Parno's Destiny: The Black Sheep of Soulan: Book Two

by N. C. Reed

  Leaving lame and useless horses behind him at every stop, the courier stayed in the saddle through the night and into the next day. He knew that he would pay for it afterward, and scarcely be able to walk in the days after this hard ride, but his duty was clear; the Marshal had to know.

  And so it was that a completely exhausted courier riding an all but lame charger finally slowed as he approached the pickets along the trail to the army's rear areas. He had been in the saddle for just over two days without stop and was on his last legs. A total of eleven horses had worn his saddle in that time, and two of them would never wear another.

  The pickets saw the McLeod seal and immediately brought him to the Marshal, pausing only long enough to place the man on a fresh horse. Staggering from the saddle before the Marshal's tent, the man presented his satchel, saluted, and then nearly collapsed.

  *****

  “-so we decided that it was time to come in for a few days, to leave our wounded and refit a bit,” Beaumont was just completing his report. “All in all, however, we felt like we had done a good job of disrupting their supply chain.”

  “And killed a good many Nor in doing so,” Whipple added in his cultured voice.

  “Sounds like it,” Parno nodded. “I am most pleased, gentlemen, most pleased indeed. It sounds like you've done far better than I had hoped, to be honest. I knew you'd be able to do damage, but this sounds like you took the idea and made it your own, to great success!”

  “Thank you, milord,” Beaumont nodded. “I must say that having Horace with me was a stroke of great good fortune. I hope he feels the same, but I believe the two of us have made a good team. What one doesn't see, or think of, the other usually does.”

  “Agreed,” Whipple smiled slightly.

  “So when do you-” Parno cut himself off as Harrel Sprigs entered his tent, his face neutral.

  “I'm sorry, milord, but there is a courier here for you,” he said.

  “Just give it to Enri,” Parno waved, but Sprigs shook his head.

  “A Royal Courier, milord, and it is most urgent,” the young man's face fought to stay flat. Parno looked at him for a moment and felt a chill run through him for some reason. He looked again to Beaumont and Whipple.

  “You two go and see to your commands,” he ordered. “We'll meet again later once you've had a chance to see to your duties.”

  “Of course, milord,” Beaumont nodded, rising. The two departed as Sprigs waved the exhausted courier into the tent. Parno took one look at the man and offered him water from a pitcher he had. The man accepted it gratefully, but did not offer to drink until he handed the folder he carried to the prince. As he drained the cup, Parno broke the seal.

  “From Memmnon?” he asked, not looking up. When the man didn't answer, Parno did look up. The courier's face looked pained.

  “Milord. . .better for you to read, milord,” he shook his head. “I don't know the details.” Parno looked at him another moment before turning to the hastily penned missive. He had stood by the time he was half-way through it, his face reddening. His hand tightened around the letter, crumpling it slightly as he looked at Sprigs.

  “Get Beaumont and Whipple back here,” he ordered. “Have Karls prepare the regiment to ride and have someone get Davies at once.” Sprigs nodded and hurried away, leaving the courier to face Parno.

  “How many know about this?” he demanded softly.

  “When I left, only a handful, sir,” the courier replied. “They were keeping it close until you could be notified and return to Nasil. I. . .I'm sorry, milord,” he added hesitantly. Parno nodded absently for a moment, then looked at the clearly exhausted man.

  “Not a word to anyone,” he cautioned. “Now go and get food and rest. Remain here until you're recovered and then return to Nasil. Check with General Davies before you leave to see if he has any messages that need to return with you. And thank you,” he added, extending his hand. “I can't imagine how rough a ride you've had, getting this here so quickly.”

  “My privilege to serve, milord,” he man replied, accepting the hand but then kneeling.

  “Rise,” Parno said gently. “Go and see to yourself, with the thanks of your Dynasty.” The man rose and departed, leaving Parno alone, but only for a moment as Enri Willard came rushing in.

  “What happened?” he asked. Parno handed him the note from Govan in answer and Enri read it quickly.

  “My God!”

