Duty: a novel of Rhynan

by Rachel Rossano

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  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Anise intended to stay behind in Wisenvale with the children and help with the recovery process. Before we left, she brought Darnay to say goodbye.

  “Father!” Breaking free of his grandmother’s hand, Darnay ran to Tomas.

  Catching his son in a crushing hug, Tomas swung him around once before setting him on his feet again.

  “I missed you.” Tomas mussed the boy’s already rebellious hair.

  Curls fell into Darnay’s eyes. He pushed them away impatiently to frown up at his father. “Grandmother says you are going away again and I have to stay with her and the women.” He glanced at me with the last word.

  “There is nothing wrong with staying with the women. They need someone to protect them while we are gone.”

  “Why can’t you stay?”

  Tomas took a slow breath. “A man has taken something that isn’t his.”

  “You are going to make him give it back, right?”

  “That is the idea.”

  “But why can’t Uncle Quaren take the men and do it for you? I want you to stay.”

  “Quaren isn’t the Earl, Darnay. I am. I promised the king I would take care of what the man took. It is my duty to make the man give it back.”

  Darnay threw back his shoulders and stuck out his chest. “A man doesn’t go back on his promises.”

  Tomas smiled. “That is right.”

  Darnay nodded, but then his gazed strayed to me. “What about Brielle?”

  “What about her?” Tomas turned so he could smile at me.

  “Do you want me to protect her also?”

  “I will take over that duty for a bit. She is coming with me.”

  Darnay’s brow lowered and his bottom lip came out slightly. “Why does she get to go with you when I can’t? She is a girl.”

  I tensed for the coming storm, but Tomas didn’t even pause.

  “She is my wife now Darnay. She stays with me all the time. I explained this before. Brielle is special to me now.”

  “More special than me?” He avoided his father’s gaze.

  “No.” Tomas caught his son’s head between his hands and tilted it so they were almost nose to nose. “No one will replace my Darnay. You are special to me in a way completely different than Brielle. You are my son and she is my wife. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but we are a family.”

  “My lord?” Quaren spoke from behind my shoulder, making me jump. I hadn’t heard him approach.

  Tomas didn’t look away from Darnay’s face, but he answered. “Coming.” Stopping an escaped tear in its tracks with his thumb, he gazed deep into his son’s eyes. “I love you, son. You are one of the greatest gifts I have been given.”

  “More important than Brielle?”

  “You are my only Darnay. Irreplaceable. I love you.”

  The boy’s narrow shoulders suddenly sagged. “I love you, Father.” He threw his arms around Tomas’ neck and cried. Between sniffles he pled, “Please come back.”

  “As soon as I can.”

  “To stay?” Darnay pulled back to pin his father with his gaze.

  “To stay.”

  The boy’s bottom lip trembled. “I guess Brielle can stay too.” He still didn’t seem thrilled at the prospect.

  Tomas kissed his son’s forehead and then offered his rough cheek for Darnay to kiss.

  “Don’t forget to rub it in for later,” Darnay prompted. They both massaged the kisses into their skin.

  Rising, Tomas turned to offer me his hand.

  I took it with that acute awareness that Darnay watched our every move.

  Tomas knew it too. He pulled me close with a possessive arm around my waist and pressed his lips to my cheek. The kiss was chaste compared to the ones we shared only moments before in his tent, but it warmed me more because of what it symbolized. I was his wife and he meant for everyone to see it, even his son.

  He lifted me onto my horse before mounting his. We both waved to Darnay.

  Anise had already drawn the boy closer with a hand on his shoulder. He leaned into her skirts, all dark eyes and determination not to cry. His chin betrayed him.

  “He looks so much like his mother.”

  I studied Tomas in surprise as we turned our horses to the west. “I keep seeing a smaller version of you.”

  “Oh, I hope not.”

  “I disagree. There isn’t a better man he could emulate.”

  Tomas avoided my gaze. “I could think of many better men, Aiden for one, or Quaren.”

