The Queen's Quarry

by Frank Morin

  Hamish sighed and gestured at the hundreds of villagers gathered on both sides of the square. “Look around, block-head. You’ve created a problem, so just answer the question unless you want to get thrown out of Emmerich for good.”

  Stuart glared but answered. “I love her.” He cast the words at Hamish like a challenge. Torben’s glare deepened and his fists clenched. He definitely planned to take up that challenge.

  Hamish glanced at Stefanie. Generally in an honor duel, the girl was not supposed to interfere. She was staring at Stuart with the same empty-headed adoration. Hamish felt like asking Mhairi if she’d checked the girl for early-onset insanity.

  “And do you welcome his courtship?” Hamish asked.

  Stefanie blushed. The look was very appealing on her plump cheeks. “I do.”Love is Really Blind.

  Hamish turned to Lord Wenzel and Lady Theda. “You are willing to allow a courtship to proceed? He is not nobility.”

  Stuart opened his mouth to protest, but Hendry waved him to silence.

  Lord Wenzel considered Stuart for a moment, and a frown tugged at his mouth before he concealed it. “The situation is unusual, but then again, so is our entire existence right now.” He gestured from his people to the Alasdairians. “Stuart is a cutter, and it is not unknown for such a courtship to occur in Granadure. I don’t like it, but I might consider it. However, that makes the honor duel all the more important.”

  Lady Theda added, “In this time of strife, demonstrating that our two nations can indeed learn to live in peace together is critically important. Lady Verena has accepted courtship from an Obrioner commoner. We cannot ignore that precedent.”

  Hamish only hoped Verena awoke soon, and that she and Connor reconciled. No one else needed to know their relationship was struggling.

  So he nodded. “Then the next step is the honor duel, and Torben it seems clear that you’re willing to fulfill your duty as brother?”

  “Eager to serve,” he declared, not taking his eyes off Stuart.

  Hamish turned back to Hendry and Lilias. “The honor duel is an important Grandurian tradition.”

  “It’s barbaric,” Lilias said softly, frowning at Torben. “Why is it so important to try beating up a boy whose only fault is falling in love?”

  Well, Stuart had a lot of faults, but none of those were important at the moment.

  “The process demonstrates that the family takes the safety of their daughters seriously, and it helps prevent suitors who might not be sincere. Many times the honor duel is little more than a formality.”

  He glanced from Stuart to Torben and added, “Although sometimes by necessity the duel is more intense.”

  “What necessity?” Hendry asked.

  “Think about it. An Obrioner commoner has stated a public intention of courting a Grandurian noble. They may not be high nobles, but what if he even joked about courting Moira? In Obrion he could be made daor, whipped, or even executed. Here all he has to do is face a potential beating, and he gets to defend himself.”

  “Well, when you put it that way—” Hendry began.

  Lilias exclaimed, “Hendry!”

  Stuart stepped a bit closer. “Doesn’t really matter what you all think. It’s my choice.”

  “Have a care, young man,” she warned. “My husband might not be nobility, but you owe him respect for all he’s done for you and this town.”

  Stuart looked appropriately contrite. “Sorry, Lilias. I only meant I appreciate your concern, but it’s just a fist fight. I’m willing to take the risk for Stefanie.”

  Hamish said, “You can also think of this as a practice event. Once Verena wakes up, Connor will face an honor duel of his own.”

  “And if you’ll let Connor do it, don’t tell me I can’t,” Stuart said.

  Lilias sighed. “Only a fool would try to step between Connor and our dear, sweet Verena.” She fixed Stuart with a worried look. “Do be careful.”

  Wow. Hamish hadn’t expected that to work.

  They explained the situation to the rest of the townsfolk, and most of them looked eager to witness the duel. Hamish wasn’t sure if they supported Stuart’s ambitious courtship, or if they just wanted to see a fight, but the mood in the square changed to unified anticipation for the duel.

  As soon as everyone was ready, Lord Wenzel called Stuart and Torben to face each other in front of him. Stefanie joined them, facing her father, with her suitor on her right side and her brother on her left. Lord Wenzel placed a hand on each of their shoulders and spoke loudly in Grandurian.

