Shalador's Lady

CHAPTER 20

After renting a horse at Grayhaven’s Coaching station, Ranon headed for the parts of the town where he’d spent some time. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be wasting a day pursuing something Shira couldn’t explain. But she’d gone all hissy cat on him last night and insisted that he come to Grayhaven today.

That wasn’t fair, Ranon scolded himself as he rode through the streets and felt a grim uneasiness settling over him. Saying she had been a “hissy cat” diminished the power of the feelings Shira had last night. And remembering the tightness in her face, the worry in her eyes . . . Something was pushing her to push at him, but this time her tangled web only gave her a sense of when something was coming and not what was coming.

Now that he was here, he wished he’d asked Archerr or Shaddo to come with him.

This town didn’t feel right anymore. Or more to the point, it was starting to feel the way the towns and villages had felt for the past several generations: discouraged, resigned, wary. Angry. He rode through the shopping district and had the odd sense that shopkeepers were letting their windows stay dirty and weren’t bothering to sweep the walks as a deliberate way to discourage the interest of some customers.

Like aristos. Or Queens.

You don’t have to go up to the mansion, Shira had said. Just go to the places in town where we’d shopped or visited. Then listen to your heart.

He could have used something less cryptic. Then again, maybe the messages were here. The women who sold them plants when Gray was working on the gardens at the mansion asked him if the Rose Queen was coming back to Grayhaven. Some of the shopkeepers came out of their stores to ask if the court was returning. He heard the hope in their voices when they asked, and he saw the dull acceptance in their eyes when he told them Cassidy and her court were remaining in Eyota.

He stopped at a tavern for a short glass of ale. It was late morning, too early for a drink as far as he was concerned, but he’d gone in because you could usually get a feel for what the men were thinking—and there were too many men there for the time of day. That in itself was not a good sign.

Why wasn’t Theran seeing any of this? The man was supposed to be ruling this town. Why wasn’t he heeding warnings that were so clear? Grayhaven was the capital of Dena Nehele. When Cassidy left a few weeks ago, there were signs of people shaking off the years of war and the decades of abuse at the hands of twisted Queens. Now shops that had been open were closed, empty. Now people hurried along the walks with the same hunched wariness that had been typical of the people everywhere in Dena Nehele.

What was Theran doing that people were reacting this way? Ranon didn’t like him, but that was a clash of personalities. It didn’t mean Theran wasn’t a good man or a good Warlord Prince. So why wasn’t he doing something to fix whatever this was?

Ranon continued riding through the streets, becoming more and more edgy. Enemy camp. Enemy ground. His instincts shouldn’t be telling him those things, but he could feel himself preparing for a fight.

When he reached the guardhouse that marked the line that separated the landen part of town from the Blood, he hesitated for a long moment before he urged his horse forward and continued down the street.

There was an ugly feeling here. As he rode toward the craftsmen’s courtyard, he created a skintight Opal shield around himself. Where were the craftsmen? Where was the merchandise?

He looked over at the area that had been occupied by the weaver family and saw James Weaver step toward him, looking grim, angry, and battle-hard.

“Prince,” James said, “I would speak to you.” He caught himself, as if just realizing he’d issued a kind of challenge. Then he added, “If you will permit it.”

Ranon stared at the man, assessing the temper he saw in those eyes. He and Shira had come here often while Shira was healing JuliDee’s face and checking the eye that had almost been lost because of two Warlord pricks. Those sessions, and his and Shira’s presence among these people, had become cordial enough that Shira would have a cup of tea with the wife and daughter while James shared a glass of ale with him.

So what would put that look in a man’s eyes? Why would there be so much tension just because one of the Blood rode by?

The answer came to him. He was off his horse and grabbing James’s arms so fast the other man didn’t have time to react.

“Is something wrong with your family? Is that why they aren’t with you? Your wife? Has something happened to your daughter, your son?”

James relaxed. “They’re all well, Prince. I thank you for asking.” Then he looked uneasy, so when he stepped back, Ranon let him go. “The Rose Queen stood up for us landens, and your Lady healed my little girl. You helped me and mine, so I thought . . . fair warning, like.”

“Fair warning about what?” Ranon felt a chill settle in his gut.

“When Prince Grayhaven’s bitch takes control of Dena Nehele, there’s going to be another uprising. And this time it won’t end until all of us are dead—or all of you.”

