Mordon of Widley
Page 35
Raeah had whispered the name of a madam she trusted to help Mordon. How Raeah had known the name of a Portsmouth madam was immaterial. Raeah’s last words to him would never be forgotten. The trip to Portsmouth, and a visit to the madam in question, had started wheels in motion. He had had to leave a rather sizable pile of diamonds from the first bag, but the woman had kept her word. The people and goods she said would arrive did, and kept coming. He would have to visit Justine when he made another trip to Portsmouth with Captain Groden. Groden now owned four Barques, and was looking at another.
He turned to look back toward the castle. New buildings were being erected by the large groups of masons and carpenters who had come from the mainland. Among the first to arrive had been a man who planned and designed buildings. The moment he had seen the piles of rubble, he had grinned from ear to ear, and his excitement hadn’t diminished in the least in the last three years. Ben Brighten was a good man.
Mordon looked back to the cleared area, and watched a portly woman walking his direction along what used to be Taylow Ave. Sometime in the future, it would be a street once more. When she stopped in front of him, she patted the perspiration from her forehead with the corner of her apron and smiled, asking a question.
“I’ve come to start an eatery. Not just any old eatery, we’ll serve food fit for the king of Widley. His ship’s captain told me I might find the bloke in the castle. My wagons and helpers are clear out on the damn road because there ain’t streets wide enough to bring the wagons in. What kind’a king don’t even build streets so decent folk can come and go when they want? Tell me, young man, where can I find the king and who do I talk to so’s I can get my eatery built?”
Mordon smiled at the woman and pointed to Ben, “That man right there will design your building, just tell him what you require, and pick a place you both can agree upon. You can move into the kitchen of the castle until your eatery is built. Oh . . . and by the way, I’m the king; Mordon is my name.” The flustered woman curtseyed, and moved away without a by your leave. He’d ask Simp to shift some men to clearing a street to the castle or find a way for all her belongings to reach the kitchen.
Mordon couldn’t help but smile as the generously proportioned woman retreated. When he looked back towards where they had been working, Lizbeth stood before him, looking no different than when he last saw her in the valley. She wore the same grey long flared robe she had worn then. “Lizbeth, I am so glad to see you. Thank you for coming when I asked.”
“How can a person refuse a reigning king? I came as quickly as the weather, and my legs, could bring me to answer your summons.”
Mordon couldn’t stop smiling at the woman, “Summons . . . I distinctly remember my letter asking you, no begging you, to come help me get organized. If you will be my minister of justice, as well as advisor, I will be always in your debt.” Mordon was surprised when she strode forward and took his dirty body in a hug that lasted for seconds. She spoke to him, still clinging to his waist.
“If a minister of justice is what you need, I am at your disposal. Where can I live in this place?”
“The castle, of course, my chamber is no longer the cistern tower, but the first chamber on the right at the head of the stairs. Pick any chamber across the hall and have the men working inside move whatever furniture you wish from storage into your room.” Mordon gently squeezed her shoulders. “I’m glad you are here, Lizbeth.” He motioned with his head, “The man over there with his new recruits from Haverid’s border guards will be even happier to see you. He’s been a pest, whining relentlessly about having to work when his woman was all alone.” His teasing made her glow with pride and love; it was a wonderful sight. Mordon lifted his head and saw Tess with a young boy at her side. He looked back to Lizbeth’s upturned face, “Did she come with you, or alone?”
“Alone, haw! Tess wanted to come in first and test the waters. There are 15 other women waiting on the road, afraid of how you will react to them and your children.”
He had thought of Tess many times in the last four years. Over those same years, the others had melted away from his memory. Simper had made the trek several times but there was just too much to do here in Widley for him to leave; the last time he had seen Tess she wasn’t very happy with him. Mordon gently pushed the woman back, “Fifteen . . . and they are all mine?”
“The women think so, don’t treat them unkindly, Mordon. They all speak of you to their children with pride and love. I know it poses a problem, but treat them with respect until they find men they can love.”
“Yes . . . of course, I wish to greet them, and my children, but first I must speak with Tacindra.”
Lizbeth griped his arm as he moved to leave her, whispering, “Tess loves you the most, Mordon. She has been a good mother to the boy.”
“Thank you, Lizbeth.” Mordon walked to where Tess stood, and kissed her cheek. The memory of her running away from him on the ridge flitted through his thoughts. She was wearing her soft leathers and carried her weapons, just as he had remembered. He reached down, picked up his son, and held him high. “What’s your name, young man?”
“Mordon, Mum says it’s your name too.”
“That it is, son,” Mordon sat his son on his shoulder and beamed his welcome to Tess. “If you’ll have me, I want you to be my queen, Tess.” Mordon had to hold her arm to keep her from falling.
“Have you . . . I’ve never let you go. When Simper came back to the valley and told us Princess Raeah was dead . . . I wanted to rush to your side, but was afraid. I almost did not come with Lizbeth and the others. I knew you needed time to heal. I’ve waited for this moment a long time Mordon. If . . . if I must become a queen to get you, then a queen I’ll be.” Tess looked down at herself and blushed. “All I have to wear are my hunting clothes. Will you let me be your queen and wear such clothing?”
Mordon drew her tight to his body and kissed her face and lips. Young Mordon’s squirming, and giggles, made him stop. “I may regret saying this, but you may wear whatever you wish.” He added a caveat, “At dinners of state and special occasions, perhaps you will be willing to wear something with a little more frill. We can have the seamstress make something of a material you fancy.”
“I’ll wear anything, or nothing, as you request.” She held him so tightly her arms ached. She finally let him go and stepped back. “There are some others who need your attention as well. I fear one or two of them may desire what you have given me.”
“They may desire, but my heart has been lost to only two women in my life, and one of them died for the rest of us. The other woman I ever loved was brave enough to come to me with my child in hand. She is the one I will love for the rest of my life.”
Mordon drew Tess along with him as he walked down the cluttered path leading to the roadway beyond Widley. He carried his son on his shoulder, and kept his queen-to-be tucked tightly to his side. He knew without a doubt Raeah would be smiling if she could see his new family. Cutter came running from behind, and followed alongside Mordon.
The end . . . maybe
Other books by
M.C. Stiller
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Mordon of Widley