Warcry (16 page)

His gaze fell on his wife, standing at the side table, slicing bread with a steady hand. She caught his eye, and they exchanged a long, steady look.

“Plenty of time.” Durst smiled.

CHAPTER 23

“COME FORTH! COME FORTH!” HEATH COULD HEAR the Herald’s voice even through the walls of the antechamber. “Come forth, all that would petition and submit to the Queen’s Justice!”

“They’re already in there,” Atira said, standing by the door. “Why does he bellow?”

“Tradition, more than anything else,” Lara said.

“And to remind the people of the Queen’s absolute authority,” Othur said firmly. He adjusted the sash of the Sword of Xy over his chest.

“Prest and Rafe are already beside the throne,” Heath said. “And I’ve put castle guards along the walls. Atira and I will stand with you, and there are guards outside the doors as well.”

“I will be the brooding presence beside the throne.” Keir offered his arm to Lara.

“You do that so well, beloved.” Lara took his arm. “Then let us be about this.”

Atira opened the door.

The Herald pounded his staff of office on the floor three times. “Lord and ladies, all hail Keir, Warlord of the Plains, Overlord of Xy, and Xylara, Queen of Xy, and Warprize.”

Heath’s gaze swept the room as everyone knelt at Lara’s and Keir’s approach. There was no sign of trouble, but the fact that many bore swords in the Queen’s presence was a concern.

The Herald had done his work well. The Xyian families had all been herded onto the left side of the throne room, and the right had been kept empty for the Plains warriors who would appear and answer to Korvis’s demands. Between the two areas were two groups of clerks and between them the aisle for the Queen.

Heath looked over at the old Herald and nodded his head in respect.

Kendrick’s face never changed, but there was a definite glint of acknowledgment in his eye.

Lara reached the throne and sat with Keir’s help. Anna had seen to it that there was a thick pad on the marble seat. The participants rose to their feet as she settled down.

“Good morning to all.” Lara sat straight, looking regal and calm. “We will limit the petitions heard within this Justice to the one that was interrupted by the illness of my warden. All others must wait upon a future date. But my warden has our authority to act during our absence, and we trust in his wisdom and impartiality. Apply to him if your claims cannot wait.”

Heath had to chuckle softly. Lara was doing it again; either using the royal
we
or referring to herself and Keir. Either way, it kept the nobles confused as to how to respond.

Keir stood next to Lara, feet apart, arms crossed, his expression just this side of grim.

There were murmurs among the observers. Heath was fairly certain that some had planned to press their claims this morning. He ran his eye over the crowd, and sure enough, Lord Durst was toward the back, Lanfer not far from his side. Like damn vultures hovering over a dying wolf.

Still, Heath hoped Lara knew what she was doing. It wouldn’t take much to get the nobles riled up enough to take their swords out, and the warriors of the Plains would not stand by without pulling their own blades.

“Herald, summon the first petitioner,” Lara commanded.

The Herald bowed and struck his staff three times. “Lord Korvis, approach and make thy petition.”

An older man, thin of body and face, stepped forward and bowed to the Queen. “Your Majesty, I petition for your justice. I turn to you to right a wrong done to me and mine by an individual under your protection. Nay, under the very roof of this castle.”

“Lord Korvis, I will hear your petition.” Lara gestured for him to rise. “It concerns the wedding of your son, Careth?”

“It does, Your Majesty.” Korvis’s voice was harsh, his anger clear to everyone. Heath frowned. His father had said that at the time, Korvis had been almost trembling with rage, so much so that he had trouble getting his words out.

Korvis continued. “My son and heir, Careth.”

A lad stepped forward to stand at his father’s side, a sullen look on his pimply face. He had his skinny arms crossed over his chest, his shoulders hunched. He was the very portrait of sullen childishness, and Heath suppressed a grin. He remembered that feeling all too well.

“Careth was to marry Aurora, the daughter of Craftmaster Bedell.” Korvis gestured, and another man stepped forward. A working man, that one—stout of limb, he wore the sash of a guild master and was looking about nervously. No warrior there.

“The wedding procession was nearing the church when a group of Firelander women waving swords and screaming war cries burst into the procession, seized Aurora, and made off with her. We pursued, but were unable to rescue Aurora before they took refuge within the castle.”

Oh, and clearly that grated. Heath could not resist looking over at Atira and raising an eyebrow.

The corner of her mouth twitched.

“We demand that she be returned to us,” Korvis continued, lifting his chin. “So that the ceremony can go forward.”

