by Morgan Rice
The captain looked as though he might argue, but then nodded. “It will be as you say, your majesty. This is… it is very brave. I just hope that it will do all that you wish.”
So, looking at the oncoming fleet, did Sophia.
CHAPTER TEN
Angelica selected her appearance that morning with the care a soldier might have taken strapping on armor. The truth was that it played the same role. The right appearance would protect her then, while the wrong one would see her dead. It should have been a thought that terrified her, but instead, Angelica felt a thrill of excitement at it.
She chose mourning black, but shot through with the opulent red and gold of royalty. Her dress was severe enough to emphasize her authority, without doing anything to make her look less beautiful. That was one weapon she would not blunt. Angelica splashed water on her face to make it look as though she had been crying, settled the queen’s crown on her head, and walked the short distance to the Assembly of Nobles.
Guards and attendants surrounded her for the journey. She could see their fear and their confusion. She could even understand it, when cannon fire cut through the air in the distance. Angelica ignored all of it. That battle for Ashton could only come once she had won the bigger battle, for the kingdom.
The guards there opened the doors automatically as she approached, revealing the crowd of waiting nobles, officers, and more standing in the chamber, arguing. Angelica took a breath, steeling herself for what was to come, arranged her face into a picture of determined grief, and stepped forward, toward the throne that sat at its heart.
“Milady,” one began, then corrected himself, “your majesty… please, we must speak with King Rupert. The city is under attack!”
Angelica looked around, trying to judge this perfectly. This moment would define everything that followed.
“That will not be possible,” she said. “My husband… my husband is dead.”
The room fell silent for a second save for the gasps of those closest. Immediately after that, it erupted into noise.
“Dead? Did she say that the king was dead?”
“This must be a joke!”
“What is happening?”
Angelica ignored the questions, walking very quietly and very determinedly toward the throne. About halfway there, she feigned the faintest of stumbles, and an older general with a graying beard steadied her. She had to appear shaken by Rupert’s death, or people might start asking the wrong kinds of questions about how he had died.
She straightened up as she reached the throne though. She didn’t want to look weak. Angelica looked out over the crowd, then very carefully set herself upon the throne.
“My husband killed himself last night,” Angelica said. She had considered putting it down to the attacking fleet, but that would imply that their enemies could harm them wherever they were. “What should have been the happiest day of my life has turned into the saddest.”
“King Rupert killed himself?” a courtier called out. Angelica recognized him as Harold, Earl of Hurnby. She knew all of them there. “He gave no sign!”
“Didn’t he?” Angelica countered. “I was as shocked as you are now. I have spent my time trying to make sense of it, and… I realize that I missed many signs. We all did.”
General Sir Philip Vers was shaking his head. “Even so, this is most—”
“Irregular?” Angelica interrupted. “Surprising? Shocking?” She put the faintest of quivers into her voice. “Do you think that there is a single thought going through your head now that I have not had? When he did it… I have spent the last few hours staring at him, not knowing what to do.”
In fact, she’d spent her time writing letters and giving quiet orders, but it was better if the men there didn’t hear about that.
“He gave no sign of this,” Lord Emmersthal said.
“Didn’t he?” Angelica countered. “We all know that Rupert’s behavior has been… erratic for a long time.”
She gave them time to mutter among themselves, saying all those carefully phrased things to their neighbors that didn’t quite include the words “utterly mad.” Was there anyone there who hadn’t suffered as a result of Rupert’s actions? Angelica’s hope was that even the ones who hadn’t suffered directly had heard the stories.
“Haven’t we heard the way he burned his own lands to drive back the New Army?” Angelica said. “Haven’t we heard of his excesses, his changeability? And he has been… worse, since his mother’s death. I thought that if I became his wife as he wished, I might be able to bring him back to himself. Instead…”
She sat there with her head in her hands for several seconds, because she suspected that was what a grieving widow ought to do. Besides, it gave each member of the Assembly of Nobles time in which to think of all the ways in which Rupert had harmed them, all the evidence of his madness and cruelty.
“Last night, when he had married me, he seemed so happy,” she continued. “We… consummated the marriage, and he seemed at peace for the first time in a long time.”
That would fit with what they recalled of the day. That much was important. It was also important that they understood that the marriage had been consummated; that there would be a child in time. There would be, even if Angelica had to take a string of lovers to make certain of it.
Or, she thought, thinking of Sebastian, perhaps just one.
“Things went wrong then,” Angelica said, loud enough that all those gathered there would hear. “He started talking about how this was the only perfect moment that he had. He started to confess things that he’d done in his life… such things.”
She didn’t have to feign the disgust that crossed her face.
“And he said that he wanted things to end for us while everything was still perfect. He gave me wine, and it was only when I smelled it that I realized something was wrong. He planned to poison us both!”
That got a gasp from the assembled noblemen.
“He drank the wine in one gulp,” Angelica said, “and tried to get me to drink mine. I refused. I thought he would attack me, but the poison… he died too quickly.”