  Lord Dentin rode past us absorbed in a conversation with one of his underlings.

  “Not Dentin?” I asked.

  “Oh, no, I wouldn’t wish Dentin’s past on any man.”

  “I spoke not of your past. I referred to your character. You are kind, generous, loyal, honorable–”

  “–Bastard-born, stubborn, strong-willed, myopic, exacting, and harsh,” he added. “My reputation as a demanding commander is painfully accurate I am told.”

  “Yet, I suspect, you demand no more than you give yourself.”

  He fell silent. The murmur of conversations before and behind us filled the quiet. Even the horses contributed, with snuffing and snorts.

  “I shouldn’t have left you in Kyrenton.”

  For a moment I wasn’t sure I heard him. His focus fixated on an object far ahead on the trail. He didn’t even glance my way. Yet, I had heard him.

  “You couldn’t have known what Jorndar and Rolendis were plotting.”

  “I should have investigated his missing men.”

  “And abandoned Wisenvale?”

  “No,” he shook his head. “I would have handled Areyuthian with fewer men.”

  “You didn’t know it was Areyuthian then. You didn’t know it was your father. I suspect even if you had, you didn’t know how he would take the news that he was your father.”

  His jaw tightened, but no other movement betrayed that he heard me.

  I played over the scene in my head. “If your mother hadn’t spoken, you would’ve never told him.”

  “I don’t want to discuss it.”

  I pressed forward. “I need to know.”

  “Why?” The flare of anger in the blackness of his eyes as he turned to confront me induced hesitation, but not enough to still my tongue.

  “I am your wife and his daughter by law. I have a right to know.”

  The stubborn will he’d confessed only moments before tightened his jaw and hardened his eyes. He opened his mouth to deliver a harsh set down, but I spoke first.

  “Our children are going to want to know who their grandfather is, especially since he is their only living one. What do you want me to tell them? What have you told Darnay?”

  “Nothing. He hasn’t asked.”

  “He will.”

  Releasing a grunt of frustration, Tomas turned his face away from me.

  “At least tell me what you want me to tell him.”

  “If you must know, I didn’t plan on even telling Areyuthian. It would have complicated matters, not improved them. I was attempting to work out a better solution. Areyuthian cooperated with me until your cousin attacked me.”

  “Orwin didn’t want a better solution. He wanted a war,” I pointed out.

  “And I stood in his way yet again.” My puzzled frown prompted Tomas to explain further. “He tried manipulating Mendal into war with the barons before. I pointed out the holes in his fancy arguments.”

  “He probably sold his loyalty to them for land if the invasion was successful.”

  Tomas nodded. “He counted on carnage and victory to cover up the fact he was playing both sides against each other.”

  “It almost worked.” I would never forget the collective gasp of the army around me, nor the force of rage they summoned before charging toward Lord Areyuthian’s army set on avenging their fallen leader. “Now that Areyuthian knows…”

  “There will be no further contact betw
een us, Brielle. He is a high ranking noble under his king. He is trusted. He will be forgiven for fathering a son on one of many border raids in his wild days of youth. However, his king cannot forgive fraternization with the enemy. Family or not, I am still Areyuthian’s enemy. I shall serve my king, and he shall serve his. I will continue to pray we will never meet in the heat of battle.” Pain, deep rooted and aged, etched his features as he finally met my gaze.

  I nodded. “I will tell Darnay both of his grandfathers were noble and honorable men like his father.”

  Tomas opened his mouth to protest, but I reached across the gap between our horses and grabbed his forearm.

  “Even if you don’t believe it of yourself, let Darnay believe it of you. It is important for a son to think well of his father.”

  Finally he nodded. “I can see the wisdom in that. Don’t lie to him, though. I am not a perfect man.”

  “I know.” Despite the knowledge, a warmth glowed within me like the embers of a fire.

