Shalador's Lady

CHAPTER 37

Cassidy entered the kitchen, rubbing her hands. A brisk walk on a crisp morning had woken her up and made her look forward to a few hours in a warm room, even if she wasn’t looking forward to working her way through the correspondence, requests, and other paperwork that had arrived like a steady snowfall since the Winsol celebrations ended two weeks ago. Just as well that the new year began in the winter season. If she was diligent, she figured she could get through all the paperwork before spring planting.

Birdie gave her a look. Before Cassidy could say anything, the assistant housekeeper made a shooing motion. “I got a pot of spiced tea almost ready for you, and I’ll warm up a couple of those fruit tarts Maydra baked yesterday.”

“I thought we devoured them all at dinner last night,” Cassidy said.

Birdie smiled. “We put a couple aside to go with your morning pot of tea.”

Grinning, Cassidy went to her office. A fire was burning nicely. A heavy shawl and blanket were laid out on the stuffed chair near the hearth, in case she began to feel chilled while working at her desk. And Powell had sorted through the new sack of mail, separating correspondence from family and friends from invitations, requests for audiences, and correspondence from Dena Nehele’s Queens. There were also pens and a stack of the inexpensive paper she preferred using for notes and instructions within the court.

Sitting at the desk, she closed her eyes.

It was lovely to feel cared for, to have someone do little things like save a fruit tart or make sure pens and paper were easily at hand. It was lovely to hear Birdie and Frannie singing while they tidied up the Residence, to hear Elle and Maydra laughing, to hear the ease in Dryden’s voice when he asked her to wait a moment while he instructed the young footman in the proper way to do something that involved her.

And it was a relief that her First Circle was finally learning to relax a bit. She’d notice a difference in all of them during the second half of Winsol. Oh, there was still the sharp, assessing glance whenever anyone who wasn’t First Circle approached her, and her men were always going to rise to the killing edge when someone outside the court or the home village came near her—Jaenelle’s last note confirmed that. But some underlying tension had disappeared. Shira also had noticed the difference but couldn’t explain it either, so they’d concluded that it was something men considered private and wouldn’t divulge unless given a direct order from their Queen.

And their Queen didn’t see any reason to push them about something that had made them happier.

Opening her eyes, Cassidy picked up the letter opener and started on the stack of correspondence from the Queens.

It was lovely to receive these notes, to read the caution and hope beneath the stiff phrases of the Queens in the northern Provinces and to read the growing confidence and warmth of the Queens in the Shalador reserves and the southern Provinces.

Many of them were interested in sending members of their courts to learn from the two Protocol instructors she had hired to work with courts and teachers so that the people of Dena Nehele would learn Protocol and the Old Ways from people who lived by the Old Ways. Two of the cottages in the Queen’s square were being repaired and cleaned for the Warlord and witch. They still hadn’t decided where the “school” would be located. She’d suggested another empty cottage in the square. Her First Circle had vehemently opposed having that many strangers coming and going within the boundaries of land that was supposed to be secure ground.

She’d resigned herself to the time it would take to negotiate with her men. Hell’s fire, it had taken days to get them to agree to let the instructors live in the square, and they only gave in about that after Gray, Ranon, and Talon met the two people at the Keep—and received confirmation that Prince Sadi and the High Lord approved of these instructors and thought they would fit in easily with Eyota’s residents. What sealed the deal was learning that the Warlord came from Scelt and was used to living around Scelties and the Lady from Nharkhava, being an enthusiastic reader of the Tracker and Shadow stories, was willing to learn to live with Scelties.

Cassidy glanced at Vae, who was snoozing in front of the hearth.

Let the Lady from Nharkhava learn on her own like the rest of us did, Cassidy thought as she opened the last letter in that stack—a letter that bore the Grayhaven seal.

Then she forgot about Scelties and Protocol instructors, forgot about the spiced tea and fruit tarts, forgot about all the hope and promise in the letters she had already read.

She’d been so happy and so busy building a life and working to fulfill her promise to these people that she’d forgotten it was temporary—until this note from Kermilla reminded her.

