by Pam Uphoff
"Oh, how so?"
"The woman actually eloped with Paul Jameson when we were in Arrival, at school. His father had it annulled immediately, of course, and my father arranged for her to come out here and he found her a suitable husband. But she's ambitious for her daughter, you know. Thought Roger would marry a bastard, just because she looks a bit like Jameson. So watch yourself. The mother must figure you've fallen far enough to be within reach."
"I see. I'll keep that in mind, and mention the possibility of one of Randal's sons coming here." Kurt gave the poor man a hopefully royal nod, and sought the company of his officers. Baron Paul Jameson of East Heights' daughter? Eloped and annulled? If . . . if, if, if.
Liz. The daughter of a baron. He winced a bit at the thought of this baron and his child, Roger. Children. If I married Liz, we'd have to adopt. He smiled a little. How long has it been since I looked forward?
Chapter Fourteen
Sunday, March 8, 3493 AD
Jeramtown, Arrival
It was a small town. Despite being over half the town away, the noise of the first rock hitting the wall woke him.
"Well, I knew this was in my future." Awake and listening, Kurt heard the high pitched shrieks of the injured. They'd be raking the walls with arrows, coming close in the darkness. Kurt trusted that Franklin was returning the favor. But he couldn't stand to stay abed. He rolled out, dressed and armored, and armed.
Not at all to his surprise, December was headed out the door, a basket of bandages and wine in hand. But she was also dressed all in black, and had her black scarf around her neck. "In case you need the Dark Lady again." Her eyes were serious.
She walked most of the way to the south gate with him, but veered off at the plaza being used as a hospital.
"What are you doing here? You are not trained." Easler was in no mood to be kind.
"I know. And I know you will get patients you cannot save, and therefore have no time for. If you will send them to me, I will try to make their dying as painless as possible."
The doctor straightened and glared. Pointed. "Go over there. There's a man with an arrow through his gut. See if you can comfort him!"
The doctor stomped off, and the lady went where he had pointed.
Kurt thought about it, and decided that if he was injured, he'd just beg to be allowed to die. He stayed back from the wall, watched as the archers shot volleys, aimed by the directions yelled by the very few souls still on the wall. A rock soared upwards, and fell down through the torchlight, it almost seemed to jerk in midfall, then it crashed to the ground between ranks of archers. Men dodged the rebound and returned to firing. The next rock hit the gate tower, he could hear the rocks crashing down, could see the gap in the top. The next rock hit the town side of the top, crashing through and bringing down half the tower. Several figures were carried away from there, and to the medical field.
The doctor waved them on. No fool, he could see that his hospital was going to be a battleground very soon. Kurt trotted out to Franklin. "I'll get everyone up and armed. What do you think? Mounted?"
"No, we won't be able to get out to charge, and the rocks here . . . "
"Right." Kurt turned when a female voice stopped him.
"Perhaps you should call on the Dark Lady."
"Can you help?"
"Yes, although perhaps not enough. I'd as soon try now before more people are killed."
"Right." He strode out into the torchlight. "Dark Lady! In our hour of need we call for you!" his voice echoed oddly, and sparks shimmered into a dark figure that surveyed the ground, then strode toward the tower.
Rocks lifted from the ground and began glowing, melting together as the tower reformed and the gate filled in. The Dark Lady climbed stairs, only half of which actually still existed, a dark figure outlined in a dim glow. She walked along a parapet that leapt into order like rowdy troops finding themselves facing an officer. She raised a hand and made a batting movement. A rock fell through the torchlight, curving to miss the wall. Screams both human and equine rose from the far side.
She stayed, knocking stones back on the attackers for an hour, arrows and bolts bounced, deflected from her. The rain of stones and arrows stopped. And the glow of the figure gradually faded.
Kurt didn't realize she was back down until she was beside him. She was wavering slightly. "I hate admit it, but I'm really glad they decided to quit."
"Stone, you're still in charge. I'll be back and relieve you shortly." He took the lady's elbow and steered her away from the gate. She veered to grab her basket, abandoned but untouched. "Stupid doctor," she muttered.
