The Road of Kings: A Strong Woman in the Middle Ages (A Medieval Tale Book 8)

by Lina J. Potter

  Instead of ambushing him, mercenaries tried to make a run for it, fighting only as a last resort.

  Should he have finished them off?

  Frankly, he probably should have...or should he? Jerisson was Ativernan; it wasn't his job to worry about Wellster, since it didn't concern his plans. A small confusion on the roads of Wellster wasn't a problem for his country. No big deal!

  Lort shouldn't get too comfortable. Jess didn't mind helping, but he'd rather work in Cardin, wait for His Highness Edwin's coronation, and take Richard's bride home to Ativerna, where he could retire to the castle of Teral that had already become home to him.

  Jess missed Laveri, his home, the Virmans swarming around all day, the work-outs and friendly clashes with Eric and Leif, Lilian, sitting behind her desk in the study and biting at her pencil, writing something, Tahir, always appearing out of nowhere, like a living shadow...even the damnable mongooses!

  Let them sleep on his pillow and bite as much as they would; he didn't mind that!

  Home, sweet home...

  Fine.

  At least Lily and Mirrie were under guard by Her Majesty's side. In several days, they could move to the capital.

  As for the time being, he wanted to rest his bones in a hot bath, followed by a hearty meal and spiced wine. Sleep would come next, hopefully, ten hours of it.

  Alas, that was not to be. A servant quickly prepared a bath and a meal, but also told him that Count Lort wished to see His Grace, as well as Marquis Losan.

  Jess sighed and requested clean clothes, any clean clothes—his own were so dusty and reeked bad enough to scare horses.

  So, where would he start? With Count Lort, of course.

  ***

  He found Altres Lort in the king's study. Still awake, he was scrolling through documents and reading them. He made notes, laid some of the papers aside, but was nonetheless glad to see Jerisson.

  "Sit down...Jess?"

  "Altres?"

  Jerisson accepted a more familial form of address without any internal resistance. Honestly, if not for Lort, he and his family would have been gone for good.

  "How's Cardin?"

  "The mercenaries are scattering. We're tying up those we can catch and sending them to jail. After that, I think it's the mines for them...depending on the regent's opinion, of course."

  A wolfish grin appeared on Altres' face.

  "We’ll see. There are never enough hands in the salt mines."

  Jess didn't feel sorry for the mercenaries.

  "Otherwise, it's quiet."

  "Can you keep patrolling the city until the coronation, at least?"

  "I can. Will Edwin ascend the throne as the eldest son?"

  "Yes."

  "And you're the regent, right?"

  "I am."

  "Is our arrangement still in force?"

  "Princess Maria will go to Ativerna and take a treaty of friendship with her."

  "And an agreement to reduce the trade tariffs?" Jerisson seized the opportunity.

  Altres shrugged. Friendship or no friendship, pockets were a different matter.

  "We’ll see. You must realize that Alcine didn't care much for our coffers."

  "Is he still alive?"

  "I should feel insulted by that question. He won't die for a long time," Lort sneered.

  "Have you found out why he started all of that?"

  Altres frowned.

  "Yes. It was the first thing we learned. Gardwig's second wife was Alcine's lover. They wanted to get married, but the king saw her, and her parents couldn't refuse him."

  "And Alcine was left with nothing but his love?"

  "It was mutual. Anna's mother...remember her?"

  A pang of pain shot up in Jerisson's stomach. It was hard to forget something like that.

  "Yes, it was her. She was executed for adultery, but they thought that Alcine's older brother was the culprit."

  "And it turned out to be the younger one?"

  "Robert couldn't forgive Gardwig her death."

  "For almost twenty years? Is he mad?"

  Altres shook his head. His head was hurting, but he had no time to relax.

  "And like many madmen, he's clever and cunning."

  Jess didn't argue. Worse things had happened. Would he avenge Mirrie? Yes. Lily? Absolutely!

