When she turned to announce that the meal was ready, she observed the captain gazing into space, her expression decidedly sad. She was worried about King Zachary, Anna guessed. She had been around the Riders long enough to know that the captain and king were very close.
“Captain?” she said quietly.
Captain Mapstone sat up in her chair and blinked at Anna as if startled to find her there.
“I’ve brought something for you to eat.” Anna lifted the lid off chicken soup and uncovered freshly baked meat rolls. Steam plumed from the food.
The captain smiled. “That smells good. Thank you, Anna. Is it midday already?”
“About an hour past,” Anna replied.
“I am always losing track of time.”
The captain rose to take in the food and Anna noticed she was not using her sling. It hung slack across her shoulder. Anna did not want to have to say something. She didn’t want to annoy or anger the captain, but Mara had instructed her to say something. She cleared her throat.
“Yes?” The captain held a spoonful of soup before her lips, and gave Anna a sideways glance.
Anna quailed, at least inwardly, and said, “Chief Rider Mara asked me to remind you to use your sling, or . . .”
The captain crooked an eyebrow. “Or?”
Anna held herself steady under the regard of those sharp hazel eyes. “Or else Master Mender Vanlynn will have her hide.”
The captain’s mouth twitched. Was she trying not to laugh? She set the spoon back in the bowl, the soup untasted, and straightened. “Be easy, Anna. You have done your duty by Mara.” She did not put her arm in her sling. “All is healed.”
Anna bit her lip. She did not want Mara angry with her, or for Master Mender Vanlynn to be angry with Mara. She cleared her throat again.
“Yes, Anna?”
“It—it would be best if you rested your shoulder properly.”
The captain’s mouth twitched again, but this time she obeyed. “Very well, but my shoulder is fine. Really.”
Anna, not sure what to say, just stood there.
“Are you returning to the castle?” the captain asked. “I have some papers that need to go to—”
A pounding came upon the door, which made them both jump.
“Come,” the captain called.
A Green Foot runner poked her head in. “Captain, Counselor Tallman requests your presence in the queen’s apartments immediately.”
“Did he say why?”
“No, ma’am, but he’s also summoning Master Mender Vanlynn.”
“Oh, no,” the captain murmured.
Anna helped her with her coat.
“Come along,” the captain said. “I don’t know what this is about, and Mistress Evans might need all the royal household staff at hand.”
Anna rushed out the door after her, the food she had brought left to grow cold on the captain’s table.
TWO STARS AND A CROWN
When they reached the west wing, Laren sent Anna to report to Mistress Evans, and continued up the stairs toward the royal apartments. She dreaded every step, dreaded what she would find out about the queen’s condition.
The corridor outside the royal apartments was clogged with Weapons, officers, administrators, and their aides. She spotted a few lord-governors, and representatives of absent lord-governors. Estora had been meeting with various parties concerning the upcoming campaign season, and Laren had been due to report later in the afternoon.
She scanned the crowd looking for a friendly face, and found an unexpected one. Seeing Dakrias Brown outside the records room took some adjustment, for it seemed out of context. He usually handed over meetings and the like to his deputy, and rarely left the records room if he could help it. She grabbed his arm, and he gazed at her in surprise.
“Captain?”
“What’s going on?”
“Oh, Captain, it is good to see you. I haven’t the faintest. We were waiting to be admitted to meet with the queen when there was a bit of an uproar. They admitted the chief mender and some of her assistants a little while ago.” He leaned forward and confided, “There are many rumors afoot.”
Laren could believe it, and she doubted any of them were good. Just then she heard someone call out to her.
“Captain Mapstone?” It was Fastion, peering over the heads of the crowd, searching for her. When he spotted her, he shouldered his way to her. “This way, please.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” she told Dakrias, and she fell in step behind Fastion as he cleared a path to the entry of Estora’s apartments. Angry muttering followed her, that she, a mere messenger captain, should be allowed access when more senior officers and nobles were not. It was a relief when she crossed the threshold and Fastion closed the door to the hubbub outside.
“The queen—how is she?” she asked him.
“The queen was having some pains. Master Vanlynn is in with her now.”
There were other Weapons in the entry area, some from the tombs whose names she did not know, and a trainee from the Forge in dark gray. Fastion led her to the queen’s sitting room, where others waited, a much smaller group that included Les Tallman and Castellan Javien. They spoke in hushed voices, and a wave of unease rolled over her as though she were reliving that terrible day almost a year ago in which they thought Zachary was dying from the assassin’s arrow. She’d been standing next door in his rooms back then, waiting for word of his death.
“Captain? Captain?” Les Tallman gently tapped her good shoulder, and she shook herself back to the present.
“Les,” she said, “do you know how the queen is?”
“I haven’t heard anything,” he said quietly. “I was sitting in on her fourth meeting of the day when suddenly she started having pains. I am sure Vanlynn will tell us when she knows more. I am guessing it is false labor, or . . .”
