by Kirby Crow
“Ah. Now we have another conundrum. Who gets to decide what noble behavior is?”
Scarlet grinned. “Me, of course.”
“Of course.” Liall straightened Scarlet’s lapel and fastened a loose button. “And what if I were to declare you a baron of Rshan?”
That merry grin faded swiftly. “Don’t joke about such things.”
“I’m deadly serious.”
Scarlet pushed his hand away and rose. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” He was cross now. “Deva’s sake, Liall! Your folk would never stand for it. More than that, I don’t want it.”
“It’s not about wanting. If you were a baron of Rshan, made so by royal writ and blessed by my sword in my own hall, then no man would dare to harm you. They wouldn’t even think it. The monarchy could not stand without the support of the barons, and all baronies are a part of the crown. Technically, the crown owns all the land of Rshan, but the barons rule them as hereditary fiefdoms.”
“And just what baron are you going to make an enemy of by giving me his lands?”
“I will create a new barony and a new title.”
Scarlet made a helpless gesture. “From where?”
“The Kalaxes Islands.” Liall smirked at Scarlet’s reaction. “I see you’ve heard of them.”
“You made Qixa a lord of the Isles.”
“And you will be his liege lord; Baron Wild of the Northern Isles.”
“It’s a terrible idea,” Scarlet said flatly.
“IT’S PERFECT,” TESK enthused.
Liall raised his wine glass in salute. There were just the five of them for dinner; himself, Scarlet, Tesk, and Alexyin. Tesk had ostensibly been summoned to give Liall his “full tale” of the drastic events in Sul before he was publicly forgiven for the benefit of the court whisperers, but there was little that Liall had not already been told, including Shikhoza’s part in uncovering the plot. Only Alexyin had been shocked by that news.
It’s as if he trusted in her enmity, Liall thought. Foolish man. Shikhoza’s enemies were not flesh and blood. Ignominy and mediocrity were her foes; the loss of her power at court, the loss of her place in history as queen. Not for any reward would she have risked her rank as Lady of Jadizek and Baroness of Uzna Minor. Her agreement to marry that sly weakling, Eleferi, had proved that beyond doubt. Even in their youth, she had spurned Eleferi’s oily advances, but then the weasel had inherited Vladei’s lands and wealth, and when Liall had given her a choice between banishment from court or wedding a man she despised, she chose the marriage bed.
Margun would not sit, insisting on standing guard at the door. Once, his vigilance would have been excessive inside a freerider keep, but after the Bleakwatch, Liall mistrusted even this sanctuary.
The freeriders had no formal dining hall, but they had kindly carried in several sturdy benches and a trestle table into a hastily-appointed “king’s chamber” on the highest floor of the keep. Liall had expected rough fare, not the traditional traveling rations of smoked fish and dried fruit, but perhaps elk meat and winter potatoes from the cellars. He had been pleasantly surprised when delicately-roasted young hens and new bread appeared.
“Terrible,” Scarlet said to Tesk. Or tried to, around a mouthful of bread. He seemed determined to eat the entire table by himself.
“Have some more butter,” Tesk said. He slid a sweating crock of it closer to Scarlet’s elbow.
Liall tried not to grin when Scarlet grabbed a spoon and spread a double-helping on his bread.
“I agree with ser Keriss,” Alexyin said grimly.
Liall took a sip of wine to hide his surprise, a bit sleepy with food and spirits. He had eaten enough for three men, and in his pleasant, sated mood, the hearth fire seemed to fill the room with a cheery glow, the corners illuminated by blue Rshani oil lamps of the kind used in the Nauhinir.
“We could almost be at home,” Liall remarked as he gestured to a lamp, ignoring Alexyin’s comment.
“Sire,” Alexyin pressed. “The barons will never stand for it.”
“Will they not?” Liall murmured, his gaze shifting to Tesk, who seemed to be wholly engrossed in stealing small tidbits from Scarlet’s plate and smirking when Scarlet prevented him. He treats him like a pet, Liall thought. Or perhaps something more, bordering on a fascination. That Tesk held affection for Scarlet had always been plain. More than once, Liall had forced himself to be silent and let those moments between them pass, knowing that—however Tesk felt—no intimacy would ever occur.