“Well and good, Lord Korvis,” Lara said firmly. “But it is not for the petitioner to dictate terms. What you receive at our hands will be justice, as we deem it so.”

Korvis flushed at her admonishment, but did not look away. “As you decree, Your Majesty.”

“Herald, summon the offenders to our presence,” Lara commanded.

The Herald strode to the door with his stately pace. As he approached, the guards within opened the double doors wide.

Again, the Herald’s staff rang against the floor three times. “Elois of the Horse,” the Herald announced. “You are summoned to the Queen’s Justice.”

Elois appeared with three other women of the Plains behind her. She strode forward, and at her side trotted Aurora. Heath hadn’t seen the girl before. She was a lanky thing, all legs and knees and elbows. Her lips were pressed tightly together, but Heath saw the fear in her wide, brown eyes. They walked right up to the throne.

“Elois of the Horse,” Lara said in greeting. “We have summoned you to answer the claims of Lord Korvis.”

“Warprize.” Elois went to one knee, as did the other warriors. “Warlord.” Aurora knelt with the group, following their example, and rose when they rose.

“Gladly will I answer,” Elois said, her head held high. “We chanced upon a procession, Warprize, as we were returning from checking the herds. They were walking to the church, except this little one, who was struggling with that one.” Elois pointed at Bedell. “Aurora was arguing with the man, saying that she did not wish to marry that stripling over there. But the man gripped her shoulder and demanded that she obey him.”

Bedell’s face grew red, and he opened his mouth as if to argue, then thought better of it.

Elois shrugged. “When Aurora saw us standing by, she broke away and wrapped her arms around my legs, crying, begging for help. When I understood that the Xyians were forcing a bond upon her, I hied her off in order to protect her.”

“Were swords drawn?” Keir rumbled in the language of the Plains.

“They were,” Elois acknowledged in the same language. “But not ours, Warlord.” She flicked her glance over to Korvis and his son, then gave Keir an apologetic look. “They are not very good with them, Warlord.”

A ripple of laughter, then, among the Plains warriors, but Lara held up a hand before any Xyian could protest. “The Overlord inquires as to the use of force. Lord Korvis, was blood spilled in this incident?”

“No, Your Majesty.” Lord Korvis clearly wished there had been by the look he gave Elois. “These warriors must be punished for—”

“No.” Lara cut him off. “No one in this kingdom need fear being punished for trying to aid a child.”

Lord Korvis pressed his lips tight.

“Aurora?” Lara turned to the group of Plains warriors.

The girl stepped out from between the women and stared at the Queen with wide eyes. She remembered her manners and dropped into a clumsy curtsey.

“Aurora, what say you?” Lara asked.

Aurora drew herself up. “I don’t want to marry him, Warprize. I want to ride and hunt and play with my dogs, but Mama says I can’t. I have to be a lady.” Aurora screwed her face up. “And Careth is mean, and I don’t like him.”

That stirred Careth, who glared at the little girl. “Brat,” he said.

“Pock-face.” She glared right back.

“Aurora,” her father stepped forward, his hand spread as if in apology. “It’s a good marriage, Aurora. With Lord Korvis’s aid, our trade will grow and prosper. And you will be a noble lady, with a fine house and servants to care for you.” He drew himself up. “It is an excellent marriage, Aurora.”

“But I’d have to live with him,” Aurora wailed. “I want to stay with you and Mama.” The tears were coming now, and Aurora sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve.

Elois reached down and put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “This one is not ready to leave the thea’s tent,” Elois said, giving Bedell a steady look.

Lord Korvis responded angrily. “We are not monsters, Firelander. The marriage would not have been consummated. Aurora would have come to live with us, that is our way. The business matters would have gone forward, but the other . . .” he hesitated. “The other matters would have been delayed until later.” Korvis glanced at his surly son, and Heath felt a twinge of sympathy for the man.

“It is not our way to sell our children into bondings,” Elois said firmly.

Both Korvis and Bedell went white with rage, and the entire audience stirred. Korvis sputtered, his hand going to his sword hilt. Heath tensed, ready for—

“Hold,” Lara’s voice rang through the throne room. She lifted her head, looking around the room, waiting for everyone to settle. It took a moment and ended in an uneasy quiet.

“Elois, it is not the Xyian way to sell children,” Lara corrected her. “But it is the tradition of Xy to arrange the marriages of our young people to benefit them and their families. It is a tradition that has served us well in the past and will continue to do so in the future.” Lara paused and gave Korvis and Bedell a considered look. “However, in the future, the consent of the young people will be required. If it has not been honored in the past, it will be so now. I decree that no marriage is to go forward without the consent of the couple, freely given before neutral witnesses.”