  “We all are witnesses today of this momentous event, this public honor duel for my lovely daughter, Stefanie. All young ladies deserve to enjoy the committed protection of family in defending their virtue and honor, and today Torben stands as your protector and your designated champion.”

  Torben raised his right fist high to enthusiastic cheering from all the Emmerich locals. Lord Wenzel repeated the same words in Obrioner, eliciting a much less enthusiastic response.

  Then Lord Wenzel turned his gaze on Stuart. “Honorable love is the pursuit of every steadfast heart. You have chosen to declare to the world your intentions to court my daughter, and you are willing to fight for the right to spend time with her, to protect her virtue at all times, and to defend her from all harm. Do you so swear, and will you accept this duty today?”

  “I do,” Stuart declared, raising his fist in imitation of Torben.

  The Grandurians cheered his resolve although less loudly than they had cheered Torben. Even before Lord Wenzel completed repeating his remarks in Obrioner, the Alasdairians began wildly cheering Stuart.

  Hamish had never seen an actual honor duel, although he’d heard much about them. He found it funny that Stuart was charged with protecting Stefanie. As a Rumbler, she could easily beat up both him and Torben together.

  Hamish hoped neither of the combatants got hurt too badly. That could overwhelm the good will sweeping the town. The two men glared at each other, making it clear neither would relent easily. Torben was the picture of Grandurian might, well-muscled, blonde, bright blue eyes, and chiseled good looks. Stuart was a little bigger, a little meatier, and a lot uglier. The two could easily hurt each other if the fight got too intense.

  “Then I command you both to fight honorably and cleanly. The match will be decided if one of you can no longer continue, or if you signal surrender by raising a hand with fingers outspread. Do you understand?”

  When both men nodded agreement, he gestured Stefanie back, then retreated ten steps and said loudly, “Let the duel begin!”

  The two lunged at each other amid shouts of encouragement from all sides that echoed back and forth across the square. They met in a flurry of meaty punches, beating on each other with more enthusiasm than skill. Both big men shrugged off blows that would have toppled smaller opponents, and Hamish’s worry grew. They were fighting hard, with that wild look in their eyes that he’d seen far too often in real battles.

  He’d grown up as friends with Stuart and rivals for Jean’s affection. For much of the last couple years prior to the battles of Alasdair, he’d dreamed of pummeling Stuart the way Torben was. Now he was surprised to find himself rooting for Stuart, hoping he’d win the right to court Stefanie. Not only might their courtship help unite the towns, but Stuart really looked like he was in love, and Hamish would always root for love winning out in the end.

  After the first wild flurry of punches, Stuart closed to grappling range and tried to tie up Torben’s arms for a throw. The problem was, Torben had actually trained in combat. He easily reversed the hold and sent Stuart tumbling off his feet. He landed on his backside against the fountain amid a fresh wave of cheering from the Grandurians and shouts of encouragement from the Obrioners.

  Stefanie circled the fighting, looking like she wanted to help Stuart. She cast an angry glare at her brother, but he ignored it. In that second, they reminded Hamish of Anika and Erich.

  Stuart leaped back to his feet and tackl
ed Torben. Cheering erupted from both sides as the men rolled over each other, pummeling and grappling. Neither gained advantage, so they rolled away from each other and returned to their feet.

  Stuart charged again, but Torben slapped his punching fist to the side, twisting him, and giving himself a chance to slip around behind Stuart. In a flash, Torben wrapped powerful arms around Stuart’s shoulders and neck in a hold that Hamish recognized.

  His heart sank. That choke hold was hard to escape. He’d learned a couple tricks to get out of it, but doubted Stuart knew any of them. The fight would end with a loss for love. He’d have to make sure the Obrioners understood what that meant, particularly Stuart.

  The two men swayed and staggered. Torben knew he held the advantage and said between panting breaths, “Surrender now. Extend hand or I choke to sleep.”

