One Land, One Duke

by Emerson, Ru

  "This isn't a democracy, Chris,” Jennifer said.

  "Tell me it isn't."

  "Keep that in mind, or you're going to get yourself in hot water."

  "Yeah. Eddie'll have to keep me on a short leash in Podhru, I guess.” Chris sighed. “Getting in might be a problem, though, you know? I can probably slide by with Eddie, if we're careful and I flatten my hair down, get back into those gruesome gray britches I had to buy in Bez."

  "And keep your mouth shut,” Edrith put in genially. Chris sighed again. “Just reminding you."

  "Jen, you can pass just like you are, and Dahven looks all right—well, not all right, but not like himself, which is all we need. Aletto, though—"

  "The walls aren't any tighter than Sikkre's,” Dahven said. “It won't be hard to get him in after dark, particularly if there's a place for him to hide."

  "Supposed to be,” Edrith said. “Gyrdan is meeting us—Lord Evany's, isn't it?"

  Dahven considered this, finally nodded. “It seems a lifetime ago and I didn't give any of it much thought then. Now—I never met this Evany, I hope Gyr chose well."

  "Aletto likes him,” Chris put in. “Not that he's seen the guy in years, and I'm not totally sure he can pick people."

  Dahven smiled. “I should resent that, but I take your point. He still operates on old memories and too much trust.” The smile slipped. “But who'd have thought, that night in the Purple Fingers, how badly things would turn out?"

  "Don't,” Jennifer said firmly. She held the water cup out so Edrith could take it, caught hold of Dahven's hand with her freed fingers. “We've still come out ahead. Not as ahead as I'd have liked this time,” she added as the three stared at her. “But we're all alive, three of them are dead. And we apparently convinced the Emperor's guard it was mistaken identity."

  "Yeah,” Chris said. “Maybe even got them wondering who's hiring thugs to attack outlanders who might be traveling with some guy named Aletto? Could that hurt?"

  "Don't know,” Jennifer said. She let her eyes close. “I think after all that, though, I'm going to take a nap. I've earned it."

  "Earned,” Chris said. He laughed suddenly; Jennifer looked at him as he got to his feet and dug inside his shirt. “Reminded me; lookit. When those guys left? They left this behind—it's part of the money one of those thugs had on him, it's to repay you for the healer to fix your arm, and for the rooms here until you're well enough to leave. If I hadn't heard that snotty-voiced guy talking to Caro about it, honestly, I'd never have believed it.” He flipped the bag up and caught it; it jingled. “This is half. Mom was trying to argue with Caro about it, how she ought to take it all because of the damage and the hassle. You know how mom is. She lost, like she usually does, though. Caro took half a dozen ceris and jammed this down my shirt.” He shrugged. “What could I do? I said thanks, like you're supposed to, she calmed down—and I guess that's it.” Edrith tugged at his arm and got him moving toward the door. “Oh, and no one's really going to send for that old jerk that did Ernie's leg, so you don't have to worry about that, all right?"

  "They'd better not,” Jennifer warned him as he closed the door behind them. She heard Edrith's voice but couldn't make out the words; Chris laughed and she heard them running down the hall. “I can't stand it,” she murmured. “All that energy, it's indecent.” She turned her head, tugged at Dahven's shirt and kissed the corner of his mouth. “So is falling asleep on you but I don't think I have much choice."

  He pressed the scarf back from her forehead. “Sleep. We'll have time."

  "We'd better,” she whispered. She wasn't certain he heard that. He settled down next to her, fingers twined in hers. His breathing slowed almost at once. She found it comforting, listening to him, feeling the slow, deep pulse where his hand rested against her throat. She shifted cautiously, easing her left arm against her side, wondered briefly if she could get the cloth off it. It was loose, lightweight and dry; still too much of a weight. Leave it, she decided finally. It'll keep the afternoon breeze off the thing, that might feel worse. They might come back, too— But that was nothing to think about right now. Think about something nice, she ordered herself. Something pleasant. She smiled, settled her face against Dahven's. Or someone.

