Kerish smiled and kissed her. “Our own little family.”
That made her remember something she’d been thinking of on and off, the whole time they’d been staying at Waxwold Manor. “You want children, don’t you. I mean yours and mine, not Felix.”
“I do. But I don’t want to impose what I want on you, if you don’t feel the same.”
“I’m just…it frightens me. Childbirth, and then caring for a baby, and…what if I turn out like Nan?”
He kissed her again, a lingering kiss that warmed her inside. “I think that’s highly unlikely. You’d watch yourself too closely for that. And I wouldn’t let it happen.” Another kiss, this one deeper, and his hands moved across her back and lower. “But I think we should go to bed now, and practice what it takes to get children.”
She smiled, and returned his kiss. “You can never have enough practice at that.”
A knock sounded at the door. “Willow?”
Kerish dropped his head and cursed.
“Felix, what do you need?” Willow said.
“I had a really bad dream.”
“You’re sure you want more than one of those?” Willow murmured to Kerish.
“I’m beginning to rethink that decision,” Kerish said. He released her and tightened the belt on his dressing gown. Willow tried not to look too closely; she was fairly certain he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She adjusted her own robe and crossed the room to open the door.
The moment she did, Felix flung himself at her, hugging her hard. Tears streaked his face. Willow’s irritation dissipated. She picked him up and carried him to the bed, setting him down in the middle where it was warmest. Felix scrubbed his eyes and leaned up against Kerish, who put his arm around the boy. “Tell us about this really bad dream,” he said. “That will help it go away.”
“I dreamed you were gone, and Willow was gone, and Lord Quinn was my father,” Felix said. “Then I saw Willow, but she didn’t…didn’t know who I was, and I was chasing her and she ran away from me…” More tears spilled down his cheeks. Willow took Felix from Kerish and cuddled him close, stroking his bright hair.
“You know that’s just a dream, right?” she said. “I won’t ever run away from you.”
“I know, but it felt real.” Felix wiped his eyes again. “Can I sleep with you?”
Willow and Kerish exchanged glances over the boy’s head. “Felix, you’re almost nine,” Willow said.
“But I’m afraid the dream will come back. Please?”
Kerish rolled his eyes, but he was smiling a rueful smile. “All right,” Willow said. “But just this once.”
“Thank you,” Felix said, hugging her. He snuggled into the pillows—there were so many on the bed Willow had taken to throwing a few of them off at night so she didn’t feel smothered. Willow smoothed his hair again. “Good night.”
“Good night, Felix,” Willow said, but his eyelids were already sagging and his mouth was slack. “Sweet heaven, but he falls asleep fast.”
“I can take him back to his bed.”
“Better not. He’ll expect to wake up here, and I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
“No worries about not hurting my feelings.” He was smiling that rueful smile again.
Willow hit Kerish with a pillow. “We’ll have to postpone having carnal knowledge of each other until later. You can wait, can’t you?”
“I do have self-control, o love of my life.” Kerish tossed the pillow back at her and scooted next to Felix. “Can we at least move him so we can cuddle up together?”
“Sure. He sleeps so soundly he won’t even notice.”
With Felix safely moved to the side of the vast bed, Willow snuggled into Kerish’s arms and breathed out a sigh of contentment. “I love you.”
“I love you. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am right now. Even if it is in Lord Quinn’s manor.”
“I don’t want to think about him. Or the meeting we’re supposed to have tomorrow. If I can’t convince him the troops need to move now, and not wait until spring…”
“This snow can’t help your case. It’s precisely the reason he wants to wait.”
“I know. But we’re going to lose momentum if we wait five months. Not to mention having to feed all those mouths. The insurgents will want to go to their homes, and suppose they don’t come back? We need those wands.”
“It’s not me you need to convince, sweetheart.”
Willow sighed. “No, it’s not. But if I keep repeating my reasoning, maybe it will gain enough persuasive power to convince Lord Quinn. Alric. I just can’t call him that. It’s like we’re friends.”
