Ezren looked at Orrin, and they stepped to another part of the room, giving Evelyn and her father a little privacy for a quiet conversation.
An older man entered the room, his hat in his hand. Orrin noticed his hands, rough and big-knuckled.
Ezren waved him over. “This is Hew, one of my men. We need a message taken to Blackhart’s men. Bring them here—”
“Not a good idea,” Orrin interrupted.
“Good point.” Ezren thought for a moment. “The Flying Pig, then. Take them there, and install them in rooms for tonight. I will send a message to have everything ready.” Ezren turned to Orrin. “Where are they?”
“They’re outside the city walls,” Orrin said. “Near the mass graves, in the trees. There’s a stand of birch off to the right of the road.”
Hew nodded. “How shall I know them?”
“Sidian,” Orrin said. “A big, tall man with black skin, and scars all over his face, chest, and arms. He’ll be there, with three others.”
“How will they know me?” Hew asked.
Orrin took off his cloak. “Wear this, and tell them the white-haired lady wishes to see them.”
“Easy enough.” Hew took the cloak and wrapped it in his own. “I’ll see it done, Lord Silvertongue.”
Ezren nodded. “Take two others with you, just in case.”
Hew nodded, and went out the door as servants arrived with food and drink. As they left, another group entered, including a young girl with shoulder-length brown hair and a glowing smile. “Aunt Evie!”
Orrin almost didn’t recognize the Queen without her regalia.
Evelyn and Gloriana came together in a hug, crying and laughing and talking all at the same time. Others came in as well: a thin woman with a severe, plain face, her hair pulled back tight, and Vembar, using a walking stick and leaning on Bethral’s arm.
“Officially, the Queen, upset by the events of the day, has taken to her chambers with a sick headache,” Ezren said softly. “This is just an informal gathering of friends, to exchange a bit of gossip and laughter. There can be no celebrations when the Archbishop’s health is in question.”
“Of course,” Orrin murmured.
Ezren moved to join the group by the fire, but Orrin Blackhart eased back from the group, letting the others claim the chairs, watching as Evelyn greeted her friends. He did not begrudge her this reunion, but he was not entirely comfortable.
Once Vembar was settled in a chair, Bethral looked at Orrin with what was clearly a warning. He noted that she had her weapons ready, and he suspected there were more guards outside the door. It wasn’t that she thought he was a threat. She was making sure he knew she was protecting her charge. He understood, and gave her a nod to make the point.
A glass was held out to him, and he was surprised to see the High Mage standing next to him, his own glass in hand. “It seems you’ve won my daughter’s hand.”
Orrin took the glass, not sure what to say.
“Just want you to know that I don’t give two damns about your past. All I care is that you make her happy.” Marlon poured wine into both their glasses, and drank deeply from his. “Ahh,” he said with satisfaction. “A good wine. Not up to Athelbryght’s standards, but good nonetheless.” Marlon held his glass out toward the chatting women. “Of course, if you don’t make her happy, I will fry your balls off.”
Oddly enough, the straightforward threat of bodily harm made Orrin feel more comfortable. “Of course.” Orrin took a sip of wine.
“So, when can I expect a grandchild?”
Orrin choked.
IT took forever for Evelyn to tell the tale of their adventures, but once that was done, it took far longer to get caught up to date with events in Palins. Orrin had gotten comfortable enough to sit on the arm of her chair. He was still on edge, but he was very interested in the conversation.
“Edenrich is secure,” Vembar said. “The citizens and warriors have accepted Gloriana as Chosen and Queen. And the Baronies are cooperating. It’s the lands between that are a problem now. Farentell is awash with bandits and thieves. We run the risk of the Black Hills going the same way.”
Gloriana nodded. “Bethral is leaving tomorrow, taking some of our warriors to Radaback’s Rill. She’s going to clear out a group of bandits who have been attacking travelers on the main road.”
“It won’t take long.” Bethral spoke with quiet confidence. “The Lord High Mage has offered to open a portal for me and my men. I figure to be back before sunset.”
