Duchess

by Nicolette Andrews

  “What is this?”

  “It is the diviner’s basin.” Tomas placed his hand at the base of my nape.

  I shivered. “There have been no diviners for a century.”

  “That is true, but their legacy remains. Do you know what they locked in the dark?”

  I looked away from the water. A creeping sensation was settling on me, and I wanted nothing better than to flee. “What?” I asked to appease him.

  “It is said they banished the first king beyond the veil. But what we know is that there is a great power hidden here, one that is waiting for us to unleash it.”

  “What sort of power is this?”

  “One that wins wars and makes kings.” He was standing over the basin, looking into the dark water. I was afraid to look, but I felt drawn to him. The torchlight had silhouetted his features as he gazed deep into the ebony water.

  “That is a powerful creature indeed,” I replied. There was a creeping sense of foreboding that latched onto me and would not let go; this was a haunted place. I felt fear clinging to my skin. This was an evil place.

  “I have a task for you as the newest member of the Order. You saw the army marching in the water?”

  “Yes,” I said in a hushed tone.

  “We’ve received intelligence that Neaux is set to attack within the next fortnight. We need you to take the royal family to White Crest to keep them safe. Can you do that?”

  “Even the king?”

  He smiled, and in the flickering light of the torch, he reminded me of the mask I had glimpsed in the water. “No, not the king. His Majesty would not bear to be parted from his throne. I need you to separate him from his queen.”

  “From Idella? Why?”

  “Because she is planning his assassination. She wants to put her daughter on the throne in place of Prince Adair. She wants to change the succession so she can rule as regent.”

  I felt fury churning in my gut like an inferno. “Is that why she had Artor killed?”

  “Yes. She wanted to keep him silent, and she would silence you as well, but we will do her one better. Take this.”

  He handed me a dagger with a decorative hilt inset with rubies and other semiprecious stones. I stared at the blade glimmering in the dim torchlight.

  “What am I to do with this?”

  “I think you know, Damara. You will take your vengeance for your husband’s murder.”

  Chapter Ten

  When I dreamed of returning to White Crest, it was not like this. I swayed in the saddle of my gelding. In front were a line of soldiers. To my right, the queen sat straight backed in the saddle. She wore a long gray cloak, which trailed over the rear of her mount. Beyond her were Princess Florian and her husband, Duke Jon Ilore. Their son Prince Adair—who was heir to the throne—rode ahead of me with my son, Layton, and Princess Sarelle, Idella’s only daughter. The children cantered ahead. A soldier in the blue and silver cloak of House Raleban rode beside them, ever wary for roadside bandits. Sarelle raced the boys for the lead, and the two boys had become fast friends. They were hard-pressed to keep up with the little princess. The wind was ripping through Layton’s hair, and the small tail I had helped him tie that morning was ripped loose. Sarelle’s golden hair rippled behind her like sunlight.

  I had imagined a triumphant return with Artor’s killer in chains or, better yet, dead, and I would return to raise my son and mourn my husband. Now I returned with the woman who had ordered his murder and the means to her death hidden inside my trunk.

  Idella had her own brother killed to keep him silent. Should I kill her? Did one life avenge another? I looked at Idella from the corner of my eye. She had said little enough on the journey, keeping her chilly silence to continue the charade. When it was announced that the royal family would travel north to White Crest, the queen made it seem she wanted to return to her maiden home and we had put aside our differences. If it were not for the cold silences, a bystander might believe her. Before we had left, I had spoon-fed her lies about the Neaux attack, enough to keep her compliant and unsuspecting. The dagger only seemed to wear me down like a lead weight around my neck.

  Reports that came to the palace before we left said the war was coming closer to home. A branch of the Neaux army had been spotted burning villages and crops a few hundred leagues south of Keisan. The reports had only hastened King Dallen’s resolve to send the royal family away: his wife, his daughter, his sister and her husband, their son, and his nephew, Johai. Prince Garrison had argued to leave the boy behind. He did not want him to leave his side. It was surprising seeing as how little attention he seemed to pay to the boy, but the king had insisted. Everyone must go but those that would remain and fight if need be. Johai was a strange child. He spoke seldom but when spoken to, and though the other three children spent countless hours playing along the road, he hung back, often glued to his Uncle Jon Ilore’s side.

  Princess Florian confided in me that Johai and Jon Ilore were close. Johai had spent some time at their country estate when he was a boy. The boy and his uncle had found a common interest in scholarly pursuits before Prince Garrison had taken him back with him to court.

  “The duke was never one for the sword,” Princess Florian had admitted to me. “He should have been a magiker had his father permitted it, but when his brother died during a tourney, he had to take over as heir to House Ilore.”

  I watched Johai as we plodded along. His pale golden hair was braided neatly, not a hair out of place. He held the reins loose in his hand, and he stared out across the ocean. Gulls were screeching along the coast. In the distance I could see ships coming into the harbor at White Crest. I’ll show Johai the library at White Crest. It may not be as large as the one at Keisan, but he may enjoy it.