“. . .I’m sure you won’t do anything to make the transition difficult . . . valuable asset to the Territory . . . treat the reserves like a Province and appoint you their Queen.”

“To do what, Kermilla?” Cassidy asked. “Encourage these people to break their backs and their hearts so that you can buy another fancy dress?”

Vae raised her head. *Cassie?*

“I can’t do that to them. I won’t do that to them.”

*Cassie!*

She wasn’t aware of Vae leaving the room, but the Sceltie returned with Powell.

“Vae says something upset you,” Powell said. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot.”

“I’m sorry, Lady. I don’t understand.”

She handed him the note.

His expression turned grim. “I didn’t think Theran was really that much of a fool.” Then he sighed. “The First Circle is out and about on the court’s business, so there’s nothing to do about this bit of information until evening when everyone has returned and Talon can join us. We can discuss it then.”

What was there to discuss? In another two months, she wouldn’t have a court. Just like the last time.

Her stomach rolled. Her skin turned clammy.

Was that why the men had relaxed? Had they been promised a place in Kermilla’s court and had the assurance that their own status wouldn’t change? Come to think of it, her former court also had been more relaxed and considerate in the weeks before they’d all walked away from her.

“Lady?” Powell reached for her. “What’s wrong?”

How could he not know what was wrong?

She pulled away from him before he could touch her. “I’m not feeling well.”

He studied her, and she saw nothing in his eyes except concern. “You’ve been working steadily all morning,” he finally said. “Why don’t you rest for a while?”

She pushed away from the desk. She had to get away from him before she got sick. “I’ll do that. I’ll go up to my room and rest for a while. Please ask Reyhana to open the invitations and review the calendar. It will be good practice for her.” She hesitated, then added, “I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Shall I have Birdie or Frannie bring up a tray? Or ask Lady Shira to make up a healing brew?”

She shook her head. “I’m not hungry, and there’s no need to bother Shira about this.” What ailed her was something the Black Widow Healer couldn’t fix.

She left her office, aware that Powell followed her to the door and watched her.

Vae followed her all the way up to her room.

“I want to be alone, Vae.”

*No. You are upset, and your smells are strange.*

“Leave me alone.”

*No.* Vae jumped up on Cassidy’s bed and growled a warning.

Cassidy studied the Sceltie’s Purple Dusk Jewel. Outranked and out-toothed.

*Why are you upset?*

It bubbled out, hot and bitter. “I’m going to lose this court. I’ve given the best that I have, but in two months, I’ll be replaced by another Queen.” Again.

*You are being foolish.*

“No, I’m not. Kermilla took my court before. She’ll do it again.”

Vae’s shock hit her as hard as a blow.

*You will not defend your males? You will not defend the other humans who belong to you?*

“Vae . . .”

Vae snarled. *When a Sceltie is given a flock to protect, she protects it. When a bad dog tries to take her flock, a Sceltie doesn’t tuck her tail between her legs and run away whining. A Sceltie fights.”

“Well, I’m not a Sceltie!”

*No, you are only human, but you are a Queen. You have shown your teeth before. Why won’t you show them now and drive the bad Queen away? Your males would fight for you. Why won’t you fight for them?*

“I would fight for them, with my last breath and beyond,” Cassidy shouted. “But they don’t . . .”

She stopped. Closed her eyes. Thought about Powell’s reaction to Kermilla’s letter.

Almost dismissive. A potential problem the men had been aware of, so it hadn’t come as a surprise, but it was nothing important enough to summon the court immediately.

Kermilla’s words felt like a knife twisting in her gut, but Vae’s words hurt more. Was she giving up on this court because her former court had walked away? Was she giving up without even asking what her First Circle wanted? Was she running away, whining, instead of fighting for what belonged to her?

Would a Sceltie give up her flock to another dog when she knew the dog would hurt what she’d promised to protect?

“Do Scelties ever get scared?”

*We get scared. But we still fight.*

Which are you going to be, Cassidy? A coward or a Queen?

Sighing, she kicked off her shoes and approached the bed. “Move over, Vae. I really don’t feel well right now. I need to rest for a bit.”

