Farindian Summer (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 4)

by Loren K. Jones

  “Now for the hardest part,” Aric said as he sat down. “The waiting.”

  Stavin nodded and picked up a cup. “Do you want tea, Dahvin?”

  Dahvin smiled and nodded. “You should let the servants do that, Stave.”

  Stavin nodded and let Sindal take the cup from him. She poured cups for all three men, then served them. She asked, “Would you care for something to eat, lords?”

  Dahvin shook his head, but both Stavin and Aric nodded. “What did you bring?” Aric asked.

  Sindal smiled. “Eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, cheese, cubed white tubers, onions, peppers, and mushrooms, sir,” she said as she faced Aric.

  Aric was looking confused. “Prepared how?”

  “However you prefer, sir,” Sindal replied. “This is a cook-cart. I will prepare your morning meal here.”

  “Oh!” Aric said in surprise. “Handy. Scrambled eggs, sausage, and white tubers with onions.”

  Stavin said, “Sounds good. I’ll have the same.” He looked over at Sallin and smiled. The boys were asleep in her lap, and she didn’t appear fully awake either. “Let them sleep. It’s going to be a long day.”

  It was only a few spans later that there was a knock at the door and Avrin escorted Lord Zel’Bordal in. “Ah, Dahvin, the guards said you’d be here. How are you holding up?”

  “I feel like I’m coming apart, Fortan,” Dahvin replied.

  “About right,” the lord replied as he smiled at his son-in-law. His smile deepened when he saw the serving cart. “I see someone has been through this before. Prince Stavin,” he said with a bow of acknowledgement, “how are you this oh so very early morning?”

  Stavin smiled. “Babies keep their own schedule, Lord Fortan. Please join us.” He indicated a chair and Avrin moved it over to face the others.

  When Lord Fortan was seated and Sindal had started his morning meal, he looked at Dahvin and smiled. “Eden is with Glori and the ladies. I was confused at first because I already heard a baby crying, but I understand it was one of the princesses. The guardsmen standing at the door seemed somewhat disgruntled.”

  Stavin made a sour face before he replied. “Too bad. There are already the twenty men of the king’s guard detail outside the suite. I hardly need twenty more out in the hall. And I’m a lot more concerned about Shari and the girls than I am about me.” He reached back and lifted the Sword of Zel’Hallan into view. “No one is going to come near me with this around.”

  “So long as you keep it around you,” Aric pointed out. “You weren’t wearing it earlier.”

  “No, but—”

  “No ‘buts’, Stave,” Aric interrupted. “You weren’t carrying that sword when we were in the hall. And you have to have on your gauntlet for the power to work. Without it you’re just a scrawny little runt in a silk shirt.”

  Stavin looked at Aric with a terribly hurt expression. It had been over two years since anyone had called him a runt. He was on the verge of tears when he asked, “Aric, why?” in a quavering tone that sounded like he was crying.

  “Because I want you to think about it, Stave,” Aric replied without any trace of apology. “You in your armor with that sword is one thing. You in silk and satin without so much as a knife on you is another. True, even unarmed you’re a nasty customer, but unless you take precautions all the time, someone is going to try you. And while you may come out in one piece, you might lose a few guards, and I’m beginning to like some of these over-bred prigs.”

  Stavin sat silently considering Aric’s rant for a moment before answering. “So you’re saying that I’m being cocky and if I don’t get myself killed, I’ll get someone else killed?”

  Aric nodded once. “Essentially, yes.”

  Stavin glanced at Dahvin and wasn’t surprised to see agreement in his friend’s face. “The king isn’t going to like me walking around in armor.”

  “No, he’s not,” Lord Fortan agreed. He’d remained silent while Aric was scolding Stavin, but now felt it was safe to jump in. “Not in court and certainly not in Council. However, your rude relation is correct. You are vulnerable, and you must remember that at all times. It’s a price we all pay. Princess Marina and King Kalin don’t like it either. Kalin and I were lieutenants together, and I remember his frustration with the Royal Guards when he returned to Twin Bridges. Queen Rebanna had even more trouble with him, because Kalin was a superior swordsman.” He smiled at Stavin’s surprised expression. “You didn’t know that, did you? Our good king was one of the best swordsmen in our command.” He looked at Dahvin and grinned. “Dahral was the only one who could beat him consistently.”