She was walking more firmly with every step, and when he led her into the tavern's main room, she looked tired and ordinary.
He sat her at a table, and the girl brought bowls of porridge and tea. "Thank you, Kurt. I am not as recovered from whatever happened to me last month as I had thought. I should not be so tired," she waved away further care. "Eat yourself, you need to get back. I suspect it will be a long day."
He wolfed his porridge before leaving.
Counting himself, there were only twenty-eight Imperial Guards left. He'd sent off two messengers, and there had been two fatalities. They'd taken over a small warehouse and yard close to the tavern, and were up and about when he got there. "Bring a couple of horses for fast messengers, otherwise it looks like mainly foot work."
Lieutenants Folley and Jenner led the men out, with Kurt and Lieutenant Davison riding the horses.
"Makes me feel lazy." Davison grumbled.
"Looks good for the townspeople," Kurt drew rein abruptly. Dismounted and approached the gate tower. Smooth rock, as if the whole had melted together, or been made in a single piece, carved from the bedrock. The gate tunnel was gone, solid rock.
He handed the reins to the nearest private and walked up the solid stairs.
Stone was leaning casually against the parapet. "I'm impressed, they're impressed, all the soldiers are impressed. How about you?"
"I'm impressed. Or maybe I'm scared." He looked out at the besieging army. "I hope to hell they are." He leaned further out. The outside of the wall was similarly melted.
"They are certainly talking it over. I think the Dark Lady landed one of their rocks on their own officer. That civilian you had the chat with is only arguing with one fellow at any rate." Franklin shot him a curious look. "I haven't seen any more nasty creatures, and they took their . . . statues away. Do they really have anything worse? I have suddenly realized I don't want to see the sort of god that makes Lady December apprehensive."
Kurt nodded. "Roger said the God of War said the Arbolians were going to win."
"He's noble, has he got the magic?"
"Yes, as far as I can tell." Kurt scratched his jaw. "One of those deep dark secrets we aren't supposed to tell the hoi poi—that's you, God knows why—is that we used to be extremely powerful, and that what we can do now is a faint shadow of the past. If Lady December is an example of the old magic . . . I don't know that ours qualifies as even a shadow. Did Roger have a true vision? I don't know. I've never had a single one. I'm pretty good at knowing if people are telling the truth or lying, feel strongly about something or don't care. That's all the magic the Royal Family has."
"No wonder you're so good at cards."
He snorted. "That's about all it's good for." He shaded his eyes. "Looks like they're breaking camp. I don't suppose they're going home?"
"Nope, they seem to have decided to try the north gate next."
"I'm surprised they aren't just going to go through the wall."
"Best bet is they've decided to wait us out." Franklin sagged a bit.
"Sorry. Captain Stone, I relieve you. Get your sorry ass to bed, you can come back and play tonight."
"Captain Alpha you have the command." He gave a jaw cracking yawn. "Make sure you ride the militia commander, get his people swapped out, fed, rested and ready."
"Yes, Mother."
Franklin snickered and h
eaded down the stairs, still yawning.
It was an uneventful day. The daytime militia commander was a gnarled old veteran who looked after his men, and set dozens of children to collecting the arrows shot at them last night and several dozen goodwives to checking them for usefulness and more to fletching new ones.
The streets were cleared of rocks quickly. The poor seemed to be hording them. Lady December's magic rooms. It was enough to make a man religious. Or something.
He caught a brief glimpse of Liz when she helped deliver food to the men on the walls; she flashed him a smile. When he saw his men grinning, he tried to stop smirking. Didn't work.
***
Liz headed back to the tavern, trying to not smile. They were at war. They were in a desperate situation, under siege. She couldn't go around falling in love with a man who couldn't marry her.
December was playing with the baby when she came in. "You look happy."
"I feel like an idiot. I can't fall in love with a Prince, and well, it isn't like he can take a lover, either."
