Herald of the Storm (48 page)

‘Aye, and yours,’ Merrick replied with a nod.

As Massoum boarded the ship Merrick lifted the flask to his lips once more, only to find it was empty.

The mooring ropes were untied and the caravel’s sails unfurled. It began to move slowly until a sudden gust caught the bright yellow canvas and pushed it away from the bay.

Massoum gave a wave from the deck. ‘Remember, my friend, the shepherd or the wolf. It is a simple choice.’

Merrick could only nod as he watched the ship move off. Then he turned back to the city.

Shepherd or fucking wolf, indeed. What a load of shit. He had no say about what he was. Choose the wolf and have it on your conscience forever, or choose the shepherd and have your balls cut off.

Not really a choice at all.

But then he’d never been very good about making the right decision.

S
he had been looking at the body since the dawn light began to filter through the windows’ stained glass. Janessa had dismissed everyone else from the chapel and, thinking her grief stricken, the Sentinels had dutifully obeyed. It wasn’t grief though: Raelan had proved his professed love was false and she’d be a liar if she claimed to have felt anything for him. But there was still an empty feeling in her stomach, a dark pit of hurt.

Was it guilt she felt? Some responsibility for his death?

Raelan had tried to defend her, and paid for that bravery with his life, but had he and Graye not been rutting like a pair of stray dogs he would have been safely elsewhere.

Graye. The mere thought of her was enough to bring tears. Poor Graye. Though she and Raelan had betrayed her, they hadn’t deserved to die. Janessa herself had been about to turn her back on the crown, on her people, all for the love of one man.

Her friend’s body had been sent from the city, back north to Braega where she would be buried on her ancestral lands alongside her parents. Janessa would never see her again, and she was finding that hard.

Raelan’s body lay in the small chapel, wrapped in black velvet. He would be buried on Dancer’s Hill, which would be the wish of his father. In the north they still worshipped the Old Gods, with Arlor and Vorena shown only cursory respect. They would never get the body to Valdor before it started to decay, and Duke Bannon Logar was still fighting a rearguard action to the north. He could hardly leave the armies of the Free States, even to see his son buried. Word had been sent to him and Janessa could only imagine his woe after losing his dear friend the king and then his son in only a matter of days.

For now, Raelan would lie here alone in the dark, and until someone came for him Janessa was determined to stay by his side.

The door opened behind her, the light from outside lancing into the chapel and shedding harsh light on the shrouded corpse.

‘I gave instructions to be left alone,’ said Janessa.

‘I understand, majesty, but I must speak with you.’

Janessa turned to see Odaka closing the door to the chapel. He looked grave, his face drawn, eyes red as though he hadn’t slept for days.

She knew what Odaka had come to talk about. The question of marriage, a political arrangement, was still hanging over her, hanging over the Free States. She remembered the pact she had made with River and how close they had come to leaving this all behind. Could she still do that? Would he even come back for her?

‘This most recent attempt on your life only hastens the need for you to form an alliance. If anything happens to you before we can make such an accord the Free States will be thrown into chaos. We cannot allow that, especially not with invaders on our doorstep.’

‘I know what is at stake, Odaka.’

But did she? Did she really appreciate everything that might be lost? Janessa certainly hadn’t appreciated it when she’d been with River. When she had fallen into his arms and all she’d wanted was to run away and leave this place behind.

‘You need to make a choice, my lady. I know it is a difficult one, but …’

‘But it has to be made, I know.’ She turned to him, seeing his face, his serious manner, and knew the burden he was carrying. He held her kingdom on his shoulders while all she thought about was herself.

She looked down at his hand. In the dim half-light she couldn’t see the scar on his palm but she knew it was there. Her father had borne one just the same. In the old days, when she was just a child, the two men had sealed their bond in blood before they fought the Aeslanti. It was said Odaka Du’ur led a tribe fifty thousand strong, but had turned his back on all that power to serve King Cael. Janessa didn’t know if she believed all the tales, but she believed Odaka had been loyal to her father, as much as he was now loyal to her.

