Fate's Star

by Elizabeth Vaughan

  Warna gave him a smile, that turned into a yawn.

  “You’re tired.” Verice stood, and all the dogs rose with him. “I’ll walk you to your new chambers.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The night air was cool as they walked the few steps to the Healing Hall. The dogs paced beside them quietly.

  Warna opened the main door, and stepped within to utter darkness. She paused as Verice came in behind her. “Just a moment, I’ll strike a—”

  Verice whispered a soft word under his breath and every candle in the room flared to life.

  Warna gasped in utter delight. “Lord and Lady,” she breathed. “I tend to forget you can do that.”

  Verice raised his eyebrows. Standing in the center of the rug, he seemed to pull all the light to him, tall and commanding. The dogs had piled in with him, and were sniffing everything in sight.

  “My thanks, m’lord,” Warna said.

  “For lighting your candles?” Verice asked.

  “For the meal,” Warna answered simply. “For the work, the shelter, the...haven.”

  “You’ll be comfortable here?” Verice peered up the dark stairs. “Alone?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Warna took up one of the small lanterns. The candle within flickered and flamed.

  “Wait,” Verice moved closer, reaching for the lantern’s door.

  Warna held it higher, suddenly conscious of Verice’s warmth as he leaned down and removed the candle. His scent tickled her nose, his silver hair brushing her arm like silk. Part of her wanted to step back, to seek her own space. Part of her wanted something more. Something exciting, and terrifying at the same—

  “Let’s make this a bit safer.” Verice held out his hand, and started to chant quietly. A small swirl of light started to coalesce in the center of his palm. Sparkling strands of light wrapped themselves in a tiny ball.

  Warna caught her breath, afraid to breathe for fear of destroying it.

  Verice chuckled. “It’s not fragile.” He placed it inside the lantern and worked the shutter, dimming and brightening the light. “You see?”

  “Will it fade?” Warna asked, admiring the golden glow.

  “Eventually,” Verice said. “All things do.”

  Warna glanced at his face then, saw the weariness in his eyes. “You’re tired,” she murmured. She lowered the lantern, and eased back from his warmth. “Thank you for the escort, m’lord.”

  Verice frowned slightly. “Sand, Gray,” he waited for the dogs to turn their heads, then nodded toward her. “Guard.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Warna protested as the dogs heaved themselves up and walked toward her.

  “For company, if nothing else,” Verice said firmly.

  “Thank you.” Warna took the lantern, and started up the steps, the dogs following. It felt wrong. She hesitated, glancing back, not really wanting to leave. No, not really wanting to leave...him.

  She caught him off guard. For the barest of moments, she saw a flash of heat in his eyes, gone so quickly she must have imagined it.

  Verice bowed to her. “Sleep well,” and then he was gone, the other dogs with him, the door pulled quietly closed behind him, the latch catching with a click.

  His desire caught Verice off guard.

  She paused on the stairs, the lantern in one hand, the other on the railing, half-turned in the light to look back at him. The gold of her hair gleamed and her skin glowed.

  His body reacted, but he denied it in an instant, stifling the impulse to follow her up the stairs. There must have been something in his face, since her blue eyes went wide, startled but unafraid.

  He bowed, hiding his eyes. “Sleep well,” and slipped through the door as quickly as he could. He stood there, catching his breath, listening to her fading footsteps. He waited until he heard her above, then he left, cursing himself for a fool.

  Warna shifted, restless under her blankets.

  The room was cool and dark. Both dogs were sprawled on the rug next to the bed, giving the occasional soft snort.

  The little lantern sat at her bedside. She’d left the shutter open slightly, and the dim light was just enough for her to see by.

  The bed was comfortable, the blankets warm. She wasn’t hungry, frightened, or hiding in a ditch. She just couldn’t sleep.

  And when she closed her eyes, all she saw was Verice.

