The King's Commander (Kingdoms of Meria Book 1)

by Cecelia Mecca

  “How do you feel?” he asks.

  More secure than I should.

  “Odd,” I admit. Father and Amma will be amused to hear about this. I’d never expected to ride a horse. Nor had I ever given thought to leaving Murwood End. I won’t, of course, but riding with Vanni, my back pressed to his front, I’m struck by the image of us riding off together. Going somewhere else.

  Desire truly does make a person act insensibly.

  “Dex is more accustomed to battle than he is to bearing two riders, but he’s doing well.”

  When I look back at Vanni, his face so very close, I find it difficult to reconcile this man with the one who sheltered with me in the sea cave. This is the nobleman I first met.

  “You really are the king’s commander.”

  His smile is so easily given I cannot help but return it. “I am.”

  “’Tis impressive for a man your age?”

  So as not to strain my neck, I look out toward the water, but I can still see Vanni’s profile. I can feel him behind me.

  “I am the youngest in Meria’s history.”

  He does not say it as a boast, but more just a simple fact.

  “Were you begrudged over the title?”

  “Perhaps by some. When my parents died, the king ordered me to be trained by a man named Albertus, who also trained his son.” He pauses, then adds, “He and Aldwine’s father served in the same company.”

  “You were trained by a mercenary?”

  “Aye, and one of the best. Have you heard of the Legion of Ash?”

  “Of course.”

  Kipp’s father was a member. As was this man, Albertus, it seems.

  “Kipp says they disbanded many years ago.”

  At his silence, I turn toward him. “Have they not?”

  There’s a sadness in Vanni I’m not accustomed to seeing.

  “Aye, they have. Some have died, others joined different companies. There are whispers of a secret order of its former members, but I’ve not seen evidence of one. After Albertus died, Matteo and I heard less and less of them.”

  “You were close with Prince Matteo, then?”

  “I was. I remember one day during pell training Albertus had us practicing for so long my eyes began to sting. Matteo later asked him why we’d not been given a break that day.”

  His face, suddenly so unguarded, takes me aback.

  “Instead of answering, Albertus continued the session, well into the night. Lanterns surrounded us, the men who held them more amused than us. It was the last time either Matteo or I asked Albertus to end a training session.”

  His sad smile is so bittersweet my shoulders sag in sorrow for him.

  “I am sorry, Vanni.”

  Unable to bear the pain on his face, I turn back, sorry I mistreated him when we first met. Our ways are, indeed, different. His arm tightens around me as Anbarth Castle comes into view. Built by Lord Bailor’s ancestors, among the first in Murwood, it is on the opposite end of the village from Nord, just beyond the Cliffs of Murh, which we ride alongside now.

  Built atop the highest cliff, encircled by a stone wall and small inner courtyard, the castle itself is eclipsed by its surroundings.

  The castle stands tall before us. As a blacksmith’s daughter, I should have little cause to visit such a place. But Lord Bailor is not a typical nobleman. Most often, we do not even think of him as one at all, but as a Voyager who happens to live in a grand place.

  Amma said he learned from the mistakes of his grandfather, who attempted to lead the people of Murwood, even naming himself king. For his efforts, he was pushed off the very cliff we pass now. A stone marker reminds those who pass it of Voyagers’ intolerance of being ruled by others. Bailor’s father learned the lesson well, quietly taking the inheritance of Anbarth but never attempting to extend his claim beyond its walls.

  On a whim, I put my hand over Vanni’s grip on my waist. To comfort him about his loss. Or at least, that is the reason I give myself for doing it. In response, Vanni slows Dex to near stopping. And then I feel him leaning in close to my ear once again.

  “I promised to give you safe escort, and will do so. Just so that we are clear, my lady, it is the only reason I haven’t kissed you yet.”

  His rough knuckles shift under my fingers, but they do not push me away. If I turn my head even the slightest, his lips will touch mine.

