Shalador's Lady

by Bishop, Anne

  “They want to preserve the original and also be able to share the contents. Cassidy sent a note with the journal asking if the Queen’s gift could be extended to having a couple of copies made so that people could read Jared’s account of his journey with Lia.”

  She studied him. “That doesn’t sound like an extravagant request.”

  “It’s not. It’s also not a practical request.”

  “Ah. And what would my darling Prince consider a practical request?”

  He shrugged. “A thousand copies would be a good start.”

  She laughed. “What are you going to do with a thousand copies?”

  “For one thing, sell them in the merchant’s shop I’m opening in Eyota. They can buy the book there, then go over to the coffee shop I’m also opening and read while enjoying a cup or two of their favorite beverage.”

  She hooted. “How many shops did Gray and Ranon talk you into opening?”

  He laughed with her. “Four. Plus a loan the court can use to help the people start rebuilding their lives and villages.”

  Then his laughter faded. He cuddled Jaenelle, needing that comfort.

  “What’s troubling you?” she asked.

  “Did I do the right thing?”

  “How big a loan did you give them?” she asked.

  “Five million gold marks.”

  She laughed softly. “That explains why they both looked like they couldn’t remember how to breathe when you brought them back from the village and couldn’t string words together in a coherent sentence all through dinner.”

  “Jaenelle, did I do the right thing?”

  “Why would you ask that?

  “Because Dena Nehele is going to fall.”

  She rested a hand over his heart. “Daemon, pretend you never heard that. Act as if you’d never heard that. That’s what I’m going to do.”

  “In that case, I’m going to talk to Lord Burle about doing a bit of work on my new properties in Eyota.”

  “You could also offer those properties as training ground if there were any youngsters in that village who wanted to learn the carpenter’s trade and Lord Burle was willing to teach them.”

  “I could, could I?”

  She gave him a kiss that was warm and sweet. Then she grinned. “Yes, my darling Prince, you could.”

  CHAPTER 18

  TERREILLE

  “Theran has hired the cook from the best dining house in Grayhaven to make the meal for this dinner party,” Kermilla said as she, Correne, and her escorts, Lords Bardoc and Kenjim, drove to the place where they were meeting up with her two adorable Warlords, Garth and Brok. “Considering what a copper-pincher Theran is, these guests must be very important.”

  Correne rolled her eyes. “But not interesting. Warlord Princes?” She shuddered dramatically. “Why waste a good meal on them? It’s not like they’ll know the difference since they’re always fighting or living in the rogue camps.”

  Glancing back at the unamused expressions of her men, Kermilla whispered. “Stop that. It’s disrespectful.”

  “But it’s true.”

  Hard to argue with that. Theran plowed through food she could barely swallow, and didn’t care if a dish was bland or the potatoes were lumpy. In fact, as long as it didn’t have dirt on it and was cooked enough that it wasn’t still running, he didn’t complain. Since he would be taking care of her residence when she became Queen, she was going to have to improve his palate. Then they would have the kind of dinner parties that would impress the aristos here in Dena Nehele.

  “True or not, you don’t say things like that when other men are around. If it gets back to the Warlord Princes, it will cause trouble.”

  Correne looked over her shoulder at Bardoc and Kenjim, then looked at Kermilla. “They belong to you, so they won’t go telling tales about you. And I heard in the stables that this carriage driver had his tongue cut out so he couldn’t tell tales.”

  Kermilla winced. No, her men wouldn’t tell tales on her, but they didn’t feel the same loyalty to Correne, which was something the girl couldn’t get through her head. She acted like the men wouldn’t dare say anything.

  It might be useful to find out why the Queens here felt that way.

  Then they were at the meeting place. Brok and Garth clambered into the seats behind the driver, all smiles and young-man juice.

  “We’re having a special dinner at the house tomorrow, so Correne and I need to do some shopping.”

  “Invite us to this dinner,” Brok said. “We’ll show you how to make it special.”

