Shalador's Lady
Page 24
“She says she is.”
No. It wasn’t just that he wanted Cassie to rule; the thought of Kermilla ruling filled him with dread.
“Thing is,” James said, “I’m tired of destroying, tired of fighting and killing. But if it has to be done again, I’d rather fight for something than against something.”
A plea in those eyes. Messages under the spoken words.
And suddenly Ranon remembered what Jaenelle had said to him: People looked beyond themselves and made room for you. Remember that, Prince.
Before he could work out what he wanted to ask James, a handful of guards rode up.
Ranon turned and put up an Opal shield behind him, protecting the landen since the hostility in the guards’ psychic scents was sufficient warning that he’d walked into some kind of trouble.
The senior guard, Lord Rogir, stared at him for a moment—and the Warlord’s aggression faded with recognition. “Prince Ranon?”
Ranon nodded, noting the way the other guards had fanned out. Two were keeping an eye on the landens; the others were watching him.
“Prince, if I could have a few minutes of your time?” Rogir asked.
Taking a careful measure of the tempers around him, Ranon dropped the Opal shield behind him and turned to James. “I’ll be back.” Then he strode far enough away to be out of earshot.
Lord Rogir dismounted and followed him.
“Is the Rose Queen coming back to Grayhaven?” Rogir asked.
“No,” Ranon replied. “She’s settled in Eyota. So is the court.”
“Is Lady Cassidy leaving in the spring? Is it true the other Dharo Queen is going to rule Dena Nehele?”
“You all seem to know something more than Cassidy’s court knows,” Ranon said. “Lady Kermilla can fart words all she wants. Doesn’t change who is ruling Dena Nehele now—or who is going to continue to rule. The court stands. If the Queen is challenged, we’ll fight.” It wasn’t really his place to make such a statement without more of the First Circle present, but he was sure of the truth of it.
Rogir glanced at James Weaver. “Can you do anything for them? This town isn’t safe for that family anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Whether she rules officially or not, Theran Grayhaven has given this town over to the other Queen. She says she outranks the Rose Queen and can countermand any orders we’ve been given.” Fury swept over Rogir’s face. “She brought those two Warlords, Garth and Brok, into this part of town a few days ago—and she made the kind of warning threats we’ve all heard before about what will happen to anyone who opposes her now. Since then, my men and I have kept a close watch on this courtyard. Those Warlords came back this morning, and they were looking for Weaver’s little girl. They blame her for the punishment they damn well deserved. If they get their hands on her this time, they’ll do a lot worse than throw horse shit and stones.”
Ranon felt sick, cold.
“I’ve got a wife and a daughter about the same age as his.” Rogir tipped his head toward James. “I’ve kept an eye on these folks because of that. Gotten to know them. Blood and landen . . . We may be from the same race, but we’re not the same. We’ll never be the same, so we don’t fit together easy. But a father is a father, and I think about the fear that would be eating my gut if two Warlords had that look in their eyes when they asked about my little girl.”
Easy enough to guess where this conversation was heading, but the words had to be said. So Ranon waited.
Rogir cleared his throat. “Those landens need to get out of Grayhaven. And I want my family out of here. The guards who have been riding with me to protect the landens and have followed the Queen’s command? They want to get out too. Especially the one who is newly married and hoped for a better life than he or his wife had known before.”
People looked beyond themselves and made room for you. Remember that, Prince. “I can’t make any promises before discussing this with the Queen,” Ranon said.
“Understood.”
Listen to your heart. “I’ll meet you back here after dark, and one way or another, we’ll figure out how to get your family out of this town. The other guards as well.” He glanced at James Weaver. “And them.”
“I’ve got a sister . . .” Rogir trailed off.
“Have a list ready for me.” Ranon hesitated, but it had to be said because it could make a difference between someone choosing to go or stay. “You’ll probably end up living in the same village as the court. That means living in a Shalador reserve.”
