I considered that a moment. “Why did you leave?”
The corner of his mouth twisted wryly. “I was never entirely welcome.” A world of hurt echoed in that simple statement.
“Surely you had someone. You mentioned a friend, once. A fisherman’s son.”
His voice softened slightly at the memory. “Aaron. We grew up together, trained together.”
Part of me wanted to ask about the sister, the love that had so wounded him, but I knew better. “Your home is on the coast, then?”
“Yes. A small village called Esens.”
“Are they all fighters like you?”
That pulled a smirk from him. “It’s Tuvria, miss. Every boy trains from the time he can lift a sword.” I felt a bit foolish for asking. “But no. Those who stay make their living on the sea rather than the battlefield.”
“Those who stay?”
“Many are like me, and leave at sixteen to serve with one of the independent companies. The pay is better, if you can survive the training.” I eyed him sidelong at that. My own experience had been a grueling endeavor. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the brutality of a Tuvrian garrison.
“How did you come to serve my father?”
“We were on contract to escort a merchant caravan to Litheria out of Lettigallina, camped in Estia just outside one of the villages. I was on watch when I heard the shouting. One of the nearby sheepfolds was being raided in the night.” He hesitated. “It woke the whole company, flames and screaming and chaos. I pressed my captain to let a few of us ride to their aid, but he refused.” Blue eyes met mine. “We could have killed the bandits easily. We could have saved those people. But instead, I followed orders and watched from the next hill as they were slaughtered like animals.”
I remained silent, returning his gaze with careful neutrality.
He looked away. “The next morning, as we broke camp, I saw your father’s envoy ride up to the smoldering ruins of the farm. I resigned my commission then and there.” He swallowed, jaw tight, brow knitting at the memory. “When I submitted myself to his judgment, your father agreed to accept my service under one condition: that I never stand idly by while others suffered.”
The crossroads. Understanding hit me like a wave. He saw the revelation on my face.
“To my people, the disgrace of desertion is an irreparable transgression. When I abandoned my company, I left everything I’d ever known - everything I’d ever been - behind. He gave me a new life. A home.” He paused, chewing his cheek. “At the crossroads, I spat on that gift. Not only did I betray my oath as a Tuvrian, when I killed in anger, but also my oath to your father, when I chose to stand by and do nothing.” A chasm of guilt lay buried beneath those words.
“But you did act,” I countered gently.
His mouth twisted into a bitter smirk. “When you were threatened. Not before.”
There was nothing I could say to erase the truth of it. I remembered his pointed stare across the clearing. Don’t get involved.
“What’s done is done,” I said firmly. “We cannot change the past, only learn from it.”
A short, humorless laugh escaped his lips. “That’s nearly word for word what he said to me.”
The memory of his voice echoed in my mind, bittersweet. “It was one of his favorites. I heard it often as a child when I’d get into trouble for fighting or throwing mud.”
After a brief silence, he pressed on solemnly. “I didn’t deserve to stay in your father’s service. I told him as much when we made it back to Litheria.”
“He wouldn’t dismiss you,” I countered with certainty. I knew my father. He had respected his oath-sworn Tuvrian’s skill and judgment well enough to entrust my safety to him. That alone evidenced my father’s regard for him more than any words ever could.
“No, but he insisted I return to Tuvria and face the judgment of my people.”
That caught me by surprise. “I thought that was your idea.”
Quintin favored me with a wry smile. “Call it a mutual understanding.”
I considered whether or not to ask him about the details of his repentance. It still seemed too private a subject, though, so I resigned myself to silence as our horses ambled along down the road.
“You could still return home, you know,” I said after a long while. “To Tuvria, if not Esens.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “And leave you in the hands of that untrained boy? Not likely.”
“I’ve other guards,” I pointed out. “And with Selice around, her Queen’s Guard is plenty capable.”
“And loyal to her, not you.”
“Samson could supply someone. I’m sure he has a number of capable soldiers at his disposal who would jump at an easy assignment.”
