Covenants (v2.2)

by Lorna Freeman

  “I recommend that Captains Suiden and Javes and their troops escort Ambassador Laurel and Chancellor Berle, Your Majesty,” Lord Commander Thadro said.

  I stared at the Lord Commander, stunned, as I’d been certain that our assignment would end as soon as I heard that Laurel was returning home. But, like the church at Gresh, the Lord Commander was removing the embarrassment of two obviously talent-touched troop units, one apprentice mage, and a ghost, from the instability caused by Teram’s failed rebellion. No matter Jusson’s avowed embracing of the magical. Then, as the meeting turned to the logistics of the trip, I saw Javes and Thadro speaking together, and realized that, also like the Gresh church, Thadro had just placed someone he trusted inside Chancellor Berle’s entourage. Wondering how that was all going to play out when they reached the Border, I glanced at Laurel Faena—and blinked at how he looked like the proverbial cat in the creamery as he worked out the details of our journey.

  Chapter Forty-six

  With the threat of war hanging over it, the military juggernaut moved swiftly and the troop was at the harbor docks that afternoon, milling about as we waited to board our ship. Laurel had disappeared earlier with Chancellor Berle and a man introduced as the dockmaster to inspect what was in Losan eso Dru’s warehouse. King Jusson had decreed that, as it was corrupt dock workers who had helped store the contraband, it would be dock workers who removed it and loaded it on the ship—after Laurel explained to them exactly what each piece was, and who it had once been a part of.

  I was staring out at a trio of graceful windriders anchored in the harbor, my mind on how to get out of going to the Border. Besides not wanting to be on a death ship for the three weeks’ journey, I was a runaway apprentice and the High Council wouldn’t care that I was a trooper in the Royal Army, thrice sworn to King Jusson IV. They’d give me over to Magus Kareste as soon as I stepped ashore—if he wasn’t there waiting for me himself.

  A commotion sounded behind me and I turned around. Admiral Noal was coming up the docks, accompanied by Lord Commander Thadro, Captains Suiden and Javes, Lieutenant Groskin, and—I closed my eyes and actually rubbed them before opening them wide—Ryson.

  “What the poxy hell?” I turned to Jeff standing next to me. “Did you know?”

  Jeff shook his head, his eyes also wide. “When the troop left the garrison he was still in the stockade.” The party saw me and veered my way as Jeff and I joined the rest of the troopers in standing at attention.

  “At ease,” Thadro said. He turned to the admiral next to him. “Admiral Noal, this is Lieutenant Lord Rabbit. You saw each other at the meeting but weren’t introduced.”

  Admiral Noal nodded at me, his eyes wandering over Basel. “Hello, Lieutenant. I know your uncle, Vice Admiral Havram ibn Chause, a fine officer.” What I murmured must have satisfied the admiral because he nodded again, then turned to the Lord Commander. “A few more details to settle, Thadro, and then we’ll be ready to start loading up.”

  “Go on ahead, Noal,” Thadro said. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  Admiral Noal looked at Groskin and Ryson, then back at me. “Sure, take your time.” He nodded once more and walked away toward the dock offices.

  “Captain Suiden, gather all the men together, please,” Thadro said and waited until we fell into formation in front of him. “Well?” he said to Groskin and Ryson, still standing by him.

  First Groskin, then Ryson, apologized to me and to the rest of the troops, just as if we all had a nursery squabble and were now being made to kiss and make up. I kept my head down the entire time and concentrated on how the water lapped against the hulls of the ships at dock, the cries of the gulls, and the smell of salt in the air.

  “Risking the part to save the whole, Lieutenant,” Suiden said after everyone had been dismissed. His fury was a physical force.

  I was having a hard time controlling my own anger. “I sodding didn’t mean this, sir. The only thing Ryson can call uncle is a mangy weasel. Why was he released?”

  “Because if we slap Groskin on the wrist, we have to do the same for Ryson,” Javes said, coming up to us, “as he’s guilty of the same thing—allowing his fear of magicals to make him act unwisely. Or so says Archdoyen Obruesk.”