  She shifted on to her back, and huffed out a breath as she stared at the timbers over her head. She’d imagined it, of course. Verice was a Lord High Baron, so far above her station as to be...not to mention being an elven lord. What was she thinking?

  Warna huffed again. Well, pretty clearly, she wasn’t thinking, at least not with her brain.

  Her mother had warned her that the spirit might be wary and careful, but the body had its own ideas sometimes. “Nothing wrong with looking,” she’d said. “just don’t act on those thoughts.”

  Your life is your own, Warna.” Kalynn’s voice floated through her mind.

  Warna caught her breath.

  Then she snorted at her foolishness, shifted on to her side, and thumped her pillow into shape. One of the dogs started and raised its head to look at her. Finding nothing amiss, it yawned and returned to sleep.

  Warna hugged her pillow. She was reading too much into a glance. Verice had been kind, had extended his protections to her, given her food and shelter and work. Nothing more than that, and she would not interpret his kindness as some sort of interest. She owed him more than that disrespect.

  Lord High Baron Verice was a man caught in his sorrow and grief. The fact that he was reaching out to her; was letting her take actions he himself couldn’t bring himself to take, was a matter of trust. Spoken or unspoken, she’d not take advantage of him.

  She closed her eyes firmly, and tried to avoid thinking about elven eyes that burned silver-blue. She thought about dust, and soap, and stocking the shelves and cupboards of the healer’s house.

  But her last conscious thought was how terrible it would be...if the one thing she wanted was the one thing she couldn’t have.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  In the morning, Warna delayed going down to breakfast until the dogs were whining at the door, staring at her over their shoulders. “Sorry, boys,” she whispered as she opened the latch.

  Verice and his men had already departed the castle, which had been her intent. Still, she felt oddly disappointed as she slipped into the dining area and managed to snag a bowl of porridge and a mug of kav. The cooks had scraps waiting for the dogs.

  “Aye, he’s off,” one of the cooks told her. “Said he’d be later this night getting back.”

  Warna shrugged her agreement, but couldn’t help worrying that he might run into fighting on his travels. Still, his absence suited her plans. Warna drained her mug with thanks, and headed for the QuarterMaster’s offices. Outside were three carts, filled with casks and duns of ale and beer.

  Inside, was complete chaos.

  “I tell you, the account is overdue.” A rather large man of decidedly more girth than height filled the small area in front of the high counters. He carried with him the scent of yeast and hops. His face was set and he was clearly determined to be heard. “I’ll have it paid this day, or know why.”

  “And I’m telling you, it’s been paid.” Quartermaster Farnor snapped. “But we can’t find the reckoning. If you’ll have a bit a patience—”

  “That’s what ya said the last time and the time afore.” The man rumbled. “I’ve no mind to run a credit until you’re—”

  Warna slipped in and pulled the door closed behind her.

  The big man turned and frowned. “Who’s this, then?”

  “M’lady,” Farnor started, but Warna forestalled him.

  “I’m Warna of Farentell.” She smiled at the man. “Are you the brewer of that fine ale we’ve been drinking?”

  The man blinked in surprise. “Aye, aye, although I’d naught know’ed the army was taking women into its ranks.�
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  “It’s not, Pierson, you daft fool,” Farnor snapped. “The lady is here under the Lord’s protection.”

  “The same as what rode through town with him the other day?” Pierson was giving Warna the once over, and she couldn’t help but notice his eyes flick to her ears. “Well, then, pleased ta meet ya, lady.”

  “The same,” Warna responded. “I take it there’s trouble with the accounts?”

  Both men erupted back into their argument, each talking over the other. Warna saw the younger clerk scurrying in the background, searching for something.

  She raised a hand, and both men went quiet. “Pay him half,” Warna said.

  “Eh?”

  “You’re been dealing with each other for years, yes?” Warna raised an eyebrow at both of them. “Neither of you is cheating the other, it’s just a matter of resolving the accounts. Pay him half of what he asks, then settle the matter when the books have been located.” She waited patiently as they thought that through. “Or waste more time yelling at one another,” she added.

