by Karalynn Lee
Her short tone made him pause. “If you’re interested in Helsmont steel, our most skilled smith can be found near the keep. I could show you—”
“Thanks. I’ll find him on my own.”
This time she could only blame her own prickliness for blighting the conversation. When they finished eating, he made his excuses and she watched his disappearing back with a wash of remorse. At least this time he’d been trying.
She sought out the seneschal and asked him where to find this smith. Perhaps she could tell the king about her visit and prove to him that she could talk civilly about swords.
She followed Rendel’s directions and the sound of ringing metal to a smithy, where the sword-smith—massive-armed, like all his type—let her warm herself by the forge while she watched him hammer Helsmont’s famed steel into a rough blade. It was one of a matched pair that the king had requested, intended for sword-dancing. “They’ll take a couple of months to finish, but they’re meant as a gift for Commandant Beatris,” the smith told her. “Seeing as how she brought you here safely, Princess.”
“It seems I should be giving her something, then.”
He chuckled. “She’s a proud one. She’ll take something from the king because she has to, but I’m sure she thought escorting you was only her rightful duty.”
“She takes on a lot of responsibility, doesn’t she?”
His bushy eyebrows climbed up. “She’s the first of all the guards in Helsmont, Princess.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t realized she’d been entrusted to the care of the highest-ranking commandant. She winced. I shouldn’t have made that jest about her safeguarding my virginity. It’d been an inadvertent insult of Beatris’s skills, and complete ignorance of how the mountain-king had been honoring her.
“Never you mind, Princess.” He set a hand on her shoulder and she stiffened, shocked at his familiarity. “We’ve grown up here, most of us, and we all know each other and never bother to say these things. We don’t send our gossip down the mountainside to Anagard, so how could you have known?”
He spoke so kindly that she relaxed. The people here didn’t treat her like a princess. But they treated her like she belonged—more than she’d experienced in Anagard. The realization woke a new hunger in her to see and learn as much of Helsmont as possible.
She told the king as much at their next breakfast, and in an oblique apology for the way she’d rejected his offer yesterday, asked, “Where else should I go?”
He tilted his head, thinking. “It’s too sweet for my taste, but many traders make a point of stopping in the bakery.”
She coughed. “I found Emeray’s on my first day.”
“Hmm. I’m so accustomed to the city that it’s hard to know what a newcomer might find interesting. But if you want to see Helsmont from a different angle…”
He took her outside of the keep, to an alley where a number of crates sat stacked against a wall. He set his hands atop one and pulled himself up smoothly. Then he turned and crouched to help her. She grinned as she scrambled up next to him. Who would’ve thought the mountain-king could be so undignified as to climb crates? And judging from the graceful ease with which he did, it wasn’t the first time. I don’t care where he’s taking me—just getting there is worth it.
She got the knack of it after the next couple of crates, just in time to clamber up onto the roof of the adjacent building. It didn’t end there. He led her to the opposite edge, where they climbed up another level. She had to brace against the slope of the roof, but the edges of the tiles provided some foothold. It made for an exhilarating challenge, but not one so difficult that she feared falling.
When they reached the apex of the next building, he stopped and waited for her to secure her balance beside him. Once she stood steadily, he guided her gaze down and outward. “From here you can see the city much more clearly than from the keep’s towers.”
He was right. She could make out the details that made each building distinctive, rather than miniature structures. She could even see the people walking in the streets.
He pointed to one building. “There’s the apothecary’s, and beside it, the leatherworker’s.” He turned slightly. “The market opens in that square once a week.”
As he continued describing various sites, it did help to have an overhead view of the city in all directions. She could easily see the most direct route to each place, and where they were in relation to each other. After absorbing the list of landmarks, she slowly turned around in a full rotation to take in the whole city. The rooftop was even better than the tower in that there was no stone enclosing her, only the open air and all its freedom.