  You will not see him again after tomorrow. Tonight, maybe one other night, and then Vanni will be gone.

  And yet, I’m about to turn toward him anyway when someone calls to us from behind. Vanni dismounts and holds a hand up to me. Reluctantly, I let him assist me. Feet firmly on the ground, I’m about to walk around Dex to greet the cobbler, who’s approaching us from a distance with a wide grin, when Vanni stops me.

  “But I may do so yet this eve, when my escort duties are over, Lady Aedre,” he says with a wink.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Vanni

  I spot him immediately. Even if I hadn’t seen him last night, I would have known him on sight. He stands taller than any of the others, both in height and in bearing. His high cheekbones give him the look of Galfrid.

  Apparently Kipp sees us as well. Mid-conversation, he turns from his companions and makes his way toward us. He’s at the back of the great hall, though, and we’ve just entered it. Judging by the people who keep stopping him for a word or a greeting, it may take him a while to reach us. Having greeted our host and hostess, Aedre and I walk toward the gathering crowd, which is perhaps fifty or a bit more in number.

  “They are unaccustomed to seeing someone of your ilk here,” she whispers.

  Forgetting Aldwine for a moment, I shake my head. “They are looking at you, Aedre. Not me.”

  From what I’ve learned of Aedre thus far, she is very much in tune with others’ feelings. Their distress. Their interests. Their passions. But not so much her own.

  I would change that.

  “He’s coming toward us,” Aedre says.

  “I see him.”

  A serving girl approaches us with two goblets of wine, which we take with our thanks.

  I’m desperately going to need some wine after that ride. For as long as I live, I will remember the feeling of Aedre’s backside pressing against me. Of the way she laid her hand over mine, as if to tell me I wasn’t alone. That she felt and saw my pain.

  “Aedre?”

  It’s both a question and a warning. Aldwine glares at me as he would an enemy.

  “’Tis good to see you again so soon, Kipp,” she says. “May I introduce my escort, Lord Vanni d’Abella?”

  “Escort?” he spits out.

  Taking exception to his tone, I interject with, “My intentions are honorable, I can assure you.”

  I reach out my hand, but Aldwine does not take it.

  He is every bit a Voyager. And a warrior, too. Though I suspect the rumors of unprovoked attacks by such men are nothing more than rumors, I understand why so many believe them to be true.

  “Your intention is to gain an audience with me.”

  His tone is hard. Unforgiving.

  I look at Aedre and realize what he’s said to her. He believes I used her to get to him.

  “You do not believe that?” I address her, not him.

  Aedre takes a sip of wine but does not answer. I wait, ignoring Aldwine.

  “Aedre?”

  She blinks and lowers her goblet.

  “I do not believe that.”

  Though she says the words, I can tell the possibility bothers her. And although one of the reasons I originally sought an audience with her was to gain access to Kipp, my feelings for her are very real.

  “I cannot say the same,” Aldwine bites out.

  So it seems I’ve complicated my mission here by having grown close to a woman he cares for.

  “I’ve no argument with you, Master Aldwine,” I say, mostly sincere.

  His lips flatten. “Again, I cannot say the same.”

  “
Kipp.”

  Her scolding tone amuses me. Aedre addresses the future king like she might a wayward child.

  “You should not have brought him here,” Kipp sneers. “If you needed escort, I could have provided it.”

  Aedre rolls her eyes. “By the time my father shared the invitation and his intent to stay home, there was little time to send for you.”

  “And yet you sent for him?”

  If Aldwine were any other man in the world, I’d have a retort for that. Would likely already have challenged him.

  But this is Galfrid’s son.

  “He is staying in the village. Besides, I’ve told you already, I trust him. So enough of this silliness. Please be kind.”

  I assume he will do no such thing, but at her words, Aldwine frowns, turns to me, and lifts the goblet in his hand.

  “Good eve, then. We shall speak on the morrow. For Aedre.”

