“Princess, you have already given us so much. I cannot accept...”
“I can,” Gloriden said, interrupting her husband and lifting the purse from his hands. “Princess, we thank you.” She glanced at her husband, then ignored him. “Proud and stubborn. Princess, I have been speaking to some of the Firewalkers during the past week. They all tell the same tale of you and our family. The Scout, Mesta, especially. For the love you share with us, thank you again.”
Java smiled brightly at that and bowed slightly. “You’re welcome.”
The next morning saw Branard sitting beside the trader in the lead wagon. Gloriden and the girls were in the back, already sewing. Java stood with Marta on the porch of the Heron, waving to them as they headed toward the bridge, and home.
“You know, Java, I would’ve bet he’d find some way to refuse that purse.”
“He might have, Captain, but Gloriden has better sense. Like I told him, Anness had some choice terms for how stubborn he is.”
* * *
Summer saw the return of Robin. Ivy came to the palace, out of breath and with barely controlled tears brimming in her eyes. “Princess Java, you need to come out to the manor right away. Lady Robin is back, but Lord Marlan isn’t with her. She’s so sad.”
Java rode Sugar bareback through the streets far faster than was legal, but she didn’t care. Robin was hurt, and she needed to be there. Eldora was waiting at the door and held it open as Java rushed up the steps. “In the library, Princess.”
Robin was sitting in a chair, staring at the cold fireplace as she sipped a glass of wine. She was neatly, even elegantly dressed, but the desolate expression on her face reminded Java of the refugees on the border.
“He said no, Java.”
“Oh, Robin, I’m so sorry.”
“We arrived and Marlan introduced me, and everything was fine until Lord Gerrin started asking questions about my family. As soon as he found out that I wasn’t born a noble, that was the end of the discussions. Then they found out that I’m the Robin who is always associated with you, and he grew so cold he may as well have been made of ice. There are rumors about us in Winterhaven. He didn’t call me a sellikker or anything. I was just suddenly a non-person to him. I walked away and bought a horse an hour later. I stayed that night at an inn, and left Winter Park the next morning.”
“Are you all right?” Java asked as she sat on the arm of Robin’s chair and hugged her.
“No. I really liked him, Java. I really, really did. But it’s like Merrit told you that time. The only men who are likely to accept women like us are mercs,” Robin whispered, then turned her face to Java’s chest and sobbed.
Robin waited a week before she broached the subject of leaving again to Java. “Java, I’m sending a note to Carlin Bolder. I’m inviting him to come visit me in Linkville.”
“Why are you going to Linkville, Robin? To be with your family?”
Robin looked at Java sideways. “I stopped and cried on the way back, Java. But there are other things that need my attention. Don’t you remember about the bridges and dam? Marta told me on my way through that I would be needed in a few weeks, so I’m going now.”
Java smiled softly at that. “I forgot. Please stay at the manor, Robin. That way you and Carlin won’t keep your parents awake all night.”
Other, less dramatic things were happening as well. The duchy was almost fully recovered from the strain of the war. Unfortunately, this signaled the return of the petty bickering that was such an integral part of palace politics.
Lord Daveed was instigating trouble for Java again, this time about her refusal to conform to tradition.
“It’s not your place, Princess, to be involved in the day to day running of the duchy. It will be the duke’s responsibility to see to our welfare.”
Before Java or Jah’Moke could say anything, Selvin Emverson slapped the table with both hands as he snapped to his feet. Lord Emver had begun delegating his place to Selvin, as his heir, saying that he might as well get used to court with Java and Jah’Moke.
“Daveed, you pompous twit,” he growled, obviously surprising Daveed. They had been good friends for years, and he had counted on Selvin’s support. “Duke Arten and Duchess Naria have ruled as equals for years. What makes you think Jah’Moke and Java will do any different?” He gestured to where Java was sitting beside Arten, while Jah’Moke was sitting beside Naria. “Haven’t you noticed that they each spend time at the duke’s side? Just because you demand that Shannon stay home and keep out of your way doesn’t mean that everyone else has to follow your example.”