“Too bad you have to deal with him and not with Richard. He’s a good deal more reasonable.”
“Yes, and not interested in being responsible. Richard would be a whole different set of problems.”
“True. But a more manageable set.”
“Probably.”
They went silent, Willow listening to Kerish’s even breathing and enjoying the cinnamon and cloves smell of him. She wished now she’d had him take Felix to his own bed. She’d never thought about sex during all those years she’d been alone, and now she couldn’t stop thinking about how wonderful it was. How much of that was due to her love of her partner, she didn’t know. In any case, the knowledge that she could have sex any time she wanted—well, except for moments like these, obviously—made her almost giddy with delight.
“Did you send another letter to the Countess of Cullinan?” Kerish said, drawing her out of her reverie.
“Hmm? Oh. Yes, and if she decides to reply, it will arrive tomorrow or the next day. But I don’t have high hopes.” Anastasia Harcourt, Countess of Cullinan, had reportedly allied with Terence, but Willow hadn’t given up on the possibility that Terence’s many defeats might make her change her mind.
“Lady Harcourt always had a lot of Ascendants in her court. She might just be responding to their demands.”
“I’ve offered to free her from the Ascendants, if they’re oppressing her county. By now she knows we can make good on that promise.”
“Sometimes I wonder what Terence thinks of all this. If he’s regretting his actions.”
“I wish I knew what he was thinking, period. It would make strategizing so much easier.”
“Don’t you leave the strategizing to Soltighan?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to understand how it works.” Willow snuggled in closer and yawned. She’d never been so comfortable in her life. “And it’s starting to make more sense.”
“I’m glad you understand it. My training has all been in solo combat tactics.”
“Which keeps you alive, so I’m glad of it.”
Kerish kissed her forehead. “My sword is ready for your defense, my lady.”
Willow yawned again. “I’m glad of that too,” she said, and drifted off to sleep.
When she woke, she was alone in her bed. The smell of hot khaveh that had wakened her told her Kerish had been and gone again. It made her smile to think of how he knew what she liked and went out of his way to provide it. Khaveh, rolls and jam and butter, and a bowl of hashed potatoes with flecks of ham—her favorite breakfast, and having it in bed was her favorite way of eating it. She picked up the tray and climbed back into her warm nest before the chill in the air could cool the food.
The sky beyond the window was clear, translucent blue. Part of one of the ells of the manor was visible from her window, and she could see the roof was clear of snow, melted by the morning sun. Probably the rest of it was melted, too. That was good for her argument—it was still early enough in the season that if they moved quickly, the snow wouldn’t impede their movement. Lord Quinn had to see sense.
Despite her anxiety about the upcoming meeting, she ate slowly, savoring her food. Lord Quinn’s cook was skilled and ran an excellent kitchen. They’d be on the road eventually, so she might as well enjoy this while it lasted. One last drink of khaveh, one las
t bite of potatoes, and she laid the tray aside and rose to get dressed. She decided on fawn-colored trousers, a North blue shirt Kerish had found somewhere, and the boots she’d commissioned from a shoemaker in Kingsport, thanks to the guilders she’d taken off a would-be assassin in Umberan. Her entire wardrobe was well-made and looked rich without being too formal or uncomfortable. This wasn’t that kind of meeting, and she judged her clothing would put Lord Quinn at ease enough that he’d be receptive to her arguments.
The door opened as she was pulling on her boots. “That color looks amazing on you,” Kerish said.
“Thank you. And thanks for breakfast. It was delicious.”
“My pleasure. Soltighan’s downstairs, waiting for you.”
“I’m almost ready. And it’s not quite time. I don’t want Lord Quinn feeling like he’s under pressure to act, or it might put his back up. Sweet heaven, Kerish, when did I become a diplomat?”
“The night you addressed the vojentas back in Umberan. Mother said you spoke as though you’d been doing it your whole life.”
“She did? When was this?”