  “Never,” Stuart swore, eliciting a round of appreciative cheering even from the Grandurians. Everyone loved determined love, and Stuart was gaining a lot of support.

  He was still about to lose, though.

  Stuart dropped to one knee. The abrupt move dragged Torben forward over him, and Stuart lunged back up with a mighty heave, throwing the two of them back. They crashed into the fountain so hard they smashed through the ice in the lower bowl. Torben lost his hold and staggered to his feet, spitting water and gasping from the cold. Hamish grimaced. That kind of shock could steal the breath away and leave a man cramped and unable to move.

  Stuart erupted from the icy water beside Torben, his huge fist whipping up in a mighty uppercut that caught Torben in the jaw. Stefanie’s defender flew up and back, right out of the fountain as he somersaulted over backward and landed on his head.

  He did not move.

  His mother rushed to his side. Lord Wenzel blinked a couple of times, obviously surprised and disappointed. But he recovered quickly, raised both fists into the air, and shouted, “Stuart wins!”

  The square erupted into wild cheering as everyone rushed to congratulate Stuart. He stumbled out of the fountain, soaking wet and shaking, but grinning like a fool. Stefanie threw her arms around him and kissed him squarely on the lips.

  Stuart’s eyes widened and he looked like he might fall right back into the fountain. Stefanie caught him and easily lifted him off the ground, carrying him through the throngs of people who swarmed them with shouted congratulations.

  Hamish laughed and clapped. The fight had been close enough that the Grandurians would not begrudge Stuart courting their lord’s daughter. Torben had defended Stefanie’s honor with sufficient intensity to satisfy everyone, but love had still carried the day.

  He pushed through the crowds to Lord Wenzel and Lady Theda, who knelt on either side of Torben. He was sitting up, with Mhairi checking him for concussion. Her gaggle of healer students clustered close, watching her every move with rapt attention.

  “He’ll be fine,” Mhairi pronounced. “A couple of cracked teeth that might have to be pulled, but he’s as thick a blockhead as Stuart.”

  Lady Theda said, “Leave the teeth, We’ll summon a Healer to tend them.”

  Hamish breathed a sigh of relief. Things might just turn out all right.

  Lord Wenzel cast a final worried glance toward Stuart and his daughter at the center of the throng, then shrugged.

  When they leveraged Torben to a sitting position, Hamish clapped him on the shoulder. “You fought well.”

  “He fought better,” Torben grinned. His teeth looked slightly twisted as well as cracked, but he seemed remarkably happy. “Stuart is worthy to court Stefanie.”

  “Then it is time to celebrate,” Lord Wenzel said loudly to more cheering.

  Hamish rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He had indeed timed his return perfectly. Lunch was shaping up to be epic.

  24

  Grace Under Pressure

  Shona climbed the long, winding stair toward the throne room to attend afternoon court, but her mind was unfocused and whirling. The added fear of knowing that she would soon stand in the presence of Queen Dreokt, but without her normal shield of careful calm served to escalate her anger at Connor to an even higher level. Blinking back tears, Shona cursed him for being such a grouted block-head.

  He had no idea what she was going through or the constant terror she lived in. She couldn’t even share her fears openly with her father. He was committed so wholeheartedly to the queen’s service, Shona was starting to wonder if the she’d tampered with his amazing brain too.

  “Connor, this is no time for your stupidity,” she muttered to herself as she stomped up the stairs. Even though the queen had beaten both Connor and Ivor together, she couldn’t help but believe that when Connor came to his senses and returned to her, together they could find a way to set things right.

  It was all Verena’s fault.

  The vile wench Builder must have questionable heritage in her line. She’d addled Connor’s brain beyond what Shona had ever imagined possible. Yes, she had made mistakes shepherding him toward his destiny, but Verena was nothing less than the most dangerous enemy of Obrion alive.

  Shona decided to send a coded message via the listening posts to Craigroy in Merkland. If he really did have someone embedded in Granadure with access to the comatose Verena, he needed to call upon that person now. Shona could no longer wait for Verena to die on her own. The accursed woman had shown too many times that she lacked the good grace to do what was right.