“And you did not call for help?” a noble demanded.
Angelica fixed him with a level stare. “And if the royal guards heard someone calling for help from Rupert’s room, do you think they would respond?”
She fell silent then, letting it all sink in, letting them think back to all the rumors they’d heard about their dead king, all the things they’d so carefully ignored over the years.
Lord Gerald Nasbrough stood up. “This is distressing news,” he said in a voice that didn’t seem to have much distress in it at all. But then, the man was a politician. “We have only just crowned our new king. To lose him so soon is a grave blow for the kingdom. My lady, thank you for your story. We will have the servants escort you home while we decide what to do next, and—”
Angelica stood, shaking her head. “Not, ‘my lady,’ Lord Nasbrough.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Angelica paused for a moment before she said it. “I am not your lady. I am your queen.”
The uproar after that was predictable enough. Indeed, Angelica had predicted it, but she still looked around to note exactly who seemed to react most strongly to the idea.
“Gentlemen,” she said, lifting a hand. “Does anyone deny that yesterday, I married your king? That I became his queen, crowned by his own hand?”
She waited for someone to say the inevitable. Lord Nasbrough obliged.
“Typically, this chamber has a role in approving such things,” he said. “After the civil wars, it was agreed that the Assembly of Nobles would not be gainsaid.”
“Who said that I wished to?” Angelica countered. “I am happy for there to be a vote, because I believe that you are all reasonable men here. You will see that my claim is well founded, and that I would make a good ruler for this land. Who would the alternative be?” She gestured in the vague direction of the docks. “Some girl who
wishes to give the kingdom back to every witch in it? Sebastian, who even now stands accused of his mother’s murder? We could have someone else from the lines that have brought so much conflict to this country, or we could take this opportunity to unite legitimacy with new blood, to have a ruler who you know will act in the interests of this realm’s great families, because she is one of them, one of you.”
She could see them looking thoughtful, now, considering what she’d said and where they all fit into it. They probably thought that it would give them a puppet.
“Of course, I do not call for a vote now,” Angelica said. No, that would be too soon. Let them have some time for the idea to sink in, first. Let her have some time to bribe the ones who needed bribing, pressure the ones who needed to be brought to heel. “I am not Rupert, to ignore the threat at our very gates while I try to secure my power.”
“And what of that threat, your majesty?” General Vers asked. That he called her that made Angelica smile. People could be so easy to persuade sometimes. “There is a fleet at our gates, fighting on the outer streets!”
“Everything is in hand, General,” Angelica said. “An… ally provided us with information about the attack last night, and we have acted to deal with their worst tricks. I have personally used my family’s money to call in reliable men to crush this foe.”
“Free companies, you mean?” the general asked.
“Of course,” Angelica said. “I would not presume to raise a standing army without the Assembly’s consent. But I ask you to act now. All of you have men, whether they are guards or mercenaries, true companies or simply retainers. I ask you to commit them to the fight, not hold them within the inner walls.”
“King Rupert—” one man began.
“Forgive me, my lords,” Angelica said, cutting the man off, “but my late husband didn’t understand the dangers of this situation. I think you all do.”
How many rulers had stood in this room in times of war, speaking to men like these? How many had sought to inspire them to action? Angelica could feel herself drawing inspiration just from the thought of it.
“For too long, we have been a country riven by the conflict between the Dowager’s family and the Danses. For too long, they have fought each other, and we have been the ones to pay the price for their wars. Well, no longer! Commit your forces, gentlemen. Send them out against these Ishjemme scum who seek to invade us, the way their ancestors did with longship and axe. Together, we will crush them, and afterwards, we will build a new kingdom!”
A kingdom with her at the head. Briefly, it occurred to Angelica that any woman who got her power through her marriage was a dowager. The thought amused her. Perhaps she would even take the title. For now, though, there was a battle to win, and once she’d won it, no man here would question her.
“I know what you see before you,” she said. “You see a woman caught in grief. A woman who has never commanded. Well then, I will not command. I will ask. Will you stand and defend your homes against these invaders? Will you commit the full might of your forces? Will you help to crush these foes who are trying to rip the kingdom back to what it once was? Will you?”
There was no need for a vote then. The sheer volume of the cheer was enough. Angelica basked in it. She had almost everything she wanted. Only the deaths of her enemies remained.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kate heard the trumpets that sounded the advance, and she crept forward, moving silently through the outer city beyond the old walls. Around her, Lord Cranston’s men and a company of Ishjemme’s soldiers moved too, under the direction of her cousin Hans. Kate could feel the tension rising among them as they tried to stay unseen for as long as possible.
She could make out the others there. Lord Cranston was near the head of his band of mercenaries, directing them with well-rehearsed signals that even Kate followed, fitting into the whole smoothly. Will was with one of the cannon, helping to drag it forward for the moment when they would come up against resistance. Kate could make out Cora, Emeline, and Aidan, who should probably have stayed back with the ships, but were there anyway. Perhaps they felt that they had a part to play still in the war.
