The Lady's Man (54 page)

“He does not lie you vile creature!” Genivere had had enough of the man. First he tried to murder Yorik in his sick bed. Then he doubted his acts. It was too much.

“The sylph created this monster. You brought him to your own lands. And Yorik saved you all. Now get out! Guards!”

Genivere yelled once more only to discover that she didn't have to. A pair of guards were already standing in the tent hidden behind the others.

“Take this man to the elders. Try him and have him begin his sentence immediately.” Whether it was her place or not to give them orders, she did it. And she knew they were the right orders to give.

Paladin or not she also knew that he wouldn't be able to fight his way free. This was Hammeral after all, and the elders would know how to deal with an unruly magical warrior. He would serve his sentence helping others; rebuilding homes and towns as he should. And as they grabbed him by the arms and dragged him away she thought it might be good for him to spend some time doing good work. Helping people instead of trying to kill them.

“Oh and by the way Sir Renwick.” Myral clearly wasn't finished with the man. “Three days ago Annalisse Brial Lon, the elders of Hammeral and I sent word to all the rulers of all the realms damaged by the thane, telling them what had happened and who was to blame.
Your chapter as the lackies of the sylph were mentioned, and they now know that every city the thane destroyed was one in which the Order of the Iron Hand had a chapter. If any of your chapters still remain, they will soon be empty as your brothers flee. Their property will be seized. And your order will soon be nothing but a painful memory.”

“No!” The man cried out his shocked denial. In fact for the first time he almost sounded as though he was hurting.

“Yes!”

Genivere had had no knowledge of what the wizard was talking about, but she instantly agreed with it. Yorik should be known far and wide for the hero he was, and these steel clad paladins needed to be stopped. They were nothing but killers. And she couldn't help but smile as he was dragged away. Maybe it was wrong and Yorik certainly would not want his name bandied about as the one who had ended the thane's rampage but she was still far too angry to care.

“Who was that?” Yorik surprised her by calling up to her from his sick bed and instantly her anger vanished to be replaced by concern. It was too soon for him to awaken. He should sleep for a few more days at least as he recovered.

“You're awake.” She sat down on the side of the bed beside him and put her hand to his forehead, worried. Fortunately there were no signs of fever despite the fact that he had almost run himself into the ground escaping Hammeral. Then she started running her fingers through his lustrous dark hair. It was nice hair, full and thick, and soft as it slipped through her fingers. And he had a nice smile too.

“Don't worry about him. He's going to be tried and sentenced. You don't ever have to worry about him again. You protected us and now we'll protect you. I'll protect you. That is a promise.”

“I'm not worried about him.” Yorik smiled up at her. A good smile, full of warmth and even humour. “Only you.”

“Me! Why me?”

“Because you might say no.”

He gathered up her free hand in his and kissed her fingers and she reddened like a school girl caught in a kiss as she understood what he meant. But it was all right to be a little embarrassed she thought. He was being bold and she liked that. Besides after so much pain she needed to feel good about something. And she felt really good just then.

“I might, but you'll have to ask me first. Soon. Perhaps after the rest of these people leave?”

Of course there was no way she was ever going to say no and he knew that. Everyone in the tent did. It was why they were all smiling and looking a little awkward. This wasn't the time or the place for such conversations.

“How do you feel?”

“Mayfall is truly gone?”

“Yes.”

“Then I feel wonderful. The more so for having you beside me.”

He smiled some more and Genivere's cheeks burned a little brighter. But she smiled too. In fact her cheeks ached from how hard she was smiling.

“But first – ” Yorik turned to look at Ascollia. “Brother, when is my trial?”

“Already over. There was no trial, only a hearing. The decision was that you were sorely tested and nearly failed but were redeemed by the Lady herself. You may still wear the gold. In fact the Lady would have it no other way.”

Yorik looked relieved and Genivere knew the same feeling of relief for him. She was beginning to understand just how important being a paladin was to him. How heavily the thought of losing his place had weighed on him.

“Which leaves you free to keep some other promises.” Myral spoke up abruptly and his voice was filled with impishness. “The most important of which is to this young lady. Something about hands and hearts as I recall.”

“Yes!” It was Annalisse's turn to surprise them as she spoke up suddenly. “What this town needs now is a wedding. In fact it's what the entire world needs. So get on with it boy!”

Genivere's mouth dropped open in shock as she realised what the foreteller was asking of Yorik. Actually she wasn't asking, she was demanding. And then Genivere's mouth dropped even further when he started getting up out of his sick bed and she realised he was actually going to do it. Suddenly she felt very hot and very nervous. He couldn't be about to do that could he? He wasn't well enough. It was too soon.

Before she could even think to protest he was up on his feet, holding out his hands for her. Automatically she accepted his hands and straightened up. Then he went down on one knee before her and her heart started beating like thunder as she knew he was going to do it. What was she going to say?

“Genivere Lin, you are the most beautiful woman my eyes have ever seen. You are wise and compassionate and loving beyond all others. And you have truly stolen my heart.”

