A Gift Freely Given (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 1)

by J. Ellen Ross

  Zaraki could see relief replacing her anger as it dissolved away. “Yes, and stitched up my wound.” Grimacing, he leaned forward to show her all the bandages, clean and free of any blood.

  “I’ll send my private doctor to see you.”

  “Highness, I’m fine.” Zaraki struggled to sit up. “It’s not a deep wound.”

  “I didn’t ask how you were,” Leisha snapped at him. “What will you do differently next time? I’m sure you enjoy playing at being a hero, but you have responsibilities to me now.”

  Looking uneasy, Symon said, “Majesty, his job is dangerous.” He thought of all the times he tried to soothe wounded feelings after Shola raged at a room full of cowering women. Leisha needed Zaraki, and Symon hated to think of the boy leaving.

  “Yes, and his job is to keep me alive. He can’t do that if someone dumps his body in a ditch outside of town,” she said drawing out each word as if explaining herself to a dog or a child. A rare expression appeared across her face and she looked frightened. “I need you—I need you alive, Zaraki.”

  Holding up his right hand to placate her, he said, “First, I promise not to pick fights if I’m alone. I’ll be sure to take others out with me if there’s a chance of danger. I’ve seen a couple of soldiers who know how to handle themselves well, ones Andelko brought with him. We’ll need wages for them. And,” he said after a moment of self-reflection, “I’m going to start sparring in the yard with the soldiers.” It had been months since he had practiced. Sloppy.

  Leisha seemed satisfied with his answers. “Symon, can you take care of that? Pay them whatever he recommends.”

  “Of course, Highness.”

  She jabbed a finger at him. “Stay in bed, Zaraki. I don’t know how bad your injury really is, but I’m going to find out from my doctor.”

  After she left, both men looked at each other, relieved. Symon exhaled and scrubbed at his face. “Please don’t take her anger too seriously.”

  “It’s nice to be needed,” Zaraki assured the older man. “She’s right to be angry at me. Last night, I just wanted to pick a fight. I forgot my responsibilities.”

  “Her mother, Shola, was a—well, passionate isn’t a strong enough word. Davos, her father, was a quiet man who cared deeply about all of his people. It seems our queen has inherited some traits from both parents. She trusts you, which I think is hard for her. And she is only sixteen.”

  “It’s easy to forget,” Zaraki agreed.

  Symon paused. “You do know she can read your mind, right?”

  Nodding, Zaraki shifted again to find a comfortable position. “Along with most of Arnost, yes.”

  “Ah, that makes some sense, I suppose. People gossip. I knew it when she was tiny. We haven’t seen one born here in over a century. You’re not afraid of it?” Stories, good and bad, abounded about what mind readers could do before they were hunted and purged a century ago.

  “No, there are still a few in the east where I grew up.”

  The more they worked together, the more Symon liked the queen and her spy. “Once you choose the men you want to hire, let me know and I’ll arrange for them to be paid.”

  ***

  Leisha’s doctor arrived along with a maid who carried baskets of food, a pot of hot water for tea and a small paper-wrapped package. Zaraki regarded the little gift while the medic unwrapped his shoulder. Tugging loose the twine securing the bundle, he found a short note and an old, tiny book.

  I enjoyed this book of poems when I was trapped indoors. I hope you do, as well, Leisha had penned in neat, precise handwriting. It made him smile. His cool, aloof queen might have trouble trusting or opening up to her people, but she did care.

  Leisha’s doctor declared the stitches were acceptable and said the wound looked clean so far. He would be back each morning to make sure everything healed well and recommended three days of bed rest. “I’ll have to tell the queen, too. Sorry,” he said.

  As he left, the maid introduced herself as Hollia and let him know she would be staying until the doctor released him from bedrest.

  “All right, Hollia,” Zaraki told her. “If I’m trapped here, can you please go into the yard and ask Captain Andelko to send me two men, Jan, and Eli. I’d like to talk to them.”