‘And what a choice I have,’ she said. ‘Do I choose Lord Leon, who is to all evidence slovenly and selfish? Or perhaps Lord Bartolomeo who, much like his father, is already rumoured to have fathered a score of bastards? There’s always Duke Vargus of Stelmorn, though he’s well into his eighties and has fathered no children despite the seven wives he’s outlived. Or perhaps Lord Cadran of Braega? I hear he’s almost seven now. I’m sure he’ll make a great statesman once he’s fully mastered his letters.’

‘I understand your reluctance, my lady. Nevertheless, we have to move quickly. I have already made arrangements for you to be escorted to a safe place outside the city. From there we can conduct a marriage and—’

‘No, I won’t leave.’ The thought of going anywhere without River filled her with dread. But River was gone to the gods knew where. The body of the giant assassin had been found at the Aldwark Bridge but of her lover there had been no sign. She was determined to stay in the city until she knew his fate.

‘Your noble gesture is admirable, but your safety is my first concern.’

Noble gesture? Did Odaka think she was staying out of some kind of loyalty to her city, to her people? His assumption only shamed her. She was staying out of love for a man who would have taken her away from her people. Taken her far from a city that could soon be razed to the ground.

‘Noble gesture or not, Odaka, I cannot leave. My place is here.’ As she said the words she began to believe them, began to convince herself she was acting out of duty, but it still couldn’t dispel the thought of River and what he meant to her.

‘But it is obvious we cannot protect you here. The palace is not safe.’

‘The city is not safe, Odaka. Everyone in it is at risk. Why not their queen also?’

Their queen? It was the first time she had said the word. The first time she had thought seriously about taking on that mantle. The mere thought of it weighed heavy on her shoulders.

Odaka was about to argue when the door to the chapel opened. Two grizzled warriors entered and Janessa recognised them as Lord Raelan’s bodyguard, the Border Wolves of Valdor. They each knelt before her and bowed their heads.

‘We have come for the prince,’ said one. It was curious they should call him that, but then it was the tradition in Valdor to call their young lordlings princes. It had, after all, once been a kingdom in its own right.

‘Of course. You are taking him to be buried now?’

‘Yes, your majesty. There’s no point in waiting on it.’

Janessa nodded. ‘Then I will accompany you.’

The men looked at one another, shifting uncomfortably.

‘It is too dangerous for you to leave the palace, my lady,’ said Odaka. ‘And besides, Lord Raelan is to have a pagan burial. It would not do for the future queen of Steelhaven to be seen attending a pagan ceremony. You will soon be defender of the city’s faith, Arlor’s earthly hand. It is against protocol.’

‘To the hells with protocol, Odaka!’ she snapped, looking at Raelan’s body. Despite his betrayal she still respected him.

The Border Wolves stood awaiting their instructions, and Janessa could only feel sympathy for them – they had let their ward be murdered. She could only imagine what punishment awaited them back in Valdor … what shame.

‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Take him.’

With another bow, the warriors lifted the pallet on which Raelan lay and carried it from the chamber.

When they had left, Odaka turned back to her. ‘My lady, I am sorry, but—’

‘I know what needs to be done,’ she snapped. ‘Now more than ever.’

She pushed past Odaka and walked from the chapel. Two Sentinels were immediately in step, clanking along beside her.

Janessa had no idea where she was going. Skyhelm was huge, with many rooms, but none of them held any allure for her. As she passed her father’s throne room, though, she stopped.

It was a massive chamber made of bare stone. Since the reign of King Godrik the Mourner the chamber had been stark and grey, displaying no flags or trophies. Where a king held his court there could be no distractions, no opulence.

Janessa paused on the threshold, looking across the vast hall to the throne. Like the rest of the room it was hewn from bare stone, cold and impartial, as should be a king’s judgements. Or a queen’s.

She walked into the hall, her Sentinels following her every step as she made her way towards the throne. Some day soon she would have to sit on that seat and rule a nation. Or she could marry and hand the responsibility over. Oh that the choice were that easy.

As a child she had played in this place, hiding behind the stone columns, climbing into the huge stone chair. Of course it had been forbidden, but the young Janessa, the flame-haired wolf, hadn’t cared.