  He growled the last part, his eyes yellow and hard. “The Lord Commander wants to see us, Suiden.”

  I did not watch the captains move off. Neither did I watch Groskin and Ryson standing over to the side. I walked over to where my new trunk lay in the shade of a building and sat down on it. (My old one was left behind just in case any Pale Deaths had taken up residence in it.)

  “Don’t they care?” Jeff asked as he followed. He made me scoot over and sat also. “I can see Groskin as he sort of lost it, but Ryson was Slevoic’s suck-up ever since the lieutenant came to Freston.”

  I made a sound of assent.

  “And they’re going to send him to the Border?”

  “Politics, Jeff,” I said. “The archdoyen is bucking against the king, maybe because of me or because of Dru, maybe both. Or maybe just because he thinks he can.” I remembered Obruesk’s glares at Laurel and me. “He doesn’t like Border folk much.”

  “They haven’t found Slevoic, have they?” Jeff asked after a moment.

  “No, not that I’ve heard.”

  “Think he met up with Gherat?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know.”

  Conversation petered out and we sat in silence, watching the shadows grow longer as the afternoon waned. After a while I heard another commotion and I stood. I could see Laurel Faena, accompanied by Chancellor Berle, coming towards us. Behind them was a long line of men pushing carts loaded high. I sat back down facing the water, as I did not want to see.

  “Lord Rabbit,” Chancellor Berle said from behind me.

  In politeness I stood again and turned, keeping my eyes on her face. “Yes, honored chancellor?”

  “Have you seen the Lord Commander?”

  “He went over there, Chancellor”—I pointed toward the dock offices—”along with Admiral Noal and Captains Suiden and Javes.”

  “Thank you.” The chancellor bowed and hurried off to the offices.

  “Are you all right, Rabbit?” Laurel asked, joining us.

  “No.” I nodded over to Ryson. “I’m not.”

  “Yes, Chancellor Berle told me,” the Faena said, also looking at the trooper. “But I am sure that between the captains, honored Jeffen, and me, the Fragrant One will not be able to harm you.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not afraid of him. I’m just damn mad that he’s free.” I focused back on Laurel. “And it doesn’t matter if he’s on the ship, as I’m not going. Magus Kareste would grab me as soon as I step ashore.”

  Laurel turned around and stared at me. So did Jeff and Basel. “You must go, Rabbit,” Laurel said. “I need you with me.” He waved a paw at the line of carts going past us. “I cannot handle this by myself. Besides, there’s your training.”

  “But the Magus—”

  “Do not worry about the Magus,” Laurel interrupted. “I will take care of him.”

  “Define ‘take care of,’ ” I said.

  “So young yet so suspicious.” Laurel chuffed. “Kareste will not ‘grab’ you. My oath on it.” He pointed at the red feather in my hair. “The covenant goes both ways, Rabbit. You are obligated to me, but I’m just as obligated to you.”

  I sighed, staring at my boots. If I’d known how much trouble the damn pact would turn out to be, I never would have eaten with the Faena. At this moment the back mountains above Freston had strong appeal. “You’re asking me to honor the covenant?”

  “Yes, and I will protect you.”

  I had opened my mouth to ask him how he was going to manage that, when—for the third time—I heard a commotion coming towards us. I turned and this time I saw King Jusson with an entourage heading our way. Someone must have been on the lookout because at that moment Lord Commander Thadro, Admiral Noal, Captains Suiden and Javes, and Chance
llor Berle emerged from the dock offices. They all changed direction to meet where Laurel and I stood.

  Jusson stopped and immediately disappeared from view.

  “Lord Commander.” The king’s voice came from behind a wall of King’s Own.

  “Sire, please,” Thadro said. “We just put down a rebellion. If you must come down here, let the guard protect you.”

  “I refuse to cower either in my palace or behind my guards,” Jusson said. “Move.” The guards reluctantly parted in front and the king came into view again. “Good, everyone is here,” Jusson said. He was smiling, but his eyes were gold as he looked around until he found Ryson. “We see that you’ve had another trooper restored to you, Captain Suiden.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Suiden said, his own eyes just as bright and hot.