  “My Lord Irvaine?” One of the many familiar men, who I had yet to learn to name, rode back to us from farther up the trail. “Antano wishes to speak to you about our speed. It appears the king finds our pace too quick.”

  Tomas stifled a groan so that the young man could not hear it. “Dentin?” he called back to where Lord Dentin was still arguing with his underling.

  “Tomas?” Dentin dismissed his man with a wave of his hand.

  “There is a disagreement about our traveling pace that I need to see to. Could you escort Brielle?”

  “With pleasure,” Dentin replied with no indication that he enjoyed the prospect more than any other. As he guided his horse to fall into step with mine, Tomas nodded to me and rode off toward the back of our company.

  “Your first marital spat?” Dentin inquired with mock innocence.

  “Hardly. Are you a married man, Lord Dentin?” I fluttered my eyelashes at him.

  He shot me a confused look. “I haven’t found a woman willing to put up with my history.”

  “Then you know that it couldn’t be our first. Besides, it was hardly a spat.”

  “Anyone listening would think you counted many years as a couple.”

  “I think it is safe to say we have established a friendship at least at this point.”

  He nodded. “Many marriages cannot even boast that.”

  We fell into silence for a half mile. Content in my own thoughts, I prayed for Tatin and Captain Parrian. I wondered how I could prove to the king I was not in collusion with my cousin. Orwin wronged me more times than I could recall. My late childhood memories crowded forward. Fight upon fight came to mind. We scarred each other in so many ways, some physical and some mental.

  I rubbed the scar behind my ear from the time he cut my saddle cinch. Father whipped him for that one. The only time I had ever seen my father lift a hand against any of his fostered boys.

  “Headache?” Dentin asked.

  I shook my head. “Old scar from the first time Orwin tried to kill me.”

  “Kill you?”

  “I was thirteen. Orwin had lived with us over a year at that point. Mother was dying, and Father realized Orwin refused to be reformed. Father petitioned King Trentham to issue a special decree and allow me to be his heir instead of Orwin.”

  “I didn’t know that was possible.”

  “I am not sure there was a precedent, but my father grew desperate. Orwin made no attempt to hide his scorn of my father and hatred of me.”

  “What did Orwin do?”

  “He wasn’t supposed to find out, but somehow he did, probably through Tyront or one of his other friends. They all took great joy in spying on the rest of us and reporting back interesting tidbits of information. Once Orwin heard, he notched the cinch on my horse’s saddle so it would break if stressed enough. He knew I loved to jump my horse. The groom missed the cut. I jumped a hillock, the leather broke, and I fell. My head struck a rock. I lost my senses for a few hours only to wake with a massive headache and my horse long gone. I walked home to find the whole village in hysterics. My horse wandered home saddleless and no one could find me. My mother had to be sedated with a special draught.”

  “Did he try again?”

  “No. Trentham decided Father’s petition was not urgent enough to set a precedent and rejected it. Orwin returned to simply making my life miserable.”

  “So you hate him?”

  “Hate?” I considered the word. “No, I don’t think hate describes it. Once father died, Orwin left Wisenvale. He became a yearly pest I dealt with after the first harvests when he came to claim his portion. I argued with him every year. He always won. There wasn’t much I could do beyond yell. He was the earl and I was a nobody.”

  “You were still a gently bred lady.”

  I laughed. “He only saw the girl in braids who shamed him in front of his gang when he was fifteen.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “He called my mother a horrible name. I gave him matching black eyes.”

  He considered it all for a moment. “It sounds as though you would need some pretty strong incentive to assist him in any way.”

  “He could offer nothing that would make me even consider it.”

  “Title?”

  “I outrank him already. Tomas is an earl and the king’s favorite.”

  “Through Orwin’s arrangement. Some might say you owe him.” He lifted his eyebrows at me.

  “He sold me body and soul to save his own neck from the noose.”

  He studied me. I ignored his scrutiny.

  “Reevaluating your conclusion about my loyalties?”

