“Get into bed. I’ll be back in a moment.”
She nodded and hurried to the bed as he left. She snuggled under the blankets, wriggling around to warm up the sheets. Finally, the bed started to warm and she found herself feeling sleepy. She yawned again and felt her eyes getting heavy.
She saw Jonathan’s shadow go from the bathing room to the dressing room, and come back again. He sat on the edge of her bed, took off his shoes and then lay on top of the blankets next to her. She snuggled up next to him and he put his arm out to put around her. She lay her head against his side and breathed slowly. He always smelled like warm pie and pine needle, a strange combination but one Valerie had come to love.
They had been friends for so long, Valerie never felt embarrassed with him until she realised the time for embarrassment was passed, and it was too late anyway. She wondered what the courtiers and servants thought, but could not say she actually cared. Everyone knew they had been like brother and sister since her father had taken Jonathan in as a ward, and she had always assumed that if her father gave the okay everyone else would just accept their friendship.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Mmm…” She closed her eyes, “I suspect Lord Wilmont thinks me a wildcat.”
“I suspect Lord Wilmont will need reminding in the morning of how he broke his nose.”
Valerie sat up, “I broke his nose?”
Jonathan laughed. “Yep.”
Valerie flung herself back against the pillows. “God. What will Father say?”
“I think Henry–”
“What will Edmond say?” she groaned.
Jonathan just laughed again. “They will both say they shouldn’t have let a man court you without your knowing.”
“Ugh. Is that what he called it? How will I show may face tomorrow?”
“A dare sight better than he, I would think.”
Valerie sniggered and swatted at him. “You are terrible. This is the son of an earl we’re talking about. And I punched him in the face and broke his nose. No one will court me ever again.”
Jonathan put his arm around her again. “Is that so bad?”
“Not for me, no. But Edmond and Father must be furious. A proper lady marries.”
“You’re not a proper lady, Val–”
“Gosh, thanks.”
“No. You know what I mean. You’re going to be a knight. You won’t just be someone’s wife. When you marry, it will be for love and your husband will understand you and let you be yourself.” If Valerie had not known better, she would have said that Jonathan sounded bitter about it all.
“I often think you’ve thought more about my marriage than I have,” Valerie laughed, closing her eyes again.
“It wouldn’t surprise me.” He kissed the top of her head. “Go back to sleep, Val. You’ve still got training in the morning.”
If she had not felt so sleepy, Valerie would have shown her indignance. As it was, she merely mumbled, “Do I have to go, Jonny? Can’t I stay in bed?”
“No, Val,” he whispered. “You have to show your face and show them how tough you really are.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You have to.”
“You can’t make me.”
“I can.”
“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” she said.
He laughed. “All right, then.”
Chapter Four
True to Jonathan’s word, he made her go to training the next day. It was not nearly as bad as Valerie had expected. Stupid deWynstryngham had complimented the technique of her punch and, though they seemed to smile behind her back, there was no other mention of the night before. After a few days of training, Valerie fell back into a routine and eventually began to forget the potential implications of her actions.
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and, before she knew it, the first snow had begun to fall. They were not quite into winter yet, but they were higher than a lot of the country, so the snow started falling early.
She looked out the window, rubbing her arms for warmth. She had woken strangely early – at least, early for her – and was wasting as much time as she could before she had to dress and get to breakfast.
There was a fine dusting of white on all the surfaces below her. At first, she thought it was frost again. But she reached out to the windowsill and found it powdery to the touch. She smiled, thinking of all the exciting things that snow season brought. Then her smile fell as she thought of training in the cold and snow, especially when that snow turned to sleet and slush.
It was bad enough training during autumn, when the rains wet them to the skin and the weapons needed extra tending to stave off rust. At least then, the rains were refreshing not freezing, and your muscles did not lock up after being chilled and warmed so often.
She heard the sounds of stupid deWynstryngham and the others laughing outside her door as they went to breakfast and resolved to get herself dressed. She pulled her hair into a neater plait and rummaged around in her chest for her warmer clothes and an extra pair of socks; her boots might feel tighter but she would be thankful for the warmth soon.
On her way out the door, she glanced wistfully at her own blade and, not for the first time, relished the day she could wield it properly. She sighed, there was still almost five months until her eighteenth birthday and then another three or so until the graduate trainees entered the Senior Corps. Still, next July when she graduated, she would be able to wear her blade with pride befitting her station.
Valerie opened her door and found the corridor full of people rushing about. She walked out, pulling her jacket on as she closed the door behind her. She looked around, trying to see what all the fuss was about.
“Valerie!” she heard Jonathan call and turned towards his voice.
He was pushing his way through the throng towards her. He was dressed in plain, woollen gear today, rugged up against the cold. She noted he already wore gloves, though it seemed early in the season, but she supposed a lute player with frozen fingers would not be much use. She started to make her way towards him as well, looking around. It seemed trainees and soldiers of all ranks and ages were milling around, and she saw more servants than was usual for the barracks.
“What’s going on?” Valerie asked when they met.