He balked incredulously. “Is that what you think you are? An easy assignment? You’d find some idiot way to get yourself killed inside a month if I left.”
“You could have a life,” I pressed, ignoring his insults. “A family. You’re young, and not entirely offensive to look at,” I teased lightly. He snorted and shook his head. “Go find an obedient Tuvrian wife and have some children.” I’d seen him with Patrick. He would make a good father, given the chance. I still wondered, at times, why he had stayed. “You don’t owe me anything,” I insisted more gently. “You have repaid your debt to my father many times over by now.”
Thoughts churned as he drew his careful composure back into place, avoiding my gaze. “I’m not leaving.”
It was clear his mind was made up on the matter, and no amount of suggestion would persuade him otherwise. Deep down, I was relieved, despite my jests. When I’d dismissed him from the service of my House, I’d tried to do the honorable thing. He deserved to make his own choice, now that my father was gone. I’d tried to free him from the shameful weight of my reckless dishonor. Keeping me safe was a burden he’d never wanted, and it had cost him dearly. It was the right thing to do, to let him go, but it had made me feel terribly alone and afraid. I’d come to rely on his presence like a part of my own body; my scowling shadow, always there, always on guard.
“Please stop asking me to leave,” he added quietly, his voice interrupting my thoughts. “I’ve made my choice.”
I swallowed hard, my chest aching. He wouldn’t meet my gaze, masked face fixed on the path before us. “I’m glad you’re here,” I said honestly.
Valor twitched one ear, blowing out his nose.
Will was less than pleased when I told him I’d be sending him with Samson to the garrison for training. To his credit, he swallowed the majority of his protests when I pointed out that I needed another capable sword at my disposal and not just a courier. In the end, he went without complaint and rode out with Samson and a few others less than a week later.
Troops began filtering in, and Elliot and I had our hands full coordinating between Reyus and the various leaders of each company. Once a chain of command was established, it fell to us to see to supply lines and catalog every resource each group brought with them. For the most part, they had arrived fairly self-sufficient, for which I was grateful, but what food they’d brought with them was short-term at best. The stores we’d accumulated would be crucial in the months to come.
I continued my daily exercises, drawing some stares as Valor and I worked with my new bow in the fields outside the manor wall, but there was nothing for it. I’d not forgo my training for the sake of a few uncomfortable eyes. With the arrival of the new troops, Quintin began joining me in the fields each day. They were our men, surely, but men nonetheless. He’d not leave me unguarded among strangers.
To pass the time, he tried his own hand at shooting from the saddle. Our roles reversed for once, I gave him pointers as he made pass after pass on his stalwart gelding. Though he improved with practice, it was far from the style to which he had been trained and eventually, he resigned himself to shooting from the ground. He was born to the sword, and I to the saddle. It was in our blood, no matter how we tried to make ourselves ot
herwise.
Spring wore on and summer approached, and those of us on Selice’s council could not help but grow anxious as the days passed. Samson returned alone and we closeted ourselves in the salon for one final meeting.
“How many?” he asked Reyus across the table.
Lord Oristei’s solemn disposition set me on edge from the start. “Less than we’d hoped, but no more than I’d expected. Three thousand infantry, plus your cavalry.”
“Every lord from Agen to Vitri is asking for more time,” Selice said with frustration, tossing a letter onto the table.
“We cannot afford to wait.” Reyus was firm. “Scouts are reporting Persican ships in the Bay of Brothers. The first wave of their army could reach Litheria before us if we don’t move now.”
“If that happens,” Samson chimed in. “Then we lose our advantage and find ourselves woefully outnumbered.”
“How soon can we march?” she asked, looking to Elliot and me.
“We’ve enough supplies to set out immediately, Majesty.” I let him speak for us both. “Those that are still coming in can be sent after.”
“Excellent work,” she commended. We both bowed our thanks. Drawing herself up, she looked to the map. “I’ll gather my things and we’ll leave at dawn.”
