“Carr’Bon Veer sends his message to the princess, Jah’Moke,” Cah’Fene said softly. Jah’Moke nodded and sent for Java.
Java arrived and immediately found herself receiving a very affectionate hug from her future brother-in-law. “Mother sends you her love, Java,” he whispered before composing himself to deliver the message from their chief. “Princess Java,” he began, and Java was surprised by the deep voice that issued from the young man. He even sounded like the Carr’Bon. “The Latté send their greetings and good wishes. Duchess Samantha has granted us the right of graze for our herds and flocks, and we are well repaid for our efforts to aid her. When the time comes, only Jah’Moke’s immediate family will be able to come to your side for the wedding. We mean no disrespect by this. It is just that we are loath to leave such friendly territory. Still, there will be eighty of us, led by myself. Send the date with Cah’Fene when you send him back. So Iss Da Com, Princess of Hiddendell.” Cah’Fene shook himself slightly, blinking rapidly to recover from the effect of speaking as the Carr’Bon.
Java smiled at her future family. “Cah’Fene, we will be married in the month of the Frost Moon, on the sixteenth day. How long will you be staying with us before you go back?”
Cah’Fene smiled deeply. He was not in awe of Java, in spite of her titles. How could he be? She was to be his sister. “I would like to travel to the place where the Amberdrake slew the tyrant king, if I may. Then I must return to Lender’s Dale with your message.”
Java smiled at that and looked at Jah’Moke. “I think we can take a little trip, Jah’Moke. It’s only about two days southwest from here.”
Jah’Moke nodded and smiled at his little brother. Cah’Fene was only sixteen and had missed most of the fighting. Still, he had made his kill and was accounted a man. “We still must ask Arten and Naria, but I do not see why they would object. Tonight, we have much to say to one another, my brother.” Java excused herself to give them privacy and went to see her parents.
“Naria, is there any pressing need for Jah’Moke and myself to be present for the next five days?” she asked as she walked in to Naria and Arten’s office.
Both the duke and duchess were present, and Arten answered. “No, not really. Things are pretty calm right now. What do you have in mind?”
“Jah’Moke’s brother is here with messages, and he asked to go see the Burned Lands before he returns to the Latté,” she replied, smiling at their surprise. “We’ll be gone for four or five days.” At Arten’s nod she went to one other person. Lord Emver Drakeson, Lord of Blackburn County.
The servant who opened the door to Lord Drakeson’s suite stared wide-eyed for a moment, then bowed the princess inside. “How may I be of service, please?” she asked, still obviously intimidated by the princess’ presence.
“Is Lord Emver present?” Java asked softly, but before the servant could answer another voice joined in.
“He is in the bath, Princess. How may I help you?” Lady Elinda asked from her chair by the fire.
Java bowed slightly, then walked over to the lady’s side. “Jah’Moke’s brother is here, Elinda, and he wants to go see the Burned Lands. I thought it would be courteous to inform you that we were going that way.”
Lady Elinda smiled and nodded, motioning Java to a seat. “Is he as handsome as his brother, Java?”
Java smiled softly at that. “He’s close, Elinda. Very close. He’s quite a bit younger though. Only sixteen.”
Lady Elinda smiled deeply at that. “Ah, to be young...Thank you for informing us, Java. Please stop in at Blackburn and visit the children. I’m sure Selvin will be interested in meeting you and Jah’Moke. And Elise is no doubt going to be happy to meet your future brother-in-law. She thinks Jah’Moke is just oh!, so handsome!” Elinda said, laughing. Her daughter was just fourteen and fell in and out of love easily.
Java laughed and left with the promise that she would stop and say hello when she went. She returned to Jah’Moke’s suite to inform the men of the plans that she had arranged. Jah’Moke offered her his lap when she entered the suite and kissed her.
“Did Arten or Naria have any objections?”
“No,” Java replied, kissing him back. “I also stopped in and said hello to Lord Emver and Lady Elinda. They said to stop and see their children while we’re there. Lord Selvin is a little older than you, Jah’Moke. He’ll be the next Lord of Blackburn County.”
