by Dave Duncan
this matter of his second marriage presented
complications he had still not resolved. It was more than
half a year since Wasp had brought the
proposal to Waro`edburh, grinning like a moray
eel. The witan had debated it at interminable
length. Baelmark was sick of war--children wanting
their fathers, wives missing their husbands, husbands
worrying that their wives might be entertaining the
thralls. But the King had sworn blood feud!
How could he back down from that most terrible of
oaths? Radgar had spent many days pacing the
moors or riding the hills, wrestling with all the
implications. And even now, as his bride
descended the steps, he was still not certain what he
should do.
And what he would do might be quite different
anyway.
She was wearing a very simple, ankle-length
blue gown with an open skirt displaying a
kirtle of cloth of gold. Anything more
elaborate would have been absurd for an ocean
voyage in an open boat, and the lappets of her
gable hood would keep the worst of the weather off her
face. She was tall--he had been warned about that
as if it were a flaw--but very little else about her
person could be discerned. Her hair was dark brown,
he had been informed, and so long that she could sit on
it, but at the moment he would not have been able to tell
if she were as bald as a turtle. He noticed
a total absence of jewelry and wondered if she
were again making the silence speak for her. High
cheekbones. Sensuous lips! Maybe even
voluptuous lips?
She looked even younger than he had expected,
more vulnerable.
It was highly unlikely that Princess
Malinda had ever seen a hairy chest before, other
than on a shepherd or plowman in the far distance.
It was equally unlikely that she had ever been so
close to naked swords, but she showed no
hesitation as she reviewed the unexpected honor
guard. Leofric fell back and let her
proceed alone, and she came marching
along the jetty, glancing at each face in
turn--right, left, right, left. ... As soon
as she passed them, the thegns relaxed their stony
stares--older men nodding approval, youngsters
grinning lecherously. They liked the look of their
strapping new queen.
She reached the end of the guard, the end of the
jetty, the stern of the ship. She was pale but well
in control of herself, not revealing the turmoil she
must be feeling at this crucial transition in her
life. The boardwalk was roughly level with the
rail; Radgar had thought to outfit the warship with a
stepladder. He offered a steadying hand and she
climbed down, muttered thanks without really
noticing him.
The two ladies-in-waiting had been found and
were now descending the bank, escorted by a
Blade. The crest of the bank was packed with
neck-craning courtiers--barons, viscounts,
earls, marquises, dukes, government
officials, military officers, consuls and
ambassadors, and their grand ladies, all
bleating like goats at their first sight of a dragon
ship and real pirates.
Leofric was showing his age now. Old wounds were
acting up. Instead of jumping aboard, he hobbled
down the steps, although the men would never let him hear
the last of that. He pulled the royal signet ring
off his finger and returned it to its owner,
accompanying it with a roll of parchment--the marriage
contract, of course--and also a meaningful nod. That
might be the briefest report any wita ever
delivered, but Radgar understood it. The ship lord
approved of the Princess and believed that she was there
of her own free will.
Did anyone other than Ambrose possess
free will in the court of Chivial?
Before the Blade and two women reached the
jetty, Leofric took hold of the steering oar and
shouted, "Board!"
Fast getaways were a Baelish specialty,
frequently a matter of life and death, and always
one of the first drills a werod practiced. In
two precisely timed waves, seventy-two
Baels boarded in a double crash of boots on the
gratings. Wracu lurched violently.
Malinda staggered.
Steadying her elbow, Radgar said softly,
"My lady, I am Radgar Aeleding."
"Good chance to you," she replied
absently. "Thegn Leofric, you need not wait for
those two women. Go without them. Depart at once,
please."
She knew how to give orders. Leofric said,
"Gea, hloefdige!" without even a glance
to Radgar for approval. "Cast off!" Two
cables were flipped and two oars pushed. Wracu
slid away from the jetty and began to turn as the
wind caught her. Seventy-two ports were
flipped open and seventy-two oars run out.
Then the words registered. Malinda spun around.
"What did you say?"
She had been sent a drawing of him. He had
picked out the least flattering of half a dozen, not
wanting to raise false expectations. He hoped
she was not disappointed--he prided himself that he
wore his years better than she could have expected.
His figure was still that of a youngster, and no silver
glinted in his trim copper beard. Princess
Dierda of Gevily had not fared so well in the
stakes matrimonial.
He smiled and repeated his previous statement.