"Umm, not that I'm urging you do something so against your society's mores, but why not?"
"Oh. Umm. I guess you haven't heard all the gossip. Err, he was umm, injured, and umm, well they err, had to cancel his engagement, and umm."
"Liz, I don't know if the shot glass of wine was enough. So after the siege, when he's got time to deal with the, umm, unfortunate effects, he can drink a bottle of that wine and regrow any parts that have you umming and erring."
Liz blinked at the lady. "Regrow?"
"Yep."
"Oh. And then they really will marry him off to some foreign princess." Liz thumped her head on the wall. "See, I really can't go and fall in love with a Prince." I will not burst into tears. I want him whole, even if that means I have to give up any possible hope of having him all for myself.
"Why don't you tell him, and let him make up his own mind?"
"Lady December, I love you dearly, but you really don't understand diplomacy through marriage. They won't let him make up his own mind, not about marriage."
"I don't understand hardly anything." She smiled down at her daughter. "Done chewing on my finger, sweetie? How about a walk in the sun?"
Liz tagged along. She'd seen it happen, but until one walked around the town and saw all these doors, side by side and no way there was room for the rooms glimpsed behind them . . . People kept coming up, carrying rocks. Could the Dark Lady make some extra room for the sheep, they could seal them in, the Mother-in-law, the children . . . They brought her sick children and she doled out tiny drips of wine, an old man got a cupful.
The lady worked as she walked, helping people without any question of favors or money.
She really is a noble. This is how a noble ought to act. Helping. Protecting. Sharing danger. Caring. Does the baron know he's been usurped?
A man walked past them, turned casually, and thrust the knife under the lady's ribs.
She reacted, falling away and kicking out. The knife tore loose and blood spurted. The man rolled to his feet and sprinted away. The lady pointed, but sank to the ground clutching her side.
Liz leapt for the pram and pulled out the wine. "Drink, right now!" She poured it into the lady's mouth. The lady choked and sputtered, but swallowed, swallowed more.
The commoners she'd been helping gathered in a horrified circle. Liz could hear the news being yelled down the street. The bleeding had stopped. Liz tore the lady's blouse and looked carefully at the wound. Did it need to be pushed together? Did the lady do something more than just administer the wine?
With a clatter of hooves, Kurt arrived, vaulting down, and kneeling at the lady's side.
"We were just walking, this man walked past, didn't even look at us until he turned and stabbed her." Liz shivered.
"Let's get her in bed, umm . . ."
Two old men rushed up with two poles, coarse blankets wrapped between them. "The doctor is just over on Beale Street, sir."
Kurt bit his lip. "No, we'll take her back to her room."
Liz looked up in surprise. "You don't trust him?"
"He trained in Arbolia. Well, most doctors do, but . . . I'd rather trust the lady to the lady's potions, not his." There was something dark under his voice, a memory perhaps.
The old men lifted the lady and carried her after the captain, and Liz pushed the pram after them, and most of the crowd followed.
The lady was still unconscious when they transferred her to her bed. The woman minding children there, took one horrified look at the amount of blood all over the lady's clothing and hustled the children out, into the classroom.
"I think her color is a little better." Liz felt the lady's cold hands.
Her mother popped in and promptly ordered the men out. "So we can get the lady into clean clothes and into bed. I don't expect her husband would appreciate you seeing her undressed."
That sent the old men scurrying, and Kurt retreating out the door.
Her mother tsked and they carefully eased the lady's clothing off. Wiped off blood around a fresh pink scar.
"Magic. Humph!" her mother muttered, sliding a cotton shift over the lady's head. "Skinny little thing, good thing she's got muscles, otherwise I'd think someone was starving her."
December whimpered just a bit and her eyelashes fluttered. "Quail?" her voice was a thin whisper.
"She's fine, you're the one that's hurt." Liz told her. "Do you want more wine?"
"No. Liquids now. Water." Footsteps retreated down the hallway.
Liz propped her up against the head board, and looked out the door. Kurt was on his way back with a pitcher.