Now that it might be her duty to sit on that throne, it scared her for the first time.

‘Magnificent, isn’t it?’

Janessa turned at the voice but not before the Sentinels, who spun round noisily, hands quick to grasp their swords.

Baroness Isabelle stood in the archway that led to the hall, a guileless smile on her face. She strolled across the threshold. ‘Please, don’t be alarmed: I am quite harmless.’

The Sentinels seemed to relax a touch, but Janessa wasn’t sure just how harmless this woman really was. Nevertheless, she gave them a nod and they moved their hands from their swords.

‘I have not yet had a chance to offer my condolences,’ said Isabelle. ‘Your father was a great king, and Lord Raelan would have made a worthy successor.’

‘I appreciate the sentiment,’ said Janessa.

‘You should know I share your sadness. My husband was so recently butchered by the very horde that threatens our lands. I know how hard it can be, especially when our duty weighs as heavy as our grief. But we must think to the future.’
Ah, here it comes
. ‘The people need something to rally to. They need someone to follow. A ruler who deserves their fealty. Who deserves to sit upon that seat.’ She gestured to the stone chair.

‘Of course,’ Janessa replied. ‘And I will give them that.’

‘
You
will? You think you can give the Free States, and all its people, stability? We face destruction. A merciless enemy. You think you can face it down all alone? You are but a girl, untried and untested.’

‘I am stronger than I look.’

Isabelle smiled. ‘You will need to be.’

This was starting to grate. Janessa had allowed this woman to speak her mind, but it was clear what she wanted. Leon was the only feasible candidate, and his mother could smell the power, could taste it – of that there was no doubt.

Isabelle moved in close. ‘I know you have men around you. Men you think you can trust. But whom can you really rely on? A queen needs a husband. Someone to keep her safe. Your life has already been threatened twice. If you married, the alliance would double the strength of this palace, this city. Eyes are already looking towards Steelhaven from the other provinces. A display of strength is needed. An alliance that will fortify the Free States—’

‘Yes, I have heard all this before,’ Janessa snapped. It stopped Isabelle in her tracks, but the woman’s expression did not falter. ‘And now one suitor is gone he must be replaced. You are here to tell me Leon is the best choice?’

‘He is the only choice,’ said Isabelle. ‘Not a perfect choice, I’ll admit. I am his mother, but even I know the boy has faults. He was indulged, spoiled, but you are a clever girl. You can bring him to heel.’

What was she? A trainer of hounds now? She did not want a man that needed training, she wanted …

… she wanted River.

‘And is Leon so easy to manipulate?’

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. ‘He requires some work, that is all. That is not to say he doesn’t have his virtues.’

‘I’m sure. I will think on it, my lady.’

‘Think fast. The Free States face destruction and you must marry. The choice is clear. Do not wait too long, or your wedding day might be amidst the rubble of this city.’

Without waiting for a reply, Isabelle turned and strode from the throne room. Janessa watched her go, thinking about her words and their implications.

To save her city, her country, she would have to wed to form a strong and lasting alliance. And there was only one suitable choice – Leon Magrida.

The thought repulsed her. She had so recently been in River’s arms. A man she loved and who loved her in return without question or demand. She would never have the same with Leon. She had considered marrying Raelan, but then the young lord of Valdor had been a strong and capable man.

Leon was as far from that as one could get.

The throne room and all it represented suddenly felt oppressive. Janessa had to get out. She walked from the chamber closely followed by her Sentinels. She would have preferred solitude, preferred to run far from here, but the days when that might be possible were gone.

As Janessa made her way through the palace she recognised there would be no such thing as solitude ever again. She worked her way up through the stairways, increasing her pace as she did so, feeling the walls moving in, feeling her breath coming in short gasps. Her Sentinels were diligent in their duty, following close, not letting her out of their sight.

When she finally reached the summit of the tower to look out over the city, they were not far behind.

Janessa placed a hand on the parapet, staring out to the north. She could not see Dancer’s Hill but knew that some time soon Raelan would be buried there.