  It was tempting to have someone besides Correne to talk to, but Theran had emphasized several times that these Warlord Princes were coming to meet her, talk to her, so she couldn’t have her own little party at one end of the table.

  “Can’t.” Kermilla gave them a pretty pout. “But we’ll do something fun together soon. Driver, take us to the marketplace in the landen part of town.”

  “No!” Garth sounded alarmed.

  “Whyever not?” Kermilla asked. “Driver, move on.”

  “We can’t,” Brok said, his voice full of bitter hatred. “Queen’s orders. If we cross into their part of town, we’ll be exiled from Dena Nehele.”

  Kermilla stared at them, too shocked to speak. “Why would Cassidy do that?”

  “No reason,” Garth muttered. “We were just having a little fun, and then she and that damn dog started raving.”

  “Dog?” Kermilla frowned. “Oh, the kindred Sceltie.”

  “Why don’t you have one of those smart dogs?” Correne asked. “When I set up my court, I’m going to insist on having one of them. I think it would be quite amusing.”

  “They’re more trouble than they’re worth,” Kermilla muttered. But there was a kind of status in having one of the kindred as a companion. Just not a bitch like that Vae. “Anyway, gentlemen, you needn’t be concerned with any orders given by Lady Freckledy.” She waited until Garth and Brok stopped guffawing, then tapped her Summer-sky ring. “I outrank her, which means I can countermand any order she gives. So I am formally requesting your presence while Correne and I do some shopping in the landen marketplace.” Since her escorts were behind her and couldn’t see her face, she gave her boys a significant smile. “Maybe you could even point out a likely place for us to pick up a gift or two.”

  Brok smiled back. “Yes, Lady, we could.”

  “Poppi!” Ignoring the other two men who were standing with Gray and Ranon, Cassidy threw herself into her father’s arms.

  “There’s my Kitten.” Burle hugged her breathless, then took a step back to study her face. His eyes got misty. He sniffed and nodded sharply before turning to the men. “Prince Gray. Prince Ranon.”

  “It’s a pleasure to see you again, sir,” Gray said.

  Burle frowned. “Sir? Huh.”

  Cassidy linked arms with her father. “Come inside and tell me all the gossip.”

  “Men do not gossip,” Burle said. “We share news.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, come in and—”

  “Time for that later. There’s work to be done.”

  “You’ve got time for a little visit before you start,” Cassidy protested. She wanted to have him to herself for a little while before he got involved in the whirlwind of work Prince Sadi’s loan was about to create.

  “I’ll be here a whole month,” Burle said.

  She recognized the gleam in her father’s eyes. She didn’t know what kind of arrangement Daemon Sadi had made with Burle—and she was certain neither man would tell her the exact terms of that arrangement—but Burle was excited by the possibilities.

  “It’s your decision, of course, Lord Burle,” Rainier said with a smile, “but I’ve heard the High Lord say more than once that a daughter takes priority over any other kind of work.”

  “Over any other kind of work, huh?” Burle laughed.

  Rainier indicated the man standing on his left. “Lady Cassidy, may I introduce Lord Marcus, Prince Sadi’s man of
business?”

  “It’s a pleasure to have you with us,” Cassidy said.

  “I suggest that Gray and Ranon show Marcus and me the buildings for the shops,” Rainier said. “You can spend some time with your father, and then Lord Burle can look at what needs to be done in the Queen’s Residence and the Healer’s House. Prince Sadi did emphasize that those two places were to be done first.”

  “In that case, Cassie and I will have a little visit before we get down to work,” Burle said.

  She waited until the men climbed into the open carriage with Ranon in the driver’s seat. Then she turned to her father. “I’m so glad you could come to help us.”

  “You’re my girl. Of course I would help. Besides, training a few youngsters to have a trade, that’s important too, and that’s one of the reasons I’m here.”

  “Is Mother going to come for a visit?”

  “She is. She had some things she wanted to look into first. Then she’ll be along. And your brother’s planning to come and help out for a few days too.” Burle turned, looked at the Residence, and said wistfully, “Hate to waste good daylight.”