Ranon stared at James, shocked speechless. Then he shook his head. “Cassidy’s court stands. She rules everything but this town, which is under Prince Grayhaven’s control. Kermilla isn’t going to rule Dena Nehele.”

“She says she is.”

No. It wasn’t just that he wanted Cassie to rule; the thought of Kermilla ruling filled him with dread.

“Thing is,” James said, “I’m tired of destroying, tired of fighting and killing. But if it has to be done again, I’d rather fight for something than against something.”

A plea in those eyes. Messages under the spoken words.

And suddenly Ranon remembered what Jaenelle had said to him: People looked beyond themselves and made room for you. Remember that, Prince.

Before he could work out what he wanted to ask James, a handful of guards rode up.

Ranon turned and put up an Opal shield behind him, protecting the landen since the hostility in the guards’ psychic scents was sufficient warning that he’d walked into some kind of trouble.

The senior guard, Lord Rogir, stared at him for a moment—and the Warlord’s aggression faded with recognition. “Prince Ranon?”

Ranon nodded, noting the way the other guards had fanned out. Two were keeping an eye on the landens; the others were watching him.

“Prince, if I could have a few minutes of your time?” Rogir asked.

Taking a careful measure of the tempers around him, Ranon dropped the Opal shield behind him and turned to James. “I’ll be back.” Then he strode far enough away to be out of earshot.

Lord Rogir dismounted and followed him.

“Is the Rose Queen coming back to Grayhaven?” Rogir asked.

“No,” Ranon replied. “She’s settled in Eyota. So is the court.”

“Is Lady Cassidy leaving in the spring? Is it true the other Dharo Queen is going to rule Dena Nehele?”

“You all seem to know something more than Cassidy’s court knows,” Ranon said. “Lady Kermilla can fart words all she wants. Doesn’t change who is ruling Dena Nehele now—or who is going to continue to rule. The court stands. If the Queen is challenged, we’ll fight.” It wasn’t really his place to make such a statement without more of the First Circle present, but he was sure of the truth of it.

Rogir glanced at James Weaver. “Can you do anything for them? This town isn’t safe for that family anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Whether she rules officially or not, Theran Grayhaven has given this town over to the other Queen. She says she outranks the Rose Queen and can countermand any orders we’ve been given.” Fury swept over Rogir’s face. “She brought those two Warlords, Garth and Brok, into this part of town a few days ago—and she made the kind of warning threats we’ve all heard before about what will happen to anyone who opposes her now. Since then, my men and I have kept a close watch on this courtyard. Those Warlords came back this morning, and they were looking for Weaver’s little girl. They blame her for the punishment they damn well deserved. If they get their hands on her this time, they’ll do a lot worse than throw horse shit and stones.”

Ranon felt sick, cold.

“I’ve got a wife and a daughter about the same age as his.” Rogir tipped his head toward James. “I’ve kept an eye on these folks because of that. Gotten to know them. Blood and landen . . . We may be from the same race, but we’re not the same. We’ll never be the same, so we don’t fit together easy. But a father is a father, and I think about the fear that would be eating my gut if two Warlords had that look in their eyes when they asked about my little girl.”

Easy enough to guess where this conversation was heading, but the words had to be said. So Ranon waited.

Rogir cleared his throat. “Those landens need to get out of Grayhaven. And I want my family out of here. The guards who have been riding with me to protect the landens and have followed the Queen’s command? They want to get out too. Especially the one who is newly married and hoped for a better life than he or his wife had known before.”

People looked beyond themselves and made room for you. Remember that, Prince. “I can’t make any promises before discussing this with the Queen,” Ranon said.

“Understood.”

Listen to your heart. “I’ll meet you back here after dark, and one way or another, we’ll figure out how to get your family out of this town. The other guards as well.” He glanced at James Weaver. “And them.”

“I’ve got a sister . . .” Rogir trailed off.

“Have a list ready for me.” Ranon hesitated, but it had to be said because it could make a difference between someone choosing to go or stay. “You’ll probably end up living in the same village as the court. That means living in a Shalador reserve.”

“I’ll let the others know, but if the court is there and your people are willing to have us, I don’t think anyone who wants to leave is going to care about those kinds of boundaries.”