  Stavin was staring out into nothingness. “The night of the attack he came out of his room with a sword in his hand, but I never thought—” Stavin’s voice faded as Lord Fortan continued.

  “You didn’t think he was really going to use it. That’s the fallacy of royalty, Prince Stavin: People see the silk and forget the steel beneath it. But every king has served in the Army for a minimum of two years. Kalin served for eight. King Ordan was young when Kalin was born, so there was no hurry for him to return.” Lord Fortan smiled over at Dahvin. “Kalin and Dahral both made major in those eight years, and it wasn’t a sinecure because of their families. I only did my two and returned home, but those two were real officers.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Dahvin whispered.

  Lord Fortan smiled. “Did you know that your father was a prankster?”

  “Dad?”

  “Oh, yes. And his favorite accomplice was our good king-to-be.” He smiled widely and launched into a series of stories about the young Kalin and Dahral. The stories kept all of them distracted until mid morning. Then another distraction arrived.

  Five of the guards that Stavin had left at Dahvin’s door came to get them, and escorted them back. Dahvin was met by the midwife. “Lord Dahvin, you have a son.”

  “A boy?” Dahvin asked in a breathy whisper as a wide grin stretched his lips.

  “A boy. Go in, your good wife is holding him.” The midwife smiled and stepped aside as Dahvin led his father-in-law and friends into his bedroom.

  Glora was lying on the bed with the baby in her arms. She was soaked with sweat and her hair was in total disarray, but no one cared. She smiled at the top of the baby’s head and sighed. “He’s perfect, Dahv. Perfect.”

  Dahvin was looking at his son with wide eyes, and reached out one trembling finger to stroke the baby’s still-damp hair. “Dahrin. I name this boy Dahrin Fortan Dahral Zel’Fordal.”

  Chapter 15

  STAVIN TOOK TWENTY ROYAL GUARDSMEN WITH him to Valovad nine days later. Shari and Sora, along with the children, stayed behind. Glora and little Dahrin were all but permanent fixtures in the Prince’s Suite, and Sora was, as expected, needed.

  Barvil detailed Larvin Kel’Seran to command Stavin’s escort. Larvin boasted the single hollowed star of a Warleader Fifth on his shoulder, as did four of the other veterans. He was the most senior of the warriors, except for Karvik, of course, but Karvik’s inexperience relegated him to a second-in-command position.

  The trip was a chance for Stavin and Karvik to tell tales about one another and their previous trips, and they kept their comrades amused on the four-day ride. They arrived at the Kel’Aniston Trading House late the fourth day and dismounted in front of the manor.

  “Damn, Stave,” Karvik said in a hushed tone as he looked at the mansion, “you said it was huge, but I didn’t think you meant this big.” None of the other warriors could even manage to say that much.

  A man came out on the porch while they were staring and asked, “May I be of service, goodmen?”

  Stavin looked up and recognized him, and started up the stairs. “Hello, Feld. Is Mistress Corinne here?”

  Feld looked at the young man coming toward him, then fell to his knees and bowed his head. “Prince Stavin, welcome to your House. Mistress Corinne is in the library, Your Highness.”

  “Thank you, Feld. Please lead the warriors
around to the stables and see to it that the horses are cared for.”

  Feld bowed even further and replied, “At once, Your Highness.”

  Stavin and Karvik, along with Larvin and another veteran, kept going into the house and up the stairs to the library. They found Corinne studying a ledger book. She asked, “Who was it, Feld?” without looking up from her book.

  “Just me, Corinne,” Stavin replied and her head whipped around. Her mouth opened in shock, then she went to her knees.

  “Prince Stavin, I didn’t expect you.”

  Stavin laughed. “Get up, Corinne.” She did as he said, but it was clear that she was still unsure of herself. “I heard about your grandmother. I miss her.”

  The tension in Corinne’s frame eased and she nodded. “So do I, Prince Stavin. What can I do for you?”