  Since she felt the same way about gardening as he did about building, she smiled. “In that case, let’s get you settled into one of the guest rooms. We’ll get a quick bite to eat so that we don’t have to fib when we’re asked if we took time for it, and then we can visit while I help you take measurements at the Healer’s House.”

  “That’s a deal, Kitten. That is a deal.”

  “Lady, I think it would be wiser to do your shopping in another part of the town.”

  “Oh, la, Kenjim,” Kermilla said. “There’s no need to be fussing about this.” Besides, until Theran paid the bills at the few aristo shops she had found in this dung-heap town, the merchants weren’t going to extend any more credit.

  “Your companions have a questionable kind of honor,” Kenjim said.

  “How can you say that?” Kenjim served her, but Garth and Brok were hers. “How dare you say that?”

  “I dare because I’m First Circle. Lady, we’re not in Dharo. We aren’t even in our own Realm. This isn’t a friendly place, and those young studs could pull you into the kind of trouble that ends in bloodshed.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “Is it?”

  Lower lip trembling, she walked away from him. The fact that he stayed at the carriage instead of accompanying her to the tables of goods told her plainly enough that he wouldn’t serve her one minute past his contract. And that made her angry as well as sad. Kenjim used to think she was a “delight to the senses.” Now all he did was criticize.

  They called this a craftsmen’s courtyard? Kermilla looked at the half-empty tables and the sullen landen faces. They watched her with a look in their eyes that made her nervous. Maybe Kenjim was right. Maybe this wasn’t a good part of town for her to be in. But giving in now would mean taking orders from a male who was supposed to serve her, and no Queen with any pride would do that.

  She joined Correne, who had been studying a selection of leather belts.

  “This one would be acceptable,” Correne said. “The buckle is almost pretty.”

  The leather was lusciously soft and meant to accept the sweet curve of a woman’s hips, and the pewter buckle was in the shape of an arbor and bench, a highly suggestive piece implying the pleasure that could be sampled in a garden—if a woman wore it in the right place.

  “This is a fine piece, Lady,” the landen said. “The price is thirty silver marks.”

  “Thirty!” Correne said. “You think I would pay a landen thirty silver marks for anything?”

  Rage flashed in the landen’s face, quickly masked but not quickly enough.

  Brok and Garth stepped up to the table.

  “You trying to give the Ladies trouble?” Brok snarled.

  “Gentlemen,” Kermilla said firmly. “There is no reason to be uncivil because of a simple misunderstanding.” She looked at the landen and used the same tone that effectively cowed the landens in sheep-shit Woolskin. “I’m sure this man didn’t realize a Queen was interested in the belt, and it is customary that when a Queen expresses interest in an item, it is given to her as a gift.” She picked up the belt and handed it to Correne. “Therefore, haggling over the price isn’t necessary. Is it?”

  The landen looked at Brok and Garth. Then he shook his head. “No, it’s not necessary. Please accept this belt as a gift, Lady.”

  “The guards are coming,” Garth said. “Let’s go.”

  Something in his voice had Kermilla walking back to their carriage. And something in Brok’s voice when he looked at a weaver and said, “Tell your little bitch to keep an eye out for us,” made her shiver.

  Then the guards rode up and surrounded them—hard men with honed tempers.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Kermilla demanded.

  “These two Warlords were forbidden to come into the landen part of town,” a guard said. “The penalty for disobeying the Queen’s command is exile. Or death.”

  “No!” Kermilla’s heart pounded. How could this man be such a brute? He had no business threatening her boys. None! “You can’t do that.”

  “The Queen’s command—”

  “I outrank Cassidy, and I say these men are free to come and go as they please!”

  The guard looked at her, and there was no indication he was going to yield.

  “Your Jewels may outrank Lady Cassidy’s, but she rules Dena Nehele.”

  “For now,” Kermilla snapped. “Come spring, I will be the law here, and I won’t forget who caused trouble for me and mine.”

  A humming, terrible silence.

