by Greg Curtis
“We'll have him. He has a lot of things he wants to tell us.”
The Duke didn't respond to that. He just lay there feeling sorry for himself. But Baen grabbed him by the collar to make sure he watched the rest of the wedding. Not that there was much left to see. The priest was almost at the point of tying the ribbons.
And then he did and the Duke's head fell. Because in that moment he knew he had lost everything. The Queen had abdicated in that simple act and Grenland no longer had a throne. Whether it would have a Grand Court, Baen couldn't be certain. That was for the future to decide. He was sure the noble houses would bicker and fight about all the details of what would come until the end of time. That was their nature. But one age had passed. And good riddance to it, he thought.
“No! No more kings!” Barnly whispered in a self pitying voice.
“No. And praise the Lady for it,” Baen told him. “The Featherstones were a terrible Royal family. Each one worse than the last. You would have been a true monster.”
The Duke didn't answer. He didn't get the chance. Instead the sound of hoof beats made them all turn around. And then Baen groaned as he saw his Aunt Martha riding towards them, stark naked once more.
“Oh shite!” He turned away hurriedly not wanting to see all that flesh on display, and wondering just one thing – how could this be happening? Right now? And in broad daylight?!
“Baen dear! What a glorious day!” She raised her pistols and started firing into the air. “I feel so alive!”
“And I feel that we're paying that convalescent home too much! They seem to have a revolving door when it comes to patients!”
“What convalescent home? They discharged me! They said I was cured!” She fired a couple more shots into the air to prove how cured she was. “I'm home again.”
Baen groaned some more. How could they have discharged her?! She was anything but cured!
“Anyway, when I saw you and your lady love here –” she stopped in mid-sentence and addressed Nyri. “I'm sorry dear, but I don't think we were properly introduced last time we met. All those damned guards got in the way.”
“Nyri Lora.” Nyri nodded politely to her.
“Oh, that's right. And I'm Martha Walkerton, aunt to this reprobate here. You will need to keep a firm hand on him. He keeps playing with this magic of his. Very disrespectful of our family's station.”
“In fact –.” She waved her hand and Baen's illusion of flames abruptly vanished leaving him shocked. “I think he should stop it!”
Baen gasped. How had she done that?! Baen had never had any thought that his aunt – this one at least – had any gift other than the ability to drink copious amounts of wine. But then he thought, why wouldn't she? Madness and magic. It was the Walkerton way.
“But we can discuss that later. Now that I'm well again, I thought I'd invite you back to my home for an afternoon tea and you can tell me all about how you met and your plans for the future. And then we can discuss this unfortunate taste in clothing you both seem to share. Don't you know how to dress properly for polite society?”
This coming from an overweight woman riding stark naked through the middle of the city? But Baen was beyond wondering about such things by then. He was just standing and staring. And Nyri didn't seem that much better as she stood there like a statue, her mouth hanging slightly open.
“We'll be there,” he told her through lips that had almost forgotten how to work. “And thank you.”
“Good. Now why don't you come and give your poor old aunt a hug like a respectable nephew.”
“Ahh!” For a moment Baen was left almost helpless as he tried to think of something to say. Because there was no way he was hugging her when she was stark naked. But then it came to him.
“I'm sorry, but I don't think we have time. The guards seem to be heading this way.” He nodded in the general direction of the moving riot which was swiftly becoming a confused party.
“Damn!” She turned around to look where he was indicating. “Every time! Why can't they just let a poor woman go for a ride?! It's an absolute disgrace! I blame the damned Mayor!” Then she kneed her horse in the side, and was off, heading for parts unknown.
“You have such an interesting family!” Nyri told him with a cheeky grin as they watched the naked woman ride off. “I hope you aren't going to be riding around on that infernal machine of yours without your clothes!”
“I'll try not to! Besides, you heard her; the doctors said she's cured!” It would have been more convincing as claims went if she hadn't started firing her pistols off again just then.
“Come on. We'll go and drop this creature off at the Mission, make sure he's nice and comfortable in a cell. And then I'm going home for a long cold ale. You're most welcome to join me.”
