With a yell, Dentin raised his sword and lunged. Despite the sword tip still being feet away from him, Orwin jumped backwards. Rolendis fell forward, whimpering. I expected Orwin to dive to recover his human shield. Instead he clutched his throat and crumpled to the floor, Tomas’ knife stuck in his chest.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sleet whipped at my helmet, each ping echoing strangely in my ears. Around me, the outer bailey filled with armed men, returning servants, and former residents who had fled Jorndar’s coup. The baker yelled at his assistants as they guided an overloaded cart toward the kitchens. A commander called out assignments to three ranks of armed guards bearing Irvaine’s crest and colors.
Their neat tunics and clean armor contrasted sharply with Tomas’ and my own appearance. Blood from Orwin and others stained his knees and tunic. Mud crusted his leggings, boots, and sleeves. I knew I didn’t look any better, more likely worse. The commander kept glancing our way as though he wanted to come over and reprimand me for my sloppy kit.
I stepped closer to Tomas and Antano.
I didn’t attempt to follow Irvaine’s list of questions and orders as he and Antano bounced words back and forth. I felt like a drowned rat. My teeth kept chattering if I didn’t clamp them closed. I welcomed the cold, though. It distracted me from the horrible dread coiled in my stomach, like a cobra ready to strike if I looked its way. Still, I couldn’t ignore it forever. Eventually I was going to have to face the fact I was going to be tried for treason. A shiver gripped my spine. I shied away from the inevitable and focused on Tomas’ voice.
“…Search the city for any of Jorndar’s men. Twenty are still missing.” Tomas bit his blue-tinged lips as he closed his eyes as though to gather his thoughts. Antano’s brows tightened in concern. “I am forgetting something.” He rubbed his face with his gloved hand.
“What are you two still doing here?” Dentin strode across the bailey from the direction of the armory. “The king is going to want a report. You both need to change.”
My stomach growled. “And eat.”
Tomas signaled for a horse before turning back to Dentin. “Are you returning to the camp?”
“I have a few people I need to speak to, but I will be there. Get your wife out of here. She looks frozen through.”
The horse arrived and we rode through the waking town. Our passing was noted by wary eyes from child to blacksmith, a sad indication of how life for the residents had been over the past weeks. We slowed as we approached the town gate. The guard came out from the shadow of the gatehouse to greet us. Suspicion tightened his gaze and mouth.
Tomas drew us to a halt at a respectful distance.
“Where do you think you might be going in such a hurry?” He circled our horse as though evaluating it for sale.
“The camp beyond the wall. I am returning from duty.”
The man peered up at Tomas’ face. ”Commanding officer?”
“None, I am Lord Irvaine.”
The man laughed.
I couldn’t blame him. Tomas looked worse than the time I first met him. Plain armor, no livery, no insigna of rank, and looking worse for wear, he could have been anyone, friend or foe.
“Hold the reins.” He wound the leads through my frozen fingers. Unbuckling the chin strap, he pulled his helmet from his head, tucked it under one arm and began peeling back his mail hood. Digging around his neck, he produced a thick chain. Pulling it forth, he caught the end and pulled it over his head. “My signet ring,” he said as he dangled the heavy ring on the end before the man’s widening eyes.
“My apologies, my lord.” He bowed so quickly that I feared he would fall over. “We feared one of the madman’s brutes would escape. I was ordered to question everyone seeking to get through the gate.”
“Rightfully so.” Tomas tucked the chain and ring beneath his breastplate and proceeded to redon his helmet. He fastened the strap and nodded to the gatekeeper. “Just bring a companion out when you inspect. Any fugitives will be desperate and more than willing to run you down in a run for the gate.”
The man grinned enthusiastically. “Just let them try.” Turning to face the gate, he waved at the archer slits above. “All clear,” he yelled. He turned back to Tomas with a cocky shoulder shift. “My son, one of our best archers, is up there. He can shoot the hat off a minstrel at twenty paces without disturbing his hair.”
