by Frank Morin
“May I suggest that you pick a less important room to trash?” Ivor asked with a grin.
The two of them looked ridiculously pleased with themselves, but settled for holding hands instead of punching. Anika glanced around the room and noticed the rest of them for the first time.
Hamish waved. “No need to crush my skull. I’m only a casual friend.”
Anika laughed and said in Grandurian, “It’s good to see you, Builder. Might need your help finding Erich. He was supposed to be stationed at Badurach, but we couldn’t find him when we flew in.”
“We?”
Captain Ilse and her husband Lukas stepped into the room over the shattered remains of the door. “I’m assuming it’s safe to enter now.” They both saluted to Ivor and then to Rory. Ilse gave Rory an approving smile. “Congratulations on your bold move, general. We’ve been ordered with a full company of Crushers to assist you with the revolution.”
Rory turned back to Anika and took both of her hands in his. “We’ll get to that business soon enough. But there are more important things to deal with first.”
Looking nervous again, he took a deep breath, then continued in a rush. “Anika, if I’m throwing caution to the wind, declaring revolution against the dread queen, rising up against everything I was taught all my life, I can’t do it alone. I need you by my side.”
He sank to one knee and finished in a rush, nearly choking on the words. “Will you marry me?”
Anika gasped, color rising in her cheeks. Then her smile ignited like a max-tapped Solas, growing so wide they were going to need a bigger door to get her out of the tower.
She started to nod, but then her expression fell and she looked crestfallen. “Mine capitain, in Granadure we no make question like this. Brother must approve.”
“I’ve already dueled with Erich, remember?”
She nodded but still looked sad. “Must ask parents. They are many far.”
That was right. Hamish had forgotten all about that tradition. Rory’s audacity, bravery, and suicidal infatuation had eclipsed any kind of normal thinking. In Granadure it was considered extremely bad for a bride to accept a marriage proposal before her parents gave permission.
Instead of looking upset by the challenge, Rory rose and smiled. “In that case, don’t you think we should invite them in to hear what they say?”
Ivor moved around to an inner door that led to another room and opened it. An elderly couple, both short and wizened, stepped into the room hand in hand, grinning widely. Erich followed them, towering over the aged couple.
Anika gasped, her hands coming to her face. “Mother? Father? How?”
Rory looked immensely pleased with himself. “Ivor was familiar with your customs, and he was kind enough to enlist Erich’s aid in fetching your parents. They just arrived last night.”
Anika laughed and rushed to hug her parents. Hamish was immensely impressed. If Rory kept thinking that cleverly, he might just survive the first month of marriage to the deadly Grandurian woman.
Anika’s parents hugged her excitedly and spoke in rapid Grandurian. They were both elderly, but still spry. Her father’s hair was mostly white, his face weathered, but his blue eyes sparkled with joy. Her mother was a petite woman, with long, silvery hair that she styled in loose curls. They both dressed well, like wealthy merchants or minor nobility.
Her mother passed her a delicate little glass bottle with a painted label that looked like some kind of flower. “We brought some of your best perfume, just in case you’ve run out.”
She accepted the bottle with obvious pride.
Hamish approached, studying the perfume. “You like to buy perfume?”
Anika’s mother shook her head. “No. My daughter designed this perfume. It is a best seller across all Granadure.”
“Really?” He struggled to picture Anika doing anything with flowers other than crushing them. Then again, wasn’t perfume made from crushing flowers?
Anika flushed and handed the bottle back to her mother. “Keep an eye on this for me. I don’t want to break it.”
She then turned to Hamish and added, “I wasn’t always part of Ilse’s team.”
He tried to ask another question, but she made a shushing gesture. “Now’s not the time. Please translate so my Rory can understand our conversation.”
“I’d be honored.”
Anika’s mother said, “Erich explained the situation with this handsome general, but are you sure you want to marry a southern barbarian?”