She smiled at the king. “Thank you. I’ll know my way around now.” And she was on firmer footing with him, as well. He wouldn’t have taken the time to show her Helsmont if it wasn’t important to him that she feel more at home here. He might be a reserved man—particularly with words—but there was a stark sincerity to his actions she appreciated. “You’re lucky I’m not afraid of heights.”
He arched his brows. “I’m so partial to them myself that I never even considered the possibility. You’re right, I am quite lucky.” He looked right at her as he said it.
She ducked her head, not quite ready to meet the warmth in his gaze. She still had no idea how she’d attracted the interest of the mountain-king, but she was starting not to regret it.
So she settled into a new routine with zest: early sword-dancing practice with Jakkis, breakfast with the mountain-king, and then anywhere her curiosity led her in the city. Often she encountered the king while he was out on his own business. She saw him helping to reroof a house and settle a dispute between merchants, and began to understand the easy respect his people accorded him. Once she bumped into him while visiting the bakery, where she learned that Emeray hadn’t expected twins, and that the king had named Zerel—a fact the boy seemed to think gave him special rights to perch on the king’s shoulders. He had a deft way with children, and had even mastered the knack of keeping them entertained while still retaining his dignity. Maybe I can pick that up from him, when the time comes.
The mountain-king as a father—as the father of her children—wasn’t so discordant a thought as it once might have been. Any sons and daughters she bore could grow up happy here.
When she needed space, she joined the guards on perimeter duty. But the city walls rarely offered anything new, especially since they never ventured far.
One afternoon while wondering if there was anywhere in the city she hadn’t been yet, she looked up at the watchtower and remembered Herrol was being held there.
The guard at its base didn’t seem surprised to see her, greeting her with a cheerful “Princess” and opening the door for her.
She made her way up the steps. On each level she checked for Herrol, but found only storage rooms and a single closed door where no one responded to her knocking. Toward the top there was a bedroom, but he wasn’t within, so she continued onward.
As it had in the northwestern tower, the view hit her first. Mountains surrounded them on one side behind a haze of fog, jagged layers of receding colors giving way to the cloud-streaked sky. But as she slowly pivoted southward, she saw the thread of blue that wended down toward the sea. There was Anagard, with its hills and woods. She hadn’t realized how beautiful her homeland was.
“Princess,” someone said, and she looked over to see Borhin standing guard nearby. His cheek had healed nicely from the slash the Kenasgate soldiers had given him at the ambush. Herrol, the leader of that ambush, stood next to him, leaning on his elbows as he looked over the tower wall.
“I just wanted to see how Herrol was doing,” she said.
“I can’t leave my post,” Borhin said apologetically. “You could head downstairs if you want to speak in private, though.”
“That’s fine. I wasn’t planning on saying anything scandalous anyway.”
“That’s a pity,” Herrol said. “I’m sure Borhin was dying
for some gossip.”
The guard only said, “Unlike you, I get my share, since I actually leave this tower sometimes.”
Herrol scowled, clearly stung, but said nothing.
“You’re not allowed to leave?” She thought about being imprisoned within these cold walls and shivered. “I’ll talk to the king.”
“I’m allowed to.” Herrol shrugged. “I just don’t bother.”
“It’s freezing up here.”
“I don’t notice it anymore.”
She exchanged glances with the guard. She’d thought the guard unnecessarily caustic just now, but if he’d been dealing with a sullen prince for days, she couldn’t blame him. “Come on. There’s more to Helsmont than you can see from here, as fine as the view is. There’s a bakery you have to try.”
“Emeray’s?” Borhin asked, and when she nodded, sighed in obvious longing. “Samir’s a lucky man. You shouldn’t miss it, Prince. Go on.”
Herrol bristled a bit at this offhand order, but allowed her to coax him down the stairs. As they left the keep grounds, she kept an eye out for his spy, but nobody seemed to follow them, and Herrol didn’t approach anyone either. He remained prickly, even after being introduced to Emeray and her pastries. Kimri considered this level of surliness a feat.
