Fortune and Fate

by Sharon Shinn

  On this particular morning, Wen was dueling with Moss when Davey, her youngest recruit, came leaping over the fence rail. “Captain!” he called. “The serramarra’s got visitors. A big fancy coach.”

  Cursing, Wen signaled Moss to pull back, and then handed over her weapon. When would the stubborn girl learn that she had to let Wen know any time guests were due at the House? A footman was all well and good for announcing who was at the door, but only a soldier could fend off a visitor who had violence on his mind.

  “Orson!” Wen called, hopping the fence and detouring toward the barracks, where she’d left her uniform jacket. “Let’s go make a show of force up at the House!”

  Such was the speed at which the soldiers reacted that they were striding through the main doors just as Karryn came flying down the great stairway. Wen had a moment to assess the situation. That looked like Lindy Coverroe standing in the formal parlor just to the left of the foyer, and the short, fair-haired woman beside her must be her mother. They were dressed for traveling and showed no disposition to be seated, so Wen thought perhaps they had just paused here on their way somewhere else.

  Nonetheless, she gave Karryn a minatory glare and the serramarra mouthed, “I didn’t know they were coming,” as she hurried past the guards. Wen and Orson assumed impassive expressions and stationed themselves just outside the parlor, visible if anyone was looking but not, Wen hoped, obtrusive.

  “Karryn, Karryn, can you come with us?” Lindy squealed in her high-pitched voice. Wen couldn’t help it; she found Lindy vapid and tedious. Karryn had her faults, but Lindy didn’t have any virtues that Wen could see.

  “Go where?” Karryn asked.

  “Coren is taking his boat out for the afternoon, and he’s invited a dozen of us to come. It’s all very last minute,” Lindy said. “Edwin and Katlin will be there, and Helena and—oh, everybody! He told me to stop and pick you up, since he didn’t have time to send out invitations to everyone.”

  Karryn clapped her hands together. “Let me go tell Jasper and my mother! I’ll be back as soon as I can!”

  She scurried from the room, and Wen and Orson fell in step right behind her. Karryn waited till they were out of earshot of the visitors and then she hissed, “And don’t even think that you’re going to come with me! On a boat! With all my friends! I will look too ridiculous.”

  “And don’t even think that you have a chance of going on this expedition without four of us at your back,” Wen said calmly.

  Karryn stopped dead and spun around. “Willa! Who could possibly hurt me on Coren Bauler’s boat? We’ll be miles from anyone who means me harm! On the ocean!”

  “I don’t know Coren Bauler. Maybe he wants to throw you overboard,” Wen said. “I don’t know Edwin and Katlin. Maybe they don’t like you.”

  “Maybe an Arberharst ship is lurking a few miles out of the harbor, looking to board unwary pleasure cruisers setting out from Forten City,” Orson put in. “Twenty sailors could come pouring over the rail to slaughter the whole party.”

  “In which case, I hardly think four guards could keep me safe!” Karryn snapped.

  Orson grinned. “Ah, Willa and I can account for ten sailors each.”

  Karryn stamped her foot. “You can’t come! Everyone will say I am silly—or they’ll say I’m so arrogant I have to bring guards with me everywhere I go just to prove how important I am.”

  “I don’t care what they say,” Wen said. “We go, or you don’t.”

  “If you don’t do what I say, I’ll have both of you fired,” Karryn fumed.

  “I believe your uncle hired us, and he’s the one who’ll have to fire us,” Wen replied.

  Karryn stamped her foot again, then whirled around and stormed down the hall toward Jasper’s study. Heart sinking, Wen stole a look at Orson. This sort of behavior could not possibly endear the serramarra to the potential second in command. But he was grinning and shaking his head.

  “I think she has to be saved from herself as much as she might have to be saved from anyone else,” he whispered.

  Jasper, when appealed to, categorically sided with Wen. “I thought I made it very clear, Karryn,” he said calmly. “Willa is responsible for your safety, and her instructions are law. I happen to agree with her that I don’t want you on Coren Bauler’s boat without supervision. Coren Bauler! If Demaray Coverroe wasn’t accompanying you, there is no way I would allow you to go anywhere near him. In fact, I’m tempted to join the party, just to prove that you are, in fact, under my watchful eye.”

  “Are you trying to destroy my life?” Karryn wailed. Wen saw that she was actually starting to cry. “Everyone already thinks I’m the oddest girl, with the strangest family, and now I’m to have soldiers trailing me everywhere I go? Who will ever want to marry me? Who will ever be my friend? I’m so bizarre!”

  She started to weep in earnest, not even seeming to care that her face was blotching. Orson stood by the door expressionlessly, but Wen said, “Should I send for her mother?”