  He didn't know Anna's mother, but there was an arrow for every bird, and one woman for each man, a woman who was worth killing for. He could understand Alcine. He didn't want to, but he could.

  "And Albitta? She was—"

  "Just Albitta. It's the way she is."

  "She didn't even care about her daughters?"

  Altres shook his head.

  "Oh, no. She'd stop at nothing for her revenge. Thank your wife that she didn't get her claws on Milia and the boys."

  Jess nodded.

  "Lily didn't do it for a reward."

  "It doesn't mean I can't be grateful. I recognize all previous agreements with Ativerna. I'll take a look at what else can be done. You must understand, all of this came crashing down on me..."

  Jess nodded.

  He had seen Edward rule the country, knew whom to talk to, but...

  Aldonai forbid he'd ever get the crown himself!

  Jerisson had no wish to rule; his own position was enough for him.

  Poor Richard had all of that ahead of him.

  Jess would help him, but he would never accept such a burden. Not everyone was fit to walk the road of kings. Altres, however, would have to set foot on it.

  Until Edwin's coming of age, he would be king, no matter what it was called. He would rule, punish and spare, be in charge of everything, make difficult decisions, raise the little princes...

  "A drink?" Altres offered.

  "Just a bit. I'm afraid I fall down on the stop."

  "Me too. Cheers, then...to friendship."

  "To friendship."

  The men silently emptied the glasses. A lot had been said, but even more was left out.

  Jess didn't pity Count Lort, but he got him as one man can get the other. He felt sympathy. That was something else.

  ***

  "Altres Lort asks you to come to the capital as soon as possible."

  Lily raised her eyebrows.

  "What’s wrong? "

  Although that was a stupid question; she knew it already.

  Someone had to take the throne; the country needed a king, whether good or bad, or else, it would be all confusion and mayhem, and Wellster had been through too much as it was.

  Gardwig was dead. Albitta had taken the throne—without an official coronation yet—but the people were worried. Thankfully, the world didn't have Internet or mass media; otherwise, it would be absolute chaos.

  In the backwater villages, peasants might not even learn of the king's death, nothing to worry about.

  Even if they did, it would take half a year, just in time for spring.

  Spring meant sowing crops and working the land.

  King or no king, everybody needed food. The farmers wouldn't care about politics then; they wouldn't rebel for the "legitimate" king.

  Edwin would be crowned with Altres Lort as his regent.

  "Altres writes that Edwin needs to be shown to the people and crowned."

  "I suppose we'll need to arrange a fancier procession then," Lily mused.

  "Of course. Show me off, the children..."

  Lily smiled with the corner of her mouth.

  Milia was still a queen. Even if she had spent most of her time behind her husband's back, she did manage to pick up some skills.

  "I think we'll need two carriages: one open, to have a triumphant ride across the capital's streets, and one closed with a couch inside. You still need rest, lots of it, and to avoid being shaken too much or getting a cold. We'll only change into the first carriage when we reach Cardin."

  Milia slowly nodded.

  "There should be carriages here..."

  "I'll go find us a carpenter. They should be
done with it by tomorrow."

  "The day after tomorrow would be better," Milia decided. "I won't go tomorrow, better to wait."

  She still remembered, too well, her pain, helplessness, and fear.

  Milia wasn't afraid of death. Gardwig was there in Aldonai's abode; he would wait for her and support her. It wasn't scary. But leaving her children alone?

  Failing them and her husband? That was a true nightmare.

  But fate had sent her Lilian Earton. Milia didn't want to take any more risks.

  Lily winked at her and left.

  She needed to find a carpenter.

  So how were carriages designed?

  Each one was a box on wheels with two seats inside. They were wide and comfortable, but that wasn't nearly enough. She needed to turn the entire inside of the carriage into a couch and also think about leaf springs. Lily remembered her own rides. Milia and the children definitely shouldn't suffer as much.

  Fine.