Tomas looked up at the slits and nodded. “I believe it. Keep up the good work.” He urged the horse forward only to stop it again and swing it around. “What is your son’s name?”
“Pip Huntsey, my lord.”
“If you son is ever interested, there will be a place in my service for him.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
We left him behind, bowing us out with great flare.
“That was very generous, Tomas.”
“Nonsense. I meant it. If his father proves to be truthful as well as bold, we will use Pip.”
The horse ate up the distance between the gate and the edge of camp in silence. The sentry waved us past.
I didn’t recall ever feeling as grateful to see a tent before, but the sight of our tent sent tremors of exhaustion through my limbs. I wanted sleep so badly my eyes watered. Tomas lowered me down with one arm. My knees barely managed to support me. I started toward the tent door. Shedding gear from the door to the bed, I was about to sink into the offered softness, when Tomas came through the canvas flaps.
“Don’t! I ordered a bath for you. It should be here within a half hour.”
I suddenly wanted to cry. My knees shook. I didn’t fight them. Sitting unceremoniously on the ground, I pulled my helmet from my head and let loose a sob.
“Brielle?” Tomas knelt before of me. “Beloved, what is wrong?”
His large hands caught my head in the familiar hold. His fingers laced through my sweaty, tangled mess of hair, thumbs brushing at my tears. I only released more to replace them. I couldn’t stop them despite my closed eyes.
“I am going to hang.”
“What?”
He tilted my head up so we were face to face, but I couldn’t open my eyes. My heart ached so that it hurt to breathe. I feared what I would see in his eyes when I said what I must.
“You killed Orwin before he could clear me.” Suddenly more afraid of not knowing than knowing, I opened my eyes.
Blackness. I forgot how limitless and strange his eyes were. I couldn’t interpret the swirling change in their depths.
“I won’t let them kill you, Brielle.”
“But you won’t be able to stop them.” I shoved his hands from my face and turned away. “Don’t you understand? In the king’s eyes I am a traitor.”
“You aren’t.”
I rounded on him. Was he being deliberately obtuse? “Orwin’s toady said I was and only Orwin’s word that he was the only architect was going to free me. You killed him!” I screamed my frustration at him.
His face remained as frozen and expressionless as the first time we met. I couldn’t even read emotion in his opaque gaze. The slump of his shoulders and the dead weight of his arms hanging at his sides only spoke of exhaustion. I could discern nothing more.
“I killed him, Brielle, because he was going to kill Rolendis.”
“You valued Rolendis’ life higher than mine?” I stared at him. I felt as though a knife had torn through my gut.
“No. I killed Orwin for the child Rolendis carries, the life guiltless of its parents’ sins. I did it for that child and because we already had enough. Mendal will not convict you of treason.”
“Why? What has changed? Why did we go through this charade of me going with you on the assault if Mendal won’t convict me of treason?”
“Because I won’t let him. The king is summoning us now. There are still a few pieces that need to be put in place. You have to trust me, Brielle.” He caught my hand, folding it over his and pulling it up to his mouth. Hovering a breath from my fingers,
he locked gazes with me. “I love you. I will not let anyone take you from me.” He pressed his lips to my skin.
My heart raced, flooding my limbs with liquid heat. His words brought tears to my eyes. I already knew he cared for me. His actions demonstrated his affection from the moment we spoke our vows. Despite my lack of doubt, hearing those precious three words from his mouth made my heart swell.
Even as I came willingly into his arms when he tugged me closer, a part of my brain still protested that he wasn’t invincible. He was only a mortal man.
“I love you.” I traced the curve of his jaw with my fingers. “And trust you. I am not sure I trust Mendal.”
“You and me both.”He caressed my knuckles with his thumb. “That is why Dentin is following up leads to the real culprits. I obeyed his order to take you with me because it strengthens our case.”
“It does?” Between exhaustion and the warmth of his touch, I grasped at my thoughts. They slipped beyond my reach.