The three left the next morning, with Lieutenant Norstrand and his contingent of Guards close on their heels. Java and Jah’Moke kept Cah’Fene close between them until he got over his suspicion at having armed men at his back. Jah’Moke had a hard time getting Cah’Fene to leave his camping gear behind. The boy had never slept in an inn before and didn’t know what to expect.
“You mean they even supply blankets?” he had asked, his wide eyes making Jah’Moke laugh.
“And a bed box with a mattress,” Java had added, amused. “Cah’Fene, just follow our lead. You’ll be fine.”
The trip was fast and uneventful. After two days of easy riding they entered a clearing that was devoid of all vegetation except a lichen-like growth that matted the ground. In one place, even the lichen was missing. This was where Amberdrake had burned away the remains of King Blackmoore, melting the ground with dragonfire.
Cah’Fene walked reverently around the area with Jah’Moke, then both men knelt and bowed their heads to the ground, reciting a prayer of reverence in High Latté.
Lieutenant Norstrand watched them curiously, unable to understand what they were saying. “Princess,” he whispered, “what are they doing?”
“It’s a prayer in High Latté, honoring Amberdrake,” she replied softly. She was just barely able to follow their words as they continued to drone on. Finally, the brothers stood and bowed one more time before walking back to Java’s side.
“Java, I thank you,” Cah’Fene said formally, his face somber.
Jah’Moke bowed deeply, then hugged Java. “This is an honor for us, Java.”
That surprised her. “An honor, Jah’Moke? Why?”
Cah’Fene looked to Jah’Moke, then spoke. “Java, you know that we are descendants of the people that the Great Dandarshandrake guided to form the Luxandian Empire. We all are. But the Latté are more directly descended than most. Long ago, when the empire first formed, there were Latté. It was Lah’Tay then, the herders of sheep, but we are still the same people. Few others can trace their history back to the founding. To visit the site where a dragon has left an indelible mark is to visit our history.”
Lieutenant Norstrand stepped forward, looking closely at Cah’Fene. He had listened with interest to the boy’s explanation and wanted more information. “How do you know this? And why is Amberdrake’s mark so important? He hadn’t even appeared yet when the empire fell.”
Jah’Moke looked closely at the lieutenant. “Amberdrake is Dandarshandrake’s successor as the most powerful of dragons. To honor one is to honor both.”
Lieutenant Norstrand stroked his short beard, surprised that the Latté were conscious of history at all. “I would like to speak with you further on this matter, if I may. I’m something of an amateur historian, but I’ve never heard that there were any survivors of the Imperial times.”
Cah’Fene brightened at that. “I am apprentice to Jee’Lara, the Keeper of History,” he said eagerly. “I would be most honored to share with you what little I have learned.”
Java and Jah’Moke shared a slight smile as Cah’Fene and Emin formed a sudden interest in one another. Java directed them north to the city of Blackburn, county seat of Blackburn County. It was only an hour’s ride, and Cah’Fene and Emin did not stop talking even once. It was only as they neared the city that Emin resumed his post as Java’s chief escort, riding ahead to announce her. The Guards at the city gates all knelt as Java rode by, honoring their princess and future duke. The Sergeant of the Guard led them to the manor and presented them to Lord Selvin.
“Princess Jav
a, Mother sent a message that you might drop in. Please, be welcome,” Selvin said as he bowed, waving his guests in to his family home. “Have you seen The Burn, Princess?”
Java smiled and nodded. “Yes, we went there first. Lord Selvin, I am pleased to present my betrothed, Jah’Moke Cawfy, and his younger brother, Cah’Fene. Cah’Fene is an apprentice historian and was most interested to see the place where Amberdrake left his mark on the land.”
“An apprentice historian? You have to talk to father. His hobby is genealogy. Come, you must meet the rest.” Selvin led them to the library where a number of people waited. “Princess, I’m pleased to introduce my beloved wife, Sharon. My brother, Eldric, and his wife, Gennifer. And I believe you know Elise,” he said, smiling at his baby sister. She was staring at Cah’Fene with wide eyes, much to her brothers’ amusement.
