Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1) (3 page)

“Rade, Chalis, Mikaren, my fellow Yagols,” Qabala continued, “let it be decreed that upon my ascension to the throne and the restoration of order, you shall be given lands, wealth, and a keep. Your descendants will rule those lands henceforth, and your families will be eligible to contribute to the new Aeternal Council.” She turned to the men. “For the Law of Eight shall be restored!”

“The Law of Eight!” the men cried.

Nerris frowned. She had not mentioned his name. Though he had no interest in staying in Yagolhan to till land and whelp spoiled nobles, he still felt a twinge of irritation. But why? Material rewards held no satisfaction for him anymore. He had been so wrapped up in his malaise upon what would happen at the Aeternica he hadn’t even considered rewards.

“Return to your duties with lighter minds,” Qabala said, “for our tyrannical foe lies dead along with one of his foremost Dume-Generals. Our victory nears, and the Blade of Yala is on our side. Go now, and prepare for our march to the capital.”

Lady Qabala turned and stepped back inside her pavilion. “Lady Qabala Aeterna! Unbreakable! Forever our queen!” Falares shouted, and the assembled men reciprocated.

Nerris turned back to his companions as the Horde dispersed. Chalis and Mikaren were already in animated conversation with one another about what they would do with their leader’s gifts. Mikaren concerned himself more with wealth, but Chalis’s foremost thought was obtaining a beautiful wife.

“She didn’t name you,” Rade said to Nerris.

He shrugged. “Can’t say Yagol lands interest me much, Rade.”

“Nor I, I confess,” Rade said. “I’m getting a little old for starting a family.”

Nerris laughed. “I’m sure we can find some gold-digging maiden to take your wrinkled body. Just make sure you live long enough to give her a son.”

Rade chuckled. “Why, Nerris, I believe that’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh.”

Falares stepped between them and cleared his throat. Rade backed away with a respectful nod, but Nerris met the man’s gaze. “It’s rude to interrupt a conversation, you know.”

“The Aeterna wishes to see you,” Falares said.

Nerris noted his breath reeked even worse than the rest of him. “Of course.” He smiled, but Falares glared at him. Nerris walked to the pavilion and pushed open the tent flap. Normally, Falares would have demanded he turn over his weapons first, but Nerris was on a very short list of people to be admitted to the Lady’s presence right away.

Inside, Qabala sat at a table, a map of Yagolhan spread before her. Stones at the corners weighted it down, and she moved painted figurines representing her army and King Lahnen’s into place. For a moment, Nerris envisioned a little girl playing with her dolls, but shook it off. Young though she may be, to attribute such a trite pastime to her was beneath him. She deserved more respect after all she had accomplished in the last year.

“Nerris Palada,” she said without looking up. “I see you were successful in your mission. I trust you came out unscathed?”

Nerris made a show of shaking his arms and checking his legs. “All parts seem to be in working order,” he said.

Qabala rose and met his gaze with bright jade eyes. “I know you want your surname kept a secret, so I didn’t reward you in front of everyone.”

“I noticed, your Ladyship.”

Qabala smirked. “Things have changed since last we saw each other. It’s
my Eternal
now.”

Nerris rolled his eyes. “A meaningless affectation until you win the throne.”

She stalked toward him. “I see you are as insolent as ever. Others have lost tongues for such talk.”

“Isn’t ripping out tongues the work of a tyrant?” Nerris asked. “If you truly want a new order, you might start with the way you deal with criticism.”

“Be that as it may,” Qabala said, moving even closer, “you have done this land a great service, mercenary or not, and I mean to give you your reward.”

She wrapped her arms around Nerris’s neck and pulled him toward her. Their lips met, and Qabala tensed against him. He wrapped his hands around her waist and returned the kiss, their bodies swaying back and forth as if the world itself teetered on the point of a needle. Finally, she released him.

“And it begins here,” she whispered. “As it happens, I like your tongue right where it is.”

