Donnel's Promise

by Mackenzie, Anna

  ‘Very well,’ Goltoy said. ‘If none oppose.’

  ‘An amendment to the previous vote should be recorded,’ Barc said. ‘Havre’s vote was not legitimately cast and is therefore expunged.’

  Vormer’s nostrils flared. Goltoy looked as if he was weighing his options. The one he chose doubtless seemed the lesser of two problems. ‘Agreed. The vote stands at two to one. Let us move on.’

  There had been no pretence of seeking Quilec’s input. Lillet glided to Risha’s side, exchanged the jugs they held, and moved smoothly around the table filling the advisors’ goblets. When she reached Margetta the girl looked up. ‘I would rather water.’

  Lillet bobbed a curtsey and moved on. Risha walked the length of the room. Her back prickled, as if eyes bored into it. As she tilted the jug, she heard a sharp hiss of breath. Looking up, she found Timon’s eyes fixed on her own.

  Muir’s hand steadied hers. She looked down. Water was pooled on the table: she had overfilled Margetta’s goblet. She couldn’t think what to do. Without turning his head Muir guided her hand and set the jug on the table. His fingers were warm and strong around her own.

  The door opposite the servant’s entry opened and Harbin escorted Lyse into the room. Her gaze roved wildly; she looked like a terrified colt shown a saddle for the first time. When her eyes found Margetta she stumbled. Harbin bent his mouth to her ear and led her toward LeMarc’s empty chair.

  ‘Arishara, daughter of Donnel. The Sitting has voted and Donnel is expelled. Do you also denounce him, that you might take up LeMarc’s Seat?’

  ‘I do,’ Risha said. Every eye swung toward her. ‘And name my advisors Muir and Harbin. I claim also the seat of Havre, naming Ciaran my advisor. Do any deny my right?’

  Harbin’s expression shifted from shock to puzzlement.

  Goltoy sprang from his chair. ‘What is this? How dare you disrupt the Sitting?’

  ‘I am Arishara, daughter of Donnel, daughter of Cattra. And I lay before the Sitting a proposal that Goltoy be expelled for crimes against Havre, Fratton, Caledon and LeMarc.’

  The room exploded in uproar. Lyse looked as though she might collapse. Harbin gripped her arm, his eyes flicking around the room. Vormer glowered at Risha with loathing.

  ‘This is an outrage,’ Goltoy shouted.

  ‘Councillor Vormer,’ Risha said, ‘perhaps you might confirm my identity.’

  Goltoy’s head reared back, his eyes narrowing.

  ‘I confirm the identity of Arishara, heir to LeMarc and Havre,’ Margetta said. Her voice no longer quivered.

  ‘As do I,’ Ciaran added. Vormer lunged towards her but crumpled around his belly, collapsing back into Havre’s chair.

  ‘I demand recess,’ Goltoy bellowed.

  ‘Not before the business that lies before us is resolved,’ Risha said. ‘Am I recognised?’ No one spoke. ‘Good. Then let us vote on my proposal.’

  Goltoy had rallied. ‘There is first the matter of the new member from Elion.’

  One of the old men stood up. ‘Having duly considered the request, we recommend our colleague Kinnoc to the Sitting.’

  Risha felt a shiver of shock. Margetta cried out. ‘No!’ Her eyes were wide. ‘Kinnoc is a monster. He tortured me as a child, at Somoran’s behest. Do you deny it?’

  Risha followed her stare, but she had known him already, had felt his eyes on her back and probing at her mind.

  ‘Torture is such a strong word.’ Kinnoc stepped forward, his desiccated face stretched into a smile that was patently false. ‘Somoran bid me carry out tests, it is true. They may have been uncomfortable, but you were a most troubled child. Even now, I suspect—’

  ‘I oppose the appointment,’ Risha said. Striding to LeMarc’s chair she picked up the yellow rod and threw it forward on the table. ‘I cast my votes for both Havre and LeMarc.’

  Margetta slid a yellow rod to join it.

  ‘Kinnoc is opposed by a majority,’ Risha said. ‘Havre, Fratton and LeMarc.’

  The man’s rapacious eyes scoured her. And so we meet.

  Risha opened her mind to him.

  Ah.

  Then with all her force she slapped him down. Kinnoc stumbled back from the table, his head clutched in his hands.

