Shalador's Lady

“So who has been taking care of the Queen’s duties there while you’ve been visiting Theran here?”

Anger flashed through Theran. Had Kermilla heard the criticism in that question?

Kermilla put aside the flirtatious playfulness as easily as she might put aside a shawl. She gave Ferall a look at the Queen beneath the young-woman banter. “Dharo is an old Territory with a strong web of Queens. The village I rule can be run very well by my Steward and Master of the Guard for the time being. I am kept apprised of what is happening there and would return home in an instant if I was urgently needed.” She placed her hand on Theran’s arm. “I am not negligent in my duties, Prince Ferall, which is what you are implying. But a village that is well established requires little supervision from its Queen, so I offered to stay and give Theran whatever assistance I can in repairing the damage that has been done to his people.”

Her speech warmed Theran’s heart, but Ferall seemed less impressed. He gave Theran a hard look and said, “I thought that’s why Lady Cassidy came here. I thought that’s why we all agreed to have her as the Queen. And she didn’t leave the people she’d promised to rule in order to ‘give assistance.’ ”

Where was that anger coming from? Theran wondered. Nothing Kermilla said should have offended Ferall that much. Unless he wanted to be offended for some reason?

Kermilla, however, felt the punch in Ferall’s words. “No, she didn’t leave her people,” she snapped. “She didn’t have any. She wasn’t Queen enough to hold on to her court!”

“Kermilla,” Theran said in soft warning, touching her wrist again.

Kermilla pulled away from him. “And where is Cassidy now? Here in the capital city? No. She’s in some cow-dung village that belongs to a people the rest of you would rather pretend don’t exist.”

“Hold your tongue, girl,” Ferall snarled. “You don’t know us. Any of us. Especially the Shaladorans.”

“I know Cassidy is a country girl from a trademan’s family who can’t talk about anything except livestock and crops and wouldn’t know how to sit at a table with a true aristo if all your lives depended on it.”

Theran’s heart jumped in his throat. Thank the Darkness these men didn’t know about Cassidy’s connection to Sadi and his wife. Those two were as aristo as you could get.

“Her manners are as rough as her face, and neither is fit for polite company,” Kermilla finished, her chest rising and falling impressively as she sucked in air.

Correne snickered. “Back in her old village, they called Freckledy the ‘spotted draft horse of Queens.’ ”

A tense silence shrouded the table for a long, long moment.

Then Ferall looked Theran in the eyes and pushed back his chair. “We’re done here. There’s nothing more to say.”

Ferall walked out of the room, followed by the other three Warlord Princes.

Stunned, Theran didn’t move for several heartbeats. Then he ran after them and caught them at the front door.

“Ferall, wait.” He grabbed the other man’s arm.

“There’s nothing more to say.” Ferall pulled out of Theran’s grasp.

“She’s young and high-spirited.”

“Too young,” Ferall said. “She should have slapped that little bitch down for insulting the Queen like that. And if people in her old villagedid say that about Cassidy, who told Correne about it so that it could be slung around here?”

“Probably one of Kermilla’s escorts,” Theran snapped. “They’re here too, and they come from Dharo.”

“A court takes its temper from its Queen,” Ferall said. “And what was at that table tonight is not something I want ruling my village. Good night, Theran.”

He let them walk away. There was nothing else he could do.

No, he thought as he closed the door, therewas something he could do. But he would wait until Kermilla retired for the evening. Maybe he’d even wait until tomorrow when things settled down a little more.

Hell’s fire, Ranon thought when he led the horse out of the Coaching station stables and ran into Ferall and the other three Warlord Princes. Could his timing be any worse today?

“Ferall,” he said, then nodded to the other men.

“More personal business?” Ferall asked.

Ranon shook his head. “Queen’s business in the town.” Meaning, it wasn’t the business of anyone who lived in the mansion.

Ferall hesitated. Actually looked uncomfortable. “Does the Queen have any objections to visitors in her home village?”

What an odd question. “No objections at all,” Ranon said.

“Would it be all right if the four of us came by a week from today to take a look around?”

Something was going on. Too bad he didn’t know what it was—and couldn’t afford to care. Not tonight. “I can’t promise Lady Cassidy will be available, but I’ll make sure I’m there. Why don’t you come by in the morning?”