The rest of us exchanged a concerned glance, but it was Reyus who spoke up, senior among us in rank. “Your Majesty, it is crucial that you remain here until we’ve reached the city and can more accurately gauge the terrain.”
A muscle in her jaw twitched. “I should be there to reclaim my throne, Lord Oristei.”
“You will,” he reassured. “But not until I can ensure it is safe.”
“We are at war, my lord.” Her cool voice cut the air. “You are mistaken to think anywhere is safe.”
“Here is safe,” he pressed. “And our force is limited at best. If we have misjudged the situation, we do not have enough men to protect you.”
She gestured toward the encampment outside the manor walls. “Those men are here to fight for me. I’ll not hide here in luxury while they are dying in my name.”
I loved her a bit, then, my brave and stubborn queen, but Reyus was right. “If we lose you, we lose everything, Majesty.” My voice split the air between them, quiet but firm.
Those golden eyes turned on me, the intensity wearing on my resolve.
“Please, my queen. You must trust us in this.” It was Samson who chimed in next.
“I will escort you to the front myself when the time is right,” her captain promised.
She looked us over, and I watched her battle internally. In the end, to our collective relief, she deferred to our counsel, though unhappily.
I made an attempt to lift her spirits. “We will send reports as often as possible. As soon as we are in position at the city gates, we will send for you.”
Her golden brows raised. “Surely you aren’t under the impression that you will be setting out with the army tomorrow.”
The air in the room grew thick and uncomfortable. I tried to hold my ground. “House Lazerin is contributing a third of the armed forces to this endeavor, my queen. I will see my men into battle.”
A bitterness surfaced in her face. She struggled to suppress it and was not entirely successful. “Your cavalry has Commander Samson to lead it. Why should you ride to war when I do not?”
“With all due respect, my lady, I know how to handle a sword.”
She bristled. “You will not leave this estate, Lady Lazerin, until I do.”
My own temper rose, and I yearned to shout at her, but I had a lifetime of my mother’s training and I knew when to swallow my words. Selice was my queen, and I had sworn myself to her.
Why does she really want you to stay? My mother’s voice surfaced in my mind.
I forced my temper to the side and observed my young monarch. She was proud, yes, and conflicted to be left behind. My words had wounded her, reminding her of her own vulnerability.
Look beneath, she pressed.
There, the tiniest crack in her armor. Below, a frightened girl trembled in a dark and lonely world. We’d grown comfortable in the company of our council. Now, the men were marching off to war and she was afraid to be left behind. Her Queen’s Guard and her handsome captain would stay, of course, but I was the only one outside the confines of her gilded cage that could bridge the gap between her isolated youth and this kingdom she meant to reclaim.
I swallowed my pride and curtsied deeply. “As you wish, Majesty.”
It took the better part of three days to issue orders, load wagons, and arrange for the supply train. Luckily, a relay had already been set up between Reyus and his various commanders, and our small force seemed in good order. Samson rode out to the garrison and returned the next day with a thunderous mass of cavalry at his back. We could hear them approaching long before we could see them. It was an impressive and inspiring sight.
I was practicing my aim with Valor in the fields when they arrived. Quintin sidled up to me on his mount, my own shifting beneath me. I slung my bow crosswise over my torso and rode out to meet them. These were my men, my cavalry. A sense of pride and responsibility settled over me as they came to a halt near the rest of the assembled army. Samson met me with his chin held high.
“Lazerin cavalry reporting, my lady.” He raised his voice so all nearby could hear.
My gaze swept the mass of unfamiliar faces. Most stared curiously at me, taking in my tunic and breeches, my short hair, the sword at my hip. A few smiled. Some looked unsettled by what they saw. I tried not to take it personally, focusing on Samson’s face. He’d never shown me any respect, especially in the company of other men. Now, he sat straight in his saddle, deferring to me plainly before the entire cavalry. The drastic change unnerved me a bit, and I had to remind myself that this was my place now, as head of my House. I steeled myself and nodded to Samson with a firm confidence largely faked.
