“I’m going mad,” Darilyn snapped, surprising Riika with her bluntness. “I want to go home.”
Laran didn’t seem surprised. He smiled and turned to his brother. “What about you, Mahkas? Are you going mad with the altitude too?”
“I’m ready to go wherever you send me, Laran.”
Mahkas couldn’t hide the hope in his voice. He’d been looking forward to Laran’s arrival almost as much as their sister, Riika thought. He was bored with nothing to do but think up ways to keep the troops fit in case it came to war. He wanted to head back to Cabradell. Riika knew he was convinced Laran would need his help governing his new province and was already making plans to bring his fiancée, Bylinda Telar, to Sunrise Province from Krakandar, rather than delay the wedding any longer. Mahkas’s plans worried Riika a little. Laran had never said anything about giving Mahkas control over Sunrise, and she was afraid that if Laran didn’t plan to do what Mahkas imagined, he would be even more disappointed than he had been when Kagan read out her father’s will after the funeral and he’d realised Glenadal had left his stepson nothing more than a couple of horses and his fond wishes for the future.
“Good,” Laran said, sounding a little relieved. “Because I want you to stay here a little longer.”
“Why, for the gods’ sake?” Mahkas asked. “Nothing has happened. Hablet got pissed off when he heard the news about Marla, beheaded our ambassador and that was the end of it. He’s not going to invade us. I don’t need to be here. Our troops don’t need to be here.”
“Still, I’m keeping them here a little longer.”
“And what about Sunrise?”
“What about it?”
“You need to get back to Krakandar, don’t you?” Mahkas reminded him. “If the farmers in Medalon wake up to the fact that two-thirds of our troops are guarding the Fardohnyan border and not their border, there’s not going to be a cow, a sheep or a goat between the Border Stream and Krakandar City safe from their raids.”
“I’d rather lose a few head of cattle to some Medalonian farmer than underestimate Hablet of Fardohnya, Mahkas. I need you here.”
“Who’s looking after things in Cabradell?”
“Mother is there. She’s more than capable of administering the province during my absence. She had as much say in governing it as Glenadal before he died. I don’t see why that needs to change.”
“You’re just going to leave a woman to run a whole damn province?”
“She’ll have my seal.”
“That woman is your mother, Mahkas,” Riika pointed out, a little offended by what he was implying. “Surely, you don’t think her incompetent?”
“Of course not,” he replied uncomfortably. “It’s just not right . . . a woman governing a province.”
“Two women, actually.”
“What do you mean?” Darilyn asked Laran.
“I’m sending Riika home. It’s her province, really. I’m just minding Sunrise for her until she’s old enough to choose a suitable consort to rule by her side. She can’t do that if she doesn’t know the first thing about administering the province, can she now?”
Mahkas stared at Laran in shock. “You’re going to send Riika home to govern Sunrise and leave me here twiddling my thumbs?”
“It won’t be for more than a few months. Until the end of summer, perhaps. If Hablet is going to make a move, he’ll do it before then. He wouldn’t be foolish enough to attempt a winter offensive. I don’t want him sitting over the border just waiting for us to withdraw because we think he’s no longer a threat to us, only to have him pour over our border in the summer.”
“But that’s insane!”
“Why is it insane?”
“Well . . . for one thing, you’ve got too many troops tied up on someone else’s border. Our men belong in Krakandar. If you want to keep Winternest secure, then fine, secure it. But do it with Sunrise troops. Send Chaine up here with his men and let the rest of us go home.”
“I’d rather keep Chaine in Cabradell,” Laran explained.
“Why?”
“Because he doesn’t trust him,” Riika surmised, thinking in Laran’s place she would do exactly the same thing. “Laran wants to keep Chaine Tollin where he can watch him. Isn’t that the case, Laran?”
“Not exactly . . .”
“I don’t blame you, you know. I don’t trust him either.”
Her brother shook his head, but didn’t contradict her.
