The Duke's Handmaid (Book 1 of the Ascendancy Trilogy)

by Caprice Hokstad

  Vahn dried the container carefully before attempting to open it, not wanting to risk ink smudging. timna arrived with the tea. He had her leave the entire pot. The weight of the cylinder gave him the feeling he would be up all night. He had timna fetch some extra lamp oil then kissed her forehead and sent her to bed. He barred the door behind her.

  Long fingers loosened the wax around the seam. Oddly, the royal sigil was imprinted in the outer wax. Only Arx would place his signet to wax that was going to be handled. Vahn mumbled a few sardonic remarks about his brother. At least everything was dry. The vessel was filled with parchments bearing tiny writing. The topmost piece was in larger script. Vahn recognized the handwriting and read it first.

  To the ever arrogant Duke Vahn,

  Just because I don’t bring you up on charges for that letter doesn’t mean I can’t or won’t. You’re my brother, but you’ve also made it quite clear you’re my enemy. Do not think me a fool, Vahn. I had nothing to do with Father’s death. I have worked night and day to find his killers and I will never rest until they are caught and punished. I do not owe you any proof of this. If you start a civil war, it is for your own self-serving purposes, not to avenge our father.

  However, since I have nothing to hide, I have decided to allow your lieutenant access to all the records concerning Father’s death. You can understand that I would not let him take the originals.

  You will find that every member of Father’s scouting party was carefully accounted for and scrupulously identified. Your attempts to lay blame on a betrayer are nothing but the petty yippings of an untrained dog. I pity Saerula and your soon to be born pup. I hope for the sake of the pup you learn to do something besides howl at the moons.

  King Arx Rebono

  Royal Sovereign of Latoph

  Vahn had to laugh at the dog analogy. He had invited derision purposely to gain answers to a few questions. This was more than he’d dreamed he would get. He smiled and gulped at the tea, then dove into the parchments with excitement. No wonder it had taken Windrider so long to return. He had to have been copying documents for several days, and there was a considerable journey between Occi and Ny, over which he had obviously pushed himself. Throughout the night, Vahn pored over the many pages. When he finished the tea, he tiptoed out to make more.

  On his way to the kitchen, he passed Windrider snoring softly on the couch. Vahn added wood to the iron stove and set a kettle atop. timna appeared, bleary-eyed and dressed in sleeping gown and robe. “timna is sorry, Master Vahn. She thought Lord Windrider might need help,” she whispered.

  “Nothing to be sorry for, timna. Thank you for being so attentive to our guest.”

  timna nodded groggily. “Is there anything timna can do for you, Master Vahn?”

  “No, thank you. I’m sorry I woke you.” Vahn sat at a small table in the corner while he waited for the water to heat. timna followed him, set her hands to his neck, and massaged the knotted sinews. Vahn moaned softly at her ministrations. His head lolled from side to side under skilled fingers. If he had been less intent on reading the records in his study, he might have succumbed to her pampering and fallen asleep on the spot.

  The kettle whistled. Vahn tore himself away from the comfort of timna’s all-too-tempting therapy. “timna, I can’t tell you how good that felt. Thank you. You probably won’t find me in bed in the morning. I’ll be in the study. Come knock in case I fall asleep, will you?” He caressed her cheek as he spoke.

  “Yes, Master Vahn. timna will,” she whispered. “And you’re welcome.” Barely holding her eyes open, timna shuffled back to the slave quarters.

  Vahn returned to his study, armed with more tea. He read through all the records several times, then studied a few documents in detail. He’d been so sure body identification was the key. Father and his men had been killed by arrows and bolts from crossbows. The killers had not taken time to burn, maim, or otherwise obscure the victims’ features. Each body had been identified by no fewer than three of the royal staff, men Vahn knew were trustworthy.

  He recognized the names of most of the dead. It had never struck him before that so many men had died in the incident. Everyone had focused on Father’s assassination and Arx’s coronation. These who gave their lives were forgotten. Vahn stopped to write condolences to the families of his father’s honored vassals. He was nearly positive Arx would never have done it, but even if he had, Vahn wanted the families to know that he also cared.