Java nodded to each, then introduced Jah’Moke and Cah’Fene. The young nobles all knew who Jah’Moke was and were honored to meet their future duke. Cah’Fene was greeted in a much more subdued manner by all except Elise. She was obviously attracted to him, and immediately latched on to his arm, volunteering to be his escort. Jah’Moke spoke softly in Latté, telling Cah’Fene to treat her like the Carr’Bon’s daughter. That ensured he would not cause an incident and would also do his best to prevent her from doing anything unfortunate. For his part, Selvin was frowning at his sister, warning her without words to behave. Not that he had much hope that she would obey him, but he had to try.
“Princess, Jah’Moke, Cah’Fene, we are all pleased to meet you,” Selvin continued, glancing at Elise.
Lady Gennifer smiled deeply and stepped forward to take Java’s arm. “Princess, I’m so pleased to finally meet you. Lord Emver was quite taken with you, and his stories have made us all curious. Tell me, what is Duchess Samantha like?” Lady Sharon had joined her sister-in-law at Java’s side, looking at her with wide, curious eyes. Elise was looking back and forth between Java and Cah’Fene, but finally joined the women.
Jah’Moke guided Cah’Fene over to where the men were standing by the fire. “Well, Lord Jah’Moke, this is a pleasant surprise. And yes, before you say it, I know that you’re not formally a lord,” Selvin said, forestalling Jah’Moke’s almost patented denial of nobility. “It doesn’t matter. You will be the duke, so get used to it.”
“We are not inclined toward much formality, Jah’Moke. I’m sure you’ve noticed that about Father in court,” Eldric added, smiling at Jah’Moke and Cah’Fene’s expressions. “Cah’Fene, be careful with Elise. She’s at an awkward age where she can be too easily hurt.”
Cah’Fene bowed, unsure what to say. Jah’Moke came to his rescue. “We understand. Cah’Fene will treat her like the daughter of our chief. Courteously and cautiously. We also have sisters,” he said, smiling at the nods of the lords.
“Well enough. Jah’Moke, you’re the first Latté I’ve ever met. I must confess to being very curious about you and your tribe,” Eldric said, glancing back and forth between the brothers.
* * *
Java glanced over at the men and smiled. Jah’Moke had come so very far in such a short time. He was at ease with the young lords and was dealing with them as equals. Quite a feat for a man who had hardly been able to speak to a lord six months before. Elise touched her arm to bring her back to their conversation. “Java, you said that Duchess Samantha will be at your wedding. Will you introduce me to her then? Please?”
Java smiled and laughed. “Of course. I think you’ll like Sam. She was a lot like you when we found her.” That statement forced Java to retell the story of finding Samantha once again. Elise was scandalized by her description of Sam’s disguise.
“She was dressed as one of Frander’s men? In boy’s clothes? And she had to bind her breasts?” Elise asked, shocked by the idea of a duchess dressing as a man. “That’s horrible!”
Sharon rolled her eyes to the sky and sighed. “Not horrible, Elise. Just inconvenient. You’ve never worn pants, but I have. They aren’t so bad once you get used to them.” Leaning closer, she whispered, “The princess is wearing pants, you twit!” harshly into Elise’s ear.
Elise’s eyes grew very large as she realized that Java was indeed wearing pants. “Princess, forgive me. I did not mean to be insulting,” she said in a very small voice.
“I took no insult, Elise. When you are older, you may find that pants can be quite comfortable. But they can be inconvenient, as Sharon pointed out.”
“Princess, why are you wearing that uniform? I understood that you were no longer a member of the Firewalkers,” Lady Gennifer asked, drawing a nod from Sharon.
“I’m not, but Captain Rivers gave me permission to continue to wear it if I chose to. As to why, these,” she gestured to her bandoleer and knives, “and this dirk have saved my life a number of times. Wearing them reminds any would-be attackers that I’m not an easy target. Jah’Moke has a similar uniform. Cah’Fene is also armed, though we asked him to put his weapons away while we are visiting.”
“He’s a fighter, too?” Elise asked, looking at Cah’Fene’s back with wonder and adoration that made the elder women cover their mouths to keep from laughing. Elise caught them at it and stomped off, angry at them for laughing at her.