Chapter Three

QABALA INDULGED IN a deep slumber, more peaceful than she had in quite some time. Perhaps because she did not deign to dream that night. Her dreams tended to recall the painful memories of her adolescence. Coupled with the life of a military leader, it made her a light sleeper. The squealing of a horse and a soldier shouting outside her pavilion woke her. Yawning, she turned to her right. Nerris lay there, still asleep, a faint smile on his lips.

Qabala sighed. He had dozed off before he could make his exit. She had called him to her tent for the past three nights, but when they were finished, she bade him to go. It would not do for the men to think of her as some kind of slattern, and Nerris understood that. Indeed, their secret liaison seemed to amuse him, and he left her pavilion every night with a smirk, similar to the one he wore now.

This man, this former Thrillseeker, intrigued her from the first moment she discovered his presence among her mercenaries, during the march from Lhan Del to Ryvetsk. He had been friendly to her, if distant, but something about him caused her to request his presence every evening of the march.

She supposed it was because of the mystery surrounding him. There were songs about the Thrillseekers in every inn and tavern across the continent, and more than a few lordly courts as well. Why did Nerris seek to hide his status? They had discussed everything, from swordplay to politics to philosophy, and she grew more enamored as each night went by. In all that time, he had never once laid a hand on her or made inappropriate overtures. The day he returned from Palehorse was the first time they ever touched.

Her gaze drifted upward, to where the stars would have been if not for the top of her pavilion. She had held a passion for stargazing since childhood, and regretted she had not been able to indulge since beginning this campaign. Her favorite constellation was Agean the Phoenix. To Qabala, it represented strength. Strength she had once sought and now possessed. In a few months, it would appear in the northern sky, and she would be in Palehorse by then, if all went well.

It was said the royal quarters in the Aeternica had an exquisite balcony facing the north. Her gaze drifted back to Nerris’s face. Perhaps they would see Agean together when the time came.

She brushed Nerris’s hair from his face and laid a soft kiss on his brow. He stirred and opened his eyes, clearing his throat. He looked upon her and gave another hint of a smile. “My lady.”

He said it so politely Qabala almost laughed. They were a bit beyond formalities at this point. “You fell asleep, dear. It’s morning.”

Nerris sat up, blankets falling to expose the dark hairs on his chest. “You should have woke me. Now the men will know I spent the night.”

Qabala pulled Nerris back down beside her, and laid her head on his chest. “It’s my fault. I don’t usually sleep this well. I thought I would awaken in time to shoo you out of here.”

Nerris put an arm around her and stroked her hair. “You don’t care?” That was another thing about him; his gentle touch, in stark contrast to other men she had known.

“Let us merely say I am growing used to your presence,” Qabala said. “I was most put out when you volunteered to go to Palehorse. I feared for you every night you were gone. Now that you’ve returned, I mean to keep you.”

“Don’t get too used to me,” Nerris said. “Once you’ve taken the capital, your war will be all but finished. Then I’ll be on my merry way.”

Qabala frowned. “There is still Prince Lahnel. At last report, he was in Kallov, trying to win the support of Lord Bosmick.”

“With Dume Araka dead at your hand, that should be easy enough,” Nerris said, “but if you can get to Palehorse before he arrives back in the east, you can cut him off from Lesta.”

Qabala nodded. “My thoughts exactly. It’s crucial we take Palehorse before winter sets in. I don’t just have my army with me, but my followers. Women, children, the elderly. My militia is made up of men looking to protect their families. Mere foraging will not be enough to see such a vast host through the winter. If their families begin to starve, my freemen may seek their fortunes elsewhere and we will be vulnerable for Lahnel and his forces to break the siege.”

“You’ll still outnumber them,” Nerris said.

“I don’t rely on numbers,” Qabala said. “I have a responsibility to win this war with as little loss to my people as possible. That’s why I will be sending a force west to meet Lahnel and the Bosmicks. At the least, it will give us much needed time.”