“We talked about it the next day. She wanted to know where you’d learned that skill. I had to tell her I had no idea. I suppose you’d just never had the opportunity to use it.”
“I guess not.” Willow straightened her neckline in the mirror and gave herself a stern look. “Let’s hope today’s ‘opportunity’ draws out yet another secret ability.”
She found Soltighan in the drawing room to the right of the front door, dressed in an odd combination of Eskandelic tunic and trousers and a Tremontanan-style cloak. “Not too cold?” she asked.
“The desert nights in winter grow nearly so cold,” Soltighan said, “but none of us have ever seen snow before. It was a breathtaking sight. And now it is gone. I believe there is a deep meaning in its transitory nature, but I am no poet to tease it out.”
“Neither am I.” Willow took a seat near the front window. She’d learned early on that Soltighan wouldn’t sit unless she did. Soltighan sat opposite her and clasped his hands on his knees. “Are you prepared to make this argument?”
“The military strategy is sound. But I think Lord Quinn is no military man.”
“If you can convince Lord Richard, that might be enough. He is a military man, and not stupid.”
“It is you who bears the burden of this task, though.”
“I know.” Willow eyed the clock high on the wall. “Let’s give him a minute more. How’s our army doing?”
“Very well. Morale is high now that we have access to a city and its many material pleasures. But too much longer and I believe your insurgents will murmur. A few have already…I hesitate to say ‘deserted’ when they are not soldiers. They leave their wands behind.”
“That’s something, anyway. I’ll talk to Giles about it. Maybe he can impress upon them how important it is they stay with us. But so many of them have been away from home for years, I can’t really blame them for wanting to see their families.”
“Nevertheless.”
“I know. I agree.” She hadn’t seen much of Rafferty in the last ten days and now she felt guilty about it. Even if he hadn’t been an important part of her army, such as it was, he was still a friend. But he’d turned down her offer of a room in the manor for him and Selina, and then she’d been so busy… She resolved to meet with him that afternoon.
“All right,” she said. “Lord Quinn’s had enough time to digest his breakfast and settle in, and he’ll be expecting us.”
“Not Felix?”
“Not for this meeting.” She was used, now, to speaking on Felix’s behalf, and she always felt relieved when something came up she could reasonably exclude him from. He didn’t need the burden of kingship when he wasn’t going to be King. Though she had to be careful not to give Lord Quinn the idea that Felix didn’t matter. Keeping him in a subordinate mindset was all that prevented him from making another grab for power.
Lord Quinn and Richard Quinn were waiting for them in the Count’s study. “Thank you for joining me,” Lord Quinn said, as if he’d summoned them there. It was how he always began their meetings, and Willow never called him on it. Though she was starting to think she should, if he was increasingly of the opinion that she was his subordinate. Something to keep in mind.
“We appreciate your hospitality,” Willow said—just as she always did. Well, not always, but often. It was a meaningless politeness. “But we shouldn’t impose on you for very long.”
“It’s not an imposition.”
Willow caught a glimpse of Richard’s face, which was too impassive. She was certain the Quinn heir didn’t know how much he was giving away with his face, even when he was expressionless. Lord Quinn didn’t like having them for guests; he liked the power it gave him over them.
She settled into a waiting stance, not too relaxed, but not worried, either. “Imposition or not, the army will move out soon, and then it won’t be an issue.”
“Setting out on a winter campaign is foolishness. We should make camp here, wait a few months, then attack in the spring.”
Willow glanced at Soltighan, who took a step forward. “My lord, you are correct that a winter campaign has drawbacks. However, we are in a position to strike the enemy’s forces while he is weakened. Give him the winter to prepare, to woo more Ascendants to his side, and we will be at a disadvantage come the spring.”
“I disagree. We’ll have the same opportunity to gain allies. I’m sure the Countess of Cullinan will respond favorably to us, given time.”
