“How many others have accepted?” Isak demanded, thinking of the leaders of the companies of swop-swords. He did not like many of them and wondered how desperate this queen was.
“I have accepted two others. All of them expressed an interest, but their thoughts betrayed them. I don’t need greedy, grasping men. I have a kingdom full of them already.”
“Which towns are they being offered?” Perhaps he should bargain for a better one.
“Have we entered into negotiations then?” Leisha felt her pulse quicken at the chance to spar. She liked this one and hoped he would be up for it.
Inclining his head to her, he took a small sip of his wine. “So it would appear, Your Highness.”
“Very good. You’re aware of the situation I face. With the lords refusing to pay their levies, I’m forced to buy them from my own treasury. This is my offer. In less than a month, we’ll confront the Deojrin. I won’t pay this month. I’ll use that money to feed this army, clothe and supply it.”
She saw his eyes narrow.
“And what, Majesty, will I tell my men in a few days when they come asking for their pay?”
Leisha shrugged. “I hope you’ll pay them. Otherwise, you won’t have enough men to take Jivina from the former Lord Ceslav.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief and anticipation.
Andelko saw and wanted to console the swop-sword, knowing the man had already lost. Two other meetings had progressed to a similar point, and twice he had watched Leisha bait her trap. The real question was would this one retire gracefully, or try to fight her and salvage some pride.
Isak’s face hardened, unhappy with the turn of events. “Your Highness, I ask you deal fairly with me—”
“Pay them from the money you have been skimming off the top of what I’ve paid you.” Most mercenary companies set their rate of pay based on a percentage of what the noble paid the leader. One of Ani’s spies reported Isak told his men Leisha paid a slightly lower rate and likely pocketed the extra.
Working his jaw back and forth, the man kept his thoughts to himself and crossed his arms over his chest.
“So now you see what life with me will be like,” Leisha said, her shoulders lifting in a shrug. “I’ll always deal with you fairly, but I expect the same from you in all your dealings. With me, with the people of Jivina, with your fellow lords and nobles.”
Isak asked for time to think about her offer, which Leisha appreciated. By her rough estimates, if just three of the mercenaries accepted her offers, her money issues would be resolved for the next two months. After two more such meetings, she had selected four who would be allowed to overthrow one each of her treacherous nobles. She had a few others in mind who would make excellent lords, but would wait to approach them for now.
The loss of Ceslav’s men hurt, but Andelko still felt confident they could prevail over the approaching army. Leisha felt her gloom retreating. She had found a way to keep the army supplied and preserve her coffers.
Once the meetings concluded and the mercenary captains she had selected agreed to pay their troops from their own personal funds or, like Isak, from money they neglected to pay their troops, Leisha told Symon. At first, he gaped at her, aghast at such a ruthless, unorthodox plan. But he saw the beauty of it and saw it as a step in Leisha’s evolution as queen.
***
Carrying Petrine slowed Eamon’s party down, but within a week they ran into a Tahaerin patrol camped just off the roadway. Their captain said the army had made it as far as Vilnece and they should turn south here to meet up with them. Half a day’s ride brought them within sight of the army.
As they rode into camp, Eamon asked Tibor and Petrick to find servants and a doctor for Petrine. The woman’s wounds seemed to be healing, but a fever plagued her off and on. Last night, they gave her the last of the flowers they carried and she had begun the laborious process of shaking off the drug. With that squared away, Eamon went in search of Aniska to tell her his news.
She listened to no more than half his report before standing up and motioning for him to follow her across to the Lord Constable’s tent. “Tell him what you saw, please, Eamon.”
“We counted a hundred or more Cursed with them, sir.” Eamon saw Andelko close his eyes and blow out a slow breath. “They’re thick with them, sir. Just speculating, but Gerolt must have driven them all to near death to make it to Otokar so fast. Now, it means they’re moving extremely slow, but even so.”