  * * * *

  It was two days before she could stand on her own, another before she managed to make it down the back stairs to Caro Ellaway's sitting room. Once there, she sank gratefully into the large chair piled with cushions Caro had set up for her. Dahven got her settled before he went in search of Aletto and Jennifer suddenly realized she'd seen neither the nera-Duke nor his sister since the attack. Robyn wasn't anywhere in sight either, though she'd been in and out of the room Jennifer and Dahven had taken by default—with food and water, with gossip Caro picked up in the common room and passed on.

  She felt weak, half sick from the effort it had taken to get herself down the flight of stairs. Nervous. God, if I've totally lost my nerve, she thought. I can't. Even if the Emperor stepped in right now, I can't believe it would mean the end of the danger to Aletto. Or to Dahven. But just now, she couldn't imagine herself picking up a weapon and using it on anyone, not even to defend herself. She managed a smile for Caro, who brought her toast and a cup of herb tea. “I'm so sorry for all the trouble,” she began. The Englishwoman shook her head.

  "How were you to know someone would actually try to murder you under my roof?"

  "I should have—"

  "Nonsense,” the other woman said warmly. “Drink your tea while it's still hot, get some of that bread down you. Your young man looks much better,” she added. It was a clear change of subject. Jennifer let the matter drop, obediently sipped tea. “He looked dreadful that night—mostly worry for you, I daresay."

  "He was ill in Bez,” Jennifer admitted.

  "I don't doubt that. Well, he's spent enough of his time with you that he's caught up on sleep, that'll help.” She glanced out toward the horse barn. “Your sister's out there, seeing to the horses, she and Chris took young Ernie with them."

  "He's not walking on that leg—” Jennifer began. She shook her head then. “Never mind. I forget this isn't home, he'd be off it for months there."

  "I still forget,” Caro said. “Now and again. Gives me a jolt; you'd think all these years would be enough for me to fully adjust. The other boy—he's a little older than that, though, isn't he? He and the Wielder are staying upstairs, in the private room. Out of sight. In case, you know."

  "I know.” Jennifer set the cup aside, nibbled at a piece of toast. It was cold and dry, and she suffered a momentary pang: hot toast, smeared with melted butter and jam. “How is he taking the delay, or have you talked to him?"

  "A little. He's not saying much, neither of them is. He's not dealing at all well with your injury."

  Jennifer sighed. “I'd better talk to him. Maybe we can go on in another day or so—"

  "Oh,” Caro said as she refilled Jennifer's cup and set a small pot of honey next to it, “it's not the delay. Hard as your young man's had it, you being cut up like that, the other boy's taking it worse."

  * * * *

  When Dahven came back, Jennifer edged herself out of the chair and to her feet unaided, though she scattered cushions all around. She needed both hands on the table to hold herself steady, at least until she'd taken several deep breaths. “No, don't,” she said as he came forward. “Let me, I have to know how far off I still am, don't I?” She turned to the innkeep, who was also hovering anxiously, and managed to balance on one hand, so she could hold out the other. “Caro, I'll be back down for dinner—I think I will,” she qualified.

  "At least you're honest,” the woman said doubtfully. “You have enough brain to know not to push, I won't fuss at you."

  "Good. All right, Dahven,” she added, and pivoted carefully. “Take me back up.” Once they were outside, she drew him to a halt against the warm wall, let her head fall back and her eyes close. “The sun feels absolutely wonderful. Maybe I'll come sit out here tomor
row morning, before it gets too hot. Right now I'd better get flat again.” She was quiet while they climbed the stairs, but once they reached the repaired door to the private room she stopped. “I'd like to talk to Aletto."

  "I'll bring him, once you're settled."

  "No. I'm all right, and this will be better anyway.” Dahven gave her a sidelong look, but he didn't argue for once, merely tapped at the door and waited for the sound of the bolt being drawn. Lialla stared at them expressionlessly, stepped back from the door and closed it behind them.

  Aletto sat on the room's only chair—a long bench that had been fastened to the wall under the window. He glanced at his visitors, turned back to stare out the window. Jennifer caught hold of the footboard of the nearest bed, eased away from Dahven's arm and let herself down. There was a long, not particularly comfortable silence. “Are you all right?” Aletto asked finally. He wouldn't look at her.