Ranon nodded and returned to James. “How many of you want to get out?”

James looked at him as if not quite daring to believe the question. A glance at the other craftsmen, who nodded. “Several families. All have skilled craftsmen who aren’t afraid to work hard.”

That would please Burle, Ranon thought. Cassie’s father wasn’t afraid of working hard either and required the same commitment from anyone who was going to work for him.

“My brother has sheep.” James sounded cautiously hopeful. “They give a fine wool that my wife spins for our weaving. And Tanner’s cousin has cattle for meat and leather. I know a dairyman too. Maybe . . . maybe a dozen families in all.” He looked sad. “Too many here think the past will be our future. They’ve given up hope. They’ll stay here to fight or die. Some of us would like more for our families.”

Ranon signaled for Rogir to join them. Looking at Rogir, he tipped his head toward James. “Can your family shelter his tonight?”

“We can,” Rogir replied without hesitation.

“I don’t know where you will end up, and I don’t know what I can offer beyond the promise that I’ll help you get out of this town,” Ranon said.

“I’ll talk to the men I know want to get out,” Rogir said. “Tell them to pack up what they don’t want to leave behind.”

James made a gesture that took in himself and the other craftsmen who were watching them so intently. “We were relocated here after the uprisings. We were allowed only what could fit in one wagon. Everything we have can still fit in that wagon.”

Ranon looked at the two men. They had stood on opposite sides during the uprisings. Now they stood together as fathers and husbands—and men who, if they had to fight again, wanted to fight for something instead of against something.

“Start packing,” he said. “We’ll meet back here during the aristo dinner hour.” Less chance of running into Theran or Kermilla at that time. “I’ll give you the Queen’s decision then.”

Mounting his horse, he rode back through town and found himself passing one of the shops that held the kind of merchandise only an aristo could afford. He stopped, dismounted, and went in, not sure what he was doing there.

Hell’s fire. He knew what he was doing there: looking for something to sweeten the half-promises he’d made on his Queen’s behalf.

“May I assist you?” the merchant asked.

Sweets. Cassie had dipped into the loan Sadi had given the court and given her First Circle half what was due them from the coming tithe, so he had a few marks he could spend.

“Chocolates,” he said. “A small treat for the Ladies.” He emphasized small because the stuff was wickedly expensive.

The merchant studied him. “You serve Lady Cassidy.”

Ranon felt his body tighten, but he wasn’t sure why since the man had made no hostile move. “I do.”

“I heard she is now living in a village in the eastern Shalador reserve?”

“She is.”

“Is she intending to stay there?”

“She is.”

A hesitation. “Would there be room in that village for another shop?” Ranon blinked. Another one looking to run? He looked around the shop. “The Shalador people couldn’t afford your fine merchandise.”

“I can adapt and sell what people need.”

There weren’t any shops like this one in Eyota, but there were going to be the shops owned by Sadi. “The Warlord Prince of Dhemlan now owns a few shops in the village. His man of business is talking to anyone interested in managing those shops. Lord Marcus will be in Eyota for a couple more days.”

“Thank you for the information.”

As the merchant went behind the counter, Ranon spotted the small boxes of chocolates. He winced at the price, but he chose the box that held a dozen pieces—three each for Cassidy, her mother Devra, Shira, and Reyhana.

He set the box on the counter. The merchant looked at the box, then reached under the counter, set a box twice that size beside the one Ranon chose, and vanished the smaller box.

“The one you chose is stale,” he said. “I’ll give you this one for the same price.”

Ranon frowned. “Why would you leave out stale sweets?”

The merchant smiled wearily. “It doesn’t sting as much when they are stolen.”

“Have you reported this theft?” Ranon asked. “Who has been stealing from you?”

The man’s silence was the answer.

Ranon paid for the chocolates, then vanished the box and headed for the door. He wanted to get away from here. He wanted to be home.

But he hesitated at the door and turned to look at the merchant. “If you come to Eyota, tell Lord Marcus I suggested he talk to you.”

“Thank you, Prince.”

As he rode back to the Coaching station to return the horse, he kept his eyes on the street, aware of how many people noticed him and half raised a hand to catch his attention. He’d had enough for one day—too much for one day—so he pretended he didn’t see them.

But he couldn’t ignore the four Warlord Princes who walked out of the Coaching station just as he rode up.