“Thank you, Eamon. Go get some rest. We may have some questions for you at dinner.”
Ani waited until they were alone as she felt all her confidence bleed away. So many Cursed changed everything and put them back on the defensive. She collapsed into a chair, feeling suddenly tired and pessimistic. “What are we going to do, Andelko?”
Running his hands through his hair, he leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know if we have any choice, Ani. Where can we go? A hundred mind readers means they could kill maybe three thousand of our men—assuming each one gets the chance to exhaust himself. That still leaves us with a sizeable army. If we win, we get a huge victory, we clean out the southern part of the kingdom and buy ourselves time to rebuild and regroup. We could even think about retaking Lida.”
Ani missed most of what he said. Where can we go? She heard his words echoing in her mind as she started thinking about escape routes for ten or fifteen people. Embriel made the most sense with its close border, so tonight she would send an agent to check it out and report back.
She barely heard Andelko saying, “I saw Leisha and Avrid heading over to see the Cursed woman Eamon brought in. I’ll tell her about his news later.”
***
Sarika sent a servant to let Avrid and the queen know they had returned. Drifting in and out of sleep for the last several hours, Petrine barely noticed the doctor as he examined her and cleaned her wounds with cloths soaked in cheap, strong wine.
Putting away the extra bandages he brought, the man turned to Sarika to say, “Her wounds are grievous. I’m shocked she’s survived this long, especially if she lost as much blood as you said. The fever is concerning, though. We’ll have to watch her closely and pray for the best.”
The air in the little tent smelled like blood and wine and Sarika wanted to leave, but she hated for Petrine to be alone when she finally woke up. Avrid would likely be on his way soon, so she sat by the woman’s bedside and tried to ignore the stifling air and metallic scent.
Sarika jerked awake as she heard voices. Jumping to her feet, she bowed as the king, queen and Avrid all crowded into the tiny tent.
“How was your adventure?” Leisha asked with a smile.
“It went very well, Your Highness, though I’m glad to be back. I’m not sure I’m cut out for so much excitement.”
“And our friend here?”
“This is Petrine, my lady. She’s been terribly injured, and she’s still shaking off the last of the flowers we gave her.”
Hearing her name, Petrine opened her eyes and struggled to sit up.
With more kindness than he generally showed, Avrid moved to her side and put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re fine. Please, don’t hurt yourself.” When she relaxed, he said, “I’m also Cursed and also freed recently, but I promise you’re safe here.”
Had she not seen it herself, Leisha would never have imagined Avrid capable of such empathy. “Petrine, I’m Leisha, Queen of Tahaerin, and this is my husband, Zaraki. Do you need anything? I’ve asked my doctor to come and check your wounds.”
“Thank you,” the woman whispered. “Thank you for taking care of me. It’s more than I expected.”
“Of course, Petrine. Whatever we can do to help you.”
“Sarika told us some of what you said when they found you. What did you mean about your compulsion weakening?” Avrid asked with naked curiosity. He had never heard a hint or murmur of such a thing happening, in any of the texts he read or the lessons they taught him. The idea that the Deojrin had not been completely forthcoming wi
th their knowledge conflicted with his image of them. In the back of mind, he wondered if they knew or if they lied.
Still confused as the flower began to wear off, Petrine tried to gather herself before speaking. Even so, her words jumped from thought to thought, like a stone across water. Leisha felt bile in the back of her throat, remembering how it felt coming down off the drug—the chaos and the bewilderment.
“After the meeting in your capital. In Lida,” Petrine began. “Gerolt didn’t think. He didn’t— They’re all so used to thinking of us as their mindless toys.”
She looked at Leisha with a pained expression. “But Edvard saw what you were, my lady, and he spread the word. It raced through some of us like a wildfire. You were queen and you were Cursed. Gerolt should have ordered him not to say anything.
“And so we watched. Those of us that never completely believed their poisonous priests. It’s not all of us that doubt, it’s not even most of us. But there are some. And our compulsions weakened.”