“We’ll do that. Good evening to you, Ranon.”

The other Warlord Princes followed Ferall into the Coaching station. Wasn’t any reason for them to hire a Coach to ride the Winds back to their homes—unless they wanted that time to talk among themselves before going their separate ways.

“That’s a worry for another day,” Ranon muttered as he mounted the horse. Good thing they hadn’t seen him leaving the Coach he’d brought. There would have been questions about that—and about Burne and Haele being with him if they’d been spotted by the other men.

He kept the horse at a walk, waiting for his Brothers in the court to catch up. When they did, the first thing Haele said was, “What was Ferall doing in town?”

“Not our business,” Ranon replied.

“You know better,” Burne said. “Ferall is a savage fighter, even beyond what you’d expect from the Opal. And it’s said he’s the eyes and ears of a half dozen Queens in the Province where he lives.”

Like me,Ranon thought. The Shalador Queens hadn’t left the reserves for a few generations. That had kept at least some of them safe from the twisted Queens. But that didn’t mean they hadn’t been aware of what was happening in the rest of Dena Nehele, because there had always been men who reported back to them.

And some of those men had paid for being a Queen’s eyes and ears by losing their eyes and ears—and tongue.

Ranon said, “Maybe we’ll have a better idea of what Ferall was doing here today when he comes to visit us in a week.”

Haele swore softly. They respected Ferall as a man, but hewas a savage fighter. The thought of Ferall being in their village for any reason that wasn’t peaceful was a reason to sweat.

Don’t borrow trouble,Ranon thought.We’ve already got plenty.

They didn’t speak again until they reached the craftsmen’s courtyard and found it empty.

“Are we ahead of time?” Burne asked as he scanned the surrounding buildings and the street.

“No,” Ranon replied. “And if we were late, someone would have waited.”

“Unless they decided not to come,” Haele said.

Not likely.

Lord Rogir rode up a minute later.

“Those Warlord pricks found out where Weaver’s family lived. They tried to force their way in. My wife and daughter were there. I figured if we worked in teams and used some Craft we could get the households packed up faster.”

“Is everyone all right?” Ranon asked.

Rogir nodded. “My wife threw shields around the room where the females were and held on long enough for me and two other guards to arrive. We forced Garth and Brok to leave, but they’ll be back.”

“Won’t matter,” Ranon said. “Where is everyone?”

“Weaver’s wife and daughter are with mine at our house. Weaver and his son took off with their wagon, heading on the south road. They’ll reach his brother’s place by morning. I sent one of my men with them. Tanner almost has his family and tools packed up. His wife is also with mine. He and his sons are taking the wagon and heading out to his cousin’s place. Potter and two other families are still packing up. They’ve agreed to go to the Dairyman’s place.”

“That’s it?”

The guard nodded. “Don’t think the other landens around here believed any good would come of it, so they’re not leaving.”

Ranon called in the letters of passage. “You’ll need to get one of these to Weaver and make sure the other two parties have one, as well as a guard riding as escort.”

“Done,” Rogir said.

“I’ll need you to come with us to represent your men.”

Some nerves now, but Rogir nodded.

“We’ve got a Coach at the station. We’ll take the women and children and as much of the household goods as we can pack into the thing.”

“Appreciate it. We’ve all used Craft to vanish things and store them, but that takes power, and we’re all holding more than is comfortable.”

And compromising their ability to fight by draining the reserves in the Jewels that way.

“The men at the Coaching station said they have a Coach and driver we can use if we’re relocating folks,” Haele said. “I did tell them some of those people would be landens, and he said as a courtesy to the Queen, he’d charge the same price for each passenger.”

Another message, Ranon thought. Landens weren’t forbidden from buying passage on the Coaches that could ride the Winds, but they were usually charged double—sometimes triple—what any of the Blood would pay, so most couldn’t afford the luxury of speed.

A feeling crawled just under his skin, scratching at him. He used to feel like this when he was trying to finish an assignment and get out before a Queen’s guards arrived.

“Let’s do this and get out of here,” he growled.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one who had that feeling because they all settled into their tasks with grim efficiency, and by the quiet hours of deep night, they were all out of Grayhaven and traveling, by one means or another, to Eyota. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">