Chapter 21
The Price Of Love
Magnes found the duke in the exercise paddock behind the stables, hacking around the circular enclosure on a magnificent gray stallion. He leaned on the wooden railing and watched with silent admiration the skill and artistry of his father’s horsemanship.
“Lord Magnes! Yer back!” a familiar, high-pitched voice shouted.
Dari, the young ginger-haired groom skidded to a stop a few paces from Magnes, freckled face alight with excitement. Magnes blinked, doubting the accuracy of his eyes. It seemed to him as if Dari had grown several inches over the last two months.
“How’d you get so big so fast, Dari? I haven’t been gone that long, have I?”
“Aye, long enough, sir. Dunno how it happens. I just wake up ev’ry mornin’ an’ I’m bigger.”
Magnes smiled, touched by the boy’s simple cheerfulness. “The stallion my father is riding…I’ve never seen him before.”
“Oh, that’s his Grace’s new warhorse. Arrived just last week, all the way from Kalu…Kalun…”
“Kalundwe?” Magnes prompted.
“Aye, that’s it! He’s a beauty, he is, sir. I’m not allowed near ‘im, though. None of us lads are, only Master Nolus and Lian. They look after ‘im.”
Magnes turned his attention back to the arena where horse and rider were executing a series of flying lead changes. Dari leaned on the railing beside him, totally spellbound. The stallion moved with effortless grace, powerful muscles sliding beneath shimmering hide like ripples on water. A pair of blackbirds, who just moments before had been squabbling atop a pile of dung, took flight and blew past the stallion’s nose, but the horse ignored them, so attuned was he to his rider. As the duke cantered past their position on the fence, the beast snorted, spattering Magnes and Dari with a spray of fine moisture.
Duke Teodorus cantered the stallion in ever tightening circles until he had the horse spinning on his haunches. He then brought the stallion to a complete stop, fully collected and ready to take off in any direction at the touch of a heel. The duke held him thus for several heartbeats, then released him. The horse visibly relaxed and stretched out his neck for a vigorous shake. His ears, which only a moment ago had stood erect with alertness, now flopped lazily.
The duke dismounted and led the horse toward the gate. Magnes slowly walked over to meet him. He lifted the latch and held the gate open as his father and the stallion passed through, then followed behind as Duke Teodorus led his new mount back into the stables.
Lian, the head groom under Master Nolus, waited at the stable entrance to take the stallion from the duke, who handed over the reins with a word of thanks. Dari scurried past with a quick wave to Magnes and disappeared into the dim interior of the barn.
“How was he today, your Grace?” Lian asked as he slipped a halter over the stallion’s head. The big horse whickered softly.
“He’s settled down nicely,” the duke replied. “He’s a little stiff on the left hand, but that’ll soon sort itself out. The important thing is that he’s got a cool head. He listens well, unlike a lot of stallions. That’s vital in the heat of battle. He’ll not panic and bolt. I think I’ll start him on some sparring exercises next week.”
“He’s magnificent, Father. He must have cost a small fortune,” Magnes said, taking care to keep his voice neutral. The duke stared coldly at his son for a heartbeat, then began walking briskly back towards the keep.
Magnes took a deep breath and fell in beside him. “Father, I…” he began, but Teodorus cut him off.
“Be quiet, boy.” Magnes gulped and shut his mouth. Father and son walked on in chilly silence. Magnes shot a quick glance at the duke’s face but saw only stony impassivity. They crossed the yard quickly and entered the keep. As Magnes followed his father up the stairs to the second floor, he felt like an errant child about to receive a whipping for an especially heinous act of disobedience, which, in a way, was accurate.
After slamming the door to his study behind them, Duke Teodorus crossed the room to sit in a large, padded armchair. He pointed wordlessly to the footstool beside it. Magnes needed no further instructions. He positioned the stool in front of the chair and down he sat, like a penitent before a judge.
“Start talking,” the duke ordered. Magnes folded his hands in his lap to keep them from shaking, lest they betray his anxiety.