The gods know I tried hard enough when we were young. But Tesk had always politely refused. Tesk had refused everyone, even Shikhoza. At first, Liall had thought it was respect for the royal rank, then as time went on less savory thoughts crept in, but as years passed and Tesk grew into a dignified and utterly dangerous Setna, Liall recalled reading of individuals who did not experience desire.
“Sire, I beg you,” Alexyin said. “Consider what this notion of yours will do to the realm.” He glanced at Scarlet. “If it was, indeed, your idea.”
Liall fought to keep his irritation down. He was in too good a humor to start wrestling with Alexyin’s myriad suspicions. He had Scarlet back, they were safe for this night at least, and he had reason to hope for the future. The last thing he wanted was to listen to Alexyin’s ten thousand complaints.
“Oh yes,” Scarlet said impudently. “I want all your barren islands where it’s so cold that birdsong freezes in the air and not even moss will grow.” He popped the last of his bread in his mouth. “I want them all.”
Tesk laughed, clearly enjoying himself. “You’ve already got the Wild and our king’s heart, leave something for the rest of us.”
He has perhaps had too much wine, Liall thought, and then wondered if the appearance of being in his cups was just another mask Tesk chose to wear.
Scarlet, however, was very close to being drunk. He had downed four cups of wine that Liall had counted, and now a rosy flush was stamped on his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. Quite appealing, actually.
“The islands are unimportant,” Alexyin persisted. “It is the rank of which I speak, and the privileges of nobility.”
Scarlet pointed his thumb at Tesk. “I’m already noble, or so this one keeps telling me.” He nodded at Margun. “And that one.” He indicated Liall next. “And that one.”
“Nobility is a thing of blood in Rshan, ser Keriss,” Alexyin said, bristling at his king being referred to as that one. He did not have to say what he thought of Scarlet’s bloodline or lack of noble pedigree. His look said all that was needed.
“You must be tired, old friend,” Liall said, failing to keep the snap out of his tone. “Perhaps you should seek your bed. After all, you’ve been riding at my side for days, whispering in my ear of how terribly I’ve performed as ruler of this land.”
Alexyin colored. “My lord, I did no such thing. I only offered my advice—”
“When it was not asked for. I respect that you counseled my mother well for many years and that your service to the crown has been long and loyal, but that does not make you a king. You will kindly hold your tongue regarding my royal decisions.”
Alexyin’s shock was evident. “Sire...”
Even Scarlet stared. Tesk went carefully blank.
To chide a man such as Alexyin in public was no small thing, but Liall was weary of the constant, grinding awareness of Alexyin’s dislike of Scarlet and his disapproval of Liall’s choices, and the petty methods with which the man made his opinions known.
Liall waved his hand. “You may retire to your bed, Alexyin.” And sleep off that bad mood you’ve been in for months.
With grave dignity, Alexyin stood and bowed to Liall, his expression closed and affronted. Margun opened the door for him.
In the new quiet, Scarlet sighed and reached far across the table for the wine bottle that had been nearest Alexyin’s plate. “Now look what you’ve done. He was closer to the salt, too.”
Liall chuckled tiredly and rake
d his hair back from his temples. It would need cutting soon.
“Alexyin’s pride will be bruised for some time,” Tesk said. He didn’t seem at all drunk now. “Was that wise, my lord?”
“Don’t you start.” Liall raised his cup. “Bring me some of that wine, you.”
Scarlet snorted. “That sounds like an order, your majesty.”
Majesty. Hilurin had such odd words for kings. “It was not.”
“Well, I didn’t hear please.” Scarlet pulled the cork out with his teeth and spat it into the fire.
Liall raised his cup higher. “Please, my lord baron.”
“Deva save us.” Scarlet took a long pull directly from the bottle and wiped his lower lip with his thumb. “You don’t get any. And I don’t want to be a baron.”
Liall frowned. “Whyever not?”
“No wine or no baron?”
“Either. Both.”
Scarlet sauntered around the table. “Well, for one, if I was to be your baron, then you’d be my king, and I’d have to take orders from you.”