“I’ll let the others know, but if the court is there and your people are willing to have us, I don’t think anyone who wants to leave is going to care about those kinds of boundaries.”
Ranon nodded and returned to James. “How many of you want to get out?”
James looked at him as if not quite daring to believe the question. A glance at the other craftsmen, who nodded. “Several families. All have skilled craftsmen who aren’t afraid to work hard.”
That would please Burle, Ranon thought. Cassie’s father wasn’t afraid of working hard either and required the same commitment from anyone who was going to work for him.
“My brother has sheep.” James sounded cautiously hopeful. “They give a fine wool that my wife spins for our weaving. And Tanner’s cousin has cattle for meat and leather. I know a dairyman too. Maybe . . . maybe a dozen families in all.” He looked sad. “Too many here think the past will be our future. They’ve given up hope. They’ll stay here to fight or die. Some of us would like more for our families.”
Ranon signaled for Rogir to join them. Looking at Rogir, he tipped his head toward James. “Can your family shelter his tonight?”
“We can,” Rogir replied without hesitation.
“I don’t know where you will end up, and I don’t know what I can offer beyond the promise that I’ll help you get out of this town,” Ranon said.
“I’ll talk to the men I know want to get out,” Rogir said. “Tell them to pack up what they don’t want to leave behind.”
James made a gesture that took in himself and the other craftsmen who were watching them so intently. “We were relocated here after the uprisings. We were allowed only what could fit in one wagon. Everything we have can still fit in that wagon.”
Ranon looked at the two men. They had stood on opposite sides during the uprisings. Now they stood together as fathers and husbands—and men who, if they had to fight again, wanted to fight for something instead of against something.
“Start packing,” he said. “We’ll meet back here during the aristo dinner hour.” Less chance of running into Theran or Kermilla at that time. “I’ll give you the Queen’s decision then.”
Mounting his horse, he rode back through town and found himself passing one of the shops that held the kind of merchandise only an aristo could afford. He stopped, dismounted, and went in, not sure what he was doing there.
Hell’s fire. He knew what he was doing there: looking for something to sweeten the half-promises he’d made on his Queen’s behalf.
“May I assist you?” the merchant asked.
Sweets. Cassie had dipped into the loan Sadi had given the court and given her First Circle half what was due them from the coming tithe, so he had a few marks he could spend.
“Chocolates,” he said. “A small treat for the Ladies.” He emphasized small because the stuff was wickedly expensive.
The merchant studied him. “You serve Lady Cassidy.”
Ranon felt his body tighten, but he wasn’t sure why since the man had made no hostile move. “I do.”
“I heard she is now living in a village in the eastern Shalador reserve?”
“She is.”
“Is she intending to stay there?”
“She is.”
A hesitation. “Would there be room in that village for another shop?” Ranon blinked. Another one looking to run? He looked around the shop. “The Shalador people couldn’t afford your fine merchandise.�
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“I can adapt and sell what people need.”
There weren’t any shops like this one in Eyota, but there were going to be the shops owned by Sadi. “The Warlord Prince of Dhemlan now owns a few shops in the village. His man of business is talking to anyone interested in managing those shops. Lord Marcus will be in Eyota for a couple more days.”
“Thank you for the information.”
As the merchant went behind the counter, Ranon spotted the small boxes of chocolates. He winced at the price, but he chose the box that held a dozen pieces—three each for Cassidy, her mother Devra, Shira, and Reyhana.
He set the box on the counter. The merchant looked at the box, then reached under the counter, set a box twice that size beside the one Ranon chose, and vanished the smaller box.
“The one you chose is stale,” he said. “I’ll give you this one for the same price.”
Ranon frowned. “Why would you leave out stale sweets?”
The merchant smiled wearily. “It doesn’t sting as much when they are stolen.”
“Have you reported this theft?” Ranon asked. “Who has been stealing from you?”
