Lady of the Haven (Empire Princess Book 1)

by Graham Diamond

  “The two of you must have been very close,” he said.

  Nigel looked at him curiously. “Close?’ he repeated, as if the word were new to him. “Yes, we were close. I don’t know if you can understand this, but we were almost, well, almost like brothers. But that was a very long time ago, Commander, before Stacy was even born — and I daresay before you were, either. Hector was the bravest, most clever wolf I’ve ever known. I could tell you stories about him — but never mind. I guess they really wouldn’t make much of a difference, anyway...” His words trailed off into a whisper.

  Trevor looked totally bewildered.

  Gwen noticed and smiled softly. “I don’t suppose any of this is easy for you to understand.”

  “No, my lady.” He smiled back gratefully.

  “But my husband is prouder of his accomplishments with Hector than of anything else he’s ever done. It was Hector who first brought friendship between us and wolves — and he did it at a time when the easier and safer course would have been to fight against us.”

  “The Forest Wars,” said Trevor, with a touch of awe in his voice.

  Gwen nodded. “No doubt you’re too young to remember them.”

  “They concluded three years before I was born, my lady. But every schoolboy has read the story.”

  Nigel gave a short, curt laugh. “Hector and I lived the story, my young friend. It was a bloody period in our history, and in many ways if it weren’t for the wolves, our Empire probably wouldn’t exist. We’d be no more than Stone Age hunters eking out a bare subsistence on what we could find or steal, and with a frightened eye ever on the forest. But we won that war and the Empire flourishes, all the way from the Valley to the Newfoundland Sea. And you can thank the wolves for that, Commander. Most of all, you can thank Hector.”

  “I didn’t know,” whispered Trevor. “Forgive me if I seemed cynical, but I really didn’t know.”

  For a long moment there was a stillness in the room, broken only by the soft chirping of a hummingbird perched in the hickory tree outside in the garden.

  “I see I have a lot to learn about wolves,” said Trevor thoughtfully. “Perhaps when I get to Newfoundland.”

  Stacy laughed. “An unweaned whelp like you? Why, those Newland wolves’ll chew your ears off.”

  “Stacy!” cried Gwen with a glare. “That’s no way to speak. I’m sure Trevor would be gracious enough to forgive you — if you apologized.” She looked at her daughter with smoldering eyes.

  And Stacy could tell by her mother’s tone that the apology was not just requested, it was demanded. She pressed her lips tightly together and glanced at the embarrassed young officer. “I was rude, Commander. I do apologize.”

  Trevor dismissed the thought with a wave of the hand. “And I was rude to you this morning,” he said. “Will you accept my apology for that?”

  Stacy grinned. “Certainly, Commander. Let’s call it even.”

  Not certain as to what they were referring, Nigel avoided the exchange entirely. Turning to Trevor, he said, “You know, Stacy has a point, though. Have you ever been to Newfoundland, Trevor?”

  The soldier shook his head. “This will be my first trip, Lord Nigel. And I don’t mind telling you I’m really quite eager. I have a brother at Deepwater I haven’t seen for, oh, must be about six years now.”

  “Well, you’ll find Deepwater and the other towns pleasant enough, I suppose, but the route you’re taking with Elias, across the rapids and downriver to Rhonnda, that’s really going to tax your energies. Newfoundland can be a rugged place, and you won’t find many comforts there like you have here in the Valley. Outlanders, those who live in the farms and settlements away from the towns, are a rough bunch of fellows. And you’re going to need a good guide.”

  “Ah, but you forget, my lord. We have one. Cicero, that wolf who came with Elias.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you about him myself, father,” Stacy said. “Where’s he from?”

  A glint came back into Nigel’s eyes as he recalled adventures long past. “Cicero’s a mountain wolf, Stacy. And they’re a breed like no others I ever knew. I met him for the first time two years ago when I went to Deepwater on Council business. Cicero’s a cagey devil. And clever as sin. Something of a brigand himself, I understand; but I’ll tell you one thing, if ever there was a wolf with a nose for getting out of trouble, it’s him.”