  She knew what she needed, Milia would give orders, and the Virmans behind Lily's back would add weight to her argument. Everything would be in order.

  ***

  An hour later, Lily wasn't as sure of that. There was no carpenter in the palace. Not a soul!

  Nobody really needed one, ever. There were servants and maids to clean up before Their Majesties' arrival, guards, but no carpenter. Where would she find one?

  In the nearest village, of course.

  Lily nodded to her thoughts and went to see Chantaine's deputy, Leir Loran.

  To his credit, she didn't need to spend too long explaining things. He agreed to send men to the village and help in redesigning the carriages. Really, why argue when Her Majesty made her wish clear?

  A carpenter? He'd find as many as three of them if need be!

  ***

  Altres Lort gave the aldon a gentle smile.

  Peters kept changing his coloring from red to pale and overall didn't look his best at all. Altres didn't mind. Even if the aldon dropped dead in front of him, why would he care?

  He wouldn't. As if there wouldn't be a horde of people wishing to take that place!

  They might not even wait until the funeral!

  "Peters," the count said in a soft drawling tone.

  "Lort," Peters tried to match it. It didn't work quite as well; his voice was lower and will weaker. Altres stayed untouched by his attempts.

  "I see you've taken ill, Peters?"

  If not for Altres' tone, it might have sounded like sympathy. But his voice said different: vicious, mocking, poisonous.

  "Yes, I'm not feeling well," the aldon replied, pretending not to notice.

  "So what ails you?"

  "Arthritis..."

  "How awful! Well, I could recommend a good healer. Would you like that?"

  Peters wouldn’t, going by the huge beads of sweat on his forehead. But it wasn't really an offer.

  Altres Lort was still smiling.

  "You don't want a healer? What about joyous news?"

  "Joyous?"

  "They say that happiness is the best cure."

  Peters sincerely doubted that, but Altres wasn't interested in his opinion. He already knew about certain events and truly loathed turncoats. Who didn’t, though? People bought them, used them, but never loved them.

  "Soon, you'll perform a coronation."

  "A c-coronation?"

  "Of the lawful king, Edwin."

  Peters breathed out.

  "He's alive?"

  "All of the children of Her Majesty are."

  Altres considered that just. Gardwig was no aldon and had made a lot of blunders in his life, but his children weren't guilty of anything.

  "I'll pray to Aldonai! What a happy occasion!"

  "You should pray twice," Altres said.

  "Twice?"

  "If you crowned the pretender..."

  "T-then?" Peters sweated even more, although it wasn't hot in the room, as fall had already taken over.

  "You must realize that such a coronation couldn't be legitimate, and neither could be its performance."

  Peters realized the implication.

  He would have been either killed or declared insane and killed later, depending on circumstances.

  "I was forced!"

  "Were you tortured? Branded?"

  "Alcine threatened me! Count, he's a horrible man!"

  "Worse than me?"

  Peters hissed.

  "When you have a blade against your throat, it doesn't matter whose hand is holding it."

  "Then it shouldn't surprise you when one blade is replaced by another," Altres Lort replied in tune. "In several days...is everything prepared for the coronation?"

  Peters almost started nodding but realized that such an answer would expose him even more.

  "W-well...I'll get it ready quickly, Your Grace."

  "Do that, Peters. It's important for me, Wellster, and you as its loyal citizen."

  Peters breathed out.

  Yes, he could count himself lucky if that was the extent of it. It wasn't, though; Altres wasn't going to let anyone go unpunished.

  "If the coronation goes through in a suitable manner, we'll discuss your fate."

  "My fate?"

  "What's the punishment in Wellster for taking part in a coup?"

  "But I didn't!"

  "You've hosted an insurgent. Their leader, actually."

  "So? A lot of people did!"

  "Don't go pointing fingers, Peters. Worry about your own skin. Everyone will get their share," Lort purred. "You think I'll get tired?"

  Peters could only dream of it, or even of Aldonai's wrath.

