by R. J. Price
Aren swore. “She’s a servant, so I cannot allow that. Even if I could handle what Telm would do to me for allowing such a thing, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself for fining him. It’s one thing to fine a man for hurting guards in their duties to attack him, it’s quite another to dole the same punishment for the same man who attacked an innocent in the hallway.”
“Those are the two options, Lady Aren. Blood coin, or warrior’s justice.”
“And there’s nothing I can say to—”
“No, Aren. If you were to alter my decision, then it would not be proper justice. I must judge him as my rank would judge a stranger. To do otherwise is to sign for my own death. Because if Av doesn’t do it once his feet are under him, you damned well know the barons would. Or Url. Or Lerd. Goodness, Telm might even do it for a giggle at this point.”
“Fine, do it your way.”
“I understand your concern is only the death portion of the justice,” Jer said steadily, likely for the benefit of the servant, so that the girl wouldn't think that Aren wanted Av to get off lightly. “But you asked what it means, so I told you what it could mean.”
It kind of hurt, that Aren wasn't trying to get Av off without discipline. She could have at least pretended she cared.
“And I appreciate that you understand my concern,” Aren said through gritted teeth. “I hope you understand how difficult this is for me.”
“I do. I will take him now to my father.”
“I will come with you,” Lerd said.
“Absolutely not!” Aren exclaimed to Lerd, causing the man to stiffen. “Lord Lerd, your loyalty is questionable at best and until I know just where that loyalty lies and how far your honour can be stretched, you will judge absolutely no one on my land. Do I make myself clear?”
Lerd was silent a long moment. “Perfectly.”
Chapter Nineteen
Aren watched Lord Lerd, who had yet to introduce himself properly, and wondered at how obvious he felt compared to other warriors. She wanted to trust him, to give him the benefit of the doubt, but a lifetime had taught her differently.
She was quiet as Jer led Av away, trying not to think about the fact that she might never see him again. She regretted, in that moment, not giving him some token of affection. Perhaps if she had he wouldn’t have been acting out. Or perhaps something else was going on and she should have been questioning others as to Av’s behaviour.
“Wena, take the serving girl to the healer hall and be certain she is seen to properly,” she said. “Then find Telm and give her the report. Make certain she understands that the high lord of the South is here. If she needs us, we will be walking towards, and then through, the gardens. It is a nice spring day, so we might as well get some air while we talk politics.”
“Not meaning to offend, but you have a head for politics?” Lerd asked as Wena led the servant out of the rooms.
“I haven’t the faintest idea—I’m learning as I go,” she responded smoothly. “However, if you think to take advantage of me because I know little of politics, I should warn you, Lord Lerd, that…”
And then she realized she was alone.
With a man.
It didn’t bother her that she was alone with the warrior, but it did bother her that she had sent Wena away. She was the one who had arranged to be alone with Lerd, who knew no better.
Lerd smiled as Aren trailed off. “You just realized how my name sounds out loud.”
Aren decided to run with that excuse.
“Yes, and in the same moment it occurred to me that you have a good, strong warrior name, as Telm would say. A proper name.”
“That was why my mother chose it, and my father had no ability to change her mind,” Lerd murmured. “You were threatening me, I do believe?”
“Yes, I was—what was I saying?” she asked herself. “Oh yes, the politics. I might know little, but that does not mean that I am so daft as to not ask others. I do have those I trust, who have seen a great deal more of this life than I have.”
“For a moment I thought you were going to say they had seen more of the world than you,” Lerd said, moving to the door to hold it open for her.
“I almost did, then it occurred to me that very few of them have travelled very far,” Aren responded, wondering why she felt so at ease around this man. “I do, of course, have questions for you. It is my understanding that you are Lady Em’s brother.”
“By blood only, I would hardly call her family,” Lerd muttered, then sighed. “My sister was young and stupid.”
“She was older than I am now, when she took the throne,” she said, leading the way down the hallway.
“I said young and stupid,” the high lord responded. “You are young, and appear thus far to have a mind between those ears of yours.”
“So you hold no loyalty to Em?” she asked, then paused to watch Lerd’s head shake. “I do hope it does not cause problems when I tell you that Lord Jer put an end to her.”
“That was included in the missive I was sent after your ascent. As her brother, the steward thought I should know,” Lerd said. The man hesitated a moment as a group of ladies passed by, whispering to one another and tugging the youngest member along as she tried to gawk at the high lord. “Where can I find Lord Cerlot, that I might tear his throat out?”
“If we are bartering in complete honesty, Lord Cerlot is my father, but no longer,” Aren said. “Nor is he my steward. Jer is now my steward.”
“Bartering in complete honesty?” Lerd asked, his voice lifting ever so slightly. “And what do you wish to know, Lady Aren?”
“I wish to know all of the land I rule, and those I am supposed to seek to realign with the palace lands. Perhaps amongst one of you lies the way to free myself of the throne and live a life more suiting to my purposes.”
“Can we please drop the formality?” Lerd grumbled. “Warriors have little patience for fancy words and long monologues.”