Petrine froze, arrested in motion. Her eyes flicked around as she hunted for some elusive thought. “It’s almost if when you truly stop believing in their religion and their lies, the compulsion loses some of its power.” She frowned and sat very still as her eyes lost focus, staring off at a corner of the tent now. “It’s as if, by believing, we allow the compulsion to work. Give it permission,” she whispered.
The implications of her words struck Avrid first because he had believed. Born into their cult, he never knew any other life. From his earliest memories, he knew they would come for him, take him from his parents, put the compulsion in his mind and save his soul. He prayed for the day to come so he would not be damned, not go wild and try to enslave those around him. As he grew older, he hated the compulsion but still clung to some of their religion and accepted his place in Deojrin society. Now, he sank down into the chair behind him, puzzled and bewildered as he saw how complacent he had been.
No one said anything as they all mulled over Petrine’s words. Leisha heard Avrid’s thoughts as they pulsed, and she covered her mouth with her hands. Sick now, she remembered Sarika’s scroll that talked about putting the compulsions on children as they neared adulthood. She realized why the Deojrin waited until the mind readers turned fifteen to snare them. This way, their captors had years to indoctrinate them, to fill their heads with lies and make them docile, accepting, complicit in their own enslavement. The Deojrin knew their compulsions required the mind readers to believe.
“It’s horrific,” Zaraki said behind them, watching the four mind readers all reacting to this revelation. He did not need to hear their thoughts to come to similar conclusions as they did. Everything about the compulsion, the religion, the Deojrin was abhorrent.
***
Andelko brought them all together, including Ladvik and Vially, to talk about Eamon’s news. Ani’s spies kept watch outside, to keep anyone from eavesdropping on this meeting. Enthusiasm for an impending battle ran high, but that would wither if the soldiers heard rumors or doubts.
Initially, Andelko had felt discouraged, but after meeting all afternoon with his marshals, that feeling had lifted somewhat. Certainly, the news was not good, and their casualties could soar, but they all agreed they could win assuming no one else defected. They could not lose any more trained men and hope to have any success.
Watching carefully as Leisha absorbed the news, Andelko knew her well enough to read the subtle shift in posture and expression. Doubt flitted across her face. “We still think it’s a good idea to engage them,” he said. “The first battle will come sooner than we wanted. Reports say they’re heading straight for us, but this isn’t a bad thing. Right now, we have a delicate balance. A win will keep morale high and it should help keep any nobles who are faltering in their loyalties.”
“It’s up to you, my lady,” Ladvik added. “If you want to withdraw, we’ll find another way.”
“No, I trust you all. You know that. If you think this is the best plan, then we pursue it.” She sounded poised and assertive, but Andelko knew better. Just like the soldiers outside, huddled around campfires or tangled with their chosen lovers for the night, her confidence teetered on a knife’s edge. Where before, Leisha moved through life full of faith and conviction that she could overcome any obstacle, now she had seen the price of defeat and did not know if she could pay it.
Loss
The army stayed camped for another four days along the edge of a hardwood forest. Hunters traipsed through the wood taking deer and rabbits while foragers visited small communities in the area to buy animals for butchering.
Two days after returning to camp, Sarika went to check on Petrine. She found Jarden, Leisha’s doctor, near her bedside looking worried.
“She unconscious and burning with fever,” he explained. “Since late last night. Her wounds are septic suddenly and I’m very concerned for her.”
Petrine lay on the cot, sweating profusely, her breathing rapid and shallow, and her skin pale. Touching her mind, Sarika saw only fever-induced dreams.
She felt responsible for this poor creature and thought of her uncle Oszkar chiding her for this. He often said she felt an obligation where none existed, but she had saved Petrine when the others wanted to abandon her on the side of the road.
“I’ll sit with her for a while if you’d like to go eat,” Sarika said, brushing matted hair from the woman’s face.
