This was a part of his mission. Butter her up enough to return her to Father Francois with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. Whatever the Holy Father planned for her, her being in a good mood would most likely assist.
“Stanton Rainier, the fifth son of the Marquis of York, from Cumberland. Am I correct so far?”
“Yes,” Stanton said through gritted teeth.
“You accepted a minor position at Orsini Cathedral.”
“I was Guard Lieutenant with the Cathedral guard,” Stanton said. “My job was to escort cardinals and the like travelling around the area.”
The Contessa nodded. “Yes, I remember now. Your first ever assignment was to escort Cardinal Rupert, as he was known then, plus the current Holy Father at the time, Father Otto. And who you thought were two cardinals.”
Stanton said nothing. He hated this story so much, and he hated even more how they’d exaggerated it over the years. He was not the hero they wanted him to be. If they only knew the humiliating truth of it all: that he had been so scared throughout it all. That he’d pissed himself when the second charge came. That the nightmares never completely faded. There was no healing talisman nor apothecary ointment that could make the inner turmoil go away. He grimaced and waited for her to continue.
“Bandits attacked the caravan and you were the only guard to survive.”
“Three others did,” Stanton insisted.
“They died. You did not,” she said, and her voice was surprisingly gentle. “You managed to hide the priests for two weeks and protected them against repeated attempts to find you.”
Stanton rolled his eyes. “Four days. We were in the hills for four days. We found a village and sent for help. It was another week before we were all back at Orsini.”
“Seven plus four is, oh…eleven days, so let’s compromise and say a week and a half.”
“It was only four days that I was in any real danger,” Stanton insisted.
“Was the village attacked by the bandits while you were there?”
He stared at her for a beat before looking away. He didn’t say anything. So many villagers lost their lives when the bandits followed them there. He tried to organize them, help protect them, but…
“Ah,” she said, all playfulness gone from her voice. “I suppose the memories are not as pleasant for you to remember as it is for the rest of us to recite. I will stop.”
He didn’t want it to end on a sour note, so he said, “You haven’t gotten to the best part of the story yet, so keep going.”
“All right. You eventually arrived back at the Cathedral and discovered, no doubt to your horror, that you’d been escorting the King of Cumberland all that time. He had been travelling to Sutherland to secretly negotiate a peace treaty, which is why your caravan was attacked. The bandits were in fact assassins sent to murder the king.”
He’d yelled at the king several times during their flight. At one point, Stanton had screamed at the man to keep his head down and not say a word or he’d leave him behind. He thought he was dealing with a cardinal who’d never picked up a sword in his life. He had no idea he had an actual king, a member of royalty, with him dressed in robes and a fancy hat.
“Horror really is the appropriate word when I found out. You can also add in liquid bowels and sour stomach.”
Allegra pressed a hand against her corseted torso and gasped for air, all the while laughter continued to spill from her. “I can only imagine. That’s when the Cathedral awarded you their highest honor: the Sword of Tasmin. Oh, that is why you don’t wear your honors on your uniform! I wondered where your medals had gone.”
“I only wear them at functions and balls,” he said flatly. “But go on, keep going. You’re not done yet.”
“Are you certain? All right. The King of Cumberland was so grateful for your life, and that the act of saving his life allowed peace to be negotiated, he created a new title just for you for the length of your lifetime.”
Stanton rolled his eyes once more. “The title is actually hereditary.”
“Is it indeed? How lucky for your descendants! And how much land did you get with the appointment?”
Stanton grimaced. “I got Barrington House and its nine thousand acres of land.”
“Modest by many measures, but I’m sure you’re making due,” the Contessa said, grinning.
“Not all of us can own most of Marsina county.”
“Tut, this isn’t about me.”
Stanton leaned forward. “Let’s make it about you. Tell me, Contessa, why does one woman have so much land?”
“Because I am very good at business,” she said.
“And was business made easier by who you are?”
“Absolutely. You have to spend money to make money. It’s significantly easier to do so when you were born rich. So, why did you lie to me?”
“I didn’t lie,” he said quickly. Damn, she was better at this than he was. “I left off the truth.”
“A lie of omission is still a lie in the eyes of the Almighty, is it not?”
He gave her a hard glare. “I’d like to think the Almighty understands.”
“But even your name is a lie! We should call you Captain Stanton, but you use Rainier because everyone knows the name Lieutenant Stanton who saved the Holy Father, and if I were to meet a Cathedral guard named Captain Stanton…” A soft chuckle escaped her throat. “You are a hero in the eyes of everyone. Even in my eyes, and I’m not easily impressed.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “Do you have any idea what that is like for me? Whenever I enter a room to give advice, it’s no longer about security measures and military matters. It is about a young, foolish boy who dragged four injured men through the woods. It is how I carried on my back the King of Cumberland, thinking he was a Cardinal, who’d taken an arrow in the calf. It is all about that, and nothing else.” Stanton drew in a breath. “And getting ideas about matching their unwed children to me…or starting an illicit affair.”
“Ah. You saw that I was around your age, unwed, and assumed I would also be like that.”
“Yes,” he said honestly, without any shame in his voice.