  "I'm better,” Jennifer said honestly. “I'll be fine, it's just taking longer than I'd have thought. I'm sorry to have delayed you; if that's worrying you, you should go on perhaps. Dahven can—"

  "Gods of my fathers,” Aletto said softly. He slammed one fist against the windowledge and spun around. “You could have died!” Lialla, a shadow in the corner, made a faint, protesting little sound, and her brother shook his head. “I'm sorry, Li; it's true, she could have died before you got to her. I—” He turned back to the window and drove both hands through his hair, let his face down into them. “When we talked that night in Duke's Fort, Li, remember? It seemed so simple, didn't it? For the first time in a long time I could see everything clearly. I should have made you go, I should never have listened when you persuaded me to come with you."

  "Where would I have gone without you?” Lialla replied. Her voice was dry and tremulous, as though she'd been crying. “To Shesseran? To the Thukar? Aletto, Jadek would have killed you if I'd gone!"

  "That was only my life,” Aletto mumbled.

  "Please,” Jennifer said quietly. “Don't, either of you. I'm not up to this and you're just making yourselves miserable. Aletto, damnit, it isn't your fault this happened.” She held out her left arm. Aletto glanced at it, at the long, darkly red line that ran up from her wrist and vanished under the neatly mended tee-shirt sleeve. He shuddered, let his eyes close. “Look, I think I can follow the argument, I've heard enough variations on it over the years. You have the right to run your own life but not to jeopardize anyone else's, isn't that it? Aletto, you're a Duke's son. Your father made decisions probably every day of his life that at least altered other peoples’ lives. As for me—who knows? If Merrida hadn't dragged us here, maybe I'd have been run over in a crosswalk, or shot from a passing car, or murdered by someone breaking into my apartment. And no one made me stay with you, did they? It might not have been easy, but I could have walked away from Merrida back in Zelharri. I could have stayed in Sikkre, or in Bez. I gathered what I could of your side of the argument, Merrida's, Lialla's—even your uncle's, if you recall. I chose your side, Aletto.” He glanced at her, looked away again. “Don't tear yourself apart like this, I knew the risks. I chose to accept them.” Silence. Jennifer sighed, pushed herself one-armed to her feet and held onto the footboard. “We all did. Look, if you're examining your motives, that's fine. Don't back out now, though, if you're only doing it because of anyone else. Personally, I feel like I have an interest in seeing your uncle out of Duke's Fort at this point. And I'm going to be a little irked if you take that away from me because you're afraid I'll get hurt."

  Silence again. Dahven came across and wrapped an arm around her waist, got her as far as the door when Aletto sat up and pounded a fist against the windowsill once more—not as hard, this time. “It's that,” he said finally. “It's more, too. They had archers out in the courtyard—"

  "I remember now. Robyn knows that, doesn't she?” He nodded. “What did she have to say?"

  "I don't know; we haven't talked about it."

  "Talk about it. She might surprise you. Don't sell her short, though, Aletto. Birdy's tougher than she looks, sometimes. And she feels pretty strongly about seeing you back where you belong."

  "I know,” he whispered.

  "Well, then. They shifted the odds, turned violent on us when we weren't ready. Next time, we will be.” God, she thought in sudden despair, if he knew how I really felt, right now. “And think about this: The city guard knows that someone's paying and arming men in an attempt to kill you."

  "Jadek wouldn't be stupid enough to let something like that be traced back to him,” Lialla said harshly.

  "No? He's getting frustrated, and when people get like that, they sometimes make dumb mistakes. But the guards I talked to aren't dumb; even if they can't get names and information out of the prisoners they took back with them, they're going to be able to add things up.” Silence. Jennifer let Dahven prop her against the wall while he got the door open; she concentrated on keeping her knees from buckling until he could get a supporting arm around her again. “Don't sit in here feeling guilty, or feeling sorry for yourself,” she said finally. “I'm responsible for myself; that's whether I'm helping you or on my own somewhere. We all are; don't insult our intelligence by presuming anything else. Why don't you do something worthwhile instead? Figure out how to let young Enardi down once we get into Podhru, so he doesn't feel completely useless when we leave him behind."