  “Warlord,” Kenjim said politely as he stepped up to stand at her left. “The Ladies were not aware of this command when they asked these two Warlords to stand as additional escorts.”

  “Garth and Brok were aware of it,” the guard said. “They almost blinded a young girl. That’s why they were banned from this part of town.”

  “If Lord Bardoc and I had been aware of this, we would have opposed those Warlords coming with us,” Kenjim said.

  Kenjim’s anger was a scalding heat against her skin. Kermilla took a half step away from him.

  “We’ll escort you all back to the line,” the guard said. “And we’ll take Garth and Brok back to their father’s house. This will be reported to the Master of the Guard. If he feels that more needs to be done, he’ll take care of it.”

  If more needs to be done? Kermilla frowned. What did that mean?

  “Fair enough,” Kenjim said.

  “Fair enough?” Kermilla stared at Kenjim in disbelief. Then she glared at the guard. “You won’t report to anyone. Grayhaven is Theran’s town.”

  “Last I heard, it was still part of Dena Nehele. Prince Grayhaven may rule here, but he still has to answer to the Queen and her court. And that includes Talon, the Master of the Guard.”

  Theran would be furious if Talon came here and started chewing on him over this.

  She offered no other protests as Kenjim and Bardoc helped her and Correne into the carriage.

  *I vanished the belt before the guards arrived,* Correne said once they were all seated.

  As if that was the least bit important right now, Kermilla thought.

  Two of the guards escorted them all the way back to the spot where she had met up with Brok and Garth. Then they rode off with her two boys, leaving her with Bardoc’s discomfort and Kenjim’s simmering anger.

  As soon as they returned to the mansion, Correne scurried to her room and Bardoc made some excuse about needing to talk to Jhorma. Which left her alone with Kenjim, who followed her right into her room.

  “What in the name of Hell are you doing, associating with bastards who would try to blind a child?” Kenjim growled.

  “Garth and Brok are mine.” Kermilla thumped a fist against her chest. “Mine!”

  “They tried to blind a child!”

  “A stupid landen!” Kermilla sh
outed. “Who cares about landens?”

  He stared at her before saying quietly, “A Queen with honor.”

  The insult silenced her. She studied his eyes, felt the sharp heat of his temper. She tried a delicate psychic probe to find out what was under the moment’s temper—and found disgust, disappointment, and contempt.

  “If Garth and Brok belong to you, then I don’t.” Kenjim’s voice was dangerously quiet. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, claiming that you’re going to be Queen here—”

  “I am going to be Queen! Theran promised me!”

  Kenjim let out a huffing laugh that held no humor. “Then he’s as much of a fool as we were.”

  Kermilla walked over to the window and stared at nothing. Bardoc was unhappy about this misunderstanding with those stupid guards who were protecting landens, but she could talk him around. Kenjim, however, was now a danger to her. He wouldn’t be able to turn Theran against her, but his anger could sour the opinion of the Warlord Princes who were coming to meet her. He might even try to ruin her chance of becoming the Queen of Dena Nehele.

  She turned back to face him. “Pack your things. You’re returning to Bhak immediately. I’ll have Gallard assign another in the First Circle to stand escort here.”

  “As the Lady wishes.” Kenjim’s smile held a sharp, terrible edge. “Before you, I served an honest—and honorable—Queen for five years. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand the value of negotiating.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “If you try to smear my reputation by distorting what happened today or by misrepresenting this conversation, I will go to Lady Darlena and counter your report with a charge of mistreatment.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Wouldn’t I?”

  Kermilla paled. As a District Queen, she ruled under the hand of a Province Queen who, in turn, ruled her piece of Dharo under the hand of the Territory Queen. If Kenjim went to Darlena with a charge of mistreatment, more than the Province Queen would be taking a look at her court. And that wouldn’t do at all. Not when spring was so many months away. If Darlena—or even worse, Sabrina—took Kenjim’s side in this and released him from his contract right now, it would break her court, and she wouldn’t have the income from Bhak and Woolskin to support her, as insufficient as it was.