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

by Cecelia Mecca

  I grit my teeth even harder, biting out, “I would tell her to marry me, that I refuse to leave Murwood End without her.”

  That Aldwine chuckles infuriates me even further.

  “She’s right. You do not understand her at all. And that is why she will not see you. Go home. Go back to the king.”

  The man is actually serious. “Why are you here? Did she send you here to talk to me?”

  Again, silence.

  “If I do not know her, it’s because she will not let me attempt to.”

  Aldwine shakes his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Southerner. Aedre let you in where she denied all others.”

  I ignore the pain caused by his words.

  “I will not leave without at least speaking to her.”

  Aldwine is quiet for a moment, and then, unexpectedly, he pulls out his sword.

  “She says you are a man of honor.”

  I hold my stance, prepared to fight but not really willing to do so. Not with him.

  “I am.”

  It is the truest statement I’ve made all day, and nothing I’ve said today was a lie, even to Stokerton.

  “Then give me your word. If I defeat you, you’ll respect Aedre’s wishes and leave Murwood End without causing her further pain. If you win, I will take you to her straightaway.”

  There is no decision to make. I will not lose.

  “Done.”

  He puts his sword up. And for a wretched moment, I remember who trained him.

  I hear my own mentor’s voice in my mind: A man assured of victory means as little as a man who wishes never to die.

  Albertus would chide me for accepting a challenge with a potential outcome I find unacceptable. But he did not account for the purpose of the challenge being a woman. And for Aedre, I’ll not lose.

  Aldwine is deft in his initial attack, his training serving him well, and in no time at all, the small courtyard begins to fill with observers. I can sense the presence of my men, likely curious as to the nature of this challenge.

  I sidestep his strike, surprised at his skill. Though I anticipated he would disengage, his quick lunge puts me on the defensive.

  With blow after blow, the clang of our swords ring out. Without shields, it is a very different fight, blocking impossible. Instead, I catch his strikes by deflecting them. Aldwine does the same. Although I hate myself for it, part of me does hold back. Our swords are not blunted, and it wouldn’t bode well to injure Galfrid’s son. Nor would Aedre thank me for hurting her friend.

  The thought of Aedre finding out I injured Kipp stays with me. It’s hard to banish, and so I try to put a quick end to our challenge. It’s my downfall. Aldwine takes advantage of a slight slip on my part, and the tip of his sword is pointed directly at my nose before I can fully bring my own down to parry it.

  I raise both hands, indicating that I yield.

  It is my first loss since my trainer died. Even sickened, the man could anticipate my every move, and only once, in all the years that we trained together, did I ever gain the upper hand.

  From my observations, Kipp Aldwine is all his father says of him, and more. A highly skilled swordsman, a man determined to protect those he loves. One who others clearly look up to and support, even if he is a reluctant leader.

  On the battlefield, a loss meant death. Here, in this small makeshift training yard, it means something nearly impossible to consider.

  “Leave Murwood End, if you are truly a man of your word.”

  Aldwine puts down his weapon to cheers from his people. I know my own men are behind me, but I do not turn to look at them. Instead, I stare into the eyes of a man destined to be king. How can he not recognize the royal blood that courses through his veins?

  “I am, and I will. But I tell you this, Master Aldwine. You were born for the role.” I lower my voice. “And I would gladly serve you.”

  He is unmoved by my declaration.

  “If Aedre truly does not wish to see me, tomorrow after my meeting with the queen’s commander”—I can hardly believe these words are coming from me—“my men and I will depart for d’Almerita.”

  Ignoring all around us, I wait for his response.

  Aldwine does not hesitate.

  “Then I bid you a good day, my lord.”

  With a quick nod of the head, Aldwine sheathes his sword and turns to leave.

  The men surround me, all speaking at once. Incredulous that I lost, effusively praising Aldwine’s swordsmanship. My arm burns with the effort of our engagement. I slip my sword back into its sheath.

  Salvi repeats the question he and the others continue to ask.

  “Why did you fight Aldwine?”

  The question finally penetrates, but I can’t bring myself to answer it. I am numb with the thought of leaving without seeing her again.

  “Vanni?”

  All three of my men surround me, and so I give them as much as I’m able.

  “He defends Aedre. We leave tomorrow.”

  Walking away, knowing my answer is insufficient but unable to care, I leave the inn. I walk past the docks and head toward the one place I’ve found a measure of solace in Murwood End.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Aedre

  “Aedre, you have a visitor.”

  My heart leaps until I see Kipp in the doorframe.

  “You terrified me. For a moment, I thought . . .”

  He sits down on the edge of my bed.

  “You thought I was d’Abella?”

  Sitting up, I shove the doll underneath my pillow. But not quickly enough.

  “I see her under there.”

  Only Kipp could force a smile from me right now.

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  He’s much too quick. Before I can shove him away, Kipp reaches over and snatches the yarn doll out from under the pillow.

  “Ah, let me see if I can remember.”

  He points to her one red arm. “A reminder of the woman’s flow and the strength she possesses.”

  Kipp turns the doll Amma gave me upside down by its foot, its orange leg on display.

