‘On such a scale,’ she agreed.
‘Ah.’ He paused to consider. ‘We heard a rumour last autumn that you had fallen into Fratton’s hands.’
‘Rumours seldom prove reliable.’
Nolan acknowledged her small evasion with a smile.
Margetta, she noticed, had barely picked at her meal. ‘Lady Margetta, are you well?’
Margetta coloured. ‘I — I am not hungry, my lady. If I might be excused, I think I would be of more use in the hall.’
‘As you proved throughout the siege. Emett, could you escort Lady Margetta?’ Chairs scraped across the stones. ‘And Captain Galyn, we have already absorbed too much of your time. Please take my good wishes to your wife and new daughter.’
He sent her a grateful smile. To Risha’s relief, their departures hastened the evening to a close.
Harl lingered after the others had gone. ‘Puffed-up little cockerel,’ he muttered. ‘I’d happily deflate his airbag with the prick of my sword.’
‘I’ve probably made an enemy where I needn’t — I’ll have to salve his ego tomorrow.’
Harl growled. ‘You’ll note he didn’t disembark until the town was secure. He’s as weak as old man’s piss, if you’ll pardon the expression.’
‘And as sour,’ a voice added from the shadows.
Risha scowled as Timon stepped into view. ‘Did you creep about thus in Havre?’
‘Whenever I could,’ he acknowledged, unperturbed by her tone. ‘It was of use in discovering where the power really lies, which is not with Feron. The man’s a peacock rather than a cockerel. As long as he has his comforts, he’ll survive the wounding to his pomposity.’
‘It’s a nuisance we could do without. We’ve enough to deal with in LeMarc.’
‘You’ve done all right so far,’ Harl told her.
Timon made mock of a courtier’s bow, but his intent expression reminded her there was a conversation overdue between them. She sighed. ‘Timon, I’ll collapse if I don’t get some sleep. But we should talk in the morning.’
‘I would welcome it, my lady.’ For once, he sounded completely genuine.
When Risha woke, the sun was already well up in the sky. She lay a moment, listening to the silence. Lyse had been in — there was water in the ewer and fresh clothes had been laid out. There would be a hundred things to do. Her first task would be to check on Cantrel and the wounded in the hall. After that she would inspect the damage to the citadel, find Nolan, talk to Feron. With her list of tasks expanding she hurried downstairs, regretting the cumbersome skirt of the dress Lyse had chosen. Geet had been right: trousers were easier for all manner of activities.
Emett was helping clear rubble, and worse, from the collapsed stables. The stench was overpowering. ‘How’s your arm?’ she asked.
‘It’ll heal. Have you seen Cantrel?’
She nodded. A bleak silence settled between them. Risha looked away around the courtyard. Amid the debris there were small but growing piles of neatly stacked stone. ‘There’s so much to do.’
He nodded. ‘Most of the townspeople have gone to see what’s left of their homes.’
She felt weighted by the tasks ahead, but there was only one way to achieve them. ‘Is Galyn about?’
‘He’s taken a troop to scour the coast, in case Westlaw’s stragglers see fishing boats as their best chance for quitting LeMarc.’
She gnawed her lip. With her thoughts focused on the citadel, she hadn’t considered the outlying villages. ‘Will there be many stragglers, do you think?’
‘A few hundred at most.’
Risha turned at the sound of Nolan’s voice. ‘And not all will make for the coast. Some will see the hill country to the north as their best chance.’
‘With our men away, LeMarc’s villages and farms will be vulnerable.’
‘I took the liberty of sending two of my units north under the direction of your Sergeant Palt.’
‘Thank you.’ She felt a sudden, pressing need to escape the citadel’s walls. ‘Have you a few minutes, Captain Nolan? I was thinking, earlier, about Westlaw’s trebuchet. If it could be moved to the northern breakwater, it would provide the harbour with more protection.’
He considered. ‘It should be possible. Would you like me to take a look?’
‘I’ll come with you.’ The rhythmic thud of boulders still echoed in her head.
Nolan summoned half a dozen soldiers and they jogged quickly through the barbican, its stones still stained dark, and scrambled past the rubble of the fallen gatehouse wall.