When Vae shifted, Cassidy lay down on top of the covers and closed her eyes.

*Cassie? What will you tell your males?*

“I don’t know. I’m confused.”

Vae settled beside her, warming her back. *That is foolish. This is not confusing. They are yours, and you will fight for them so they will not be forced to serve the bad Queen.*

Cassidy closed her eyes. Could it be that simple?

Gray stamped the snow off his boots and walked into Ranon’s kitchen. “It’s colder than Hell out there.” He stripped off his coat and hung it on a peg, then removed his boots and called in the soft house shoes Burle and Devra had given him for Winsol. “Ranon, you got anything hot to drink?”

“I’m making coffee, and have some whiskey to go with it,” Ranon replied.

Powell sat at the kitchen table with Shaddo. Archerr stayed near one of the windows, looking out at the yard—or at the Queen’s Residence.

Archerr was the escort on watch today. Why wasn’t the man at the Residence instead of standing in Ranon’s kitchen?

When Ranon asked him to stop by the house to talk, there had been some urgency in the psychic communication, but the Shalador Warlord Prince hadn’t indicated it was a court meeting rather than a personal conversation.

“What’s wrong?” Gray asked.

Ranon put the pot of coffee, the bottle of whiskey, and five mugs on the table. “It’s Powell’s meeting.”

“This came with the rest of the day’s correspondence.” Powell called in a piece of expensive paper and handed it to Gray.

Ranon came around the table. Leaning over Gray’s shoulder, he read the letter and began swearing viciously as he paced around the kitchen. Gray read it and handed it to Shaddo, whose eyes glazed with killing fury as he gave the paper to Archerr.

“That bitch was gone,” Shaddo snarled. “Talon told us she had gone back to Dharo for good.”

“Because that’s what Theran told him,” Archerr said.

“No, Theran only said Kermilla had gone back to Dharo to celebrate Winsol with her people,” Ranon said. “Talon had the impression Theran didn’t expect her to return, but Grayhaven didn’t say that.”

“Doesn’t matter what was or wasn’t said. She was gone, and now she’s back,” Shaddo snapped.

“Where is Cassie?” Gray asked.

Ranon whirled to face Powell. “Is she giving up and running again? Hell’s fire! What more do we need to do before she believes in us?”

Hearing grief and desperation under Ranon’s anger, Gray raised a hand—and immediately felt the other Warlord Princes in the room yank on the leash to regain control of their tempers.

“Cassie isn’t going to run anywhere,” he said quietly. He didn’t think she would run. Not anymore. But if she did because of Kermilla, he’d find her and bring her back. “Powell?”

“After reading Kermilla’s letter, she said she wasn’t feeling well and went up to her room. Vae went with her.” Dry amusement filled Powell’s shadowed eyes. “Don’t worry, Ranon. Lady Cassidy isn’t going anywhere without our being informed.”

The tension in the room eased a little.

Powell’s amusement faded. “Perhaps I was too dismissive and didn’t take into account Cassidy’s feelings about the other Queen.”

“Kermilla is a scar on Cassie’s heart, and that scar bleeds every time Kermilla brushes against Cassie’s life,” Gray said. “But she’ll get past today’s hurt and go on.”

Cassie would learn to live with her scars just like he was learning to live with his.

“Is she going to let that bitch keep threatening everything we’ve all worked for?” Archerr asked.

“Cassie isn’t letting that bitch do anything,” Shaddo growled. “This mess is Theran’s doing.”

“There’s an easy way to fix it,” Archerr said. “It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

They looked at him, and Gray saw the same question in all their eyes. “No, that isn’t the way to fix it. Not this time. When Cassie knows we’ve prepared for this, when she knows we’re going to stand with her, she’ll stand with us. She won’t turn her back on her people.”

“Then let’s make sure she knows we’re going to stand with her,” Ranon said.

“I’ve already contacted those I could reach in the First Circle who were working beyond the village today,” Powell said. “They’ll contact the others, so we’ll all be here around sunset.”

“Fine,” Gray said. “Then let’s have some of that coffee before we all get back to work.”

