by Jasmine Walt
Lorelai’s breath caught in her throat.
“My queen,” Bruno interrupted, and Lorelai lurched back from Reyn.
“Well met, Bruno,” Reyn said, his grip tightening on Lorelai’s hand. His warm skin steadied Lorelai and soothed her heart. She was the queen. She did not need to apologize for anything.
Lorelai pushed any sense of self-consciousness away. She was a widow in mourning with no committed attachments. She did not need to answer to anyone. For the first time in her life, she was going to enjoy this. As an exiled queen whose entire family was lost, she would control her own fate.
Bruno smiled, leaning against the back of the bench and inhaling deeply of the air around Lorelai. “The fresh air is nothing compared to your perfume,” he said, ignoring Reyn.
Elba, who lay curled at her feet, looked up, but it wasn’t the laircat who was purring. Giant spring roses bloomed in Lorelai’s chest as both knights leaned towards her, though a slight line creased Bruno’s forehead. He was being suave, but something troubled him.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
Bruno stood straight, looking her in the eye. “There has been an emissary from my mother’s house.”
“Your mother?” Lorelai’s hand went to her throat.
“What is it?” Reyn asked, immediately standing up.
“It is not my mother I am worried for.” Bruno shook his head. “It’s the dwellers.”
His lashes, the longest Lorelai had ever seen, shaded his eyes.
“The people of Sec Salete?” Reyn relaxed slightly. He didn’t seem particularly surprised.
The desert dwellers lived in the broad expanse of wasteland across the Ludivine Channel. Formerly a great civilization that had once even expanded into Valliere, they now lived in harsh conditions as militant groups, reportedly with winged beasts. King Peverell, and his father before him, had made a strong treaty with them, which insisted their growing armies were only used to defend themselves against their enemies to the south, but citizens of the Western Region always sat uneasily on the border. Though the Saletians were known to have a naval branch to their military forces, they were rarely spotted in Ludivine Channel and had not invaded Valliere in living memory.
“Yes.” Bruno nodded. “Their ships were seen in the channel, across treaty lines.”
“Do they not use the channel for passage?” Lorelai inquired.
“They’re allowed to pass,” Reyn concurred, “but not linger.”
“Are you sure they are lingering?” Lorelai asked. “Maybe they are just sailing from the Mer de San to Mer Ouverte.”
“There is a difference between the fast-skimming boats the scouts use and the fishing boats.” Bruno scowled. “We have not seen the scouting vessels on the waters in years. With a new king on the throne, all our neighbors grow restless.”
“What I don’t understand, Bruno, is if they were truly scouting, why in the name of the saints would they send an obvious scouting boat?” Lorelai asked. “Wouldn’t they send a fishing boat in subterfuge?”
“Because the desert dwellers desire a fair battle with plenty of warriors to kill.” Reyn’s voice was flippant.
“They will want to give us warning, so we are ready for battle,” Bruno said.
“Have they raided anywhere yet?” Lorelai asked.
“The desert dwellers will not raid,” Reyn said with a smile. “They will want a massive battle against many warriors, so whether they live or die, they will gain great glory on the battlefield. They will take as many of our people with them as possible.”
Lorelai rounded on him. “How can you be so happy about that?”
“Because I would love nothing more than to do some damage to the desert rabble,” Reyn said with a glint in his eye. “They have a long history with House des Barres.”
“I doubt we are going to settle this without the support of all the warriors of the kingdom,” Bruno said. “And under the current circumstances, there’s a good chance we will not receive that.”
“True,” Reyn said. His hand fell to the hilt of his sword. Lorelai wondered if he only saw this as an opportunity to slay an enemy. “I wonder if they are scouting my house as well.”
Lorelai motioned towards the castle. “I will meet with the emissary from your mother, Bruno. I would like to hear what he has to say. And perhaps it is time we formally request her support.”