  A horse cantered alongside mine, and I looked away from Johai. Hilliard smiled at me,. He rode past to speak with the captain, I presumed. He had changed his appearance since we first met. He had trimmed his beard, and his hair was clean and tied back. He wore mail and leather along with the royal crest across his chest, the silver tree upon a navy field intersected with the golden axe of Ilore. He had returned to Keisan along with the Ilore household. It seemed he had been assigned to Prince Adair’s personal guard.

  He was a strange choice for a guard. He had only just healed from his war wounds and still rode stiffly in the saddle. We had plenty of soldiers to guard us from bandits and rogues. We were separated from the war by leagues upon leagues, countless rivers and armies. We had nothing to fear from Neaux or the war, in White Crest. It was a safe haven.

  When we arrived at White Crest, the staff awaited us on the gravel lane that led up to the manor house. They were arrayed in a line; at the center was my seneschal and my housekeeper. Layton and Prince Adair were the first to jump down from their horses. They ran off shrieking into the foyer. Princess Sarelle made to go after them but stopped when her mother put a restraining hand upon her shoulder. The girl shot her mother a sullen look but obeyed.

  I greeted my seneschal and spoke with him on some matters of wool and barley trade. While I was getting caught up on household matters, my housekeeper led the guests to their chambers. The soldiers were given rooms in the servants’ quarters, and the royal family given the best rooms, including my own, which I turned over to Queen Idella and her daughter. When my seneschal was appeased, he left me on my own. Though I was tired from the journey, I could not rest. Guilt was weighing heavy upon me. Can I kill her? I hated Idella, but I was not sure I could drive a dagger through her heart while she slept. I tried to imagine the scenario in which I could find her alone and do the deed. If I slit her throat under my own roof, they will discover it is me, and then I will be tried for treason.

  I lay in bed, trying to rest before supper; instead I wrestled with my tormented thoughts before giving up on resting. I climbed out of bed to go for a walk. I went to the ramparts and looked out at the sea. The ocean was calm that day, and the breeze blowing off of it rustled my hair. It was well past noon
, and the sun was already making its descent behind the mountains, though it not quite touched the top of the peaks. It left ample sunlight falling on the water, which looked blue green in the late afternoon light. This is a moment’s respite. Soon I will have to return and face the task that has been set before me. I thought of the dagger locked in my trunk. I cannot do this. I am not a killer!

  “Your grace seems troubled.”

  I turned to find Hilliard staring at me. He had changed out of his armor and wore a plain tunic in brown with black breeches. His gait was still awkward, and he leaned on his good leg as he walked over to me. Seeing him again, I felt tainted. I was not the shy widow he had met in the Hall of Entertainment.

  “War troubles us all,” I said.

  “That is true, and you most of all, I expect.”

  I grabbed the stone of the ramparts. The stone had been smoothed by the sea, and it was warm from the sun. I studied the swirling patterns the sand and sea had made upon the granite before I answered. “Mayhap. What else do I have left to fear? My husband is already dead. What do they have left to take from me?” They can take my life for treason.

  “Much, I expect.” He seemed to echo my thoughts.

  “Did you come here to make me worry, sir?” I asked, half jesting. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. He was not smiling.

  “Even the best swimmer may drown if they swim out too far, your grace.”

  “Sometimes we must swim into deeper water to escape what is upon the shore.” If I do not kill Idella, then she will get away with murdering my husband.

  He chuckled, and the sound made my stomach flutter. He never did claim his kiss. He won the match, and I never saw him again after that. “Why did you leave court?” I asked.

  “The king asked me to guard the young prince; I could not refuse my liege’s orders.”

  “A convenient assignment that let you escape my questioning,” I teased. I knew the truth now, and what Hilliard could tell me made little difference.

  “Aye, it was.”

  I frowned at him. I did not think he would admit the truth. He was a puzzle. He was pensive, staring out across the harbor and to the ocean beyond. He shielded his eyes from the sun and squinted.

  “What is it that you are studying so intently?” I asked.

  “I see a ship on the horizon.”

  I laughed. “This is a busy trading port. It is not uncommon to see ships coming into the harbor; it happens quite often, actually.”

  He dropped his hand and looked at me. The look in his eyes scared me. “Yes, but I am sure few sail in fleets with crimson sails.”

  I felt the blood rush from my face. “Neaux—but how… they are not seafaring people. I’ve never even heard of them having a navy!”

  “Well, either they do now or someone is playing a cruel jape. I saw the rearing stallion flying from their mast.”

  I squinted at the horizon. There was indeed a ship coming into the harbor. In fact, there were several of them coming at a quick speed. I could not make out the standard with the banner flapping in the wind.

  “We have to gather the small folk. The soldiers will raise the town when they get here. It’ll be easier to defend them if they are all in one place,” Hilliard instructed.

  I was busy counting the sails. There had to be at least half a dozen ships. I was no seaman, but my father had a fleet of trade galleys, and those needed at least twenty to man properly. These ships dwarfed those.

  “How many are there?” I whispered.

  Hilliard grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. “It does not matter. You are in charge here. Protect your people, send soldiers down into the village, and bring the small folk here. We will defend your home.”

  I was in a daze. This cannot be happening. We are safe here.

  “Do you hear me?” he asked.