“What of Athelbryght?” Evelyn asked. “Have you heard from Josiah?”
They all laughed. Bethral answered. “Oh, yes. The message was brief. They are together. Josiah claimed he had to sic his goats on Red to catch her.”
Evelyn darted a glance at Orrin, but he didn’t seem to have caught the reference.
“But they have made it clear that they are not leaving Athelbryght anytime soon,” Arent added. “There is too much work to be done there.” She looked down at the mug of kav in her hand. “As I need to return to Soccia.”
“Arent”—Evelyn leaned forward—“I couldn’t attend Auxter’s funeral. I grieve with you.”
“Thank you.” The woman’s voice was steady, but Evelyn heard the tightness in her throat. “I’ve stayed to help Gloriana, but I must return to my home.”
Gloriana reached over, taking the old woman’s hand. “I wish I could convince you to stay.”
Arent shook her head. “You’ll be fine. You have a good Council, and warriors to watch over you. Besides, we need to think about the other Cho—” Arent paused. “The other children as well.”
Vembar cleared his throat, and changed the subject. “What will you do, Evelyn?”
“Couldn’t they stay here?” Gloriana leaned forward in her chair.
“No,” Evelyn said firmly. “I’m sorry, Gloriana, but we can’t.” She looked at Orrin, who shrugged.
“My lady wife and I haven’t had time to think that through.” He glanced at her thoughtfully. “I’d like to see my men home again, and gather a few things of my own. But after that . . . .” Orrin frowned for a moment. “Sidian, one of my men, had an idea that we’d go traveling, but he wasn’t specific.”
“It doesn’t matter where we go,” Evelyn said. “As long as we are together, my lord husband.”
Orrin’s face lit from within, and he reached over and took her hand.
“Then consider this,” Vembar said. “So far, we have no one to rule the Black Hills.” He held up a hand to forestall their comments. “Oh, many have petitioned. But those we trust are needed where they are. And those who petition either aren’t trusted or don’t have the skills to rule a chicken roost, much less a barony.”
Gloriana spoke up. “Before this, the Court was focused onon Farentell. It’s seen as a fruitful and valuable land. The Black Hills were thought of as a dangerous wilderness, filled with odium and a people with a stubborn streak a mile long.”
“Not far from the truth,” Orrin said.
Vembar sighed. “Now . . . emeralds big as goose eggs will have everyone and their brother petitioning for the land grant.”
“What of Lord Fael?” Evelyn asked. “His lands abut the Hills. He could extend—”
“There is no love lost between Fael and the people of the Hills,” Orrin said. “Even before the death of King Everard, they raided each other. Now, after the fighting, it will be that much worse. Fael would not be welcome.”
“You can’t be thinking of Orrin,” Evelyn said. “The other High Barons would—”
“Actually,” Vembar said, “I was thinking of you.”
ORRIN blinked. “Evie?”
“Yes,” Vembar said. “I thought of it as soon as she came back from the Hills. I waited, thinking that she’d recover and we’d discuss it when she returned to Court.” He looked at everyone in the room. “If you think it through, it’s almost perfect.”
“Not as the Baroness,” Evelyn objected.
“No,” Ve
mbar acknowledged. “Given your position in the Church, I thought we could appoint you Guardian or Protector.”
“A temporary baroness?” Marlon chuckled. “Until such time as you found a suitable candidate.”
“But what about Blackhart?” Gloriana asked. “He’s hated.” She glanced at him, a blush on her cheeks. “Sorry.”
Evie’s fingers clenched around his, and Orrin squeezed her hand in reassurance. “Don’t apologize,” he said to Gloriana. “It’s the truth, and you need to take that into consideration.”
Ezren spoke up then, his voice cracking. “He is naught but a husband, and it is not like his heirs would inherit. It is a fine solution for the short term.”
“I don’t know,” Evelyn said. “We would need to consider.”
“And I would need to talk to my men,” Orrin said firmly. “They have a say in this.” He looked around the room. “But we leave in the morning. It will be safer.”
“I’ll open a portal for you,” Marlon offered. “I assume Evie’s not up to that yet.”