  Two of the dead had no surviving relatives. One was Dauntere, an Itzi only two years older than he and Arx. He had been an orphan slave to the Royal Palace, working in the stables from the age of 13 until 16. When his bands were removed, he opted to stay as a servant. He spent all his free time with the knights and learned what he could from them.

  More than the words of his mother, Dauntere had taught him that Itzi were good people. Vahn had lost touch when he married and moved to Ny. According to the records, Dauntere had become a squire just before dying in King Brendax’s service.

  The other familyless man was Elva. Jeahn Vernass was unfamiliar. He had been hired six months before Vahn left Occi, three years before the fateful day. His record showed little distinction, either good or bad. Apparently, he had been the bellwether of the group, having been familiar with the surrounding countryside. Vahn sighed. The first to die and the first forgotten.

  Vahn scrawled a note to himself to ask Arx whether he had memorialized Father’s men. Vahn had yet to have someone die in his service, but he knew his father had never taken lightly a single life lost in his name or for the kingdom. If Arx had done nothing, Vahn would have their names carved in Rebono Keep until the day when he had control over Occi.

  When Calla and Cana pierced the darkness with morning’s first rays, Vahn locked away the records in the stone lamp table. He finished sealing condolence letters with his signet as a knock sounded at the door. He got up, unbarred the door, and looked down to find timna kneeling. “Thank you for remembering, timna. I’m nearly finished. Please see to Lord Windrider’s needs. I have some more errands for him when he is rested. Be certain we have a large breakfast.”

  timna bit her lip. “Do you remember what day it is, Master Vahn?”

  He frowned. “Oh, my. I forgot. It’s Queen’s Jubilee. You and the other girls take the day off. Have dena and pippa report to me so I can remove their bands. Thank you for reminding me.” Though not a law, it was customary for heads of households to serve their slaves and servants on Queen’s Jubilee. Even the peasants who did not have the role-reversal to enjoy would close their shops and celebrate with feasting and merry-making. It was a popular national holiday.

  “timna would like to help with the meal if it pleases you, Master.”

  Vahn considered her offer. Saerula never took to the spirit of the holiday, even before the pregnancy. He was tired and they had the lieutenant to consider. The freed slaves’ families would likely come calling as well. “I accept on three conditions, timna.” He didn’t have to bargain with her, but he actually enjoyed the holiday when he had the foresight to get a proper night’s sleep. “First, you will not help me; you will be in charge and I will help you. Second, I will return the massage favor after the meal, and lastly, you will sleep in tomorrow. How’s that?”

  “It is more than generous, thank you, Master.”

  They prepared the meal with little trouble. Jallor arrived to pick up Saerula’s breakfast, as was his normal routine. The food was ready, but a tray hadn’t yet been prepared.

  “Where are the rest of the slaves?” he growled at timna.

  “Most of them are still asleep,” timna answered.

  “Asleep? The lazy cows. The duke shall hear about this. Get me a tray immediately.”

  Vahn popped out of the pantry. “Watch your tone with timna. I can assure you the duke already knows what his slaves are doing. Furthermore, the duke fully condoned their actions.”

  Jallor’s brows shot up. He stared at Vahn, mouth agape, seemingly unab
le to reconcile his presence in the kitchen.

  “Today is Queen’s Jubilee, and all of my slaves are excused from their regular duties. timna helped me of her own accord. If she hadn’t, then Saerula’s breakfast probably wouldn’t be ready. But all the food is cooked, so you can get your own tray and fill it. Oh, and it is Saerula’s decision as to your disposition today. It would be a shame for you to miss all the festivities.”

  Jallor grabbed a tray, filled it in silence, and hurried upstairs. Vahn barely suppressed a laugh. Saerula would have mentioned the holiday sooner if she were going to practice the customs.

  Though it was probably better suited for the number who needed to eat, Vahn had rarely used his dining hall and felt it would be too impersonal, so he exchanged the circular table in the parlor with a larger rectangular one. Windrider sat at the head, with the female slaves around him. Sixteen-year-old Denally (the former dena) sat in the duchess’ normal place, beaming without her bands and chattering about her plans. Nineteen-year-old Pippa sat next to her, anxiously watching the door.