Lara shifted on the throne, placed a hand on her belly, and took a deep breath through her nose. Heath kept his smirk off his face.

She let the breath out slowly and then continued. “The two families are of Xy and follow the traditions of Xy. The arranged marriage has long been planned, with business agreements that will be strengthened by the blood ties. The Crown will not interfere in those matters. The betrothal stands.”

Smiles started to spread over the faces of Korvis and Bedell as the meaning of her words sank in, but Lara raised her hand. “But our justice also includes the wishes of Aurora and Careth in this matter, and it is clear that neither is ready to make the pledge of marriage to the other.

“But while the betrothal stands,” Lara continued, “the wedding will not go forward.”

CHAPTER 24

“YOUR MAJESTY?” KORVIS LOOKED AS CONFUSED as Heath felt.

Lara smiled. “Aurora shall enter the service of the Queen as handmaiden until such time as I see fit to release her from her duties. While she is in the Queen’s service, she will be educated and trained to such skills as she wishes, including the traditional domestic skills of Xy and such skills of the Plains as she expresses an interest to learn.”

The murmurs were growing now, but they were more confounded than angry.

“In the meantime, your families can act under your agreements to increase your trades. To that end, I have a charge for you, Lord Korvis, and for your son, one that will benefit your families and all of Xy.”

“Your Majesty?” Korvis was alert now, and interested.

“It is our intention to restore the trade routes to the kingdoms of Nyland and Cadthorn,” Lara announced. “We would send you and your son as our emissaries to Cadthorn. Another lord.” Lara paused just long enough to look pointedly around the room. “Another lord will be named to journey to Nyland.”

Heath looked for his father’s reaction; his father looked pleased. So he’d known that this was in the wind. Korvis’s and Bedell’s expressions said it all. They weren’t happy, but they were interested.

“You’d clear the mountain passes of obstacles?” Korvis asked. “There’s been no one through there but the odd, wandering tinker in decades.”

“Yes,” Lara said. “With the aid of the warriors of the Plains, we can clear the passes of all their dangers. Wild animals, bandits, and the like.”

“Cadthorn has a seaport,” Bedell said excitedly. “That would open trade to . . . to . . .”

He fell speechless, as if looking off into a future of prosperity.

“We’ve old maps of the routes and what trade goods were desired,” Keir said, his voice a smug rumble. “We have a need to open ourselves back up to the world around us.”

The throne room buzzed now, everyone talking excitedly, lords and craftmasters alike. Heath knew word of this would explode from the room like sparrows from a bush once the doors were opened.

Lara shifted again on the cushion and grimaced. “My lords, I fear I must close this Justice. Aurora, stand with me.”

Aurora looked up at Elois, who smiled down, then whispered in her ear. The girl walked over to stand at Lara’s side.

“Craftmaster Bedell, Aurora can visit with you as often as she wishes, but this day, I have a need of her. There is much to be done to prepare for tonight’s ceremony.” Lara braced her hands on the armrests. “As we have spoken, let it be done, for our decree is absolute and the law of this, our kingdom. Our decision given, this Justice is at an end.”

The Herald thumped his staff down three times, and everyone knelt as Keir escorted Lara to the antechamber with Othur, Aurora, and their bodyguards.

Heath gave Atira a nod as the crowd rose and started to mill about, voices getting louder and louder as they filed from the throne room. Heath met Atira at the antechamber door.

ATIRA MADE HER WAY ALONG THE WALL TO THE door to meet Heath. It was easier to deal with all these people in a crowded place if you had the wall to one side.

She arrived just as Heath did and stood beside him as they both scanned the departing crowd. “Lara will wait within, until the halls have been cleared,” Heath said softly.

“Wise, given all that has happened,” Atira replied. “She did well, did she not?”

“Oh yes,” Heath said with a smile. “She said no to their plans and then dropped a nice, juicy plum right in their laps.”

“Plum?” Atira asked.

Heath chuckled. “You know what I mean.”

Atira gave him a smile as the last of the people filed through the doors. Heath finally opened the door behind them, and they slipped inside.

“. . . three dogs,” Aurora was saying, standing by the fireplace as Lara walked up and down, leaning on Keir’s arm. “They run and play with me everywhere I go.”

“Well, we’ll see to it that you get to visit them.” Lara was breathing hard, clearly uncomfortable. She glanced at Heath. “Are the halls cleared? I’d really like to return to my chamber.”

“We’ll manage it,” Heath assured her. “We’ll put Keir in the lead, and he can stalk in front and clear the way with his glare.”