He hadn’t ridden with any of them during the uprisings, and didn’t know any of them as friends. But when there were only a hundred of your caste left to defend your land, you knew the names and faces—and reputations—of those men.

“Ranon,” Ferall said, sounding cordial—and surprised. Since Ferall’s Opal Jewel outranked the other three, he stood as their leader while they were together.

“Ferall,” Ranon said. Then he nodded to the other men. “Gentlemen.”

“You were up to the mansion?” Ferall asked.

He shook his head. “Had some personal business in the town. I offered to pick up a couple of things for the Ladies that weren’t available in Eyota.”

“We have some personal business here ourselves,” Ferall said.

Like a meeting with Theran? But it wasn’t a question to ask, because silence was being offered. They wouldn’t mention his presence in the town to Theran and he wouldn’t mention them to the court by name.

He nodded and led the horse to the stables. Then he caught the Opal Wind and headed back to Eyota.

He’s dancing on the knife’s edge, Cassidy thought as she listened to Ranon’s too carefully thought-out report. He was skilled enough at offering this kind of information that she couldn’t tell what he was withholding, only that he wasn’t telling her everything.

She glanced at her Master of the Guard. Whatever reason Ranon had for tempering his words now, he was going to tell Talon everything.

Easy enough to guess though. He’d been in Grayhaven. If he’d had a meeting with Theran—or Kermilla—he wouldn’t want her to know. Then again, Shira had said that she had sent Ranon to Grayhaven because of a vision.

Did the reason really matter? Cassidy wondered. Did whatever Ranon was hiding matter? There were people who wanted to leave Grayhaven and begin a new life, and had asked a member of her First Circle for help. She had the uneasy feeling that some of those people might not have any life if she didn’t support the tentative offers Ranon had made on behalf of Queen and court.

And in truth, he had acted as a Warlord Prince in Kaeleer would have acted. He had acted because he believed in her and the Old Ways her presence was bringing back to the Blood in Dena Nehele.

When Ranon finished his report, a heavy silence filled the room as all the First Circle who had returned from their duties in time for this meeting waited for her response.

She stood up and walked over to Ranon, who tensed but showed no other sign of nerves.

“Since the day I met you, you have championed the Shalador people, argued so their concerns wouldn’t be ignored. Today you are standing for a people who are not your own but needed someone to speak for them. By doing so, you honor the justice I want for all the people of Dena Nehele. I’m so proud of you and—” Her throat suddenly closed. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over. She swallowed hard, put a hand on her chest, and said, “My heart is too full for words.”

Suddenly she was in his arms, being hugged breathless. Then he released her and stepped back.

Wiping tears off her cheeks, Cassidy looked at Gray and Powell. “We need to consider land and buildings. Any suggestions?”

“If the merchant is willing to be a manager rather than own a shop, I think he’ll be a good choice for one of Prince Sadi’s shops,” Powell said. “However, I suggest that a condition of his managing a shop in this village is that he hire one or two Shaladorans who want to learn the merchant trade and teach them the skills needed to run their own shops one day.”

Cassidy’s smile widened until her muscles ached. “That’s an excellent idea.”

“The guards who have families may want to look at the available cottages within the Queen’s square,” Archerr said. “From a tactical point of view, having more trained fighters within that ground is better for all of us.”

“Agreed,” Talon said.

“So we should pick a couple of cottages?” Powell asked.

“You will not,” Cassidy and Shira said.

Powell blinked.

“The women will choose their own homes,” Cassidy said firmly.

Powell blinked again, apparently not sure if there was any safe ground at the moment. “Very well. We will charge rent?”

Cassidy started to deny it, but Ranon said, “That’s fair. The village is giving the land and buildings to the court to do with as you please. That doesn’t mean letting anyone beyond the First Circle live here free. Cassie, if you don’t want to keep the rent as income for yourself or the court, it could go back into the village treasury. Or you can offer the cottages as part of the wages the guards receive from the village treasury or the tithes.”

Cassidy chewed on her lower lip. Too much to think about.

“Why don’t we work out those kinds of details later?” Powell suggested.

Gray looked up from a rough sketch of the village and the available buildings. “Ranon, what’s this place beyond the village?”