“Instead of telling me to shove my orders up my arse.”
“Exactly.” Scarlet leaned his hip against the table, cradling the bottle with one hand, close to his chest. “Two, I don’t much like the barons I’ve met so far. Strutting, puffed-up cock-a-whoops, most of them.”
Tesk snorted at the description.
Liall smiled. “Thank you for that colorful image. You’ll get no argument from me. And the third? I presume there is a third objection?”
“And a fourth and a fifth, but I’ll cut it short.”
Tesk made a woeful sound. “And I was so looking forward to that.”
“Shut up, or I’ll make you a baron, too.” Liall smiled up at his endearing pedlar. “You were saying, lovely?”
Scarlet rolled his eyes. “You’ve had too much to drink. I can always tell. Anyroad, third objecti-thing...” He wagged his finger warningly in Liall’s face. “Barons need heirs.”
“Like kings,” Tesk quipped.
For two coins, Liall would have gladly kicked Tesk’s chair out from under him. “We will make an exception for you.”
“Will you, now?” Scarlet poured the last of the bottle into Liall’s wine cup and smiled sweetly. “Then, as your loyal Baron Mucketymuck, I’ll do the same for you, your majesty.”
Tesk laughed delightedly and began to clap. “He has you there, sire. You’re wrapped up proper and dished, as our young ser would say.”
Scarlet grinned and looked pleased with himself. “I would.”
Liall gave them both a sour glance. The topic was treading precariously into territory that would spoil the night. “I believe dinner is over.”
Tesk rose at once and drew on his velvet cloak. “If my lord will forgive me, there is one more thing.”
Liall made a growling noise.
Tesk held up his hand. “Good news, this time; Kingstone will join us on the march, as well as the rangers from the holdfasts of Graymark, Frostfort, and the Krags.”
Liall blinked. “Well. You have been a busy bee. We haven’t been here a day and already you’ve managed something that no other Rshani king has in a century.”
Tesk grinned. “Kingstone lost four of their brothers in the woods today. The freeriders do not care for sneak attacks, it seems. They care even less for assassins, and they have decided that their king is in need of protection.”
“He is,” Liall stated. “No use pretending otherwise.” He stared at Tesk. “Freeriders rarely march to war. They did not answer my lady mother’s call for the Tribeland wars, nor her father’s for the Sadyn border. Now I have you to thank for this legendary turnabout.”
Tesk bowed with grace. “I merely reminded the captains of Kingstone that the men who killed their brothers would rejoice if their king died in battle or fell to an assassin’s arrow. You know how much rangers hate to lose.”
Liall clucked his tongue and drank his wine. “So do I.”
AFTER TESK TOOK HIS leave, Liall dismissed Margun for the night and closed the door firmly after him.
“Now,” Liall turned to Scarlet, rubbing his hands. “Show me this letter that Captain Qixa gave to you.”
Scarlet blinked, then he poked Liall in the chest with a stiff finger. He was quite tipsy. “Rotten bastard. If you already knew, why didn’t you ask sooner?”
Liall chuckled. “Mind my skin, brat. It’s already sore from paying bribes to my spies.”
“Meaning Tesk, and if he’s spying on me, I’ll have words with him.”
“He’s not, but Qixa would have sent a message, and if Margun or Tesk does not have it, then you do.”
“A king who thinks like a spy.” Scarlet shook his head. “I pity your enemies.” He reached into his virca and withdrew the flattened note, but quickly tucked it away again when a polite knock sounded at the door.
“Enter.” Liall called. He winked at Scarlet. “You see, I do listen to you. No more surprise entrances.”
Scarlet smirked.
The door opened. Margun stood there, Chos beside him, his cheeks darkened with bruises. “Sire?” Chos said tentatively. “You requested a bath?”
Liall waved him away. “Yes, soon. I'll let you know. Keep it hot, though.”
“A bath for one, sire?”
“Have bathtubs suddenly grown smaller? One, two, or ten, just have the damn thing ready.”
“Yes, sire.” Chos bowed hastily as Margun closed the door again.
“You've vexed him,” Scarlet said, his tone cold. “Looks like he vexed someone else, too.” He gestured to his face. “Did you give him those?”