Willow checked Richard’s face again. This time, he looked as if he wanted to say something, but didn’t want to be drawn in. “Alric,” she said, “that’s a lot of possibles set against one solid fact, which is that we struck a decisive blow against Terence ten days ago. We have to follow that up immediately. If we move quickly, we may defeat him before winter is solidly upon us.”
“That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”
Willow nodded once, slowly. “I’m sorry to hear you say that,” she said. “Because this army is moving out, with or without you.”
Lord Quinn rose from his chair, somewhat unsteadily. “And I say it’s not.”
“You forget yourself, Alric.” Willow put her hands on his desk and leaned forward, which put her eye to eye with the Count. “You swore fealty to your King, and I am his chief adviser. I command this army, not you, and I say we march.”
“I will not allow—”
“You’re not in a position to allow anything. And what you want no longer matters. Either you’re loyal to your King, or you raise your standard in rebellion against him. And yes, your army is bigger than mine, and if you attack us, we may not win. But doing so will leave you helpless against Terence, whether he comes against you now or in the spring. So that’s the decision you have to make. Are you loyal, or are you a traitor?”
Lord Quinn’s face was the color of a brick wall. “You dare—you nobody from nowhere—”
“Insulting me will get you nowhere, Alric. But let’s see what Richard has to say. You’re a military man, Richard—what do you think of my plan?”
It threw both of them off. Richard looked startled. “Well, I…” He cleared his throat. “It comes down to the kind of opposition we’ll face going through County Cullinan. If Anastasia Harcourt switches sides, we’ll be able to move swiftly and be at the gates of Aurilien within days. If not, and we have to fight our way through…we really might be better off gathering forces through the winter, because we’d be fighting a war of attrition.”
Willow turned to Soltighan. “Is that your assessment as well?”
Soltighan shrugged. “It is a possibility. The pretender’s forces are in disarray right now, and we should strike before they regroup.”
“That’s a valid point too,” Richard said. “But it’s still a risk, no matter which way you look at it. And our combined forces aren’t so great we can afford to waste any of them.”
“So it comes down to Lady Harcourt’s decision,” Willow said. “I dislike having our actions dictated by someone who’s not an ally—who might be an enemy.”
Lord Quinn resumed his seat, flinging himself into it angrily. “You’re not going to be so foolish as to disregard my son’s advice?”
“I take the advice of all my military commanders seriously.” Willow pushed off from the desk, no longer feeling the need to intimidate Lord Quinn. “Are you both in agreement that Lady Harcourt’s cooperation would make a difference?”
The men nodded. “I don’t think there’s any question about that,” Richard said.
“Then we’ll wait a few days until we know she’s not going to respond, and at that point we’ll make a plan. Captain Takjashi, can you send some of your spies into County Cullinan in the meantime, to assess the state of the pretender’s army?”
“Perhaps my soldiers might be better,” Richard said. “No offense, but Eskandelics will stand out in Tremontane.”
“Good point. Thanks, Richard.”
“And you’ll abandon your mad plan if your military advisers tell you to?”
Willow controlled an urge to make a face at Lord Quinn. “If they tell me we can march, will you still think it’s mad?”
Lord Quinn scowled, but said nothing. Willow smiled sweetly. “I’d like to visit both camps today, if you don’t mind,” she added. “This afternoon. The King will be joining me.” She could talk to Rafferty this morning…it was going to be a very full day.
“Of course,” Richard said. “And your husband?”
He’d sounded a tad too eager there. Willow reminded herself that Richard wouldn’t make a play for a married man, decided if she was going to suffer, Kerish was too, and said, “Certainly.”
“Fine,” said Lord Quinn irritably. “I’ve got business to attend to, if you don’t mind…?”
“Thank you for your time, Alric,” Willow said, and managed to flee without looking like she was fleeing. In the entrance hall, she said, “Soltighan, I’ll see you at one, and Richard, I’ll be there at…three-thirty.” They both nodded. “Just a formality. Mostly I want the soldiers to see Felix and remember why it is they’re fighting.”
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