“Url manages just fine,” she said quietly.
“Lord Url is a mighty fine warrior. Which begs the question of what you've dangled in front of the poor man to bring him to your beck and call,” Lerd said sternly. “If you wish honesty, I wish to drop the formality.”
“Very well,” she said. “Why are those ladies whispering about you?”
“I suspect they whisper about my mate, who is a humble commoner, and this brings to question the title those ladies hold. They believe that because I have rank I must mate one of them, or another rank. My mate was a baker's daughter and is now a high lady. To them it is a blight.”
“You mated a commoner?” Aren asked, her surprise turning her voice a tad higher than she meant it to become. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. That is highly inappropriate of me. I'm just surprised that you... didn't hunt down a queen, throw her to the ground, and have your way with her.”
Lerd smiled. “A compliment. How kind of you, but I mated for love, not breeding.”
“And your children?”
“Three warriors, one queen, and another on the way,” he said, frowning at Aren. “Why do you ask?”
“To my ear you did mate for breeding, but also for love. A wonderful delight that I wish I had the advantage of. I am to mate Lord Av.”
“Ah, and your concern paints a different picture.”
“I thought we were dropping the formality,” Aren growled.
“When it comes to queens and mating, I stay as formal as possible,” Lerd said, his smile returning. “On the topic of my mate, I was hoping that you might do me an honour.”
Whenever he smiled at her, her heart seemed to skitter to a halt. Aren wondered if she'd ever feel that way about another man, and just why this man had that effect on her. And all the other ladies they passed.
Aren pulled to a stop in the hallway, turning to Lerd. “An honour? We've only just met.”
The high lord looked up and down the hallway. There was only one servant, who stiffened at his gaze and walked off.
“I wish
to have my mate and children stay at the palace for a time. She was born to the South—”
“The real reason, Lord Lerd,” Aren snarled.
“I am concerned that Lord Merkat may have a desire to destroy my family in his efforts to remove me from my estate and title,” Lerd said. “I can take his men, he only has commoners at his disposal and I will slaughter them all, but I do not want to risk my family seeing what I am capable of. In this way my children and mate will be safe and can receive a palace education under Telm. Thank the good spirits she's still alive.”
“You are how old?” she asked.
“Forty-four...”
“Do you know Telm by another name?”
“I know there were rumours that she looked a great deal like another beauty at court. I also know that she is dangerous, and I know that, if pushed, Telm will slaughter anyone who gets in her way. She is good and honourable and if there is blood on her hands, Lady Aren, there is a very good reason for it. Perhaps you should ask the man who attempted to break her.”
“I didn't know he was the man,” Aren said. “Av ripped him to shreds before I fully comprehended what was going on. I was simply enquiring because Lord Ervam came through and said it was a full story by then. Meaning years had passed and Olea was vague as to the timing. She's ten years older than you, or so she says.”
“You want to fill in the holes of your knowledge?”
“It annoys me to not know with absolute certainty,” she grumbled, walking on down the hallway as Lerd followed along beside her. “We've limited time until Telm finds me, which means I should go on to the important bits. I need to know about the land you hold.”
“I don't hold it. I hold no power and have fought tooth and nail for half of the powers that a high lord is supposed to have. The bastard tried to tax me, and then back-tax me for the previous high lords.”
“What of the land? I did hear some because I lived at Bilgern for a time.”
“In the last ten years the land has come full bloom. It feels a great deal like palace lands. This led me to believe there was a strong queen living there, but according to the scribes the South has always felt like that and fell on hard times. These hard times are why the South separated from palace lands.
“Coin and culture and trade items are flowing plenty. Their population is booming. Even though they are commoners, their standing army is not one to be trifled with. No other land has a standing army, let alone enough weapons and armour to arm them. If they declare war, you will have a large problem on your hands. They will march through palace lands.”
“So Url told me. He also seems to think the North would stand.”
Lerd let out a small sound almost like a moan. “Of course they would. The North has many ranks. Besides those who hold title, the rank tends to be weaker but they would still be ranks standing against commoners.”
“What does this mean exactly?” Aren asked.
“I don't ... did you not learn this growing up?”
“Assume I know nothing—that's usually the best way to get to the point quickly with me,” she said.
“A warrior is called a warrior for a reason. We live and breathe to fight and there hasn't been a war for us to sharpen our teeth on. Surely you saw the aftermath of what Av did.”
“I did, yes.”
“Any warrior is capable of doing that. The strong ones can do it on a whim. On a whim I can rip apart anyone in this palace, anyone at all, with my bare hands.” The man paused to lick his lips. He seemed to consider the idea as a shiver ran through him. “A commoner against a warrior stands little chance. Two commoners against a warrior? Then it would depend on the training of all involved. Merkat stands no chance against the warriors of the North. They are raised from birth to fight one another, bickering and sparring and biting.”
“That sounds terrible,” Aren muttered.
“It is absolutely glorious,” Lerd said. “I'd like to go right now and bite Av.”