The man’s silence was the answer.
Ranon paid for the chocolates, then vanished the box and headed for the door. He wanted to get away from here. He wanted to be home.
But he hesitated at the door and turned to look at the merchant. “If you come to Eyota, tell Lord Marcus I suggested he talk to you.”
“Thank you, Prince.”
As he rode back to the Coaching station to return the horse, he kept his eyes on the street, aware of how many people noticed him and half raised a hand to catch his attention. He’d had enough for one day—too much for one day—so he pretended he didn’t see them.
But he couldn’t ignore the four Warlord Princes who walked out of the Coaching station just as he rode up.
He hadn’t ridden with any of them during the uprisings, and didn’t know any of them as friends. But when there were only a hundred of your caste left to defend your land, you knew the names and faces—and reputations—of those men.
“Ranon,” Ferall said, sounding cordial—and surprised. Since Ferall’s Opal Jewel outranked the other three, he stood as their leader while they were together.
“Ferall,” Ranon said. Then he nodded to the other men. “Gentlemen.”
“You were up to the mansion?” Ferall asked.
He shook his head. “Had some personal business in the town. I offered to pick up a couple of things for the Ladies that weren’t available in Eyota.”
“We have some personal business here ourselves,” Ferall said.
Like a meeting with Theran? But it wasn’t a question to ask, because silence was being offered. They wouldn’t mention his presence in the town to Theran and he wouldn’t mention them to the court by name.
He nodded and led the horse to the stables. Then he caught the Opal Wind and headed back to Eyota.
He’s dancing on the knife’s edge, Cassidy thought as she listened to Ranon’s too carefully thought-out report. He was skilled enough at offering this kind of information that she couldn’t tell what he was withholding, only that he wasn’t telling her everything.
She glanced at her Master of the Guard. Whatever reason Ranon had for tempering his words now, he was going to tell Talon everything.
Easy enough to guess though. He’d been in Grayhaven. If he’d had a meeting with Theran—or Kermilla—he wouldn’t want her to know. Then again, Shira had said that she had sent Ranon to Grayhaven because of a vision.
Did the reason really matter? Cassidy wondered. Did whatever Ranon was hiding matter? There were people who wanted to leave Grayhaven and begin a new life, and had asked a member of her First Circle for help. She had the uneasy feeling that some of those people might not have any life if she didn’t support the tentative offers Ranon had made on behalf of Queen and court.
And in truth, he had acted as a Warlord Prince in Kaeleer would have acted. He had acted because he believed in her and the Old Ways her presence was bringing back to the Blood in Dena Nehele.
When Ranon finished his report, a heavy silence filled the room as all the First Circle who had returned from their duties in time for this meeting waited for her response.
She stood up and walked over to Ranon, who tensed but showed no other sign of nerves.
“Since the day I met you, you have championed the Shalador people, argued so their concerns wouldn’t be ignored. Today you are standing for a people who are not your own but needed someone to speak for them. By doing so, you honor the justice I want for all the people of Dena Nehele. I’m so proud of you and—” Her throat suddenly closed. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over. She swallowed hard, put a hand on her chest, and said, “My heart is too full for words.”
Suddenly she was in his arms, being hugged breathless. Then he released her and stepped back.
Wiping tears off her cheeks, Cassidy looked at Gray and Powell. “We need to consider land and buildings. Any suggestions?”
“If the merchant is willing to be a manager rather than own a shop, I think he’ll be a good choice for one of Prince Sadi’s shops,” Powell said. “However, I suggest that a condition of his managing a shop in this village is that he hire one or two Shaladorans who want to learn the merchant trade and teach them the skills needed to run their own shops one day.”
Cassidy’s smile widened until her muscles ached. “That’s an excellent idea.”
“The guards who have families may want to look at the available cottages within the Queen’s square,” Archerr said. “From a tactical point of view, having more trained fighters within that ground is better for all of us.”