“It’s bad, Val. There have been rumours for weeks, but we never though it would reach us.”
“What rumours? What’s happened?”
Jonathan gripped her arm strongly and pulled her through the crowd. She did not know how he managed it, but the people around them seemed to part at their passing, allowing them to slip through easily. If Valerie had not been so worried about whatever was going on, she would have complained at the strength of his grip – she had not known he had that much strength.
“So many. Just so many…” Jonathan was saying.
“Just so many what, Jon?” Valerie asked, trying not to fall over in his haste.
But he said nothing, merely pulled her out of the barracks, across the chilled courtyard and through to Edmond’s meeting chamber. Where the king and queen, her father, and the rest of the Privy Council were standing as close to the fire and each other that propriety allowed. She even saw Sir Gillam, his hand wrapped around a steaming mug.
“What the heck has happened?” Valerie hissed.
Jeanna saw them enter and came over. Jonathan bowed his head to her and hurried over to Henry and the others.
“Jeanna, what is going on?”
Jeanna took Valerie’s elbow and sighed. She looked grim. “Plague.”
Valerie was stunned. “What?”
Jeanna nodded. “For months, we have heard rumours of plague in the other countries. People falling sick after the ravages of the war. We thought, since we had not been so affected in Mor, that we would be spared. But it is not to be. We have had reports of people falling ill less than one day’s journey from here. It is now
just a matter of time before illness strikes here.” She shook her head sadly.
“What can we do?”
“We don’t know. Try to avoid widespread panic? Try to separate the poor and dying from ourselves? Neither of those things seem likely or appropriate…” It was the first time Valerie had seen Jeanna look so defeated.
Someone coughed and Jeanna whirled around, obviously in a state of panic. Edmond held his hand up to her, his other covering his mouth.
“I am fine, dear. It is just the cold.” He smiled at her and resumed his conversation with Henry and Jonathan.
Valerie began to wonder why a minstrel in training was part of the meeting – or her for that matter – when the door crashed open and Finola burst in, breathing heavily as though she had run. Millet, one of the older advisors – Valerie was sure he was a remnant of her grandfather’s reign – started forward to protest, but Edmond held him back with a hand gesture.
“What is it? What’s the matter?”
“Prince Daniel, sire. He has taken ill.”
There were gasps throughout the room.
“We are doomed!” Millet cried.
“Hush!” Henry strode forward, taking command. “Edmond, Jeanna, see to Daniel. We do not know it is the plague. Sickness is ridiculously common at this time of year.”
Edmond and Jeanna nodded. Edmond took Jeanna’s right hand, and her left clawed at Valerie. She looked to her father, who indicated she go with them. Valerie took Jeanna’s left hand and they followed Finola up to Daniel’s room. His room was an annex between his parents’ rooms, with its own door to the corridor for Nanny to come and go more easily.
Edmond ran to Daniel’s cot and leant over. Jeanna stood just inside the doorway, as though afraid to go any further. Valerie swayed between them, not sure who needed more comforting. Neither parent spoke, so Valerie edged towards Nanny, hoping for some answers.
“Nanny, what’s wrong with him?”
Nanny wiped her eyes and nose. “Oh, my lady,” she wailed and Valerie rolled her eyes despite the potential seriousness of the situation. “Not an hour ago, he got a fever, little mite. I bathed him in cold water, but that didn’t seem to help. Now he’s started coughing. I thought it best to send for his parents, it’s the first time he’s been sick in all his nine months.” She moaned and sniffled into a handkerchief.
Valerie touched her shoulder and tried to smile reassuringly. She felt a lump in her throat. Nanny must think Daniel quite sick to have sent for Edmond and Jeanna. Nevertheless, as her father said, it was not necessarily plague. Sickness was common, and just because he had never been sick before did not mean he could not get sick. Valerie took a deep breath, they were all overreacting and Daniel would be fine. She squared her shoulders, put on her bravest smile and turned back to Jeanna.
The queen still stood frozen with shock, her eyes locked on her husband, who was now holding Daniel close. Valerie went over to Jeanna, put her arm behind her back and tried to coax her forward. Jeanna just shook her head, the terror printed clearly on her face.
“Finola, can you get a clean bowl of water and some cloths, please?” Valerie asked quietly.
Finola nodded and scurried from the room while Valerie tried a different tack with Jeanna. She directed Jeanna towards one of the chairs and managed to get her to sit down. She put her hands on Jeanna’s knees and stared her in the face.
“Jeanna.” She waited for recognition before going on. “You must be strong. Father said it might just be a common cold. We cannot jump to conclusions.”
Jeanna shook her head again. Valerie was confused and concerned by the way Jeanna seemed so definite that her son was deathly ill. Valerie tried shaking Jeanna gently to elicit some other response from her but every time Valerie tried to engage her, she merely shook her head and continued staring at her son in horror.