“I am not like that,” she said.
“I know. Now.”
She grinned at him. “We have finally found common ground, Captain. Being embarrassingly wealthy, titled, and unwed at my age, well, you can only imagine how many potential suitors are thrown at me at every turn. Father Michael has to practically beat away mothers and their younger sons whenever they come to the abbey. I once had a mother trip her son so that he’d fall and grab my breasts. However, his fingernails weren’t trimmed, so he scratched me and I had tiny droplets of blood all over my lace for the rest of the evening.”
“I was at a ball where a woman tripped me so that I would fall at her sister’s feet. I learned that evening that some ladies do not wear undergarments under their gowns.”
Laughter burst out from Allegra. “Oh, Captain.”
“I was young and inexperienced.” He looked up at her, waiting for the barb.
It didn’t come. She smirked, so he knew she had an inappropriate comment on her tongue, but she swallowed it down. Instead, she said, “Do you read books, Captain?”
“Books?”
“Yes, books. Do you know of them?”
“A few minutes ago, I introduced myself as the Duke of Barrington, and now you’re asking if I know what a book is. Contrary to what you lowlanders think, we northerners are quite sophisticated and literate.” He was happy she wanted to change the subject, and was eager to discuss just about any topic with her that was not his supposed heroics. “You mentioned you were in Cumberland once. Why?”
****
Allegra’s smile twitched before it faded. She considered not telling Rainier about her trip, but he’d told her his identity. She decided a filtered version of her adventures in Cumberland would satisfy the trade of stories, and she could leave off the parts w
here she was irretrievably traumatized and put on her current path of solitude.
“I was there on tour with my second cousin, Katerina. She was a bit older than me, so it was a chance to get me out into the world. My father had escorted us and the plan was we ladies were going to stay for four months with a distant relation of Katerina’s future husband, the Prince of Almsburg.”
“How did you enjoy my homeland?”
Allegra’s smile twitched again, but she mustered up a false visage of contentment. “What I saw of it was very nice. I didn’t travel much while there.”
“Well, what did you see, outside of a ballroom, of course.”
“My father took me for a tour of an elemental mining island.”
Rainier raised his dark eyebrows. “He took you to Basina Island?”
Allegra nodded weakly.
“How old were you?”
“Twelve.”
“That must have been hard on you, being a mage.”
“My magic hadn’t come in fully, and I was still in denial, thinking the odd events around me were accidents. The trip, though. That…I didn’t tell anyone about my magic until I was fourteen because of that damned trip.”
“I’ve heard Basina is horrible on elemental witches.” He cleared his throat. “Mages.”
Allegra looked out of her window. Horrible was an understatement. There were no words in any of the languages she knew that could detail the atrocities she’d witnessed. When she realized she was an elemental, she knew she could trust no one in her family with that secret. As much as she loved her parents, she was relieved when they died, for she was safe from them. When the mantel of power passed to her, with the rank and wealth of her title, she added extra layers of protection. As long as she didn’t reveal herself to others.
“Basina Island should be an abomination in the eyes of the Almighty,” Allegra said coldly. “Instead, the halls of the Cathedral are decorated in its gold filigree.”
“Why do you care? I mean, you’re not an elemental.”
Allegra lied about being an elemental so much that she could sometimes even forget she was one. She certainly didn’t flinch at these kinds of questions. Instead, she channeled all of her disgust into her voice, a natural consequence of her true emotions needing some release.
“How very humane of society to allow me to escape the iron and the ink. It wouldn’t matter if I was an elemental or even just a plain everyday person. One accusation is all that was needed and I could have ended up there. A little girl, ripped from her family.” Allegra looked up at him. “So, after that delightful and very informative visit, I saw little else of Cumberland. I was too terrified to leave my bedroom.”
She looked out of the carriage window. She’d seen a few of the brandings while she was at Basina. She’d seen so much more than that; she had no words for what she witnessed until she was much older. Dehumanizing didn’t even begin to describe it. Neither did cruel. Unspeakable didn’t even approach the horrors.
Mages had to be registered with an approved school to be allowed to live free and unshackled. There were limited provisions to purchase one’s own freedom once enslaved, for a mage was dangerous. The free were tattooed to show they were free, wearing the stamp of their school’s name or other identifiers. Slaves, however…
Memories from Basina cropped up in her mind. A hunk of wood. Screaming boys and girls. A branding iron in the blacksmith’s fire. Shaved heads. Bare necks. Hands everywhere. Futile struggles.
She closed her eyes and gulped. All of those children were dead by now. Even if she became Arbiter, she could not rescue them. She doubted she could rescue the ones who lived there now. No one would allow her to release these supposed elementals. Considering their lack of training and the horrific mistreatments they’ve all suffered under, perhaps they were now too dangerous to be in the world no matter who or what they were. Lord Almighty knew the world deserved whatever wrath those poor people would rain down upon their enemies if freed.
Rainier cleared his throat and said, “This is obviously a sensitive subject for you. I apologize for bringing it up.”
