A Gift Freely Given (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 1)

by J. Ellen Ross

Standing still in the center of the dais, her hands clasped in front of her, Leisha waited again, staring down at them until they quieted. With no anger in her voice she said, “Lord Petr, you’ll keep the peace in my Hall or I’ll strip you of all your titles and lands, here and now. As you’ll be a commoner, I’ll throw you in my dungeon for trespassing.” She paused and let the rumble of angry murmurs rise and fall. “Then, I’ll march my army on your lands and tear down your homes and castles. I’ll burn every possession you own. I’ll divide your lands into five pieces and give one scrap to each of your neighbors who bring the most troops to assist me. I’ll seize your six children and send them each to monasteries in the furthest kingdoms I can find, where your name will never be whispered and you will be forgotten.”

  Silence. A pack of dogs indeed, she thought again. Always ready to exploit a weakness and sensing blood, they turned now to look at Petr, some thinking how much of his land they could take.

  “She’s trying to turn us against each other,” someone in the crowd whispered.

  “Indeed, I am,” Leisha admitted with a shrug. “So I hope, Lord Petr,” she continued, watching him across the space separating them, “that any neighbors you have offended are listening.” Looking up, she surveyed the assembled nobles. “You’re all used to having a common enemy in my father. He was a weak man and easy to rail against. You won’t find me so easy a target. I’m not afraid and I am not my father.” She kept having to say that.

  “If there’s no further business, I call an end to this Convocation.” Whatever else the nobles might have planned to discuss, they kept quiet now.

  From behind the lattice screen above, Zaraki and Symon both cheered silently, grinning at each other. For a girl staring down a room full of grown men, she showed a spine of steel. “She’s clever and fearless. If you can keep her alive, my friend, she’ll be the king her father never was,” Symon said, clapping Zaraki on one shoulder.

  Parade

  The rest of the year passed in cool silence between the lords and their queen. Leisha spent time learning how to govern a land that needed a firm hand. The nobles held their breath expecting any day to receive a wedding announcement. Leisha did nothing to alarm them and they, in turn, went about their business without giving much thought to their monarch.

  To celebrate the coming of spring, the Tahaerin kings and queens hosted a huge parade for all the people of Lida. Merchants from all over the kingdom traveled to the city and erected stalls to sell their goods. Food and alcohol were always in abundance. The kings paid entertainers to roam the streets of the city, which often looked more like fairgrounds.

  The most anticipated event saw the king and his family parade down on horseback from the castle to the harbor and back. People crowded the streets to see their ruler and to receive the coins he threw. The timing of her arrival in Lida last year meant Leisha missed the parade, but this year she would attend and let the people of her city see her.

  The only concern now was while she loved horses, she hated riding. For fourteen years in Embriel, Andrzej almost always kept her from riding. She took no lessons, where all other royal and noble children received extensive instructions in horsemanship. Leisha read books on horses and horse care; she knew the theories behind good riding posture and how to control the animals. But in practice she was a terrible rider.

  As the procession began to form up the day of the parade, Leisha emerged from the castle looking every inch a monarch, dressed in deep copper brown with a simple gold circlet holding her black hair back. She stood on the steps, waiting for a groom to bring her horse out, and if she felt uneasy about riding, Zaraki could not see it.

  He watched as she surveyed the assembled crowd of city leaders, merchants and minor nobles from nearby holdings. They would follow behind her, distributing coins as well. Even here, Zaraki could see how they eyed her, taking a measure of their queen, looking for any sign of weakness to remind them of her father.

  “My lady Queen.” A groom ran up, ducking his head and refusing to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, but your mare is lame this morning. I have another horse saddled and ready, though. He’s spirited but gentle. I thought you would look regal on it and it will put you over the crowd.”

  As a stable boy led the unfamiliar horse forward, it took an effort of will for Leisha not to take a step back. The large black stallion, several hands higher than her docile mare, tossed his head and snorted, excited to be out this morning and ready to be about it. Straightening her back, Leisha stepped up to the horse, rubbing his nose and grabbing his halter. She would not show weakness here in the courtyard with all her men present.