  “Yes,” Parno nodded, his eyes distant. “It would seem that my sister is somewhat more unstable than previously thought. And that Colonel Callens is guilty of the most heinous of treason.”

  “Sir, I. . .” Enri trailed away, nothing coming.

  “We'll be leaving as soon as we can,” Parno told him. “I've already sent for Davies. Karls should be assembling the Sheep, and I'll be speaking to Beaumont and Whipple shortly. Make sure that all our preparations are made. I'll also have. . .I need to see Mister Parsons,” he settled for saying, and Enri nodded.

  “I'll find him,” he promised.

  “Go ahead then,” Parno ordered. “I have a note to write.”

  *****

  “I need this given directly to the Tinker, Mister Parsons,” Parno said evenly. “I'm sure you remember him.”

  “Oh, I do sir,” Parsons nodded, taking the small envelope. “Want me to see to it personally, sir?”

  “If you like, of course,” Parno nodded absently. “I'll be riding to Nasil within the hour. The men you attached to Beaumont's command will need to stay with him, is that all right?”

  “Of course,” Parsons nodded. His men were Parno's to command, the prince knew that.

  “See if you can figure out what's going on over there,” Parno waved a hand in the general direction of the Nor encampment. “I don't want to lose a man to them, mind you, but if you can scope out what they are doing, Davies will find that information useful I'm sure. Be wary of the Tribal warriors,” he cautioned. “I was surprised we didn't see them during the battle, looking for payback.”

  “We'll do what we can, sir,” Parsons nodded. “You don't want us with you?” he asked.

  “No work for you where I'm going, I'm afraid,” Parno shook his head. “I like as not won't need Karls and his men, either. I'm taking them out of an abundance of caution. That's all. Please get that delivered as soon as you can. And good luck,” he added.

  “Thank you, sir,” Parsons nodded and departed, heading to town to find the Tinker himself. Karls Willard entered the tent as Parsons departed, grim looking at best.

  “You've heard; I take it?” Parno asked.

  “I was going to ask if it was true, but from the look on your face I see it is,” Karls nodded.

  “Oh, yes,” Parno nodded. “We'll be riding within the hour. I don't know what we'll find when we get there, either.”

  “We'll be ready, whatever we find,” Karls promised grimly. “We'll be ready when you are,” he added and left without waiting for a dismissal.

  Parno leaned back for a moment, formulating what he would tell Davies. This morning things had been so simply. Not easy, by any means, just simple. Straightforward.

  That was all done, now.

  *****

  “We'll hold, milord,” Davies promised as Parno mounted his horse.

  “I have no doubt, general,” Parno nodded. “Godspeed,” he said simply and turned his horse. Cho Feng and Enril Willard rode behind him with Karls beside him and two squads of troopers ahead as a screen. They would make the trip as quickly as possible. With luck the moon would stay with them, allowing them to ride even after sunset.

  Without a word Parno started on the road to the Royal City and the destiny that waited for him there.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  -

  Stephanie made her way toward Memmnon's apartments with Winnie at her side, two soldiers in front and two behind.

  “Is this really necessary?” she asked softly.

  “Yes,” her friend nodded firmly. “If the death
of the King has taught us anything, it's that not even this place is safe right now. I will not be the one to have to tell the Marshal that something has happened to you.”

  “Very well,” Stephanie sighed as they reached the new King's apartments. Her escort took station outside, joining the one guarding Memmnon's door, while she and Winnie entered. The King was awake and smiled weakly at them when he saw them coming.

  “My two guardian angels,” he joked. “Ah, one even has her bow,” he winked at Winnie who blushed furiously. “You know,” he continued, “I'm not sure I've ever seen you without it.”

  “I try never to be without it,” she nodded, amazed that she could speak so in the presence of the king.

  “I can see, in hindsight, where that is a good policy to have,” Memmnon said stoically, though he winked again to lighten the tone and Winnie had to choke off a giggle.

  “Let us see how you fare today, my liege,” Stephanie said, moving to inspect the incision. She probed and prodded, Memmnon wincing once or twice, and finally hissing in pain.

  “You already checked there!” he insisted.

