The Reward of Anavrea

by Rachel Rossano

  “Let us see you get past this.”

  He touched the flame to a corner of the tapestry hanging to the left of the fireplace. Then with a maniacal laugh, he threw the torch at Jayne. It missed her skirts by inches and then rolled over to catch the bottom of the bed curtains. In seconds the room was full of panic.

  ~~~~~~

  As screaming women ran toward the door, Liam struggled to locate Klian, Jayne, or Lirth in the crowd. He assumed that the woman lying on the bed with a child in her arms was the Queen. He couldn’t be sure, but his quick scan of the room before interrupting the ceremony hadn’t revealed any pregnant women. His gaze lingered a moment on the small group that was carrying the woman and child toward the door and away from the flames engulfing the bed. They would make it out without a problem.

  Then glancing over to the corner of the room where he had last seen Jayne, he peered through the smoke.

  “Jayne,” he called.

  Someone jostled his shoulder to push past Liam for the door. Liam glimpsed Klian’s ornate uniform disappearing through the door. He would deal with him later, but first he had to find Jayne. A brigade of water carriers appeared, buckets and blankets in hand.

  “Jayne!”

  Another shadow emerged from the smoke. It coughed and stumbled, falling to its knees on the edge of the smoke. Liam leapt forward, disregarding the heat, smoke, and flame. As his hands closed around her slender shoulders, he knew he had found her. He tried to not breathe in the toxic fumes as he threw her over his shoulder and struggled to his feet. Kurios, don’t let her die.

  With his precious burden, Liam shoved his way through the rushing water carriers and out into the hall. Soldiers carried massive kettles up the stairs, two men to a kettle and sloshing liquid everywhere.

  “Where is the fire?” one of them asked Liam breathlessly.

  “The queen’s bedchamber,” he replied and continued down the stairs to the second floor. He then sought out an alcove where he could set Jayne down and check on her. The limpness of her limbs as he lay her on the floor scared him, but her shallow rasps of breath reassured him she lived. Please, Father, let her wake. He brushed the hair back from her face and was about to check her pulse when a cold metal tip settled against the back of his neck.

  “How touching.” Klian’s voice, hoarse from the smoke, grated across Liam’s nerves. “You are such an idiot; it is no wonder she prefers you. She knows that she can rule you, and you will follow. You should thank me for what I am about to do.”

  “Thank you for what? For killing me?”

  “Yes, not allowing you to stoop to the stupidity of caring for a woman.”

  Jayne’s head rolled to the side. A fall of dark brown hair fell across her cheek, and her eyelashes moved. Liam’s heart raced.

  “You have it wrong, Klian. I would be honored to love her, cherish her, and husband her for the rest of our days.”

  Jayne’s hand moved to her face, as Liam continued. “I love her, Klian. Even if you kill me right here as I kneel, you will never understand that concept. She will never love you, and she will never come to you willingly.”

  “But if I kill you, she will because I have her siblings, and you will be dead.”

  “You have nothing. Your little escapade back there guaranteed you a life on the run. You endangered the life of the Queen of Anavrea and her child, an act of treason and punishable by death.”

  “Then I am dead whether or not I kill you. Why shouldn’t I slit your throat right now?”

  The sound of a string being pulled taut came from behind them both and a new voice entered the conversation.

  “Because if you do, you will die a slow and painful death. I shall be sure to prolong your decline into death for a month.”

  Braxton’s low words struck home. The blade in Klian’s hand shook, pricking Liam’s skin. A trickle of blood coursed down his neck.

  A soft gasp brought Liam’s attention to Jayne’s face. Her dark blue eyes were open and watching his face with an unusual expression in them. The playing field changed. No matter what happened, Liam was not willing to let himself be executed while she witnessed it.

  Klian’s blade was against the left side of Liam’s neck. His body blocked Klian’s view of his sword and also the knife he kept in his boot. Slipping his hand to his ankle, Liam eased his knife from its place. He felt Jayne’s gaze following his movements. Hopefully she would be wise enough to not move.

  Suddenly the sound of running feet came toward them from the direction of the stairs. “Braxton, the King is trying to count...”

  Liam didn’t wait to hear more. With a quick prayer, he moved to his left, turned away from Klian’s blade, slid his knife from its sheath, and then buried its blade in Klian’s chest.

  The movement was so fast and smooth that Klian never reacted. He stared at Liam in obvious surprise for a moment and then opened his mouth but no sound came out as he fell to the stone floor.

  Carefully, Liam turned around so he still blocked Jayne’s view of the body.

  “Is he?”

  Liam ignored the question. Gathering Jayne into his arms, he rose and faced Braxton, continuing to keep her vision away from the body. “Where is the King?” he asked one of the young new arrivals.

  “Uh... in the main hall, sir,” the young man finally managed. “What do you want us to do with...”

  “I will tell you,” Braxton informed them. Turning to Liam, he said, “Get her out of here.”

  Completely agreeing, Liam started toward the stairs.

  “I can walk,” Jayne protested halfway down the last flight.

  “I don’t want you walking yet.”

  “Why...”

  “I am not giving you a chance to walk away again.”

  “I haven’t walked away from you.”

  “You have been walking away the whole time I have known you. I have something I need to say to you before you do it again.”

  Jayne fell silent. Liam hoped she was thinking about what he had said. He bypassed the main hall where Ireic was conferring with the commanders. Setting Jayne on her feet, but keeping a firm hold on her hand, he escorted Jayne through the corridor toward the kitchen gardens.