  “You took a foolish risk, Lady Shona.” Ailsa’s voice surprised her out of her reverie. Connor’s aunt stood leaning against the outer wall of the stairway above, arms folded. She looked like someone who had been waiting for a while.

  She did not need to explain what she was talking about. “I had to see him, had to glimpse a friendly face, someone not already bound to her will.”

  “How do you know they weren’t bound? What if she altered their thinking, but in more subtle ways than usual?”

  Shona gasped at the horrific idea. “Why would you suggest such a thing?”

  “Because you need to think deeper if you hope to survive these trials,” Ailsa said simply.

  “Do you think she really might have done that?” Would that explain why Connor had acted so stupidly and flat-out rejected her? He had seemed unusually distant.

  “I would have to speak with them at length to know for sure, but I suspect not.”

  “Why not?”

  “It is not her way. I have yet to see Queen Dreokt choose subtlety.”

  “True, but Connor and Ivor are unusual cases. She might be trying something new.”

  “Perhaps, but that would suggest that she believes at some level that they represent real threats to her. I do not believe our queen sees anything as a threat.”

  “She let them go, though. She hasn’t done that with anyone else.”

  “True. From the account I reviewed, she sees in them a potential use. If that is the case, then she freed them only because she does not yet feel they are ready to serve.”

  “That would mean she believes she can collect them again whenever she sees fit.”

  “There is much truth to that supposition.”

  Shona clutched her hands together to hide their shaking. “What are we going to do?” She felt such a depth of despair, it felt like she was falling into a bottomless abyss. All of her life she’d been raised and trained to always stay in control, always find a way to benefit from any situation, gain influence, and eventually accomplish her objectives. For all of her skills, all of her self-confidence, the queen had deprived her of any choice in her own fate.

  She suddenly understood how Connor felt.

  Shona couldn’t hold back the tears. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed, not caring that Ailsa saw her weakness. She wasn’t sure if she cried more for her own horrible condition or for what she’d done to Connor.

  Instead of chiding her or reminding her that she had to be strong the way her father might, Ailsa stepped close and held her. Shona leaned against he
r and drew comfort as she cried.

  If only her mother had been more like Ailsa. Her mother had never fully recovered from the failed birthing of Shona’s younger brother. Always physically weak, her mother had withdrawn into herself, and Shona barely remembered her. When Shona was seven years old, her mother had decided to return to her family’s estate in southern Obrion to see if the milder climate might cure her ailing health.

  She had never returned. She died three years later.

  Now Shona clung to Ailsa as she might have to a mother, and wished through her bitter tears that she’d known Ailsa sooner.

  After a moment, she stepped back, and Ailsa handed her a handkerchief to wipe her face. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.”

  “I understand. Attending the queen every day could break the strongest among us.”

  “But not you.”

  “I am used to dealing with the vagaries in taste of my clients. The queen’s issues deviate in magnitude more than in fundamental scope.”

  “I don’t know if I can do it. I’m terrified she’ll dig into my mind. Especially now.”

  “You must hold your thoughts like a shield like I taught you,” Ailsa said gently but firmly. “I don’t think I could find such a strong ally in all of Donleavy if you lose your nerve.”

  Shona smiled her thanks at the compliment but said, “You overestimate me. Can’t you see the queen is more obviously insane, but what she’s doing to us is no worse than we’ve done to our linn? I understand Connor now and why he had to fight so hard to break free.” Fresh tears came to her eyes. “I forced him to run away by my very nature. I lost him when I could have had him. You should hate me. Why are you helping instead?”

  Ailsa surprised her by giving her a warm, approving smile. “Because you are stronger than you think, Shona, and better than you were raised to be. Yes, you made some choices I disapprove of, and you need to let go of your lingering hopes to control my nephew.”

  Shona started to protest, but Ailsa held up a hand to calm her. “I find it encouraging that you can learn from your trials. Too many simply close their minds and bewail their fate. You will emerge stronger and wiser for your challenges.”