Oath of Fealty (16 page)

“He wants the cohort back,” Kieri said. “He wrote me.”

Dorrin shook her head. “Not that—he wants me to take over Verrakai. As the only—as he puts it—honorable Verrakai of my generation.” She laid the scroll before him, and watched as he unrolled it.

“That’s … interesting,” he said as he read.

“No, Sir King, that’s terrifying. And worse, I feel a pull …”

“You’d be good, Dorrin,” he said, looking up. “You
are
the best Verrakai; you could change the family history.”

“But you know my story, my lord. The family hates me, and I left …” He gestured to a chair and she sat, too tense to relax into it.

“Dorrin. Captain. Change comes. I must give up my land and my Company, abandon the home and life I made for myself, the people I swore to protect and care for, to assume the responsibility for these people, this place … to assume the responsibility of a king. Even the Company will not be the same—”

“I know.” Tears stung her eyes. The Company without Kieri Phelan—she had already contemplated that, with misery. Jandelir Arcolin was a fine man, a good commander, but he was not Kieri Phelan.

“Then perhaps it is time for you, too, to take a bold leap.”

“I understand that things will never be as they were. But this—this is different.”

“And yet you feel a pull. At some level, Dorrin, you want it. You have always wanted to redeem your family.”

She sighed. “Yes. But I cannot imagine how it can be successful. How to go about it.”

He laughed, startling her. “Oh, Dorrin—do you not remember when we were building the stronghold in the north? No one thought that would be successful. An upstart no-name granted land and title? No family fortune? And yet you joined me, and now—barring the fact that I can no longer be there—it is a thriving land. You have more experience than I had then.”

“If I can gain the support of the people, who have known only bad Verrakai.” And if the magelords still there didn’t kill her outright.

He cocked his head. “What you really doubt is yourself, not your people.”

Your people. He said it as if he knew already that she would take it on.

“In a way, yes.” She spoke slowly. “Back there, in that setting, away from the Company—from you—what if it comes back?” The fear, the immobility, against their power.

“What is it you fear, Dorrin?”

“I never told you what the Knight-Commander told me—”

“You wear the ruby. You would not have been knighted if there’d been much wrong.”

“Yes, I wear the ruby. But I wanted more. Wanted to be what Paks is. He said I bore the same flaws, heart-deep, as those I fled. That no Verrakai could be free of them—”

“You wanted to be a paladin?” He sounded surprised, but less so than she’d feared.

“I wanted to go back and change them all. I thought that was the way. He said I was unfit for that.”

“You were
then
, yes. Like me, you were a youngster with little experience and few skills. And I would agree that you are not a paladin. Nor am I. We were born with other talents, Dorrin. We are meant to govern. You have been doing that, superbly, since you joined my Company.”

“Under your command. And not exactly governing.”

He gave her that challenging grin she had known so long. “You
know better. Each of you captains has had independent command, and you’ve all been involved in the dukedom. Come now, Captain: If I can go from running a mercenary company and a duchy to this—” He waved his arm at the room, encompassing the kingdom. “—and face my formidable elven relatives, then you can deal with mere humans and a duchy that desperately needs an honorable sane leader.” He paused; she said nothing. “And there’s this,” he said. “I expect trouble with Pargun, as well as some internal upheavals. Having you on my flank, someone I know and trust, would help me. I would not expect miracles, Dorrin—I know there have been cross-border raids and there will be more. But you will not be trying to undermine my kingdom.”

She nodded; it was both agreement and acceptance. “Not because
I
wish it though,” he said. “It must be
your
consent to
your
prince—to Mahieran, to Tsaia, not to me. I cannot be your commander any longer.” Regret softened his voice.

“I don’t know the prince,” Dorrin said. “I avoided court, as you know.”

“Yes. And now you’ll have to get to know Mikeli. He’s going to be good, I judge. His father was. You may have some problems with the Council, until they know you—”

“They certainly know the Verrakai name,” Dorrin said.

“We both face challenges. Do you think you’ll have problems with Verrakai troops?”