At first, his mouth could not seem to form the right words. His mind and heart knew what they wished to say, but his tongue turned traitor and refused to cooperate. With an enormous effort of will, he finally broke through the barrier, and the words flowed out in a great rush, like water over a shattered dam.
He told his father all of it. He first spoke of Jelena’s despair and desperation. He then confessed his love for Livie and his desire to step aside in favor of Thessalina so that he could marry the woman he loved and live in peace with her, farming the land. He wanted to make his father understand why both he and Jelena had felt compelled to flee Amsara. Neither one of them could face what had been decreed by others for them. He finished by relating, briefly, all that had befallen Jelena and him in Alasiri and his reasons for returning.
Duke Teodorus listened in silence, his face a still-life rendered in cold granite. When Magnes finished, he waited, eyes lowered, for his father to speak.
Several heartbeats slipped by, and still, the duke remained silent. It was torturous, and, Magnes felt certain, quite deliberate.
Just as Magnes decided he could not stand it any longer, his father spoke.
“So. The elf lord let you leave, did he? Stupid of him. If it’d been the other way round, I would’ve kept his son hostage...in irons.”
Magnes looked up sharply. “Father…”
“I am your liege lord and your father,” the duke stated slowly, cutting him off. “And as both, I have absolute authority over you in all things. Is this not so?”
Magnes stared at the duke, taken off-guard by the question.
“Is this not so?” the duke raised his voice a notch, and his eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Yes, Father,” Magnes conceded.
“Your disobedience cost me a great deal of money, but what is worse, you shamed me and brought disgrace upon our family. You stole another man’s property. Do you know what that makes you? Veii and I had already signed a contract. Money had exchanged hands. The girl was bought and paid for.”
A flash flood of anger surged through Magnes. The words escaped his mouth before he had time to think of stopping them. “Stop talking about her as if she were a thing! Her name is Jelena! She is your only sister’s daughter, for the gods’ sake! Why could you never accept her as part of our family?”
“You keep silent while I’m speaking to you!” the duke hissed. Furiously, he sprang from his chair and began to pace. Reflexively, Magnes ducked, expecting a blow. Instead, the duke folded his arms tightly behind his back and continued to rant.
“You are going to pay back Veii out of your own purse, d’you hear? And what’s more, there’ll be no more talk of you stepping aside. You are the Heir, and that’ll never change, so live with it! The marriage contract can be renewed. I happen to know that Orveta has yet to find another prospect for his daughter. This alliance between our two houses is far too profitable to abandon over the foolish whim of a lovesick puppy!”
“Is that what you think I am, a lovesick puppy?” Magnes could barely speak through teeth clenched as tight as the jaws of a wolf trap.
“I think that you are the future Duke of Amsara, and it’s high time you started acting like it. Now, get out! When I summon you again, you’d better be ready to tell me everything you know about that tink castle and its defenses. AndI suggest you spend some time meditating on the error of your ways!” The duke turned his back on his son and went to stand by the open window. Magnes opened his mouth to protest, but the futility of it froze his tongue. Instead, he retreated as ordered. He left his father’s study and fled to the heights of Amsara’s outer wall where he could calm his mind and think.
If only I’d had been able to make Father understand. Gods know I tried, but he wouldn’t listen.
Magnes began to regret coming back to Amsara.
Perhaps it would have been better if I’d never returned. I could have gone south to Darguinia or west to the seacoast and gotten passage on a freighter outbound to the Shilluk Islands, he thought. I still could. After enough time has passed, Father will be forced to declare Thessalina his Heir.
Magnes truly believed that his sister would make a far better ruler than he ever could be. It was she who had inherited the necessary qualities that made a good leader, not he.
Magnes also believed that, deep down, Duke Teodorus knew the truth of the matter but refused to acknowledge it. The duke was a man who defined his life by tradition, and he would stubbornly cling to it, no matter the consequences, and by tradition, the first-born inherited all titles, lands, responsibilities, and obligations.