“Thank you, Commander. Report to General Reyus for your orders.”
He pressed his one fist to his chest in a crisp salute and wheeled his sturdy chestnut warhorse around toward his captains. They relayed his instructions down the line, shouting over the mass of horseflesh and soldiers. I watched as they broke off and began making camp in clusters on the open fields.
Dinner was a solemn affair, weighted by the impending departure. For my own part, I remained restless, uncomfortable staying behind while I sent my own people to die. The irony of the notion did not escape me, and I caught myself watching Selice across the table. She had calmed a bit with the knowledge that I would join her in our self-imposed captivity. I couldn’t help but hate her a little bit for it. Oh, I understood her reasons, but I am human and I felt the bitterness all the same. My father would have ridden to war with his men without question, as would I, had I been born a son. It ate at my pride that, due solely to the happenstance of my gender, I was forced to remain.
When the Queen had dismissed us for the night, I asked Quintin to accompany me to the encampment. I could not go to war with my men, but I could see them off. In a green dress and a light cloak against the evening chill, I walked among the tents. I’m not really sure what I’d intended, it just seemed like the right thing to do. Eyes followed me curiously as I moved through the camp, my quiet shadow close behind. A few of the soldiers nodded, murmuring ‘my lady’ as I passed. Some pressed their fists to their chests in salute. I came upon one campfire no different from any other, and a familiar face caught my eye.
“Bryce?” I queried as I stepped up to the circle of men.
He did a double-take, jumping to his feet when he realized who I was. “My lady,” he stammered. The others followed suit, standing and bobbing polite bows. As I neared the fire and the flames lit my face, Bryce narrowed his eyes at me. “Eli?” I grinned and nodded. Quintin tensed at my shoulder as my fellow conscript approached, dumbfounded. “You’re….” he gestured at my fine cotton gown. “Bloody hells.” He raked one hand through his hair. “The thing
s I said around you….”
“Are the others with you?” I pressed him. “Trente and Lehs? The rest of our unit?”
He shook his head and replied absentmindedly, still clearly processing this newest revelation. “Not sure. They were reassigned after the first patrol.” The other men exchanged confused glances across the campfire.
“May we join you?” I asked after a moment.
Bryce scrambled to accommodate us. “Of course, please.” They made room for us and I sat on my cloak on the ground like the rest of them. Quintin remained standing behind me. “Is James with you?” my old companion asked hopefully. “We ran patrol together last winter and I’d a mind to ask after his pretty new wife.” A wolfish grin split his face. Still the lecher, then, I thought with fondness, even as the loss of my oldest friend tugged at my chest.
“Leanne is well, she’s just had the babe a few months past.”
“Is he here?” he pressed, still grinning.
My own smile faltered. “James is dead.”
His face fell. “What? When?”
So it was that I told a campfire full of Lazerin cavalry about the fire and James’ death. In the face of his shield companions, I may have embellished a bit. He deserved that much. I might not have known exactly how he had gotten his wound, but I knew him. There was a reason he didn’t have his sword when he found me. I’d read a lot of ballads in my life, and spent a significant amount of time in the Royal Poet’s company. I was quite proud of the tale I spun for them. I told them of the tree where he lay buried. Someone else should know where to find him. Maybe when they reached Litheria, they could give him a proper marker.
When his story came to a close, I fell silent, the solemn faces around the fire lost in reverent thought for their brave comrade. I stood to leave them to their memories.
“Wait,” one called out, halting me. “Is it true you denounced the High Priest before the entire city?”
“And that you sent a dead hare to the King?” another chimed in.
They were two not entirely unrelated events in my life, but they seemed eons apart in my mind and I wondered how any of them could possibly have learned about either one. I hesitated before I answered.
A Crown of Lilies Page 42