‘We wouldn’t have wanted to arrive any later,’ Nolan muttered, as they reached the road beyond.
‘Agreed.’
He looked as if he might say more, then shook his head.
The sun was warm. The trebuchet was positioned on a flat-topped hill overlooking the road. ‘They knew what they were about,’ Nolan conceded as he inspected the construction and anchoring. ‘Must have been a struggle getting it up here, but the height would have given them extra reach. It’s heavy; bullocks would be the easiest way to move it.’
‘If any have survived the cookfires of Westlaw’s army. Re-siting it is not a priority, but I would like it moved from here.’
They stared back towards the citadel. ‘Feels a bit intimidating,’ he agreed. ‘I’ve been thinking, my lady: Bruer is hoping to sail for Havre as soon as he may — this fair weather won’t last, not this late in the season — but it strikes me you could use a bit of help. I could ask for volunteers to stay on for a few weeks.’
Risha thought of the tasks ahead: not only the gatehouse and damaged outer walls of the citadel but half the town needed rebuilding, and there would be any number of smaller jobs. It was a generous offer — but there were logistics to consider. ‘Thank you, Captain. I don’t deny we need help, but … let me check our food reserves first.’ They had the winter to get through, in the hinterland as well as within the citadel.
‘Havre’s Council wouldn’t be left short by the donation of a shipload of grain and other supplies. Between Bruer and myself we should be able to …’ He paused, eyes narrowed. She followed his gaze. There were horsemen approaching along the road.
Risha climbed onto the trebuchet’s platform to gain a clearer view. There were at least a dozen riders, coming on at speed. As she watched they veered from the road.
Barking an order, Nolan caught her by the waist and swung her down. ‘Out of sight, my lady.’
Setting their backs to the trebuchet, the soldiers formed a defensive line in front of her, swords ready.
The leading horseman’s mount was lunging up the slope, blowing hard. The riders, mud-spattered and bearded, looked like brigands. Sunlight flashed off a blade.
Nolan’s men were outnumbered but, surely, this close to the citadel … She craned to see the gates. No one had seen — wait. A handful of men had appeared. She turned back. The riders were seconds away. She stared.
‘My lady!’ Nolan made a grab for her shoulder as she darted past.
‘Peace, Captain.’
The oncoming horse sank on its haunches as its rider reined in and flung himself to the ground. ‘Risha!’ He gripped her arm. ‘You’re all right?’ His eyes flicked to Nolan and back. The other horses split and milled around them.
‘Muir.’ She couldn’t contain her smile.
‘We heard the citadel was under attack.’
She could see the energy coursing through him. ‘And you thought to rescue me with a dozen men?’
‘From the road it looked … one of them laid hands on you. I thought …’ He blew out a breath. ‘The siege is broken?’
She nodded, half-turning. ‘Muir, this is Captain Nolan of Havre. Captain, my father’s retainer, Muir.’ The men eyed one another. Muir abruptly sheathed his sword. Behind her she felt Nolan’s men relax.
‘Havre reached us yesterday — in truth, it feels a week ago, and closer to a year since you left. It’s good to see you,’ she added. ‘How is Donnel?’
‘He was well when we left, though wearied of the siege.’ He studied the trebuchet and the battered citadel beyond. ‘A rider brought us word that you were under attack. If it had been anyone other than it was, Donnel might have suspected a trick. You recall the blacksmith in Tummel, Kelan?’ Muir’s eyes held hers a moment, but she couldn’t read their message.
She nodded.
‘He sent his son; a lad of ten. They’d heard news of the siege from farmsteaders running north. The boy rode day and night to reach us. He crossed the Othar near the marsh or he might have warned them at Othbridge.’
Muir wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. ‘We came as fast as we could.’
By the state of their horses, she believed it. ‘Did you meet our courier on the road?’
He shook his head. ‘Some Westlarn troops this morning. They slowed us a little.’
The bandage one man wore was suddenly explained. ‘How many?’ Nolan asked.
Muir glanced at him. ‘Around thirty, in a hurry. We didn’t ask them for news.’
A small silence opened. Muir turned to Nolan. ‘You were prepared to stand against us in her defence. I thank you for it.’