“And what about me?” Darilyn demanded. “I’ve had enough of this place. I’m desperate to return to civilisation.”
“You can go home.”
“Then you think I’m no longer in any danger?”
“I never thought you were in any danger in the first place, Darilyn. If you want to go back to Greenharbour, go. I’ll send you with an escort if you wish.”
“Am I not to be invited to Cabradell to meet your new bride?” Darilyn asked stiffly.
“I thought you were desperate to return home.”
“What’s she like?” Riika asked, before Darilyn could add anything further. “Is Marla pretty?”
“Very.”
“Is she nice?”
“She seems that way.”
“Does mama like her?”
“I suppose.”
“I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Well, she’s waiting in Cabradell,” Laran reminded her with a smile. “And just as anxious to meet you, I suspect.”
“Have you got her with child yet?” Darilyn asked.
“Darilyn!” Riika gasped.
“Don’t look so shocked, Riika. We all know that’s the only reason he married her. That’s what all this is about, you know. Our Laran is going to father the next High Prince.”
“You still shouldn’t talk like that,” Riika scolded. “You make it sound so . . . tawdry.”
“It is tawdry, Riika. Because the truth is that it wouldn’t matter if Marla Wolfblade looked like the back end of a horse and had the intellect of a ground slug so long as she has a functioning womb. Isn’t that right, brother?”
Mahkas was trying to hide a smirk that Riika thought rather tactless under the circumstances. Laran’s expression grew thunderous. He seemed about to say something they all might later regret.
“Well, I don’t care. I’ve always wanted a real sister,” Riika said hurriedly, without thinking, in an attempt to head off the trouble brewing between Darilyn and Laran. On hearing Darilyn’s snort of disgust, she added apologetically, “My own age.”
Darilyn wasn’t fooled. “Yes, well, that would be so much more fun than the sister you’re burdened with now, wouldn’t it?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, forget it, Riika. Go home to Cabradell and be best friends with Marla Wolfblade, for all I care. I’m going back to Greenharbour where at least I have civilised friends. As for you two,” she added, looking at her brothers, “I really don’t care if I see either of you again in this lifetime.” Darilyn rose to her feet, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders and, with a regal toss of her head, walked away from the hearth towards the doors at the end of the hall.
“Does your desire to have nothing more to do with your brothers extend to not accepting any further funds from them?” Laran called after her.
Darilyn stopped and turned to look at him. “Of course not.”
Laran nodded contemptuously. “I thought so.”
“You’re a bastard, Laran Krakenshield.”
“Only when you’re being a bitch, Darilyn.”
Darilyn turned away from him and continued towards the door, leaving Riika with the bad feeling that she was, yet again, going to be the one who made peace between her warring siblings.
chapter 46
M
ahkas managed to keep his anger hidden the whole time he was with Laran, Darilyn and Riika. If anything, Darilyn’s dramatic departure gave him a chance to deal with his feelings at Laran’s dismissive attitude.
He’s
sending Riika back to Cabradell!
Mahkas couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he had been passed over again, this time in favour of his sixteen-year-old half-sister. Laran wanted Riika to learn how to administer the province, did he? What about his only brother? What about the man who was waiting in the wings, ready to step up and answer the call? The man who needed only a nod in the right direction to take up the career he was destined for?
Where is the return on my investment? The payoff for years of unwavering loyalty to you, Laran? To Krakandar?
Unable to tolerate the thought that he had been overlooked yet again, Mahkas made his excuses and fled. With command of the garrison still in his hands, he was able to escape the hall easily enough while Laran and Riika played catch-up on all the news since they’d seen each other last. He pleaded numerous duties to attend to and hurried across the chilly bridge between the north and south arms of the castle, down the stairs to the customs hall and straight across to the bar at the end of the room.
“Captain!” the barkeep called as he spied Mahkas approaching. “The usual?”
Mahkas nodded, accepting the tankard. He downed its contents in a single gulp then slammed the tankard down on the bar.
“Another?” the barkeep asked with a slightly raised brow.