  Zaraki stared at the groom, on guard, watching the man and thinking the horse was all wrong. Why not bring another mare? And hers lame just this morning? This all had the feeling of a convenient coincidence. He moved to the other side of the horse’s head. Under his breath he said, “Your Majesty, please not this horse. Ask for a smaller one, please.”

  Leisha shook her head. “I can’t. Not now. The groom made it a challenge. I can’t back down in front of everyone.” She paused. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes. I’m sure of it.”

  She moved around to the side of the horse. A set of steps stood there to help her mount, but she could not understand the unfamiliar configuration of the sidesaddle. Two heads, or pommels, rose from the saddle and then curved away from each other. The few times she had ridden before, she always used a single pommel to hold the leg closest to the horse’s neck. This second pommel appeared to be for her other leg, but she could not imagine the purpose of it.

  The groom approached and offered her his hand, but Zaraki intercepted him. He saw her confusion and knew she could not ask for assistance. “If you will, my lady Queen.” Speaking low again, he said, “The leaping pommel is for you to grip with your outside leg. It helps you hold on if the horse rears or jumps.”

  You’re a fount of information, she sent to him, taking the risk. Relief and thanks flowed through her thoughts.

  It was the first time Leisha had spoken into his mind. The sensation was not unpleasant, just unexpected and also familiar. It reminded Zaraki of the night in her rooms when they first met.

  After settling herself in the strange saddle, Leisha nodded to the groom and the Master of Horses who stood observing the work. All through the courtyard, men mounted their animals, ready for the ride through the streets.

  The Yard Marshal assigned a handler to walk next to her, holding the lead shank so she could wave to the crowd and throw her coins. He would handle the horse and keeping him calm. Zaraki watched the man but did not see anything suspicious. He carried no visible weapons and did not seem to have anything concealed. But, when he looked back, Zaraki saw the groom, the one who had brought out the horse, racing back in the stables alone.

  Now something felt wrong. Zaraki pointed at two guards he knew. “You there. Both of you, on the queen. You ride with Her Majesty for the duration, understood?”

  Turning back to Leisha, he spoke under his breath. “I need to find the groom. There’s no way to convince you to postpone this?”

  Her expression was determined. “I trust you, but I can’t. Showing fear here is out of the question while they’re all watching. I’ll go slowly.” She raised her chin as the mask fell back into place. Defiant, she urged her mount forward and the parade moved out.

  Zaraki dashed towards the stables. The crowd thinned as riders and those walking with the parade exited through the main gate and under the portcullis. He needed to find the groom.

  He did not see the man in the vast building that comprised the stables. Three long rows of stalls ran the length, and Leisha’s mare stood in her normal stall near the front. Opening Suma’s door, he looked her over for injuries. When he lifted her right front hoof, he saw instantly something caustic had been used to burn the frog. Not an accident, then.

  A noise in one of the stalls all the way in the back caught his ear. No horse made the sound. Making his w
ay down the row between the stalls, Zaraki heard a muffled curse and scuffling. He looked over the gate and saw the groom digging frantically through the hay, an annoyed mare watching him from the side of the enclosure.

  Zaraki needed information now and could not waste time on finesse. “You there,” he snapped, sounding like a peevish nobleman. “Are you in charge of Her Majesty’s horse?”

  The groom jumped and turned, looking guilty. “Aye,” he said in a rush. “I am.”

  “What happened to lame the mare then, peasant? Doesn’t she pay you to keep the horse whole?” Zaraki asked, moving to stand in front of the stall door, full of indignation.

  “Oh, ah, I’m not sure. She was just pulling up on one side this morning, my lord.”

  Zaraki opened the gate now and stepped through. “So the burn on her hoof, you didn’t notice it?”

