Petrine waved her hand, wanting to tell her story. “The only way to salvation is through slavery and service. If left unchecked, the Cursed would defy Him and enslave everyone with our abilities. This, we’re taught, is the natural way of things when you wield such power as we do.
“But now, we’ve seen how some of the people love your queen. She doesn’t enslave or bend their will to gain their loyalty. This far from our temples and priests and prayers, it seems some of our compulsions are weakening.”
Petrine stopped to take a drink from the cup next to her. “Some of the strongest Cursed have been tasked with rooting out such weakness,” she said bitterly. “Those of us found to have slipped too far are culled. Killed before we can infect the others. I was unlucky to be examined a week ago.”
Coming to stand next to Eamon, Sarika said, “Now you’re free of them.”
“Yes. And I’m not sure if that’s good or not. What will you do with me?”
Sarika felt the woman’s apprehension. “We aren’t monsters, and our queen is very kind. We want to take you to her if we can do it without hurting you.”
“Killing me, you mean?” Petrine coughed again and clutched at the wounds on her chest.
“Yes, that’s right,” Eamon said, thinking one of the sword thrusts must have punctured Petrine’s lung. “Unfortunately, we’re in enemy territory and have information we need to get back to our army. We know your people will kill you if they find you.”
A coughing spell seized Petrine, and she gritted her teeth, wincing as she curled around herself. Her lungs rattled when she took a deep breath. “You have flowers with you? I can taste you gave me some earlier. Do you have enough to get us back to your side?”
“Yes.”
“Give me the flowers. Take me with you and I’ll tell you queen anything she wants to know. I’d rather die from my wounds than wait to see what the Kirous Visarl will do if he takes me alive.”
Unraveling
Ceslav agreed to the meeting, though in many ways Leisha wished he had not. No one knew about her plan, and she felt their curiosity. But for now, she kept her own counsel, giving herself the time to change her mind or find another way. She would not bargain with Ceslav, but perhaps he would see reason.
Two companies of soldiers and one of archers left the army to escort her to the spot Aniska chose—a flat prairie where Ceslav could not hide his own men. They traveled for two days and made camp. Riders took word to the Lord of Jivina that the queen and the Lord Constable had come and expected him in the morning.
She and Zaraki sat in their small tent that night as she finalized plans in her mind. At one point, she had thought she might ride out with only Andelko by her side, a show of unity between the two of them. But as she considered it, she realized how often she excluded Zaraki from important business and meetings. She worried constantly the lords would use him and their displeasure with her choice of husband against her. It had solved nothing.
“I want you to ride out with Andelko and me tomorrow,” she said.
Zaraki smiled at her and took her hand. “I don’t know that delicate negotiations with a rebellious noble is the time to force them to deal with me. As long as I’m close by, I’ll be happy.”
She could see he appreciated the gesture, but saw it as nothing more. “No. For too long I’ve catered to them on this matter, keeping you out of the spotlight so they could not use you against me. Tomorrow, things are changing. This is our kingdom, and they’ll accept both of us as their rightful rulers. And tomorrow is the perfect day for this declaration.”
“What are you plotting, my devious wife?” he asked, cocking his head.
Sketching out her plan, she saw shock and disbelief on his face. Then he laughed.
“You’re ruthless. I knew that already, but gods, I’m glad I never had to face you.”
“I’m scared,” Leisha admitted, letting the brave face fall away. “I’ve always thought if I could only unite the lords, we could defeat the Deojrin. I knew they didn’t all love me, but to turn against me in favor of foreign butchers?” She wondered if she had been a fool all these years, imagining a united kingdom could arise from the contentious, fractious Tahaerin nobility. A fool imagining she could forge what no other Tahaerin king ever had.
Staring down at their hands, fingers entwined, she felt unfamiliar despair. “Now it’s all coming apart, unraveling like cheap cloth. For the first time, I see defeat looming and don’t know where to turn. Our people will be the ones who suffer. When I think we may never see Lida again, that we could truly lose everything. It saddens me.”
