Many Roads Home (25 page)

“They look happy,” Yveni said.

“They do. I won’t disturb them. I wanted a bit of peace and quiet before Ferdi asked for a report.”

“Do you mind me being—?”

Gil raised his hand. “It’s fine, lad. I only meant a break from talking of battles and archery.”

“I know what you mean.”

He took a seat on a hay bale and Gil did the same. The mare and foal ignored them, but Yveni found it curiously settling to watch them. Such a normal, happy activity, even with war about to descend on them.

“You know, if you want to talk to me, Yveni…about…marriage or brides…or other matters, you can. I’d never judge you.”

“I know. Gil…I don’t want to wed. Ever.”

Gil sipped his tea and regarded him calmly. “Thought not. But if you could marry a certain tall and handsome healer, would you?”

“I don’t
know
. My feelings…they’re all churned up. I like him, I want him, I miss him, and when he moved out, I couldn’t think of anything else. But do I love him? And even if I do, does he love me, and can a grand duc have a male lover instead of a wife?”

“Deep questions, lad. Last first. Yes, why not? Your father’s first wife had no children, and the duchy was in no danger of collapsing. If you and your sisters hadn’t been born to his second wife, there were other successors. Distant relatives, certainly, but still in the family.”

“But with Konsatin—”

“Konsatin’s a separate problem. Leave him out since we have no idea what he’ll do, and you having a dozen children probably wouldn’t stop him. If you don’t wish to wed, then don’t. Even an arranged marriage should have something of desire between the partners.”

“Paole set me aside because he said people would look down on me for having a male lover. That Konsatin would use it against me.”

“True, he might. But it won’t be true forever, lad. Do you love him or not?”

Yveni sighed. “I really don’t know. How did
you
know?”

Gil laughed. “Sofia told me. Then she said we were to be married, and she’d be pregnant within the year so I could damn well get on with that too.”

“Really?” This was one story he’d not heard before.

“Oh yes. I didn’t argue. I figured it was her Sight. Now of course, I realise she knew I’d never get around to organising things so she took me in hand. Just as well.”

“I can’t imagine you not being married to her.”

“Nor I, so it worked out fine.” Gil smiled, as if at a memory. “I can’t answer your question about Paole, lad. I hate watching you two eat your hearts out the way you have been.”

“He? He’s pining?”

“Not as winsomely as you, no, but in his own quiet way. He doesn’t show all his emotions on his face the way you do. But if that man’s happy about not being with you, I’ll eat this hay bale and wash it down with mare’s milk.”

Yveni considered the image and shuddered. “Doesn’t matter now though. None of us are likely to see out the week, no matter what you said before.”

“Maybe we will and maybe we won’t. But we’re talking about here and now, aren’t we.”

“He doesn’t want to go to Sardelsa. Can’t blame him. And having a male lover won’t be as hard to swallow as him being Uemirien.”

Gil nodded. “All factors to consider, to be sure. But the first thing you two need to do is sort out how you feel about each other, and go from there. Yveni, you’re but nineteen. You have two years before you could claim the throne. Two years to be with him and build a relationship, if you want. If you don’t want to be with him for reasons of taste or compatibility, then fine. But don’t let cowardice be a reason.”

“He set
me
aside a whole year ago.”

“Yes. Because he cares about you. He’s a very brave man, Paole. A selfless man too. You could search a long time and never find a lover to better him.”

“You’re matchmaking, Gil.”

“Oh, you finally noticed, Your Grace.”

Yveni wrinkled his nose at him.

“You’ll have to be discreet, just as you need to conceal your identity. But not from your friends, lad. Not from me and Sofia and Raina, not those who love you and care for you. None of us give a damn who you love, so long as you’re happy, and we’d never betray your secrets.”

Yveni threw his arms around Gil’s neck and hugged him. “I know that. Gods, I wish you weren’t here because I want you all to be safe, but I’m glad you’re here anyway. It almost makes up for losing Father.”

Gil patted his back. “Ah, lad, I could never replace him, but when he died, I vowed to look after the three of you. Haven’t done a great job at it, but if I can mend this one small wrong, then it’s something.” Yveni set him free. “We should go inside. I don’t know what will happen over the next few days, but live for now, and while you can. The future will happen no matter what we do.”

“I want to change it, though.”

“So do I. And in my heart I believe we will. So hold on to that.”