  "If we go on,” Aletto said, but he didn't sound as ghastly as he had when she first came into the room.

  Lialla followed them into the hall, one hand holding the door closed behind her. Jennifer managed a wan smile. “I never got a chance to thank you for what you did—"

  "It wasn't enough, though, was it? I—felt you Wielding, later."

  "It wasn't complete. It was enough, you dealt with the worst of it. Without that, I really might have bled to death; I certainly wouldn't have been able to finish what you started."

  "I should have—” Lialla turned on her heel and went back into the room, closing the door behind her. The bolt slid across a moment later.

  Dahven got her across the hallway and into the second room. The last few steps to the bed seemed to take forever; Jennifer sat hard, sagged over her knees. “That wasn't fun,” she managed finally. “And I was afraid she'd know I'd had to do a patch job on her work, that she'd take it like that."

  "It's not your problem,” Dahven said indignantly.

  "No. Not entirely.” She sighed and eased down onto her back, let Dahven smooth the comfort over her knees. “All the same, I've done a lot to get that woman's confidence up, and I hate to think I destroyed all that good work overnight.” She flexed her fingers. “God. I think it's finally quit hurting when I do that."

  "If it hurts, don't do it,” he began.

  Jennifer laughed faintly. “And you a swordsman! You follow your own advice, all the time, right?"

  He bent down to touch her cheek. “I'm reminded by that; I promised Chris an exchange of lessons."

  "Lord,” Jennifer said devoutly. “He'll cut himself, he always does."

  "He won't. He doesn't get anything sharp to swing at me until he learns the basic moves. Here, I've set the water where you can reach it. Want me to pour some for you?” She nodded. “I'll come back to see if you still feel like going down for evening meal."

  "I will,” she said.

  He laughed. “You sound it."

  "I will. Go, before Chris comes in here and starts saying smart things."

  11

  The third night after the attack, Jennifer came down for dinner with everyone else. Caro fussed over her good-naturedly on her way through to the common room with a pot of stewed chicken, sent Colin back to feed all of them. Aletto finished his in record time, ignored the cup of wine at his elbow, and cleared his throat. “I want to settle things, now, tonight.” Lialla set her cup aside and leaned past Chris to look at him anxiously. Aletto ignored her. Robyn took hold of his fingers and he squeezed hers before releasing them. There was a rather uncom
fortable silence. Aletto fetched a sigh. “About going on. After this last attack, I don't feel I have the right to simply assume anyone goes with me.” He looked around the room, then fixed his eyes on the table in front of him. “In all honesty, at this moment, I can't be certain I have the courage to continue."

  "You can't just quit,” Lialla urged him in a low, desperate voice. “You can't! Do you think it would make any difference to our uncle? After all this time?” Silence. Aletto continued to gaze at the table before him. Lialla leaped to her feet and came around to lay a hand on his arm. “Aletto, what would you do? Where would you go?"

  He shrugged, spread his hands. “I don't know. If I went far enough—"

  "Where? Outside Rhadaz? He can't let you live anywhere within her borders, you know that!"

  "Your sister's right,” Jennifer said.

  "I don't know that I intend to give in,” Aletto said softly.

  "You can't stop him alone,” Robyn said. She sounded near tears. Aletto shook his head.

  "Perhaps I can. Perhaps if I spoke with him, face to face. Perhaps he would see reason—"

  "You don't believe that,” Lialla protested faintly. “He'd never hear you. He'd simply lock you away, or kill you, you know that!"

  "I don't. He's lost face and he resents that. But that doesn't necessarily mean there's no way but confrontation, or violence, to win, does it? Even so, that's only my life, if I'm wrong, or if he takes me. Now—” He looked around the room again. “We had luck, the other night. Even so, those men were dockside thugs, the sort who'd murder anyone—all of us—without compunction.” Aletto sighed heavily. “Don't you understand what I'm trying to say? It was hard enough, accepting that you'd come with me, Lialla, knowing that any violence our uncle aimed at me might take you also."

  Lialla snorted. “It was my decision, my choice! Do you forget what he did—?"