Anika laughed and assured them she did. Her parents did not look surprised. No doubt they had grilled Erich already about the strange relationship. Together they turned to Rory and bowed over his hands.
Erich translated this time. “We give blessing to union. Is very strange, but eldest son swears you are man of strength and honor, and daughter loves many deep affection. Is only way to win this precious girl. Cherish and keep each other safe.”
Hamish nearly laughed at that last. Didn’t they know Anika? Hadn’t they heard the exuberant greeting and seen the smashed furniture?
Anika hugged her parents again, still blushing and breaking into wide grins that she seemed to be trying unsuccessfully to control. At the same time, she looked close to panic.
She faced Rory, who looked eager for a response. “I have much sorry, but must needs special dress.” She gestured at the plates and straps of her leather battle armor. “No can accept in this.”
“Nay, lass,” Rory said, gently taking her hands again. “You look most beautiful dressed as a warrior maiden, with battle lust in your eyes. I prefer you answer me exactly how you are.”
Her blush deepened and her hands gripped Rory’s tight. Her smile grew radiant and she exclaimed, “Then I accept!”
Rory looked like he could not believe it, and Hamish was right there with him. Starting a revolution was not enough for the general. He needed to risk his life in a far more intimate way. Hamish wished them luck.
The happy couple embraced passionately again. Hamish tensed and prepared to duck when they launched back into another lover’s bash fight.
They didn’t.
When they finally broke the kiss a long, long time later, Rory swelled with granite power and threw a punch. Anika grabbed his hand in both of hers and just held on, laughing.
“No, mine Rory. We no must fight. I accept. I surrender.”
He looked thunderstruck. “Really?”
She laughed again, looking like a happy girl. Well, an extremely deadly happy girl. “In Granadure, battle maidens must fight many strong to show her man she is strong and no will surrender ever to another. But accept mean we no have to fight anymore.”
“Oh. That’s great.” He tried to look enthusiastic about the abrupt change in their relationship, but wasn’t entirely convincing.
Anika winked then. “But now we can train together every day!”
She punched him in the chin.
Ilse looked close to tears, and she clutched Lukas’s hand in far too ladylike a fashion. Anika’s parents looked so proud they might burst, and Erich look resigned.
Laughing, Rory rose and reached for Dougal’s desk.
Ivor shouted, “Oh, no you don’t. You two go practice outside.”
“But—” They both cried together, then looked at each other and laughed.
Ivor groaned. “You’re making me positively nauseous. In a good way. If that is possible. Enjoy yourselves.”
Then a wave of water blasted in through the smashed doorway and swept them both out the window. They laughed all the way down the outside of the tower, already pummeling each other with unrestrained enthusiasm.
Hamish lost sight of them after Rory threw Anika through the wall of a smithy. He charged in after her, and by the sounds of it, they started fighting with all the metal implements in there. Within seconds, hammers, tongs, and an entire oxen yoke harness burst out through the walls. That building was doomed.
Erich moped by the window nearby, with h
is parents comforting him.
“She is a battle maiden, son. You can’t imagine she’ll quit the company and settle down to the life of a housewife,” His mother was saying. “Look at how they beat on each other. I’ve never seen her happier.”
“I need to hit something,” Erich said.
When Hamish translated that, Tomas and Cameron perked up immediately. They’d drifted over to Dougal’s private stash of expensive liquor to celebrate the engagement, but Cameron chortled, “I’ve got just the thing. To celebrate the insanity, eh, engagement let’s host a general bash fight between the Fast Rollers and the Crushers.”
Tomas added, “Since we’ve got to start working together, there’s no better time to really take the measure of each other.”
Erich loved the idea, and neither Ilse nor Lukas seemed inclined to get in the way. The trio trooped off together, already singing a loud battle song together.
Hamish watched them go, wondering if any of Merkland would survive the night. Luckily Ilse ordered them all to fight in the open squares and they more or less obeyed.