  Both men looked at each other, then Pierson huffed out an explosive breath. “Aye, that’s well. If you think so, Farnor.”

  “I’ll find the accounting by your next delivery,” Farnor agreed. There was a swift exchange of coin, and Pierson was on his way.

  “My thanks, m’lady,” Farnor said with a sigh. “This mess is enough to drive me into my cups. Wasn’t this way before.”

  “Where were your old offices?” Warna asked.

  “Second barracks,” he said. “Right across the way. A place for everything and room to work,” he said. “Not that his Lordship’s not within his rights. But…” His voice trailed off.

  “But just the same, it causes chaos, doesn’t it?” Warna shook her head.

  They shared sympathetic looks, then Farnor squinted at her. “So how can I assist you?” he asked.

  “I want to order supplies for the Healing Hall,” Warna said. “We need to make sure that it’s supplied in case of need.”

  “Well, we never kept that stocked.” The clerk frowned. “The Seneschal took care of that aspect. I’ve lists of the supplies the units carry on the field but that’s not what you are looking for.”

  “Is the Seneschal in town?” Warna asked.

  Farnor shook his head sadly. “No, lady. He was slain—” his eyes shifted in the direction of the keep.

  “Oh,” Warna said. That was right, and it explained quite a bit to her, especially about Verice...Lord Verice’s actions. “Well, who else would know?” Warna asked.

  “Priest Dominic,” Farnor said. “He’s the head of the Church, and assigned himself to run the Hall. He’s in town now, far as I know.”

  Warna nodded, thinking. “What about Lord Verice’s staff. His clerks—”

  “All in town,” Farnor said. “The lord shut the castle down, but work of the barony still goes on as best it can.”

  “So, they are still working with Lord Verice?”

  “Oh, aye, Lady. More ‘in spite’ of than ‘with’, but aye. The Lord kept them all on, but won’t allow them within the walls.” He shrugged. “Lord Verice doesn’t give the work the proper attention it—” He stopped when he saw her frown. “No disrespect intended, m’lady. Lord Verice is a warrior, and he’s seeing to that right well.”

  “But there are other aspects to ruling,” Warna said quietly. “Things that involve paper and ink, and not quite the level of excitement.”

  Once again, they exchanged understanding looks.

  Warna made her decision. “Very well then, I am going to go into town. I will talk to them, and see what needs doing.” She hesitated, but then went on. “I also need a few supplies. Would it be possible to get a few coins…” It was her turn to let her voice trail off, trying not to show her embarrassment.

  “Oh, aye,” Farnor chuckled. “Lord Verice left instructions.” He busied himself for a moment, then plunked down a bulging coin purse on the counter.

  Warna opened the bag, and gold coins spilled out into her hand. She caught her breath, then shook her head. “No. I am not taking this much,”

  “Lady?”

  “Silvers and coppers,” she said firmly, pushing the bag back. “And not nearly this much.”

  “But—”

  The argument was fairly short, and didn’t last long. There was no way she was carrying that much money around with her. She made sure that Farnor counted out the smaller coins, fully intending to account to him for every copper.

  Although she might not mention moon pads specifically.

  On her way out, she stopped and asked Ricard for a mount and a guide through town. Then she ran up the stairs to change into her skirts. She’d see the healer, talk to the clerk, and then see to her own needs. Maybe a few pieces of older clothing, or cloth and thread, although needles were dear.

  She emerged into the courtyard, eager to go—

  To find Ricard holding her mount, and an escort of twenty armed and armored men in a semi-circle around him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The twenty warriors were unnaturally still, their armor gleaming in the sunlight. Their horses too, stood without so much as a twitch of their tails.

  “What’s this?” Warna asked.

  “Your escort,” Constable Ricard replied. “Ustov knows the town well. He’s in command.”

  Ustov saluted her.

  “Did Verice order this?” Warna asked.