“Or?”
“Something worse. Sometimes twins want to come too early.”
Much too early, Laren thought fretfully. Like four months too early.
“And, of course, there can be other complications, as well,” he added.
He wasn’t helping to calm her worry. Recalling, however, that Ben was now stationed in the royal apartments day and night did help. Surely his true healing ability could avert disaster. After all, it was his use of his ability that had revealed the queen was carrying twins in the first place.
She seated herself near the fire, and again the sensation of reliving the day of the assassination attempt on Zachary crept over her as she overheard snippets of conversation about what was next, should the queen perish. She at least did not pick up on any conspiratorial plans to marry Estora off as she lay on her deathbed, but if anyone offered her tea, she was refusing.
They needed Zachary back. Where are you, Moonling? Come back to us. Your wife needs you, your people need you, and I need you.
Estora had been working hard to govern the realm and prepare it for what must come. She worked too hard, to Laren’s mind, hosting meetings all day in her bed chamber, and defying Vanlynn’s instructions to rest. Laren had known pregnant women to be tough, working in the fields as labor came on, walking miles to reach a midwife, hauling fish from the sea. But with their queen carrying royal progeny? No chances could be taken.
When Vanlynn emerged into the sitting room, those awaiting word crowded around her. Laren, stuck in the back, stood on her tiptoes to see over shoulders.
“The queen is fine,” Vanlynn announced. The sigh of relief that accompanied her announcement was unanimous. “It was false labor, and she is in need of rest and quiet. I want all of you to leave except Counselor Tallman, Castellan Javien, General Washburn, and . . . Captain Mapstone? Are you there?”
“Yes,” Laren called.
“The rest of you scat.”
Only Vanlynn could get away with s
uch irreverence. There were protests and grumbles from the others, but once the Weapons closed in to remove them, they quickly cleared out.
Vanlynn gave Laren a hard look up and down. “I am astonished,” she said.
“Astonished?”
“You’re using the sling as I instructed. I’d have expected you to have tossed it away days ago.”
“I did think about burning it, but my Riders look after me.” Even though Anna was not a Rider, Laren could not help but think of her as one.
Vanlynn looked them all over with an unhappy expression on her face. “You have not been taking care of your queen. She has been working much too hard and I am of a mind to forbid anyone at all into her chamber on business.”
General Washburn, who had replaced Harborough as the commander of all the military, said, “In the king’s absence, it is crucial she—”
“Enough,” Vanlynn said. “Your queen has many duties on behalf of the realm, and right now the most important is to carry and birth two healthy children. You should be ashamed of yourselves for letting these strategic planning meetings get out of hand, as if the strain of having her husband taken from her was not enough, not to mention the horror of having lived with that elemental creature who impersonated him. From now on, no more meetings, no more bringing problems to the queen.”
“But—” Javien began.
Vanlynn turned her frosty gaze on him. “No more. In fact, I am going to limit how much any of you can see her. The four of you will have to do the hard work. And that’s how it’s going to be.”
Laren applauded Vanlynn’s fierce stance. The queen and her children were too precious to the realm to endanger unnecessarily.
“Now, she does insist on seeing you lot,” Vanlynn continued, “but we’re keeping it short. You will not annoy her with the problems of the realm, understood?”
They allowed that they did, and Washburn even threw his shoulders back and clicked his heels. They filed after Vanlynn into Estora’s bed chamber. Laren spotted Ben immediately at Estora’s bedside, but he retreated to a corner to stay out of the way. Jaid set a tea tray on the bedside table, nodded to the newcomers, and exited the room. The Weapon, Ellen, stood discreetly in a corner, and Estora’s secretary, Ulf, attended nearby. The queen herself looked well-ensconced in her bed, none the worse for what must have been panic at the premature sensation of labor. In fact, she looked healthier than ever with her cheeks rosy, her face and breasts full.
“Good afternoon,” she said.
As one, Laren and her fellow counselors bowed.
“I am sure that Master Vanlynn has given you her commandments?” Estora said.
“Indeed, she has, my lady,” Les Tallman replied, “and I think that I speak for all of us when I say how relieved and pleased I am that you are well. Also, know that you may rest easy, for the realm’s business will be in competent hands.”
She reached for her teacup, took a sip, and peered at them over the rim. “I certainly expect so. Master Vanlynn will allow brief visits from each of you so that I may receive daily reports of what is happening in the realm. Ulf will schedule your appointments accordingly. Master Vanlynn says I have done enough today already, but there is one thing I must have done before you leave. Ulf? Please bring me the coffer.”
The secretary hastened to her side with a cherrywood coffer. She set her teacup aside and placed the box on her lap.
“Laren Mapstone, please approach,” Estora said.
