A Gift Freely Given (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 1)

by J. Ellen Ross

In the morning, no trace of Staval and his entourage of retainers remained. Leisha found it surprising and disappointing. She expected a bit more of a fight.

  ***

  Two days after arriving, rested and unpacked, Leisha asked Symon to guide her to the wing of the castle where members of her court worked. “I need to know what’s going on in my castle first and then in my kingdom. I think I would like to start with the finances.”

  This piqued the older man’s curiosity. Shola never paid any mind to the workings of the castle, much less the kingdom. He showed her to a long, frescoed hallway with doors leading off either side. A boy burst out of one, almost colliding with them and Symon asked where they could find the Master of Books.

  “He’s not available, my lady,” the lad piped at them. “He hasn’t returned from hawking yet.”

  “I see,” Leisha said, her voice full of disapproval. “Where are his assistants?”

  “Third room on the left, lady.” He was off again.

  She opened the door without knocking and Symon followed her in. The long room held two rows of tables for junior bookkeepers to work at. Today only five bent over their work, and it took several long moments for anyone to notice their arrival.

  “Ah, hello.” A man in his mid-twenties rose and walked towards them.

  Symon started to speak up, but Leisha cut him off. “Where’s your master, and why isn’t he here?”

  “Aron? He took leave a week ago to go hawking, lady…” he trailed off, unsure who he addressed.

  “Queen.” She drew the word out.

  The man’s eyes went wide. He and the other four bookkeepers dropped to one knee, all looking horrified.

  “So, he left knowing I was days away from arriving?” Leisha asked, the threat clear in her voice.

  The men fumbled for words.

  “Stop,” she said, holding up one hand. “Stop. I need all of the work you’ve done since this year began. Gather it all up, bring it to my receiving room. If you need assistance, get some. Bring clean paper with you.”

  ***

  “My books are incomprehensible,” Leisha complained after studying them overnight. “Incomprehensible and Aron goes hawking for a week? I have no way of making any of sense of them, much less knowing what I have coming in or going out. How do I know who is paying their taxes or what I’m making from any of my lands? Much less what holdings I have. I can’t even find a list of what lands I own. This will take months to sort out.”

  She stopped ranting and pointed at Symon. “The bookkeepers. I want them released immediately. Every one of them. Whatever the castellan’s name is, send him here.”

  Symon left and headed down the hall in search of a runner. In her voice, he heard a tirade ready to begin, but unlike her mother, he also heard restraint.

  An inexcusable amount of time had passed before Aniol knocked on the door to Leisha’s receiving room. She did not wait for the castellan to complete his half-hearted bow.

  “Aniol, I need you to sack all of the bookkeepers immediately. Then, I’ll need a few competent ones hired, five or six, no more.”

  “Your Highness, you currently have fifteen on staff, including your Master of Books.”

  Leisha rolled her eyes and blew out a long breath. It was a ridiculous number given the state of her accounts. “Of course I do. I should be able to make do for now with a much smaller set of junior keepers while I’m working on the accounts myself.”

  “Pardon me, but, my lady? You know how to keep the books?” he asked, not trying to hide his skepticism.

  Glaring at him, she said, “Yes, quite well. Now, Aniol. Go sack them, give them their pay through tomorrow and find me new ones.” After he had left, she turned on Symon.

  “I need an honest answer from you, and I’ll know if you’re lying.” She waited for him to acknowledge this. He nodded and swallowed hard. “Are you part of all this corruption and incompetence?”

  “No, my lady. I was your father’s butler and friend. No more than that.” It saddened Symon to see Leisha criticizing Davos, but he understood. Her parents had not done well by her.

  “Did my father not care about anything going on here?” She sounded perplexed.

  Symon considered. “In the beginning, he cared deeply for the kingdom. However, that was before even you were born. Your father was a gentle, quiet man, and the dogs you call lords beat him down. Then he saddled himself with your mother.”