"Your Grace!" She tried to kneel and his
hands flashed out to catch her arms.
"You don't kneel to me!" he said sharply, but
the contact was a mistake, informative for both of
them. She felt his strength. He learned that her
arms were as thick as a man's and not flab, either.
As her stare turned to a blush, he released his
grip. He felt the first stirring of lust and
suppressed it, determined not to let his
beallucas make this decision for him.
They wanted to, though! He had known a girl
with lips like those and she had been a hurricane in
bed. ...
"My pardon if I startled you. Did not your
father tell you I was here?"
She shook her head, eyes searching his face,
perhaps wondering where the fangs and horns were. She
had the golden eyes of the House of Ranulf.
"Did he even tell you that we knew each
other of old?"
"Why ... No, Your Grace." She looked
around. Wracu continued to drift slowly away from
the jetty. The ladies-in-waiting and their
Blade escort had stopped, uncertain whether
or not to continue. Up on the bank, her father was
peering over the heads of his cordon of Guards,
and the fury on his fat face was clearly visible.
"He assured me, Your Majesty,
that he had good reason to believe that you were gracious
in your person and of gentle manner."
"How kind of him!" Radgar said angrily.
"Such was not his opinion when we met twelve
years ago. It seems he came very close
to lying to you about our acquaintance. Would you agree that
he was trying to deceive you?"
Leofric waited patiently for orders. The
sailors smirked as they watched their monarch's
wooing. Malinda, understandably, was at a loss for
words.
Radgar raised his eyebrows. "An honest
answer, my lady! Did your father deliberately
hide from you the fact that he and I know each other
personally?"
Reluctant to call one or other king a liar,
she said, "Perhaps he forgot a brief--"
"I am sure he did not. What other
tricks did he use on you? What threats did
he make to force you into this marriage?"
"Your Majesty, I wrote to you! I
testified before the--"
"Yes, you did, because I would not sign the
treaty until I was given assurances that you were not
being forced into a union you found distasteful. I must
still hear it from your own lips."
"Your Grace ..." The multitude onshore
had fallen silent, staring at the longship.
Wracu had turned almost right around and was drifting
upstream in an eddy. Her oars remained spread
like wings, her crew sat patiently.
"Why did you not wait for your two ladies
to board?"
Malinda was understandably bewildered. "My lord
husband, why don't we sail?"
"Later. Because you knew they did not want
to come? Because they had been forced into accompanying you?
So what about yourself? You are happy at the
prospect of spending the rest of your life in
Baelmark bearing my children?"
"I am honored to wed so fine a king!"
"Oh, rubbish!" He despised himself for
bullying the child, but the marriage had not been his
idea. He was sworn to avenge his father's murder.
"You may be terrified or disgusted or shivering with
excitement. You cannot possibly feel honored.
I'm a slaver and a killer of thousands. But my
mother was forced into her marriage and I will not take you
as my wife unless I am convinced that you are
truly happy at the prospect. I
think you were bludgeoned into it. Speak! Persuade
me otherwise."
She gasped. "Unfair, my lord! I have
told you already and you refuse to believe me. You
call me liar?"
"I call your father worse than that. Did you not
accuse him of slaving?"
Color flamed in her cheeks and she dropped
her gaze. "I may have used intemperate words in
the shock of--I mean--The news was sprung on
me. ... I promise most faithfully, Your
Grace, that I will never presume to speak that way
to you."
That was the worst thing she could possibly say.
In his lonely deliberations, Radgar had realized
that what he wanted more than anything else was someone
to talk back to him. Nobody dared contradict a
king, or call him a fool, or tell him he was
making a mistake. They all waffled and mumbled.
Even Wasp and Aylwin these days--make a man
rich and he has too much to lose. Culfre had
been a dove, all sweetness and feathers.
Argument was what a king needed, argument from someone
whose interests were the same as his own, who had no
hidden purposes or allies. Yes, a lusty
mate to wrestle in bed would be welcome, but he
could buy those anytime.
Before he could find words, Malinda spoke again,
trying to sound defiant. "I am of the blood, so
I will marry whom I am told to marry. I have
always known this was my purpose, and I presume
to say, my lord, on first sight you seem much less
offensive than other suitors whose names have been
bandied around me in the past. The Czarevitch is a
congenital idiot. Prince Favon is said to be
fatter than my father. The Count of--"
"I am flattered," Radgar said dryly, "but
I did not mean Radgar Aeleding as a
two-legged male animal. All men are much the
same in the dark. Most women close their eyes
in the action, anyway. Kings also marry sight
unseen, lady, and it is not your appearance that
makes me reluctant--far from it! No, I
mean any king of Baelmark. My name in
Chivial is held in low esteem."