  “I have no orders as such,” Ricard replied.

  “Oh, well, then—” Warna started to smile.

  “But then I have no orders against it either,” Ricard continued.

  “Constable,” Warna fixed a glare on him. “I’m not—”

  “Let’s take a moment and consider,” Ricard said. “The town watch is under-manned, what with almost all able-bodied maels going to the borders to serve.”

  “Constable,” Warna started.

  “And the tide of refugees coming in, means that the town’s awash in ruffians and ne’er-do-wells in the streets.”

  “This is silly,” Warna said. “There’s no need for—”

  “What happens if harm comes to you?”

  Warna snapped her mouth shut, and pressed her lips together.

  “My Lord Verice would not be pleased, seeing as he entrusted your safety to me.”

  “But—”

  “But more important,” Ricard interrupted. “Far more important to my way of thinking, is what he’s entrusted to you.”

  “What?” Warna snapped.

  Ricard took a step closer to her, and lowered his voice. He stared right at her, his voice calm but emphatic. “For the past ten months, that lad has been afflicted, m’lady. Same routine, same narrow focus every day. You’ve got him moving. Slow, true enough. But moving. If ought happens to you, what then, eh?”

  Warna opened her mouth, then closed it.

  “Aye to that,” Ricard stepped back and raised his voice. “This is a good start, but I’ve a mind to add a few more. A foot patrol, perhaps, with some stout crossbows.”

  “Why not a drum, to keep the beat?” Warna crossed her arms over her chest.

  That provoked a twitch from one of the men.

  “Not a bad idea, lady. Give me but a moment more—”

  “Constable Ricard,” Warna could not believe her ears.

  “We’ll have you fixed up and on your way—”

  “Constable, I am not taking a small army to buy moon pads,” Warna snapped.

  Silence. Utter and complete silence.

  Warna blushed furiously. From what she could tell, so did Ricard.

  “Stand your men down,” she threw her hands up in surrender. “If you can provide messengers…”

  “Milo, front and center!” Ricard bellowed. One of the men dismounted and led his horse up to her.

  “I’ve a message for the Priest Dominic, of the Church of the Lord of Light,” Warna looked up at the man. “You know it?”

  Milo nodded.

/>   “My compliments to the Priest Dominic. I’d like his advice about restocking the Healers Hall with supplies. If he could provide a list of all the items required, I’ll see it done.” Warna said.

  “Wait for an answer,” Ricard commanded.

  Milo nodded and mounted.

  Ricard gestured to another man, who trotted his horse over.

  Warna looked up. “There’s a clerk, one Ersal, who used to aid Lord Verice with petitions. My compliments, and would he call at his convenience and collect some pending petitions that Verice needs assistance with? Tell him to ask for me at the gate.”

  “Off you go lads,” Ricard commanded, and both started off toward the main gate. “The rest of you, return to your normal duties.”

  The men dismounted, leading their horses back to the stables, removing their helmets.

  “As to the other matters, miss,” Ricard lowered his voice. “I could talk to my wife, m’lady and…”

  “Yes. That would be lovely,” Warna figured the day couldn’t get much worse than what it already was. “There’s no rush,” she added quickly, with visions of mounted messengers being sent out across the land.

  She turned back toward the Healing Hall. She’d change, return the coins, and find something to clean within an inch of its life.

  That thought made her pause at the door then spin on her heels. “Constable?”

  “Yes, miss?” Ricard called from across the yard.

  “Where is the Second Barracks?”

  By mid-day, Warna felt better.

  Not surprisingly, her escort of warriors all magically appeared to aid her in cleaning out the barracks. Their motivations were pretty clear, since they’d started discussing the reassignments of quarters before they were even done with the floors.

  She, in turn, made it clear that the first ones to move in would be the supply clerks, and sent one lad running over to warn the Quartermaster to start packing for the move. “We need this all done this afternoon,” she told the Ricard. “Before Lord Verice returns.”

  He didn’t disagree.