  ~~~~~~

  The evening was cool and refreshing after the heat and bustle inside the vargar. Jayne followed Liam as he guided her between the now empty rows of turned dirt. Imprinted in the soft earth were the tracks of many soldiers. It must have been the way that either some invaders or some defenders had entered.

  Liam stopped at the far end of the garden. There, nestled against the ivy covered garden wall, a long bench rested, rooted in the earth and covered with moss and clinging vines. He brushed off the seat and then indicated that he wanted her to sit. Still unsure what this was about, and shaking from the events of the last half hour, Jayne eagerly sank onto the sturdy slab.

  “I know that this isn’t exactly the best timing,” Liam began. He loomed over her and ran his hand through his hair. “But I love you. I have loved you for a while.”

  Lifting his eyes to regard her face, he smiled slightly. “I understand that you do not return my regard and may never return it, but my love will be there all the same, unchanging.” He lowered his gaze to the ground at his feet. “The king is leaving in a few weeks. He has a place for me in the south.” He waited a few moments as though he hoped for an answer. When she didn’t speak, he turned away and walked back toward the kitchens.

  Stunned, Jayne watched his retreating back. A storm of wild emotions, leftover from the events of the past day, tore through her. She had almost lost him today. She hadn’t expected the utter despair that consumed her or the sudden reality of never being able to see his face again or hear his voice. For some mad reason, she had clung to a hope he would return, despite all her self lectures and denial, the hope had lived deep in her soul. Then twice, once when she almost spoke the words of commitment to Klian and once when Klian was about to kill Liam, she had almost lost him forever.

&nbs
p; Stupid. She went through this before. Did she never learn? She loved him. He loved her. What was keeping her here, watching him walk away?

  Fear. The word echoed through her head. That one emotion controlled her life. First fear of her father, then fear of Klian, and now the fear that Liam would become like her father and Klian. Despite the evidence that lay before her, the fear lingered. She would have to overcome it, straighten her shoulders, take a deep breath, and face it.

  Decision made, she rose and picked her way across the uneven ground of the garden. She paused at the well to draw up a bucket full of muddy water to wash her hands and arms. The process brought the state of her clothing to her attention. She couldn’t approach Liam offering what she intended to, wearing a blood-encrusted dress.

  Wearily, she shook her hands dry as she walked toward the keep. She would go and change first. She opened the door only to have Urith plow into her from the other side.