“Another.”
The man obliged, handing Mahkas a refill which he tackled with the same desperation as he had the first tankard.
“Drinking to ease your thirst, Captain? Or trying to forget something?”
Mahkas looked around at the man who had spoken. It was the slaver who’d been drinking with Grigar Bolonar a couple of weeks ago. He was sitting in exactly the same place at the table by the fire, as if he hadn’t moved in the past fortnight.
“Not that it’s any of your business . . . but I’m drinking to celebrate.”
“A celebration?” the slaver asked curiously.
“I’m celebrating my ongoing posting to Winternest. The arsehole of Hythria!”
Symon Kuron smiled. “Just passing through, then, eh?”
Mahkas stared at the merchant for a moment and then laughed sourly. “Very funny. But I’m stuck here. You’re the one who’s just passing through.”
“I would have thought you’d be honoured, Captain,” the Fardohnyan remarked. “Guarding your High Prince’s sister is nothing to be ashamed of.”
Mahkas turned and leaned against the bar. “You really do think it’s Marla in the keep, don’t you?”
“I’m not a fool, Captain. You have the southern wing of this keep more heavily guarded than King Hablet’s harem. And guarded with Krakandar troops, I notice, not Sunrise’s own forces. And now Laran Krakenshield himself is here to visit. Say what you will, Captain, but I can draw my own conclusions.”
Mahkas picked up his tankard and walked to the table. He should probably put the slaver out of his misery and simply tell him who Riika was, but he wasn’t feeling particularly generous this evening. Besides, Riika’s presence, while not exactly a state secret, was still not something Mahkas wanted bandied around. Laran’s reasons for sending her here to Winternest were sound, even if he had now changed his mind and decided to take her home to Cabradell.
“And what if it is Marla Wolfblade?” he asked curiously, taking a seat opposite the Fardohnyan. “What would you do?”
“Me? Why nothing, Captain,” Symon Kuron assured him innocently. “If I wanted to make myself a rich man, however . . .”
“I never met a Fardohnyan merchant who didn’t want to make himself a rich man,” Mahkas noted sceptically. “What are you on about?”
“The insult done to our king when your High Prince married his sister to a Warlord was most heinous, Captain,” the merchant pointed out. “The man who was able to help our great and beloved leader redress such a grave insult would be looked upon most favourably at court.”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
“Let’s just say that there are certain . . . shall we say . . . interested parties, who would pay a great deal to get their hands on Marla Wolfblade.”
“Well, that’s not very likely, is it? She’s not even here.”
The slaver nodded, tapping the side of his nose with a knowing smile. “Of course, Captain. I understand.”
Mahkas shook his head helplessly. No matter what he said, the man refused to believe that anybody other than Marla Wolfblade was currently resident in the southern arm of the keep.
“I’m curious, Trader Kuron. Suppose these interested parties of yours managed to get their hands on Marla. What exactly would they do with her?”
“Ransom her back to her husband, of course,” Symon Kuron replied. He seemed astonished that Mahkas had even had to ask. “Or to the High Prince. Whichever has the most money, really, so I suspect it would be Laran Krakenshield rather than Lernen Wolfblade. There is no question that our King would want her for any other purpose. Not now that she’s been married to another man. But the financial arrangements to secure her return would go a long way to easing our King’s grief over this matter.”
“I’m sure your King will get over it eventually,” Mahkas said, rising to his feet. “Without the need to kidnap anybody.”
“You know, the man who made such an arrangement possible, would find himself quite richly rewarded, Captain.”
Mahkas looked down at the man in surprise. “You’re not suggesting I might aid you?”
“Of course not, Captain! I would never think of insulting you so! I was merely speculating on the opportunity for some young fellow with limited prospects to make a moderate fortune. Enough, perhaps, to set himself up free of his . . . family’s . . . charity?”
“You’ll find no such man here,” Mahkas claimed. The trader was dreaming. Who in Hythria would do such a thing?