Ranon braced his hands on the table and leaned to see the sketch better. “Used to be a kind of tradesman’s school. I think. My grandfather might remember when it was last inhabited.”

“Would it work for craftsmen?” Gray asked. “It looks like a walled community that has a considerable bit of open land attached to it. And it’s a couple of miles beyond the rest of the village.”

Ranon nodded. “It was far enough out to be vulnerable to attack. I think that’s why it was abandoned.”

“We don’t have to worry about attacks now,” Gray said. “How about offering this place to the landens?”

Cassidy saw something flicker in Ranon’s eyes when Gray said they didn’t have to worry about attacks. “You think the landens would be at risk if they lived so close to us?”

“No,” Ranon said quickly. “In fact, this might be a fair compromise. They’ll have a place that is their own, but it’s close enough for them to come into the village for market day and other supplies. There’s enough land attached to the place for them to graze their livestock as well as grow some crops beyond kitchen gardens. Only one big barn, but it was built to hold all the animals in the community, so it might do for them for this year at least.”

“So we’re agreed on what we can offer?” Cassidy asked, looking at her First Circle and waiting for their nods of agreement. “In that case, Ranon, go back and talk to them.”

“I’ll draft letters of passage,” Powell said. “That way if the landens are stopped along the way, the Blood will know they’re traveling at the Queen’s command.”

“Good idea,” Talon said. “Ranon, see if the guards who don’t have families to settle would be willing to ride escort for the landens.”

“I’ll ask,” Ranon said.

“Gray, get a couple of horses saddled,” Talon said. “I want to take a look at these places, and I want you to come with me since you’ve been looking at these buildings more than the rest of us.”

“Yes, sir.” Gray vanished the sketch, gave Cassidy a smile, and left the room.

“I think that will be all, gentlemen,” Powell said. “If you would come to my office, we’ll discuss tomorrow’s duties.”

Powell had a knack for being a Steward, Cassidy thought as the men except Ranon and Talon left the room.

“Cassidy, Reyhana, and I have drum practice tonight, so I think Maydra prepared a stew for dinner,” Shira said, looking at Ranon. “I’ll see if it’s ready so you can have a quick meal before you head back out.”

“Before you go,” Ranon said. He called in a box, set it on the table, and nudged it toward Cassidy. “I picked up some chocolates for you Ladies.”

Cassidy stared at the box, then let out a whoop of laughter. “You really were nervous about this report, weren’t you?”

Looking completely baffled, Ranon said, “Huh?”

“The last time I saw a box of chocolates this size was when my father had done something to piss off my mother and was trying to work his way back to the sweeter side of her temper.” Cassidy looked at Ranon more closely. Hell’s fire. The man was blushing.

*You hit the target dead center that time,* Shira said on a distaff thread. She hurried out of the room.

Ranon was strong, brave, as arrogant as any other Warlord Prince, and wouldn’t back down from a fight. But he had shy spots when it came to living with women, and he wasn’t always sure of how he should behave.

Then again, maybe he did understand how some things balanced other things.

She picked up the box, thanked him, and left the room.

Shira was waiting for her.

“Do you think this is in proportion?” Cassidy asked, lifting the box.

Shira frowned at the box. “In proportion to what?”

“To whatever Ranon thought would hurt so much that I would need this much consolation.”

Talon used Craft to close the door. Then he put an aural shield around the room and a Sapphire lock on the door. The last wasn’t to keep Ranon in as much as to keep everyone else out.

He studied the Shaladoran’s back. Stiff. Tense. Waiting for the Master of the Guard to make the first move.

“Tell me what you wouldn’t tell her,” Talon said.

Ranon turned around.

Hell’s fire. How had the man managed to hide that much anger?

“Theran has given his . . . Lady . . . free run of the town. The Warlord brothers who hurt the landen girl? She brought them with her to the landen part of town—and then threatened the guards when they stood by our Queen’s command. I gather she’s been stealing from some of the merchants. And she has the expectation that, come spring, Cassidy is going to be gone and she is going to be the Queen of Dena Nehele.” Ranon’s hands curled into fists. “And since that expectation was the reason Cassie ran in the first place, I was not going to tell her about the rumors.”

Talon frowned. Landens, guards, and merchants were all looking to leave the town? To him that added up to more than rumors. “What else?”