“How’s your nose?” she asked when they were alone again. Perhaps its being broken meant he couldn’t properly inhale the magical smells of the bakery.
He almost touched it. “Healing. And my foot’s better too.”
“Are they treating you well?”
“Fine. Mostly ignoring me. What about you?”
She considered. “About the same, although I thought of it as being left to my own devices.”
“Hasn’t the mountain-king spent time with you?”
She thought of their breakfasts and encounters about the city. They were still mostly amicably silent affairs, peppered with brief exchanges. Does it count as spending time with me when he barely says a word? “I suppose. I’m not sure what to make of him.”
He chuckled. “You and generations of Kenasgate rulers. We’re not even sure when the current mountain-king came to power. They’re all the same, reclusive both in their own ways and with their realm. It shocked me when I found out about the alliance with Anagard. It’s unheard of.”
“I imagine he needs an heir and wanted a bride of proper rank who would bring new blood.” That was one solace of this marriage, as she looked forward to having children.
“Yes, I’m sorry I had no sisters to sacrifice in your lieu.”
“To win Helsmont’s weapons for Kenasgate instead?” She grinned.
He looked at her seriously. “I was thinking of you, actually, and how you don’t deserve to be stuck here.”
“It’s not so bad. Perhaps it’s so isolated because people don’t want to leave.” She ignored his snort. “Everyone’s been so friendly and understanding of all the mistakes I make. And it’s beautiful here. There’s a wondrous view from the northwestern tower at sunrise, all trees and peaks and molten sky…”
“You like it here,” he said wonderingly.
She was as surprised as he. “I didn’t think I would. But the more time I spend here and the better I get to know the people…” She lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “Except for the cold,” she added with a smile. “I’ll never get used to that.”
“The cold’s the least of it. The city’s so insular, the guards undisciplined, the food…”
“You’re complaining about the food after what we just ate?”
“Well, not the bakery. But I’d kill to have a proper venison roast.”
She mentally ran through a list of food she’d been offered and realized he was right; there hadn’t been any meat. Goats must be kept mostly for their milk, and game might be scarce this high in the mountains. “Well, at least you know you won’t get too fat for your armor even though you’re sitting around in a tower all day.”
She’d been teasing, but he looked thoughtful. “Do you think the guards would let me practice with them?”
“You’ll have to ask the king.” She couldn’t help feeling jealous of her time with Jakkis. She’d grown to appreciate her instructor’s acerbic ways and keen eye, and didn’t want to share her hour with him with anyone else. “Do you think you could practice with a woman?” Kenasgate was like Anagard in that it had no women soldiers.
His brows lifted. “You know the sword?”
“Only a bit. But I was thinking of Beatris, the commandant of my escort.”
He sighed. “She trounced my men, didn’t she? I should better be willing to learn from her.”
“I trounced you,” she couldn’t help pointing out.
“Don’t remind me. That’s how I got here in the first place.”
“And there are other women soldiers too.” She thought of Yerra, who’d had her bow drawn and an arrow nocked almost before Kimri had registered another presence on the path outside the city, that first day on perimeter duty. Yerra had put away her weapon just as smoothly once the trader came into sight, but if he had been a bandit, he would’ve had steel in his throat as soon as he showed his face. “You’re right, everything’s so different in Helsmont.”
She still missed Anagard. But some things were better here. And her attitude seemed to rub off on Herrol, for he was almost his old self again by the time they returned to the tower. Borhin shot her a grateful glance, and she resolved to spend more time with the prince for the guard’s sake as much as her own.
“Can Herrol train with the guards?” she asked the mountain-king the next morning at breakfast.
He turned his thoughtful gaze upon her. “Do you think it wise, when your kingdoms are at war?”
She hadn’t considered it in those terms. The Helsmont guards were renowned for their skill, and their training methods likely had something to do with it. “Probably not. But I’m worried about him wasting away in that tower.”