“I live to serve,” Keir said. He put Lara’s hand on Heath’s arm. “Prest, Rafe, take point with me. Ander, Yveni, and Atira, take the rear.”

Othur smiled at Lara, and placed a kiss on her cheek. “You did very well, Daughter of Xy. But I must go and check on preparations. I will see you before the ceremony.” Othur looked down at Aurora. “Handmaiden Aurora, would you like to meet my ladywife, Anna the Cook? I bet she’d give us biscuits and tea, if we ask nicely.”

Aurora broke into a grin and slipped her hand in Othur’s. “Yes, please.”

As they left, Lara leaned heavily on Heath’s arm and put her hand to the small of her back. “I will be just as glad when this is done,” she said with a sigh.

Heath had one eye on the door as Keir slid through after Othur. Rafe and Prest followed close behind. “We’ll all feel better about this once the babe is born.”

“But one can never drop one’s guard, Warprize,” Atira said.

Lara grimaced, then looked around the room. “Would you do me a favor, Heath?” she asked quickly.

“Of course, little bird.” She had his full attention now. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing really. I—” Lara bit her lip. “In one of the packets we sent to Othur from the Plains, I sent a separate note to Ismari, the goldsmith. I asked her to craft . . .” she flushed up, and looked away. “I’d hoped . . . I wasn’t sure . . .”

“Rings?” Heath whispered softly, bringing his head close to hers.

Lara drew his head down and pressed her forehead to his. “Rings. Would you go and—”

The door opened and Prest appeared. “It’s clear.”

Heath smiled into Lara’s blue eyes. “We’ll take you to your chambers so that you can rest. Then I will take Atira, and we will retrieve your tokens. What is a wedding without rings?”

Lara’s smile was radiant.

DURST STOOD IN THE COURTYARD OF THE CASTLE and watched as Korvis prepared to mount.

“Sorry, Durst.” Korvis pulled on his glove and yanked it tight. “I cannot support your cause.” The man paused and looked up at the castle. “You have a legitimate grievance, I admit that. But the Queen’s justice is fair.” His gaze settled on Careth, mounted and waiting sullenly with Korvis’s escort, and he heaved a sigh. “The Queen’s embassy through the mountains may be just what Careth needs.”

“You are blinded by greed,” Durst snapped.

Korvis gave him a level look. “Tell me you would have turned such an opportunity away for your sons, had they lived?”

Durst snarled. “But they didn’t, did they? And that Firelander lords over us all, and—”

“Your hate blinds you,” Korvis said bluntly. “Bedell is well satisfied, given his daughter’s resistance to the marriage. He is honored that she will be the Queen’s handmaiden and more than satisfied that the betrothal stands. As am I.”

“Traitor,” Durst spat. “Xylara is a whore, as was her mother.”

Korvis stared at him. “So old hatreds rear up and cry for blood? No. I will not be a part of this. As a lord of Xy, I have always considered the needs of my people before my own. Return to your lands, Durst. Live out your life in peace. Your wife is still of an age to give you children. Don’t you see—?”

Durst turned on his heel and limped off, seething in rage. He heard Korvis mount up, and the pounding of the horses’ hooves as Korvis and the others rode through the gates.

Lanfer was waiting by the doors to the castle, leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest. He stood in silence as Durst limped past and fell in behind. They walked the halls and the stairs to Durst’s chambers. In silence, Durst opened the door. Browdus rose as they entered the room.

“I heard,” Browdus said.

Durst walked over to the hearth where a small fire burned. “New trade routes. Who’d have known that a Firelander would be so wily?” He stared into the flames. “Will the Archbishop perform the marriage ceremony?”

“If you think he is capable of defying the bitch and her Firelander, you are mistaken.” Browdus folded his hands into his sleeves. “He will never have the courage to stand before them and deny them the rite.”

Lanfer stood silent, his hand on the hilt of his sword, waiting.

“Korvis will not support us,” Durst said. “Only two other lords and their men will fight on our behalf.”

“That will suffice,” Lanfer said. “I’ve recruited enough of the Guard with coin and promises. Given the advantage of surprise and betrayal, we can win through.”

“Very well.” Durst straightened. “It appears that drawn blades are the only recourse. Spread the word.”

“It would suit me if the Archbishop were to perish as well,” Browdus said.

“I’m sure it would,” Durst growled. “But our purpose is not to advance you within the church. Our purpose is to clear this taint from the Xyian throne.”

“As you say.” Browdus nodded. “I will see to it that the Archbishop appears on time.” With that, he departed, slipping through the door.