Granite powder flowed like wine that night and citizens cowed in their homes while elite warriors beat on each other, singing the most boisterous battle songs they knew while Rory and Anika proved to the world that they were meant to be together.
The festivities eventually spread through the entire city. Everyone seemed eager for something to celebrate. Hamish wasn’t sure if the magnitude of signing up for a revolution against Queen Dreokt and High Lord Dougal had started settling over them, or if they just admired Rory’s courage. Either way, few people got much sleep.
Late the next morning he was finishing a large breakfast in the main hall, which was still remarkably intact and very empty. Too many people had stayed up too late and were sleeping in.
A tired-looking Strider jogged into the hall and glanced around. He spotted Hamish and stumbled over, looking on the verge of collapse. Hamish gestured him to a seat and pushed the last two sausages in his direction. The man grabbed one gratefully and saluted with it, then gobbled it down in one bite.
After downing half a pitcher of juice he asked, “What’s the celebration for?”
“General Rory got engaged.”
“To that scary Grandurian woman?”
“The same.”
The Strider saluted again, with the pitcher this time, and took another long drag. “Everyone says he’s the bravest man in Obrion.”
Hamish chuckled and decided not to tell the man he’d heard that joke seven hundred times during the last night. Instead he asked, “How is it that you don’t know anything about it?”
The man pulled from inside his jerkin a scroll wrapped in waterproof oilskin. “Important message for the general.”
“I doubt he’ll be in any condition to read it any time soon.”
“I figured as much, that’s why I’m handing it to you.”
“I don’t actually have any official rank here.”
“I know, but I recognize you, Builder. This news needs to reach Granadure too, and I hear you’re the man who can do that.”
So Hamish unwrapped the scroll. It was from Ailsa, and as he scanned the contents, his good humor evaporated.
He found Ivor sleeping under High Lord Dougal’s desk up in his tower, and kicked him awake.
“What makes you so mean in the morning?” Ivor grumbled as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.
Hamish pushed the scroll in front of him. “You need to read this. Celebration is over. Harley is bringing an army to crash the wedding.”
65
There Can Be Only One
Connor eagerly pushed open the door and slipped into Saskia’s personal library. The note Saskia had sent to him had suggested Verena was finally ready to see him. He’d been so anxious, he’d barely resisted the urge to storm her rooms by force. But she’d sent word that she needed some time before accepting visitors.
If only he’d lingered a few extra seconds when he first arrived. The memory of her sitting upright, conscious, and happy to see him still filled him with exultant joy. He couldn’t imagine not going after the assassin who had dared assault her, though.
When he had leaped over the balcony after the assassin, he had landed on the woman as she tried to rise in the snowy courtyard. Connor had not bothered tapping one of his inconsistent tertiary powers, but had simply attacked with fury so deep and raw, it made the rampager rage seem flighty.
To think Abigail had been so diligent in watching over Verena only to ensure she never woke up. He shuddered to think of the many hours Abigail had spent alone near Verena. She could have ended her life and no one would have doubted that Verena simply succumbed to her injuries. That betrayal of trust fueled his rage even hotter. He’d been tapping basalt at the time, and in his rage he had remembered the time that Lorcc punched a Blade in one of the student battles, hitting him so fast the man could not fall to the ground fast enough.
Connor had actually managed to frack his upper arms. He had not even known that was possible, but all of a sudden his hands were striking the pretend Healer so fast they blurred. Connor didn’t usually like hitting women, but he’d felt no hesitation whatsoever as he beat down Abigail.
He’d broken every one of his fingers before he could stop himself. That just made him angrier and he kicked her several times in the ribs, breaking most of them. He would have surely killed her if not for Nicklaus’s suicidal leap off the balcony.
He’d reluctantly left the bloody and unconscious Abigail with officials of the citadel guard, but hadn’t been allowed to see Verena again until now. So he pushed through the doorway, already grinning, imagining her there, moving to greet him.
It was not Verena who waited on the far end of the room, standing in front of the fireplace.