With that he gave the Duke a good hard kick to his buttocks to get him to his feet, then looped his arm around Nyri's waist and they headed off. Hopefully, he prayed to the Lady, they would never have to speak of his naked aunt again. Or any of the rest of his family.
Chapter Forty Six
The sun was shining, and it was warm in the garden. Dariya had to admit that the Walkerton's new estate was a lovely home. Not just huge, but surrounded by walkways and outdoor patios each with their own set of furniture. This was a place where you could spend all day in the garden and never see anyone. It was just so large.
Of course, she had come with her husband. And what a strange thing that was she thought. But also something wonderful. She was sure J'bel felt the same. Certainly he never seemed to tire of escorting her back to the bed chamber whenever he could. But then she wasn't exactly complaining about it herself.
Sometimes she worried a little about that. Was it natural to play around so much? But since she felt alright and he seemed to feel the same, she had decided she wasn't going to ask anyone. Not until she had to. Maybe after the birth of their first child – the Lady knew, at the rate they were going, it wouldn't be long before she conceived.
For the moment though they were simply enjoying the morning. Drinking camomile tea and eating scones with jam and butter. The Walkertons were generous with their hospitality. Even after nearly three weeks of honeymoon they were making no noises about how the newlyweds should perhaps think about moving on.
Of course they were also mad. More so than she'd realised. Baen's grandfather Nicholas spoke to the dead – every day. Though J'bel assured her it was an actual gift rather than mere madness. Meanwhile his other grandfather Oliver, seemed to believe there were people hiding around every corner waiting to kill him. That wasn't any sort of gift. Especially when he had a bad habit of creeping around the estate, spying on people. Looking for assassins she guessed. But compared to Millie and Mortimer she supposed it was a minor thing. And at least no one had decided to strip off all their clothes and go riding. Still, some days it seemed to her that the family mostly consisted of a few souls in full command of their wits, trying to shepherd an entire wing of a mental institution through their lives.
The sound of a steam engine coming closer made her forget those details. Because she knew it could only be one person. Baen.
Dariya looked at J'bel and he looked back at her and both of them realised that they knew nothing about this arrival. But then they knew very little about anything lately. They'd read the papers and listened to the criers in the nearby town of Breston, but none of it made sense. And most of what was reported simply couldn't be true. Now after three weeks had elapsed she would have thought some sense would start to be revealed. Instead, the stories seemed to be getting wilder.
They'd worked out that the wizard of fire had to have been Baen, even if why he had cloaked himself in fire didn't make sense. And that their wedding in the sky had to be some sort of illusion. But stampedes, thunder in the ground, a war between the heavens and the underworlds – that was the stuff of madness. Or drunkenness – and people did drink too much. But surely those who were writing the news would have the good sense to remain sober? Ev
idently not. In fact the lead theory posted by one of the reporters was that Dariya and her husband had ascended to the heavens after the battle! The man was clearly deluded. He was probably a Walkerton!
“Should we go and greet him?” She looked at J'bel.
“We should wait a little perhaps. Give him the chance to catch up with his family.
It was a good idea she decided, as she took another sip of her tea. A few minutes grace would be a good thing. And the scones really were quite good. Dariya relaxed back in her chair and took another bite of the delicious, crumbling treats.
Half an hour later they walked over to the front of the house to join the others who were seated around three or four wrought iron tables while the servants rushed around with tea for everyone. And unexpectedly she found that Nyri had come with Baen. By the way they were holding hands she guessed that the two of them had become more than just travelling companions, Nyri would be good for Baen, Dariya decided. Baen was prone to doing wild things like falling off buildings and out of nets. She would keep his feet on the ground. And stop his loved ones from continually being told he had died.
They arrived just as the wizard was telling the story of his battle with the Duke. Surprisingly it was not well received. Every time he mentioned magic, and especially about his using it, his father started rubbing at his forehead as if he was in pain, while his sister Aribeth studiously looked at her feet. The message was clear. Respectable families didn't have magic. And they didn't talk about it either. That must have been a difficult thing for a boy with a powerful gift like his to have dealt with when he'd been growing up she thought.
