregnant, but her condition did not slow her one bit. “I thought you both might be thirsty.” Her voice still carried a nasal accent of the northern dialect.

Enifir was one of five handmaidens who had accompanied young Ilrida on her wedding procession from Iboria Reach. The other women had returned to the cold north after the death of their mistress, but Enifir remained in Calay and married a man named Vorannen, who was now the marshall of the city guard. Waddling up to each of them, she ladled warm cider into their mugs. “Drink up before it grows cold.” Enifir watched like a hawk until each took a sip, then left the chamber.

Tycho shifted on Anjine's lap, stretched, then dozed again.

“Tomas is about the same age I was when Mateo and I accompanied you on the last trip to Ishalem, to sign the Edict,” she pointed out. “Don't you want him to be able to see the holy city, too? Our army is at the gates of Ishalem, Father. We'll conquer it for him—and for all followers of Aiden. With ten thousand soldiers, how can we fail?”

Korastine sipped his mulled cider, let out a sigh. “Once Ishalem is safely in Aidenist hands again, will you take time to plan a wedding?”