  He also started thinking bigger. With most of Staval’s spies and agents rooted out of Lida, he wanted more. He wanted to build a network of spies across the kingdom to feed him information, to strengthen Leisha’s position with her lords and turn the tables on them. For that, he would need to make new contacts in other cities, a small army of agents listening, watching, and reporting back to him.

  Right now, he could not risk leaving Lida to put anything in place, but soon he could begin. At night, he still looked at his book of lists and tables, imaging what he could build with the resources of Tahaerin at his disposal.

  Coronation

  With summer winding down into fall, the sun and soft breeze often tempted Leisha outside. For their meeting today, she ordered servants to drag a table and chairs outside and called Symon and Zaraki to sit down in the gardens. She saw both men walking down the gravel paths towards her. Zaraki still favored his wounded shoulder from time to time, but her doctor assured her it had healed well.

  Together they ate lunch and when they finished, Leisha brought up the planning of her coronation and the first Convocation of her reign. With the castle under her control, she felt ready to host the nobles. The coronation would be the first chance for the Tahaerin nobles to meet and judge her. Symon explained the Convocation provided a chance for the lords to air their grievances with one another and have their monarch render a verdict. It all sounded delightful.

  As the only person Leisha knew to have witnessed a Tahaerin coronation, Symon proved invaluable. A list of requirements rolled off his tongue including a full choir, trumpeters, and a crown. Because they would send all the invitations for the coronation out under Leisha’s seal, he asked if she had considered what she wanted it to look like.

  “Of course,” she said. She had planned it as a child, as soon as she understood she would be the queen of a land she could barely remember. “A hawk diving, with a sword behind it.”

  Symon approved. Her family members often took the hawk as a symbol, though usually only the men used it. The sword spoke of command and power, instead of the common flower or herb women in the family usually chose. He thought it an excellent motif for a woman trying to rule a kingdom full of fractious, peevish noblemen. “I’ll put in the order with the craftsman immediately. The artist who carved your father’s seal still works in town.” The castle also needed banners and pennants sewn to match Leisha’s seal, and Symon volunteered to mobilize the seamstresses.

  “What do I need to know about the ceremony?”

  “Usually queens carry an arm of flowers. They swear to support their king and nurture the land, to bless their kingdom with strong heirs and to guard hearth and home while their husbands are away at war.” Symon paused, seeing Leisha’s face twist in annoyance.

  “So we’ll be scrapping the entire thing,” she said, her voice flat. “I won’t be carrying flowers, either. What are the other options?”

  “Kings wear a sword and carry a scepter,” Symon volunteered, knowing she would prefer this.

  “Much better. I’ll need both of those, then.” No one dared raised any objections. “I assume the King’s Oath is more palatable?”

  “Indeed, Highness,” Symon said, covering any unease he felt at her unorthodox choices. “A nobleman of your choosing will administer the oath to you, to uphold the laws of Tahaerin, to bring glory and honor to the land, raise strong sons and to rule wisely.”

  Leisha sat considering for a long moment before dismissing the idea. “No. It leaves an opening for whoever is giving the oath to make a scene. I’d be giving him a platform to speak against me while everyone is watching. No, I won’t give the opportunity to someone I don’t trust. I’ll recite the oath myself. I’m already queen and I have a
crown. I don’t need to be blessed.”

  Symon sat, horrified and proud. In a land where some traditions went back unchanged for three centuries, her intentions were scandalous. On the other hand, queens of Tahaerin were not traditionally teenagers and experts in bookkeeping and land management.

  Silent until now, Zaraki spoke up, “My lady, we don’t know all the players here. I’m concerned you may be walking into something we can’t control. Perhaps we need to rethink you being in there alone.”

  Leisha opened her mouth to speak and hesitated. She wanted to tell him she was queen and was not afraid, but she reminded herself she had decided to trust this man and asked for his honesty. A quick glance at his thoughts revealed a genuine concern for her safety. “Would you be content with watching the coronation from the arcade above, where the choir will be? And perhaps from the oriel window overlooking the hall for the Convocation? From there you could call for guards if anything happened.”

  Zaraki thought for a moment. “Yes, that would work fine.”