All of which Magnes would gladly hand over to Thessalina, without a moment’s hesitation.
The sun stood directly overhead now, and the land below lay prostrate under shimmering waves of heat. Magnes wiped his profusely sweating brow on his arm and retreated back down off of the wall and into the relative cool of the partially shaded yard. As he splashed water from a horse trough onto the back of his neck, he spied Claudia crossing the yard, headed towards the kitchen.
“Claudia, wait!” he called out.
The old nurse stopped in her tracks and whirled around at the sound of her name. Magnes watched her mouth form an O of surprise just before her hands flew up to cover it.
As he approached, smiling, she rocked back and forth on her heels. “Ye’ve come back to us, oh, gods be praised!” she cried, stretching out her hands and laying them on either side of his face when he drew close enough to touch. Of all the servants at Amsara, only she could take such liberties.
He folded her plump fingers into his and squeezed them affectionately. “Claudia, I have news,” he said, and her eyes, sparkling with tears, grew wide. “Jelena is safe. She lives now in a place called Kerala, in the service of an elf lord named Sakehera.”
“She’s found them, then? Her father’s kin? Oh, Lord Magnes, this be good news, indeed!” Claudia clasped her hands together and looked heavenward, as if offering a prayer of thanksgiving to the gods.
“No, she hasn’t found her father yet, but Lord Sakehera has pledged to help her in her search. In the meantime, he has allowed her to stay and earn her keep as his messenger.”
“The elves were acceptin’ of her, then? I was so afraid they’d be as cruel to my little lamb as folk was here. It tore my heart thinkin’ on it, it did.”
“They have accepted her, some more than others, but as a whole, she is treated well. And there’s more. When I left, our Jelena and the lord’s younger son were becoming close. I know for a fact that she’s very much in love with him, and I strongly suspect that he returns her feelings.”
“My prayers have been answered! My baby has found a place amongst people who’ll love her an’ treat her well, even if she be not their kin an’ of mixed blood, besides. If the gods’re merciful, she’ll find her own family afore long.”
“There is so much I want to tell you, Claudia, but for now, it must wait. I know you have work to do, and there is someone I must go and see. I just pray that I’m not too late.”
“Gods bless ye, Lord Magnes. Ye’ve brought joy to this old woman. I thank ye!” Claudia took Magnes’s hand and fervently pressed her lips to it. She then turned and shuffled off toward the laundry, dabbing at her eyes with the hem of her apron. Magnes stood a moment, watching until the old nurse disappeared from view. A surge of affection for Claudia flooded his chest with warmth. He had very little memory of his own mother, who had died when he was just a baby. Claudia’s was the only face he could conjure up when he thought about the idea of a mother’s love.
Love of a different sort now occupied his mind as Magnes headed back toward the stables. Dari sat in a patch of shade by the barn door, cleaning tack. The instant he spotted Magnes, the boy put aside the bridle he’d been scrubbing and scrambled to his feet.
“I need a horse, Dari,” Magnes called out.
“Aye, sir, right away.” Dari turned, cupped his hands to his mouth, and shouted into the shadowy doorway. “Oi! Pip! C’mere, now!”He looked over his shoulder at Magnes and grinned. A few heartbeats later, a younger lad of no more than ten summers scrambled out of the barn, bright purple juice smearing his face and hands. Dari cuffed him across his tow head.
“Ow! Wha’ was that for!” the child yelled in protest, his face a comic mask of indignation.
Dari looked smug as he shot a knowing glance at Magnes. “That was fer not botherin’ t’ clean up before you came out here.” He slapped the boy again, eliciting another yelp. “And that one’s fer sassin’ me in front of Lord Magnes. Go and get the chestnut mare out o’ the far paddock, and be quick about it.” The boy scampered off.
“Since when do you get to boss the other lads around, Dari?” Magnes inquired.
“Since Lian give me permission to, sir. I’m the oldest now. Of the lads, that is. Lian says I’m t’ be head groom one day, soon as he’s Master. I’ve got the touch, he says.” Dari’s voice swelled with pride.
