Parno's Destiny: The Black Sheep of Soulan: Book Two (50 page)

“M-m-m-milord?” she stammered. “How may I help you, sire?” she recovered quickly.

“I would like to see Miss Huble, please,” Memmnon replied amiably. “Would you ask her if she would receive me?”

“Please come in, sire,” Amelia backed out of the way, opening the door wider. Memmnon stepped inside and stifled a laugh at how feminine his brother's rooms had become in a few short weeks. Doctor Freeman had reluctantly agreed to stay on as the current Royal Physician, at least until Memmnon was completely recovered and someone suitable to take her place had been found. Parno had urged her to do so as the palace, now, was a very safe place to be. Winnie had stayed as well, though more reluctantly.

And now Memmnon was recovered enough to stand without assistance and walk unaided, save for a cane to steady him when needed. So here he was.

“I'll go and fetch her, sire,” Amelia said, closing the door. She hurried away as if afraid Memmnon would chase her. He heard a startled squawk from within and soon Amelia was back, looking apologetic.

“It will be only a moment, sire,” she curtsied. “Miss Huble is preparing. Would you care to sit?” she waved to the sofas. “I could summon something to eat or drink, of course.”

“I'm fine, thank you,” he nodded, moving to take a seat near the window. He forced himself to be patient as he gazed out the window, eyes taking in the city beyond. He had known he'd be king someday, but had thought it would be some time yet. While not unprepared, he was surprised, and was only just now adjusting to it. He missed his father. Unlike Parno, Memmnon had enjoyed a good relationship with Tammon, all in all. He missed his father's steady hand. While he had not been a good father to Parno, he had been to Memmnon, and had been a good king.

“Milord,” a soft voice drew him from his thoughts and he turned to see Winifred standing in the doorway, her red hair cascading down a green blouse that was complimented by black trousers and soft leather brown boots. His eyes showed faint merriment at the dagger on her hip. There was only so much compromise she was willing to endure, it seemed.

“Miss Huble,” he rose smoothly, though not perhaps as smoothly as he once would have. “You look lovely as ever,” he told her, delighting in her blush.

“Thank you,” she attempted a curtsy, and managed it barely. More or less.

“I was wondering if you'd care to walk in the garden with me, my lady?” Memmnon asked and her blush deepened.

“I'm no lady, sire,” she said softly, though she looked directly at him.

“I beg to differ, Miss Huble,” Memmnon replied at once. “You are every inch the lady and I desire your company very much if you would so honor me.” He held a hand out to her tentatively. Winnie hesitated only a few seconds before accepting it. Memmnon touched his lips to the back of her hand and motioned to the door.

“Shall we, then?”

*****

Doak Parsons looked down from his vantage point and fought not to swear, since someone might hear him. As it was his lookout was shaking his arm to point toward an approaching outrider. Parsons lifted a hand signifying that he had seen him, but kept looking, raising his glass again.

Banner after banner moved in the wind as the long column of soldiers moved south, snaking along more than one road. He had men watching them all, counting as they went. Lowering the glass once more he frowned at the insistent shaking. Acknowledging that their position was no longer tenable, he pulled back, eliciting a sigh of relief from his companion. The two slipped down the hill to their waiting horses and were soon on their way, galloping to stay well ahead of the scouts behind them.

Near dusk they met with the rest, some miles further south though still behind enemy lines. Using an abandoned barn for shelter, Parsons collected information from the others and compiled it into one report on his map. The news was bad.

At least thirty thousand Imperial troops were marching into the Tinsee Valley, on their way to join the Imperial Army threatening Soulan. At least that many because none of his men had gotten close enough to ensure there weren't more behind them. The Nor were being very careful, scouting far and wide to screen their movements from men just like him.

He examined the map for some time before making his decision. This had to get to the prince.

“We head back in the morning,” he ordered. “Set a guard, two hour watches, no fire. We'll eat good when we get home, but it's hardtack and jerky tonight, boys, or we'll have Nor heathen on us before morning.”

No on argued. Parson looked at the map and his notebook once more before putting it away. He hoped his prince had a plan for this.

Because an entire new army headed their way would change everything.

THE END

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