Shalador's Lady bj-8
Page 46
Yes, this would change a lot of things, and he wondered how Theran and Kermilla were going to respond when they found out.
CHAPTER 43
TERREILLE
Theran stared at the document Archerr had delivered a few minutes ago.
Hikaeda said he wouldn’t have to wait long for an answer from the Warlord Princes who lived in the Province that bordered the Heartsblood River. He just hadn’t been prepared for this answer.
Cassidy now held the leash for twelve more Warlord Princes—including Ferall. Mother Night, she had Ferall on top of Talon and Ranon. Only a fool would stand on a killing field against those three.
And she had Jared Blaed, who had become a formidable, dominant male, even if he didn’t wear the Jewels or have the power he might have had.
Now Cassidy controlled the land and income from another Province. The Warlord Princes and Queens just gave it to her. Didn’t they have any loyalty to their own land, their own heritage?
“Theran?”
He’d left the study door open. It seemed insulting to have Kermilla scratching on the door like a servant asking for admittance. Especially today. Besides, he’d already tucked the correspondence away in a locked drawer in his desk.
He held out the document.
She read it, her brow furrowing.
“What does this mean?” she asked, handing it back to him.
“It means Cassidy holds Ferall’s leash.”
“Well, good riddance. He was a crude man. I didn’t like him.”
“He’s an Opal-Jeweled Warlord Prince. I’ve seen what he’s done on a killing field. He’s no Lucivar Yaslana, but even so he was feared—and with good reason.”
“Oh.”
No real comprehension. He heard that truth in her voice, saw it in her eyes. “And it means that Cassidy now rules half of what used to be Dena Nehele.”
That she understood, and those pretty blue eyes blazed with anger.
“You have to stop this, Theran. You have to get the court formed and stop this.”
Hadn’t he been trying for months to introduce her to the other Warlord Princes and give her a chance to shine? It wasn’t his fault she’d pissed off Ferall and some of the others. But she kept snapping at him because her position was still so tenuous, or she sulked over his tight control of the purse, or pouted over some real—or imagined—insult from Julien. Or wanted sex, which was becoming less and less appealing because there seemed to be less and less heart in the act.
Sometimes he wanted to shout at her to stop being a stupid, selfish girl and start being the Queen he knew she could be.
And yet, despite his growing frustration and anger with her, she still felt so right, and he knew if she could have a little more time to mature, she would be the Queen Dena Nehele so desperately needed.
She was right about one thing: every day that slipped away without a court forming around her made Dena Nehele more vulnerable—and made Cassidy, and her court, look better.
Over the next few days, Theran felt like a man bleeding to death from a wound he couldn’t find.
Thinking that any court was better than no court, and figuring Kermilla wouldn’t object since she considered these Blood acceptable companions socially, he’d gone to visit the aristo families in Grayhaven—and discovered they had all left town on business of one kind or another. The servants couldn’t tell him where the families had gone, couldn’t tell him when they would return.
The message was clear enough: The men were afraid he would require them to serve in Kermilla’s court, so they had removed themselves from his reach.
When he went to talk to the Warlord Princes living in his own Province, they stared at him with bleak eyes and offered nothing.
And with each day and each failure, Kermilla became shriller and more demanding.
He sent another summons to the Warlord Princes in the remaining Provinces, demanding that they present themselves to Kermilla for consideration in her court.
This time, no one answered.
CHAPTER 44
TERREILLE
Ignoring her yip of protest, Gray bundled Cassidy into her winter coat and hustled her to the kitchen door.
“Put your boots on,” he said. “There’s something I want to show you.”
Well, she needed a break from the paperwork anyway, and he looked like he could be as stubborn as a Sceltie about showing her whatever this was.
When they were outside, Cassidy lifted her face to the sun. “Not one word about my needing a hat. Not today when the air has that first scent of spring.”
“Wasn’t going to say a thing.” Taking her hand, he led her to the sitting area under the tree.
“Oh!” Delight filled her. “Oh, Gray! Look!”
He grinned. “The first blooms of spring.”
Sturdy little flowers poked up through the snow, purple and yellow and white. Similar to one of the spring flowers in Dharo, but not quite the same. The kind of flower Gray called common ground.
“Bulbs?” Cassie asked.
“Yep. There are a couple more varieties planted around the tree, but they’ll bloom later in the spring.”
“A couple—” Wondering how he knew that since the court hadn’t been here last spring, she turned to look at him—and saw something in his eyes that left her breathless. “These weren’t here last spring, were they?”
He shook his head. “I planted them this past fall. Wanted it to be a surprise.”
You’re the surprise. “Thank you.”
A choice. A chance.
“Gray?”
“Cassie?”
“Could you consider marrying me?”
No expression on his face. Blank eyes. Then, hesitantly, “Really? You’re not teasing me?”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t tease about that. I love you when you’re Gray and when you’re Jared Blaed. I want to build a life with you that spans the seasons.”
“You’re in love with me?” His eyes looked a little less blank, but she wasn’t sure his brain was fully working.
“Yes, I’m in love with you.”
“Cassie.”
He kissed her with enough heat to sizzle through her body and melt bone. Then he wrapped his arms around her and held on.