  Not quite a civil tone, but not combative either.

  “No need to part ways so soon, Kipp,” she says with a smile. “We will sit with you this eve.”

  His scowl is quick to return. “The hell you will.”

  I watch the exchange closely for any hint of flirting. There is none. They do speak to each other as a sister and brother might . . . and Kipp does not look at her the way a potential suitor would.

  The way I myself probably do.

  “We shall see,” Aedre murmurs as Kipp wanders off.

  I should be worried about Aldwine’s impression of me, which is obviously bad, but my mind is fixed on Aedre. I need her to understand something.

  “I did not cultivate a relationship with you because of your access to him.”

  As we talk, I move us toward the edge of the hall.

  “You know that, Aedre, do you not?”

  Her intelligent eyes look deep into my own.

  “Is that what we have been doing these past days? Cultivating?”

  She is as blunt as usual, so I honor her by speaking the same way.

  “I don’t know. ’Tis the most honest answer I can give you. I should have stayed away, but could not.”

  “You will be leaving soon.”

  A fact we both have known from the start.

  “Aye. Which is why I should have stayed away.” I lower my voice. “I’d not trifle with you, Aedre.”

  “I know. Let us enjoy this night. Tomorrow, you will meet with Kipp and then . . .”

  And then, I will leave Murwood End. A heaviness in my chest reminds me of how little time we have remaining.

  “I will not leave on the morrow,” I assure her.

  “But perhaps the day afterward?”

  “Likely, aye.”

  She looks toward the center of the hall, where guests are beginning to sit at trestle tables lined up one after the other.

  “’Tis enough.”

  I have no time to contemplate her words, to understand their meeting. A discussion at the entrance draws our attention. I see the Elderman and react immediately.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Aedre

  Vanni makes toward the entrance just as I see Father Beald entering the hall. I’d hoped the noxious man had left Murwood End, never to be seen again. Unfortunately, Lord Bailor ushers him inside just as Vanni makes his way through the crowd.

  I see him wait until the Elderman leaves our host, and then he descends. I cannot hear their words, but Vanni looks furious.

  I rush forward to join them, wishing to avoid a scene.

  “Shall I swim to Hempswood, then?”

  Vanni’s eyes blaze. He is not at all the man I just spoke with. This Vanni raises the hairs on my neck. He’s angry, every bit as much as he was that day at Sailor’s Inn.

  “I care not if you commission a ship or find a mount to cross the damn Loigh Mountains.”

  Father Beald glances at me. And though their voices are low, half the occupants of the hall, Lord Bailor included, are watching us.

  “I agreed not to return, not to leave Murwood immediately.” His voice carries the confidence of a man with few enemies.

  “You agreed to never find yourself within reach of her ever again.”

  The sharp edge of Vanni’s tone is not lost on those around us.

  “Either make yourself scarce or consider hard the consequences we discussed.”

  A new voice adds, “Can you not discern you’re unwanted here?”

  Kipp.

  If Father Beald holds Vanni and I in disregard, he has even less respect for Kipp. The two have fought many times before, the Elderman’s threats hanging over us both. I have often wondered what he would think of Kipp’s true parentage.

  “Ah, the great Voyager has returned. How many men did you kill on this journey, Master Aldwine?”

  “And how many of Murwood’s people have you converted to your cause, Father Beald?”

  Vanni doesn’t give him a chance to answer.

  “Why are you here?” he presses.

  Father Beald looks at me and then glances between Vanni and Kipp.

  “It seems you have acquired not one but two protectors, Mistress Aedre. Learning from Edrys how to use your Garra skills to entrap a man?”

  My hand rises before I can reconsider. The sound of my palm connecting with his cheek echoes in the hall, cutting through the sound of talking and laughter.

  The Elderman’s eyes widen as Lord Bailor steps in.

  “I invited you out of courtesy, Father Beald. But I believe your welcome here has run its course.”

