by Wren Handman
“They’re leaving? Already?” she cried, scrambling up. With a muffled curse she ran her hands through her hair, trying to tame the tangled mess, and then scooted toward the ladder. “I can’t believe none of them came to say good-bye. What asses!” she complained.
“That’s soldiers for you, no sense of common human decency,” she said with a smile. Taya wasn’t sure if it was a joke, but at that moment she agreed whole-heartedly.
She scrambled down the ladder, nodding to the family at the table. They were the only ones still inside, and as she walked out she saw that people were milling a little, but had generally finished packing their belongings. They were really about to walk away, then. She didn’t have much time.
She sought out Sarah first because she knew it would be the quickest good-bye, and she shook her hand and thanked her for the journey, wishing her good luck. She found Liam and gave him a passing prayer for luck, as well as everyone she had played cards with or whose stories she had heard around the fire.
Next she tracked down David and Ryan, who were standing among a group she recognized as the leaders of the rebellion. When they saw her coming, David smiled.
“I thought we might not see you before we left,” he told her fondly, and impulsively she caught him in a strong hug.
“You ass. I can’t believe you weren’t going to wake me to say good-bye,” she said, and he returned the hug. “I’m glad to have met you, and I know we’ll meet again once you finish winning this war.”
“Aye. You pray for us, all right?”
“Every night,” she said. And then, before she lost her courage, she took a sideways step to bring her in front of Ryan and caught him in an embrace as well. It was the first and only time she ever managed to surprise him, and she felt him stiffen before awkwardly returning the embrace. “Be safe, and watch out for David,” she said, and she caught a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. He gave her a small nod, and now that she knew him better, she recognized the friendship in the gesture.
She turned and walked away from them before her emotions could get the better of her, and searched out Jeremy. He was standing in the middle of a group of men, talking with bowed heads, but when he saw her he excused himself and made his way toward her.
“Taya, I’m glad you’re awake.”
“You sound like David. I can’t believe you thought you could sneak away without me catching you,” she said with a smile.
“I would have woken you before we left,” he promised, and she realized that she believed him.
Here was a man who would sooner curse the gods than steer her wrong, and the thought was both warm and painful.
“We’ll send word as soon as the war is over and it’s safe for you to go back home. I swear on my honor, it will be the very first letter I pen, the very first messenger I send.”
“I’ll hold you to that. These people are kind, but I will go out of my mind alone here.”
He nodded, but seemed at a loss for what to say. She, too, was out of words. Would this be the last time they saw each other? Would there be a letter, or only rumors caught and carried on the wind, bloody tales of failed insurrection? Was there a way to make him understand everything she was leaving unsaid?
“You know by now that I always get my way,” she said. “I have never lost a fight nor made a wager I haven’t won. So listen. I will bet my life that you will win this war, and you will come through it safely. And if you think for one moment that you can prove me wrong, you had best think again, because I have never been wrong. Not ever.” The words were soft, spoken only to him, and in his eyes she saw that he understood.
“I would not wish to disappoint you,” he said, catching one of her hands in hers and holding it for a moment.
She nodded, clenching her teeth, blinking quickly and pretending there was no reason for it. She wanted to throw her arms around him, to hold him close as she had done with David, but this felt different. Even if he won, he would be gone from her life. He was a door she could never walk through, a possibility she could never realize.
“Then I’ll read that letter, someday soon.”
She slipped her hand away and left, knowing there was nothing else to say. It was in Ashua’s hands now, and in theirs. She could only wait, and watch, and pray. And Oblivion take her, how she hated it! She was not made for being the one left behind.
She found Darren standing beside Princess Nicola, their fingers discreetly touching as they bent their heads close to talk. She cleared her throat, interrupting the tête-à-tête.
“So sorry to interrupt, but I hoped I could have a few words with Darren,” she said. “In private.”
“Of course,” Princess Nicola said, smooth as silk and twice as gracious. She kissed Darren lightly on the cheek, so fine and proper, and seemed to glide away rather than walking.
Taya resisted the urge to scowl, just barely. Darren seemed annoyed at being pulled away, and he walked only a few steps with her before speaking.
“What is it?”
She stomped around the building, to the relative privacy of the stables, and as soon as they were out of sight of the crowds she smacked him as hard as she could across the face. “You swine of an ass! You haven’t said one word to me in nearly two days, I’m only here because of you, I’ve lost everything because of you, and now when I’m about to lose you too, when you’re about to go off and fight and maybe die, all you can think is that our farewells are taking time away from your precious new love? Well Oblivion take you, Darren Mannima!” she hollered, and attempted to storm away.
He caught her by the arm, weak from his injury but still stronger than she was, sharply arresting her movement. “Taya, wait! C’mon, don’t be cross. I’m sorry.” He gave her one of his charming smiles, and she was surprised to find herself totally unaffected.
“Do you understand that this might be the last time we ever see each other?”
“Taya, love, I’ll be fine!” He wrapped his uninjured arm around her and gave her a gentle chuck against the chin, like he was just heading off on another contract on the sea. “We’ll win the war, you’ll see. No need to be frightened for me.”