  Jasper shook his head. “Serephette would hardly be of assistance.” He came close enough to take Karryn in a gentle embrace. Instead of pushing him away, as Wen half expected, Karryn turned her face into his shoulder and continued to cry unabated. He stroked her thick brown hair and spoke with more patience than Wen would have been able to muster. She suddenly remembered that he had a grown daughter. Surely he had seen displays like this before.

  “No one wants you to seem eccentric,” he said kindly. “What you don’t understand is how precious you are. Don’t you know how terrified your mother and I were when you disappeared with Tover Banlish? I think I have been a very poor guardian up till now, not realizing how easily you could be snatched from my protection. I won’t make that mistake a second time. You must be guarded, Karryn, and I am sorry if that makes you feel odd and alone. But I will do anything to keep you safe.”

  The tone of the words, or perhaps their genuine affection, had the effect of causing Karryn to sniff and lift her head. “But what will I tell Lindy?” she whispered.

  Jasper put his hands on either side of her face and kissed her forehead. “I shall tell Demaray that I am being an overprotective uncle and that I insist on burdening you with a guard. She may mock me all she likes. I don’t care at all. Now. Would you rather I came or stayed behind? You must put up with Willa no matter what your preference, but I will not force you to endure my presence as well.”

  “No—you ought to come—I think you will enjoy it,” Karryn said, beginning to smile through her tears. “Oh—gods and goddesses! I must look a total fright. Tell the Coverroes I will be with them as soon as I can.” And without a word to Wen or Orson, she picked up her skirts and raced out the door.

  Jasper stared after her and sighed. “I suppose I’d better go change as well,” he said. “How quickly can you gather reinforcements and meet us at the gate?”

  “Ten minutes, my lord,” Wen said, and she and Orson were on their way.

  They were just shy of the barracks when she demanded, “Well? Does such a tantrum make you reconsider?”

  “She’s a girl,” he said, as if that excused ill behavior. “She cares what people think about her and, as you said before, she hasn’t had an easy time of it. But she didn’t lash out at anyone when she was disappointed, and she listened to reason. If anything, I like her more.”

  Wen couldn’t hold back her sigh of relief.

  They rounded up Eggles and a young woman named Amie, made sure everyone was suitably dressed in jackets and sashes, and jogged up to the gate just as the Fortunalt carriage was pulling around from the stables. Obviously, Jasper had decided there were now too many of them to fit in the Coverroe conveyance, and for the short ride to the sea, it was hardly worth bringing out horses for the guards.

  “Three on back, one with the driver,” Wen directed. “Let’s go.”

  WEN almost enjoyed the outing; she had always liked being on the water. Northern Tilt spilled out onto the ocean, and although he
r family had lived sixty miles inland, everyone in Tilt made it to the seashore as often as possible. But she didn’t think much of Coren Bauler, a dissolute-looking man probably a year or two shy of forty, who seemed to have no good reason to want to befriend a score of people in their teens and twenties.

  She also didn’t think much of the way Jasper Paladar passed virtually the entire length of the cruise chatting with Demaray Coverroe as they strolled up and down the boat’s polished decks. The lady was animated but relaxed, gesturing often and frequently breaking into laughter. She was enough shorter than the tall lord that she had to tilt her head up to talk to him; something about the posture seemed coquettish, Wen thought. Demaray Coverroe was not precisely pretty, but her fair hair was well-styled and her face was made up, and she carried herself with an assurance that was attractive.

  Jasper Paladar seemed to find it attractive, at any rate. He smiled more often than he did when he was playing cruxanno with Wen, and his replies to her sallies were spirited and made with the aid of several forceful gestures. Wen found herself wondering if Demaray Coverroe was as brilliant, warm, and well-read as Jasper’s own wife had been.

  Or perhaps all the noble ladies of his acquaintance were more likely to meet those standards than Wen could be expected to.

  Despite her distaste for the company, Wen was pleased when everyone in the assembled group survived the outing and made it back to shore. Even more pleased when the Fortunalt contingent was safely behind the hedge and the guards left behind assured her that all was well. She washed her face to rinse off the residue of sea air and ate a healthy dinner.

  She hesitated before making her customary trip up to the house—she had been with Jasper Paladar the whole day, after all, so she had nothing to report—but she decided to check in with him just in case he was expecting her. And indeed, she found him in the library, brooding over the cruxanno board, and ready with a smile when she entered the room.

  “I wondered if you might be too weary to play for an hour,” he said.

  “You think I’m tired? After sitting on a ship’s deck for hours doing nothing? Tired is after I’ve spent all day trying to prove I’m stronger than Orson even though he outweighs me by nearly a hundred pounds.”

  He looked interested. “And are you?”

  She settled herself in the seat across from him. “Of course not. But I’m faster. And so far, I’ve killed him four times and he’s only killed me once. So I’m better.”