Bruno cringed as if he feared this encounter with his mother more than he dreaded facing the legions of Sec Salete desert dwellers. It did not bode well for gaining the formidable Lady Montbard’s support.
16
Bruno stared at the map on the table in the council room, a large chamber to the side of Lord Perigord’s great hall. They had all gathered to greet the emissary from House du Montbard and review the situation. He had hoped at first it was just a mistake. A chance sighting of some desert dweller’s vessel. That perhaps with the change of the king, there were just heightened nerves that would come to nothing. But the man’s description had been keen, and now the envoy pointed to the areas where the dwellers’ scouts had been seen.
“That’s quite far north.” Bruno rubbed his chin.
“If they are coming to the other side and Argeles-sur-Mer also, we will be in trouble,” Reyn agreed.
“Is it possible they could be attacking us from the north and south?” Lorelai asked.
“They are opportunists,” Taron said. “If they think there is a chance to win, they will take it. However, the king has been dead for less than a month. Could they really have amassed such an army in so little time?”
Bruno didn’t think it was possible. The dwellers lived as militant tribes scattered across the immense desert. It would take them a month alone just to get word out to all the different tribes.
“It’s not like everyone didn’t know the king was ill,” Reyn said. He bowed towards Lorelai. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”
Lorelai waved her hand dismissively at his comment. “No, it is true. But do you think they would’ve been planning something this sudden? How could they have known precisely when he would die?”
“Is there any chance they could have an agreement with Guntram?” Andre asked, winding a delicate strand of silver metal thread around a massive finger. Bruno had grown used to this habit of Andre’s over the years. His way of fidgeting with silver, his hands often moving as he formed new shapes, which later might become delicate jewelry or a filigree decorative pattern on armor.
“Anything is possible, Andre,” Marrok said. “But you forget who rules the desert dwellers.”
“One of the princes?” Lorelai asked. “One of the hundred children of Sec Tesaibeau?”
“I don’t think he’s talking about the person,” Bruno said. “He’s talking about their passion. The desert dwellers are ruled by their hearts, pride, and obsession. They would never deal with Guntram. Despite what anybody might think, they are people of honor. They would want to win on their own merit. They would attack of their own accord. Not in cohort with the king. Especially if they knew the king murdered his brother. This is not their style.”
“Bruno’s right,” Reyn said. “They will attack alone. But there will be tens of thousands of them seeking a foothold in the kingdom while we are weak.”
Andre folded his arms across his chest. “Especially if they know there is a disagreement in the royal house.”
“Have you word from your sister?” Taron asked Reyn.
“Not yet.” Reyn shook his head. “But they will be preparing for some level of assault from Sec Salete, I’m sure.”
“We should find out if they can spare anybody in this direction,” Taron said.
Bruno nodded. “His lady sister will not be able to send many. It would leave them defenseless. Especially as we do not know yet about the king’s position.”
“We do,” Lord Perigord said as he entered the room, scanning a parchment. “We have a letter from Castle Ashford.”
“What says he?” Taron as
ked. His voice was the weight of stones, his gaze steady on Lord Perigord.
Bruno had a fairly good idea what Guntram would say. The man was a rat bastard who would watch his people die rather than defend any he thought went against his honor, which was ironic considering how few principles the man actually had.
“It is nothing we did not expect,” Lord Perigord said. “Apparently he is sending riders to all the houses of the Western Region. He is aware the desert dwellers are amassing to assault Valliere. But he also knows the dowager queen is with us.”
Bruno was pretty sure Lord Perigord was paraphrasing the letter. The words of the king were undoubtedly too insulting not only to the queen and to the knights, but to all those who followed her as well.
Lord Perigord moistened his lips as he continued. “The queen and her knights are considered outlaws of the kingdom. Therefore, while they continue to be harbored in the Western Region, the king will send no reinforcements. Once the outlaws are returned to Castle Ashford and handed over to the king, then he will support this region.” He folded the paper and stared around the room. “This is what Guntram says.”