“Get back inside,” Kate said, as a woman poked her head out of one of the houses nearby. “It’s not safe out here.”
The woman quickly darted back, bolting her door. Kate’s powers let her sense the fear there: that this invading army would sack the city, burn her home, or do worse. Kate wished there was more time to reassure the people there, but they couldn’t exactly announce their presence when—
The boom of a cannon cut her off, roaring ahead. Stone shattered as the ball struck, and a plume of smoke went up, obscuring everything ahead of her.
“Ambush!” Kate yelled as muskets started to sound. She saw a soldier go down and managed to drag him into the cover of a doorway.
She couldn’t see Will, she couldn’t see Lord Cranston, and now fear of what might have happened to them rose in her, replaced by a determination not to stand still, not to wait as more cannon sounded.
“Don’t just stand there!” she yelled to the others. “Fight!”
“Where?” a man called back to her. “Where are the enemy?”
Kate could help with that part, at least. She reached out with her mind, picking out the jumbled thoughts ahead, separating the people huddling scared in their homes from the soldiers.
“That way,” she said, pointing. She drew her sword and ran forward, ignoring the whistle of the musket fire around her. Men roared their battle cries as they charged forward with her, and Kate kept going, determined to see them through the chaos to safety.
Not all of them made it. She saw a man fall, looking shocked as a musket ball struck him. Another went down beside her, and Kate found herself hoping that her friends were all right. She didn’t know what had happened to Will, or Lord Cranston, or Hans in the first seconds of the battle. She just had to hope that they were safe.
Ahead, Kate heard the thoughts of a cannon crew loading cannon shot into their weapon.
“Everyone down!” Kate yelled, throwing herself flat. The men around her did it without question, and a cascade of musket balls ripped overhead, fired from the weapon. Kate was on her feet in an instant then, charging forward, barreling into the crew of the enemy artillery.
She cut one man down, spun to block a sword thrust from a second, and punched a third in the face. She might not have the speed that had before let her cut through swaths of foes as if they weren’t there, but she still had the kind of skill that came from dangerous practice. She felt the heat of blood on her skin as she cut down another of the enemy, and now the other soldiers of Lord Cranston’s regiment were there with her, fighting as a unit, pushing into the houses where the enemy had hidden themselves.
More foes came down side streets, and Kate threw herself into the chaos of it. She saw a spear thrust coming in time to dodge it, moved around it and heard the gasp as she lanced her blade through the man’s throat. She spotted Lord Cranston and Will now, fighting close together even though Will was supposed to be safe with the artillery. Kate started to fight her way toward them.
She saw barricades ahead, there to slow their forces down. It seemed that the enemy had known which way they would be coming, because the barricades closed off the streets neatly, leaving no room to advance.
“We can’t let them trap us here,” Kate called out to the men around her. “Up! Use the rooftops!”
The men didn’t seem to get the idea until Kate started to climb, using the kind of route that she and Sophia had used when they’d been keeping away from those who would have tried to drag them back to the House of the Unclaimed. She dragged herself up onto a roof, running toward where Will and Lord Cranston were fighting pressed up against one of the barricades below.
Kate saw a soldier advancing on them, drew a pistol, and shot from above, bringing the man down. She and the others with her started to scramble down on the far side of the barricade, plunging into the he
art of the violence. She landed in a crouch, the stink of the black powder and the violence almost overwhelming.
She threw herself forward, her sword lancing out toward an officer. He parried the blow, then cut back at Kate so she found herself forced to duck. Her sword swept out, catching him across the abdomen and bringing him to the ground.
Lord Cranston and his men pushed through the first layer of barricades. Will was there, and Kate went to him, throwing an arm around him. If she hadn’t had a sword in the other, she might have done more than that.
“When I couldn’t see you, I thought… I thought you might be dead,” Kate said.
“I was more worried about you,” Will replied. “I knew you’d be off looking for the worst fighting.”
“The fighting’s not done,” Lord Cranston reminded them, pointing to where the old walls of the city stood. From here, Kate could see the barricades reinforcing them now, the banks of sand and earth that would help to absorb cannonballs. Perhaps they’d been begun to help keep out the New Army when it came, but it would slow them down just as much.
There were enemies coming to meet them, too. Men marched out, wearing the uniforms of mercenary companies and noble houses, taking up positions in the streets to try to counter the assault.
“This was supposed to be the easy part of the battle,” Kate said with a bitter smile. She knew that there were no easy parts to battles, no places that were truly safe.
“You should know by now, Kate, that the mercenaries never get the easy jobs,” Lord Cranston said. “Will, run to the artillerists and get those cannon up here to start attacking the walls. I’ll go and see Hans to see if we can coordinate with Ishjemme better.”
“I have an idea for that,” Kate said.
Emeline, she sent, can you hear me? Are you okay?
I’m here, Emeline sent back. Cora has a cut on her arm, but we’re fine.