“Don't you dare,” Aren snapped.
“The worst he'll receive is a beating, but Ervam will do it, which will make it all the worse. Ask Ervam to cane you some time. A trainer is just so... oh, I wish I had a trainer to romp with down there. Ervam and I? My goodness, it was near sexual gratification to be pinned by him.
“Trainers are the only ones who can take down any rank, any at all. They're also the only rank who has never been recorded as going bad. Being struck by one is... it is as if the whole world opened up and you are finally feeling for the first time. Once he's done with you, you feel as if he's beaten the anger right out of you and there's just this delight in it.”
“For you,” Aren said. “Av would be beat by his own father, you do realize. He must have gotten the cane at some point.”
“Ervam has never struck his children like that. He's the only trainer in generations that palace lands has seen and he is all too aware of the fact that he cannot control that touch of his. Trainers need to learn to control it, but Ervam cannot. If he strikes you, it will hurt. Commoner, queen, warrior, healer, it doesn't matter. A trainer can bring them all to their knees.”
“Do trainers go into battle?” she asked.
“Queens are more likely to go to battle, and a good man? Runs the other way when a queen goes to battle. You women don't stop to give quarter. You cut off a limb and then hit him with magic and leave him screaming in agony in the middle of the field. Then at the end of the day you blink at us, all innocent. You say that you protected the land but killed not a man, and then ask why we are that deathly white colour and yet so hard at the same time?”
“What does that mean? To be hard?”
“In the pants.”
“In the pants?” Aren asked.
“Are you a virgin as well?”
“Let's just say I know what kneeling is and what Av has shown me, but have no words for.”
“Well, if we're being informal, dear Aren, I can teach you a thing or two about catching a warrior's eye and bedding him.”
Chapter Twenty
“You want me to what?” Ervam demanded.
“Lerd—” Jer tried to explain.
“Oh, all right, let me stop you there. If he's on palace grounds of course he'd demand it. Damn it, Av.”
“I didn't know—” Av started.
“Of course you didn't know,” Ervam shouted. “That's why he demanded it! If we don't obey, do you know what Telm will do to not only you, but to us and to Lerd for not attempting to bring it up?”
“Why are you so upset?” Av shouted back. “I'm the one who's going to get disciplined for making a damned mistake!”
“And I'm the one who has to do it!”
Jer stepped between his brother and father. He pushed the two of them apart and thought for a moment. He knew the history between Lerd and his father because he recalled the fights the two men had. He also recalled how they would end up closer than ever after each fight. How his mother seemed to delight in how relaxed her mate was when he returned to her.
“Why you? Why not me?” Jer asked. “I'm guessing he only wants a beating to prove a point to Av.”
“That's the point in itself,” the trainer responded. “You beat your brother, it's something that's been done a hundred times already. I beat you, it's something different entirely.”
“How so?” Av asked.
Jer considered Ervam, then turned to Av. “Quit stalling. Take off your shirt and against the wall there. Either Father does it, or Lerd comes looking for you and—warrior or not—he will tear you to pieces, Av.”
The shirt was off in an instant, tossed at Jer's head because Av was annoyed and angry. When he turned back to his father, he found the trainer standing with a clenched jaw and crossed arms. Ervam wasn't angry so much as he was disturbed.
They had always been taught that trainers were a danger to warriors. They were told the basic principles of what a trainer was meant for and how they functioned. Always, they had been told that if it came down to it, their fat
her could take them no matter their age compared to his. Their mother had told them tales of warriors and queens, and how these great and mighty people trembled at the anger of a trainer.
In the dark of the night they whispered about the rumours they heard of their father. Of how he destroyed lords who stepped into his path. How that one warrior questioned him and ended up crippled for life. When Lerd had come of age they had witnessed the fights between their father and the young warrior that they understood, on an instinctual level, was stronger than either of them.
“If you have no other choice, there's no sense in stalling,” Jer said.
“It's 'if you have no other choice, there's no sense dicking about,' and it's a great deal simpler to say the true saying,” Ervam growled.
“What's dicking about?” Av asked, turning away from the wall.
“Playing with yourself.”
“But I like playing with myself,” the other warrior grumbled.
“It's more of playing with yourself when a willing partner of your choice is throwing themselves at you while naked,” Ervam said.
“I like playing with myself while a willing partner throws themselves at me,” Jer said, then chuckled at the scathing look his father attempted to give him. “I'm sorry, I couldn't help it.”
“Don't you have to play with yourself while Laeder does his thing?” Av asked.
“Beat that man before I do,” Jer said, turning his back to Av.
“He has a point and you're both getting beat.”
“Wait, what did I do?” Jer demanded.
“Jer, I need you both to be aware of the consequences of your actions. You are both in positions of authority, or could be placed in those positions, which require you to dole out punishment. Sometimes that will involve having me discipline a warrior, and I can accept that. It's part of what I am. It's part of the duties of a trainer. But I will not, under any circumstances, allow you to condemn another to what you yourself have not experienced.”
“What if we have to execute someone?” Jer asked.