“Yes, you do have a definite way with horses, Dari, but take care that you treat the people under you with kindness. You’ll not get the loyalty and respect of the other lads by bullying them. If you show them that you care about them, they will want to give you their best. Believe me, it works.”
As Dari listened to Magnes’s words of advice, he slowly deflated like a punctured wineskin. Crestfallen, he nodded in understanding. Just then, the boy Pip returned with the mare.
Dari took the halter rope from the child’s hand and gave his little shoulder a pat. “Good boy, Pip. Now, go an’ get the brushes and picks an’ I’ll let you help with th’ groomin’.” The child’s face lit up like a candle, and he ran to obey.
Magnes waited in the shade while the two boys groomed and tacked up the mare. After they had finished, he thanked the boys and mounted, turning the horse’s head towards the main gate. The boys waved as he left the stable yard, and he raised his hand in acknowledgement.
The guardsmen turned at the sound of approaching hoof beats. Magnes hailed them, and they snapped off a crisp salute as he rode past and out onto the switchbacks leading down off Amsara’s rocky eyrie. At the base of the hill, he turned and rode along the outskirts of Amsara village until he came to the road that led south.
Amsara’s chief game warden lived with his family on a small homestead about half a mile outside of the village, within spitting distance of the verge of Duke Teodorus’s private woodland hunting grounds. When they were children, he and Livie would spend hours exploring every bower and thicket beneath the lush, green canopy. The woods became their own special, magical playground. Later, when they had grown from playmates into lovers, the woods served as their trysting place, enfolding their passion within its protective embrace.
Magnes still felt angry and guilty that he had had to leave so precipitously, with no time to explain to Livie. She probably thinks I abandoned her,he thought. He prayed that she would be at home and that she would be willing to listen to him. He recalled how he had once resolved to set her free so that she would have a chance for a decent match. He chided himself for his foolishness. As long as he lived, he could never let go of Livie. His body stirred with the memory of the last time they’d made love, just before Sansa.
Somehow, they would find a way to join their lives.
He urged the mare into a slow lope. After a while, horse and rider turned off the main road onto a narrow track that led across a small, cultivated field. A neat, thatched cottage surrounded by a wooden fence stood at the far end. A brace of hounds bayed at the gate as he pulled the horse to a stop and dismounted.
The cottage door flew open and a woman’s voice bellowed forth from the dark interior. “What’s all that racket, then!” The owner of the voice poked her head around the door frame and let out a squeak of surprise. “Oh, Lord Magnes, as I live and breathe!” The woman disappeared briefly, then reappeared armed with a broom. She flew out of the door and descended upon the dogs like a stooping eagle, swinging the broom in a great arc. The hounds’ frantic barks turned to yelps of pain as they scrambled out of the way.
“Get back, you mangy curs! You know Lord Magnes! What’s the matter with you? Go on, get out of here!” she hollered, and the dogs, sensing that the time for a strategic retreat had come, backed off with tails wagging.
“Hello, Mistress Honoria. It’s good to see you,” Magnes said, smiling.
Livie’s mother had lost none of her formidable energy, even after twenty-five years of marriage and seven children. She ran her household as tightly as any warship, and she was widely known and respected as the best potter in the district. Livie, as the eldest child, was apprenticed to the trade, and already had a reputation as a fine craftswoman in her own right.
“Hello to you, Lord Magnes. Come in, come in. Don’t know what’s gotten into those dogs. Truth be told, they’re all bluster and no action.” She swung open the gate to allow Magnes to enter the yard. “I’ve got some of my homemade elderberry wine if you’ve a thirst. I know how much you enjoy it.” Her blue eyes twinkled merrily.
“I would love some, Mistress. Thank you.” Magnes followed Honoria into the cool interior of the thick-walled cottage. The two dogs tailed them to the door then sat on the threshold, whining and licking their chops.
