Warprize (43 page)

I let them stew for a while, not so much listening to any one voice, but trying to catch the general tone. I’d diagnosed my patient, now all I had to do was convince the patient that the treatment would work, no matter how bad the taste.

I put my shoulders back, called the room to order and called on Lord Warren to speak first. By all rights, it would have been better to have gone about this slowly, persuasively, and tactfully, approaching the councillors individually. I had time for none of that. If this were to happen, it had to happen quickly.

Step by step I took them through my reasoning. We poured over the maps of the surrounding kingdoms, and scrutinized the potential marriages in agonizing detail. Of the six potential rulers, three were already married, with heirs. One was a woman. One was age five, and the last one had a streak of madness that ran through the male side of the family. To my astonishment, there were advocates for this alliance, until they were silenced by their peers.

A marriage with one of the local nobility caused a great deal of ruckus. There were a few second sons that might have qualified, except that many of the lords hated one another. I sat back in my chair and let them have at it. Simus was having a wonderful time, although his command of Xyian was not strong enough to follow all of the rapid cursing and swearing. I happened to catch Othur staring at me at one point. I tried to catch his eye, but he looked away. Finally, I had to take a stand and stop the discussion. It was getting no where and we were losing time.

The discussion about potential heirs was very short. Everyone knew my cousins and no one wanted to see them on the throne of Xy.

It was during the discussion on taxes and tithes that I got my first indication that I had support. Lord Warren stood and held up a hand. “I believe that Xylara is right. If she claims the title of Warprize, it will bring more good than harm to the Kingdom of Xy.” Warren looked around the room, then focused on Othur. “I’ve dealt with the Warlord first hand, and I know that he is a man on whom we can depend. I say that we should support the Daughter of Xy in her decision.” He took a seat as the members of the council talked among themselves.

Masterweaver Meris popped up. “The merchants support this decision as well.” She popped back down. Thank the Goddess for mercantile instincts. We weren’t going to have to debate the benefits of expanded trade. The way Meris kept eyeing Simus, I’d had no doubt she’d support me.

“Well, I’m against it.” The Archbishop rose ponderously from his chair. “We are talking about binding a Daughter of Xy to little more than a barbarian, and a heathen barbarian at that. Goddess forbid.”

Having anticipated this argument, I rose from my chair. “Perhaps now would be a good time to speak privately and refresh ourselves.”

The servants brought in fresh drinks and offered mugs of soup and warm bread. I circled the room, talking to each councilor for a moment, smiling at each one, and made sure that I ended up at the side of the Archbishop. Deacon Browdus stood at his side. “Devoted One.” I sat next to him. “May I speak with you privately?”

“Of course, Daughter of Xy.” The Archbishop lowered himself in the chair next to me, adjusting his robes. Deacon Browdus took up his usual position, just behind the Archbishop, a stern frown on his face.

“Devoted One, before we go much further with our council, I feel that I must draw your attention to the sleeping arrangements while I was in the Warlord’s camp.”

“Sleeping arrangements?” Drizen’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Where did you sleep?”

I waited until he was mid-sip with his tea. “In the Warlord’s bed, Devoted One.”

He choked on the tea, splattering his vestments. Wide-eyed, he waved off the Deacon’s assistance, and mopped at his robes with a cloth. “Child, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that while in the camp of the Warlord, I slept in the Warlord’s bed, Devoted One.”

“Oh, my poor child.” His face flushed.

“Devoted One, I have wished to discuss this matter with you, for it troubles me greatly.”

“Child, I—” Archbishop Drizen shifted in his chair as his face grew redder. “There’s no need to share the details—”

“My thanks for your willingness to spare me, Devoted One, but I feel that you must know the truth.”

“T-truth?” Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead as he set down his tea, and let his eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape.

“I am no longer a virgin, Devoted One.” I took a sip of tea to give him time to absorb the information.

“Really?” he squeaked. Deacon Browdus’s face was pinched up and his eyes were bugged out.

“Yes, Devoted One.” I looked him straight in the eye. “A foreign prince might have a problem accepting that.”

The poor man blushed deeper. “I’m certain that allowances would be made, Daughter of Xy.”