“I am only a simple man and I can offer you little in the way of wealth. But if you would do me the very great honour of becoming my wife I would happily give everything I have to you and all my love with it.”

“Will you accept my troth?”

“Yes.”

Genivere didn't have to think about it, the word just came out of her mouth by itself. And then came the crying and the laughter and all the other emotions that she had been holding back for so long. She felt weak, and hot and silly and wonderful, all at the same time. And it didn't help that all around her the others were laughing and clapping and making strange and sometimes embarrassing comments. But it did help when he stood up, took her in his arms and kissed her as she had always dreamed of.

It helped a lot.

Epilogue

It was a beautiful day for a wedding. The sun was shining and the sky a perfect blue with only a few wisps of white cloud here and there. It was warm and the people were happy. And Renwick hated them. He hated them all.

But his true hatred was for the sylph. They needed to die, and when he got out of this underworld he would see to it that they did. All of them.

In the mean time he simply had to work. Presently he was carrying chairs out for the guests – and there were so many guests! He also had to help load the tables up with food. Before that he’d been required to help clear away the tents that were no longer needed. Little by little they were being emptied out as patients recovered and people slowly returned to their homes.

The thane was gone, vanished to become once more part of the Nameless. The people were recovering and the cities were slowly being rebuilt. Now that the plague had died away the fields were being replanted and though it might be a hard winter ahead in time there would be enough food for all. No one knew how many had died. No one ever would. But everyone knew that the golden paladin Yorik had defeated the thane. That was why there were so many guests. Dignitaries, emissaries and nobles from all the realms were there to witness him make his vows to that wretched elf. An elf who had actually defeated him in combat! By the gods how that hurt!

But while the rest might not know how much they had lost, he knew exactly how much he had lost. Eighteen chapters of the Order of the Iron Hand had been completely destroyed! Eighteen! The remaining four had been abandoned and the paladins had fled. The Order was destroyed. It would be centuries at least before it could once again show its strength. And with its loss so too had gone his name. He was no longer Sir Renwick. He would not be remembered for the great man he was. Instead he was just Renwick the criminal. Bound by spells that limited his power for a term of nine years. Likely in time to be forgotten like all the rest of this foul world. And all for trying to kill the golden paladin.

Why? It wasn't as if the man was worth anything. He was weak and soft. And according to all the stories, he had faced down the thane without even a sword in his hand and simply talked to him. What sort of a warrior was that? He should have fought.

Still, the man had saved some of his brothers – too late of course but it was something. And for that Renwick had decided that he would no longer seek his death. Nor would he kill any of these others. Many had had a hand in destroying his Order. Many had stolen their property and used it to help repair the cities. But while they were enemies, they weren't the ones who had to die first. The teachers were.

For they had come to the Order. They had offered to teach them more powerful magic. And all they had asked in return was for a few services here and there. Things they would normally do for coin anyway. It had seemed such a good deal. But in the end the service they had asked for had destroyed the entire Order. And they had to have known that that could happen. But they had said nothing. Lying, loathsome little winged wizards! They were as untrustworthy as the day was long. And they had even helped bring the thane into the world.

In the end it was all their fault and they had not apologised for it. The acornia they had provided to the various realms might be something of an expression of regret. But they weren't a true apology. And the acornia weren't being offer as an apology to their true victims; the Order of the Iron Hand. To the Order the sylph had given nothing at all. And worst of all they had not suffered a single loss. Not a town, not a city, not a single sylph. They had brought this doom upon the Order and escaped completely unscathed. That was not right.

The sylph needed to die horribly.

Suddenly there was thunderous applause and a lot of shouting from somewhere in the crowd and Renwick guessed that the marriage ceremony had been completed. The fat old father in his golden robes had finished the ceremony and the couple were wed.

“Drink up.”

Renwick turned to see his guard handing him a mug of some sort of wine, a stupid smile stretched over his silly elven face, and he immediately wanted to smash his nose in. But he couldn't. The spells on him bound his arms and legs, and prevented him from casting. Damned elves! So instead he took the mug and swigged down a little of the wine. After all, it wasn't as if he got to drink much these days!

“Now there is a man of courage!”

The guard apparently didn't notice the fury growing in Renwick's face. He didn't hear the way his teeth were grinding in his mouth or see the whitening of his clenched jaw.

“You know he faced down the thane without even a weapon in his hand!”

Renwick swigged the last of the wine down, wishing it would drive away his wits so that he didn't have to listen to the man's babbling. Elves! How pathetic were they! He would have screamed with rage but the magic bindings prevented even that.

“One day perhaps, when our children are old enough, they'll join the Order of the Lady.”

That was it, the final straw. It was just too much, and Renwick wanted to scream. To jump on the guard and pummel him to death with his fists. But he could do none of those things. The bindings wouldn't allow him. Instead he just stood there impotently, turning redder and redder with rage.

Nine years! Well, more like eight years and ten months before he was free. And then the sylph would die. The guard would die. Everyone would die. The Iron Hand would have its vengeance and the streets would run red with blood.

But for the moment he had to keep putting out more chairs for the guests.