  “Jayne!” He enclosed her in a fierce embrace. “Are you well?” He stepped back to assess her face. A layer of dirt and dust covered his cheeks. Jayne’s eyes were drawn to the gash only centimeters above his left eye, but a quick look reassured her that Liam had been correct. It was only a scrape. It would scar, but not glaringly.

  “Liam said that you were probably cleaning up out here. The King wants to see all of us in the great hall and Liam sent me out to clean up first.”

  “Jayne,” Ryana cried as she appeared at the open door. Her twin was on her heels. Both girls flung their arms around Jayne’s waist like they had when they were small. “I was so afraid that Klian would kill us.”

  “We all were,” Jayne responded, stroking Rowana’s soft fall of dark hair. “Where is Trina?”

  “With Patti in the kitchens,” Rowana answered.

  “Is the Queen safe?”

  “Yes, the King is with her and the princess. The princess is so sweet,” Rowana commented. “The Queen let me hold her for a moment.”

  “Yes, she is sweet.” Memories of holding each of them when they were that small flickered in Jayne’s thoughts. “And Oran? Where is he?”

  “The king’s healer was bandaging him up when I left.” Urith walked to the well and used the water that Jayne left in the bucket.

  “How bad is it?”

  “A nick in his arm. The healer says he will recover without a problem. And you?” Looking up from wetting his face, Urith gazed at her with eyes ten years older than his fourteen years.

  Jayne’s heart filled with tears. He now knew what it was to see death, something she had hoped that he would never experience.

  “I am fine.” Jayne dropped her gaze to Ryana’s upturned face and smoothed the worry furrows from her forehead. “The Kurios has spared us once again.”

  “God be praised,” Rowana responded.

  “Yes,” Jayne smiled weakly. “God be praised.”

  Chapter Twenty

  After a long meal in the great hall, during which King Ireic praised Jayne for her wisdom in protecting the queen, Liam ducked out before Ireic could elaborate on Liam’s foresight and intelligence at seeing the flaws in the raid reports before they had gotten very far from the vargar. He was doing his job, and it was hardly that commendable.

  As he strode into the welcome darkness of the corridor, his mind returned to its favorite haunt, Jayne. He traced over the events in the kitchen garden and tried to not berate himself for his bluntness. It was quite possible that blurting out his feelings that way frightened her off so she would avoid him for the rest of the short time that the king remained. He hoped with his whole being she wouldn’t.

  Somehow she had become a part of him. Her existence, even at a distance, was now essential for his peace and her presence for his happiness. If she avoided him and let him walk away, he didn’t know how he would survive. Once his life had revolved around his family and then it was his service for the king. Now, the center was Jayne and the world that played out its dramas on the stage of this vargar and its little village. Stepping out into the coolness of the night, he took a deep breath. What would he do if she didn’t seek him out?

  “Lord Tremain.” Jayne’s voice startled him. Twisting around, he came face to face with her. Her eyes widened at his sudden move, but she didn’t step back into the shadows. “We need to speak.”

  Liam didn’t answer. Stepping back further, he gestured to where the keep wall turned and a ledge offered a perch perfect for sitting. They would be hidden in the shadow cast by the moonlight, away from the prying eyes of any passersby.

  Jayne inclined her head and headed for the spot.

  “It is about what you said earlier,” she began, twisting her hands in her lap.

  “I am sorry I was so abrupt.”

  Jayne shook her head. “I understand.” Her voice broke. “I am frightened. It is nothing new. I have spent most of my life living in fear. I avoided my father, held people at a distance, and pushed those who would help, because I was afraid of what they might do to me.”

  “Some of your actions had just cause.”

  “Yes,” she acknowledged with hesitation, “but that did not justify my actions toward those who genuinely cared.” She studied her hands. “I guess what I am trying to say is that I return your affection, but I am afraid.”

  Liam’s breath caught in his chest. “You fear me?” he asked, dreading the answer.

  “It is irrational, but I do. I love you, trust you, and fear you.” Jayne lifted her face. The moonlight glinted off the sheen of tears on her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do.”