“Not time enough to take the city before winter,” Nerris disagreed.

Qabala allowed herself a smile. Even a mighty Thrillseeker could be trapped by convention, it would seem. But she was far from a conventional woman. “Refugees have been flooding Palehorse from the north for months now,” she said. “Like the idiot he was, Lahnen took them in. What he did not know was that these men and women are loyal to me. By now I suspect they outnumber the remainder of Lahnen’s city guard. At the appointed time, they will ensure the gates open for me.”

“And who is going to coordinate these refugees?”

“Our informant,” she told him. “Lukas Kord.”

Nerris let out his breath, and she knew she had impressed him. Lukas Kord was a member of a minor house from the Mount Zoko area who had worked his way up to a high rank in Palehorse’s city watch. He had also been taking bribes from her spies for the past year.

“You have a far reach, my lady,” Nerris said, “but you should always keep your strategies secret. Lover or no, I’m still... how does Falares put it? A foreign goat, I think he calls me. Which never made much sense to me, given that my own house’s sigil is a golden eagle. And when goats are kicked, they cringe and run away. I’m more like to kick back.”

Qabala giggled and kissed him on the cheek. “You are no goat, Nerris. Of that I am sure. You’re correct, I should only place this kind of trust in my own officers. That’s why I mean to change your status.”

“Come again?”

“I want you to lead the force I send against Prince Lahnel,” she said. “The greater part of King Lahnen’s army was routed and scattered at the Battle of the North Moor, and the king’s death has left the rest of his loyalists disoriented. Prince Lahnel may still be a considerable threat if allowed to link up with his forces under Dume Rhonor at Lesta. If you delay him long enough, I can dispose of Rhonor’s army before Lahnel even arrives. Once that happens, your men will disperse and allow Lahnel to proceed. You will then reform at his flank and we will hammer him between our two forces, and he will have nowhere to retreat. With that, the war will be ours.”

“Surely Lahnel would not be that stupid,” Nerris said.

“He is King Lahnen’s son,” Qabala insisted.

Nerris shrugged. “If you’re right, you’ll be the undisputed leader of Yagolhan. But the men will never follow a foreign mercenary.”

“They will follow a Thrillseeker,” Qabala said. “Every young man in this horde has grown up on the tales of the Thrillseekers, and their elders respect your prowess as well. Revealing who you are will be one more blow to Lahnen’s regime. Half my followers already believe I’m Yala reincarnated, and producing you will inspire them all the more.”

Nerris tensed. “I never want it known who I really am.”

“They will find out eventually,” Qabala said. “From what I hear, some of them already know. Besides, we haven’t even gotten to your true reward yet. What will you do when the fighting is done, Nerris? Sweat your flesh away fighting tribal wars down in Egkari? You’ll find no other battles in Tormalia at the moment. I implore you, stay here. You will not only have me, but I will make you part of the Aeternal Council. How does Dume Nerris sound to you?”

“Only a member of the Yagol nobility can be on the Council.”

“I mean to change that,” Qabala said. “For too long have my people been crushed under the monsters of the major houses.”

“You would make new monsters, then?”

Qabala frowned. She had envisioned this going much smoother. “Stay with me,” she repeated, “and not only will you be a Dume-General, but my consort. We will make strong sons to rule after us until the end of days.”

Nerris laughed, which made Qabala’s ire rise. She was giving him everything a normal man would want. What else would it take to keep him at her side?

Nerris glanced over and looked at her face. “I’m sorry. The thought of marrying an Aeterna sounds so absurd to me. I was raised in a rural village in the Great Oak Forest. My mother traded turnips and sold homemade jewelry for a living.”

“Yet you have noble blood yourself. Even the more conservative of my people would accept that.”