Durst waited until it was well closed before facing Lanfer. “It would not bother me if that bastard fell as well.”

“In the confusion of the moment, who can say who will live or die?” Lanfer shrugged.

“Just swear to me.” Durst locked his gaze with Lanfer’s. “Swear that Heath dies before his father’s eyes.”

Lanfer smiled broadly. “Have no fear of that, my lord.”

“SHOULD WE BE LEAVING?” ATIRA ASKED AS SHE swung up onto her horse.

Heath was already in his saddle, signaling the guards to open the front gates. “It’s not far,” he said, urging his horse forward. “And it means a lot to Lara.”

Atira urged her horse into a walk—

—and nothing happened.

“Eh?” She looked down at the horse’s head.

The horse stood there, waiting.

She urged him on again. This time, the horse turned to look at her, almost puzzled. Heath circled back, grinning at her. “What? A Firelander who cannot ride?”

Atira growled.

“Perhaps you should ride pillion behind me?” Heath offered. “Or we could walk, perhaps?”

Before she drew her sword on the idiot, she remembered that this was a Xyian horse. She shifted in her seat, using her heels instead of her toes. The horse grunted in satisfaction and started off.

Heath laughed, a strong ringing sound—the first real laugh she’d heard from him in some time. Atira threw him a scowl, but her heart wasn’t really in it. The tension was gone from his face, and his eyes danced.

They passed through the doors at a trot and onto the cobbled street. Heath took the lead, and they passed swiftly down into the city proper.

Here the streets were so crowded that they slowed their horses to a walk. Atira couldn’t help but gape at all the people, short and fat, tall and thin, carrying bundles and parcels, talking to merchants and to one another, walking and talking.

The sounds bounced against the walls, confusing her with the echoes. Skies, it was loud. And the endless rows of buildings that lined the street cut off her sight, forcing her to lift her eyes to potential threats; there was always an
up
in this place.

And the smells . . . skies above, it was enough to wish the winds would sweep through. One breath was the smell of baking, the next rotting meat.

It seemed so strange, and yet in some ways it reminded her of the Heart in summer, when the tribes gathered. Crowded, noisy . . . For a moment she ached for the Plains.

But then a man walked past, herding a gaggle of geese before him. Her horse shied, and Atira tightened up on the reins to let the creatures past.

“Sorry, milady,” the lad cried as he shooed the geese along.

“Is it always so?” Atira asked as Heath drew up beside her.

“For the most part.” Heath nodded. “But this is a bit more frantic than usual. Word has spread of the wedding, and everyone who can will celebrate this night. So they gather food and drink, and try to get their work done before sunset.” Heath nodded down the street. “This way.”

Atira followed, keeping a better eye on the path before her. The shops were all full of foodstuffs here, but the contents changed as they rode along, from livestock to herbs and then to cloth.

Heath urged his horse over next to a strange contraption. An old lady was seated on a stool nearby. Atira pulled up next to him just as the woman cackled and pointed off one of the side streets with an old and crippled hand.

“Down there, milord Heath. Just past the leather workers.”

“My thanks, Kalisa,” Heath said. “How does your business?”

“Fine, Lord, fine.” Kalisa looked up at him from an angle, her back hunched over. “Plenty of customers wanting my cheese. A slice for yourself, perhaps?” Kalisa looked at Atira. “Perhaps for your lady?”

“It’s been a while since we broke our fast.” Heath nodded, reaching into his pouch. “But I fear my lady knows only of gurt.”

Kalisa frowned as she moved to cut two slices of yellow cheese, placing them between thin wafers. “Odd stuff, that Firelander cheese.”

Heath leaned down and traded the coins for the food. “My thanks, Kalisa.”

“The Sun God bless you, milord,” Kalisa called. “And the Queen as well!”

Heath passed Atira her portion, and they headed off at a fast walk. Atira eyed the yellow substance carefully, then bit into it. The taste was strange on her tongue, but good. She ate as they moved down the street in the direction Kalisa had pointed out.

Heath had almost finished his, cramming it into his mouth and wiping the crumbs off on his trous. He pointed down the street. “There, that’s Ismari and Dunstan’s shop.”

Atira finished her cheese as they dismounted. Heath called out, and a young lad came running out, taking up the reins and tugging the horses around a corner. The door stayed open and Heath stepped in, holding it for Atira to enter.

The inside was rather plain, with a wooden counter that ran the length of the opposite wall. The door behind it opened, and a girl with her black hair piled on top of her head popped through, her leather apron stained and burned.