It was Mattias.
Connor frowned and crossed the room. “Where’s Verena?”
If Mattias thought he could play silly games and keep Connor from seeing her, Connor would find out if Mattias knew how to fly.
Mattias frowned, looking just as impatient as Connor felt. “I was informed that she is completing a series of tests to verify she is of sound mind after her long sleep. She has asked that we both go in to see her together.”
“Why would she do that?”
“As if I’ve ever understood why Verena does anything,” Mattias said with a sigh. He paced away before turning. “Don’t forget our deal, Connor. Verena appears to be fully recovered and healthy, but she’s been through great trauma. She doesn’t need—”
Connor interrupted him impatiently. Mattias seemed to like that angelic voice of his far too much. “I know. I’ll honor our agreement as long as you do. Let Verena choose who she wants to be with. You couldn’t force her to accept someone she doesn’t want anyway.”
He almost wished Mattias would try it, and imagined some of the different mechanicals that Verena might employ to remind Mattias that she had a mind of her own. Most of the ones he considered resulted in several of those beautiful, glowing teeth getting knocked out.
Then he remembered Mattias leaning over Verena while clinging to the back of the Swift, kissing her on the lips. Verena had not beaten him senseless that time.
He tried to drive that memory from his mind, but it clung to his thoughts like a leech. Thankfully the outer door opened and Nicklaus trotted inside. He waved enthusiastically when he saw the two of them standing near the fire and rushed over.
“Connor, is now a good time for you to teach me how to punch someone so fast?” Nicklaus asked excitedly.
“Only if Mattias volunteers to be the punching dummy,” Connor said with a straight face.
Mattias glared at Connor. “Don’t be stupid.”
Nicklaus looked dejected. “Come on, Mattias. It won’t hurt for too long. I bet Connor would even heal you afterward.”
Connor grinned as Mattias tried to stammer an excuse that would make sense to the disappointed six-year-old. “Come on, Mattias. Don’t disappoint Ni
cklaus. You’re a better friend than that.”
For a second, Connor dared to hope that Mattias might actually give in to Nicklaus’s pleading, but Mattias said, “I have a better idea. After I speak with Verena, I could go find that knife I promised you.”
Nicklaus immediately forgot about learning to frack punch. “That’s right! You promised. If I had a knife, I could have stabbed that mean lady.”
Promising that little boy a knife was a singularly bad idea. Connor said, “You did a wonderful job, Nicklaus. I need to find out what that assassin said when they interrogate her, so I’m glad you didn’t stab her.”
Nicklaus nodded, but suddenly looked worried. “Mother said I shouldn’t hate people, but I hate that bad lady.”
Connor dropped to one knee and gave him a quick hug. “It’s all right, Nicklaus. I bet even your mother will hate her.”
The door opened again and one of Saskia’s handmaidens entered. “Lady Saskia asked me to summon you to her study. Lady Verena’s ready for visits now.”
Connor hurried for the door with Mattias close beside. They nearly trampled the handmaiden at the door, neither of them willing to cede the opening to the other. She sensed the danger just in time and backpedaled into the hallway, hurrying back toward lady Saskia’s study, just barely keeping ahead of them. Connor was tempted to break into a run, but no doubt Mattias would do the same thing. Verena had asked for both of them to come in together, so unfortunately that’s what they were going to do.
Saskia’s study was the same vaulted room where Connor had first met her. Mattias managed to slip through the doorway first, only because Connor refrained from punching him in the back of the neck.
Connor stopped in the doorway and stared.
Verena sat in an overstuffed chair, drawn up close to the crackling fire on the opposite side of the room, near the tall window trimmed in colorful stained-glass. She was dressed in a burgundy dress that made her look elegant, noble, but somehow vulnerable all at the same time.
Connor had grown used to seeing her in her fantastic, custom battle armor. Her hair hung in gentle black waves that seemed to caress her face, and her lips were curled back in that familiar little smile that he loved so much.