  Compromise, Leisha thought to herself and released the breath she held.

  ***

  With a week left before the Convocation, Leisha went to the library after lunch one day and lost track of time. She heard the great door creak open and saw Zaraki enter. Looking up at the high windows, she realized most of the day had leaked away.

  “Coming to check up on me?” she asked when he caught sight of her. One of Zaraki’s new men, Jan, had played bodyguard all afternoon, sitting in the far corner reading.

  “Actually no, my lady. I’m just looking for a book for tonight.” Zaraki nodded at Jan and the man rose and bowed, then went in search of food.

  “Oh. Well, it appears my father was quite a collector, so you should be able to find something to amuse you,” she said gesturing around the large room. “Take your pick.”

  He looked at all the papers and books lying out in front of her, “Studying tonight?”

  “Yes, I’m trying to get ready for the Convocation. I have so much to learn about my kingdom. It’s overwhelming. Look at all these.” She waved a hand at the table. “Ledgers full of taxes, maps of the kingdom, lists of my nobles and their holdings. They could bring up any topic. I have to be prepared.”

  “I can help you organize this,” Zaraki offered.

  “Can you? That would be very helpful.”

  He bowed. “Of course I can. You pay me for information. This would seem to fall under that.”

  They sat together for hours, pulling new books off shelves, creating piles and making notes. Finally, Zaraki stretched in his chair. “Can I ask you a personal question, Your Highness?”

  “Of course,” Leisha said, not really listening.

  “Your gifts,” he began, then saw her stiffen and suck in a breath.

  Her guard went up, her face shuttered. “Yes?”

  Too late to stop now, Zaraki went on, surprised at her reaction. “How does it work? Can you read anyone, anytime?”

  She listened to his thoughts, looking for any sign of fear or discomfort, but found only curiosity. No one ever really asked what she could do. “All right,” she began and closed the book in front of her. “I can only read minds close by. So right now, I only hear you when I listen. But imagine being in a room with twenty-five people all speaking at once. I can’t be selective and only listen to one person. Suddenly, it becomes a cacophony. It’s deafening. People imagine I walk around listening all the time, but the truth is, I’d go mad if I did that. Usually, I’m not reading anyone. Though, when I’m paying attention to something else, stray thoughts can sneak in.”

  Zaraki cocked his head, considering her words. “Can you speak to someone? In their mind?”

  “Yes, it’s possible. Then, I can hear their thoughts when they respond. But I don’t like to do it.” She did not tell him the only time she tried, one of her nannies screamed and tried to strike her. Guards came and took the woman away. Leisha never did it again.

  “Can you tell when people are lying to you?” He found her abilities fascinating and wondered what it would be like to experience the world as she did.

  “One on one, usually. They can fool me, but it’s hard. People don’t really think in words, most times. Instead, it’s images and emotions and memories. I can see those and compare them with what they’re saying. If I ask you what you had for breakfast and you answer eggs, but the memory in your mind shows sausage, well, I can guess you’re lying.

  “In a group, it’s completely different. Imagine the twenty-five people again. They’re all talking and two people on one side of the room are having a conversation. From the other side of the room, you barely hear one tell the other something. Would you be able to tell if he were lying? Would you even be able to hear what they were saying clearly?” Leisha shrugged. “It’s not perfect.”

  “It’s intriguing, though, my lady.”

  Leisha realized she had been rambling. She had never told anyone as much about what she could do. Uncomfortable but not knowing why, she stood up. “Thank you, Zaraki. You’re the first person to ever ask.” Then turning, she hurried out of the library.

  ***

  The morning of the coronation Leisha’s maids woke her early and began the process of dressing her for the all-day event. They first chose a gown sewn in black velvet with a blue silk forepart panel peeking out from the slash in the overskirt. Because rain threatened, she wore a hooded cape lined with matching silk fabric, embroidered with an intricate floral pattern. They left her hair unbound and loose to her waist, a sign of friendship in Lida.