  “What can we do? We don’t have enough men to arm properly. The battlements are in ill repair, and the walls could be easily breached.”

  “We’ll fight to the death if we have to. Artor wanted me to keep you safe, and that’s what I intend to do.”

  I whipped my head towards him; everything came into sharp focus. “Artor told you to keep me safe?”

  “Aye, your grace, now come with me. We have a manor to defend.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The house erupted in a stream of chaos. Hilliard shouted commands to men who hopped to obey; even the captain of the guard King Dallen had sent ran to do Hilliard’s bidding. I felt as if I were walking through pudding; everything around me was moving in slow motion. The men were armed from the vault beneath the castle with decorative swords that had belonged to generations of House Florett past. Some of the blades had spots of rust. A few would not even come loose from the sheath. Others took maces and axes that were double the length of a man’s arm. They were relics of the past. No one had used them as weapons since the time of the first king, I suspected. The men of the household were given the option to arm themselves, and many of them did, except for the infirmed or elderly. All hands were put to work building hasty barricades out of furniture in case the invaders broke through the gates that led into the estate. There were three different gates: one was made of wood; the other two were made of iron and were more decorative than made for security.

  I helped push furniture in front of the doors that led into the parlor and grabbed whatever could be used as a weapon—candlesticks, old family busts—and armed the women.

  “In case it comes to the worst,” I told the maids as I handed them blunt objects.

  Hilliard shouted for some servants to barricade all entrances; then to me he said, “Take the woman up to the second floor. Barricade yourselves inside along with the children. Don’t come down no matter what you hear.”

  “What about you?” I gripped a candlestick tight. What happens if they get inside?

  “Don’t worry about me. The men can hold them off.”

  I took his hand and squeezed it before hurrying up the stairs. I went first to Layton’s nursery to collect him, but I found it empty. I tried not to panic. He was playing with Adair. They must have heard the alarm and joined the others. I went in search of our guests. I found Princess Florian and Jon in their chambers. Florian was in a panicked state.

  “Duchess, have you seen Adair? He’s gone missing. We heard the alarms, and when I checked his rooms, he wasn’t there.” Her face was pale, and her eyes bright with tears. Her husband had an arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

  “I’m sure he and the other boys are somewhere around here. Please stay in your room; I’ll go and look for them.”

  I left, my heart pounding in my chest. I went to Johai’s room; he was missing as well. Where are the boys? Where could they have gone? Panic was rising as I stumbled from room to room, throwing open doors and searching under beds and in wardrobes. They were all missing.

  The garden, he must be in the garden. I ran down the stairs and out one of the last open doors; people from the village were running towards the castle, looking for asylum. They were terrified. A woman shushed a crying child in her arms, and I pointed her towards the house all the while looking for the boys among the stream of villagers. He would not play out here if he saw the villagers, would he? A young man was helping his grandfather, who was wobbling and shaking on his feet. The villagers were practically trampling him to get inside.

  I looked down the road where they were coming from. Smoke was billowing into the sky, thick and gray, choking the air. Beyond that I could see the ships, seven in all, anchored in the harbor, their red sails flapping in the wind and the banners with the proud stallion of Neaux rearing. This has to be a nightmare. I’ll wake in my bed, and all of this will have been a bad dream. I turned away from the village road and went to Layton’s favorite place in the oak tree. What greeted me were bare branches, the fall was upon us, and the leaves had fallen onto a carpet on the ground. The bare branches were stark against the sky gray with smoke. Where could they have gone? I s
pun around in a circle, helpless and worried.

  I went back to the house; they had to be there—where else could they have gone? The villagers were running to the manor now. I could hear screams carried on the wind, and the smoke was only growing thicker and getting closer. I could have imagined it, but I thought I heard the ring of steel upon steel. This was supposed to be a safe haven, a way to escape the war. When had it gone all awry?

  Inside, all the doors had been barred; villagers were only trickling in through the castle gate. Anyone who was still outside either would not come or could not come. I found Hilliard directing groups of villagers, arming the men. I grabbed him by the shoulder.

  “My son, Layton, Prince Adair and Johai are missing. Have you seen them?”

  Hilliard shook his head. “We will find them; don’t worry. Maybe they’re playing down below somewhere and they did not hear the shouts and the alarm.”

  I thought I might weep for fear. What if he went outside the castle gate? Please, goddess, do not take my son from me as well.

  “Mama!” Layton ran through the door, the prince heir hot on his heels.

  Tears burst forth, and I grabbed him and held him in my arms. I squeezed him hard. I did not want to ever let him go. He sniffled and nuzzled his face into my neck. I pulled back and visually checked him for wounds. He seemed unscathed though a bit shaken. “Where have you been?” I asked, my voice thick with tears.

  “I took Adair and Johai to the shore. I did not think there would be any harm in it… then the ships came… Mama, I am so sorry,” he cried. Prince Adair was watching me with a guilty expression, but Johai was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where is Johai?” I asked.

  “He was right behind us,” Adair said and then looked at his feet “And then he wasn’t…”

  “The boy was left behind?” Jon Ilore had come down the stairs. He looked to his son and then to me.