  ‘Now the matter of Goltoy.’

  ‘I will not have it. This is a farce.’

  ‘One you engineered,’ Risha agreed.

  Goltoy made a signal with his hand and his bodyguards began to circle left and right around the table. Muir and Barc rose to meet them.

  ‘A vote,’ she said. ‘That Lord Goltoy answer for his crimes against the royal houses and be expelled from the Sitting on grounds of treason and murder.’

  Timon rose from the benches behind Havre, wrested from Vormer the rods he had snatched up and handed them to Risha with a bow. ‘My Lady Havre.’

  ‘Timon,’ she said coolly. ‘It is a surprise to see you here.’

  He acknowledged that with a small bow. ‘I endeavour to be where I can be of most use, my lady.’

  It was not the time to ask how he came to be in Vormer’s retinue.

  Risha placed two yellow rods on the table. Margetta added a third. Risha looked toward Quilec. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the rods as his eyes flickered round the room. At last he settled for the turquoise and slid it forward.

  ‘By clear majority of three votes against and one abstention, Goltoy is expelled from the Sitting.’

  The man exploded across the room, eyes wild, foam flecking his mouth. Risha saw the blade in his hand as he surged past Vormer. Muir sidestepped to meet him but there was no need. As Goltoy passed Thatton’s chair he seemed abruptly transfixed, his mouth rounding with surprise as he dropped to his knees. With a drawn out sigh of breath he collapsed face-down on the floor.

  There was a moment of stunned silence.

  One of Goltoy’s bodyguards broke it, charging to his fallen employer’s side. ‘He’s dead.’

  Ciaran was standing at his feet. ‘He killed my children,’ she said. In her hand a blade narrow enough to sit easily within a sleeve, or the handle of a parasol, dripped blood onto the tiled floor. She looked at Risha. ‘I would not have him kill you as well.’

  ‘Imprison her!’ Quilec shrieked. ‘Guards! Take her!’

  Men converged on Ciaran, hauling her arms behind her and wrenching the thin blade from her hand. She made no effort to resist them.

  Muir’s hand closed on Risha’s elbow. ‘Now would be a good time to depart,’ he said.

  She gazed at him, wide-eyed. ‘But—’

  ‘Now, Risha.’ He pulled Margetta to her feet. Barc was beside them.

  ‘Lyse,’ Risha said, and turned back.

  Lillet had the girl by the arm and was towing her toward them, past Harbin, who had dropped to his knees at Goltoy’s side. ‘He holds a dagger in his hand,’ Harbin said, his voice cutting clear across the noise.

  Muir towed Risha and Margetta toward the door.

  ‘Wait! We can’t leave Ciaran.’ Risha looked back. The woman was being hustled toward the door on the far side of the room.

  ‘We have no option.’ Muir’s voice was tense.

  Timon was pushing toward them, his efforts seeming to obstruct others looking their way. Barc shoved her through the doorway, his men falling in behind them.

  ‘This way.’ Lillet led them into a side passage. People had begun to converge on the hall. Someone shouted and there was a heavy thudding of feet as a group of swordsmen ran past.

  ‘What about Ciaran?’ Risha struggled against Muir’s grip on her arm.

  ‘We can’t do anything for her right now. There’ll be time later.’

  ‘Muir, wait.’

  He spun to face her, his gaze intent. ‘She took matters out of our hands. We can’t change it, Risha. Now come on.’

  She knew he was right. Still she felt dazed as they jogged along a series of passageways. When Lillet led them out into a courtyard, three men lounging against the wall came to wary attentio
n. Dropping her arm Muir reached for his sword.

  ‘They’re with us,’ Risha said. ‘Kern’s men.’

  Muir blinked in startled recognition and the guardsmen fell in at their flank. Lyse was sobbing quietly. Lillet had her by the shoulders.

  Croft and three more of Kern’s guardsmen were waiting by the small gate Lillet brought them to. ‘They really should keep this better guarded,’ Croft said, his teeth flashing in a feral grin.

  ‘It’s Quilec’s pleasure gate,’ Lillet said. ‘He thinks no one but his chosen guests know of it.’

  Word of the chaos in the palace had not yet seeped out into the town. They jogged swiftly through the streets, heading for the river docks rather than the harbour. Belatedly, an alarm bell began to toll from the palace. Another started up a little further away.