Cassie opened her eyes. Full dark outside. She must have slept for a few hours—and someone must have thrown a blanket over her and added a warming spell to it. Otherwise she would have gotten cold and woken up.

She tried to shift. The blanket grunted and yawned. A moment later, a small ball of witchlight floated near the bedroom door, lighting the room enough for her to see that she was pinned down by Scelties. Vae, Khollie, and Darkmist. Darcy, Keelie, and . . .

Catching the scent of leather and horses, she twisted to look behind her.

. . . Lloyd.

“Let me up.”

They were awake and watching her. Not one of them moved.

“I have to pee. Now. Let me up.”

They jumped off the bed. One of them used Craft to open her door. Darcy and Lloyd took up a position in the hallway, blocking access to anything except the bathroom and other bedrooms on this side of the staircase. Vae and Keelie trotted in front of her. Darkmist and Khollie followed so close behind she was afraid of kicking them if she raised her foot for a normal step. So she shuffled to the bathroom.

Khollie followed her inside.

“No,” Cassidy said. “I can do this by myself.”

Khollie wagged his tail and didn’t move.

“Out.”

He didn’t move until Vae grffed at him.

She closed the door in their furry faces, but as she prepared to use the toilet, she could sense them—Vae, Darkmist, and Khollie—standing right in front of the door and knew those keen ears would be pricked to catch every sound.

“Back off,” she growled.

She’d bet they didn’t take more than one step back. And she’d bet a season’s income that those ears stayed pricked.

She wasn’t going to win this argument, so she pretended she had privacy and took care of business.

*Your males want to talk to you,* Vae said when Cassidy opened the door.

She wasn’t sure she was ready to talk to them. Not that she had a choice. Darcy and Lloyd took point. Keelie and Khollie blocked her on either side. Vae and Darkmist were behind her in prime herding position.

Cows and sheep must be terrified to see even one of them coming, Cassidy thought as they escorted her to the big meeting room. They escorted her all the way in, then turned and trotted out, closing the door behind them.

Her whole First Circle was there, along with Gray and Shira, but Reyhana was not.

Reyhana had the kind of strength that would attract strong males, the kind of strength that would cause Kermilla to see the girl as a serious rival in a couple of years. Would Kermilla take steps to eliminate a potential rival? It was a possibility.

And another reason to show my teeth, Cassidy thought.

A place at the table had been left for her—on the far side, away from the door, and smack in the middle. A not-so-subtle way of telling her that she wasn’t getting out of the room without going through her men.

She found that comforting, and she realized Vae was right. This wasn’t confusing at all.

Gray came up to her and brushed a hand over her hair. “You feeling better after getting some rest?”

She smiled at him. “Yes, I am.”

He studied her as if he’d been prepared for one kind of mood and was faced with another. Then he smiled in return. “Come over here. We have some things to show you.”

He led her to her place at the table, but she felt too restless to sit down. And she wasn’t sure how to interpret the men’s hard eyes and grim faces since Powell had seemed so dismissive earlier.

“Powell told you about the letter,” she said.

“We saw that piece of shit,” Talon replied. “It pissed off the rest of us, but if it knocked your legs out from under you for even a little while, I guess it was a good ploy for Kermilla to use.”

“Ploy?” Cassidy stared at her Master of the Guard.

“You bluff well enough when we play cards. I’m surprised you couldn’t see this for what it is.” Talon leaned across the table toward her. “Direct question, Cassie. You give us a direct answer. Are you walking away from us? Yes or no.”

“No, I’m not walking away from you, but—”

“ ‘But’ wasn’t one of the choices,” Talon growled.

“—my contract ends in two months.”

“Only if you choose to end it,” Powell said. “The provisional contract was a way for us to save face if you chose not to stay with us.”

That hadn’t been her impression of what that contract meant. “Kermilla says she’s going to be the Queen.”

“Not without a fight,” Ranon said.

Fight with words. With Protocol. By taking this challenge before a tribunal of Queens, assuming she and Kermilla both had an official court. That’s what Ranon meant. Didn’t he?