Nolan shrugged. ‘If the lady hadn’t recognised you, you may not have.’
Muir grinned wolfishly. Nolan matched his smile. Watching them, Risha doubted she’d ever understand men. A few minutes ago they’d been ready to kill one another, and now …
There was a cheer from the road. Risha turned. Seargeant Hent was leading a dozen guardsmen up the hill at a jog. Moments later they were immersed in a wave of questions and back-slapping. Muir’s horse, quivering with exhaustion, stood with its head hanging between its splayed knees. Risha stroked its lathered neck. ‘Come on,’ she muttered. ‘Let’s get you rubbed down.’
Bit chinking beneath her hand, she led the horse back towards the road, leaving the men to decide whether they’d follow or not.
Risha found no shortage of boys willing to trade carting rubble for caring for the hard-used horses, Lyse’s brother Eon among them. The survivors from the second rescue boat had returned with the troops who took the trebuchet, and Eon had been lauding it over his peers ever since.
‘They’ll have to make do with chaff,’ Risha told him, ‘even though they deserve better.’
In the courtyard the returned guardsmen were engaged in a fresh round of greetings. Her eyes sought Muir, but he seemed involved in half a dozen conversations at once.
Margetta touched her sleeve. ‘Is it news from Fratton?’
‘It might be, when they’ve finished congratulating one another on their battles.’ Risha felt immediately contrite for her carping tone. ‘How are your patients?’
Muir found them in the makeshift ward. ‘Lady Margetta, my greetings.’ His eyes ran along the line of pallets. ‘Your summer has proven more eventful than any of us could have foreseen.’
The girl nodded.
‘Margetta is hoping for news of Fratton,’ Risha said.
‘There’s little enough. Somoran still controls the guard, and Donnel is content to wait rather than waste more lives. I’m sorry I can’t bring you better news,’ Muir added, as the girl dipped her head. ‘But it will come.’
He turned to Risha. ‘How is Cantrel?’
‘Yet to regain consciousness. Fretha is with him; she’s scarcely left his side since the siege broke.’
‘I’ll go to see him once I’ve changed.’
‘Get some rest first.’ Shadows lay dark beneath his eyes, the skin stretched taut across his cheeks. ‘You must have ridden hard to reach us so soon — any harder and you’d have killed that horse.’
‘Even so, it seems we came too late.’
‘If you’d come any earlier you’d have found Westlaw’s army between you and the citadel.’
Muir rubbed a hand around the back of his neck. ‘News was thin on the road. We changed horses at Othbridge, and stopped in Tummel to assure Kelan his son was safe, but no one could tell us what was happening. There was no word of Havre.’
Risha glanced at the suffering men around them. ‘I wasn’t sure they’d come. If they hadn’t …’
His hand lifted then fell at his side, the fingers convulsing into a fist. There seemed so much to say but no way to begin. She touched his arm. ‘Get some sleep, Muir. All else can wait.’
‘My lady.’
As he turned she called after. ‘Join us later for a meal.’
Risha frowned at the plain dress Lyse had laid out. ‘What else do I have?’
‘The blue is stained and the floral too worn—’
‘Where’s the one Fretha prefers, with the embroidered panels on the bodice?’
Lyse’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. Once she had the dress on, Risha smoothed her hands down her waist.
‘It fits you better than it did. You’ve filled out,’ Lyse observed.
Risha stared at herself critically in the glass. ‘My hair’s a mess.’
‘I’ll plait it.’
‘No. Perhaps … Could you put it up somehow?’ She lifted a handful. ‘So it won’t look so dried out.’
Lyse smiled a little and took Risha’s hair in her hands. ‘If it’s Councillor Feron you’re hoping to impress I daresay the dress will suffice — it shows off your figure and brings out the colour in your eyes.’ She paused, fingers busy curling and pinning. ‘Though perhaps it’s that handsome Captain Nolan you have in mind.’
Risha said nothing.
‘Men like to talk about themselves,’ Lyse said, ‘so you should ask as many questions as you can, and make sure you seem to be paying attention to the answers; that always pleases them. And they like it especially when you laugh at their jokes.’
For some reason Risha thought of Ira.