“I would have returned him to his home by now, but the king of Kenasgate has been difficult. I didn’t want to put his realm under too great a strain, so I asked him to suggest a suitable ransom. His reply was insultingly low.”
She was wondering how to delicately phrase the sentiment that the mountain-king’s pride might not be worth hosting a depressed prince, when he added, “Insulting to his son.”
She considered that. What if Dereth had traded me off for a lead-string of goats? She would have been humiliated as well as furious. At least she’d known her brother hadn’t made the decision lightly. He had needed those weapons and Helsmont’s promise to keep out raiders.
The mountain-king might not need anything Kenasgate had to offer, but the ransom amount would be a demonstration of how much Herrol was valued. And he would likely become the next king of Kenasgate. These were matters she’d rarely contemplated before, but she would have to know more about politics if she were to become queen.
It was the first time she’d really considered the notion of being queen seriously. It scared her a little, for she’d grown up never thinking she’d hold any true responsibility. She was unprepared to share rule. Still, hadn’t she forced Dereth to share all his lessons with her? And the mountain-king surely wouldn’t let her remain ignorant of anything she needed to know.
She glanced at him. He didn’t seem to mind her contemplative silence, and she’d grown used to the comfortable quiet in which they spent most of their time together. She might ask an occasional question when she wondered about some aspect of Helsmont; he would respond in that beautifully deep voice of his, and then they’d return to wordless eating. She’d never felt this unhurried with anyone else. Hadn’t Dereth rushed her out of Anagard with only a few weeks’ warning? The mountain-king had given her an entire year.
But as much as she appreciated his patience, now she chafed for more. She tried sharing one of her thoughts. “Women in the riverlands wed kings to become consorts. They hold little power.”
His forehead furrowed as he tr
ied to connect this with their earlier topic of conversation. “If Herrol’s mother were still alive, she would likely plead his case, but since she has passed and another woman is the king of Kenasgate’s consort now—”
She shook her head. “I know that. I meant only that Helsmont is far more generous in its ways than I’m used to.”
“There are many capable women in my realm. I don’t see why they shouldn’t engage themselves as they will.”
“Like Beatris.”
“Yes. She’s not from Helsmont. She came here for a fair chance and rose high on her own merit.”
She could see why Beatris would prefer this kingdom. “Where is she from?”
“You should speak with her yourself,” the mountain-king said. “I think it best that people tell their own stories so they can judge when it’s best for them to be heard.”
It was an odd sentiment for a king to express, but one she could appreciate. She didn’t want to bother Beatris at her duties, though. “Does she ever go with the other guards to the tavern?”
“At times.”
“I’ll try to find her there, then.” Impulsively she added, “Do you ever go?”
“No.” His expression was bemused.
“Why not?” Dereth had occasionally shared ales with his soldiers, and he’d told her he would choose it over eating the finest dinner at court with nobles any day.
He looked at a loss. “I never really considered it.”
Having blundered down this path, she forged ahead. “What about tonight?” Perhaps at the tavern he’d loosen up a little.
He made a gesture of surrender. “I’ll come.”
* * *
But Beatris didn’t. When Kimri saw Jakkis in the tavern, though, she remembered he was the commandant’s father. She collected her cider and slid into the seat next to him. “So where did you live before Helsmont?”
He glanced at her in surprise. “I grew up here, Princess.”
“But Beatris…”
“Ah.” He set down his tankard and turned to face her fully. “Beatris was raised by her mother in a far northern realm I once traveled to when I served as a guard. It’s a very different place from here or even the riverlands. Women are expected to engage in the softer arts, but she’d inherited my hand with the sword. They tried to beat it out of her. She was abused and unhappy, and the circumstances of her birth didn’t help either. I hadn’t even known about her, but she somehow found me and I welcomed her here. She’s made her own place in Helsmont now, and I’m proud to have her as a daughter. Don’t doubt her loyalty because she’s foreign-born. If anything, it’s made her even more determined to serve our king well.”