“Of course not,” Symon Kuron replied, clearly sceptical. “It was just an idle thought in any case.”
Annoyed by the trader’s smug assumption that a traitor might be so easily found in the ranks of his men, Mahkas glanced down the hall to where the on-duty guards stood near the customs table. He snapped his fingers in their direction then turned to the slaver with a contented smile. “Well, you’ll have plenty of time for idle thinking behind bars. I’m arresting you, Master Kuron, for plotting to kidnap the High Prince’s sister.”
“You can’t arrest me for what I was thinking!” the slaver complained as the guards surrounded him.
“No, but I can arrest you for saying it aloud,” Mahkas replied. “Get him out of here,” he ordered the soldiers, and walked back to the bar for another ale as they dragged the loudly protesting slaver from the hall.
By the time Mahkas returned to the hall much later that evening, Laran and Riika were both gone. Darilyn was there, however, collecting her embroidery basket. She looked up when she heard the doors open.
“They’ve gone to bed,” Darilyn announced, tucking the basket under her arm as she straightened. “Which is where I’m headed, too. I have to start packing in the morning. And I have to arrange for my harp to travel with me. I’ll not make the mistake again of entrusting it to somebody I don’t know.”
“You’re going back to Greenharbour then?” he asked.
“It’s bad enough that I have to live on Laran’s charity, Mahkas. Unlike you, however, I don’t feel the need to stay around and have my nose rubbed in the fact.”
“Laran’s never rubbed our noses in the fact that we live on his charity,” Mahkas pointed out, even now feeling the need to defend his older brother.
“He doesn’t need to, Mahkas. His mere presence is all it takes. I can’t touch a rivet of my sons’ inheritance and he knows it. He doles out a living to me a piece at a time, making me beg for every morsel.”
“He doesn’t make you beg, Darilyn.”
“Oh, yes, he does. Not openly, perhaps, but he’s got me dancing at the end of his strings, just like you.” When Mahkas didn’t answer, Darilyn knew she’d hit the mark. She smiled knowingly. “He’s really got to you,
hasn’t he? Leaving you here in the middle of nowhere while he takes Riika back to Cabradell to learn how to rule the province that could have been yours if only you’d thought to suck up to Glenadal a bit more when he was alive. Gods, how that must hurt.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mahkas scoffed, surprised at how close to the truth she was.
“Riika’s always been everyone’s favourite, you know,” Darilyn continued mercilessly. “Mother loves her best. Glenadal thought the sun rose and set in her. And Laran was prepared to send thousands of our own troops into the mountains to protect her. He wouldn’t have done the same for you or me.”
“They all think it’s for Marla,” Mahkas remarked.
“Who thinks that?”
“The Fardohnyan merchants who pass through here,” he explained. “Most of them don’t even realise Laran has a younger sister. They all think the blonde girl in the southern keep is Marla Wolfblade. I just arrested a slaver who suggested I could make a fortune handing her over to the Fardohnyans so that Hablet can ransom her back to Laran.”
Darilyn stared at her brother thoughtfully. “How much?”
“How much would the ransom be?” he asked. “Gods! How would I know?”
“No, I mean how much is a fortune? How much did he offer you for the girl he believes to be Marla Wolfblade?”
Mahkas stared at her in shock. “You can’t be serious!”
“Think about it, Mahkas. You’re stuck here guarding the Widowmaker Pass while Laran ignores your years of loyal support for the sake of a spoiled sixteen-year-old girl. You’ve backed him without question since we were small children and he’s repaid you by kicking you in the teeth. I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of it. I’m fed up with living on his mercy. With enough money, we could both be free of him.”
Her words were an eerie and disturbing echo of the slaver’s suggestion.
“Dead isn’t exactly the type of freedom I had in mind, Darilyn. And that’s what would happen to us. Laran would kill us both.”
“Only if he knew we were involved.”
“I can’t believe you’re standing there suggesting we hand our own sister over to the Fardohnyans!”
Wolfblade Page 30