Evelyn smiled ruefully. “I’m only up to the small magics for now.”
“It will return,” Marlon said. “It takes time to recover from that kind of drain.”
“Very well,” Vembar said, then opened his mouth in a wide yawn. They all chuckled as he scowled. “That’s the hell of getting to my age. You run out of energy just when the party gets going.”
“No parties this night,” Arent said. “We’ve talked the day and night away.” She went to Vembar’s side. “It’s time for bed.”
“Is that an offer?” Vembar asked slyly.
Arent smiled. “I could never keep up with a wild man like you, Vembar of Edenrich.”
EVELYN was pleased when they learned that Ezren had taken the liberty of having quarters prepared for them. “As late as it it, there is no sense in trying to get to the inn where your men are,” Ezren told them. “It is a small inner room, but has a solid door and a good bolt. Good enough for this night.”
Small by his standards, but larger than her chamber at the church. The bed was good-sized as well, with thick curtains. A fire burned in the hearth, and she was glad to see that there was water for washing.
Orrin closed the door and bolted it. He turned, and pressed his back to the wood with a sigh.
Evelyn went to the bed, and sat on the edge. She watched with a smile as Orrin looked around, then knelt to check under the bed.
“Orrin,” she said.
He checked between the bed curtains and the wall.
“Orrin,” she said.
“I’d feel better if I had my weapons,” Orrin growled. “But I doubt that would be allowed.”
“Orrin.”
“At least there are no windows,” Orrin answered. He stalked back to the door, to check the bolt. “I—”
“My lord husband.” Evelyn lowered her voice to a growl.
Orrin’s eyes went wide, and his head whipped around.
Evie smiled, and patted the bed next to her.
As Orrin took a step toward her, a knock interrupted.
Orrin cursed loudly. There was a pause, and a muffled voice spoke. “May I have a moment?”
“Dominic?” Evelyn asked. She got off the bed, and moved to sit on the bench at its foot.
Orrin unbolted the door. The half-elf stood there, still dressed in his formal robes. They were stained around the hem and down the front. The normally immaculate priest looked tired and slovenly. As he walked in, Evelyn caught a whiff of the sickroom about him.
Orrin glowered as he closed the door.
“The Archbishop?” Evelyn asked.
Dominic stood straight, for all his weariness. He folded his hands into his sleeves. “Dying.”
Evelyn covered her mouth with her fingers. “Dominic, are you certain?”
He nodded, his long black hair falling into his face. He raised a thin hand to put it back behind his ear. “He can’t speak, can’t swallow, and seems to be in pain. None of our prayers have brought any healing, so we are using herbs to try to make him comfortable. Either the Gods have decided to call him to their side or—”
“He’s offended the Gods themselves.” Evelyn finished his thought.
“Serves him right,” Orrin growled. “And no, I won’t apologize for saying so.”
“I won’t ask you to,” Dominic said. “It’s I who should apologize.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
“I owe Evelyn an apology,” Dominic repeated. “And you an explanation.”
“For what?” Orrin narrowed his eyes. He remembered all too well the look of disdain on the priest’s face when he’d taken Evelyn through the portal.
“For making me think you had rejected me,” Evelyn replied, “after using me to get what you wanted.”
Orrin took two fast steps toward Dominic, his hands forming fists.
Dominic raised his chin, as if to accept the blow.
“Don’t, Orrin,” Evelyn said. “It didn’t—”
Orrin’s blow hit the snooty elf’s nose with a satisfying crunching sound and a spurt of blood. Dominic’s head rocked back, but he took it silently. He raised his hands to his face, and grimaced at the blood.
Orrin stepped back. “You deserved that, you bastard.”
“Probably,” Dominic said after a moment. He pulled out a large piece of white cloth, and held it to his nose.
“I’ve never known you to lie, Dominic.” Evelyn’s disapproval was clear.
“I was trying to protect you from yourself,” Dominic said, dabbing at his nose.
Orrin growled, and took a step forward.