“I fell in love with you the first time I met you,” he said. “That’s what gave me the courage to wake up and grow up. So that I could be with you.” He eased back enough to look at her. “You’re going to buy me a wedding ring, right?”
Happy tears stung her eyes. She laughed. “Yes, I’m going to buy you a traditional ring.”
“Come on,” Gray said. “Let’s—”
*Gray? Cassie?*
Vae trotted up to them. She wagged a greeting, then stared at both of them.
*Cassie is crying, and you are happy,* she told Gray, her words accompanied by a growl. *Why?*
“I’m happy too,” Cassie said, wiping tears off her face. “Gray and I are going to get married.”
“Do you know about human marriage?” Gray asked.
*I know.* The growling stopped and the tail wagged with more enthusiasm. *Is this a secret?*
Gray laughed. “No, it’s not a secret.”
Vae lifted her muzzle and howled. A few moments later, Khollie howled from the other side of the stone fence. A few moments after that, Lloyd and Kief joined in. Then Darcy. Then Keely.
They heard another faint howl coming from the direction of Eyota’s main street.
“Hell’s fire,” Gray said. “They’ll tell the whole village before we have time to get back to the house.”
“Then we’d better hurry.”
Laughing, they ran back to the house, stomped snow off their boots, and smacked into Ranon and Shaddo, who were heading outside to find out what had stirred up the dogs.
By the time the First Circle gathered in the court’s parlor and Dryden opened bottles of sparkling wine for the first of many celebrations, everyone who lived with or worked near a Sceltie had hea
rd the news about Prince Jared Blaed and Lady Cassidy.
EBON ASKAVI
Daemon walked into one of the sitting rooms. Lucivar came in a step behind him and immediately swung to the left to give them both working room. Their father stood by a window, looking out and smiling an odd little smile.
“Where is Gray?” Daemon asked. “You said he needed to talk to us.”
“Is he outside making mulch?” Lucivar asked.
“He’s outside,” Saetan replied. “And once in a while he stops grinning and remembers what he’s supposed to do with the piece of wood he’s holding.”
Daemon looked at Lucivar, who shrugged.
*I’m not picking up any temper,* Lucivar said on an Ebon-gray spear thread.
*Neither am I,* Daemon replied. But what his psychic probe was picking up from the boy was damn peculiar.
“Don’t give him a hard time,” Saetan warned as he rapped on the window. “The only reason I chucked him out there was because he insisted that he wanted to wait until he could tell all three of us the news, and he’s so bouncy it was exhausting to be in the same room with him.”
“Ah.” Daemon smiled.
A minute later, still dressed in his heavy coat and holding a piece of wood, Gray bounced into the room.
*He’s spending too much time with Vae,* Lucivar said.
Daemon stifled a laugh.
“Hi!” Gray said.
Looking at those bright green eyes and sensing the almost skin-bursting excitement, Daemon didn’t need to hear the words to know the news. But he kept his expression politely interested—and noticed that Saetan was wearing the same expression.
Lucivar shook his head and said, “Give me that.”
“What?” Gray looked at the chunk of wood Lucivar took from him and vanished. “Oh.” Then he just grinned at all of them.
“Okay, brainless,” Lucivar said. “Use words.”
“Lucivar,” Saetan groaned quietly.
“I’m getting married. To Cassie. And she’s getting married to me. It happened yesterday. Not the getting married part. The asking part.”
“Congratulations, Gray,” Daemon said.
“That’s wonderful news,” Saetan said. “And worthy of a celebration.”
Lucivar stared at Gray until the weight of that stare quieted some of the excitement in the young Warlord Prince.
“So,” he finally said. “You’ve decided to live right up to the line.”
“Yes,” Gray replied. “I did. I am.”
“Good for you, Gray,” Lucivar smiled. “Good for you.”
Draca entered the room, followed by a servant who brought in a tray filled with food and another servant who brought bottles of sparkling wine and glasses.
When told the news, the Keep’s Seneschal offered her congratulations and left. Daemon opened a bottle of wine and poured while Lucivar handed out the glasses.
After the first toast, Daemon set his glass aside and called in two small jeweler’s boxes. “Here, Gray. I had a feeling you were going to need these someday, and it looks like that day has come.”
Gray set his own glass down and opened the first box. “A man’s traditional marriage ring. Do you think it will fit me?”
Daemon chuckled as Gray admired the plain gold band. “Darling, I know it will fit you. Remember our trip to Amdarh for some of the Winsol shopping? Remember going to Banard’s?”
Gray nodded. “Surreal wanted to buy a ring for Rainier, and I tried some on so you could see how they fit.” He frowned. “Which actually made no sense, but at the time, it sounded like it made sense.”
*What sort of spell did you wrap around him when you did that?* Saetan said.
*Nothing much,* Daemon replied. *And it wasn’t around him, it was around my voice.*
*Ah.* “Except for a court ring or a marriage ring, the only ring a man usually wears is his Jewels,” Saetan said.
“Oh.” Gray narrowed his eyes at Daemon. “It was a trick?”