“I know. We worked so hard. To see it swept away because of politics,” he trailed off, knowing they could lose more than their castles and horses and beautiful homes in Achym. Neither wanted to admit it, though.
“And poor Andelko. He feels responsible when it was never his fault. I hope all the gods damn Lukas for eternity for this. Tomorrow, things change.”
Leisha laid her head on his shoulder and laced her fingers with his again. They sat quiet for a long time before she whispered, “What am I if I’m not queen?”
***
The day dawned blustery and cold. Danica dressed her in a deep red gown recalling the gold and red gown she wore after burning her uncle alive. Covered in a matching fur-lined cloak, Leisha smiled as Zaraki led Evka and Capar towards her. He looked very fetching in his red coat and very nervous as he fiddled with it.
Honestly, you’ve had two years to get used to this king business, she teased, her lips twitching into a smile. Isn’t it time to relax and enjoy it? You look perfect.
Zaraki glared back in mock indignation but stopped worrying about his collar. As they rode out, he thought about the turns his life had taken to bring him to this spot. He remembered the day he became king and remembered the fierce, triumphant and vengeful smile on Leisha’s face as she forced the lords to bow and scrape to him. Some did not care, most felt resigned, but a few loathed the experience—bowing to an orphaned peasant from Ostrava, who did not even remember the date of his birth. The peasant in him certainly enjoyed sticking his finger in their eyes.
Next to him, Leisha laughed aloud, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the whole party. I enjoyed it as well, she sent to him.
***
The plains west of Jivina looked bleak and uninviting under the cloudy skies. In the distance, small stands of trees broke up the rolling landscape, but here, all had been cleared to make way for Jivina’s herds of cattle. Leisha thought she greatly preferred her mountains to this.
She knew they had arrived when she spotted the standards driven into the ground to mark the location. Their hawk and horse snapped in the wind tugging at her hair, and Leisha thought again how much she liked this seal that combined hers and Zaraki’s motifs. Watching the blue and gold banners, she replayed what she wanted to say today and what she expected to hear.
Today, things would change for all of Tahaerin.
As they approached the standards, Leisha, Zaraki, and Andelko left their escort of soldiers and spies ten feet behind them. Just as she asked, Andelko kept his horse behind Evka and Capar, even as they reined to a stop. From this distance, it required Ceslav and his party to ride forward if he wanted to be heard. She thought her one-time ally might refuse, given the subtle insult, and they would be stuck staring at each other across the expanse. But the chance to be the first to speak with his future king proved too tempting.
The Lord of Jivina came to posture for his people, she saw. Ceslav rode out on a huge chestnut stallion he had covered in his own colors. It appeared he wore every ring ever collected by his family. Draped in black velvet bound at the waist by a belt made of silver links, he also wore the pelt of some animal as a cloak. It looked ridiculous, but Leisha thought she remembered it being some family tradition, perhaps. Behind him rode a collection of men she did not recognize, likely minor nobles and town leaders from his various holdings. They seemed impressed with his pelt.
Alone on the plains, Ceslav left his party a short distance behind and brought his horse within feet of Evka. “Your Highness.” He bowed forward in his saddle, making sure it was unclear who he addressed. “Your Grace.”
Leisha felt her heart pounding, afraid of what she knew she would soon hear. Not bothering with pleasantries, she said, “Ceslav, you’ve withdrawn your men and broken your commitments to me.”
“I have, Your Highness,” he admitted without a hint of apology. “I can no longer provide resources to a ruler I don’t support.”
And there it was. She could have ended it with that declaration alone, but instead, Leisha would give him rope enough to hang himself. That way, when the end came, the other lords would know why she acted against him. “I want to hear it from your lips. Tell me you’ve decided to betray your own people and side with these butchers.”