She looked at the men again. Warlords and Warlord Princes. Warriors who had already survived years of battles, a lifetime of fighting in one way or another.

They weren’t going to fight with words or with Protocol or by arguing before a tribunal to decide who would rule their Territory. They would meet their challengers on a killing field as they had done before.

“If this turns into a fight, some of you could die,” she said, chilled by the possibility.

“Some of us might die either way,” Ranon said. “We’re not going to submit to a Queen who cares nothing about our people or our land. We’ve seen what that kind of Queen can do to a Territory. And over these past few months, we’ve seen what a good Queen can do. We’d rather fight for you than just fight against Kermilla, but one way or another we’re going to fight—and some of us will die.”

“No,” she whispered. For a moment, she felt grateful when Gray slipped an arm around her waist. Then she looked at him. Really looked at Prince Jared Blaed.

No longer a boy in a man’s body who would be tucked away with the other young boys. This time he would stand on a killing field with the rest of the men.

“Besides,” Ranon said, “just before we helped James Weaver and the other landens relocate here, he told me flat out that if Kermilla became Queen, there would be another landen uprising. So there’s going to be a war one way or the other.”

No. “If it has to be physical confrontation, it would be Kermilla’s court fighting against mine to settle who ruled. It wouldn’t be a war.”

Talon made a rude noise. “Witchling, it’s not going to stay between the courts. There’s too much at stake. More at stake than we’ve had for a lot of years.”

“You’re going to give in just because some bitch tells you to go?” Shaddo growled at her.

“No, I’m not giving in, but you’re talking about war.”

The thought of empty chairs around the table kept her arguing. “When Theran leaves it will break the court. We’ll have an unofficial court going up against an official one.”

“You don’t know that,” Talon said. “He needs to convince eleven other men to serve Kermilla, and I don’t think that’s going to be an easy task.” He nodded at Gray. “And we’ve already got his replacement.”

“Remember the lessons I was taking at the Keep?” Gray asked her. “I was training to be a First Escort. To be your First Escort. I’m qualified, Cassie. The High Lord, Daemon, and Lucivar all agree I can serve you and the court in this way. And the High Lord gave me this.” He called in a sheet of paper and handed it to her.

She read it and landed in the chair. Hard. “Mother Night, he’s not hiding his teeth, is he?”

Not a dismissal that would allow Theran to honorably accept another contract, but a kind of demotion that would have made Queens in Kaeleer take a wary look at the man if he came looking for a position of power in one of their courts.

“That letter is a well-phrased kick in the balls,” Talon said. “It will be even more impressive once Powell copies it over and it bears your signature and seal. And the day after Theran gets that letter, you can count on every Warlord Prince within Dena Nehele’s borders and in the Tamanara Mountains knowing that Jared Blaed is now the First Escort to the Queen of Dena Nehele.”

Gray sat beside her. “You’ve shown us what’s possible. We’re going to fight to keep what you’ve given us.”

Cassidy pushed away from the table, needing a little space, needing to move, to think.

She’d thought her men would step aside for Theran’s choice because he was the last Grayhaven. But they were going to fight. Not just for her. She never would accept a war and the loss of life just to keep her in power. But this wasn’t about her anymore. Not really. This was about holding on to the very things the Blood had said they wanted when she first came to Dena Nehele—a land that lived by the Old Ways, that held itself to the Blood’s code of honor.

Weren’t those the same things Lia and Jared had fought to keep in Dena Nehele for as long as possible?

A Sceltie fights for the ones who belong to her. So does a Queen.

She turned and looked at them. All of them.

Everything has a price. But, sweet Darkness, don’t let this price be too high.

“All right,” she said. “We fight.”

Fierce pride filled their eyes, and she hoped with everything in her that she would remain worthy of that pride.

Her legs suddenly felt shaky, so she returned to the table and sat down. Clasping her hands and pressing them against the table, she gave Talon a pleading look. “Isn’t there some other way?” Would they even consider bringing this to a tribunal of Queens if she could arrange to get one?

“None of us are afraid of fighting,” Talon said.

“There may be an alternative to war,” Powell said quietly. “Especially since Kermilla has conveniently given us justification to act.”