  Leisha thought for a moment and sat considering her father’s butler. While she did not know him well, she felt herself willing to trust him, and she felt certain there was more to the man then he showed her, more perhaps than her father ever guessed. She needed competent people, people who cared about her kingdom. More than that, she needed men who would not just agree with anything she said. “Symon, who else here do I need to get rid of?”

  He looked alarmed. “Highness, I’m just a butler,” he pleaded, holding up his hands.

  “No, you’re not,” she said and looked him in the eyes. “You hide behind that title, but I don’t believe it. Name one person you feel is incompetent.” She felt his fear, fear he would say the wrong thing and she would fly into a rage. Just like Shola.

  Symon drew a breath, hoping his instinct was not leading him into trouble. “Your Master of Horses. He’s lazy and inept. Before I left to bring you home, there were four horses down with thrush from the filthy stables. I heard of several cases of colic and horses foundering. I assume nothing has changed.”

  Leisha nodded, pleased. “I’m exceedingly fond of horses, Symon. Call Aniol back.”

  Once again, Symon stepped into the hallway and snagged a boy running errands. He gave him his orders and a small coin. “Quickly now, the queen wishes to see him again. He’s likely walking back to the yard now.”

  In a few minutes, Aniol presented himself to Leisha again, looking harried and a little annoyed. His thoughts said he did not appreciate all the trouble she created for him today.

  Narrowing her eyes, Leisha watched the castellan, not happy with his attitude. “Please inform the Master of Horses his services are no longer needed.”

  He blinked at her. “I beg your pardon, lady? Did I hear you right?”

  “Pay him his last day’s wage for tomorrow and wish him well, Aniol. I’ll need a new one hired immediately.”

  Annoyance and anger flashed through Aniol’s mind. He was friends with the man, she saw. “Highness, it will take a long time to find someone of his skill. The horses will suffer in the meantime.”

  “Don’t lie to me or I’ll send you packing as well,” Leisha snapped, hating the smugness in his thoughts.

  Flustered, Aniol bowed without saying anything. He turned and left, but she heard his parting thought, clear as a bell. We’ll see about that. A hint of malice lay behind his words, but Leisha could not read any specific threat there.

  That seemed like an odd, pointed thought. She wondered if he expected someone here to speak up for him and added it to her list of things to check into. It seemed members of her household were not used to fearing for their jobs.

  Symon stood back and smiled at her. He was fond of horses as well.

  Meeting

  The great city of Lida sprawled along the coast of a large, deep bay. Blessed with calm seas and a temperate climate, the ancient Tahaerin capital prospered as a trade hub. Scores of ships passed in and out of the harbor all day, sailing up to the docks. As Lida flourished, it grew back from the harbor and up to the castle walls. Where Arnost basked in years of peace, Lida bristled with defenses. A tall wall encircled the whole of the city, pierced by five gates. Guards manned the gates and patrolled the streets.

  Branik Castle, huge and imposing, crouched between the harbor and the foothills of the Violet Mountains behind it. Easily the largest fortress Zaraki had ever seen, much less visited, he spent an entire day walking around the walls and loitering in front of the entrance to the castle. The main street ran from the harbor in Lida, through a series of fountained
squares and up to two towers standing on either side of the massive gate. Behind the gate lay a large courtyard with the buildings for the guards’ barracks, stables, a dovecote, and several other smaller structures he could not identify from this distance. A vast, sprawling stone building rose in the back, where the Tahaerin monarchs, their family, and household lived. Built to protect a king or queen, the castle reminded him of a single block of stone dropped from the heavens.

  As soon as he finished scouting, Zaraki found another dingy room to rent. One tira did not go as far here as it had in Kajetan, but at least he could eat real food for a week before panic set in again. Now he needed new clothes to wear to the castle. His were filthy and worn from the road, but he did not have the money for anything new. Resigning himself to stealing laundry, he promised to pay the owner ten times over if he got a job here.

  After procuring a tunic, vest, and trousers, he decided on a plan to spend at least three nights observing and scouting around the castle before presenting himself to the castellan there. Then, he would have a good understanding of the workings of Branik and if given the chance, would have some suggestions for improvements.