“A small deception,” Daemon replied. “But with that little ruse, you obligingly provided Banard with your ring size. And then there is this.” He flipped the other box open and held it out.
“Mother Night,” Gray whispered.
When Gray just stood there, staring, Daemon tipped the box so Saetan could see the ring.
“That’s lovely,” Saetan said. “And it suits Cassie.”
It did suit Cassidy. Amber in three colors, set in a clean design of gold.
“I can’t afford that ring,” Gray said.
“The two rings are a wedding gift from the SaDiablo family,” Daemon said. “A gift to a Queen we admire—and to a Warlord Prince who has had the courage to live up to his potential. I hope you’ll accept them.”
*I trust you have no objections to the gift?* he asked Lucivar and Saetan.
*None,* they replied.
Gray took the box that held Cassie’s wedding ring. “Thank you.”
“Come on, boyo,” Daemon said. “Let’s sit down, have something to eat, and you can tell us every detail about your marriage proposal.” He and Lucivar and Saetan all laughed at Gray’s expression. “All right. Not every detail.”
CHAPTER 45
TERREILLE
There was nothing Theran could do. The more he tried to hold on to the land his family had guarded and cherished for so long, the more of it fell away.
Two weeks after the Heartsblood River Province deserted Dena Nehele and gave itself to Cassidy, one of the northern Provinces that bordered the Tamanara Mountains became part of Shalador Nehele. A week after that, the other Province that bordered the mountains turned away from its heritage.
Only four Provinces left. A land that had held for centuries had been reduced to a third of its size within the space of a couple of months. Kermilla was almost hysterical in her demands that he do something, and he tried. But nothing worked.
Nothing.
When the news about the second mountain Province reached him, he didn’t summon the Warlord Princes living in the four remaining Provinces.
This time, they summoned him.
They met in an old barn next to an abandoned farmhouse. A familiar kind of gathering place, Theran thought as he slipped inside. During the years when these men had fought against the twisted Queens, they couldn’t gather at an inn without coming to the attention of the Queens’ guards and they wouldn’t gather at anyone’s home and put that man’s family at risk.
He knew their names, but it was understood that no names were spoken at this kind of meeting. Foolish, really, when there were so few of them left they all knew one another, but that caution had been too well trained into them.
“Prince.” A Purple Dusk Warlord Prince stepped forward. “I’ve been asked to be the voice of my Brothers.”
Theran tipped his head to acknowledge the man—and to acknowledge that these men had gathered for a discussion at least once without him. “I’m listening.”
“The day after I reached my majority and my training was declared complete, I walked onto my first killing field. I’ve been fighting for Dena Nehele in one way or another ever since. I guess that’s true for all of us here.”
The other twenty-six Warlord Princes nodded.
Only twenty-eight of us to guard four Provinces, Theran thought. How in the name of Hell are we going to do that?
“I’ve fought for Dena Nehele,” the Warlord Prince said. “My father and my grandfather and his father before him all fought and bled and died for Dena Nehele. And as much as we respect Ranon and Jared Blaed, we want to live in Dena Nehele. The Queens in our Provinces feel the same. We don’t want Dena Nehele to become nothing more than a memory.”
Thank the Darkness. “Then come back to Grayhaven with me. Meet with Lady Kermilla. Help me form a court so that—”
“No.” The Warlord Prince took a step back. “We’ll protect Dena Nehele. We’ll defend the Blood against the landens, and we’ll fight to keep our Provinces safe from outside attack. But none of us w
ill serve Kermilla.”
Theran’s temper flared hot. “You’ve never given her a chance. She’s young, and she doesn’t have as much experience as she thinks she has, but she’s not an evil woman or a bad Queen. Befriending Correne was a mistake, and I know the girl’s influence on Kermilla’s behavior left a bad taste in a few men’s mouths, but—”
“Theran.”
The breach of etiquette shocked him cold.
“We’ve heard words like this before, Theran. Heard them from good men who couldn’t see the blood on their Queens’ hands or tried to justify brutality because they couldn’t live with the truth.”
Theran said nothing.
“We won’t serve her, and we won’t stand by and let her become Queen of what is left of our land. We serve Dena Nehele, and we’re willing to let the Grayhaven line stand as the ruler. But not her. Never her. If we have to meet you on a killing field and end the Grayhaven line to make sure she doesn’t become Queen, then that is what we will do.”
He didn’t want to believe the words, but he couldn’t doubt what he saw in their eyes. If he helped Kermilla set up a court, they would kill him—and then they would kill her.
“She gave up everything to stay here and be our Queen,” he said, desperate to make them understand.
“I doubt she gave up anything, but you believe what you choose. It’s clear enough she’s your Queen; that doesn’t make her ours.” The Warlord Prince sighed. “Two weeks, Prince. She’s safe from us for two more weeks. After that, we’ll come hunting.”
They flowed around him, predators heading back to the territories they claimed as their own.
Theran stood there, alone, long after the last man had caught the Winds.
Where was the promise of a new life, a better life? Where was the hope? There had been hope a year ago, hadn’t there? Gone now. All gone. He didn’t know how to fix it, any of it.
And he didn’t know what he was going to say to Kermilla.
CHAPTER 46
TERREILLE