  “I have informed Trooper Ryson, Your Majesty, what his fate would be if he were to backslide into old habits,” Thadro said. “At length and in great detail.”

  “Excellent.” The king looked at me. “You should know that Archdoyen Obruesk told the Lord Magistrate that Lord Teram’s rebellion grew out of the same fear that infected both Lieutenant Groskin and Trooper Ryson. He was so convincing that he had the Magistrate arguing with me to set Flavan free.”

  “The attempts on my life don’t matter, sire?” I asked.

  “No proof that he was involved, cousin. At this point all that can be proved is that Esclaur was poisoned in Flavan’s house during a party. Anyone could’ve done that. Or so says Obruesk.” The king shrugged. “And even if he did try to kill you, who could blame him with the threat of turning into an animal hanging over him? Again, says Obruesk.”

  “There was no threat—” I began.

  “Quite a little temper tantrum the archdoyen has thrown, Your Majesty,” Javes said over me, stepping on my foot.

  “Yes. I’ve sent a message to the patriarch, explaining that I’ll be attending the next church council meeting, and why. I believe that they will be appointing offices and I’ve sent His Holiness some suggestions.” Jusson’s look encompassed both Laurel and me. “There’s something about the two of you that makes normally sane people’s wits go fleeing.”

  “It’s a skill, honored king,” Laurel said.

  Jusson gave a short laugh. “Skill, indeed.”

  “So is the Lord Magistrate going to release Teram, Your Majesty?” I asked, moving my foot out from under Javes’ boot.

  “Oh, no. I explained to him that I didn’t care if the fires of hell were coming upon his lordship. Shooting arrows and waving swords at one’s king is totally unacceptable—and Teram’s hide, animal or human, is mine.” He then turned to Chancellor Berle while motioning, and Lord Esclaur stepped forward from the mob that stood behind him. “We have approved your embassy retinue, Chancellor Berle, and have only one addition. We have appointed Lord Esclaur ibn Dhawn e Jas as your aide.”

  Esclaur smiled faintly at the chancellor.

  “Also, we have turned down your request for embassy guards. Captains Suiden and Javes and their men will act in that capacity until a permanent ambassador is chosen.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Chancellor Berle was wearing her high stakes game face. “And servants?”

  “Supplied from the royal household,” Jusson said. He waited for her bow and murmured thanks before turning to Suiden. “Captain Suiden, the success of this mission rests on you and your men, as much as it does on Chancellor Berle. So it is very important that you put your troop back together so that it functions as a unit again.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Suiden replied, his own face blank.

  Jusson sighed. “Did I ever tell you, Captain, that as prince I served in the navy?”

  “No, Your Majesty.”

  “I found it to be a very enlightening experience. The well-being of the ship depended on all crew members being able to work together as a whole.”

  “My men aren’t sailors, Your Majesty,” Suiden said.

  “No, but you are, Captain Prince.”

  Suiden became still.

  “You see that ship in the middle?” Jusson pointed to the largest of the three windriders in the harbor.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Suiden whispered, staring out over the water.

  “It’s yours.”

  “Mine.”

  “For this trip to the Border, you are her captain. Lord Admiral Noal has outfitted her with an experienced crew, but they all answer to you.” Jusson paused, and although Suiden said nothing, the king smiled. “You have approximately three weeks until you reach the Border. Use your time on her wisely.”

  I too stared over the water at the middle ship. As both a bribe and a palliative to ease the pain of taking back Groskin and Ryson, she was magnificent, her graceful lines evident even to my ignorant gaze. I glanced at Captain Suiden, who did not take his eyes off the windrider. Sometimes making a virtue out of necessity was a very easy thing.

  “Sire,” Lord Commander Thadro said softly, looking behind the king.

  Jusson quickly turned around. “Oh, blast and rot it! What now?” The troopers and dock workers parted, bowing low in reverence as they hadn’t for King Jusson, making way for Patriarch Pietr, his penitent sacking and shaven head covered by his robe and hat of office. Following him were Doyen Allwyn, and bringing up the rear, Archdoyen Obruesk, minus his staff.