“And then?” She gently disengaged. “When you have won, and taken your throne, and married your perfect queen—exactly when do you see yourself having time to visit a Miranova seamstress?” She shook her head, fighting to hold back the tears she hated so. “Our time is over, Darren. It was wonderful while it lasted, and we meant the world to each other for a while, but that’s gone now. The things we built our lives on—they’ve literally burned away. This is our good-bye. Our chance to end things with all the joy and laughter and fondness that we knew each other with. I just want to look into your eyes once more as my friend, and not as the foreign king with the weight of worlds on his shoulders. Can’t we do that?” Her voice was thick with tears, and though she felt them shimmering in her eyes she managed to blink them away, to look at him calmly and with a bittersweet smile.
He hugged her again, this time pulling her into his chest. “It won’t be like that, Taya, love. It won’t. You’ll be always be in my heart. I could rule the whole world all together, Tay, and still I would keep a room in my palace for you to come an’ stay. I’ll pay for the trips, Tay, I’ll do whatever needs to be. I ain’t losing ya.”
He released her shoulders and she took a step back, shaking her head with a smile. He was such a fool, but he believed it, and who was she to argue? Maybe he needed the strength of that dream to get him through the coming war.
He smiled and brushed her disastrous hair from her face. “I deserved that slap. I think you’ll always be here, y’know? So when things get crazy an’ wild an’ there’s so much, I think you’re the one I can put last. That ain’t right, I know it. I shouldn’t ’a run off soon as Nicola got there. Ashua, Tay. Why do ya put up with me, when I’m such an ass?”
“I have no worldly idea,” she said with a smile.
“But ya do, don’t ya? Always have. I got ple
nty ’a mates, Taya, but you are the best friend I could ever have known. The very best.” He caught her in a hug again and she rested her head briefly on his shoulder.
“Please, be safe,” she breathed.
“I will. I promise.”
They held that pose for a minute before he stepped away. She reached up and gently touched the place where she had slapped him.
“I think it’s turning red,” she said, and he gave a roaring laugh.
“Oh, won’t the men just love that,” he said, shaking his head. “You always were a handful.”
“Yes, well, I wouldn’t be a problem if you had bigger hands,” she told him tartly, and he followed her back to camp, a grin on his face.
Marce called the roll again, everyone solemnly aware of the names he didn’t say, and they organized into fresh companies. Darren said a quiet good-bye to Princess Nicola, which seemed heartfelt, and for the first time Taya felt a stirring of pride for him. If he had to fall for someone other than her, he had certainly picked someone high in the world. She was beautiful, and she did seem kind. He looked so happy when he stood beside her and kissed her hand.
She picked Jeremy out from the crowd, and watched him with a pang as he led his company away. Quicker than it seemed so many men could move they were gone, and it was just the five of them left. Nicola was not going with the departing soldiers, of course, but as soon as they were gone she seemed eager to be away.
“I’d best go saddle my horse,” she said with a smile.
“Do you know how? I could help,” Westley offered.
It hit Taya for the first time that she was surrounded by men and women who were used to having others provide all of their simple necessities, from building fires to getting dressed of a morning. No wonder Leanne felt herself in exile here. It wasn’t just her lover she had given up. It was her whole way of life.
“No, thank you, I had the stablehand show me before I left. I’ve got the knack of it now, I’m fairly sure,” she said, and she headed toward the stables.
Taya followed, hoping to get a few minutes of small talk in, maybe get a better sense of who this woman really was. She gave Taya what seemed like an annoyed look when she saw her following, but quickly pasted it over with a vacant smile.
“Do you have no servants with you?” Taya asked Nicola.
“No, it would raise far too many suspicions. My father is aware of my compliancy in this revolution, but few others in our household are. He didn’t want me to come at all—intended to send our boy Kevin. But I was wary that they might doubt the veracity of the message if I didn’t bring it myself. So here I am, and now I must be gone. I can only stay in bed with a sore stomach for so many days before someone decides to barge in and bother me,” she said with a wink.
There was something awkward about the speech, like she was trying too hard to seem friendly. The wink felt forced, and the smile she gave was like a bad mummer’s play. Taya knew it was probably just her own jealousy speaking, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about her.
Taya helped calm the horse while Nicola fetched the saddle, the one Taya had been leaning against before. Despite her insistence that she knew how to do it, Taya saw that she had an awkward time with it. She picked it up still covered in the blanket, and then got the straps caught and had quite a time fishing them out. But when Taya suggested that she remove the blanket to make it easier Nicola snapped that she was fine, she could do it. Taya smiled at that—it reminded her of herself. Maybe there was a reason Darren liked her after all.
Once the horse was finally saddled, Nicola bade everyone a very polite and very formal farewell, and then she turned and made her way down the track in the opposite direction of the rebel band. Taya felt like now she knew what Darren saw in Nicola, but she couldn’t help but wonder what Nicola saw in Darren. All of the things that Taya loved about him—his sense of adventure, his coarse wit, his fondness for getting into trouble—seemed like things that would be less valued in a woman of Nicola’s social graces. Perhaps she thought to tame Darren, and as with a polished gem, bring out the sparkle within. If so, she would be sorely disappointed. Darren’s sparkle was the rock that covered him. There was nothing beneath.