  “Patience, my King,” Stephanie chided and instantly regretted it as she saw Memmnon's face pale.

  “I'm sorry, my lord,” she said softly. “I didn't mean to make you think of it.”

  “Just takes some getting used to is all,” he admitted, shrugging. “So, will I live, you think?” he asked, grinning again in an attempt to erase the momentary loss of good humor in the room.

  “I suspect so,” Stephanie nodded, rising. “There's almost no drainage now, and what drainage is present is clear, which is ideal. The stitching is holding nicely, despite your refusal to follow doctor's directions,” she frowned at him. “You're going to be sore for a while, and it will take some time before you are able to get around as you like, but. . .yes. Barring some sort of unforeseen complication, you will make a full recovery.”

  “Parno will be relieved to hear it, I'm sure,” Memmnon sighed, resting his head back, missing Stephanie's blush at the comment.

  “What do you mean, sire?” she asked, fumbling with her equipment.

  “The last thing he wants is to be saddled with a crown,” Memmnon chuckled mirthlessly. “He would be certain that I had died just to spite him and make him King.”

  “Oh, surely not,” Stephanie smiled back, now realizing that Memmnon's remark hadn't been directed at her, and her relationship with his brother.

  “We had to beg him to take the post of Lord Marshal,” Memmnon told her. “Thank God he did it,” he said earnestly. “I don't know where we'd be right now without him.”

  “I see you aren't eating enough,” Stephanie inspected his tray, noting the soup that still remained. “You really must eat, your Majesty. You need your strength if you are to recover.”

  “I'm just not hungry,” Memmnon shrugged. “I eat when I'm hungry, though,” he added when she frowned.

  “You're going to need to eat when you're not, then,” she ordered. “You aren't getting enough at this rate to sustain your recovery. I'll have fresh soup sent to you from the kitchen and I expect you to eat it this time.”

  “Then send me something besides soup!” Memmnon shot back. “I'm sick of the sight of it.”

  “How about a nice sandwich of beef and some potatoes, then?” Stephanie asked, smiling.

  “That's more like it!” Memmnon practically rubbed his hands together.

  “Eat your soup today and we'll see about that for tomorrow,” Stephanie lowered the boom without pause, and Winnie had to smother a laugh as the look on Memmnon's face fell with the pronouncement.

  “That was cruel and entirely uncalled for, Doctor,” Memmnon told her with mock solemnity.

  “Eat. Your. Soup.” Stephanie ordered. “I'll be back to check on you in a bit. I expect to find that you've eaten all of it, this time. Then we can talk about some red meat and bread.” She gathered her things and started out, Winnie falling into step beside her.

  “Do you ever go anywhere without your shadow?” Memmnon called out to her back.

  “No, my liege, I do not!” she called over her shoulder as she went out the door. She informed his servant to see to it that fresh hot soup was fetched for him from the kitchen, then started back for Parno's apartments, which she was already thinking of as 'her' rooms. Winnie was silent until the two of them were back inside, guard posted outside, then laughed.

  “I think he's flirting with you.”

  “What?” Stephanie looked scandalized. “Why would say something like that?”

  “Because I can see,” Winnie told her, grinning. “I think he likes you.”

  “That would be completely improper,” Stephanie remarked at once. “Especially knowing that hi-” she broke off suddenly, realizing something.

  “He doesn't know,” she said softly. “No one knows, really. Not outside Cove Canton. Oh, dear,” she sat down abruptly. Winnie frowned, now, concerned.

  “What is it?” she asked. “I was only teasing, you know,” she added.

  “So you don't really think he's flirting?” Stephanie asked, looking hopeful.

  “You know, I doubt there's another woman in the kingdom who would look hopeful that Memmnon wasn't flirting with them,” Winnie teased again. “But yes, I do think he is. He doesn't know you and Parno are 'affianced',” she laughed. “If he did he would never do such a thing. Perhaps a judicious word from your 'shadow'?” she asked.