Daveed looked at Selvin from under lowered eyebrows. “Currying favor won’t do you any good, Selvin. Neither of them has ties with any of us.”
“I’m not currying favor, Daveed,” Selvin snapped back. “I’m stating plain fact. Duchess Java and Duke Jah’Moke will rule as equals, just as Duke Arten and Duchess Naria have. That’s what they are being taught to do. It’s also the Latté way. Husband and wife are partners, not lord and slave.”
“Are you accusing me of treating Shannon like a slave?” Daveed shouted, bracing his hands on the council table and leaning forward to glare at Selvin.
“Silence!” Jah’Moke shouted as he stood, surprising everyone, but most especially Java. Even she had never heard him raise his voice, except in battle. “How Java and I rule, when our time comes,” he paused to bow to Arten, “is our affair. Java is much more adept at dealing with the day to day affairs than I am. She has had more practice. And Lord Selvin is correct about the Latté: Our wives have equal standing among us. Essen’Do lets Dee’Sol lead because he is better at it than she is. If it had been otherwise, then Essen’Do would be Carr’Bon. The title is the same for men and women.”
Lord Calin stood and waited until Jah’Moke sat before speaking. “The princess told me the story of how Lord Cross was chosen to replace Lord Broward. Do you know it, Daveed?” He paused, and when Daveed shook his head, smiled. “You were chosen, not by Duke Arten alone, but by the royal family. Duchess Naria and Princess Java each had a say in the choice. If I remember correctly, it was Duchess Naria who proposed you for the position, not Duke Arten.”
Daveed was looking more confused and unhappier by the moment. Arten decided to put an end to the discussion. “Lord Wellington is correct. My choice was Cahrin Windston, but I let Naria and Java sway me. A decision that I have had cause to regret.” His intense gaze had Daveed squirming, then he smiled and turned the discussion to other topics.
* * *
Other maneuvering was taking place as well. Lords from every rank were daily seeking audiences with both Java and Jah’Moke, a circumstance that caused both Arten and Naria some worried moments. They needn’t have been concerned, though. Jah’Moke was far too suspicious of the intentions of even the most honorable of the lords to let them sway him. Java, for some mysterious reason, was regarded as something of an innocent. Lords who were old enough to be her father sought her out, intending to ingratiate themselves somehow.
Lord Cray Bloodworth stood in the hall, staring at the doors he had so recently been escorted through. He had come to the princess seeking appointment as overseer of her lumber operation in northern Link County, only to be told that Java was elevating the foreman to the post. When he had protested, explaining that while the man seemed competent to a girl of Java’s tender years, it was not befitting that a commoner hold such a position, she had thrown him out. He complained about it later to one of his peers in the Gilded Lilly.
“The girl is impossible! She’s so young, yet she refuses to listen to the council of her elders.”
Lord Norman Fulhaw nodded his agreement. Java had thrown him out before he could even make his request. “Head strong. That’s what she is. Head strong. If my daughter acted like that...”
“...You’d be proud of her,” Lady Cheri Shapleton said from her table. Turning to face them, she wagged a finger at the men. “You old goats had better remember that she’s in her
twenties, even though she looks like a little girl. Insulting her because of her size isn’t going to win you any favors.”
There were also those who did have pull with the young royals. Both began receiving visitors from their old companies. Lieutenant Mark Henley stood in front of Java and Jah’Moke, having asked to see them together.
“Princess, Jah’Moke, it’s good to see the two of you so happy. I’m here to make a request, if I may?” He paused and received nods and smiles from both of them. “Princess, I would like to establish a town in Mountainstand County. It will be south, down near your mill, on the trade road.”
“Why are you coming to me instead of Lady Skyhaven? She has control of the county,” Java asked, looking closely at him.
“I did, but she sent me to you.” He paused to hand her a note.
“She says she approves but wants my concurrence for something this large.” Java spoke as she read, then looked up. “Very well, I agree. How big of a town are you planning?”