  An Itzi woman arrived and asked for her daughter. Denally ran into her mother’s arms and both wept in the foyer, kissing and embracing. The woman thanked the duke for his hospitality, but refused his invitation to join the meal and left hastily with her newly-freed daughter.

  After breakfast, Vahn gave timna her massage, silently removing her neck band to facilitate. He hadn’t had the heart to replace the Ringed band on her neck after she’d gone with him to the ITC. She still wore Ringed bands on her ankles and wrists, but her neck was encircled in silver bearing his name. After fifteen minutes, he replaced the silver band. She thanked him profusely.

  Windrider, fed and redressed in his own clean clothes, bowed his head to take leave.

  “Thank you for your transcription and for pressing the ride home,” Vahn said. “My theory was disproved, but that’s hardly your fault. I have another errand for you.”

  Windrider’s eyes grew large, but he said nothing.

  “Not today,” Vahn said quickly. “Go celebrate with your family. Tomorrow, you can ride to deliver these for me.” He handed him the condolence letters with instructions on where to find the bereaved.

  “Thank you, your highness, on behalf of my family and my hind end.”

  Vahn chuckled and exchanged a knight’s handshake with his lieutenant. Windrider departed.

  No one had come for Pippa. Her brows furrowed with the pain of being forgotten even as she paced.

  “Lady Pippa, do you have anywhere to go?” Vahn asked softly.

  She thought a while, then nodded. “Mother said she would try to arrange a compact for pip—me. It doesn’t appear she succeeded. She’s probably too ill to come for me. I should go home and take care of her.”

  Vahn tried to swallow his disappointment she had other plans, however dismal. “May I arrange an escort or a ride home?”

  “No, thank you. It’s not far.” Both her voice and her gaze were faraway.

  “Please let me know if I can help,” Vahn said. He wondered what had become of the gold he’d paid for three years of service, but he didn’t pry.

  “Thank you, your highness.” Pippa dipped her head to her former master, then started to hug the others when a knock sounded. Her eyes lit up with hope.

  Vahn found a young blond male with round ears waiting on his porch. The Itzi bowed. “I’m looking for Pippa. Is she—”

  Pippa surged past the duke and threw her arms around his neck. “Konor, I can’t believe you waited for me,” she said with tears and a smile.

  “I take it you approve the compact then?” Konor grinned.

  She answered him with kisses. Vahn turned aside to give them some privacy. Pippa darted back in to finish her goodbyes. While she was inside, Vahn pressed five gold coins into Konor’s hand as he whispered, “You are not to mention this to your mate. Think of it as a dowry...” He hesitated, wondering if Itzi even practiced dowries since they didn’t marry. “...or a compacting gift.”

  The young man stared at the coins in disbelief, then nodded as he shoved them into a belt pouch. “Thank you, your highness,” he whispered back. Pippa returned and the two left, arm in arm.

  The house staff headed into town to enjoy the festivities. As soon as Rebono Keep was deserted save for Saerula and her two servants, Vahn retired to the master chambers for a much-needed nap. Though he had made it to sleep, his tired body got no rest before he heard beating at his chamber door.

  “Your highness! Duke Vahn! Wake up!” Jallor shouted, pounding loudly.

  Vahn growled as he tumbled from the bed. This had better be good. Duchess’ majordomo or not, he was going to fire the fool if it wasn’t. “What do you think you are doing?” he snarled as he opened the door in mid-pound, setting Jallor off-balance.

  “The duchess is in labor, your highness. She asked me to come get you and send for the midwife.”

  Vahn was sorry it had been a good enough reason. He would forever believe his wife purposely waited for the only day in the entire year when every member of his staff would be gone. Furthermore, she probably timed Jallor’s errand until he had just reached the level of sleep where waking would make him ill-tempered. “Very well, where is she now?” he asked, too tired to think straight.

  “Her sitting room.”

  Wearing only silk drawstring shorts, he dashed down the hall to the sitting room. He found his wife crying on the chaise, her broken water all over. “Jallor, get her wet clothes off and help her into bed. Have that assistant of yours fetch some towels and get the cradle ready. I’m going for the midwife.” Saerula moaned and whimpered. Vahn cupped her cheek in his hand, kissed her, promised to hurry, and jogged back to the bedroom to change.