Jarden brought food back and together they ate in silence. When night fell, they lit a few candles and sat by Petrine’s bedside as her life ebbed away.
***
Sleep had just claimed Aniska when she heard someone calling to her from outside her tent. She wanted a nap, but that would not happen today. “Come in,” she said after climbing out of bed and straightening her top.
A young man, one of her agents, stepped through the tent flap looking tired and road weary. “Spymaster. I’m just back from Embriel,” he said. “I looked like you asked, and Andrzej has put troops along the river. Spread throughout the keeps and towers he used to watch for the old king.”
“Dammit,” Aniska swore, even though she knew days ago what he would find, predicting there would be consequences for Lukas’s death. “To keep us from crossing over and retreating, I’m sure. That bastard.”
Her agent looked pained. “Spymaster, there’s more. I went to a couple of taverns, just to listen. I heard soldiers talking, saying Gerolt sent messengers to all the kingdoms. He told them there were more Deojrin coming. They said he offered promises of peace and concessions to the king who captures Her Majesty and turns her over to him. The soldiers said Andrzej will capture the queen if able and he’ll give her to them. They said that’s the reason for the troops on the border—not to stop her, to catch her.”
Aniska looked away, taking in the full impact of his words. There would be no safety for Leisha, ever. She would be hunted and pursued, forever looking over her shoulder. After sending her man on his way, Ani went in search of Andelko. She would find him and he would tell her how to handle this, because right now, she could not fathom how to break the news to her friend.
***
After dinner, Leisha heard the words as Ani spoke them and felt Zaraki take her hand.
Andrzej would betray her. The man who raised her, fed her, clothed her, he would betray her— sell her for favors to buy his kingdom time. He would hunt her down, like a deer in the woods, snare her and send her to her death.
She knew, she understood, she could comprehend his reasons. Though she did not wield the knife, she bore the responsibility for his son’s demise. Her own horrible death would not wash clean that sin, the father would not be satisfied. But the king could salvage something by it.
Lukas’s memory reared up. Someone else who once seemed to care for her, and he tried to trade her life for land. Land which did not even belong to him.
And then the separation, the line Leisha tended so carefully between public and private, between queen and wife, between queen
and friend, crumbled. She felt it as the walls folded in on one another and for once she did not fight it.
She saw everything so clearly now. Soon, very soon, she would no longer need the queen.
Just as Lukas had alluded to that day in Embriel. There were too many pieces in play now, too many moves to counter. Tears pooled in her eyes and she clenched her jaw against them.
This war was nearly over. At least for her.
Decisions
Three days later, as the army continued making their way south and west, a rider appeared carrying two letters. One wax seal bore an impression of a bent and gnarled oak tree. Pressed into the wax of the other folded letter, an owl stared out at them. Florian and Ambroz, then.
Setting them on the table, Leisha looked at each of them and felt her heart start to race. They all recognized the seals, and no one wanted to be the first to open either dispatch. Florian and Ambroz had kept silent for a long while, and the arrival of their sudden communications with a single messenger heralded only one thing. Finally, she reached for one and ran her fingernail under the wax to break it. She read carefully and without giving any indication of the contents, she set it down and lifted the second.
Symon saw her swallow nervously as she read the letter from Ambroz. Setting it aside, Leisha looked around the table at her little family. “They’re both ordering their troops to withdraw.”
Everyone expected that, but hearing it aloud made it all too real. Last night, a scout arrived and reported a large portion of the northern army had begun moving south, rushing to meet Gerolt, they believed. Last night, they could still win, but with heavy losses. But with the defection of two companies of pikemen and one of archers, they were suddenly outnumbered. Once it became common knowledge, they faced the very real prospect of the peasant rabble deserting.
“And are they giving me their support?” Andelko asked, drumming his fingers on the table. He looked furious.
As Dragons from Sleep (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 2) Page 39