“I did.”
He sighed. “That was ill-done, Liall. I’m not fond of Chos, but Margun is even more suspicious than Tesk. He told Chos nothing.”
“I know that now, but I was scared for your life and I was furious.” Liall shrugged. “I will find some occupation for him after we return to the Nauhinir. One not in my household.”
“Good.”
Liall stared. “That look on your face. I haven't seen it since I asked you for a kiss on the Nerit.”
“Maybe because Chos sees you naked more than I do.”
So that’s it. My beautiful, foolish boy. As if Chos could entice me to stray from your bed. Liall took Scarlet in his arms. “Let's have none of that, eh?” he said very gently. “Chos is nothing to me. If it bothers you to have him near, I'll send him packing in the morning. But please, love, don't let a serving boy's fancies turn the night sour between us. I've missed your company.”
Scarlet relaxed. A sweet smile touched his mouth. “I've missed you ever so much, too. I don't mean to be difficult.”
“You're not, but perhaps you have reason to be prickly about Chos. I've noticed there's something amiss with him. I haven't thought how he might feel, being so much in my company. That's because there's only one man's heart I care for. Chos will have to look out for himself.”
Scarlet went up on his toes to brush a kiss across Liall's mouth. “That's unkinder than I would have put it, but I feel better.”
“Yes? Then let's see that letter before my admirer comes sneaking back.”
Scarlet handed it over. “You always have a way of soothing my ruffled feathers. Is that a king’s talent, or just you?”
“It’s you,” Liall murmured, examining the wax on the letter before he broke it. “What you feel, I feel. I would not have you upset over such trifling matters. We have larger concerns to tackle.”
Scarlet peeked at the note as Liall read silently. “I’ve seen this writing before,” he said.
Liall glanced at him quickly. “Where?”
Scarlet frowned. “In a dream, I think. It’s not Sinha writing, is it? I can tell by the script. Sinha is all curves and circles. That,” he pointed at the letter, “is more like dagger strokes. Looks like someone took a bloody knife to the page. Why’s it in red ink?”
“It’s tradition,” Liall said shortly, his heart beating faster. A dream. Deva s
ave us. He strode to the fireplace and gave the letter to the flames. The paper flared and burned instantly.
“Why did you do that?”
“To keep the good captain's head resting on his shoulders a while longer.”
“He’s still loyal to you, isn’t he?”
“Oh yes. Qixa is an opportunist, as all good mariners should be, and he knows whose hand holds the purse strings, but if he’d wished me ill, he could have had my life a dozen times over by now. I’ll owe him a barony before this is over.”
“What, another? We’ll be swimming in barons before you’re done. What did he say?” Scarlet looked into the flames as if they contained the answer. “Will you tell me?”
“This is something you should not know,” Liall said reluctantly, He held up his hand. “Not because I think you weak, or that I fear you couldn't keep it to yourself, but because it’s difficult to impress upon you what this secret means, or what it would mean for all of us if it were known.” He sighed. “It is common knowledge that Captain Qixa was born in the far north, yes?”
Scarlet nodded. “He seemed to feel the Kalaxes was home. That’s as far north as I know of.”
“There are lands even further,” Liall said darkly. “Qixa is not what any Rshani would consider a countryman.” He watched as Scarlet’s eyes widened with sudden comprehension.
“He’s one of—”
“Of them, yes. You heard me mention the Sadyn border earlier? The Sadyn is a glacier in the deep interior of my land, a moving mountain of ice that never thaws. There used to be a Tribeland settlement near there before the army marched on it. The fires raged for days. A great victory for Rshan. The tales say the stack of blackened Ava Thule bones were as tall as three men, and that none were left alive, not even the babes.”
“Deva save us,” Scarlet murmured, shocked.
“The tale is not entirely true.”
It was a long moment before Scarlet spoke again. “He survived that, and still he’s your man? I wouldn’t be.”
“He remembers little of it. He was only a boy when he was smuggled out of the massacre. Qixa has lived his life among Rshani. His ways are our ways. There is no more Ava Thule left in him, except,” Liall nodded to the fire “his language. That note was written in Avak, which is their speech.”