Her chin came up. "You will force me to beg?
A royal marriage is often a bridge between
former combatants. What of the treaty? If you
refuse me, must not the war continue?"
Now the tide was carrying the longship
slowly downstream and farther out over the
rain-speckled water. The crowds on the bank
continued to buzz with puzzled comment. Everyone must have
guessed by now that the man holding up proceedings
could only be the Monster himself.
Radgar shook his head sadly. "I could have
ended it any time in the last ten years, my lady.
I did not want to retract my juvenile
boasting and that is a foolish reason, mere
pride. As it happens, there are legends of
heroes who swore blood feuds but then became
entangled in coils of love and so were forced
to recant their oaths--I am sure you can fill in
the details for yourself. Thus marriage to you would
provide a face-saving excuse for me.
Strange that it was your father and not I who thought
to roll you up in the treaty scroll."
She opened her mouth and then closed it quickly.
"Aha! You thought the match was my idea?"
"That was what I was told, but I thought it was
Lord Roland's."
"Durendal?" Radgar said scathingly. "No.
He has too much honor to sell a lady, but
he fetches when his master throws. It was your father's
idea. He was desperate to end the war, and
evidently he lied to you yet again. Well, I will
end it without you, I promise."
"Oh!" She stared hard at him, as if anyone
could read a killer's thoughts in his face. "You
swear that?" She could not have imagined this discussion in
a lifetime of nightmares.
"I swear that. You are free to go."
"You shame me!"
"I honor you, mistress. My father carried
off my mother by force, but I refuse to abuse a
woman so."
Fire flickered in those golden eyes.
"Indeed? What of the thousands you carry off
into slavery?"
"Except that. That is war, and I hate it.
I do truly intend to end it now, Princess, and
you need not be sold into slavery. I give you
back your freedom."
"You shame me!" she repeated uncertainly.
"I shame your father. Having shown the world how low
he will sink, I am content. Go in peace. You
need not breed pirate babies for a living."
Abandoning the unequal struggle, she bowed her
head and whispered, "I will obey Your Majesty's
c
ommand."
Radgar raised her hand to his lips. "My
loss, Princess. This was not a pleasant nor
an easy task. Take us in, helmsman."
"Yea, lord!" Leofric said angrily.
The old pirate had not lost his touch. In that
calm he could have moved Wracu by himself with just the
steering oar, but he nodded to the aft pair of rowers,
Aylwin and Oswald. Expertly the three of them
swung her around and backed her until her stern
nudged the end of the jetty with a barely detectable
bump. Radgar moved the steps into position and
held Malinda's hand to steady her as she
disembarked. For a moment she looked down at him
with a plaintive expression that made him want
to cut his own throat.
"Who knows, my lady, once peace has been
established between our two nations, what the future
may hold? I shall still need a wife, and you a
husband. I may yet press my suit on
honorable terms. I bid you good chance."
She blinked at him in confusion and then turned
to begin her lonely walk back to her own people. Her
two ladies in waiting had already gone. Some
Chivians who had ventured down to the jetty now
fled back up to safety, joining the crowd
struggling for a view. Wracu began to drift
away again.
"Steady as you can," Radgar said.
"You never had the least intention of taking that
girl!" Leofric snapped--not loudly, but
audible to at least some of the crew.
Radgar spared him a brief glance. "Not so."
"She wanted to come."
Then she should have said so more convincingly.
Receiving no answer, Leofric said, "She
despises her father!"
"So she should."
"You'll never find a better wife than she
would have made."
"It was a very close call."
The old warrior could not know that the finest string of
rubies in the entire world presently nestled in
Radgar's pocket, safely out of sight but
available had he needed a wedding present. He
did not produce it. He just forestalled further
argument by repeating, "Steady as you can,
helmsman."
Glaring but obedient, Leofric concentrated on
nudging the ship's bow around to meet the ripples,
making her as stable as possible. Up on the bank
the wedding guests were still babbling in amazement. There
must be some clever people among them, though, people who would
realize that no bride meant no wedding, no
wedding no treaty, no treaty no peace. In a
few seconds someone would start taking