  ‘That’ll be Olli’s distraction at the wharves,’ Croft said. ‘Should keep everyone busy for a while.’

  At the docks Nolan was waiting. ‘Thank Sargath!’

  ‘Any trouble?’ Muir asked.

  ‘Not a whisper.’

  Risha touched Muir’s arm. ‘I saw you in a vision,’ she said urgently. ‘You were fleeing on horseback. Four men pursued you.’

  He shook his head. ‘It hasn’t happened.’

  ‘Which only means it will. You must take care, Muir. Promise me!’

  His mouth quirked at one corner. ‘My lady.’

  ‘Time to go,’ Croft said.

  Lillet was helping Lyse aboard Egret. Nolan had already untied the boat from her mooring.

  Risha hugged Margetta quickly. ‘You were wonderful, Margetta. I’ve never seen anything so brave.’

  The girl smiled.

  ‘Kern’s guardsmen will ride with you to see you safely home.’

  Margetta frowned. ‘What of your safety?’

  ‘Fenn is meeting us offshore and Kern will have men waiting in Churton. We won’t want for protectors.’ She kissed the girl’s cheek. ‘We’ll meet again very soon.’

  Nolan reached for Risha’s arm and bundled her on board. From Egret’s deck she looked back, and met Muir’s eyes.

  ‘They’ll be fine,’ Croft said, as he poled them away from the dock. ‘There are five Frattonese guardsmen as well as Kern’s lot. Horses are stabled two minutes away. They’ll be out of the city before Goltoy draws breath.’

  She stared at him, reality seeping through her. ‘Goltoy won’t be drawing breath.’

  Croft turned startled eyes toward her.

  ‘Go below, Risha. You should be out of sight,’ Nolan said.

  At the hatchway she glanced back. Barc was leading Margetta away, Muir still standing stiff and straight on the dock. She raised a hand, and did as Nolan bid.

  Epilogue

  Havre’s Lady

  Risha’s back had begun to ache. She arched her spine and eased a click from her neck. ‘Councillors, enough on this matter. We can’t resolve it today, and it will do no harm to think it over further. I bid you well till our next meeting.’

  There was a ripple of relief around the table. Everyone was tired, and the question of reparations highly vexed.

  Willart limped as he left the hall. He had recovered less well than some from his weeks in the castle dungeons. She would have encouraged him to retire had he not been so desperate to be of use.

  Aila, one of Risha’s new councillors, lingered.

  ‘You’ll be happy that your proposal regarding provision for orphans was approved,’ Risha said.

  ‘It’s a beginning. I’m relieved no distinction was made regarding which side their fathers chose.’

  ‘We cannot fairly be held accountable for our fathers’ actions if we have taken no part in them,’ Risha said, and felt a stab of remorse saying it.

  Aila nodded solemnly. ‘Similarly, Lady Arishara, I wondered whether we might address the question of widows. Some needy cases have been refused assistance while new settlers are given aid. Surely we must be even-handed.’

  Risha masked a sigh. She had quickly learned that her Council’s meetings had a tendency to last well beyond their official end. ‘Have you a specific proposal, Aila?’

  The woman earnestly began to outline it. Risha edged towards the door. ‘Place it before the next meeting — I’ll ensure time is allocated to discuss it.’

  A guardsman opened the door. In the corridor beyond, a courier wearing Fratton’s colours came hastily to his feet. He looked no more than fifteen.

  ‘Lady Havre.’ He made an awkward bow. ‘They said I wasn’t to disturb you till you came out.’ He pulled a packet from his satchel and held it toward her, arm extended as if he was afraid to step too close.

  Risha smiled and took it, quelling a small needle of disappointment at the sight of the duchal seal. ‘Thank you. You’ve come direct?’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  ‘Is all well in Fratton? How is the mood of the town?’

  ‘Very good.’ His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. ‘I have this as well.’

  The second pouch was slimmer, the seal Kern’s.

  ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Cal.’

  ‘Do you return immediately, Cal?’

  He straightened gamely. ‘If you wish it, my lady.’

  She stifled a smile. ‘What I wish is for you to go to the kitchen and find the head cook — Aila, do you think you could show him the way?’ she asked, buying herself a little peace in which she might read her letters. ‘Tell her I sent you, Cal, and that I said you must eat as well as a lord, and that after that I wish them to find you a bed. Tomorrow will be soon enough to ride home. Come to see me before you leave.’