  “No, not without- I mean, we couldn't possibly say anything like that without Parno's approval, and even then it would be-, well, never you mind about whatever you think you see,” Stephanie waved her hand as if shooing a fly. “Besides, he is my patient, which prohibits any such. . .foolishness. Period.”

  “Hm,” Winnie nodded.

  *****

  Winifred Huble was a very smart young woman, but she was not quite as sharp as she fondly imagined. The request that afternoon to speak to the doctor 'privately' was met with trepidation by Stephanie and outright resistance by Winnie, especially knowing her friend's discomfort from earlier, but the bottom line was simple; Memmnon was King of Soulan now. If he wanted privacy, he got it. When the two were finally alone, Memmnon sighed in relief.

  “God, I thought she'd never leave!” he exclaimed, then looked at Stephanie.

  “Are you nervous, Doctor?” he asked, frowning in concern.

  “No, your highness,” she lied easily. “What may I do for you?” she smiled, then instantly regretted it.

  “I need. . .well, look,” he said, trying to put himself to a more comfortable position in the bed. “I wanted to ask you something and. . .well, this may seem most improper of me, but with all that's happening I have to be cautious.” He paused and she nodded her understanding.

  “You know I am unwed, of course,” he went on after a moment and Stephanie felt the floor fall out from under her. She nodded shakily, hoping her face hadn't lost all its color.

  “Just so you know for sure,” he nodded, looking into the distance, despite their being cloistered away in his rooms. “The thing is. . .I mean, I had thought of courtship, of course, being the Crown Prince and what not, but I thought I had plenty of time so I hadn't really engaged in any king of serious attempt at it, and now I'm glad I didn't because I've met someone that intrigues me a great deal, only. . .” He paused, obviously frustrated.

  “Just say it, sire,” Stephanie told him, knowing in her heart this could only end badly.

  “I'm trying to,” Memmnon almost hissed in aggravation. “Very well, but I'll have your word that this stays between us for now!”

  “In so far as it does not violate any previous oath I have taken, you may have it,” Stephanie told him after thinking about it for a minute. Apparently satisfied, Memmnon nodded.

  “Just so you understand, there's nothing that says I have to marry within the peerage,” he began and again she felt awkward. Despite how she was addressed due to her family's influence and standing, Stephanie herself held no title
, and the family name would pass to her brother, most likely.

  “I see,” she managed to keep a neutral face.

  “There are many who would expect me too, of course, but I'm of a mind that it doesn't matter what a woman's background is so long as her character is strong,” he said seriously. “Any woman who would raise my children would need to be able to handle them firmly. And to be honest, I've yet to meet a woman at court that doesn't make my teeth hurt,” Memmnon made a sour face here, and at any other time Stephanie would have laughed. Not today.

  “You may of course tell me if I'm out of line here, good doctor, but I felt I did not want to wait any longer before asking; Is Winifred married? Or betrothed in any way? Do you think she might fancy-, now see here, Doctor. I don't think this is a laughing matter at all!”

  *****

  Stephanie was still dabbing at her eyes when she emerged from the King's room, and Winnie was at once on the alert.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice neutral. A wrong answer here could see the men of Parno's regiment brawling with those of Memmnon's right here in the palace hallways.

  “What? Oh,” Stephanie nodded, “yes I'm fine, dear, just fine. A bit worn, but that's all. Let's do go and rest a bit,” she said, heading toward Parno's rooms with Winifred hastily trying to catch up as the guard also struggled to surround “Lady Freeman”.

  “That's it?” Winnie almost hissed as she came even with Stephanie. “You come out after a private audience, having been crying, and you're fine?”

  “Crying?” Stephanie looked at her. “I haven't-, oh, I suppose I would look like it,” she laughed slightly. “No dear, I was laughing, that's all. Harder than I have in some time, in fact.”

  “So he told you a joke?” Winnie glared, which made Stephanie glare yet again.

  “Not exactly,” Stephanie shook her head as the two reached their rooms. As soon as they arrived, Stephanie corralled Amelia and whispered to her. The girl's eyes widened for a moment and she shot a surreptitious glance at Winnie, then she nodded as Stephanie finished and shooed her on her way out the door.