  The first night, he climbed onto a rooftop near the castle wall and tried to decipher the guards’ schedule. His training covered all different manner of patterns and timing. Huddling behind a chimney, he watched the nearby wall-walk for nearly an hour before he saw the first pair of guards. Two more hours passed before the second patrol made its way around the top of the wall, and he only saw a single man. Then, forty-five minutes later another pair of guards wandered along the parapet. They stopped together and turned, then put their backs against the wall and settled down to nap. Zaraki climbed down after that, not sure what to make of it.

  On the second evening, he moved to watch the guards at the rear of the castle. The walls ran to a bastion, the lookout tower standing on one side of the small postern gate. He found a narrow alley between two buildings and settled in to wait. Huddled under an old cloak, hood pulled over his head, he looked like any of the other faceless poor here. The bastion should have had lights in at least a few windows, but now they were completely dark. Perhaps the guards carried torches when their watch brought them this way.

  After three hours, no guards made any appearance, either in the tower or patrolling the walls. No more than a large doorway with a pair of iron-bound doors set into the outer wall of the castle, the postern gate should have been guarded. Staying in the shadows, Zaraki made his way down the street and across to the wall, then back to the gate. He pushed at the great wooden doors and they swung inward, not barred from the inside. What was going on?

  When no one came to inspect the open gate, he poked his head inside, hoping no one would lop it off. No one raised an alarm or offered any challenge. He closed the gate and left, confused and alarmed.

  The next afternoon, after thinking a great deal about what he had seen, Zaraki knew he needed information and a tavern near the castle where soldiers might stop in for a drink. At The Pig and Hen, he spotted two men in their uniforms eating lunch. He ordered food and went to sit near their table. This meal would cut into his funds, so he ate well, hoping it would keep him full until tomorrow.

  When he listened to their conversation, he heard a great deal of grumbling about the new queen and how she had sent her uncle back to his lands. Zaraki realized he knew next to nothing about this queen except she grew up in Embriel and returned to Lida on the death of her parents. Did she have allies here? Did she even know anyone? Worse, were the guards here loyal to her or this uncle? Did it explain what he had seen the last couple of nights? If the guards and staff were not friendly to her, they would never permit him to see her when he spoke to the castellan.

  That night he checked the postern gate and found it still unbarred. Thinking this had to be the greatest mistake of his life, he pushed it open again. Once inside, he stuck to the shadows, made his way around the perimeter of the courtyard.

  In the end, all his caution proved pointless. No one was about to challenge him. He saw lights burning in the barracks and heard the sounds of drunken men. He saw a few soldiers patrolling in the courtyard and along the walls but nowhere near the number one could expect in a castle this size.

  He found the exterior door to the kitchen and walked inside. The only light inside came from the banked fireplaces. Zaraki thought the cut of his clothes looked good enough in the low light that he might pass for someone who belonged in the castle. How far in would he be allowed to go? He considered the possible punishments, but something seemed off here, and he liked solving puzzles. What queen left herself this vulnerable? Unless a sixteen-year-old girl did not know how vulnerable she was.

  Zaraki stripped off his blades and wrapped them in his cloak. He stuffed them behind bags of flour stacked on the floor of the larder. If anyone caught him now, they might brand him as a thief rather than an assassin.

  Walking up out of the kitchen and into a small corridor, he saw storeroom doors lining the way in either direction. To his left, under the door at the end of the hall, light filtered in. He listened there and heard nothing, so he turned the handle. The door opened on to a large open area with carved doors at one end. Those likely led outside to the backyard of the castle. On the other end, great carved stairs rose along the wall, at least two stories above him. Zaraki guessed these led to the different wings, but in such an enormous fortress, finding the royal apartments would take time if he had to search every floor.