  The patriarch stopped in front of King Jusson. “Please forgive my intrusion, Your Majesty, but I’ve been looking for you and was told you were here. I’ve come to make a request.”

  “Yes, Your Holiness?” Jusson asked.

  The patriarch gestured for the clergy to come forward. “As the Holy Church has been involved, however unwittingly, in the horrors perpetrated against the Border, I would like to send Doyen Allwyn with the emissary so he can speak to the Border High Council about the Church making restitution.”

  “Of course, Your Holiness,” Jusson said, “But isn’t he going through purification?”

  “He can fast and pray on the ship just as well as anywhere else,” Patriarch Pietr replied. He gestured again, this time harder, and Archdoyen Obruesk, who had hung back, dragged himself forward. “I also ask to include the archdoyen—”

  It became very quiet.

  “—as he has shown much interest in recent events. This way he can witness them firsthand and gain greater understanding of the consequences of the sin of pride and what happens when one thrusts oneself where he has no authority.” Obruesk’s position apparently wasn’t as strong as he thought. Or the patriarch’s was stronger.

  “Of course, Your Holiness,” Jusson said again, showing that he had his own game face.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. You are most generous.” The patriarch turned to Thadro. “It has come to my attention, Lord Commander, that you do not have a chaplain going with you.”

  “No, Your Holiness. There hasn’t been time to look for one.”

  The patriarch nodded. “I understand. Things have been moving very quickly.” He smiled, a baring of his teeth. “May I recommend the archdoyen?”

  The patriarch’s was a much, much stronger position.

  “Uh—” Thadro said as I struggled not to let my mouth fall open. “I’m sure that if he chooses to conduct services—”

  “No, Lord Commander,” the patriarch said. “This will be another way for him to gain understanding of what it means to—how do you call it? Follow the chain of command. Let him fill the office of chaplain with all its attendant duties.”

  “Yes, of course,” Thadro said, his voice a little faint.

  “Thank you.” The patriarch raised his brows. “What rank will he have?”

  “Has he been in the army at all, Your Holiness?”

  “No, Lord Commander.”

  “Captain, then. But it’s a noncommand commission.”

  “You mean that no one has to obey him?” More teeth showed in the patriarch’s smile.

  “No—I mean, yes, that’s right.”

  “But he has to obey
the others?”

  “In military matters, yes.”

  “Which are?”

  “What the other officers say they are,” Thadro replied.

  The patriarch’s smile was so wide that his eyes were narrow slits. He turned to the archdoyen. “What a wonderful learning experience this will be for you.”

  Chapter Forty-seven

  I tried once more to convince Laurel to release me from the covenant and let me stay in Iversterre, but he again swore to me—in front of Jusson—that he would not allow Magus Kareste to take me, and Jusson stated that he couldn’t have an unschooled mage running wild in the Royal City.

  “I cannot chance it, cousin,” the king said. “Every day it seems that something else pops up.” His gaze rested a moment on my braid and feather, then dropped to the rune on my palm. “And I cannot like what happens when one comes in contact with that.”

  I opened my mouth to explain that I didn’t go around touching people on purpose, but Laurel spoke before I did. “It is like getting ambushed, no? But with training, Lord Rabbit will be able to control its, hmm, side effects. Which I hope to be able to do during this trip.”

  Jusson grinned at my expression. “Well, I am your king as well as your cousin and I command you to go with the Faena cat.” His grin became sharper at my continued expression. “We took Ambassador Laurel’s word that he could keep our emissary to the Border safe, and now he’s swearing the same for you. Are you saying that his word is no good?”

  All of a sudden I was responsible for the peace process.

  Captain Suiden walked up at that moment. “What’s the matter, Lieutenant?”

  “Captain Prince.” The king sighed. “Threaten one of your men and you become all teeth and claws.” I smiled at the memory of Slevoic’s terror when he defied the captain and found himself facing the dragon. Then an older memory rose of Dragoness Moraina arguing with a mage, who decided to make his point by hurling a powerful spell right between honored Moraina’s eyes. I also remembered his subsequent extreme discomfort when Moraina easily swatted it away. I gave the captain a speculative look.