  Before the first nobles and their retinues began arriving at Branik, she stood ready on the front steps of the castle. Since this would be the first time she met any of them, tradition left her to greet them here and exchange formal welcomes. Then, servants would show them to their seats in Velika Hall, where the ceremony would occur.

  Because the lords did not trust each other enough to leave their armies at home, they camped outside the city walls with their guards and retainers. When the first carriages rumbled up the road from the city gates, Leisha took her place on the steps with Symon behind one elbow. Serving as butler pleased him, and he would give her the name of each nobleman as he arrived. With so many people entering the castle grounds, Zaraki, Jan, and Eli would trade off bodyguard duties, ensuring Leisha was never alone.

  It took hours to greet each noble and commit his face to memory. By the time the last carriage deposited its passenger and servants escorted him to the pretty, formal Velika Hall, Leisha wanted to collapse. So many disapproving scowls and weak attempts at conversation. Exhausted, she stepped back into the entrance, where Zaraki met her and walked with her to the chamber her maids claimed for dressing.

  “So far, no disturbances, my lady. Everyone is behaving,” he said in a low voice as they walked together down the corridor. “Eli will stay with you while you’re dressing for the ceremony. Also, I ordered food for you.”

  When they reached the small room, Leisha could smell lunch. In a rare, unguarded moment she said, “That’s amazing. Thank you. Is there anything you need from me before I disappear inside?”

  “Go eat,” he said with a sympathetic smile. “I need to go change, too.”

  She found Eli lounging against a wall, talking to several of her women.

  “Highness,” he said and bowed.

  “Eat with me?” Leisha invited, hoping it might help settle her nerves.

  “Thank you. Been busy all morning.” Along with Jan, Zaraki had stolen Eli from Andelko when they expressed an interest in playing spies and bodyguards with him. Both appeared to be around Zaraki’s age and were built like him, tall and lean. Outgoing and gregarious, Jan often talked with her about castle gossip where Eli chose his words with care and rarely spoke more than a few at a time.

  Together, they ate from a basket filled with fresh bread, hard cheese and fruit. Best of all, warm sweetrolls lay at the bottom. Leisha ate enough to stay upright but not so much that her
women would need to let out her gown.

  A sharp knock at the door signaled the arrival of the dress she would wear for the ceremony. Two of her women carried it all in and Leisha worried again it might be too heavy for her. Made from one of her mother’s old gowns, she could only guess what Shola had worn it for. The bodice and overskirt were sewn from cream velvet edged with gold embroidery and pearls. It flowed behind her like a river. Sleeves tight to the elbows flared into long, dramatic, draping bells. A white damask, heavily embroidered, covered in pearls and diamonds, made up the forepart and insides of the sleeves. Along the neckline, a string of pearls draped gracefully. Eli turned his back and her maids helped her into it and then began the tedious process of fastening the hundred tiny, diamond-studded buttons running up her back.

  Two other women came forward to comb out her long, dark hair. After this, Leisha thought she would cut it shorter. She no longer had time for the constant care it required. They ran brushes through her hair until it shone and then began piling it up, pinning it with diamond-covered combs from Shola’s extensive collections.

  They opened the trunk containing her crown and, against all tradition, they set it on her head and fastened it with pins. Several days ago, she and Zaraki spent an entire afternoon in her mother’s rooms digging for something to suit the occasion. Shola possessed an impressive collection, and together they chose one covered in diamonds to match her dress. Now, it flashed in the sunlight filtering into the tiny room from the high window.

  Next, her maids pulled out the rapier and scabbard she had selected from her father’s things. Symon had found a craftsman in town to shorten the leather belt and ring hanger to fit her slender hips. He also changed out all the old silver hardware for new gold pieces to match her dress. When he brought it back a few days ago, he showed it to her and grinned, saying it was entirely inappropriate. Leisha loved the heft and feel of it as her women fit it so it hung low on her waist.

  At the bottom of the trunk sat the scepter she would carry. She scooped it up and admired the motif. On top of a jeweled orb stood a hawk with his foot on the neck of a rabbit. Just lovely and aggressive enough to suit her mood today.