Lieutenant Henley took a deep breath before continuing. “Not large, just an inn, and maybe a store. Lady Skyhaven has been granting farming rights to just about everyone who asks, and the nearest town in the south is Jeven’s Bridge, in Lender’s Dale. It’s still a three-day trip. That or Lone Pine, but it’s ten days from the area that is being farmed.”
“Very well. What’s the news? From your request, I take it that you’ve left the Vandals,” Jah’Moke asked, smiling at his former lieutenant.
“I haven’t, yet. I wanted to get permission first. The news is good, for the most part. The company has thinned out quite a bit as men have been retiring to either start families or get on with building for the ones they have. A number of our men have been marrying your women, Princess. Both Captain Wilkinson and Captain Rivers have been granting dismissals at what, to me at least, seems to be an alarming pace. We are training the replacements right, though. The mountains north of Thunder Ridge make an excellent training ground. A lot of our people have also been moving to your towns up in the north. There’s little farmland to be had, but many of them are artisan’s sons anyway, so all they really need is a house or shop. I understand that the Carver’s League is negotiating with Lady Shair about founding a Chapter House in Highland. Lord Frontain is a distant cousin of Master Carver Gordan Carthers.”
Another visitor was Weldon Stanley. He had no more than entered Jah’Moke’s suite than he was hit with a double armful of Java. “Weldon!” she shouted in his ear, hugging him tightly, and being hugged in return. “What are you doing here? I thought your family was in Greencastle?”
“They are. Well, most of ‘em.” He grinned and glanced over his shoulder to where Cindy Corinsville was standing, grinning like an idiot.
Java shrieked, “Cindy!” making Weldon wince and drop her. Java’s feet were moving as soon as she hit the floor, and she ran into Cindy with no less force than she had hit Weldon. “What are you doing here?”
“Taking an extended honeymoon, Java,” Cindy replied softly, grinning as what she was saying registered with Java.
Java’s mouth dropped open, then closed as her lips thinned and she punched Cindy in the shoulder. “You got married, and didn’t invite me?”
“Gently, Java.” Cindy cupped her hands over her belly. “It was sort of spur of the moment.”
Cindy’s actions registered with both Java and Jah’Moke at the same time. Both of their friends were led into the suite and shown to seats. “When are you due, Cindy?” Java asked softly.
“Spring, or there about. It’s only been two months. We’ve been married for four weeks.” Cindy said, grinning down at Java where she was sitting at her side. “We’ve been keeping company for quite a while. At least six months. We decided to make it permanent when Nadine confirmed that I was carrying.”
Jah’Moke and Weldon were sitting side by side, grinning at their ladies. “Java, the reason we’re here is that we would like a favor,” Weldon added from his seat.
“Anything. You know that,” Java instantly replied, looking back and forth between her friends.
Cindy picked up the conversation. “Java, I told you a long time ago that my parents run a small cobbler shop in Devonshire,” she said, smiling at Java. “What we would like to do is build a small shop down where Mark Henley is founding his town.”
“And Shair said you had to come to me? I don’t believe that,” Java said, grinning at both of them.
“Shair said we had better come tell you that we got married ourselves. That way you could yell at us in person. Besides, I need to borrow some money. I never did save very much.” Cindy spoke softly, slightly ashamed.
Java snorted with laughter. “Gods, it’s only money. I won’t let you borrow it though.” She paused to grin as both of her friends looked alarmed. “It’s a wedding present, seeing that you went and got married without me. So is the shop. Twenty-five gold should see you well settled.”
“Twenty-five?” Cindy whispered. “Java, I was only going to ask to borrow ten.”
Java laughed merrily. “You have a lot to buy. There are all the cobbler’s supplies, plus the normal household accessories. Like a nice big bed.” Java’s grin got everyone laughing.
* * *
Carlin Bolder arrived in Linkville six days after Robin. She had reluctantly taken a room in Java’s manor. When she explained why, Marta laughed until she had to sit down.