  “Just came down to see how things are going. I have a message from your mother for you.” He pulled a message tube out of his pouch and handed it over. “We’re only staying for two days, then I have to go back. There are twenty-one of us, but ten will be on watch at all times. We’ll just need rooms for the other eleven.”

  Corinne actually smiled at that. “This house has plenty of bedrooms. I’ll have Elanst freshen some.”

  Karvik nudged Stavin’s shoulder and murmured, “Food.”

  Stavin grinned up at him, then turned back toward Corrine. “We’re all hungry as well.”

  “At once, Your Highness,” she replied, then headed out of the library.

  Karvik caught Stavin’s attention. “There are as many books here as you have in Kavinston.”

  “Most of them came from here, Kar. These are the duplicates from the three libraries.”

  Corinne led them down to the kitchen. “We need food for twenty-one more,” she announced as she walked through the door. “The two of you go to the Black Boar Inn and get enough food for all of us. Take Barden and the wagon and bring back a cask of beer as well.”

  Canis and Elanst had looked up from preparing the evening meal to see what was happening and immediately went to their knees when they recognized Stavin. They both answered, “Yes, Mistress Corinne,” before standing and leaving through a different door.

  Corinne turned and led Stavin and the others to a comfortable parlor. “May I offer you—no, you don’t like wine, do you Prince Stavin?” She smiled at that memory. “We’ll have plenty of beer soon.”

  Stavin smiled and nodded. “Thank you. I got your report on last year. We did well.”

  “Yes, we did. Kel’Aniston cleared three hundred gold crowns profit. That’s after I took my fifteen percent.” She smiled as Stavin chuckled. “The cloth merchants have been very happy with us.”

  “How did you manage that?” Stavin asked as he looked at her with wide-eyed curiosity.

  “I cut the price of transporting their goods. I checked the prices they were being charged and dropped them by ten percent. Our predecessors were overcharging them, so when I brought the price down to what I considered reasonable, they jumped at the chance to do business with us.” She grinned at Stavin. “I think your name may have been responsible for some of that. I maintained a fifteen percent margin over cost, and we all came out ahead.” She smiled impishly, which was an odd expression on a woman her size.

  Stavin sat back and smiled. “Well done, Corinne. Very well done indeed. Have you been in contact with the Aravad Traders’ Council?”

  “I have, but in a limited fashion. Having two separate Kel’Aniston Trading Houses might be a problem.” She considered him carefully for a moment. “You may have outsmarted yourself this time, Your Highness. The Evandian house is only charged two and a half percent to bring goods into Evandia, but your Kavadian house is going to be charged the full five percent.”

  Stavin considered that for a moment. “There were other reasons for founding the second Kel’Aniston House in Aravad. We’re shipping Kavinston’s supplies from there and I have a pair of Masters who are using the wagons, and the Kel’Aniston name through the summer. Oh, no,” he suddenly moaned, and leaned forward to put his head in his hands.

  “Oh, no, what?” Karvik asked.

  Stavin looked up at his friend with a pained expression on his face. “If the annexation goes through, I’ll have to pay the full five percent to bring in our supplies. Right now, there’s no tax between Kavadia and Farindia, but when it becomes Evandian territory, there will be.”

  Karvik chuckled. “She’s right, Stave. You outsmarted yourself.”

  Stavin shook his head in sorrow. “And I thought I had it all figured out.”

  “One must remain flexible in Trade, Prince Stavin,” Corinne said and he had to nod in agreement. “You do, however, have the Zel’Mortlan house and warehouse. That will keep the shipments in Evandia.”

  Stavin nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment. “There is that to consider. I guess it’s a good thing I can afford to make a few mistakes. How are things going other than that?” he asked, shoving the problem to the side. He still had the Aravad Traders’ Guild proposal to place before the king and council.

  “Very good. Our caravans have been running all summer, and most of the winter as well. A lot of our business goes south to the coast. Guards have been an issue once or twice, but not seriously. That’s something else we should probably discuss.”

  Stavin tilted his head to the side and asked, “How so?”