"I suggested that the lady might need some thin soups for the next few days."
"Thank you," the thin whisper was a bit louder. "Be careful, he got away. Captain, you are the most likely target."
"Do you ever stop thinking?" The Prince glanced in the door.
She smiled and shook her head, sipped water. Liz cupped her hands around the lady's shaking grip.
"So polite. The Old Wolf usually says 'Don't you ever stop thinking and planning and plotting?'" Her smile flashed suddenly. "I remembered his name."
"This Wolf of yours has my sympathy, or perhaps my jealousy and envy." Kurt said.
"Ha! If I ever remember the rest of him, find him, I'll have to introduce you. I'll bet he's a complete blackguard, and he'll have you properly ruined inside a week."
"Heh, I'm already ruined."
"Bah. How long has it been since you had that wine? A week? Two more and we'll find out if you've had enough or need a second dose." She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "I think I'd better sleep. Can't be abed too long . . . "
Liz helped her slide down flat then tiptoed to the door. Kurt was standing there, staring into space.
His eyes drifted to her. "Did she just imply, umm . . . "
"She certainly did. Think the Arbolians would go away if you agreed to marry their Princess after all?"
He snorted. "There was a lot of resistance in Arbolia to their princess being married to a Barbarian Arrival. I . . . there was a stupid little battle with bandits . . . I was injured, but not that badly, it didn't seem . . . I was down there, riding and fighting with an Arbolian troop, trying to build up a reputation, maybe even some loyalties, some friendships . . . I shouldn't have tried to ride. I fainted. Woke up with a bunch of Arbolian doctors laughing. I'd had a bad injury, infection starting, they said. Said they'd had to, to," he closed his eyes. "I hate those miserable . . . So the Arbolians leaked the news, but left actually breaking the engagement to my father, so they could act offended."
Liz leaned against him. "That's why you didn't want the doctor to treat the lady. The Arbolians trained him."
"Yes, but also he's always been a friend of Roger's. Right now, I can't trust him." He lifted his arm and looped it around her shoulders. "So, I've got my own miracles in the form of a mysterious Lady, and, and . . ." he looked at her thoughtfully, then bent and ki
ssed her. Thoroughly, ending with both their arms around each other, and his body pressing hers to the wall.
"They'll just marry you off to some other princess."
"They can try." He kissed her again. Only the click of approaching shoes made them draw back, and Kurt stepped away as the door swung open.
"Lizzie? Can you sit with the lady and her baby? I need to get back to my students."
"Of course." She slipped back inside the room, quivering a bit. Listening to retreating boot heels.
***
Kurt trotted out of the tavern, tipped the boy who'd led his horse here, and who was still faithfully holding him. He grinned all the way to the north gate. The lady should have bled to death in minutes from that stab. If the wine could save her, then surely it could help him. Liz, Liz, Elizabeth. Dear God it felt good to see a future. All he had to do was convince his father that marriage to an obscure nobody was the best thing to do with his gelded son, before he realized he wasn't. Hopefully. Wouldn't be.
So, what sort of future do you see, young man? Are you going to be a Military officer your entire life? How about a horse farm? Cross back a bunch of Phantom sons and daughters . . . A gate. She came through a gate. Have to find out about that. Travel there, meet this 'Wolf' that had the lady's eyes lighting up with even a partial memory.
He exchanged news with the north gate militia, and Lieutenant Jenner with his small detachment. "A bad stabbing, she lost a lot of blood, but the bleeding's stopped, and she's in bed resting." They wouldn't have shone half the interest in their Baron, had been pretty indifferent to Roger's fate, come to that. Sorry thing when only his father cares enough to even ask me.
He wound through the streets to the east gate, and repeated his reassurances.
The Dark Lady. Magic.
All right, clearly I need to find this gate of the Lady's. Get father to grant me a freehold that covers it, and then start exploration, trade, and a horse farm, all with Liz. That sounds about right.
He dismounted at the south gate and climbed the stairs.
"They're down to an observation post, sir."