The bath water arrived and the moment was gone. We bathed and fell into bed. He slept heavily, snoring. I rested uneasily, terrorized by worries and phantasms that twitched me awake only to greet me when I fell asleep again. After what seemed like eternity, Dentin arrived to deliver the summons to appear before the court.
Tomas rolled to his feet, alert and ready for a fight. I crawled reluctantly from the bed, dragging the covers half off with me. I ached worse than when I laid down. Only Dentin’s presence prompted me to keep moving despite the siren’s call of sleep.
“Is all ready?” Tomas asked as he pulled on his fur-lined tunic.
“As it can be.” Dentin rested his hand on the hilt of the sword strapped to his hip.
“That bad?” Tomas reached for his sword belt.
I frowned as I glanced between them. “What are you two talking about?”
Dentin ignored me. His naturally neutral expression gave nothing away. However, the coldly efficient way he handed Tomas a sheathed throwing knife set my instincts afire. Suddenly completely awake and alert, I grabbed Tomas’ arm. “What are you two planning?”
Tomas avoided my gaze. “Finish dressing, Brielle. It will all become clear.”
“No.”
Tomas stopped in the middle of reaching for his boots. Straightening, he drew in a deep breath.
Dentin rested a hand on my shoulder. “Brielle–“
“No, Dentin, I will handle it. Go.”
The men exchanged a look. Dentin swung around, strode to the table, deliberately placed a wrapped bundle on the top, and strode out the door.
“Brielle.” The weary tone in Tomas’ voice brought my focus to him.
Looking up into his familiar face, I realized how much I wanted him to be right and how much I believed he wasn’t.
“Promise me you won’t do something foolish,” I pled. “I am not worth it.”
The right corner of his mouth quirked.
My hand rose of its own accord to touch the twitch.
He kissed the tips of my fingers. “Darling, I have survived this long by taking risks. Calculated choices are part of life. Marrying you was a risk. Accepting the title brought benefits, duty, and danger. Every time I ride into battle, I know there is a chance I will not return home whole. Unlike then, this is a sure bet. And even if it doesn’t work, I do not regret my choice. You, my love, are worth every risk.”
I was torn between joy and fear. The love in his eyes invited me to believe, hope. My heart wanted to step out on faith that it would work out. However, my head kept listing all the reasons I shouldn’t and all the possible ways this could go wrong. The worst being that he died.
Please, Kurios, show me what to do.
He was my husband. I trusted him more than I trusted anyone, except perhaps Loren. All we had experienced together in the past month of marriage proved him a skilled soldier, great leader, and a wise man. Above all he had been a friend who had yet to lead me wrong.
“Go get dressed, love. We need to leave.” He brushed my hair back from my face.
I obeyed. Twisting my hair into an acceptable form, I tried to keep my worries at bay by counting all the ways Kurios had delivered me in the past. He wouldn’t fail me now.
Please keep us safe, I prayed.
As I adjusted the most ornate girdle about the waist of a deep navy blue tunic, I turned to find Tomas bent over Dentin’s parcel of paper. His dark brows bunched over his nose, but when he finally finished reading, he nodded as though satisfied.
“Presentable enough?” I rotated for him.
“Radiant. No one would believe you were playing a warrior only a few hours ago. Come.” He held out his hand to me while tucking away the packet beneath his overtunic with his other hand. I grabbed my lined cloak and drew the hood up over my hair. We plunged out into the noontime sun.
Melting sleet crunched beneath our feet the whole way to Mendal’s camp.
As we passed through our camp, men appeared and fell in behind us. Antano, Eirianware, Yerns, Polaner, Kuylan, and Muirayven the healer were among the faces I identified when I glanced back. By the time we reached the edge of camp and crossed the narrow gap between camps to enter the king’s camp, we were about thirty men strong. The cacophony of crunching echoed along the spaces between the tents.
Sentries ran after us before we reached the center of camp.
“My lord, you can’t march into Mendal’s presence as an army,” the first man protested, his panic evident in his flailing hands.