  A few minutes later, he ran out the door. With no stable hands around, he had to get a horse himself. The guards were surprised to see him charging out. “The duchess is in labor. Pass the news as you can,” he called as he flew through the gates.

  Of all the days to look for a midwife, this had to be the worst. No one was home and the crowds were no help in locating the midwife he named. He finally asked his subjects to pass the word through the clogged streets that the duchess needed a midwife. Happy at the news, the people spread his request. Vahn rode where he could, leaving the same message with several different crowds. When he could no longer get around the throngs of celebrators to any other part of the city, he headed home, hoping he had done enough. Though he hated the idea, he would have to wait.

  At the gate to Rebono Keep, he found Pharn Patkus. Vahn hoped the healer would placate the duchess until a midwife arrived. He hoisted Patkus up for the short ride from the gate to the front of the keep. They abandoned the horse to find her own way to the stables, while he and the healer rushed upstairs.

  Saerula was in bed, crying and screaming. Jallor and his assistant had done what he asked, then left her alone. Vahn was rather relieved they didn’t care to be in the room. He excused them to go to the festivities. They wasted no time accepting his generosity.

  Vahn spoke softly to his wife. “Saerula, love, everyone is out celebrating today. The people are passing the word to find a midwife, but Lord Patkus is a healer. He can watch you until a midwife arrives.”

  Saerula whimpered incoherently, cursing the “stupid Latoph holiday”, womanhood, and her own father. It was the first time Vahn perceived she had been forced to marry against her will.

  Labor was long and trying. Patkus gave her some kinchoo herbs to dull the pain. Vahn held her hand and swabbed her forehead. timna knocked at the chamber door. She had heard the news in the streets and rushed back. To Vahn’s surprise, Saerula pushed him away in favor of timna.

  Feeling dejected and helpless, Vahn slipped out and descended the stairs. He found three more of his female slaves home, having heard as timna did and feeling they should return. He thanked them for their concern but explained there was nothing they could do. None of them felt like returning to the festivities.

  Vahn
was seriously considering dozing off in a chair when a knock sounded. lopi answered the door and found a short, round-eared, wrinkly-faced woman with flaming red hair.

  “Did someone call fer a midwife?” the aged Itzi asked.

  He hadn’t thought to insure the midwife was Elva. Saerula will balk, but she is hardly in any position to refuse. “Yes, I did,” Vahn said in a commanding voice. “Thank you for coming.” He motioned the woman in.

  She bowed to him and heeded his motion, hobbling in. “Yer welcome, yer ’ighness. It be me priv’lege ta bring a new prince or princess inta the world,” she said with a wrinkled smile.

  Vahn took her arm and helped her up the stairs. “I have to warn you that the duchess is prejudiced against Itzi. She may not allow you to stay if an Elva midwife arrives. You will be compensated even if she refuses your help and I apologize in advance for her rudeness,” he said as the two made their way slowly up the stairs.

  “Pshaw. ’Tis yer right ta another midwife. But ifn nay other one comes, I tell ye, override ’er, m’lord. ’Tis yer babe too. Dunnay be lettin’ a labor-crazed female ta be decidin’ things what could mean the life or death o’ the wee one.”

  Vahn laughed. He had the feeling this Itzi would not take any gruff from Saerula. Besides, the duchess had already surprised him by wanting timna to hold her hand. The elderly midwife walked without aid once they finished climbing stairs. They arrived at the door to the master chambers. Vahn knocked before entering. “I brought a midwife, Saerula,” he announced before the door completely opened. It was apparent that she noticed the breed of the midwife, but other than a poison-filled look to her husband, she gave no reaction.

  “No men,” Saerula insisted.

  The old midwife nodded in agreement to Saerula’s order. “Best ye menfolk not see the monster she’ll become,” she muttered.

  Patkus retreated willingly. He nudged Vahn to accompany him. Vahn complied, but reluctantly. He offered to pay Patkus, but the healer refused to accept, and requested permission to stay, just in case. Vahn was happy to accommodate his request.