“I met four Warlord Princes who were just coming into town as I was leaving. I think all four of them come from the Heartsblood River Province.”

Recruiting, Talon thought bitterly. Trying to woo enough Warlord Princes to support Kermilla and form a court in the spring that would be strong enough to challenge Cassidy’s—and break Cassidy’s court in the process.

But he’d known when they left Grayhaven that Theran wanted Kermilla to rule and Cassidy’s court would break when Cassidy’s First Escort, the man who had brought her to this land in the first place, walked away. And the reason he said nothing then was the same reason he would say nothing now: Gray.

The man Gray was becoming might be able to serve in a court, or at least fill an empty space and keep this court intact. He wanted to give the boy as much time to season as possible before that decision had to be faced.

“You hear anything else, I want to know,” Talon said. “I’ll make sure the Steward is aware that we may be looking at a fight come spring. But it doesn’t go further than the three of us. You understand me?”

“Yes, sir, I do,” Ranon replied.

“Get some food and head out,” Talon said. “Take Burne and Haele with you. And take the biggest Coach you can handle from the Coaching station here.”

Ranon paled. “You’re talking about a fast retreat. Take the most vulnerable and run. Leave the stronger to pack up what can be saved before the enemy takes notice. You can’t believe Theran would attack women and children, landen or otherwise. Youcan’t believe that.”

He didn’t believe it possible of the boy he’d raised, but he wasn’t so sure of the man anymore. With Kermilla holding the leash, he wasn’t sure what Theran would do.

“How many times have you seen someone poised to run who didn’t survive long enough to find safe ground?” Talon asked. Ranon paled even more, which told him the man had seen firsthand what had happened to some of those people. “I don’t care if you stuff them into a Coach and move them on the Winds or have them on the road in wagons, but you get those people out of Grayhaven tonight.”

Talon released the Sapphire lock and dropped the aural shield.

Looking dazed, Ranon walked out of the room.

Talon sank in a chair and rubbed his maimed left hand over his face.

So Theran was recruiting. And either Kermilla was making an ambitious assumption because she was living in Theran’s house—and sharing his bed?—or he had told her he was going to try to make her the Queen of Dena Nehele.

Damn young fool. With Cassidy, they had a real chance to bring Dena Nehele back to what it had been. If Theran let a pretty face dazzle him stupid, he could ruin this for all of them.

Before that happened, he, Talon, who had been Jared and Lia’s friend, would spill whatever blood needed to be spilled. Even if he had to tear his own heart out in the process.

I still think he’s a good man, but he’s not a good leader. He’s proving that every time he doesn’t stand against Kermilla and defend his people. So I promise you this, Lia. I won’t let your bloodline destroy your people, no matter the price.

Having made that promise, he rose and went out to the stables to join Gray.

Theran leaned back to let the servant he’d hired for a thief’s wage remove his plate.

The dinner wasn’t going well. That wasn’t Kermilla’s fault. She was doing her best to entertain these men, but he should have realized Warlord Princes who had spent most of their lives being both predator and prey in the ongoing fight to protect what they could of Dena Nehele wouldn’t have much interest in the conversation of a twenty-one-year-old woman they couldn’t bed.

They were polite. He couldn’t fault them for their manners. They even extended the courtesy of showing interest they clearly didn’t feel. At least, it was clear to him.

They were also getting pissed off at Correne’s catty remarks. The girl wasn’t liked in her own village. In fact, she was one of the young Queens the Warlord Princes were vehemently opposed to seeing rule even the smallest village. That she seemed to be trying to compete with Kermilla for the men’s attention—and the fact that Kermilla was taking the bait and blatantly flirting—wasn’t lost on these men.

“Kermilla has been helping the Queens in the northern Provinces re-learn the aspect of their power that nourishes the land and benefits the harvest,” Theran said, laying his hand lightly on Kermilla’s wrist.

She gave him an arch look, and for a moment he thought she might say something imprudent. Then she slipped her wrist out from under his hand and smiled at Ferall.

“Yes,” she said. “I was shocked to learn that my Sisters had forgotten such a basic part of what makes a Queen a Queen.”

The skin around Ferall’s eyes tightened.

Kermilla added hastily, “So I was, naturally, pleased to be of some small service to them.”

“You haven’t set up a court yet?” Ferall asked.