“Probably,” Dorrin said. “Even if they aren’t disloyal to Tsaia, they’ve been told that I’m a traitor.”

“Take your cohort,” Kieri said. “They’ll go with you willingly, and the prince has asked me to return them to Tsaia. Jandelir is headed south with a cohort—they are giving him the North Marches.” Dorrin noticed that Kieri did not say “my domain.”

“But they’re not mine—”

“Essentially they are,” he said. “Ask them, tell them I approved it. See what happens.”

“I—” For an instant her vision blurred. She blinked back tears. “You really think I can do it.”

“Don’t you?” Answer and challenge both.

She stared past him, out the narrow window; snow fell again, fat flakes in twisting curtains. “Yes,” she said. “I can. I will.”

“Then let me be the first to congratulate Dorrin, Duke Verrakai,” he said, holding out his hand. “And let us toast it.”

Dorrin clasped his hand, tears stinging her eyes. For so long he had been to her the elder brother she never knew, the father she never had—just, honorable, kind. And now she must take the lessons she had learned and apply them … without him.

T
saia’s messenger rode off the next morning before dawn; Dorrin marshaled her cohort in the inn’s common room and marched them to their usual drill field, thinly covered with snow. Weak sun bloomed the clouds to pale gold; the snow was soft, already melting.

Instead of drill, she called them into close formation. “A messenger arrived from Tsaia late yesterday. A message to me from the prince.”

They stared at her, some faces showing confusion and others calculation.

“Most of you know that I am a Verrakai. You all know we were attacked by Verrakai soldiers on the way here. That act of treason was compounded by an attack on the royal family in Vérella. The entire family is under an Order of Attainder—all except me, because I have been estranged from them for so long. The prince has asked me to take over as Verrakai. I have agreed to do so. Now I ask how many of you will come with me. King Kieri does not command, but says you may come if you like.”

“To serve under you, or someone else?” Selfer asked.

“My command,” Dorrin said. “And you would be going back to the Duke’s—to the North Marches—eventually. Arcolin’s been granted that domain; he’s on his way to Aarenis.”

They looked at each other, saying nothing. “I will walk,” Dorrin said. “You will think.”

“I don’t need to think,” Sergeant Bosk said. “Captain, I’ll follow you anywhere. To Verrakai, to clean up that mess—of course! What better could we do, with our Duke—the king—gone?” Others nodded.

Dorrin felt a surge of elation. “All of you?”

“Well, you aren’t like that other Verrakai. You’re loyal to the Duke—to our king, aren’t you?”

“I will be swearing allegiance to
Tsaia’s
king.”

“Of course, Captain, but he’s Phelan’s friend, right? And you’ll need some loyal soldiers to start with. Couldn’t trust those Verrakai soldiers.” He spat into the snow.

“They probably outnumber us,” Dorrin said.

“They outnumbered us on the way here,” Bosk said. “They’ve had one lesson; we can give them another. They’re not worth a worry, Captain.”

“Well, then.” The first lift of elation, of possibilities other than dire, filled her. “Let’s get to work. The prince has sent troops to Verrakai; he should get my message that I’m accepting his offer. We can’t wait for Kieri’s—the king’s—coronation; we should go on as soon as may be. Jens is still unable to travel, and we need to ensure that all our mounts are fit.”

“Farrier came by yesterday, Captain,” Selfer said. “All trimmed and all loose shoes reset. We’re down three mounts, though, and seven pack animals … all but two could travel in another hand of days maybe, but not sooner. I’m thinking you’ll want us to be fully supplied?”

“Yes.” Dorrin thought. “I’ll ask at the palace about buying spare animals. Make up a supply list—ten days on the road, if the weather worsens. I don’t know what the road conditions are, once we’re in Verrakai lands. I’ll try to find out. I’ll be back at the inn soon after midday, if not before. Do we need any additional weapons?”