  If only a lightning bolt shot down from the heavens and hit the deplorable jester! But alas, that wasn't going to happen. Aldonai wasn't listening to his faithful servant.

  "I'm sure you won't get tired, Your Grace," Peters said reluctantly.

  Altres slowly closed his eyes.

  "Let's have a serious talk, Bright One. I know that you supported Alcine, but I'm willing to forget everything on certain terms. The coronation must go without a hitch. That's first. I also need your complete support on all of my undertakings. That's second."

  "And that's it?"

  "I only want the best for Wellster."

  "And if your concept of good becomes different from Her Majesty's, for instance?"

  "Then I'll find common ground with the queen, while you continue to support me."

  His words were strong. Peters had a clear understanding of what he was offered.

  Yes, you're a wretch and a bastard, Altres's eyes told him. But you're my wretch. And if you want to keep your place, you'll have to listen and obey me. You give an inch here, you give an inch there, and the game is over. It's the gallows for you.

  What else could the poor aldon do? Only lower his head.

  "I'm sure everything you'll do will benefit Wellster."

  Altres smiled, showing that they reached an understanding. Then he threw in a carrot.

  "His Majesty Gardwig didn't...treat the Temple especially nicely lately. But this is one of the pillars of the kingdom. Its foundation..."

  "Absolutely!"

  "I think we should build a few more temples. We'll discuss it later in more detail." Altres smiled.

  Peters relaxed a bit.

  Well then.

  He would retain his position. Altres would work with him, and Peters himself would do everything in his power to oblige.

  Even Lort could be agreed with. But what would happen afterward? Who could say?

  All men were mortal...maybe King Edwin would prove to be a softer man than his father? Time would tell.

  Peters personally saw the count out, smiling and inviting him to come back.

  Altres Lort walked through the temple, sat into the carriage, and even gave a friendly wave of a hand.

  He only dropped his guard after lowering the leather curtain.

  Scum.

  Aldonai, what a scumbag is serving you!

&
nbsp; How can you permit that?

  The aldon was a corrupt cowardly wretch, but Altres had no choice. The kingdom was already on shaky ground; he couldn't remove anyone, or he risked a rebellion.

  He would have to work with what he had.

  But Altres was already used to digging through trash. He would succeed, and Peters would do his best, too. Later, of course, he would start plotting, but by that time, Altres would find a way to keep him in line. He might get caught stealing or ruin something...there would always be a reason to tan his hide or even poison him discreetly.

  But how I want to choke this wretch right here and right now!

  Peters would never learn how close he was to death at that moment.

  ***

  That wasn't something that Jerisson had ever expected to see, but as it turned out, Aldonai had a wicked sense of humor.

  When he returned into the chambers assigned to him, his first thought was that he had drunk too much; the second, that he had bumped his head somewhere. He shook it a few times, but the vision didn't dissipate. A gorgeous naked woman in his bed held out her hands to him.

  "My love..."

  Her voice... Her face... It was Adelaide Wells: Jerisson couldn't confuse his former mistress with anyone else.

  "Dellie? What are you doing here?"

  Adelaide frowned. Before, in a situation like that, the count would always join her in bed to jump-start sweet insanity that she so lacked in her marriage. Stable boys and other rabble were nothing, only fit to sate her hunger for five minutes. Jess was a full-course meal.

  She thought of him often, and about his wife, too, although with different feelings. She longed for the count but hated the countess.

  "Haven't they told you that I live in Wellster?"

  Jerisson tossed his head again. The alcohol had worn off, and he realized that he wouldn't be able to avoid a fight. Nope, no chance.

  Still, sleeping with her was completely out of the question.

  "Nobody told me anything. Have you come for the engagement?"

  "I wanted to see you. Jess, I missed you so much..."

  Adelaide leaned forward, her shoulders bare...once, Jerisson would have put his arms around her and never let go until the morning. Not anymore.

  What had broken inside him? Or was it the other way round? Had it finally fallen into place?