  “The Garra scorn the church’s belief that women are polluted by their desire for sex and are drawn to men as a result of this pollution. Instead, they revel in the belief that we are sexual beings by design, certainly nothing to be ashamed of. And this pink arm is for pleasure, derived from your own hand or another.”

  I groan and beg him to stop, which only seems to encourage him.

  “The yellow leg, a reminder the woman is not an evil temptress or a virginal goddess but can be everything in between, if she so chooses.”

  He pokes the middle of my yarn Kona directly in the center of the depiction of a dove. “And this, the most important symbol of all. Defiance of the belief that a man and woman cannot find romantic love in marriage.”

  “Imagine,” I scoff, unable to resist, “convening a court to determine such a thing.”

  Though this “court” ruled in the favor of marital love nearly one hundred years earlier, the vestiges of such a belief are obviously alive and well outside Murwood End.

  “You forget in many parts of Meria nobles attempt to retain, or grow, their lands and influence through marriage. Marriage for love is simply not possible for them. And so they rail against the idea of it in every way possible.”

  “You tell me what I know already, Kipp.” I snatch the doll from him, swatting him on the shoulder with my other hand. “Cease your laughing. The Kona is sacred, as well you know.”

  “And you need no reminders of her lessons. So why does she hide under your pillow?”

  I put her back there knowing she’s not completely out of his reach.

  “She reminds me of Amma.”

  Kipp sobers immediately. But before he can apologize, I confess, “And I needed a distraction. So I cleaned out the house today and found her among my belongings.”

  “So?” I ask, unable to wait any longer, the stricken look on his face making me want to
change topics. I did not intend to make him feel poorly.

  “He believes you are still at Nord. And will not be coming to find you.”

  Though it is precisely what I asked of him, I feel a pang of disappointment in my chest.

  “’Twould be much too painful, speaking to him. Nor do I trust myself when I am around him.”

  I know it is myself, and not Kipp, I attempt to convince. When I learned Vanni was still in Murwood, so much of me wanted to run to the inn. To find him, hold him. Tell him that I love him and maybe even say the words that would bind us together for life.

  I will marry you.

  Since yesterday, I’ve envisioned myself saying that very phrase so many times. Riding from Murwood End with him atop Dex. Sleeping in the same bed and waking up to his face each morn. But I have also imagined the pain I will feel saying goodbye to Father and Kipp and everyone else from home. Spending long days at court with strangers, with Vanni nowhere to be found.

  Living with a husband who offered marriage simply out of duty. Who deceived me, even as I know in my heart his interest in me was not solely to get close to Kipp.

  Nay, that is not the husband I would have. But still, I cannot keep my mind from wandering. Maybe it will be easier once he leaves?

  “What did he say?” I press.

  Kipp shrugs. “That he would not leave without speaking to you. And so I challenged him.”

  I must not have heard him correctly.

  “Pardon?”

  “Men like him . . . he would not let it go. So I challenged him. He accepted, and lost. So he is leaving, as we agreed.”

  Only Kipp.

  “They say he is an excellent swordsman.”

  Thank heavens I did not know of this fight when it was happening. I shudder to think of Kipp and Vanni swinging unblunted swords at each other.

  “He is.”

  “And yet you beat him?”

  Kipp smiles. “Aye.”

  “Easily?”

  “Nay.”

  “He leaves now?” I ask, my voice shriller than I would like. I should be relieved. If Vanni set terms with Kipp, he will honor them. And yet . . .

  Kipp shifts on the edge of the bed, to sit more comfortably, I presume.

  “Tomorrow. Apparently he is to meet with Lord Stokerton again. I’ve heard they met once already.”

  “Do you know what they spoke of?”

  “Nay.”

  “Or why they meet again?”

  “Nay.”

  “Ugh.”

  Kipp chuckles. “Perhaps you should speak to the man yourself. You’ve enough questions to keep him here until the morrow.”

  I toss my pillow at him, but Kipp is too quick for me and catches it.

  Tomorrow. If I want to see him, there is still time . . .

  “How were you able to bring a smile to her face?” my father asks at the door.

  Kipp stands, patting the spot from which he’d risen.

  “Come and see for yourself. ’Tis not hard. Just ask what she keeps under her remaining pillow.”

  I make a strangled sound. Kipp knows that while my father may have built a healing room for me, he does not care for reminders of my training.

  Kipp leaves, and my father settles in the spot he vacated.

  Knowing he will ask, I pull out the Kona again and show it to him. When he leans toward me, I think he means to take it, but instead, he closes my fingers around the doll, turning my hand into a fist.

  “Treasure it, and the memory of Edrys.”

  I would not have been more surprised had my Amma come back to life and walked into the chamber.

  “Father?”

  He doesn’t move his hand.

  “I’ve failed you, Aedre.”

  I put my other hand over his, shaking my head.

  “Nay, never . . .”

  “You are so very much like your mother. And ’tis not a surprise, given your Amma’s influence. She would be so proud of you.”

  All will be well.

  “But you still dislike this part of me?”

  My father has never looked so . . . vulnerable before.

