Fate's Star

by Elizabeth Vaughan

  She had to do more supervising than cleaning this time around, firmly explaining that splashing hot water and soap around did not really count as ‘cleaning’. But the work got done as the day progressed and at a much faster pace than if she’d done it by herself.

  The dogs lounged outside in the sun, occasionally raising their heads to watch the comings and goings. “You’re getting fat, you lazy things,” she said at one point as she went for more soap.

  Brindle yawned, and rolled over to invite a belly scratch.

  Warna shook her head, and leaned down to oblige. “We’ll have to see about that,” she told him.

  By mid-day, the entire barracks was clean and done. Still damp from the scrubbing, but the windows were wide open to let it dry.

  Warna stood in the clerk’s office, looking at the various desks and shelves. She felt hot, tired. Her tunic and trous clung to her skin, damp and stained, and her stomach was telling her it was past time for a meal. But she still had a rush of pleasure in looking at the results of their efforts.

  Most of the warriors had trailed out, carrying the last of the buckets and rags. Ricard ducked in the door and came up to her. Warna welcomed him with a grin.

  “Can you get them all moved in this afternoon? Before Lord Verice returns?”

  “Aye,” Ricard seemed confident.

  “Before he sees anything more than normal activity? Even the clerks?” Warna continued, giving one of the counters a final wipe. “It would be best if he didn’t have a chance to object.”

  “Yes,” Ricard said. “Lady Warna, you’ve had a response to your messengers.”

  “Really?” Warna asked, heading for the door. “Lovely, that will give me something to do after—”

  “Wait,” Ricard said, but she already had the door in mid-swing, stepping out into the sunlit courtyard.

  Only to find a crowd of assorted men and women gathered about, staring at her. The dogs were up among the crowd, their tails slowly wagging.

  At the very front was a tall elf, with long, straight black hair, a Priest of the Lord of Light.

  He raised his head, glaring at her with pure disdain. “You are Warna of Farentell?” he demanded.

  At her nod, his mouth twisted. “Just who in the darkest hells do you think you are?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The Constable stiffened. “Here now—” he started, but Warna held up a hand.

  “Priest Dominic?” she asked.

  The elf lifted his chin to regard her, his robes rustling as he gave her an imperious look.

  Warna was sure he’d notice every stain on her trous, but she wasn’t about to back down. “How kind of you to come so quickly.” Sand and Gray came trotting out of the crowd to greet her. She reached out to stroke their heads, while making sure her expression was warm and welcoming. “And these others are…?”

  A tall woman spoke up from the crowd. “We’re Lord Verice’s staff. We’ve come to—”

  “We have come to learn just who you are and what is happening,” Dominic snapped, raking Warna with a withering glance.

  Brindle had also appeared, followed by the other dogs. Sand and Gray were leaning against Warna’s legs. Brindle just sat, facing Dominic.

  “Of course,” Warna said. “We’ve just finished cleaning out this barracks. There’s plenty of room within. Perhaps we could go in and talk?” She threw the rags onto the pile just outside the door. “Just give me a moment to clean up, will you?”

  Dominic opened his mouth to protest.

  “I’ll see kav brought, m’lady.” The Constable opened the door. “Priest Dominic?” He asked, gesturing for him to enter.

  Dominic huffed, but he strode past Warna and into the building. Warna didn’t wait for another protest. She just started forward, pushing past the dogs to walk through the crowd. She smiled at everyone, and headed for the Healing Hall.

  She didn’t let herself hurry until she was through the door and taking the steps three at a time to her room. A quick wash, fresh clothes, and she’d be ready. Her heart was racing and it wasn’t just the steps. What if Lord Verice saw this crowd, and they demanded an explanation from him? There was a good chance that Verice would escort them to the gates and she wouldn’t chance that.

  She was headed down the stairs when the door below opened. The constable and the dogs were all pacing the main room.

  “Dominic’s the one in charge of the Healing Hall?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Aye,” The constable was peering out the window. “I’ve got them all settled and drinking kav. I don’t think we want the Lord to see…” he cast a glance at Warna.