“Oh, Robin, she’s probably right. Besides, Dora will welcome someone else to eat her delicious creations.” She spread her hands across her belly. “I have to watch what I eat these days, or I’m likely to be watching it out here.” She held her hands as far out in front of her belly as her arms would go.
Robin laughed and accepted a room on the far end of the house from Marta’s. For the same reasons Robin wasn’t staying with her parents.
Carlin asked for Robin in town, and was directed up to the manor. When he arrived, he was stunned speechless. Robin had been summoned and met him at front. “Carlin, it is good to see you again,” she said as he sat his horse. The stunned expression on his face made her giggle. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
“Robin, this is—Our mansion isn’t even half the size of this place.”
Robin laughed again and went out to greet him. “Well, it was built for the county lord, so it has to be impressive.” When he finally dismounted, she moved close and hugged him. He was so tall that her head didn’t even touch his chin, and her arms barely made it around his chest. Then he kissed her and nothing else mattered.
“Welcome to Linkville, Carlin,” she murmured when they finally came up for air.
“I’m so glad to see you again, Robin,” he murmured back.
“We have a room in the north end of the top floor. And it has a private bath.”
Carlin chuckled. “Is that a hint that I need a bath?”
Robin shook her head. “No. It’s a hint that I’m going to join you.”
Carlin looked down at her and said, “Oh, really?”
Robin sighed and leaned her head against him. “Really.”
* * *
Carlin quickly became involved in Robin’s projects. He was well-educated, and that education had included a heavy dose of civil engineering. The dam for the grist mill was where he had the most input.
“We had a similar problem when I was a student,” he said as he studied the map of the river. “I notice that you’ve chosen a narrow place, but I’d like to suggest here,” he pointed to the map. “There is a ridge of stone that runs under the river along this line. That would give the dam a much better footing. And the notations say the river is shallow here. It may actually take more stoned to dam it, but it will be easier to place.”
Robin and Carlin took his suggestion to Marta after lunch. She listened to Carlin’s suggestion and his reasoning without saying anything. Finally, she nodded. “It sounds like you have a good idea, Carlin. Would you be willing to act as foreman over the crew?”
Carlin was openly startl
ed by the request, but he nodded. “Yes, Lady Freeholm.”
“Good. I have already hired stone masons to build the structures. Robin,” she said and waited until Robin was looking at her, “why don’t take that enclosed trader’s wagon to the site and use it as an office.”
“Yes, sir,” Robin automatically answered.
Marta nodded. “Good. You two are loud.” Then she grinned as Robin and Carlin started laughing.
CHAPTER 11: REFUGEES
Don’t expect your enemies to just go away. They will keep coming back until you kill them.
Master Scholar Prince Stavin Zel’Andral, “The Short Warrior’s Guide”
A RAGGED HANDFUL OF MEN AND women from the duchy of Lakeland straggled across Lender’s Dale’s northern border, fleeing the reports of an attack by Emperor Frander’s army. The Lender’s Dale Guards reacted to the news with grim efficiency.
Refugees were directed into safe areas just south of the border, and the able-bodied men and women were pressed into service to reinforce the border guards. Messengers were sent on the fastest horses available to Morrisdale to spread the warning.
General Marston received the warning and reported to Duchess Samantha. “My Lady Duchess, Frander has attacked Lakeland. We are already receiving refugees across our northern border. Captain Whitehall has been pressing the sturdier men and women into service temporarily to reinforce her Guards.”
Duchess Samantha stood and nodded. “General Marston, begin reinforcing the Lakeland border at once. We also need messengers on fast horses headed to Greensboro and Whitehall. Arten and Kaster need to be warned.”
Merrit nodded. “As you command, Duchess. Well, at least now we know why he tried to take Java. As I remember, Duke Arten’s mother was from Lakeland.”
“Yes, I think she was.” Turning to Panit, she smiled softly. “Do you want to send any messages to your father, Pan?”
“Just one.” Panit grinned. Walking forward, he took Sam in his arms. “Do you think Java would be mad if we rushed our wedding before hers?”
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