Yveni submitted in silence to Paole smearing the soothing salve all over his face. He could make nothing of his friend’s expression, nor of the careful, impersonal care he took in his task. “There. You’ll sleep easier without that stinging.”

“Thank you. What about your eyebrows?”

Paole grinned. “Oh, they don’t hurt. Could have been worse. Could have blown my hand off. Nearly did.”

“Be careful!”

“It’s not as if I wanted to do that, Yveni. Accidents happen.”

“They’re not allowed to.” He risked bending forward and kissing Paole’s fingers. “I want you whole.”

“So do I.” He pulled away and went to the dresser to set the salve down.

“Sleep with me again?”

“Yveni…”

“Gil knows. He’s not shocked. In fact he thinks we should be together. He says no one here would talk about it and we should do what’s right for us.”

“You don’t think this is badly timed?”

“Yes I do. I meant sleep. Nothing else. I need you, and I want you. Unless you’re a wonderful actor, you want me too.”

“No, I’m no actor. But what if we survive it?”

He’d walked over to Yveni who now grabbed his shirt and dragged him close. “We talk. And this time, I won’t be pushed away like some innocent maiden.”

“All right. You have the most to lose, you realise.”

“Yes. So it’s me who should decide. Unless…you don’t…care for me? I mean, it’s been a year and maybe you—”

Paole made him shut up by kissing him. “No, Your Grace. That’s not anything to worry about.”

Yveni grinned. “Oh good. So all we have to do is beat the invading army and come out in one piece. Easy.”

“Simple as collecting eel sperm.”

“Is that easy?”

“It’s bloody impossible. But so is beating kirten fever, and escaping from slavers, and surviving shipwrecks. I’m going to hang on your shirttails, Your Grace, because you do have the most amazing luck.”

“I do, don’t I. Remember, it’s a promise now. We’ll talk.”

“We’ll talk.” Paole kissed him again. “But now we’ll sleep.”

In Paole’s arms, yes, he would. And maybe they would collect some eel sperm, despite the odds.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Arms and shoulders stiff and sore from the previous day’s exertions, Yveni and Gil hauled themselves back out to the makeshift archery range the next morning. They had already sifted out the best archers from yesterday’s cohort and sent the less able ones on to work with slingshots and other weapons. This morning they had to quickly assess a new group, and likewise send away those with faulty aim. They only wanted the finest shots on the seawall because they would have just one chance, and every arrow had to find its mark.

Ferdi had provided the two of them with wide straw hats, which helped, but the sun was still blisteringly hot, and an evil wind kept whipping up the sand and blowing it into their faces. They couldn’t stop, though, because the weather could be equally hostile on the day of the attack. The archers would have to cope.

“Master Gaelin! Master Gaelin!”

Yveni gave the order to shoot and turned to the lad running up to them. “Yes?”

The boy panted with exertion, and gulped. “Governors need you at the fort. You too, Master Gil.”

“Damn. Gil, Migel and Jaime can take over, can’t they?”

“Let me find them. I hope this won’t take long. Men, take a break!”

The archers flopped gratefully onto the sand or headed for the water butts to drink their fill while they could. Gil’s sons came over from the lance practice area and Gil gave them brief instructions. Yveni and Gil had just separated the group by ability so the rest of the morning was practice. Hopefully they would be back by the afternoon.

Yveni mopped his face with his sleeve. “What’s it about?” he asked the messenger. He was little more than a child, and Yveni suspected he should have gone with the evacuees. He wouldn’t be the only boy to lie about his age to remain.

“No idea, sir. The governors are excited about something, that’s for sure.”

Yveni looked at Gil who shrugged. “Find out soon enough, won’t we?”

At the fort, one of the governor’s clerks greeted them, and after offering them water that they gratefully accepted, ushered them into the council chamber where the governors had assembled. The oldest governor, Leandro, rose. “Please take a seat, Your Grace. Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“You’re welcome. What’s going on?”

“Our seers have Seen something which may affect matters quite seriously. You recognise this design, do you not?”

Leandro held up a piece of paper with the image of a white stag over a sunburst drawn roughly in charcoal. Even with this crude likeness, Yveni knew it instantly. “The Sardelsan standard! Where—”

“The three ships are flying it. They’re Sardelsan forces, Your Grace.”

Yveni stared in bewilderment. “Why would Sardelsa attack Horches? What possible interest could Konsatin have in your country?”

“I don’t know, but as you can see, this is something that materially affects you.”