  “I know,” she said. “Who are the others?”

  “All part of the Lord’s household, before the castle was closed,” he said as he followed her out the door and back across the courtyard. “The tall faelle is Janella, the Castle Chamberlain, and Ersal was the Master Clerk,” he reached out to put a hand on her arm just as they reached the door of the barracks. “The thick man, with the beard is Roath, the Master Gardener. Warna, what will you tell them?”

  She looked up at him and huffed out a nervous breath. “The truth, of course.”

  Priest Dominic was speaking as she opened the door, and his voice cut her like a knife.

  “Why would he listen to her? She’s a human woman,” he said scathingly. “Who’d want to have anything to do with one of them?”

  Warna stood in the doorway, frozen for a long moment, staring right at Dominic in the silence of the room. ‘Lady of Laughter, make him regret those words someday,’ she thought, then dismissed it as she faced them all down, stepping forward to let the constable close the door.

  “I am Warna of Farentell.” She walked through the seated group, then took a chair facing them. “Let me explain how I came to be here.”

  She kept it short, talking of her ‘rescue’, and Lord Verice’s extension of protection. “I want to work, is what I told him.” She looked down at her hands, folded carefully in her lap. “I need to lose myself in a task, and while he’s not given me permission, he’s not prevented me, either.”

  The constable had moved behind her, to stand at her shoulder. She felt his quiet support, but so far, he’d remained silent.

  “So, what is your intent, Warna?” Ersal spoke first.

  “I’ve cleaned the Healing Hall, and this building,” Warna said promptly. “I’ll start on the Third Barracks next. By then, I’ll find a need to restart the kitchens and the laundry.”

  “And everything else will flow therefrom,” Janella said. “And the keep?”

  “No,” Warna said. “I made him a promise, that I would not touch it. I must keep my promise.”

  Janella nodded slowly. “It will work,” she said looking at some of the others.

  “This is ridiculous,” Dominic stood, imposing in his fine robes of white and gold. His long black hair shimmered in the light, a stark contrast to the pale points of his ears.

  ‘Every inch an elf,’ Warna thought.

  “If,” Dominic emphasized the word. “If it’s as you say, then all we need do is go to Lord Verice and ask to be allowed to return.”

  “No,” Warna looked up at him. “Do that, and you’ll ruin any chance. The castle must come slowly alive around its Lord, and—”

  “Lord Verice will come alive with it,” Ersal said with a spark in his eye.

  “Nonsense,” Dominic scoffed. “We’ve only to ask—”

  “We’ve asked over and over for the last few months,” Janella pointed out. “We even had Lord Mayor Penard to ask on our behalf. Much good it’s done us.”

  “Then we ask again,” Dominic said. “He’s clearly changed his mind. I’ll—”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” the constable said, startling all of them by breaking his silence.

  “I’ll not let you put him at risk,” Warna added.

  Dominic looked at her with narrowed eyes, then arched an eyebrow. “And for you, Lady? Perhaps you plan to warm his
bed?” His lip curled. “Bring him back alive, so to say?”

  “Dominic!” Janella gasped.

  “Not that it’s likely, given your blood,” Dominic continued.

  The constable growled.

  “Constable,” Warna said sharply.

  He stopped, glaring at Dominic.

  Warna kept her voice steady. “Priest Dominic, Lord Verice has offered me shelter and protection. If I can do this for him, it still will not be full recompense for his kindness.”

  “And if we don’t go along with your plans?” Dominic demanded. “What would you do then?”

  “I believe you are under orders from Lord Verice to remain within the town,” Warna said. “I would ask the constable to enforce his orders.”

  “Who are you to speak so to us?” Dominic demanded.

  “Who are you,” Janella interrupted. “to claim to speak for all of us?”

  Dominic huffed.

  “She’s right, and you know it,” Ersal said. “We’ve not set foot within the castle since he ordered us out. This is the first bit of hope we’ve had since that day.”

  “Since that night,” Janella whispered.

  “You were there?” Warna asked. “When it happened?”

  “Aye,” Ersal rubbed his hand over his face. “We all were.”