  “Hiring caravan guards on a load-by-load basis works fine if you aren’t constantly moving. We are. Our wagons seldom wait more than a day for another load, often from the merchant we just delivered to. We need our own guards.”

  Stavin shook his head. “I don’t know. Hiring full-time guards just doesn’t make sense to me. It’s not our way.”

  Corinne leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. “Prince Stavin, Kel’Aniston is a major House. Most of the big Houses do have their own guards. This far south we can and, as I just said, do run year-round. There is also the added benefit of having the same guards all the time. No surprises at hiring time, and no worrying about who you are hiring.”

  Stavin considered her statement for a moment, then nodded. “You have a suggestion, I suppose.”

  Corinne chuckled. “Of course. What I’d suggest is hiring a guard for each wagon.”

  “A bit excessive, isn’t it?” Karvik muttered.

  Corinne focused on him immediately. “For Kel’Kavin Valley Warriors, yes. For what I can hire here,” she paused to sigh and shake her head, “no.”

  “There is that,” Stavin muttered.

  Larvin had remained silent until now, but cleared his throat to get Stavin’s attention. “Your pardon, Prince Stavin, Madam Corinne, but what kind of warriors can you hire here?”

  “There are several mercenary companies in Evandia,” Corrine explained. “The Kel’Portan Guards you know, and I wouldn’t suggest them. Aside from your earlier encounters, Prince Stavin, they are ridiculously expensive. Good, but not worth the price. Then there are the Kel’Eshan Snowcats. They are not as good as you or the Kel’Portans, but they have a reputation for honesty and dependability. We can probably hire them for five sparks each per day, which is essentially what your teams charge. The Freemen are mostly Cat Clansmen who, for one reason or another, don’t fit in anywhere else. The Army produces a lot like them. Men who have the training and birthright, but can’t deal with Army discipline.”

  “Remember Carad, Stave,” Karvik said in a soft voice.

  “Good point, Kar. Corinne, negotiate an agreement with the Kel’Eshan Snowcats.” Stavin grinned. “I like Snowcats.”

  “You wouldn’t if you ever faced one,” Larvin said in a harsh whisper.

  Near the middle of the next day four armed women approached the Kel’Aniston House and tied their horses to the rail. Feld met them on the porch. “Yes, good ladies, how may I be of service?”

  “We are seeking Madam Corinne Fel’Carvin,” the leader said as she climbed the steps.

  “Yes, good ladies. This wa
y please.” The women followed Feld into the house and were immediately met by Larvin and the ten Royal Guardsmen on watch.

  “That’s far enough,” Larvin said as the women stopped. “What business do you have here?”

  The leader of the women glanced side-to-side quickly. “We have business with Madam Corrine concerning caravan guards.”

  Larvin looked confused, then shook it off. “Remove your weapons and we’ll escort you in.”

  The women’s heads came up as their eyes narrowed. “What is the Royal Guard doing here?” the apparent leader asked in a suspicious tone.

  “We are here because we’re needed,” Larvin replied. “Disarm, or you go no further.”

  “And if we refuse?”

  Larvin waved toward the door.

  “Is there a problem?” Madam Corinne asked from behind Larvin.

  “These women may not bear arms near Prince Stavin,” Larvin replied.

  “Who?” the leader of the women demanded loudly.

  “Me,” Stavin replied as he came down the stairs. He was in armor, and the Sword of Zel’Hallan was at his side. “You may not bear weapons near a member of the royal family.”

  The women took in the golden armor and immediately went to one knee. “Prince Stavin, what are you doing here?” the leader asked.

  Stavin tilted his head to the side and answered, “I own House Kel’Aniston. Who are you?”

  “We received a note from Madam Corinne requesting a meeting to negotiate for caravan guards.”

  Stavin looked at Corinne, and almost choked when he saw the expression of wicked glee on her face.

  She asked, “Did I forget to mention that the Snowcats are all women?”

  Stavin laughed and shook his head slowly. “Yes, you did, and you did it on purpose. No matter.” Stavin grinned and lightly ran up the stairs to the library.

  The four women exchanged glances, then slipped their baldrics over their heads and handed them over to the warriors. “Knives as well,” Larvin said and each woman handed her knives to the warriors.