Yveni turned to Gil. “Any ideas?”

Gil shook his head, frowning as he looked at the drawing of the flag. “None at all. Unless this is another part of his anti-Uemirien campaign, but what benefit is there in pursuing us back to our homeland?”

“None. He’s insane. But I can’t be part of an attack on my own people, Governor.”

Leandro bowed. “Of course not. We, uh…could place you in custody, but there’s little sentiment in support of that. I should warn you that your identity could be a liability after the attack.”

“Yes. Gods, this is… No! What am I thinking? I can stop this! I’m the heir. They owe me allegiance. I can command them to halt and withdraw.”

“Yveni,” Gil murmured. “You can’t guarantee they’ll listen.”

“No, but I have to try. I can’t sit by and let a city I love be destroyed by my people, all for the ambitions of that bastard.” One of the governors coughed but Yveni ignored him. “Bastard” was the least of the things Konsatin should be called. “Governor Leandro, I’ll meet them on the beach. Your forces can lie in wait, in hiding. I won’t reveal your plans, so long as you give me a chance to request a peaceful withdrawal.”

“Your Grace, you can’t go to meet them on your own, unguarded.”

“But I can’t ask anyone else to go with me.”

“I’ll go. My boys will go and so will Paole,” Gil declared.

But Leandro raised his hand. “I forbid that. You and Master Paole are too important to our defence. We can’t risk having you and your sons or any other key officers killed at the start of the battle.”

“He’s right, Gil. I forbid it too.”

“But to go on your own—they might not even believe you’re who you say you are.”

Yveni pushed back his sleeve and showed the tattoo. “There’s the proof. But with the governors’ permission, I can make a little bit of a showing if I have the aid of a tailor and some cloth.”

“And a horse?” Gil said. “By then Luna can be ridden with care.”

“If Ferdi agrees.”

Leandro spoke. “Your Grace, a small escort of our people could be permitted. Some of our firemakers, perhaps the mind controllers, since they’ll be on the beach anyway. A person of your rank should have a guard. I’ll go too.”

“No! That I can’t allow,” Yveni insisted as a clamour of polite protest broke out among the six governors.

“Your Grace, may I remind you who rules in Horches? I’ll go, and that’s final.”

“No, Leandro, I will.” Another governor stood. “I’m childless and a widower. I also speak Tueler. You have a family. I beg to be allowed this honour.”

“I don’t need anyone—” But Yveni was silenced by a stern look from Leandro.

“Raul, we can discuss this. One of us will be at His Grace’s side, and we’ll be accompanied by a suitable escort. Your Grace, what do you need?”

“A standard, tidy clothes and tabards for the escort in Uemirien colours. And if we fail, you’d best have a good defence ready. Please don’t give me access to any more plans.”

“Very well, Your Grace. If you’d care to return to your home, I’ll send what you need there. Master Gil, I’m sure you want the choosing of the escort.”

“I do indeed.” Gil’s frown looked permanently etched on his brow. “Yveni, this is most likely to fail.”

“Governor Leandro, what do the seers See?”

“A confusion. The future is too finely balanced. I have been counselled not to speak to you of specifics.”

“I understand. It won’t make a difference to my plans. Gil, will you come back now?”

“For an hour or two. Paole will wring your neck, lad.”

“Um…yes.” Yveni hadn’t thought about the impact on those closest to him. “Raina too when she hears of it. Hopefully she’ll hear it from me.”

Leandro coughed politely. “Your Grace…”

“Yes, sorry. We should be going.” Yveni stood and bowed. “Your courtesy and kindness won’t be forgotten, governor. One day I’ll rule in Sardelsa, and we’ll be your friends once more.”

“I look forward to that day, Your Grace.”

Paole came barrelling into the storeroom two hours later. Yveni and two tailors had set themselves up there to work on a Sardelsan flag for him to carry as he met the army. Unfortunately Gil had left a few minutes earlier, so there was no one to hide behind.

“A word in your ear, ‘Gaelin’?”

“Not now, I’m busy.”

Paole stood in front of them with his legs spread, arms folded, an imposing man-mountain. An extremely angry man-mountain. “Don’t make me come over and pick you up, boy.”

One of the tailors looked up in shock, doubtless amazed at the disrespect being shown to the vicont. “Uh, never mind him,” Yveni reassured him. “He’s a friend.”

“Gaelin, I’m waiting.”