Bruno stepped forward, placing an arm protectively around Lorelai’s shoulders. “There’s no way we’re handing over Lorelai.”
Lord Perigord raised his eyebrows at Bruno’s familiarity, but said nothing. Bruno’s skin burned, but he didn’t change his stance.
“We will not turn in the queen,” Reyn said.
Bruno felt the weight of Taron’s glare. He glowered back in defiance. The queen wasn’t telling him to take his arm off her shoulders, so why should he? They were close. He had earned this place and the right to be next to her. He didn’t care what the others thought.
At least, not completely.
Slowly he let his arm drop, but he refused to step back from the queen.
Taron cleared his throat. “Lord Perigord, if you would like us to leave your castle, we understand.”
Lord Perigord exchanged a swift glance with his wife, turning the letter over in his hands. All of the Perigords stared passively at him, but the lord did not consult them.
“You must not depart,” he said. “It is too dangerous. However, it might be best if we consult with the other lords of the Western Region to find how they will fight. We are all under threat here. House du Montbard and House des Barres”—he glanced between Bruno and Reyn—“will suffer the worst of it in their duchies if we are attacked.”
“But two or three houses alone cannot withstand the desert dwellers,” Lorelai said quietly. “If the king does not send his troops, House du Montbard and House des Barres, even with their bannermen, will be overwhelmed.”
“We have faced worse,” Bruno said.
“But not with so few people,” Lorelai insisted.
Taron tugged on his beard. “Andre, any chance there would be support from your brother?”
“If we sent a rider to ask,” Andre said, “it would only make us one man less. They would either kill or imprison him.”
“We have word House du Beloe is with the king,” Marrok grumbled. “And all his bannermen.”
Bruno wanted to spit on the floor at the mention of House du Beloe. He was pretty sure this was the house that was supplying kamin to the mages and taking the survivors of the battles and turning them into addicts. There was no proof yet, but he had seen an insignia on the clothing of one of the people in the shantytown. There was no doubt this house was with the king.
Lorelai stared thoughtfully at the map. “Lord Perigord, if I return to the capital…” Her voice trailed off.
Bruno spun on the queen. “What?”
“You cannot turn yourself in,” Taron insisted.
“You are sworn to me.” Lorelai drew herself up and gazed imperiously at him. “Not the other way around. If I decide to go to Castle Ashford and ask you to escort me, you must.”
Bruno sucked in air, his stomach aching like he’d been punched.
Andre leaned forward slightly, his breath ripped out of his throat as the silver coil around his finger unraveled itself. “You cannot,” he said.
Bruno would rather die in battle than for Lorelai to return to the castle and be executed. It didn’t matter where he found himself, but there was no way he would send his queen, his love, back to Guntram. His voice ached as it ripped out of his chest. “Do not ask this of me,” he said.
All the knights held the queen with the same fierce gaze.
“Do not ask this of us,” Reyn agreed.
“But so many will die.” Lorelai’s voice was hollow with strain. “If Guntram won’t send soldiers, how will we defend the region?”
“The same way we always have,” Taron said. “With our swords.”
“I believe you underestimate the desire of the people to have you on the throne,” Lord Perigord said to the queen. “It is not only my family who wishes Guntram away and you in his stead. You will see, if you stand strong and rally against those who attack us, you will find support in this region.”
“And you will find heart and passion as well,” Bruno said.
“But how do I know the people’s heart?” Lorelai asked. “How can I determine whose banner they should fight under?”
Bruno stepped between her and everyone in the room, blocking out all the other knights. He wanted her full attention. “You ask them.” He leaned towards her. “You ask them to show you their hearts, and they will do it. These people will have to fight no matter what. It is better they have a choice of whom they fight under.”