Ceslav shrugged. “Those who think as I do believe the Visarl represents the best opportunity to put the Lord Constable on the throne. And while we have different reasons for wanting that, we can all see Gerolt is going to win. His forces are superior to yours. He has you nearly surrounded. You’re running for your life and filling your army with foreign mercenaries. So we’ll support Gerolt, get our new king and then turn on the Deojrin if we don’t care for them.”
“How can you justify this, Ceslav?” Leisha demanded. “How can you justify the atrocities they committed in Otokar? Everyone murdered and the city put to the torch because I once stayed there.”
“This isn’t about Deojrin morality, lady. We’re only concerned about clearing a way for a new king.” He flicked his eyes over Zaraki, dismissing him, and then bowed towards Andelko.
“Lord Constable, Gerolt asks you to come voluntarily. He was disappointed he missed the chance to greet you earlier with Prince Lukas. If you come now, we’ll crown you, follow you. We’ll make you king, and when you unite the lords, the Deojrin will leave Tahaerin lands and stop killing our people. Later, you can throw off these invaders if it pleases you.” Leisha could see his impassioned speech resonated with those in his party, but his words were hollow. He did not care who held the throne as long as it was not her.
Andelko looked across the space, contempt written on his face. “I don’t want your crown or your loyalty, lordling.” If they wanted to acknowledge him as royalty, he would treat them as vassals.
Ceslav nodded, not taking offense at the slight. “And how will you feel when you’re the last Tahaerin? When you’re the last member of your family and the only one who all the nobles can unite behind?”
“Then you can all go fuck yourselves,” Andelko snarled. “I’ll let the Visarl tear down your castles and turn your lands to ash before I’ll raise a hand to defend any of you.”
“Have some sense, Lord Constable.” Ceslav spread his palms in front of him. “You are, many of us believe, the only heir of the last king.”
Leisha dug her nails into her palms to keep from dragging them across Ceslav’s face. Despite the insult, she forced herself to laugh. “You’re going trot out that tired rumor again? I put it to rest before my coronation. Staval was not my father.”
The Lord of Jivina looked pained, as if he truly regretted having to bring up such unsavory business. “If only it were true, my lady. The idea your uncle could have fathered you with his own sister is unsettling, to be sure. But he did tell a number of us it likely did happen.
“Moreover, you married a commoner.” Ceslav’s face twisted as he sneered. “You’ve despoiled yourself, you have no children, perhaps you’re even barren. So you can see why we’re left with only Prince Andelko when all the evidence before us is weighed.”
She heard the shift in Andelko’s title and marked it, knowing it signaled an end of any pretense. He meant it as a gauntlet thrown down. “Beware, Ceslav. I’ve not yet lost this war,” she warned him.
“If you somehow survive this, Leisha,” he said, dropping the veneer of respect and formality, “I’ll meet you on the battlefield.”
Weapons rattled at his threat, and she held up one hand. Behind her, horses reacted to their riders and stamped at the ground, but no one made any move.
“Go back to Jivina,” she barked, her voice ringing out, pitched so those behind Ceslav could hear. “We’re done here. But all of you, mark this day. When I come, there’ll be no mercy, no quarter given.”
Dismissed, Ceslav and his cronies bowed once more to Andelko before turning their mounts to leave. Leisha sat, refusing to abandon the field before the nobles and town representatives did.
“Ceslav!” Andelko bellowed at the men from Jivina before they could ride out of earshot. “She’s the only Tahaerin ruler. You’ll bow your head to her or I’ll see it on the block.”
Sitting straight in her saddle, Leisha kept them there on the plain as Ceslav and his party dwindled into the distance. Last night, she saw no path to victory if her alliance truly did fail. With no money to pay the mercenaries, she would lose a sizable portion of her army. But now, she held a precious gift in her palm, a solution handed to her by the Lord of Jivina. One she should have seen months ago. His open rebellion freed her from the ancient Tahaerin ties of blood and obligation.
For eight years, she insisted on working with the nobles because of their shared history and Tahaerin blood. She felt a kinship even with those who hated her. If Ceslav and his supporters wanted to revolt against her, joining with the invaders, declaring themselves for Andelko, regardless of his willingness to accept them, so be it.