  Stacy’s mind began to click. Somehow things were falling almost perfectly into place. But now was not the time, she knew. Later perhaps, or even tomorrow. But not just yet.

  “And what’s his relationship with that riverman? Elias, is it?”

  Nigel chuckled. “Bless me if I know,” he said. “Elias is a Rhonnda man, and you know what they say about them. Close your eyes in front of one and your wallet’s gone — along with your teeth.”

  “I get the feeling you don’t trust him,” said Stacy wryly.

  “Don’t put words in my mouth. Elias is a good man and a fine mariner. But all these rivermen are adventurers. Why else would they be on the river? And if there’s a quick profit to turn, Elias won’t lose any time turning it. And that’s why Desmond was so intent on having someone from the Valley,” he glanced to Trevor, “someone we can trust to go along and make sure there are no games played with our timber.”

  “How long will you be gone, Commander?” asked Gwen, her chin in her hand.

  Trevor glanced at Nigel. “I’m afraid I can’t say, my lady. At first I thought I’d be home as soon as we got this matter of the hardwood squared away. Now it seems Lord Desmond has other duties in mind for me while I’m up there. I’ll probably find myself stationed in Rhonnda for at least a year.”

  “Oh?” said Stacy. And in her mind she said, Now! Tell them now! “Well, perhaps we’ll see each other. I hope to take the first caravan next spring to Deepwater and from there sail on one of those exciting ships up to Rhonnda-by-the-Sea.”

  “Then you must make a point of looking me up,” the soldier said happily. “It’ll be wonderful to have a friend from the Valley.” His smile turned sheepish. “I hope we can be friends?”

  “Yes, Commander, we can. And I will look you up.”

  The smile returned. Rising, he said, “But now I really must be going. I still have a great many orders to carry out and some bags to pack.” He turned graciously to Gwen and took her hand. “My lady, I want to thank you for a wonderful meal and a delightful evening.”

  Nigel stood at his place and shook Trevor’s hand firmly. “Good luck, Trevor. Keep your eyes open and be alert at all times. Don’t forget that you’re acting in the name of the Council. As far as Elias goes, you’re to make all the decisions, not he.”

  “I’ll remember, my lord. And thank you.” And with that he strode through the open doors. A few moments later Stacy heard his horse gallop off into the night.

  “A very nice young man,” said Gwen with a gleam in her eye. “Don’t you think?”

  Nigel sat back down in his chair and furrowed his brow. “Never mind that,” he rattled. “Now, Stacy, what’s all this business about going up to Newfoundland in the spring?”

  “I’ve been turning it over in my mind for a long time now, father,” replied Stacy. “And it’s time I tried to make a life for myself.”

  Somewhat aghast, Gwen said, “You think you can make a life up there? In that wilderness?”

  “Lorna and Simon did.”

  Nigel pursed his lips. “Your sister has a husband to take care of her.”

  “And you’re still a child!” snapped Gwen.

  Stacy’s eyes flashed. “I’m twenty, mother. I’m a woman. And I don’t need a man to take care of me.”

  “We know you don’t, Stacy,” said Nigel softly. “You’ve always been independent and free to come and go as you choose. But Newfoundland’s a long way from here, Stacy. And can you blame us if we’d be worried?”

  Stacy sighed and let the harshness of her feelings subside. “I have a reason for going, father,” she
answered. “I don’t want you to think that it’s just a girlish whim.”

  Nigel waved his hand. “Let me finish. I know you’re restless, even as I was until long past your age. That’s why I brought you to Hector back when you were just learning to walk. You’re a lucky young woman, Stacy. You’ve had the best of two very different worlds, and of that I’m proud. Few others can claim that distinction. And I understand the pains you’ve suffered because of the way you are. Men are crueler than Dwellers, I don’t have to tell you that, and I know about the nasty, snide things said about you behind your back. But Stacy, you can’t run away from it; you can’t stop being what you are. If you think that living a frontier life in Newfoundland will hide and shelter you from the pains you’ve had here, you’re wrong. You were right in one respect, Stacy. You are a woman. And we can’t stop you from doing what you feel you must. But the answers you seek won’t be found in Rhonnda, despite the glamour of adventure. Nor can they be found in the Valley or the forest. The wolves have a saying. ‘Avanoia’.”