“Silly man, of course I have a court.” Kermilla gave Ferall a dazzling smile. “I rule a Blood village and a landen village in Dharo.”

“So who has been taking care of the Queen’s duties there while you’ve been visiting Theran here?”

Anger flashed through Theran. Had Kermilla heard the criticism in that question?

Kermilla put aside the flirtatious playfulness as easily as she might put aside a shawl. She gave Ferall a look at the Queen beneath the young-woman banter. “Dharo is an old Territory with a strong web of Queens. The village I rule can be run very well by my Steward and Master of the Guard for the time being. I am kept apprised of what is happening there and would return home in an instant if I was urgently needed.” She placed her hand on Theran’s arm. “I am not negligent in my duties, Prince Ferall, which is what you are implying. But a village that is well established requires little supervision from its Queen, so I offered to stay and give Theran whatever assistance I can in repairing the damage that has been done to his people.”

Her speech warmed Theran’s heart, but Ferall seemed less impressed. He gave Theran a hard look and said, “I thought that’s why Lady Cassidy came here. I thought that’s why we all agreed to have her as the Queen. And she didn’t leave the people she’d promised to rule in order to ‘give assistance.’ ”

Where was that anger coming from? Theran wondered. Nothing Kermilla said should have offended Ferall that much. Unless he wanted to be offended for some reason?

Kermilla, however, felt the punch in Ferall’s words. “No, she didn’t leave her people,” she snapped. “She didn’t have any. She wasn’t Queen enough to hold on to her court!”

“Kermilla,” Theran said in soft warning, touching her wrist again.

Kermilla pulled away from him. “And where is Cassidy now? Here in the capital city? No. She’s in some cow-dung village that belongs to a people the rest of you would rather pretend don’t exist.”

“Hold your tongue, girl,” Ferall snarled. “You don’t know us. Any of us. Especially the Shaladorans.”

“I know Cassidy is a country girl from a trademan’s family who can’t talk about anything except livestock and crops and wouldn’t know how to sit at a table with a true aristo if all your lives depended on it.”

Theran’s heart jumped in his throat. Thank the Darkness these men didn’t know about Cassidy’s connection to Sadi and his wife. Those two were as aristo as you could get.

“Her manners are as rough as her face, and neither is fit for polite company,” Kermilla finished, her chest rising and falling impressively as she sucked in air.

Correne snickered. “Back in her old village, they called Freckledy the ‘spotted draft horse of Queens.’ ”

A tense silence shrouded the table for a long, long moment.

Then Ferall looked Theran in the eyes and pushed back his chair. “We’re done here. There’s nothing more to say.”

Ferall walked out of the room, followed by the other three Warlord Princes.

Stunned, Theran didn’t move for several heartbeats. Then he ran after them and caught them at the front door.

“Ferall, wait.” He grabbed the other man’s arm.

“There’s nothing more to say.” Ferall pulled out of Theran’s grasp.

“She’s young and high-spirited.”

“Too young,” Ferall said. “She should have slapped that little bitch down for insulting the Queen like that. And if people in her old village did say that about Cassidy, who told Correne about it so that it could be slung around here?”

“Probably one of Kermilla’s escorts,” Theran snapped. “They’re here too, and they come from Dharo.”

“A court takes its temper from its Queen,” Ferall said. “And what was at that table tonight is not something I want ruling my village. Good night, Theran.”

He let them walk away. There was nothing else he could do.

No, he thought as he closed the door, there was something he could do. But he would wait until Kermilla retired for the evening. Maybe he’d even wait until tomorrow when things settled down a little more.

Hell’s fire, Ranon thought when he led the horse out of the Coaching station stables and ran into Ferall and the other three Warlord Princes. Could his timing be any worse today?

“Ferall,” he said, then nodded to the other men.

“More personal business?” Ferall asked.

Ranon shook his head. “Queen’s business in the town.” Meaning, it wasn’t the business of anyone who lived in the mansion.

Ferall hesitated. Actually looked uncomfortable. “Does the Queen have any objections to visitors in her home village?”

What an odd question. “No objections at all,” Ranon said.

“Would it be all right if the four of us came by a week from today to take a look around?”

Something was going on. Too bad he didn’t know what it was—and couldn’t afford to care. Not tonight. “I can’t promise Lady Cassidy will be available, but I’ll make sure I’m there. Why don’t you come by in the morning?”