“Gods, I’m glad I’m not fourteen anymore!” Sharon laughed as soon as Elise was out of hearing. “She’s being whipped back and forth so fast, and she has no idea why.”
“Well, Cah’Fene is safe enough. He won’t do anything and won’t let her do anything either. Honor among the Latté is very restrictive,” Java said, smiling at Jah’Moke where he stood talking to the lords.
“How so, Java?” Sharon asked, and Gennifer added her nod.
“Back when we first met, there was an incident that ended up with Jah’Moke and his patrol staying the night in our camp. The women with me paired off with his men, and Jah’Moke and I went to my tent. But he couldn’t make love to me because he hadn’t made a kill with his knife and wasn’t yet counted as a man among his people.” This was a definite surprise to the ladies.
“He turned you down?” Gennifer asked, but Java shook her head.
Java smiled sadly and shook her head as she looked at the floor. “It was mutual. The timing was wrong for a lot of reasons. The point is, even if I had been willing and eager, he wouldn’t have made love to me because his honor prevented it.”
“Strange,” Gennifer mused. “Very strange.”
CHAPTER 8: WINTERHAVEN
Never tweak a dragon’s nose.
Ancient Wisdom
ROBIN AND MARLIN TRAVELED IN STYLE when they left Whitehall. Marlin’s carriage belonged to his family, and the coachman and servants were their employees, so they took it rather than horses. Robin didn’t mind. The carriage was much more comfortable than riding Spice for long distances. It also gave them time to be alone.
“I love you,” Marlin said on a soft voice as they rumbled along the road toward Winterhaven. He had his arm around her as she cuddled into his side.
“I love you as well,” Robin murmured back. Then she chuckled. “My friends all say it is usually the woman who says it first.”
That made Marlin grunt. “They must not be as special as you. I have felt it for a long time now. I just, Robin, I want you to know. I want you to understand that I’m really in love with you. Not your title or your power. You. All of you behind that.”
Robin snuggled closer and sighed. “You and I are meant to be together, Marlin.”
The trip was going to take twenty-three days. Robin was openly amazed by some of the things she saw. And disgusted by others. In the town of Bly, on the very south edge of Link County, they stopped for the night at the only inn. An emaciated young girl came out and looked at them with wide, frightened eyes.
“Welcome to the Bly Inn, noble travelers,” she said in a timid tone as she bowed.
The coachman said, “My master requires a room for the night,” in a haughty tone.
The girl bobbed what might
be called a curtsey and scampered into the inn. A woman soon came out. She was as skeletally thin as the child and appeared to have a smudge on her face. Then Robin realized it was a bruise.
“What is going on here?” a man bellowed as he joined her. “Get back to work!” He aimed a kick at the woman that struck her in the calf. She stifled a cry of pain and stumbled away while the man turned toward the carriage.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
Before Marlin or the coachman could answer, Robin snarled, “I am Lady Mage Robin Cartwright. Who is the mayor of this pesthole?”
Another voice came from behind her, shouting, “I am, and you’ll watch your tongue, or I’ll rip it out!”
Robin turned and raised a finger, and the mayor found himself being dragged through the dirt and manure of the road to her feet. “I am Master Mage Robin Cartwright of Whitehall. Princess Java has given me ministerial authority in her county. Why do you allow this fool to abuse the woman and child who work for him?”
“You have no authority! I control Bly. Lord Darby appointed me himself!” Robin glared at the man, and the expression on her face made Marlin step back. I though only Java got that mad.
“Is there anyone of rank in this town?” Robin demanded.
“I am!” the mayor shouted.
Robin shook her head. “Lord Darby died years ago, and Princess Java was given Link County.”
“It doesn’t matter!” the innkeeper shouted. “Dar was mayor before, so he’s mayor now.”
“And them ain’t his employees,” the mayor said. “They’s just sluts from Lender’s Dale he took in.”
Robin went still for an instant. “Did you send their information to Linkville for the refugee census?”
“For what?” the innkeeper demanded. “They ain’t good for nothing but bed-warmers.”
This time it was Marlin who acted impulsively, and the innkeeper was suddenly kneeling at his feet while something tightened around his throat. He growled, “You will address Lady Robin with respect, or you’ll answer to me.”
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