  Warna threw a glance at the constable, but he shook his head. “Not me. I was in town, on leave.”

  “Would you tell me?” Warna leaned forward, looking at all of them. “What happened that night?”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Her request was met with bent heads, averted eyes, and a few stifled sobs. “I’m sorry,” Warna said, regretting her question. “Kalynn told me the story, but she wasn’t there and didn’t know the details.”

  Dominic’s head came up, his eyes narrowed. “You met Seer Kalynn? And—” he hesitated. “And Wolfe?”

  Warna nodded.

  “She needs to know,” said one of the women in the back, a round, sweet-faced lady with brown hair laced with gray. “If she’s to aid him, she needs to know.”

  “Aye,” Janella said. “But the telling is hard.”

  There was a shifting in the room as they all exchanged glances, tight-lipped, their eyes full of pain. But there were also nods, and Warna could see the determination spreading. As if by silent agreement, they had made their decision.

  Ersal cleared his throat. “It was the Fourth Night of our Festival of Light and Laughter, when we celebrate the Gifts of the Lord of Light and Lady of Laughter. T’is our custom, here in Tassinic, you see?”

  Warna nodded in encouragement, afraid she’d stop the flow of words.

  “Third Night is the Gift of Music and Dance,” he said. His voice trailed off, his gaze fixed on the air behind her.

  “Oh lady, it was such a grand night,” Janella said softly. “So filled with light and laughter, warmth and music. The whole castle fair glowed.”

  “We’d prepared for weeks,” another voice piped up from the back. “Decorating and cooking.”

  “Planning the presentations,” someone added. “Practicing dance steps.”

  One rough looking man in the back spoke, his voice a rumble. “The castle and keep were all lit with mage lights. So much magic your skin tingled with it, you know?”

  “She doesn’t,” Dominic said sharply. “Humans rarely have the gift,” he continued at Warna’s unspoken question. “All those of elven blood can sense it. Not all can manipulate it, but all feel its use.”

  “Laughter flowed freely that night,” Ersal said with fondness in his voice. “Everyone was making merry, dancing, laughing, talking. And in the Great Hall, Lord Verice had broken out the applefire—”

  A chuckle from the back. “And wasn’t Betnan upset by that?”

  The chuckles spread about the room.

  “Applefire?” Warna asked.

  “A liquor, lady, and highly prized,” Ersal smiled at the memory. “There’s only one brewer that makes it, and they only put up one pressing a year, and then it’s set aside to age. It’s said that they’ve only twelve trees that bear the right kind of apples. There’s magic in the making of it, or so they say.”

  “And Lord Verice orders his stock opened, and a sip for all. And Betnan, who had charge of the buttery says ‘Surely, you mean the noble folk alone, m’lord.’ And Lord Verice, he says ‘For any and all within my halls this night, Betnan.’” Ersal shook his head. “Betnan looked so miserable, opening those bottles,” He chuckled but then the laughter faded from his face. “May the Lord and Lady keep his soul.”

  “Lord Verice opened his cellars in honor of Bard Charrin and his Lady Summer, who had come to hold Festival with the Lord,” Janella picked up the tale. “It was such a lovely Festival up to that point. If I could just somehow keep that moment in my mind and preserve it, not remember the screams, not see—” She put her head down into her hands and wept.

  Ersal moved over, and put an arm around her shoulder. “Charrin had just finished his last song. The room was stirring, there was applause, and then the Usurper—”

  “Regent,” Dominic corrected.

  Ersal’s face darkened. “The bastard sent—”

  “The Regent denies it, and we’ve no proof,” Dominic said. “She has asked you for facts, not speculation.”

  “Fine,” Ersal spat. “A messenger, named Daress, stepped forward. He was a human, sent by the Regent of Palins with messages for Lord Verice. He’d arrived that morning with an entourage, and Lord Verice had invited him to the Festival, saying that the business could wait until the morrow. Daress pressed him, but his lordship would have none of it.”

  “We all knew that most likely he’d brought demands from the Regent, insisting that Verice attend one of the High Baron Councils in Edenrich,” Janella explained.