“Alas, Devoted One, not everyone is as forgiving as you.” Since during the last sermon I attended he had discussed that very point in great detail, I was sure he’d see it as a difficulty.

“It could pose a problem, my child.” He sucked in air, and let it out slowly. “I’m encouraged that the Warlord seems to respect our traditions.”

I inclined my head. “During my short time with his people, it seemed that they were tolerant of our beliefs.” I rose from my chair. “My thanks, Devoted One. Your words have brought me comfort.”

He looked relieved and confused at the same time. “You are always welcome to confide in me, Xylara.”

I moved toward the window, anxious to check that Keir was still here. Simus had assured me that he wouldn’t move any earlier than stated, but my heart feared otherwise. A quick glance out the window told me that they were making preparations, but they were still there.

Othur moved up next to me, mug in hand. We stood for a moment in uncomfortable silence. “Othur—”

“Lara—”

We both chuckled, but Othur shook his head when I tried to speak. “No. Me first.” He lifted a hand to tug on one of my curls. “You are like a daughter to Anna and me, Lara. Don’t fault us for wanting to protect you.”

Tears filled my eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I whispered.

Othur turned to look out the window. “I’ve thought long and hard about this, Lara. Have to admit that I prayed about it was well. Tried to imagine what your father would say. When you removed that brooch from Simus’s cloak, you were trying to save a life. A worthy goal. But kings and queens must look beyond the individual and work for the benefit of the people and the land as a whole.” He turned back to me. “You’d learn to be a great queen, Lara, but you would be miserable and lose a part of your soul in the process. The day would come when you’d make the right decision, but the weight of it would haunt you forever, haunted by the lives you sacrificed rather than rejoicing in the lives you saved. You are of the Blood, but I can’t wish that fate on you. Even more, it’s hard to admit that our chick has grown wings.” He considered my face with a wry smile. “Your arguments make good sense, Lara.” He sighed, and looked out the window. “This is what you want?” He gave me a sideways glance. “Or rather, who you want?”

I nodded, then put my hand up to make sure the crown stayed straight.

“And who will rule in your stead, Daughter of Xy?” There was no condemnation in his eyes, just honest concern. “Have you thought that far ahead?”

I smiled at him, my heart feeling a bit lighter. “Are you familiar with The Epic of Xyson?”

He grunted. “Yes, but I was hoping you wouldn’t remember.” His tired eyes sparkled with a touch of his old humor. “Very well. You have my support, Warprize.” He nodded toward the group behind us. “And you’ll have their support once they settle down. Make an excuse to leave the room for a bit, and let Warren and I talk to them.”

Simus came up to us at that point, limping slightly, mug in one hand, a plate of Anna’s tarts in the other. “Try one of these.”

Othur and I each took one. One bite, and I knew where the bitterest opponent of my plan lay. I looked up into Simus’s dark eyes ruefully. “Apparently I have angered the cook.”

Simus nodded.

“Word must have gotten down to the kitchens.” Othur dropped his tart back onto the plate. “You’d better go talk to her.”

“She’s your wife.”

Othur arched an eyebrow. “You’re the Daughter of Xy, and Warprize. This is one duty that you cannot abrogate.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

As usual, the castle kitchen was hot, overcrowded, and cluttered. The staff seemed particularly frantic, and I’d heard Anna berating a maid for breaking a dish before I’d even entered the room. She was scolding everyone, standing in the center of the kitchen, wielding her wooden spoon, her apron covered in food stains. I eased in the door, and stood for a moment, just watching her. She was upset, and taking it out on everyone in sight.

One of the servants noticed me and said something to Anna. She stiffened and jerked her head around, setting her chins to jiggling. I withstood the scorching by lifting my chin. She scowled. “Food not to your liking, eh, missy?”

“Anna—”

“Here now, keep turning that spit!” Anna cursed at the young boy who was turning the meat. She turned back to me, her face hard. “Rumor has it that you’re wanting to follow after that barbarian.”

“Anna—”

Her face changed in an instant, crumpling before my eyes.

“Why? Tell me that? He let you go, gave you back to us. Why would you want to go?” She collapsed onto one of the stools, which creaked in protest. The room went silent, as everyone stared.

I gestured for the servants to leave, and they filed out, after taking the various meats and stews off the fires. Once the room was empty, I went to Anna, who still sobbed, and put my arms around her. I lay my head atop hers, and let her cry.