Taya slept badly that night, though she took some comfort in Leanne’s warm presence. They didn’t get up to anything, both too exhausted from the long day, but it felt good to have someone beside her again. She hated sleeping alone.
The next day they were kept busy trying to fix the mess the rebels had left behind. There were remains of fire everywhere, and the grass was flattened beyond repair, but they wanted to make it look like no one had been here, in case enemy soldiers came looking. By lunch they were all exhausted and ready to gorge themselves, and they sat down at table together (with, Taya noted, a quick prayer to Yariel before they ate). As they had cooked, Westley kept regaling her with interesting but useless information about every subject that came up in conversation. His wife had teased that he was worse than a university philosopher, and Leanne had said he was worse than a Sanitan. But Taya decided, since he was so eagerly free with information, she could try to fill in some blanks, and once they were settled down she broached the subject on her mind.
“I’m curious about something. Darren mentioned that he was introduced to Princess Nicola by Jeremy.”
“Yes, I can imagine how that would be the case,” Westley agreed.
“But she said no one knew that her father was involved in the revolution. So how did Jeremy know she would be sympathetic?”
“Oh, Sephria’s politics are more complicated and older than the Great Republic,” he said with a laugh, “and it all comes down to our houses. Do you know of them?”
“I’ve…heard the term. That’s about the extent of my knowledge,” Taya said with a laugh.
“Are you interested? I’d be happy to explain it to you.”
“Dad, she doesn’t want you to talk her ear off about politics!” Leanne said.
“Actually, I’d appreciate it. I feel a little lost as it is.”
“Ha. Some people like learning,” he told his daughter with the grin of an old argument, and she rolled her eyes. “Well, let me see…Sephria is divided into duchies. Every duchy has six to nine baronies in it, and there are fourteen duchies. It’s the dukes that wield the power in Sephria, and of course the king. It used to be more evenly balanced, but king Octarion has been sucking state powers from the barons and giving them to the dukes. Some people say he’s a tyrant with an iron fist, but the truth is those dukes as were part of the usurpation have him by the throat. They’ve got all the real armies, not him. Now, each of those dukes has a house, and each of his barons is part of that house, though they’ll each have their own family name. Duke Olminato, for instance—that’s Princess Nicola’s father—is actually Duke Michael Olminato of House Badger. They’re one of the oldest and proudest of the houses, and historically many queens have been taken from their ranks. In fact, some call them house kingmaker.”
“So they were close to Darren’s father, and are out of favor now?”
“They were close to King Tyler, but somehow managed to maintain their position after the usurpation. Rumors were that they worked with the false king, but I suppose that was an act.”
“Then again,” Danielle chimed in, “they have a reputation as a calculating and ruthless house, The Badgers. I wouldn’t put it past Duke Olminato to back whoever he thought was winning, and make sure he had a horse in every race.”
“I always hated Sandra growing up. Nicola’s sister,” Leanne explained for Taya’s benefit. “She once tried to drown me in a fountain.”
“You were children,” Westley chided. “You were both too rough for respectable young girls.”
“A badger hardly strikes me as a noble creature,” Taya said, remembering the vicious beast that had attacked her to protect its young. She had always considered them such pretty animals, but now the thought of them brought back fractured memories of pa
in and growling in the dark.
“Aye, many of our standards are a bit odd. Sanitos used an animal system in their heraldry, and we Sephrians didn’t just want to copy any of the ‘old ideas,’ as it were. That’s how we ended up with things like House Badger or House Stormcloud.”
“Papa’s a baron in House Racoon,” Leanne said.
“There’s nothing wrong with a racoon!” Danielle objected. “They’re smart, and mean, and hard to kill.”
“It’s better than the king’s family’s duchy, House Goldfinch,” Westley said with a chuckle.
“It hardly strikes terror into people’s hearts!” Taya agreed with a laugh, and the man smiled.
“As much as we love to tease, each animal has meaning, and sometimes knowing what the house wants to represent helps understand their psychology. Badgers, for instance, seem an innocuous creature, and yet their claws are razor sharp. The goldfinch is a songbird, which pleases all who listen to it. In a way, it is the diplomat of the animal world…you see?”
“Oh, that’s very clever!”
By now the food was settling comfortably in her stomach. It was the first warm meal that Taya had had in ages, and it felt indescribably comforting. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, staying here for a time. She would learn so much, and they were a family who obviously loved each other deeply. Taya’s upbringing hadn’t been quite this cozy.
Leanne put a hand on her arm. “You’re a seamstress, you’ll love this—every house color has its own meaning, too.”
“I live a thousand miles away and I still know how important your colors are to you,” she teased. “I’ve heard nobles decorating their houses, their clothing trim, even their saddlebags, all with the same pattern.” Even as she said the word saddlebag she remembered that saddle in the stable, with its edging of black and gold. And how Nicola had tried to hide it as she saddled…the…Ashua…
“…and Badger House wears white with brown braiding,” Leanne was saying.
“B-But her saddle was b-black,” Taya stuttered.