Lyse adjusted a curl, changed her mind and reshaped it. ‘Men like to believe they’re the centre of the world. It costs nothing to let them think it true.’
She finished fiddling with Risha’s hair and turned her to the mirror. ‘There. How’s that?’
Risha stared at her reflection. The young woman who stared back looked nothing like her at all. Lyse dipped her fingers in a pot and touched something to the corners of Risha’s eyes. ‘Or perhaps it’s someone else who interests you?’
‘It isn’t anyone.’ Risha frowned, and the girl in the mirror seemed suddenly more familiar. ‘I just …’
Lyse smoothed the frown with her fingertip. ‘You look perfect,’ she decreed. ‘As long as you remember to smile.’
The panels of the dress felt uncomfortably stiff as Risha hurried down the stairs. She was late, and it seemed frivolous, suddenly, to be worrying about her appearance with so much else to attend to. ‘Lyse—’
‘Go on,’ the girl hissed. Risha’s palms felt damp.
Conversation stilled as she entered, chairs scraping back from the table. Her eyes skimmed the room, heart thudding against her ribcage. They were all staring at her. Emett’s mouth hung open. He snapped it shut as she smiled at him. Nolan smiled back. The look on Muir’s face was indecipherable.
‘I’m sorry to have kept you all waiting.’ She crossed to Donnel’s chair, relieved not to have tripped on the heavy skirts or had her hair tumble from its ornate twirls. Feron gawped at her from Cantrel’s place. She favoured him with a smile. ‘Please, sit.’
They obliged. Her gaze settled on her captain of guard. ‘Did you meet any trouble today, Captain Galyn?’
He adjusted his face into a less bemused expression. ‘Nothing we weren’t expecting, my lady. I’ve left a patrol to keep an eye on things. They’ll check further north tomorrow.’
She nodded. ‘And the ships in the harbour, Commander Bruer: I trust they’re all secure?’
‘Both ours and Westlaw’s — those of them left.’ He glanced across the table at Muir. ‘You’ve heard the tale?’
Muir shook his head and the battle with Westlaw’s fleet was recounted. Feron shifted impatiently.
Risha turned to him. ‘Councillor Fero
n, I had intended to speak with you earlier, but events precluded.’ His eyes reminded her of a ferret. ‘I’m sorry if I was abrupt yesterday.’ She smiled. ‘In truth, I’m hoping you’ll be prepared to share a little of your knowledge while you’re with us. Tell me, does Havre have a system, like Elion’s, to monitor the goods that flow in and out of the port?’
The little man relaxed a fraction. As he waxed lyrical on goods recording systems and trade tariffs, Risha decided she would be wary of applying Lyse’s advice too widely. Timon finally took pity on her, steering the conversation his way.
As she turned, her eyes grazed Muir’s. His flickered quickly away. Nolan spoke.
‘You’ve barely eaten, my lady. Perhaps you’re weary of a siege diet?’
She looked at her plate. ‘Just plain weary, I think, Captain.’
He smiled. ‘I’m not surprised.’ She studied him, recalling Lyse’s assertion. It was true that he had an appealing face. His hazel eyes were wide-spaced, while his nose— ‘My lady?’
She’d been staring, her thoughts adrift. She quelled a blush. ‘I … Did you ever meet my mother, Captain Nolan?’
He shook his head. ‘I was just a lad when she married Lord Donnel. I remember talk of the match and there are paintings which—’
‘Of my mother?’ Risha leant towards him. ‘I … never imagined that.’
‘There are several; quite good likenesses, I’m told.’
She gazed at him avidly. ‘I don’t remember her — at least, only a very little, and even then I’m not really sure.’
‘With your hair up like that, the resemblance is quite startling. You’ll see for yourself when you come to Havre.’
Her smile faded. Nolan bent close, lowering his voice. ‘There is no hurry, my lady. Havre will wait.’
She flashed him a quick grateful smile.
When she glanced around the table Muir met her eyes before turning, unsmiling, away. Drawing a breath she turned to Bruer. ‘Commander, Captain Nolan tells me you plan to sail for Havre as soon as you may. Welcome as you are in LeMarc, there will be many waiting for news of their men.’
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