“Montbard is right,” Lord Perigord said. “I will send word to my people. We have family members in almost every house in the Western Region. We will send word that all who wish to follow you, Queen Lorelai, shall meet at the ruins of Castle Togene at dawn in two days. We will see how much support you have.”
Marrok nodded. “Bruno. Reyn. You should ride to your houses and seek the counsel of your families. Discover their hearts.”
“But the queen—” Angst ripped at Bruno’s heart. He was asked to leave Lorelai’s side.
“She will be fine,” Taron consoled him.
Was Taron just trying to get rid of the competition? “But—” Bruno protested.
“We are all here now,” Taron said. “And these are your houses.”
Reyn looked as annoyed as Bruno felt. But there was really no arguing. They did need to consult with their houses. It made no sense to block their duchies from the support of the royal house if their houses did not support the queen. He could not make this decision for his mother, and he knew Reyn could not make it for his sister.
“If they do not support me, I will turn myself in to Guntram,” Lorelai said.
Despite his desire to stay with the queen and his decided lack of enthusiasm to see his mother, it was inevitable. Bruno took a deep breath and bowed to Lorelai. “I will seek my mother’s will and return. And, my queen, if the people of the Western Region do not support you and will not fight beneath your banner, then I will escort you to Castle Ashford myself.”
17
Lorelai slipped out of the castle and headed towards the low-lying wooden building that housed the lord’s horses. Reyn had left for Argeles-sur-Mer, but Bruno still prepared for his departure. Elba had disappeared on one of her random adventures, undoubtedly to catch some wild animal for dinner. But Lorelai was trying to figure out why Bruno had not yet left.
The Perigord barns were nothing like the magnificent, soaring stables of Castle Ashford. In the capital, the steeds lived better than some of the lesser lords and ladies of the kingdom. But here, in the outskirts of Affama, in the keeping of a minor house, the beasts were kept in much more humble conditions. Still, like everything about the castle, the place was pristine. Even the scent was of horse hair and sweat rather than the stench of manure.
The queen stood quietly in the doorway, allowing her eyes to adjust. Light skidded through holes in the ceiling, floating down on dust particles and sparkling against the ground. The place seemed
empty of all but the beasts. Bruno’s chestnut mare stood saddled and ready in the center aisle.
“Bruno?” she asked softly into the dusky interior.
His brown head ducked out from the other side of his animal, a brush gripped in his hand.
“Cleaning her for the journey?” She smiled kindly.
Bruno shrugged sheepishly. “She’ll be covered in dust by the time I get there, but it never hurts to start out with an immaculate steed.”
He was obviously stalling. “Do you think she’ll join with us?” Lorelai asked.
Bruno’s eyes widened. “Of course,” he said, as if the answer were so obvious.
“It’s okay if your lady mother does not support me,” Lorelai said cautiously. “I only want to rule if the people wish for it.”
“I am sure she does not want to follow Guntram,” Bruno insisted.
“I am not interested in taking the country by force.” Lorelai’s hand stroked the soft, short hairs of the mare’s neck. “We are simply trying to find out if your mother desires fealty to me.”
Bruno sighed. “You’re worried because I haven’t left yet.” He stated the obvious, stepping around the animal and standing before Lorelai.
“Your delayed departure was noticed.” She smiled.
“It has nothing to do with my mother’s loyalty to you.”
She chewed on her lower lip, gazing up at him. “Then what?”
The knight put the brush down, breathing in slowly as his eyes darted skyward. “She reminds me of my greatest sin. It’s hard to be with her. For both of us.”
“Your sin?”
Deep lines creased Bruno’s face as he frowned. “I killed my brother.”
“No!” Lorelai exclaimed before she could stop herself.
“It’s true,” Bruno said, sitting heavily on a straw bale with a loud sigh.
Lorelai went to his side, sitting down and taking his hand in hers. “I’m sure it was an accident.”
Bruno shrugged, staring at the loose pieces of straw lying abandoned on the barn floor. “It matters not the intention. The result was the same.”