Dominic sighed. “And from him.” He looked at Evelyn. “We’ve known each other for a long time, Evelyn. I don’t understand—”
Evelyn gave him a steady look. “You will, Dominic. When you, too, find the one you love.”
Dominic looked away. “Please reconsider your decision. Maybe not as to this man, but as to the Church. Eidam is dying, and a conclave must be called to choose a new archbishop. It will take time to summon the high-ranking clerics of both the Lord and the Lady. You could ask to be reinstated, Evelyn. Regain what you have lost, and—”
“Stop,” Evelyn said, her tone firm and resolute. “I lost nothing. I chose this path for myself, Dominic.”
She looked every inch the regal lady as she sat there. “How can I serve a church that supported a woman who used odium? How can I serve a church where status and rank are more important than the needs of the people?”
Evelyn looked down at her hands. “I was so busy plotting to put the Chosen on the Throne that I didn’t see what was happening around me.” She lifted her head, and gave Dominic a sad smile. “I cannot deny that I will miss the spiritual aspects. But not the secular ones, Dominic.”
Dominic sighed. “And I am stuck with the secular problems. Eidam cannot be replaced until he is dead, and that may take some time. There is maneuvering to see who will act in his stead in the meantime, and—”
“We wish you luck with that,” Orrin said as he opened the door.
Dominic stiffened, then spun on his heel and headed for the door, the cloth still held to his nose. “You might do me one courtesy. One of the Lady’s high priests was last seen in the Black Hills. If you could get word to him—”
“Dorne?” Evelyn said sharply.
“Yes, that’s his name.” Dominic dabbed at his nose. “The man hates the formal organizational requirements of the Church. But if you could get word to him, convince him to attend . . .”
Orrin gestured out the door, then closed it firmly behind Dominic and bolted it closed. He turned back to look at Evelyn. “He deserved it,” he said, determined to defend himself.
Evelyn tilted her head. “Orrin, I love you as you are. I really didn’t expect you were going to turn into a nice man because you love me.”
Orrin frowned. “So, you don’t think I’m nice? I can be nice. If I want to be.”
“Really?” Evelyn climbed onto the bed. “
Come show me.”
Orrin growled deep in his throat, and managed two steps before there was another knock at the door.
Evelyn fell back on the bed with a groan.
He cursed again, stomping back. “Who the hells is it?”
“Bethral,” came the reply.
Orrin unbolted the door again, and threw it open. Bethral was standing there, Orrin’s weapons in her hands. “I thought you might feel more comfortable with these by your side.”
“Thank you.” Orrin took them gratefully.
Bethral gave Evelyn an amused glance. “Is there anything you need before you retire?” When they both shook their heads, she gave them a nod. “Your men will be here in the morning, Blackhart. And High Mage Marlon will be here at midmorning to open a portal for both of us.” Bethral stepped into the hall. “Sleep well,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “If you sleep at all.”
Orrin closed the door firmly on her faint chuckle.
“Finally,” he said.
Evelyn watched him as he set his weapons close to the bed, and started to disrobe. “I’m not surprised that Dorne is of such a high rank,” she said. “His brooch marks him, if his manner does not.”
Orrin frowned as he set aside his chain shirt. “Are you sure? I never saw him wield any magics.”
“Each of us . . . of them . . . has different gifts. In some, the power of the Gods flows strongly. In others, not so much, or not at all.” Evelyn crawled out of the bed, and pulled back the bedding. “Just as warriors have different skills.”
Orrin stripped down, setting his clothes neatly aside, and crawled into bed. Evelyn slipped out of her white clothing, and joined him. They met in the center, to lie in each other’s arms, skin to skin.
“I didn’t think I’d ever feel this again.” Orrin breathed in her scent as he stroked her soft skin. “I thought we’d have just that one night.”
“A thousand nights will not be enough,” Evelyn murmured as she kissed him. “But this night we can take our time. Go slow.”
“Slow might just kill me, love.” Orrin kissed her chin, and she lifted her head so that he could plant kisses down the length of her neck and over her chest. “There’s just one thing, before we start.”
White Star Page 24