Othur came in. He knelt before her and rubbed her knees with his large hands. “Anna.”

She sniffed, her face red and tear-streaked. Othur reached into a pocket and handed her a large white handkerchief. She took it and blew her nose. “We just got her back, safe and well, why can’t she stay?” Anna sobbed, her chins wobbling. “There’s no reason for her to leave.”

I lifted my head and took a breath, but Othur took one of Anna’s hands in his own. With the other, he pulled me down to kneel next to him. “Anna, my love, look at her.”

Anna looked at me with reddened eyes.

“Anna, the eyrie’s open and our chick has flown. The truth is that she wants to go.”

“Truly?” Anna squinted at me and frowned. Something she saw made her eyes widen. “You’ve lost your heart to that barbarian, haven’t you?”

My eyes filled, and I tried to smile and nod at her at the same time.

“Besides which,” Othur spoke softly, “she’s convinced me and the entire Council that it’s in the best interest of the Kingdom that she go.”

“Well.” Anna pulled her hands free and mopped her eyes with her apron. “Just so you know, whoever sits on the throne will not get one bite of food from my kitchen worth eating.”

Othur sighed heavily. “A hard thing to be starved to death by your own wife.”

“Eh?”

“Anna, I am going to name Othur Warden of the Kingdom of Xy. He will rule in my stead while I am with the Warlord.”

“Please say that you will feed me, lady wife.” Othur stood and hugged her, as she burst out crying all over again.

The morning of Keir’s departure dawned bright and clear. As the sun left the horizon, the front runners of the Warlord’s army moved out, scouting the way for the bulk of the army to follow. Simus and I watched from the walls, wrapped in cloaks.

“He will kill me, you know,” Simus spoke morosely.

I glanced at him from under my hood. “No, Simus. The blame will rest on me. Keir won’t hold you responsible.”

Simus snorted. “It’s not Keir I’m worried about, Warprize. It’s Joden. He will be furious that he missed seeing this. At least let me send a messenger—”

“No. I’ll not risk Keir getting wind of what I intend to do. If it’s Joden you’re worried about, then send him a letter and describe it to him. But wait awhile. This might not work.”

“A letter?” Simus rolled his eyes. “Warprize, I can’t—”

“You tell your words to someone, and they write them down for you.”

“Ah.” Simus looked pleased.

I continued my watch out over the valley. “How long before they leave?”

“Keir usually sends the scouts out two hours before the army moves.” I turned and smiled at Simus, who just shook his head, his gold earring swaying in his ear. “Warprize, they will sing of this for a thousand years.”

I just smiled and headed down off the battlements. The guards bowed to me as I moved quickly back into the castle and headed for the throne room.

It was one of the fastest coronations in the history of the Kingdom of Xy, shorn of its ceremony and pomp. We’d gathered the nobles, merchants, and the entire palace staff as witnesses.

Once I was officially Queen of Xy, Simus came forth, and I knelt before him and repeated all of the oaths that Xymund had made for the peace.

I then summoned Othur forth, and in a ceremony pulled directly from The Epic of Xyson made him Warden of Xy during my absence.

The public announcement of my decision was harder, for the people were nervous as to its wisdom. Funny that they had been fairly confident when I’d surrendered myself into a form of slavery. Now that I was fighting for something I wanted, they weren’t so sure of themselves. But I’d made sure that the discussions in the Council chamber had been made public knowledge, and there was no outward resistence to my plans.

As I made my private goodbyes to Othur, Anna and Warren outside the great double doors, Simus stood close with the reins of our horses. Warren had a frown on his face. “Lara, what if the Warlord will not accept you back? What then?”

I took a deep breath and mounted my horse, thankful that no one else had asked this question. It was one that had weighed heavily on my mind. “I’ll deal with it if and when it happens, Warren. Not before.”

With that, we turned our horses toward the gate and left the castle.

So it was that Simus and I were on the rise that overlooked the road when Keir’s army began to move. The road stretched for long miles down the valley to eventually reach the plains. A well-worn path, it was trampled dirt for miles and miles. The day was clear and crisp, with a slight breeze. It would be cold when the sun sank behind the mountains.