  The pain in her eyes tore at his heart. Before he thought about how she would react to the movement, he lifted his hand and touched her cheek with his fingertips. Her skin was warm, damp, and smooth.

  For a moment, she didn’t move. They sat suspended in time. Liam was afraid to move. He had gone as far as he dared. Then she closed her eyes and turned her face into his hand, brushing the palm with her mouth. Liam’s heart burst. Gathering her gently into his arms, he buried his face in her soft hair. There was hope.

  ~~~~~~

  Jayne waited for the nausea. Wrapped in the warmth of Liam’s strong arms, breathing the musky scent of his skin, she felt safe and secure. The steady thump of his heart near her ear counted off the moments to its cadence.

  “I am not hurting you?” he asked from somewhere close to her ear.

  Not trusting her voice, she shook her head.

  “Good.” She heard the smile in his voice, warm and loving. “You aren’t having second thoughts?” he queried.

  “No.”

  “Because I don’t want to pressure you.” He drew back slightly and lifted her face so he could see it. “I want this to be completely your idea.”

  Reaching up between them, she touched his mouth. “I am sure. I have to trust someone sometime, and I want to trust you.”

  “I will try to be worthy of your trust.” Capturing her hand, he kissed her fingers. “May I tell the King that he need not find me another place?”

  Jayne answered by leaning closer and resting her head on his shoulder.

  ~~~~~~

  The following week filled with preparations. Queen Lirth, Patti, and Madame Kerri insisted that Jayne have a wedding dress. The three of them spent every spare moment working on it to finish before the wedding at the end of the week. Ryana and Rowana tried to help, but hindered more than assisted.

  Repairs on the fire-scarred parts of the vargar keep progressed quickly under Braxton’s direction. The defeated men were released to their homes with notice they would hear from their new master, Lord Tremain, in the next few days.

  Liam spent every waking moment trying to make sense of Klian’s logbooks. As interested as the man had been in gaining wealth, he had been a very poor manager of the possessions he owned.

  Jayne’s days filled with cleaning up after the siege and keeping track of Trina. The six-year-old was banned from the kitchen after dumping a kettle full of stew all over the floor. Miraculously, she did
n’t get burned, but no one was happy with the meal of bread and cheese that evening.

  Oran recovered quickly, just as the king’s healer predicted. Within days he was challenging the instructions to not use his injured arm. The behavior lasted an afternoon. When Braxton caught word of it, he cornered the young man and lectured him. For the rest of his recovery, Oran meekly kept his arm in the sling.

  Urith, having gained his taste of battle and glory, returned to his world of books. Burying his head in tomes, scratching notes on bits of bark, and asking questions, he pursued the mysteries of the philosophers and left the tilting yard and the training exercises to his brother.

  Lirth took to motherhood as though she had done nothing else. Jayne taught her to care for the little princess, but Lirth learned quickly. Overall, Jayne watched more than instructed. A delightful child, dark haired and quiet, Trysta cooed and gurgled when awake and sighed when asleep.

  “She has her father’s nose,” Lirth mused as she traced the features of her child’s face with her fingers. “Ireic says she has my eyes.”

  The king was right. Trysta had her mother’s dark blue eyes, wide and bright, but unlike Lirth, the daughter’s eyes focused.

  “She does. What does your husband think of her?”

  “I love her,” the king announced as he entered the room. Crossing to his wife, he embraced her and kissed her forehead. “How has she been behaving?”

  “Beautifully as usual,” Lirth replied.

  King Ireic crossed to the cradle and crouched down to talk to his daughter. She cooed in response and punched the air. After whispering something, he slipped his large hands around Trysta’s small frame like an expert. Lifting her into his arms, he straightened. “Don’t look so shocked, Lady Jayne. I am a veteran uncle to two boys.”

  “Your brother’s sons?”

  “Yes, and he has another baby on the way. They are hoping for a girl this time. You see, Lady Jayne, the Theodorics love their children, whatever the gender.”

  “I am pleased to hear it,” Jayne replied. The king casually cradled Trysta in one arm and smiled at her.