  The instant the man decided to run, Zaraki pounced on him. The horse in the corner neighed and shied away. He knew the dirty man had no stake in this plot except for the few coins he had been paid to lame the horse. It would not take much to get him talking, but Zaraki had precious little time. The dagger sliced into the man’s thigh and he screamed.

  Clamping his hand down to muffle the sound, Zaraki hissed at the man. “What’s going on? I’ll keep stabbing you until I hack off a limb.”

  “The horse,” the man gasped. “The horse is too much for her. Everyone knows she can’t ride. Please.” He grabbed at his thigh and cried as he saw the hilt of the dagger still sticking out.

  “Who?” Zaraki turned the blade in the man’s wound. His heart hammered in his chest. This was taking too long.

  “The handler. That’s all I know.”

  “Liar.” Wrenching the dagger from the man’s leg, he plunged it into the flesh of his right shoulder. The groom howled in agony. Blood gushed from the now open wound on his leg. “You need a surgeon if you plan on living. Name the handler.”

  “Bech. He said it was Bech.”

  Zaraki, already up and moving, sheathed his bloody dagger as he ran. He knew the name. Twice in the last week, guards had stopped someone named Bech for loitering around the castle. By the time he had heard about it from Andelko, no one could find the man. But they gave him a description at least.

  The streets would be clogged with people and the parade should have reached the crowds by now. He needed to get ahead of the procession and grab Bech as they passed by. The groom was right. Leisha was a poor horsewoman, and a terrified horse in the middle of a sea of people would make an excellent distraction. It would be simple to kill her if she lost control of the horse and fell from the saddle. Women riding aside also died when their mounts spooked and their riding dresses became entangled in the pommels of the saddle, dragged to their deaths, unable to free themselves.

  He raced into the courtyard and grabbed the first saddled horse he found. With very little encouragement, the animal took his lead and galloped out the gate and down the hill. Zaraki gave the horse her head, frantic as he tried to figure the shortest route through the maze of streets. They needed to get on the back streets where the crowds would be thin and they could run. Thankfully, the horse wanted to sprint and chose empty roads without encouragement from him. She wove around stalls, fruit sellers and opened doors with Zaraki just trying to stay on.

  They ran into the throngs following the parade, forcing him to abandon the horse. He tossed her reins to a woman leading two small children away from the parade route, both clutching folded paper bowls full of nuts. He hoped the woman would have the sense to return the mare to the castle. On foot now, he took off running, looking between buildings and hoping to catch a glimpse of the procession. He had to get in front of it.

  Finally, he saw the end of the parade as he glanced down between two homes. Closer. Panic took hold of his chest. He needed to find Bech and stop him without spooking the horse. The thought of Leisha being dragged down the street by a stampeding animal drove him onward.

  The road emerged into the large square in the center of town, ahead of the procession. He turned to where the main street also entered the square and saw her, mounted on the big stallion, moving slowing forward. The man matching the guard’s descriptions of Bech still held the lead. Zaraki began running in their direction, shoving people out of the way. He saw Bech gazing out over the throng of people, looking for someone or some sign.

  Holding the bloody dagger by his side, Zaraki tried to figure out how to kill the man without causing a panic in the streets. Suddenly, from across the plaza, he heard someone shout. In horror, he watched as Bech turned and raised the lead rope to strike Leisha’s horse in the face.

  Still running, Zaraki was too slow closing the distance.

  ***

  Banners and flags of all colors hung from the windows lining the parade route. All around, people waved ribbons and rang bells to welcome their queen down from her castle. Her father regularly attended functions within the city and the people loved him for it. But so far, Leisha had shied away from appearing in town. Now, she reached into her pouch for another handful of coins. She tossed them out over the crowd and people scrambled to retrieve them.

  As they neared the central square, about halfway between the castle and the harbor, she felt the stallion’s neck and back start to tense. She looked down at the handler, expecting to see him correcting her mount. Instead, she saw the man looking around, trying to see over the press of people. Tightening her grip on the saddle, Leisha tried to soothe the horse and get the man’s attention. The animal tensed again, tossing his head from side to side and pulling on the lead shank without any correction.