Nerris sat up again, disentangling himself from her. “I will lead your diversionary force, if that is your command. As for the Aeternal Council... once, when I was able to dream as you do now, I would have been tempted. Now I’m just a warrior looking for a battle to die in.” He removed his blankets and put on his underclothes.

Qabala sat up and threw the blankets off as well, exposing her full nude figure. She grabbed Nerris by the shoulders and threw him back onto the straw mattress, climbing on top of him. She gave him a hard look, and could feel his manhood stiffening beneath her. How dare this insolent man throw her offer in her face. How dare this insolent, complicated, wonderful man...

Before she could give him what for, Falares entered the pavilion and bowed, his long blond plait dropping past his shoulder. He looked up at Nerris and Qabala, his eyes going wide. Qabala sighed. The man still hadn’t learned to announce himself. She climbed off Nerris and stood, not bothering to hide her nakedness.

She put her hands on her hips. “What is it, Falares?”

The big man’s eyes scanned her body, but Qabala didn’t care. Every man in her army looked at her that way, and it gave her pleasure to tease one of them with what they could never have. Falares cleared his throat. “We are ready to break camp, my Eternal.”

“Excellent.” Qabala pulled the blanket up and wrapped herself in it as Nerris put his trousers back on. “I mean to arrive at Palehorse within a fortnight.”

Nerris coughed. “You have much to plan. I’ll leave you to it.” He gathered up the rest of his clothes, as well as his sword and scabbard.

“Wait, Nerris,” Qabala said. “You can’t just leave. The men will see you.”

He smiled. “I’m a Thrillseeker, my lady. We’re used to making our own exits.”

He drew his katana. It was a curved sword of folded steel from a distant land, which Qabala was unfamiliar with. With a mighty swipe, it made a tall slit in the tent wall. Nerris sheathed his blade and surveyed his work. “Problem solved. Now I can come and go unseen, and you won’t have to worry about calling me under the pretense of ‘strategic consultation.’ “ With a smirk and a wave, he disappeared through his improvised tent flap.

Falares sniffed. “You let that foreign goat talk to you that way?”

“That foreign goat could cut you to ribbons with that blade of his,” Qabala said. “Don’t ever forget that.”

“I do not understand why my Eternal places him high in her heart. The men expect better from their Aeterna.”

Qabala rolled her eyes. Of course he wouldn’t understand. Men like Falares were ruled by three priorities: eating, fucking, and fighting. Anything else was an abstract concept to them. “The men have their way with the camp followers every night, Falares. I merely claim the same comforts. They may think of me as a goddess, but that is not what I am. Not yet.”

Falares dropped to a knee and bowed his head. “Please do not say such things, my Eternal. You are the savior of our people, the dawn which routs the night. You have ended the reign of a foul tyrant and will give this kingdom back to its people.”

“And I don’t aim to stop there,” Qabala said, “but that does not make me any less than human. Give me half an hour and I will join you at the head of the column. Send in Meeka to draw my bath.” She thought for a moment. “I’ve changed my mind. Make that a full hour.”

Falares saluted and left the pavilion. Qabala went to the metal tub and placed her hand on the rim, waiting for her handmaiden. The tub was big enough for two, and Qabala wished she had stopped Nerris from leaving so soon. They could have washed each other clean as she needled away at him until he accepted her proposal. But she would win that battle, as she intended to win the one coming against Prince Lahnel.

A short time later, Meeka entered with a pail full of hot water. The mousy blonde sloshed it into the tub and left the tent, returning with more water until the tub was full. Finally, she made one last trip and came back with a hank of soap and a clean rag.

Qabala let her blanket fall and climbed into the tub. “Put the soap in the pail,” she told the servant, “and join me.”

Meeka cast her eyes downward and nodded. As she removed her cloth dress, Qabala leaned back to submerge her hair in the warm water. Lahnel would be in for a nasty surprise if he came east, and Nerris would be with her, where he belonged. By the time the winter flurries floated down, she would have all she desired.