  “Seek inside yourself,” whispered Stacy.

  Nigel nodded. “Exactly. Look inside yourself. That’s where the answers will be found. The only place they’ll be found.”

  Stacy got up, walked to the open window and stared out into the garden. It was filled with rosebushes on either side of the small walk. In the center of the walk was a tiny fountain used by birds, and Stacy paused to watch the hummingbird peck his beak ever so gently down into the water. “If you had told this to me a week ago, father,” she said, “I’d have said that everything you told me was true. I was planning to run away from myself, to hide in the wilds. I want something else in life — other than marrying some pompous noble and raising ugly children. No, I’m not saying that I won’t marry, only that first I have to feel fulfilled, feel a sense of accomplishment.”

  “You can, Stacy, right here at home. Believe me, you can.”

  “Please, father, now let me finish. I wasn’t going to discuss this with you now. I was hoping to wait until the right moment. But now that things are out in the open I’m going to tell you.”

  Nigel frowned. “Tell me what?”

  Stacy lowered her gaze to the tiled stone floor. “I have to speak with you alone,” she said. “Not as my father but as a member of the Council.”

  Nigel shot her a long questioning stare. Then he looked at Gwen and shrugged. “All right, Stacy, if that’s what you want. Let’s go to my study.”

  Nigel got up and walked to the dining-room doors, tall cumbersome doors, made of heavy oak that creaked ever so slightly when swung wide. Stacy passed through while Nigel kissed Gwen lightly on the cheek and said, “Don’t wait up for me. We might be quite some time.”

  And as Gwen watched, perplexed, the two of them walked slowly down the long hall to the study.

  Stacy stood impassively at the center of the room as Nigel struck a match and lit the small lamp atop his desk. Dark shadows immediately leaped across the walls and ceiling as the flame sputtered, grew large, then finally settled down into a low, steady glow. Nigel gestured to the round wicker chair opposite the desk.

  “Sit down,” he said, taking his own seat.

  The girl slumped comfortably into the chair, which had been bought from a Newfoundland merchant. Then Nigel leaned over the desk and clasped his hands together. “Now,” he said, “why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind — and why we need this secrecy from your mother.”

  Stacy crossed her legs, rested one arm on the back of the seat and toyed with her braids with the other. “There’s no secrecy,” she answered honestly, “but I was serious when I told you I wanted to speak with you alone, officially, as a member of the Council.”

  Nigel nodded and bit at his lip. “All right. I’m listening.”

  “Father, who sets the goals of the Empire?”

  Nigel looked at her oddly. “The Council, of course.”

  “And what are those goals?”

  “Look here, Stacy. You said you had something important to discuss with me. What’s all this for?” He shifted restlessly.

  Stacy frowned. “Please, father. Bear with me for just a few minutes. I need to clear up a few things in my mind before I tell you.”

  “Fair enough. But I’m afraid it would take a volume before I could enumerate all the goals the Council has set. Briefly, though, our first commitment is to the well-being of our citizens. To assure adequate shelter, food, schooling and trades for the children.”

  “And beyond that?”

  “Beyond that? To place our banners in the farthest reaches. To expand the Empire as wide as we can.”

  “To explore?”

  ‘If you want to put it that way, yes. The discovery of Newfoundland opened a whole new frontier for us, a world we didn’t even dream existed until thirty years ago, during the Forest Wars. And since that time we’ve used every resource at our command to ensure that Newfoundland is colonized and settled for the Empire. Thirty years ago we were locked into the Valley and surrounded by enemies in the forest. I don’t have to tell you that that’s all changed. Changed forever. Men have tasted the vastness of the world outside, and the goal of the Council is to bring as much of that world as we can under our banner.”

  “And when Newfoundland’s settled and properly colonized, what then?”