  “I grow more certain that nothing would persuade you to assist him in any way. But I am at a loss to prove it to the king. We can only pray that Orwin didn’t know of Tyront’s plan to implicate you and eliminates all doubt himself.”

  “I hate the thought of depending on him for anything.” I shivered.

  “The more I know of the man, the more I agree.”

  Tomas appeared at my other side. Dentin greeted him with a question.

  “Are we slowing to accommodate the king?”

  “We are separating. Our company will travel ahead and the king’s will follow.” Tomas grimaced.

  “The advanced guard encountered Orwin a mile or so ahead. The King’s men took down one of his companions but didn’t they gain any information from him before he died.”

  “So, Orwin might be heading for Kyrenton.” Dentin turned to me. “Does he know Sir Jorndar well?”

  “I have no idea. He knew the previous Lord Irvaine well enough to be blackmailing him so I suppose he might know Jorndar.”

  Dentin lapsed into silence.

  Tomas spoke a moment later. “Once we arrive, we will assess the situation, evaluate the best way to lay siege, and begin building siege works. The king expects to assault the walls in a week’s time.”

  “Ambitious.” Dentin adjusted his grip on the reins.

  “Perhaps not. We are all experienced at this sort of thing now. Also, we will have plenty of resources. The forest around Kyrenton is plenteous enough to build siege works for a dozen vargars.”

  “Then it will come down to resources.”

  I spoke up. “Then best prepare to winter in tents.” Both men frowned at me.

  Dentin took the bait. “Why?”

  “Kyrenton vargar has food enough to feed themselves through two winters.”

  Tomas groaned. “What we prayed for has now come to haunt us. They shall feast and we shall starve.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The camp for the night was infinitely more luxurious than I was accustomed to after the days spent on the trail between Wisenvale and Kyrenton. Tomas’ tent offered privacy and relative security from the curious eyes of the men. Between Wisenvale and our first camp, the cot became a bed wide enough for two sleepers. I made a mental note to find out who to thank for the switch.

  However, I quickly discovered not everything
had improved. I remained with Dentin when Tomas needed to meet with the supply master. A few moments later, Dentin was called away to mediate an argument between two of his men. I was once again fetching my own dinner.

  I set off toward the mess tent hoping meat was on the menu. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Passing through the dimness between the fires, I fell into wondering how Loren and Elise were doing on their first night together. Quaren probably wished he could be there as well.

  “Did she really ride through the battle lines?” A young man’s eager question caught my ear.

  I stopped and looked around. The nearest campfire was beyond a copse of trees and brush.

  “She nudged past me, hair wild and skirt hitched up so she could ride astride like a man.”

  I stepped off the trail toward the trees in time to see the second man, fair haired, rub his sword’s edge with a whetstone. The sound sent my skin into goose bumps. He continued to stroke the metal as he continued.

  “I have never seen a woman look so focused. She didn’t even flinch when the charge sounded.”

  “Bold, that one is.” A graying soldier commented from the far side of the fire. He rubbed oil into the leather of the saddle across his knees. The strong smell of liniment stung my nose despite being ten feet away.

  “Too bold perhaps.” The blond man spat into the bushes. “Makes one wonder who is the master in that mating.”

  My cheeks warmed. I had shamed Tomas.

  “Hush your mouth, Bitden. You will gain yourself a reprimand with that kind of talk.” The older man smacked the fair one with a cloth. “Irvaine is master enough to show her what is what should it need explaining.”

  “She seemed compliant enough at their wedding,” the young one pointed out from the shadows opposite the gray one.

  “You won’t catch my wife parading through battle lines,” Bitden muttered. He paused to check the edge of the blade with the pad of his thumb.

  “Your wife don’t do nothing beyond bearing children and demanding money and you know it.” The old man groaned as he shifted his saddle to work the other side. “A strong woman doesn’t mean her husband’s weak. It means he knows how to show respect where respect is due.”