“Agreed,” Talon said.
“So we should pick a couple of cottages?” Powell asked.
“You will not,” Cassidy and Shira said.
Powell blinked.
“The women will choose their own homes,” Cassidy said firmly.
Powell blinked again, apparently not sure if there was any safe ground at the moment. “Very well. We will charge rent?”
Cassidy started to deny it, but Ranon said, “That’s fair. The village is giving the land and buildings to the court to do with as you please. That doesn’t mean letting anyone beyond the First Circle live here free. Cassie, if you don’t want to keep the rent as income for yourself or the court, it could go back into the village treasury. Or you can offer the cottages as part of the wages the guards receive from the village treasury or the tithes.”
Cassidy chewed on her lower lip. Too much to think about.
“Why don’t we work out those kinds of details later?” Powell suggested.
Gray looked up from a rough sketch of the village and the available buildings. “Ranon, what’s this place beyond the village?”
Ranon braced his hands on the table and leaned to see the sketch better. “Used to be a kind of tradesman’s school. I think. My grandfather might remember when it was last inhabited.”
“Would it work for craftsmen?” Gray asked. “It looks like a walled community that has a considerable bit of open land attached to it. And it’s a couple of miles beyond the rest of the village.”
Ranon nodded. “It was far enough out to be vulnerable to attack. I think that’s why it was abandoned.”
“We don’t have to worry about attacks now,” Gray said. “How about offering this place to the landens?”
Cassidy saw something flicker in Ranon’s eyes when Gray said they didn’t have to worry about attacks. “You think the landens would be at risk if they lived so close to us?”
“No,” Ranon said quickly. “In fact, this might be a fair compromise. They’ll have a place that is their own, but it’s close enough for them to come into the village for market day and other supplies. There’s enough land attached to the place for them to graze their livestock as well as grow some crops beyond kitchen gardens. Only one big barn, but it was built to hold all the animals in the community,
so it might do for them for this year at least.”
“So we’re agreed on what we can offer?” Cassidy asked, looking at her First Circle and waiting for their nods of agreement. “In that case, Ranon, go back and talk to them.”
“I’ll draft letters of passage,” Powell said. “That way if the landens are stopped along the way, the Blood will know they’re traveling at the Queen’s command.”
“Good idea,” Talon said. “Ranon, see if the guards who don’t have families to settle would be willing to ride escort for the landens.”
“I’ll ask,” Ranon said.
“Gray, get a couple of horses saddled,” Talon said. “I want to take a look at these places, and I want you to come with me since you’ve been looking at these buildings more than the rest of us.”
“Yes, sir.” Gray vanished the sketch, gave Cassidy a smile, and left the room.
“I think that will be all, gentlemen,” Powell said. “If you would come to my office, we’ll discuss tomorrow’s duties.”
Powell had a knack for being a Steward, Cassidy thought as the men except Ranon and Talon left the room.
“Cassidy, Reyhana, and I have drum practice tonight, so I think Maydra prepared a stew for dinner,” Shira said, looking at Ranon. “I’ll see if it’s ready so you can have a quick meal before you head back out.”
“Before you go,” Ranon said. He called in a box, set it on the table, and nudged it toward Cassidy. “I picked up some chocolates for you Ladies.”
Cassidy stared at the box, then let out a whoop of laughter. “You really were nervous about this report, weren’t you?”
Looking completely baffled, Ranon said, “Huh?”
“The last time I saw a box of chocolates this size was when my father had done something to piss off my mother and was trying to work his way back to the sweeter side of her temper.” Cassidy looked at Ranon more closely. Hell’s fire. The man was blushing.
*You hit the target dead center that time,* Shira said on a distaff thread. She hurried out of the room.
Ranon was strong, brave, as arrogant as any other Warlord Prince, and wouldn’t back down from a fight. But he had shy spots when it came to living with women, and he wasn’t always sure of how he should behave.