  “He is the Lord High Baron Verice’s liege,” Dominic said.

  “The Seneschal announced him, and they stood before the high table, just to the right of Charrin and Summer. Lord Verice acknowledged him, welcomed him,” Ersal said. “Daress had this smile on his face,” He took a breath. “I remember thinking that he looked like a child with a terrible secret.”

  Ersal was tense, rigid, his eyes fixed on the wall behind her. Warna listened as he spoke in a flat tone, as if he dare not let any emotion into his story.

  “Daress said something,” Ersal continued. “I didn’t catch the words. Then he gave a crackling shout of laughter. It must have been a signal. Because he turned and attacked Charrin.”

  Ersal closed his eyes. “The blade glittered as he swung. I suspect he was aiming at Charrin’s throat, but he caught his eyes instead.” He choked up, unable to continue.

  Janella picked up the tale. “Charrin screamed. Summer moved, put herself between Charrin and Daress, so the blade plunged deep within her, not him.”

  “Lord Verice launched himself over the table at Daress, he’d an eating knife in each hand,” Ersal said. “The other four with Daress all pulled out their knives, and they all went for our Lord. But that’s when—” he gulped.

  “When the screams started from all around us, and from the balconies above.” A thick-waisted man in the back spoke up. Warna frowned, trying to remember his name. Roath, that was it.

  Roath continued, “Armed warriors appeared within the keep, attacking unarmed celebrants.”

  “Lord Verice was holding his own, and many of the noble lords sprang to his side. The Seneschal, his aide, they grabbed up whatever they could as weapons,” Ersal said. “Betnan grabbed up a bottle and shattered it on the table, wielding the jagged shard…”

  “They cut through us like wolves among lambs,” he said, rubbing his thigh. “And just as quick. The guards and the mages, they reacted, but it had all been planned by that bastard Daress. They aimed to maim, you see, as much as kill.”

  “In the end, we took them all down to the last. But not before Lord Verice was fallen, blood spurting from his thigh.”

  “We got to him in time,” D
ominic said. “But it was a close thing. We got the bleeding stopped, then littered him out to the courtyard. No further - we feared he’d start to bleed if we took him too far. Captain Narthing ordered the keep evacuated, fearing there were others hiding within.”

  “What of Charrin?” Warna asked.

  “Oh, that was a horror, lady,” Janella whispered. “He’d gathered poor Summer in his arms, and he was keening there in the Great Hall. We couldn’t get him to move for the longest time, and he wouldn’t let us take her body. We had to carry them both out.”

  “There was nothing you could do?” Warna asked Dominic.

  “She was dead when we arrived,” Dominic said. “I’d more wounded and dying than healers. Charrin’s wounds were not life threatening. Lord Verice was our first concern.”

  Ricard stirred. “As soon as we heard the alarms, we ran up from the town, through the gates and started dealing with the attackers. Narthing led the search, and I organized the courtyard.”

  “Narthing came out, grim, his sword still out. They’d combed the keep and brought out the bodies. He was standing on the stairs…”

  “Lord Verice regained consciousness,” Dominic said.

  “He’d lost blood, weak as a kitten until he heard Narthing’s report,” Ricard said. “But the rage boiled up within him. He staggered to his feet, all the healers trying to stop him, and with a gesture he slammed every door shut, and commanded that no one enter the keep.”

  “Of course, he then fell back into our arms,” Dominic said. “He’d used the last of his energy and his wits.”

  “And when he woke, he ordered the entire castle emptied,” Ersal said. “It was insane, of course. We argued but—”

  The gate horns blew, announcing Verice’s arrival. Warna started at the sound, they all did. Warna hadn’t realized it had gotten so late.

  “Lord Verice must not see you,” Warna stood. “Ersal, I’d ask you to come with me. Please, the rest of you, wait here until the constable can see you slipped out the gate.”

  Dominic folded his arms over his chest, glowering, but Warna ignored him. “I’ll send a request in the next day or so, for supplies for the Healing Hall. Over a period of time, as I see fit, we will see it staffed during the day, and then the night, and gradually ease into having healers in residence.”