“The king summoned my wife and me to a trial. These are merely witnesses I wish to call.” Tomas’ calm demeanor and even tones did nothing to soothe the man’s agitation.
“But, my lord.”
Dentin appeared at the sentry’s side, tucking away something into the front of his jerkin. “I vouch for their peaceable motives, Ret.”
The man sputtered for a moment. “Very well, Lord Dentin.”
He bowed and trotted back the way he came as fast as he could. Perhaps he hoped if he put enough distance between him and us, he wouldn’t be blamed should Dentin prove to be lying. The others disbursed as well.
“You are late.” Tomas cupped my elbow and propelled me forward again.
Dentin fell in step with us on my other side. “Jorndar was more trouble than I expected.”
“You got what we needed, right?”
King Mendal’s personal guards blocked our way into the great open space at the center of camp. Similar to the one his camp formed outside of Wisenvale, it was large enough for a small army. A single tree grew on a small rise at one end. Behind it, so that the skeleton branches canopied the opening, the king’s pavilion staked a large portion of the field. In any other season it would have been almost picturesque. However, in my current state of mind, I thought it looked as though the tree were the king, grasping for the sky as well as his domain on earth.
Dentin spoke quietly with the captain of the guard. He returned to our side.
“The three of us may approach the tent, but the rest must stay here.” Silencing the murmurs of dissent among our escort with a glare, Dentin offered me his arm. “My lady?”
I glanced at Tomas. As much as I trusted Dentin, I didn’t want to walk into the lion’s den without Tomas’ support.
“I will be right behind you,” Tomas assured me as he laid my hand on Dentin’s sleeve.
Dentin stepped forward and the personal guards parted for us. He led me out into the center of the square to a circle marked in the dirt. He guided me to the center of the circle and positioned me to face the entrance of the king’s tent.
“Say nothing unless required and follow Tomas’ and my lead.”
I glanced at him, but he was staring straight ahead, his face a mask of indifference. Striding a short ways away, he turned to face the entrance of the pavilion as well.
I stood alone. Lifting my chin, I straightened my back and pulled back my shoulders.
“Well done.” Tomas’ voice made me jump. I began to turn, but he stop
ped me. “Face forward. Here he comes.”
The canvas rolled up and the court poured out. The few women among the men looked very uncomfortable despite their fur lined capes and headdresses. Their gaudy robes and stiff dresses were woefully out of place among the austere surroundings of the camp. The men didn’t appear much better. I recognized a few of their faces from my last summons outside of Wisenvale.
Finally the king emerged, warmly dressed and obviously more comfortable in his attire than his court was in theirs. He still leaned on a cane. Two pages followed him carrying a chair. He whipped his cane out to point at where he wanted the chair to go. The lads hurried to comply and then retreated. A third appeared with a footstool as the king eased down onto the cushioned seat.
My knees ached as I watched him settle on the very comfortable looking pillows. A few of the courtiers’ expressions slipped into envy as well.
“Begin the proceedings.” Mendal waved to Lord Dentin. But then he spotted Tomas standing behind me. “Lord Irvaine, please join your peers.” His rings flashed in the meager sunlight as he gestured toward the courtiers surrounding him.
“I humbly refuse, your majesty.”
“What?” Mendal’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward to peer at Tomas.
“I wish to stand with my wife.”
“She is accused of treason!”
“She is innocent and my wife. I stand with her.”
Mendal’s face stilled except for his intent gaze snapping from me to Tomas and back. Then his jaw tightened. “I am your king.”
“You are.” Tomas’ voice carried firm and clear, but the clipped words hinted at the tension underneath. “I am at your mercy.”
Mendal’s eyes glinted and for a moment I feared he would press the issue further. But he didn’t. With obvious effort, he eased back in his chair. “I accept your argument. A husband should stand with his wife if he chooses.” Lifting a finger, he signaled Dentin.
“As ordered by our sovereign king, I have investigated the accusations against Brielle Dyrease, Countess of Irvaine and Wisenvale.”
Duty: a novel of Rhynan Page 24