But she was more concerned with the fate of her uncle, who had once more been branded and was locked away. But this time he had been sent to G'lorenvale to serve out his sentence. She strongly approved of that though she would have been happier if he'd died. Her cousin Richmond was also among the Fae along with the rest of the family – but he hadn't been locked up as he deserved. Instead he had asked for sanctuary with them, and since he was partly of their blood and had a gift, it had been granted. The former King knew he had no place left for him in Grenland. Estor and Metea were also both somewhere among the Fae in cells of their own.
Most importantly, there was no throne left for any of them to claim. Neither her uncle nor her cousin. That singular obsession had been taken from them, and without it she suspected, they would do no harm. They would do no good either. But without the throne they simply didn't have anything to aim for.
As for Grenland itself, it was in chaos. The throne was gone. Instead a whole bunch of ambitious noble houses were busy squabbling to become part of this Grand Council. Each was trying to prove that they were one of the thirty most powerful houses and disprove the claims of others. But that was alright. The realm had been leaderless before. It would survive. Laws would still be obeyed and enforced. Life would return to its time-worn ways. In six months or a year the Grand Council would likely be in place. They didn't need a king. Just time.
Meanwhile Baen was in the process of starting a new business. Selling books wasn’t a great business in the absence of customers. But he expected people to come flooding back in time. New people. Now that the city had an entire forest growing in the middle of it and people leaving in droves, he expected that new people would arrive. People with gifts who, thanks to King Richmond’s decrees, were now treated with suspicion. In short Baen thought that the heart of the city would in time become a sanctuary for those with magic. A place where they would be safe. And when they did start arriving they'd still want to read books – from his new library.
Everyone frowned when he said that. His family because he was talking about magic again. J'bel and Nyri because he was talking about books. They really didn't like them. For some reason the Fae believed that books robbed people of their ability to remember things. Dariya herself didn’t like the direction of Baen’s thoughts. Not because she had a disdain for books. Far from it. She simply didn’t like his plan to hide people away from the rest of the Realm. That wouldn’t end well, she was sure.
Still, that wasn't her concern. She had abdicated all rights to rule Grenland.
“So what are your plans now?” Dariya changed the subject before it became too difficult for her to listen to. “Have you started building your library?”
“In time,” he answered her. “But first Nyri and I are going to ride into G'lorenvale to meet her family. I have a question I need to ask them. After that I want to spend some time with Caris and her family.”
“A question?” Aribeth jumped in with a cheeky grin on her face. “Any particular question?”
“I was hoping they might have a cure for your condition!” He retorted while turning slightly red and making everybody laugh. They all knew what question he wanted to ask.
But it made Dariya think. Realise that she ought to do something similar, even if she was already married.
“You know, Husband,” she turned to J'bel. “It occurs to me that I've never met your family. You've met mine – and not a one of them would anyone want to see a second time save to make certain that the cell door was properly locked!”
“I'd like that.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “The ‘your meeting my family’ part,” he added hastily when he realised what he’d said was open to interpretation. “And I know they'd like you. They would want to sing with you.”
“I don't sing. But I think that since I gave up an entire kingdom for you, they might forgive me that failing!”
“You sing.” He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially in her ear. “I've heard you! You sing very nicely!”
Dariya giggled and turned a little red herself. She knew what he meant. And why he was whispering!
“I like singing for you,” she whispered back. But really, she didn't need to whisper. No one was paying them any mind. They were too busy listening to Baen and his sister sniping at one another. The two of them were quite witty.
“Anyway,” said Dariya, trying to be a little more serious, “I've spent more than a decade riding the border, hunting for incursions, and never once seen what's on the other side. I think I'd finally like to see it.”
And that was the truth. She wasn't a queen. She never had been. She wasn't a rider for the Order of Friends of the Golden Concord either. Not anymore. She was a wife. It was time to find out what that meant. Perhaps in time she’d become a mother too. Because that was a career she could enjoy. It would also give her something she'd been missing for some time. A purpose.
So as the others continued their friendly bickering and J'bel told her all about the other side of the border, she let a smile fill her heart.
Finally, after all this time, she could be happy.