  Above the noise and tumult of the parade, Leisha heard whispers in her mind, like someone saying her name in a crowded room. Someone was thinking about her, thinking dangerous thoughts. She felt malice and violence and instinct took control. Her legs tightened around the pommels of the saddle and then someone shouted above the throng.

  The horse’s handler turned towards her and raised his arm. He whipped her horse across the face with the end of the lead rope, dropped it and jumped away.

  The stallion drew back in terror. Blinded and panicked, he tried to back away, only to run into the horses behind them. Neighing and wild with fear, he found no escape, no place to get away from the danger in front of him.

  Time stretched out before her. Leisha felt the horse shift his weight to his hindquarters and begin to rear up. Lean into it, lean into it, she chanted, remembering passages on horseback riding she read as a child. As the stallion rose onto his hind legs, she leaned forward and to one side of his neck, reaching her arms as far around as they would go. The horse hit the ground and made to bolt. Still hemmed in on all sides, he reared again, this time lashing out at the people around him with his hooves. The handler had disappeared into the crowd.

  Leisha clung to the horse’s neck as people backed away now, clearing a path for the animal to run wild. That would be far, far worse. She needed to act. Forcing herself to move, she reached for the dangling lead rope hanging just out of reach. Then hands appeared, grabbing it before she could.

  Zaraki yanked the rope down as hard as he could. From the side, one of the guards took his coat off and tried to toss it over the horse’s head. His first throw missed, but the second was successful. With his eyes now covered, the animal quieted.

  Grabbing the halter, Zaraki cursed, furious at himself. The shank chain, which should have been looped under the horse’s mouth to help control him, hung uselessly to one side.

  He turned to see Leisha loosening her death grip on the horse’s neck and sitting back up. “Are you all right, Your Highness?” he asked, trying to slow his racing heart.

  “Was that—” She cut herself off.

  That was on purpose, she sent to him. Fury blossomed in his mind around her words. Her eyes, wide with terror, stared down at him and her breath came in short gasps as she tried to get control of herself.

  He nodded, still clutching the lead rope. No time to discuss
this right now. “Do you ride on?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Leisha said through gritted teeth, with determination in her voice he had not heard before.

  Anger washed over him and Zaraki realized her emotions were bleeding out around her. He grabbed two guards standing on the street, there to restrain the throngs of people. No one wanted to get close to a panicked horse now. He pointed at Bech crumpled on the ground, blood pooling around him from where he had stabbed him. “Back to the castle. No one touches him except to keep him alive,” he barked. Anger roiled his stomach, but the time for recriminations had to come later. He forced himself to focus on getting Leisha safely done with this parade and back to Branik.

  He relaxed only after the procession pulled to a halt outside the castle stables. He remembered nothing of the rest of the walk back except Leisha never flagged, never stopped tossing coins. Assassins be damned, she seemed to say.

  Holding her stallion’s head, Zaraki sighed; grateful the fight had long since gone out of the animal. Grooms ran forward to take horses and bring Leisha a step to dismount. Throughout the rest of the ride, she had remained proud and defiant. Now, as she swung herself out of the saddle unaided, he saw the smallest wince. The pommels. They would have hurt her when the horse reared.

  He started to offer an arm but restrained himself. As word had spread through the procession about the assassination attempt, he knew her entourage of city merchants and leaders had watched to see how she would react. Would she break down? Could they exploit this day? But no, those who saw the attempt on her life would remember she walked into the castle angry, with her back straight.

  Now Zaraki could start thinking about the missteps leading to this debacle. He would check on Bech first, assuming the man survived the knife wound in his back. Guards had been on the streets looking for other people involved in this cock-up, but Andelko said nothing promising had turned up so far. Leisha would likely want to meet with him tonight and demand answers he did not have. The halter had been a huge, glaring mistake on his part. Responsibility for her safety fell to him, and he should have checked the damn horse and the halter. He wondered if he would have a job after tonight.