Cassidy looked at the men, who all seemed to be weighing Powell’s words on some internal scale. “I don’t understand.”

Talon rubbed his chin and said thoughtfully, “I doubt Theran knows Kermilla sent you that letter. Poor tactics. We’ve known since he met her that he wanted her to be the Queen, but I figured he wouldn’t make it an official challenge until he had the men who would form her First Circle. And he wouldn’t want that court made public until close to the time when the contract he signed with you was finished because that would give you less time to respond and find someone to take his place.” He gave her a fierce smile. “Kermilla made the first move without having sufficient backing. Now we can hit hard and fast.”

Leaning back in his chair, looking like a predator at ease, Talon said, “Powell, what’s your alternative to war?”

“Secession,” Powell said.

Silence.

Cassidy looked around the table and saw shock on everyone’s faces.

“The Shalador reserves don’t have enough land,” Ranon protested. “We wouldn’t be able to support the people without getting some of what we need from the other Provinces. Not for a good many years yet. And three reserves mean three battlegrounds. We don’t have enough trained warriors left to lead anyone else willing to fight. Not against the rest of Dena Nehele.”

“I wasn’t referring to just the Shalador reserves, Ranon,” Powell said. “You’re not taking into account the influence Lady Cassidy has had on the southern Provinces. I think given the choice of living in a Territory called Dena Nehele that is ruled by Lady Kermilla or living in a newly formed Territory ruled by Cassidy, they will be more interested in who rules the land than what the land is called.”

“You have a map of Dena Nehele in your office?” Talon asked.

Nodding, Powell called in the map and spread it out on the table.

“I had some time this afternoon to consider a few things the rest of you may not have thought about yet in terms of incentive,” Powell said as Talon studied the map. “The loan Gray acquired from Prince Sadi is a loan specifically to Lady Cassidy’s court, not the Queen of Dena Nehele’s court.”

Cassidy jerked in her seat. So did several of the men.

Powell smiled a tight smile. “Exactly. Prince Sadi was very precise in the wording of that loan. It doesn’t transfer to another Queen. If Cassidy’s court dissolves, the loan ends, and the Prince is within his rights to demand immediate repayment of whatever funds were used. However, the loan was not specific to Dena Nehele in terms of a name or boundaries. So if Dena Nehele is split between the Queens, any Provinces still under Cassidy’s rule could continue to request help for their people and businesses. Provinces under Kermilla’s rule could not make use of the loan and benefit from Prince Sadi’s generosity.”

“Oh, but . . .” Cassidy began.

“No!” several male voices replied.

“Everything has a price, Cassie,” Gray said. “The Blood who want Kermilla to rule can’t have you taking care of them.”

He was right. She knew he was right, but she thought of the letters she’d read that morning from the northern Queens and wondered what dreams might be crushed under the weight of Kermilla’s wardrobe.

“The Heartsblood River is the natural border between two Provinces,” Talon said, running a finger along the map. “It begins in the Tamanara Mountains and runs all the way to Reyna’s Lake on the western border. That would give us five Provinces, plus the Shalador reserves. Plenty of fresh water. Some small lakes and lots of streams and creeks for fishing. Farmland and pastureland. Some woodlands that can be nurtured and allowed to grow back. That will help rebuild the deer herds and other meat animals.”

Feeling dizzy, Cassidy leaned against Gray. “Everything south of the Heartsblood River? That’s almost a third of Dena Nehele!”

“Seems fair to me,” Talon said. “That’s enough land to stand on its own as a Territory, but not so much it would feel like a grab without the honesty of a fight.”

“It will be important to emphasize that we’re doing this to avoid a civil war,” Powell said. “We don’t want our families or the people we have promised to rule and protect to live under Kermilla’s hand. Instead of embroiling the Blood in a devastating fight, Lady Cassidy is relinquishing her claim to Dena Nehele and establishing this new Territory for the Blood who want to live by the Old Ways and want her guidance in order to do it.”

“Hell’s fire,” Shaddo said, breaking the silence that followed Powell’s words. “I’d be ashamed to fight against men who wanted that.”