Yveni gave Paole a dirty look. “Carry on. I won’t be long,” he said to the tailors, while keeping his eyes firmly on his ill-mannered visitor.

Paole wanted to go at it in the house foyer, but Yveni insisted he come out the back to the courtyard instead. He squared off to Paole, determined to have his say first.

“Before you start, nothing you say is going to change my mind, and it was the governors’ decision not to let you go with me.”

“That’s not why I’m angry. Why did I have to hear about it from one of their minions instead of you? Some damn friend you are, Yveni.”

“Oh. I, uh…”

“Knew I’d be worried sick so you decided not to face me. Last time we had a serious quarrel it was because you avoided talking to me. Do you want another fight?”

“No. But this isn’t anything to do with you. It’s my business as heir.”

Paole shook him by the shoulders. “The hell it’s not, boy. You’re mine, and I want to know what affects you, even if I can’t change it.”

“Yours?”

“Bought and paid for.”

Even with Paole’s anger, Yveni wanted to grin at the fierce possessiveness. Warmth warred with irritation, and finally won out. He rather liked the idea of being Paole’s, so long as chains weren’t involved. “What about those manumission papers?”

Paole scowled. “You’re still mine. And don’t be smart. Is Gil going to protect you?”

“Not directly. The governors can’t afford to lose people like you, and I agree. But he’s putting together a squad of men with useful gifts. I’m not that much more at risk than I would have been anyway.”

“You damn well are. They could cut you down before they reach the sand. You won’t get a word out.”

“That’s why we’re making the standard. The mind controllers will cast confusion if they sense an attack, and Gil’s planning cover from behind the sea wall. I have to do this, Paole. It’ll save lives on this side and those of my people. They don’t need to die.”

“No. Will they accept you as duc?”

“No, because I won’t be. But I can claim their allegiance and hopefully turn them away from Konsatin. I can’t pretend it’s a sure thing. But it’s my duty.”

Paole pulled him close and hugged him. “If I lose you…”

“If I lose
you
. This is for you and Gil, not just me. If this works, no one has to die.” He looked up and Paole kissed him. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you. It was all such a rush.”

“Forgiven but in future, don’t hide from me. It doesn’t help.”

“No. You should go back to work.”

“I’ll take some lunch here. Is there anything I can do?”

“No. The only weapons we’ll be carrying will be sword and bow. If there’s a fight, our best chance is to run. Ferdi’s letting me use Luna. There’s another horse which had pulled up lame but will probably be all right for a short walk, which Governor Raul will ride.”

“It’ll be an impressive show,” Paole admitted grudgingly.

“That’s what we hope.” He took Paole’s hand. “Come and eat. But wash up first—you reek of gunpowder.”

The flag was finished by the evening of the following day, along with a light, strong flagstaff and a leather flag cup on a belt custom-made for Yveni’s measurements. The tailors completed the tabards at their own shops, so Yveni was left kicking his heels at Ferdi’s house, forbidden to go near the training grounds. He could only look after Luna and Mathias, who didn’t need much beyond feeding and watering, and fletch hundreds of arrows for Gil, a task deemed safe enough for an “enemy”. No one seriously saw him as one, not yet. But if the Sardelsan force succeeded in their attack, Yveni would have to choose sides. He couldn’t bring himself to think about it, and Gil and Paole, with unusual tact, didn’t raise it either. Ferdi had only clapped him on the shoulder and said the plan would work so not to worry about it. Yveni wished he had the old man’s optimism.

The city felt like a strung wire, vibrating with tension and anticipation, the day before the ships were to arrive. Grim-faced men walked the streets, worried about their own fates and those of their families. Gil’s sons came to call that evening, conducting quiet conversations with their father in a huddle, before plastering on smiles as they joined Yveni and Ferdi for supper. Paole worked late into the night that final evening, stumbling home and allowing Yveni to feed him tea and thick meat stew before he fell into bed half-dressed, with Yveni holding him close.

Yveni couldn’t sleep. He’d chafed for so long that he’d been unable to help those closest to him, or even himself—his sisters, the captured Uemirien children, Gerd, had all suffered without him being able to affect their fates. Now thousands of people and a grand old city—an entire country, no less—placed their trust in him and his claim to the ducal throne. Yveni could only place
his
faith in the honesty and loyalty of the soldiers coming on those ships. But what if they weren’t Sardelsans at all? What if they were from Enholt? Or Karvis? This could all go horribly wrong.