Eventually, Valerie got up and turned towards Edmond. He was rocking Daniel and making soothing noises, but Daniel only whimpered and wriggled. Valerie did not know how close to get. She could see Daniel’s little tuft of orange hair and his little pink fists over Edmond’s arm. Thankfully, before Valerie needed to choose, Finola came back in with the bowl and cloths. A servant followed her with a tray of mugs. Valerie took one, the heady aroma of warm broth filling her nose, and passed it to Jeanna. The queen took it and nestled it in her lap.
Valerie had hoped someone else might take charge, but Nanny and Jeanna were beside themselves and Edmond was too engrossed in holding his son to think of anything else. She looked to Finola and the servant. The servant had apparently left, as quietly as she had entered, and Finola just looked at Valerie, still holding the bowl and cloths as though waiting instructions.
“Erm…right.” Valerie looked around, trying to put her minimal medic training into practise. “Can you put those down on the table, please…” She said to Finola, wondering if she should take Daniel away from Edmond or try to enlist Edmond’s help. “Are the council still meeting, do you know?”
Finola looked as though she was about to shrug, then stopped herself. “I am not sure, my lady. I can check if you would like?”
Valerie nodded. She needed help. “Yes, please. Could you see if my father or Jonathan are available, and have someone send for the healer?”
Finola nodded and made to leave.
“Thank you,” Valerie said.
Finola turned back and smiled as she left, but it was a sad sort of smile and Valerie did not blame her for it.
Jonathan arrived and seemed to know exactly what to do, though Valerie did not really know how. But by then, she did not much care either as long as someone did.
Before Jonathan had arrived, Daniel had started crying – he sounded in agony – and Jeanna had entirely lost her composure. Edmond had not been much better. He had held Daniel to him tighter, then thought better of it and laid him back in his cot.
When Jonathan arrived, Daniel was still crying, Edmond was hovering over the cot stroking his son, Nanny was crying in the corner or the room, Jeanna was still frozen with shock – her mug of broth now cold and untouched – and Valerie was hovering about the room not knowing what to do or who to comfort.
The healer had not been far behind Jonathan. He had commended Jonathan on his work in settling Daniel. Valerie thought Daniel had as much cried himself out of energy as Jonathan helped. However, whatever Jonathan had done had not only calmed everyone in the room, but seemed to tire him out immensely as well.
Nanny was dismissed and the healer was needed elsewhere – which was, to Valerie, a bad sign of things to come – but Valerie and Jonathan had sat up with Jeanna and Edmond all night. They had taken turns to cool Daniel’s brow and try to drip broth into his mouth from a clean cloth, while Jeanna and Edmond had clung to one another on a sofa. Valerie did not blame them. She did not feel the need to have children just yet, but she loved them – and Daniel in particular – so could only imagine how devastated they must be feeling.
****
Valerie must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, it was very early dawn. Jeanna’s wailing woke her and Edmond was shaking with silent tears. She looked to Jonathan, who shook his head slowly. Valerie bounded out of her chair, suddenly wide awake, and flew to Daniel’s cot.
There was no crying or whimpering. There was no movement. The tuft of orange hair was plastered with sweat. His pink skin was pale and clammy. Valerie felt that lump in her throat return. She turned, throwing herself into Jonathan’s sturdy embrace. She felt his well-known, comforting arms close tightly around her and she cried.
Daniel was dead. And within the week, his father followed.
****
The week that followed Edmond’s death was grim. If the future of their land had been in peril when he and his heir lived but were not yet crowned, what sort of state did that leave them in now?
Valerie soon found out.
Valerie’s father had summoned her to his sitting room. She found i
t odd she was summoned, especially with her training on hiatus while they mourned. But she assumed her father merely wanted to rest. He had been kept especially busy since Edmond’s illness and subsequent death.
She walked up to her father’s door and the guard asked her to wait while he announced her. She thought this also odd as she usually just walked straight in. The guard was obviously told she was allowed to enter, as he nodded and let her pass. She walked in, smiling thanks.
Her father’s rooms were much like her Princess Room, only bedecked in blues and golds, and looking more suited to an older man. She saw Sir Gillam and Jonathan leaning over a table with her father, talking in hushed tones.
“Yes, yes. Get it done,” her father said, sounding a lot more harsh than usual. He had deep circles under his eyes and his hair was ruffled.
Jonathan and Gillam both nodded before straightening and heading for the door.
“Valerie.” Gillam smiled.
“Val.” Jonathan touched her arm as he passed, giving her a reassuring smile. He looked suddenly guilty and hurried after Gillam.
Valerie felt concerned. This all felt too much like the time she had been called in to be told her mother had died. She could not quite remember everything that had happened that day – she had only been four – but the feeling had stayed with her always. Valerie shuddered, hoping no one else close to her was gone so suddenly.
Henry held his hand out and Valerie took it, letting him guide her to a chair by the fire. He sat opposite her and looked at the flames for a few moments before speaking.
“Val, I am sure you know what has to happen now,” he said slowly.
Valerie felt very stupid. She had no idea to what he was referring. She shook her head.
He sighed, but did not seem disappointed in her, only weary. “Val, with Daniel and Edmond both dead, I will be king now.”
Valiant Valerie (Ballad of Valerie of Mor #1) Page 4