“Greedy scoundrels,” their mistress muttered, though not without some affection. “They know I’ve been making meat pasties, and they think they can play me for some more scraps, though the gods know they’ve had more than their share already.” Magnes laughed at the tragic looks on the dogs’ faces. He sat at the well-worn table that occupied the center of the large central chamber and waited until Honoria had poured him a tankard of wine before he spoke.
“Where is Livie, Mistress? It’s vitally important that I speak with her.”
Honoria sat opposite Magnes and folded her graceful, long-fingered hands on the table in front of her. She fixed Magnes with a sad, knowing look that immediately filled him with foreboding. “There’s no easy way of saying this, milord, so I’m just going to say it. Livie’s gone. She’s in Greenwood now, where her sister and her family live. She’s got her own shop there, started up just about one month ago. I’ve heard tell that folk are already placing so many orders, she’ll need an assistant before too long.”
“Then I’ll ride to Greenwood tomorrow to see her. She has to know why I left so suddenly without telling her. She must think I abandoned her, but that’s not true! I would never do that, Mistress. I know you know how I feel about Livie. I never tried to hide it from you. I love her, and she loves me. The only thing I’ve ever wanted is for us to be together.”
Honoria shook her head sadly. For a moment, she seemed too overcome to speak.
Magnes rose from his chair in alarm. “What is it? Please tell me what’s wrong!” he cried.
“Oh, Lord Magnes! You can’t go to Greenwood to see Livie now.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s a married woman!”
Magnes sat down, hard, like a puppet whose strings have just been cut. He stared straight ahead, unblinking, his jaw working as if words were trying to push their way out of his mouth but were unable to breach the barrier of his teeth.
Finally, he managed to speak. “Tell me everything,” he whispered.
“She met him when she was visiting her sister, around the time you disappeared. His name is Jonus, and he owns his own land…a fine, large parcel. He’s a good, kind man, and he loves her. Oh, Lord Magnes! What was she to do? She had no hope with you, none at all, and we all know that’s the truth. You are the future duke! Your father would never consent to a marriage between my daughter and his Heir. When she found out that you’d gone off without a word to her, she cried for days. Her father and I were frantic. We feared she’d kill herself!”
“I couldn’t get word to her. There was no time,” Magnes murmured.
“Then, one day, Jonus showed up at our door, asking to speak to us about a proposal. He’d come all the way from Greenwood to make his case for our Livie. Well, we told him honestly that we didn’t think she was ready to marry, but Livie came out, dry-eyed and steady, and listened while he told her all of the reasons why he would make her a good husband.”
Magnes could not bear to look into Honoria’s eyes. “And she said yes.”
“Lord Magnes, Livie is eighteen years old. She needs to get started on a family of her own. She had a good man willing to make her an offer, a man who was right there and able to marry her. What could you have offered my daughter? Certainly not marriage!”
Magnes laid his head down on his hands. Mistress Honoria’s words felt like knives cutting into his flesh, but what made the pain so much worse was the truth of those words. He could see now, with such brutal clarity, the selfishness of his assumption that Livie would always remain willing to accept whatever crumbs of his life he could throw her, never demanding any more of him. How could he have been so cruel, so uncaring, so completely oblivious to the realities of what she needed?
Livie deserved a man who could love her and be a husband to her, a man who could give her legitimate children and help her build a secure life for their family.
The time had come to let Livie go.
He sat up and wiped his streaming eyes.
“The truth is often something that we don’t want to hear, yet we need to hear it, nonetheless,” he said.
Honoria nodded and patted his hand. “Jonus is a good man. He’ll cherish our Livie, I promise you.”
“I know he will because you have said it, Mistress Honoria.”
Magnes tossed off the tankard in one gulp and rose to leave. Honoria saw him out to the gate and waited while he mounted up. The two hounds sat quietly at her feet, watching mournfully, as if they could sense the great sadness that hung in the air.
“Farewell, Mistress. Give my regards to the warden,” Magnes said.
“Gods bless you, milord,” Honoria replied.
Magnes turned the mare’s head and urged her into a trot towards the road.
He did not look back.