  “Strategy over strength,” he said.

  “Training over natural advantage,” she retorted.

  He didn’t bother to answer, and they were both silent awhile as they studied the board. Finally, after she made her first careful move, she said, “I didn’t care much for that Bauler fellow.”

  “No, nor do I,” Jasper answered, his eyes still on the board. “He’s Thirteenth House, but he’s never struck me as quite decent. The sort of man who would get his housemaid pregnant and then send her off without a copper.”

  She muffled a laugh at the perfect description. She repositioned a line of her soldiers and had the satisfaction of hearing Jasper suck in his breath in irritation. “He’s Thirteenth House,” she repeated. “Was he ever considered to be one of the new serlords?”

  “Coren?” Jasper said in accents of revulsion. “Hardly.”

  “How were they chosen?”

  He sat back in his chair and steepled his hands, as he often did when about to embark on a long explanation. “The marlords designated the properties they were willing to cede, and all their vassal lords convened and voted on who among them deserved to be elevated—a process that involved no end of brangling and bribery, as you can imagine! In Kianlever and Tilt, so I heard, it took months before a consensus could be reached, though in Brassenthwaite and Rappengrass, the voting was over in a day. But then, Kiernan Brassenthwaite and Ariane Rappengrass run exceedingly well-regulated Houses. In every case, the elected lords had to present themselves to Ghosenhall to be approved by the queen.”

  “Who picked the properties to give up in Fortunalt?” she asked.

  “I did, but Serephette was instrumental in my decisions.”

  “It’s hard to imagine anyone voting for Tover Banlish’s father, if he’s anything like his son,” Wen commented.

  Jasper grinned. “He’s even less polished—but more honest, I would say. Not much of a politician. Neil Holden is much the same. I confess I often think my own job would be easier if Demaray had won a title instead.”

  Wen gave him an inquiring look. “She wanted to be serlady?”

  He made an equivocal motion with his hands. “Half the men and women of the Thirteenth House desired the new title and said so outright. Demaray was more restrained than most about showing how much she wanted it, but it was clear she liked the idea of being elected to a higher station.”

  Wen thought about the extravagant town house with the expensive marble facing and ostentatious gold doors. Had Demaray Coverroe built that house hoping the other lords would consider her grand enough to be voted in as serlady? If so, Wen didn’t think much of Jasper’s notions of restraint.

  “I suppose she was very unhappy when she didn’t win the votes,” Wen said.

  “She didn’t appear to be,” Jasper said. “Of course, nothing was settled for certain until the queen ratified the elections. Amalie had already rejected two other serlords—one from Tilt and one from Gisseltess, I believe. I thought Demaray might have another chance at a title if Amalie turned down Banlish or Holden. But, in fact, the queen approved them both without the slightest hesitation.”

  “Did you want to be serlord?” Wen asked curiously.

  “Not even for an instant,” he said. “What an impossible task! To serve as the first generation of a new stratum of society! Nothing could be so hard.”

  “You took on a chore that was almost as hard,” Wen said. “Watching over Karryn.”

  “Well, but this is only a few years of turbulence and trouble,” he said, smiling. “I’ll be able to wash my hands of her once she’s twenty-one. Not at all the same thing.”

  Privately, Wen thought he had accepted the more difficult assignment, but she let it go. “It’s your move,” she said. “Unless you’re tired of the game.”

  He leaned forward again, eyes once more intent on the board. “Not at all,” he said. “I’ve figured out exactly what I want to do.”

  Chapter 12

  THE JOURNEY FROM GHOSENHALL TO GISSEL PLAIN REQUIRED more effort than Senneth had spent on any trip, ever, and she had been traveling half her life. She had been certain Cammon wouldn’t be able to leave the palace guarded by only nine Riders, but she hadn’t expected them to bring nearly seventy additional soldiers with them, as well as various heralds, cooks, valets, and couriers.

  “I thought we were a country in peacetime,” she said to Tayse as she surveyed the small army of soldiers bivouacked outside the city, awaiting the signal to move out in the morning.

  A brief smile lit his dark face and made his otherwise forbidding presence seem a little less intimidating. Of course, she was not intimidated. She had been married to the Rider for more than two years and fear had never been her predominant emotion when she was with him. “Even in peace, royalty cannot be lax,” he said.

  “We only brought twenty royal soldiers when we squired Amalie around three years ago!”

  “And almost turned back a dozen times when danger presented itself,” he reminded her. “I’m not sure that Gisseltess is entirely tame. So we will go in well defended.”

  She sighed theatrically. “I used to dread going home to Brassenthwaite because I didn’t want to see my brothers,” she said. “Now I have to dread Gisseltess for the same reason. Because of a brother! Who would ever have expected such a thing?”