Laren raised her eyebrows. Her fellow advisors looked as surprised as she felt. She obeyed and stepped up to Estora’s bedside.
“It occurs to me,” Estora said, “that this is long overdue for you have served this realm faithfully, and with courage and professionalism, for many years. I can only guess it was not done before because of tradition. The Green Riders have only ever had a captain to lead them since the founding days. It makes sense—the messenger service is a fairly small, independent unit. However, the times are growing more turbulent, and I wish to show my personal gratitude to you, as well as demonstrate the throne’s support for the leader of the Green Riders. I want you, Laren Mapstone, to be endowed with greater authority to accomplish your work.”
Was this, Laren wondered, what she thought it was? Another glance at her fellow advisors revealed Les Tallman grinning, Javien remaining as inscrutable as ever, and Washburn scowling. She returned her attention to Estora, who was lifting the lid of the coffer. Inside, seated on green velvet, was gold-braided cord. A lot of it. The kind that officers of high rank wore on their shoulders. Laren’s eyes went wide. She had to clamp her mouth shut.
“I have found your captain’s knot,” Estora said, “inadequate for the challenges ahead.”
Along with the copious gold cord were nested two sets of rank badges—two north stars and a crown each, designating the rank of colonel—to go on her shoulders. Ulf, the secretary, took the coffer from Estora and presented it to Laren with a bow.
She accepted it into trembling hands. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you generally works,” Les Tallman said.
“Yes, yes, thank you.”
“Congratulations, Colonel Mapstone,” Estora said. “I would have liked to have conferred your new rank in front of your Riders, but Master Vanlynn would not have it.”
Ben, from his place in the corner, grinned and saluted, and to Laren’s astonishment, so did Ellen.
“Colonel?” Washburn demanded. “There are no Rider colonels.”
“There seems to be one now,” Javien said in his characteristically droll manner.
“But one cannot skip ranks. You cannot—”
“General,” the queen said, “Colonel Mapstone has been doing the duty of a general longer than you have served in the king’s military. The Riders are the king’s own messengers, and the queen’s. We will promote Our Riders as We see fit. We do not have to explain Ourselves.”
“But—”
“General,” Les Tallman said mildly, “remember whom you address. The queen decrees as she wills.”
The general, chastened and cheeks glowing red, clicked his heels together and bowed to Estora. “Forgive me, madam.”
“We forgive you this one time, General. Do know that Colonel Mapstone is under royal command, answerable only to Our royal selves as the commanders of the messenger service have been since its founding. She will also now be Our eyes, ears, and voice concerning military matters and is to be fully accommodated. Is this clear?”
“Yes, madam. Perfectly.”
Laren was relieved. With Estora’s words, she would not be caught in the inevitable power struggles of the military hierarchy, at least not directly. While the Green Riders had always been answerable to the king, the high general also held an organizational command position of sorts over them, but mostly, the Riders, seen as lesser in the eyes of the rest of the military, were left to function autonomously. Now Estora had made it official, and Laren was proud of her for not being cowed by the intimidating general when some lesser gentlewoman might have been. She had assumed the crown quite naturally, and now she was, in essence, Laren’s direct commander in Zachary’s absence.
“In the short time we’ve been working together,” Les Tallman said, “I have found Laren Mapstone more than equal to the task of performing the duties required of a colonel. As our queen says, she has been doing the duty of a general for years.”
Laren thought her face must match Washburn’s for redness.
“The papers for your new commission,” Estora told her, “should arrive at your office by the end of the day.”
“Well, then, I think that is quite enough,” Vanlynn said. “I want everyone out.”
“I would like to speak privately with Colonel Mapstone for a few minutes,” Estora said.
Tallman, Javien, and Washburn all shook Laren’s hand and congratulated he
r on their way out, though she suspected there would be some blustering on Washburn’s part once he was out of the queen’s presence. Vanlynn, Ben, and Ellen were also commanded to leave.
“Have a seat, Colonel,” Estora said.
There was a chair near the bedside and Laren obeyed. “I admit, it’s going to take some getting used to.”
“Hearing yourself called ‘colonel’?”
Laren nodded. “It will take a while for others, like General Washburn, to accept it, as well.”
“It is a break with tradition. I noticed long ago that the messenger service was undervalued by the other services, and it has not helped the Riders that they have not had a voice in the upper echelons. You’ve always been by Zachary’s side as advisor, and that is a very important role, but now you have direct entry with other top officers.”
Laren had plenty of experience tangling with those at her own level, but the prospect of moving up was daunting.
“I believe,” Estora continued, “that if Zachary had thought of it, he’d have broken tradition and promoted you himself a long time ago. I’d have raised you even higher, but there would have been considerable backlash from the likes of General Washburn. So, colonel it is, at least for the time being.”
The time being? Laren had never expected to be around long enough to achieve rank as a colonel, much less a general, even had the messenger service traditionally had ranks above captain.
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