“The Viscount of Stromly and the rest will be far more invasive and offensive if I were to take the position. Your queries only remind me why I should not accept the job.” Allegra turned her cold stare to him. “So, please, don’t hold back.”
“You still plan to turn him down?”
“I dislike the public eye,” Allegra said, matter-of-factly. It was not a lie.
“You would honestly decline His Holiness’s request for you to act on behalf of the Cathedral?”
Allegra scoffed. “I’m not even religious. Why would I care to act for the faithful?”
“I don’t know how anyone can be a disbeliever.”
“Not everyone believes in the Almighty, Captain.”
“I realize that. Some people will believe in their own gods and beliefs, but they still believe. I think the Almighty doesn’t care so much what path a person follows, so long as they live good lives and honor their own gods.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“You have no beliefs.”
“That is quite a statement,” Allegra said.
“How am I supposed to know that you have any moral code?”
“Captain, I have met enough people in my life to know that any artificial moral code handed down from a pulpit can easily be justified away for the smallest reasons. Likewise, can justify the most horrific transgressions.”
“Contessa, are you planning to argue with me this entire trip?”
“Maybe. I hope you have the stamina for such an encounter. I can be a very eager debater. I do hope you can rise to the challenge.”
Rainier choked back a laugh. “I think you will find I am immune to most of your charms.”
“Oh,” Allegra said. After a moment, she said, “I have a friend who is bishop at the Cathedral. Perhaps you’d like to meet him. He has many of the same beliefs as you seem to possess. He’s quite handsome.”
“What? Why would I…Oh! Um, no, I mean, no thank you. I appreciate the offer, but it isn’t necessary.” At Allegra’s silence, he said, “I was only attempting to…Lord give me strength…what I’m trying to say is that I enjoy wom—I mean, I like women.”
“That was quite a lot of hesitation there. Would you like to discuss your feelings further? Are you sure you like women?”
“I’m sure,” Rainier said flatly. When she couldn’t contain her giggles anymore, he said accusingly, “You did all that on purpose.”
“It was my own way to see if you were interested in women.”
“Women, yes. You, increasingly not,” he said, though he said it with a smile.
Allegra’s laughter only died away when an arrow embedded itself into the side of the carriage and she began to scream.
Chapter 7
One moment, Lex was laughing at Dodd’s exaggerated and animated retelling of the tavern fight to Mrs. Ansley’s footman; a retelling made all the more impressive because Dodd was on horseback. The next, heavily-armed soldiers approached them from the west and north. Three warning arrows were released into the air even as Lex drew their sword.
One of the arrows embedded itself into the Contessa’s carriage. Her screams were deafening. Her coachman snapped the reins on her coach and four. The beasts’ hooves thundered down Cathedral’s Way. Lex kicked their horse and galloped to keep pace with the Contessa’s carriage.
Dodd shouted at the footman, “Protect Mrs. Ansley!”
Lex did a mental calculation, all the while keeping their head as low as possible, trusting the horse. There were only six members of the Consorts with the carriage on horseback, and two were inexperienced. In addition, Mrs. Ansley had two footmen: one on top of the carriage and the other seated with her coachman. Lex had no knowledge of their experience level.
The footman perched on top of her carriage fumbled with a canister strapped to the rooftop of the
moving carriage. Lex assumed it was a bow, or perhaps a small, magical device to strengthen the horses or protect the carriage. Whatever it was, the footman’s efforts were in vain. The horses charged at full-speed; it was all any of them could do but hold on for dear life.
Security and protections had all been prearranged that morning, just in case of trouble. Nevertheless, Lex’s heart pounded painfully at the unfolding situation. Lex and Martin were to back up Rainier as he protected the Contessa. Dodd, and the remaining guards, along with the footmen, were to stay with Mrs. Ansley.
Lex instinctively ducked as more warning shots whizzed overhead. Lex channeled all of their training into keeping nerves in check and to stay on mission. There was no need to look back, for the pounding hooves and shouting of men was more than enough detail for the situation. If Captain Rainier didn’t tell Lex to stop, then they weren’t stopping.
“Mrs. Ansley, get down on the floor!” Dodd was shouting in the midst of issuing commands to Mrs. Ansley’s coachman and the other guard. “Lex, who are these assholes?”
“No idea,” Lex shouted back over the pound of hooves.
Lex’s horse was frothing and snorting from the exertion, and the coach horses were thundering down the road as fast as their lungs and legs could make them go. They couldn’t keep up this pace for long.
Cavalry came out from the woods along the roadside. Heavy-armored, dangerous, and all wearing tabards with Queen’s Portia’s heraldry. Was the local militia attacking them? They were Cathedral guards; no military would dare touch them.
Lex tightened their grip on the reins until their knuckles went white. Lex had lived through the Orsini Riots a year ago, and had taken a few lives defending the city from rioters. They could do it again.
Lex concentrated on those experiences and drew strength from the knowledge they’d been in tight spots before. Lex glanced once more at the horsemen riding through the trees and across the fields back into the small clumps of wooded areas. Lex had never fought in a real battle before. Lex’s heart pounded faster at that, but they shook off their thoughts. Right now, the only important thing was to…
The Demons We See Page 10