  His smile transformed his thin face. In a few more years he would be collecting young women’s hearts.

  Lyse was sitting in their solar, her needlework abandoned on her lap. She looked up when Risha entered.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Tired.’

  ‘Have you thought about Harbin’s offer?’

  Lyse sighed. ‘I’m not sure. I like him, Risha. He was never unkind or … or worse. But—’ She broke off with a shrug, her hand resting on the newly noticeable curve of her belly. Her cheeks flushed. ‘Kahlen says he would raise the baby as his own.’

  Risha sat beside her. ‘I don’t doubt it. He’s a good man. But the child is Harbin’s as well as yours.’

  In truth it would be simplest if Lyse decided she was able to continue the marriage. Harbin was a worthwhile ally, and it boded well that he had made the offer. But if Lyse chose otherwise, Risha did not intend to try to sway her. The girl had sacrificed enough.

  Risha set the courier’s packets on the table.

  ‘Who are they from?’ Lyse asked.

  ‘Margetta and Kern.’ Risha slit the first seal and unfolded the letter within. She skimmed through then returned to the beginning to read it more slowly. ‘She says Kern and Lisbet have settled well, and that Treia passes the time by torturing half the men in the town. She sounds happier.’

  ‘Does she mention anyone else?’

  ‘Emett. They’re firm friends, as ever.’

  There was a brief, nasal sound from Lyse.

  ‘And Ganny has arrived. She and Margetta seem to have taken to one another.’

  ‘That’s lucky.’ Lyse’s tone was dry. ‘Did you ever meet Lady Westlaw? Imagine that for a mother-in-law!’

  ‘Or step-mother-in-law,’ Risha said quietly.

  Lyse’s mouth fell into an O. ‘I’m sorry! I didn’t think.’

  Risha shook her head. ‘No need, Lyse. I’m not my father’s keeper.’

  Rumours from Westlaw suggested that Donnel was spending a good deal of time in the company of Goltoy’s widow, and that their discussions covered more than the need to ensure that Rillon honoured the fragile truce that had been fashioned.

  ‘Do you think there will ever be peace?’ Lyse asked. ‘All the hurt that’s been done: can people forgive it?’

  Risha set the letter aside. ‘We must. It’s the only wa
y forward.’ She hesitated. ‘Can you forgive, Lyse?’

  The young woman looked at her steadily. ‘Not Vormer or Goltoy, but both are dead. There’s no one else I need forgive.’

  ‘It should be me married to Harbin and carrying his child.’

  ‘And if it had been, they would even now be tearing Havre and LeMarc apart. Would you take from me the part I was able to play in defeating them? And besides,’ her hand rested on her belly, ‘it’s not all bad.’

  Risha smiled, and returned to the letter on her lap. Margetta ended by saying she intended to send a present, but to LeMarc, so that it would be waiting Risha’s return.

  Whenever that might be. Risha sighed. There was so much to do in Havre, and none of it made easier by winter’s arrival.

  She picked up the second packet and slit the seal. There were two letters, the first from Kern with a note from Lisbet added at its end.

  ‘Lisbet says FrattonSeat is sorely in need of cheering up,’ she told Lyse. ‘She plans a festival for midwinter, with dancing and games, and a snow sculpture contest. She has sent to Caledon for performers and acrobats and fireworks. Cecily and Treia are to organise it — but not, I think, without their mother’s supervision.’

  Lyse’s brows rose. ‘That will keep all three occupied. Perhaps we should do something similar here?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Risha hesitated. ‘Would you like to organise it, Lyse? You could invite people of your choosing to help.’ It did not need saying that Verony would not be among them. ‘Aila might have ideas — perhaps the new orphanage could be involved.’ Risha paused to reflect. ‘It would need a theme.’

  ‘The five duchies? It could be a celebration of each. Havre and LeMarc, obviously, but there are also the soldiers from Westlaw who have chosen to remain here. Did you know that a dozen families arrived from Westlaw last week? And there are at least fifty hill people who did not return to Fratton with Kern after seeing you safely back to Havre. We might celebrate each group, and remind ourselves that we are all one people, still.’

  Risha sank back in her chair. ‘Lyse, that’s perfect! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.’

  ‘You can’t have all the good ideas.’