“We can always use more,” Selfer said. “The smithies are backed up, so if we could get twelve swords, fifteen shields new—if there’s an armorer here—”

“If there is, I’m sure you can find him,” Dorrin said. “I’ll go check on mounts and pack animals, and the routes we might take.”

By early afternoon the sky cleared from the west to a hard blue. Dorrin had found, as she expected, few available mounts outside the royal stables, but pack animals and even wagons were available. She found maps in the palace library, but only one trader who admitted any knowledge of the roads into and through Verrakai lands.

“Charge a ruinous toll, they do,” he said. “Unless they order goods, they don’t want trade comin’ through ‘less they get a profit. I was hired to bring in southern wine and silk two years agone. Road’s a mess, once you get past Rockwater crossing; they leave it that way for protection, they say.”

“Better with pack animals, then,” Dorrin said.

“Better, yes. You’ll find some brigand bands, like enough. Damned Duke starves his peasants; it’s no wonder. But they’ll steal if they can. You’ll want to be careful.”

“We’re armed,” Dorrin said.

“I hear the Duke’s in trouble with the Council,” the man said.

“His men did attack the king on the way here,” Dorrin said. “What else did you hear?”

“You’re one of his captains, right? I heard he brought his own army with him, and everybody knows he was a mercenary. We worry about war here.”

“He doesn’t want a war,” Dorrin said.

“I suppose you would know,” he said. “But a man who’s lived by war all his life … what kind of king will he make, and what will that mean for us, the traders?”

“When you’re in Vérella next,” Dorrin said, “you should talk to the Merchants’ Guild about trade to his dukedom. It’s been profitable and he kept the roads in good repair. I expect he’ll do the same here.”

“I hope so. I’ve always traded on the east-west routes, not to the north, but if that’s true … then good.”

Should she mention that she knew Kieri wanted to include merchants in the Council here? No, that was for him to say.

By late afternoon, Dorrin had conferred again with the king and Selfer. On her way back to the palace, she stopped by the stables to check on her own mount, hoping to find Paksenarrion there. Paks, indeed, was in the stall with her paladin mount.

“Good evening, Captain,” Paks said. “Did you ride out today?”

“No … Paks, I wanted to talk to you, if you’ve time.”

“Certainly.” Paks stood up, giving the red horse a caress as she left the stall. “What is it?”

“The prince of Tsaia has asked me to take on the Verrakai matter,” Dorrin said. “I believe you know that I am Verrakai by birth … I left home and they erased my name, they said, but—”

“Why are you telling me?” Paks asked.

“It’s complicated.” Dorrin stopped in front of her own horse’s stall. The sturdy bay put out his head and she stroked it absently. “I hated what they did; I ran to Lyonya and entered the Company of
Falk. At one time, as a girl, I had dreamed of coming back to them as a … a paladin, like you. Breaking the bonds of Liart’s barbed chain, making them better … but I was not chosen for such training.”

“They don’t need a paladin,” Paks said. “They need a good ruler. Paladins don’t govern … I told the Council here that.”

“Why?” Dorrin asked. “I always wondered about that. Why wouldn’t paladins be good at it?”

“I’m not sure,” Paks said. “Perhaps because good governance requires different gifts. Rulers must stay with their land, wherever it is, while our calls to quest may take us anywhere. It would not be good for a land if its ruler left suddenly.”

“True. I had not thought of that.”

“And most rulers have heirs of the body,” Paks said. “Paladins are vulnerable in their loves … we are not encouraged to form families as rulers do.”

“So it is not simply that we lack abilities that you—that paladins have?”

“No … I think not. We are not perfect, Captain, just different. A sword and a plough are both useful, but for different things.”

“My family have done bad things, Paks. Very bad. I do not know how I will change their habits.”

“Do you know why they follow Liart?”

“They say it is the only way to preserve and strengthen the mageborn abilities,” Dorrin said. “They tried to initiate me, as a child. I was uncooperative. A spineless coward, as my father and uncle put it. But the others consented. I do not know how willingly.” She swallowed. “Because the Code of Gird forbids magery, some magelords fled into exile—”