Today, everything changed. Tomorrow, she would forge a new kingdom.
When she turned Evka, Andelko and the others saw it. Backed into a corner by Ceslav’s betrayal, Leisha would not concede or bargain. Winning would be on her terms and she would determine the shape that victory took.
***
Isak sat patiently waiting for the pretty queen to arrive. He knew what this was. Any good mercenary leader would recognize this and remember similar meetings. He had seen the dwindling supplies and the soldiers who left at the commands of their lords. Here she would tell him she lacked the funds to pay his men and then beg him to stay. Threaten him, promise to reward him, offer him any number of enticements. He would refuse. There were other wars to be fought with leaders who could pay.
He stood when she swept into the tent along with her Lord Constable and bodyguards.
“Isak, please forgive my tardiness. Sit, please.” She nodded at his seat and took her own behind a small table. The others stood behind her.
“Of course, Your Highness.”
A servant brought wine, and it all seemed so casual and commonplace. As if she did not know or did not want to believe their relationship would soon be at an end.
“I’ve been meeting with all the mercenary captains today. Some of the meetings have gone on longer than I expected,” Leisha explained, waving her hand dismissively.
Taking the wine glass offered to him because courtesy demanded it and because wine of the type a queen provided deserved drinking, Isak tossed back half. He wanted to tell her to hurry this up. By nightfall, he wanted his men to know they would be marching soon. They needed time to plan their withdrawal. And perhaps he would take his company back across the Vinca without stopping to pillage because she had treated him very fairly.
Cocking her head, Leisha watched him, reading his thoughts and looking for signs that pointed to the sort of man living behind the mask of the hardened warrior. “Have you ever considered what it would be like to be a noble? To rule your own holding and give up whoring yourself out?”
His smug laugh piqued her, he could tell. “And which village or hamlet are you offering to let my men pillage to keep us around?”
Desperate employers often made similar offers but without the promise of permanence. Capture a town, strip it of its wealth and then leave. Instead of moving on, some companies might stay on for a year or so while the weakened noble struggled to raise funds to evict him.
Isak never felt completely
at ease with the practice. The citizens suffered in the end, and when the company moved on, they left a power vacuum other elements rushed to fill. Wars needed fighting and his men served a purpose, but he could not celebrate the death of innocents. He could move on to another employer without resorting to that here.
“Jivina. A prosperous market town,” Leisha explained, a smile creeping across her face. “However, you misunderstand me. I’m definitely not offering to let you plunder it. I’m offering to make you a noble. Lord of Jivina, titled with all the hereditary rights and obligations of any Tahaerin lord.”
He scowled, unsure if he heard her correctly.
“Isak, I’m looking for men who know how to rule other men, to inspire them, to lead them. But also, how to manage resources, negotiate. What I want are lords loyal to me who wish to forge a united kingdom. If this isn’t you, I’ll pay you now and expect you to leave my lands in peace when this is over.”
Confused and suspicious, Isak did not know how to respond. This conversation now ranged far from where he expected. “And my men?”
He watched her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “Those who wish to stay may do so as town guards. The rest may leave and return to their homes or join other companies.”
Staring at her, he saw the plan unfolding before him. Those who accepted the terms would not destroy the towns she gave them. They would take pains to leave the towns unscathed and intact, the citizens unmolested. Plunder and death already marked the Deojrin’s passage through the southern lands. She did not want to increase the suffering here, but she needed some way to keep her mercenaries.
“Yes, exactly,” Leisha said, plucking his painfully obvious thoughts from the air. Eventually, he might learn to hide them better. “I want peace in my lands and I want my kingdom to prosper. Now, I know it can never happen so long as I’m constantly warring with my nobles. And so, they’ll be replaced. You’ll have to learn our customs, and I’m not always easy to get along with, but there’s no reason for this kingdom to be in constant conflict.”
As Dragons from Sleep (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 2) Page 38