  By eliminating any of the wings with no torches lit, he managed to cut down his search time. Before him stretched a long hallway and behind each door lay a set of royal apartments. The first set of carved and metal banded doors seemed too masculine, with depictions of battle and even a dragon. Carved into the lintel over the door, he read, And they will awake angry, as dragons from sleep. A family motto perhaps. Swooping from one corner, he noticed the Tahaerin hawk. This seemed more likely to be the king’s chambers, and so he moved on.

  But after searching all of the other apartments, he found no evidence of a queen in residence. “Dragon room it is,” he muttered. He tried the doors with the dragon in flight carved into them and found them locked, which pleased him at least. If she was inside, someone cared enough to take some precautions. He pulled out his set of picks and went to work, thinking he could hear Aniska laughing at him as he struggled with the tumblers.

  When the lock turned, he stepped into a small room, which led immediately into a public receiving area. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw a door at the back of the room leading to a hallway. A thin strip of light flowed under a closed door.

  Zaraki wondered what he was doing. If felt monstrously stupid to invade the royal apartments of a sixteen-year-old girl this late at night. But something was wrong here, and it felt to him like someone chose to mislead the new queen. He hated bullies, and so he would appeal to her, hoping she did not call the guard the moment she laid eyes on him.

  ***

  Leisha sensed the intruder and froze. She sat reading, alone in her father’s sitting room, and now someone stood between her and the only exit. His mind flared bright in hers. Was this how Staval would take the throne from her? Now she wished she allowed her women to sleep in her empty bedrooms like normal noblewomen did. The novelty of living alone for the first time in her life was going to get her killed.

  Adrenaline flooded her as she felt him approaching closer, his mind as full of fear as hers. Leisha shook her head, trying to clear the fog and panic making it impossible to concentrate and hear his thoughts. Her fear made her angry.

  If he was already in her rooms, hiding did no good. Fine, she thought, drawing a nervous breath. She decided to meet him head on. Standing, she marched over to the door and flung it open, so it banged against the wall. The shaft of light from her fire did nothing to illuminate the dark corridor. “Before I kill you in your hiding spot, I’ll let you tell me who you are,” she said trying not to betray her pounding heart, trying
to figure a way out of this.

  The intruder’s mind felt flustered and chaotic, but not immediately hostile. “Peace, Your Majesty. I’m not here to harm you. Please, a moment?”

  A bark of laughter escaped her mouth, masking her fear. “A moment? For what? Be quick,” she demanded. “Your time is running out.”

  From around the doorway, a young man appeared with hands outstretched, both empty. He was dressed in dark clothes and black boots with dark blonde hair, a bit longer than was fashionable in Tahaerin. Tall and older than her by a few years, she thought he might be in his early twenties perhaps. Blue eyes met hers as waves of calming thought swept out from him—a deliberate if clumsy attempt that surprised her. He obviously knew something about her gifts.

  “I have a proposition, Your Grace,” he said, with an accent Leisha could not place. “I won’t harm you, so please consider what I offer. I’m a spy and a very good one. You need information and I can provide you with that.”

  A brave answer. “Are you armed?” she asked, hoping his thoughts would betray him.

  “No. I left everything outside.” It seemed true and he stood rigid, doing nothing to alarm her.

  Leisha shook her head, confused by this entire encounter as her heart slowed and the cold sweat across her back disappeared. At least he did not seem like a hired killer. “Tell me your name and what’s so important for me to know you couldn’t go through the castellan like normal people do.”

  “Zaraki, my lady. And the men guarding you aren’t yours,” he said. “I mean, they aren’t loyal to you.”

  Scowling, she asked, “How do you know?” Nothing she could think of pointed to problems with the men at the castle. But what did she know about the proper functioning of the castle guards? They defended her—that was their job. She never studied much of the specifics on how they went about it. And why did he care who the men were loyal to?

  “They aren’t patrolling, they sleep on duty, they left the rear gate unguarded last night, most of them are drunk and gambling right now. Tonight I entered not only the castle but also your rooms, unchallenged. I don’t know who they answer to, but my lady Queen, it isn’t you. Your life is in danger.”