“We’ll do that. Good evening to you, Ranon.”

The other Warlord Princes followed Ferall into the Coaching station. Wasn’t any reason for them to hire a Coach to ride the Winds back to their homes—unless they wanted that time to talk among themselves before going their separate ways.

“That’s a worry for another day,” Ranon muttered as he mounted the horse. Good thing they hadn’t seen him leaving the Coach he’d brought. There would have been questions about that—and about Burne and Haele being with him if they’d been spotted by the other men.

He kept the horse at a walk, waiting for his Brothers in the court to catch up. When they did, the first thing Haele said was, “What was Ferall doing in town?”

“Not our business,” Ranon replied.

“You know better,” Burne said. “Ferall is a savage fighter, even beyond what you’d expect from the Opal. And it’s said he’s the eyes and ears of a half dozen Queens in the Province where he lives.”

Like me, Ranon thought. The Shalador Queens hadn’t left the reserves for a few generations. That had kept at least some of them safe from the twisted Queens. But that didn’t mean they hadn’t been aware of what was happening in the rest of Dena Nehele, because there had always been men who reported back to them.

And some of those men had paid for being a Queen’s eyes and ears by losing their eyes and ears—and tongue.

Ranon said, “Maybe we’ll have a better idea of what Ferall was doing here today when he comes to visit us in a week.”

Haele swore softly. They respected Ferall as a man, but he was a savage fighter. The thought of Ferall being in their village for any reason that wasn’t peaceful was a reason to sweat.

Don’t borrow trouble, Ranon thought. We’ve already got plenty.

They didn’t speak again until they reached the craftsmen’s courtyard and found it empty.

“Are we ahead of time?” Burne asked as he scanned the surrounding buildings and the street.

“No,” Ranon replied. “And if we were late, someone would have waited.”

“Unless they decided not to come,” Haele said.

Not likely.

Lord Rogir rode up a minute later.

“Those Warlord pricks found out where Weaver’s family lived. They tried to force their way in. My wife and daughter were there. I figured if we worked in teams and used some Craft we could get the households packed up faster.”

“Is everyone all right?” Ranon asked.

Rogir nodded. “My wife threw shields around the room where the females were and held on long enough for me and two other guards to arrive. We forced Garth and Brok to leave, but they’ll be back.”

“Won’t matter,” Ranon said. “Where is everyone?”

“Weaver’s wife and daughter are with mine at our house. Weaver and his son took off with their wagon, heading on the south road. They’ll reach his brother’s place by morning. I sent one of my men with them. Tanner almost has his family and tools packed up. His wife is also with mine. He and his sons are taking the wagon and heading out to his cousin’s place. Potter and two other families are still packing up. They’ve agreed to go to the Dairyman’s place.”

“That’s it?”

The guard nodded. “Don’t think the other landens around here believed any good would come of it, so they’re not leaving.”

Ranon called in the letters of passage. “You’ll need to get one of these to Weaver and make sure the other two parties have one, as well as a guard riding as escort.”

“Done,” Rogir said.

“I’ll need you to come with us to represent your men.”

Some nerves now, but Rogir nodded.

“We’ve got a Coach at the station. We’ll take the women and children and as much of the household goods as we can pack into the thing.”

“Appreciate it. We’ve all used Craft to vanish things and store them, but that takes power, and we’re all holding more than is comfortable.”

And compromising their ability to fight by draining the reserves in the Jewels that way.

“The men at the Coaching station said they have a Coach and driver we can use if we’re relocating folks,” Haele said. “I did tell them some of those people would be landens, and he said as a courtesy to the Queen, he’d charge the same price for each passenger.”

Another message, Ranon thought. Landens weren’t forbidden from buying passage on the Coaches that could ride the Winds, but they were usually charged double—sometimes triple—what any of the Blood would pay, so most couldn’t afford the luxury of speed.

A feeling crawled just under his skin, scratching at him. He used to feel like this when he was trying to finish an assignment and get out before a Queen’s guards arrived.

“Let’s do this and get out of here,” he growled.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one who had that feeling because they all settled into their tasks with grim efficiency, and by the quiet hours of deep night, they were all out of Grayhaven and traveling, by one means or another, to Eyota.