  Nigel leaned back in his chair and let his eyes glance to the flickering flame in the lamp. “To do what men have always dreamed, I suppose. To cross the sea.”

  Stacy felt her heart begin to race; she stayed calm and cool, though, and did not show the slightest emotion at what her father had said.

  “But that’s a long way off,” continued Nigel with a sigh. “Our knowledge of the sea is minimal — and that’s being kind. A voyage of that nature is fraught with risk. We’d have no proper course to set, no set goal to reach. It would be a matter of blind luck — if our ships didn’t sink or get blown away in some storm.”

  “But what about the rivermen? Surely they’d be willing to try.”

  Nigel shook his head. “The Council would never permit it, I’m afraid, even if some captain were foolhardy enough to volunteer. Empire ships are fine for the river, even for exploring the channels. But to cross the sea?” He left the words hanging and shook his head.

  “But once civilizations did cross the sea,” said Stacy, pressing the point.

  Nigel drummed his fingers on the desk. He knew his daughter well enough to know when she was trying to lead him somewhere. “Yes, Stacy,” he drawled, “once men did cross the sea in mighty sailing ships. In the days of the Old Time, when men lived all across the world. There once was an age of expansive travel, when men knew every continent, every island. Sadly that’s all changed. We, the Empire, are the descendants of those men, and their knowledge is all but lost to us.”

  “And isn’t another goal of the Empire to regain some of that lost knowledge?”

  “A definite goal, Stacy,” Nigel was quick to concede. “But we haven’t the ability or the manpower to do so much at once. Before you were born, Stacy, there were about twenty thousand men and women in the Empire — for that matter, in all the world. We’ve been prosperous since then, and now we number more than twice that. And about half already live in Newfoundland. That territory proved to be far more expansive than we thought. It could take us a hundred years before we actually need to find more space or different lands to colonize. Right now our hands are full just trying to deal with what we have. The Haven can’t even find the manpower to properly govern the Newfoundland wilds, so what business would we have in promoting a dangerous voyage to cross the open sea?”

  Stacy kept quiet for a long moment and let her father’s words run through her mind. It had been a convincing argument, she knew, but one that was based on faulty logic. “Father,” she said after a time, “how do we know that somewhere there aren’t other men, other civilizations? After all, we know so little of the world...”

  Nigel stared blankly. “We know because in th
e two thousand years of our own recorded history there has never been the slightest indication that other civilizations flourish. In all our explorations of Newfoundland, of the Uncharted Territories, there has never been a single sign of anything that would lead us to believe another civilization or culture exists. Not a single artefact — not as much as an arrowhead or copper trinkets. But you know that as well as I. Even the wolves, who have wandered the length and breadth of the world, claim to have known no other men.”

  And that, thought Stacy, was where his logic was wrong. Indeed the logic of the entire Council was wrong. “Yet just a moment ago you spoke of mighty sailing ships.”

  Nigel looked at her impatiently. “Dead civilizations, Stacy. All ashes scattered to the winds. But come on now, why all these questions of goals? And why all these questions about crossing the sea? What is it that you feel you have to tell me?”

  “A story, father. A very strange story — probably the most fantastic and incredible either of us has ever heard. And all I ask is that you listen to it with an open mind.” She leaned forward in the wicker chair, made a pyramid with her hands and recounted Old One’s tale exactly as he had told it to her.

  For a long while after she had finished, Nigel sat perfectly still, his own hands folded and eyes closed. At length he looked at his daughter and said, “Do you really believe all of this?”

  Stacy nodded seriously. “I do, father. I’m convinced of it.”

  Nigel stared glumly. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Then he said, “If you had told me this before an open Council meeting, you know what would have happened, don’t you?”

  Stacy cast her gaze to the floor. “They would have laughed,” she sighed.

  “That’s putting it mildly,” retorted Nigel. “They’d probably have had you gagged and thrown into the asylum.”

  Stacy turned her head away to hide the tears that were ready to flow. She had done her best to convince him — and she had failed. What more could she do?

  “But,” said Nigel, disregarding her hurt, “most members of the Council have never dealt with wolves. They don’t know them as we do.”