  My hand still stings, but I feel no remorse. Not even when his cheek turns pink where I struck it.

  And then I see Vanni’s face.

  Knowing real terror for the first time in my life, I grab his hand and pull him away. The crowd parts for us, and we move to the far end of the hall near the kitchens.

  “You cannot kill an Elderman,” I say, knowing full well he may have done just that had we lingered. The look of pure fury on his face is only now lifting. Slightly. “He’s gone,” I say, watching Father Beald leave the hall.

  His shoulders rising and falling, Vanni looks at me for the first time since I pulled him back here.

  “I’m sorry, Aedre.”

  I pray to the very man Father Beald wields as his ultimate weapon.

  Dear God, give me the strength to deal with all men.

  “You need not apologize, Vanni. I appreciate you trying to protect me. But as you can see, I am not powerless to defend myself.”

  Kipp reaches us then.

  “Let me see it.” He grabs my hand. “Does it hurt?”

  I pull away, give both of them a hard look, and then turn back toward the front of the hall. With the Elderman gone, I make my way toward Lord Bailor to apologize for my actions. While I’m not sorry for having slapped a man who suggested that Amma taught me how to whore for protection, I am sorry for having altered the celebratory mood of the evening.

  But I will make it right if I must lead the singing and dancing myself.

  Vanni and Kipp can glare at each other in the meantime. With luck, they will both still be standing when I return.

  In the end, we did not sit with Kipp. After apologizing to Lord Bailor and his wife, I found Vanni in a conversation with one of Murwood’s only other noblemen, a minor baron from Edingham who landed on our shores ten years earlier and never left. By the time the two finish talking, the only open seats remaining are in the back of the hall.

  “You do not sit according to rank?” Vanni whispers as Bailor’s steward guides us to the open seats.

  Has he learned nothing from his time here?

  “Rank means very little here. You forget I am but a blacksmith’s daughter. Would I be welcome at such a feast in d’Almerita?”

  Vanni doesn’t answer, which is just as well. I already know that I would not.

  “Did you speak to Kipp after I left?”

  We take our seats. The other occupants of the table eye Vanni suspiciously as we do so, but they are quick to return to their o
wn conversation. Just as Vanni is quick to return to ours.

  “If you consider a grunted ‘Goddamn Elderman’ a conversation, then aye.”

  We talk of the incident and of the differences between Murwood End and Meria. Vanni shares tales of his childhood and training, and I tell him of Aloisa and others whom I’ve treated.

  When the music begins after dinner, Vanni takes my hand and leads me to the center of the hall. And before I know it, he’s spinning me around expertly, making me laugh harder than I ever have before. The man knows how to dance, a surprise given his profession.

  “I spend much time at court,” he explains, spinning me away from him and then back again.

  “Do you attract much attention there?”

  I already know that he does, but Vanni merely shrugs.

  “How do you not have a court of noblewomen begging for you to marry them?”

  “Did I say that I do not?”

  I laugh, even though we both know he likely speaks the truth.

  It feels as if my problems are lifted away, if only temporarily. The only weight I feel is that of Kipp’s glaring eyes. Two songs later, I excuse myself to talk to him, leaving Vanni in the large circle of dancers. I watch him for a moment. Soaking him in. He is as comfortable here as in the training yard.

  Raised not only at court, but by a king. Of course he is comfortable in this hall. With men like Lord Bailor.

  “You’ve not taken your eyes off him all evening,” Kipp comments blandly.

  I remind myself this feast is being held to celebrate his return with his men. So instead of quipping back, I search Kipp’s eyes for a hint of acceptance. There is none.

  “You do not like him.”

  His answer is immediate.

  “Nay. I am surprised you do, given your mistrust of those in power.”

  “You mean those who might condemn me for my beliefs?”

  Even Kipp can recognize Vanni is not such a man.

  “Like Father Beald?” I add.

  Finally, a hint of a smile.