“I hope you remember what you just said,” Talon told Powell. “I think we’re going to need something in writing.”

“I’ll draft something,” Powell said. “With the Lady’s permission.”

Feeling a bit battered—and wondering why they were bothering to ask her permission when they were barreling forward with a speed that left her breathless—Cassidy nodded.

“If Jared Blaed and Ranon are agreeable, I’d like them to show my draft to the High Lord and get his opinion,” Powell said. “In confidence. He has a way with words, and we’re trying to avoid a war, not start one.”

“We can do that,” Gray said, glancing at Ranon. “Once we’ve declared ourselves independent of Dena Nehele, I’d like Lucivar to come here for a day or two to give his opinion about what kind of defenses we need and where. No offense to you or your ability, Talon, but . . .”

“No offense taken,” Talon said. “Lucivar Yaslana has been feared for centuries for what he does on a killing field. We’d be fools not to take advantage of his experience and listen to any suggestions or advice he wants to give.”

“I think Jared Blaed and Ranon should meet with the Warlord Princes in the five southern Provinces,” Shaddo said.

“Why?” Ranon asked.

“First Escort and the Master of the Guard’s second-in-command? Your words are going to hold a lot of weight with the other Warlord Princes. You, Ranon, have always stood for the Shalador people. Jared’s people. And Jared Blaed is descended from Thera and Blaed. Balanced against Theran using the Grayhaven name and being Lia’s last descendant, I’d say that evens the field.”

“So we move fast,” Powell said. “Cassie sends the letter to Theran, stripping him of the title of First Escort, citing his failure to honorably perform his duties as the reason for the demotion. As the High Lord suggested.”

“He’ll start recruiting openly in response,” Archerr said.

“In the northern Provinces,” Talon said. “He doesn’t know Kermilla showed her hand, so he’ll start talking to the Warlord Princes farthest away from Eyota. Also, I suspect he’s been giving those men the impression that Cassie is going back to Dharo in the spring, leaving Kermilla a clear field, and that there won’t be an established Queen and court to challenge the upstart. Unless a man is truly drawn to Kermilla, he’ll think twice about signing on to serve in her court when he realizes it means going up against the ruling Queen and her court.”

“I think those of us who have been acting as court liaisons for the southern Provinces should head out tomorrow and set up the meetings,” Haele said. “Make it an official request to meet with the new First Escort and the Master’s second-in-command. It would also be good if we told them the Queens would be welcome to have an audience with Cassidy.”

“They’re always welcome,” Cassidy said, looking at her men. This might not end up being a war, but they were still preparing for a kind of battle.

“One last thing,” Powell said. “What are we going to call this new Territory?”

Cassidy looked at Ranon, who kept his eyes fixed on the table. “Ranon?” she said softly.

Obeying the sound of her voice, he looked at her.

Hope. The fulfillment of a dream. But for the first time since she’d met him, he was holding back, acting with fierce restraint.

“You and your people have dreamed for a long time that you would have a place of your own again,” she said. “That you would live in a land called Shalador.”

Ranon looked around the table. Cassidy’s heart ached with pride as every man nodded, giving his blessing to the name.

Ranon’s dark eyes filled with tears. He blinked them away. Then he said, “We have dreamed of this, but the Shalador people won’t build this new land alone, and the name should reflect all the people who call this land their home.” He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Shalador Nehele. I would like to call our new land Shalador Nehele.”

Cassidy swallowed hard to push down the lump in her throat. “That’s a fine name.”

“Then it’s settled,” Talon said, looking at her.

“It’s settled,” she agreed.

She’d barely said the words when someone tapped on the door. Dryden and the footman entered, carrying a tray of glasses and bottles of sparkling wine.

Seeing the number of bottles, Talon and Powell glanced at each other, then shrugged. Clearly, they had both sent an order to Dryden in anticipation of reaching an agreement.

Bottles were opened and glasses were filled.

The men and Shira raised their glasses.

“To Lady Cassidy and the Territory of Shalador Nehele,” Talon said.

Their voices rang all around her. “To Lady Cassidy.”