  “I worry for you, maybe overly much, but there is no part of you I dislike. How could there be? Look at the woman you’ve become.”

  I feel awful about keeping a secret from him. Perhaps I’ll tell him one day, long after Vanni has left. “I’ve made mistakes,” I confess. “I miss Amma so much.”

  “As do I. But she is still here.” He points to my heart.

  “Father, do you wish you’d married again? Are you not lonely for companionship?”

  He thinks on that and then answers.

  “Nay, I am not lonely. I have you and the forge. ’Tis all I need.”

  It is as I thought. I could never leave Murwood End. Father needs me, and he would never leave the forge behind. Not that it mattered—I was not going anywhere.

  By tomorrow eve, Vanni will be nothing more than a part of my past. A man who swept into Murwood End, captured my heart, and then left me behind to mend it back together.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Vanni

  “Goddammit man, I don’t need your help.”

  I try again to shove Thomas’s hand away, only to stumble up the top stair, cursing.

  “Nay? You are sure?”

  I remember locking my room, but he opens the door as if by magic.

  “How did you do that?”

  Thomas lifts up my key.

  “Where did you get it?”

  He shoves me inside, none too gently. “You gave it to me.”

  I take off my belt and lay it, and the sword, on a chair next to my bed.

  “I hardly think you’ll need it this eve,” he scoffs. “God help you if you do.”

  Kicking off my boots, I sit on the bed. Thomas moves his lantern from one hand to the other, the light flashing strangely as if we’re out to sea and a thick fog has rolled in.

  “I think I’ll rest.”

  Thomas laughs. “Aye, you rest. I’ll be up to wake you in the morn.”

  I focus on my friend rather than the light. “Wake me? I’m no child.”

  Another chuckle.

  Thomas thinks I’m drunk, and maybe I have had too much ale, but I’d still be able to defend us both if called to do so.

  “She won’t see me.”

  I haven’t said a word of Aedre all eve. As the men ate and drank with those they’ve come to know in our time here, I skipped the former and concentrated on the latter.

  “Aedre?”

  “Aye.”

  “Why won’t she see you?”

  Maybe I am a bit whittled. I hadn’t meant to speak of any of this, but it feels good to unburden myself.

  “I brought her back here, just to hold her. Comfort her. Couldn’t do it when we sent her Amma out to sea. I didn’t mean for it . . . she asked me to . . .”

  Thomas shifts the lantern again. It’s making me dizzy.

  “She was a virgin. But she asked, and I was too weak to say no. And then she ran out. Fled to Nord. To him.”

  Thomas comes closer. Then he’s suddenly at eye level.

  “Was she the reason you fought Aldwine?”

  He’s squatting in front of me.

  “He said she didn’t want to talk to me. I accepted his challenge and lost, and now I’m honor bound to leave without her.”

  “She clearly cares for you,” he says, perplexed. “Why wouldn’t she want to see you after she gave herself to you?”

  Did she give herself to me? No. Not completely.

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “I told her we would marry.”

  Thomas coughs. So loudly, I think there might be something wrong with him.

  “Are you well?”

  “You asked Aedre to marry you?”

  “Aye.”

  And then I think back, as best as I’m able.

  “Mayhap I didn’t ask. I assumed ’twas already decided.”

  He makes a sound, stands up, a
nd then pushes me back onto the bed. I let him, only because I am really, really tired.

  “You’ve strange notions of love, Vanni. You do not demand marriage from a woman like Aedre. Though I know her only from afar, ’tis enough to know you are a fool.”

  Strange notions of love? I have no notions of love. My parents died. The king and queen do not love one another. Few at court marry for love.

  I know how to wield a sword. How to lead an army of men. How to inspire loyalty in those who follow me. How to be a good subject to the king.

  I know many things. But love? The thought is laughable.

  I reach out, grab the hilt of my sword to ensure myself it’s there.

  And then I let the dreamworld take me.

  “A bargain is struck, then.”

  Stokerton stands.

  We met alone this time. And a good thing, as I’m sick to death of Thomas’s snickering. All morn he has kept giving me glances that indicate he knows something I do not. But whenever I’ve asked him about it, the bastard just laughs.

  “You understand I will pursue my purpose here?” Stokerton says, reaching out a hand. “Until we reach an official agreement, we are, in effect, at war.”

  “If you can convince the Voyagers to fight for the queen, so be it.”

  For now, an agreement that we will speak to our respective rulers, proposing peace, will have to be enough.

  Unlike those we serve, neither Stokerton nor I need to consider the will of noblemen whose power and influence can turn support toward or against us. We’ve nothing to lose and are therefore in a position to act as righteously as we want. To hope for peace this land has never seen. At least, not since the kingdoms split.

  “You will send word?” I ask.

  “Aye.”

  When he smiles, I remind myself this is my enemy. One who’s in love with Queen Cettina. He speaks of her as I might . . .

  As I might of Aedre.

  With adoration.

  With reverence.

  With love.

  As we part, I allow myself to think of Aedre, something I refused to do after Aldwine snatched away my right to see her one last time.