“We expected you yesterday, my lady,” he said cheerfully, wiping sweat from his brow.
“We were delayed.” I looked around. “You’ve made good progress.”
He grinned. “Everyone’s been working since we arrived.”
I spotted a good dozen of my cavalry volunteers lingering around the camp, watching. “Not everyone, it seems.” I kneed Valor over to them. They straightened to attention when they saw me approach.
“Where is the rest of your unit?” I asked, my voice sharp with disapproval.
“On patrol, my lady,” one young man answered. “We thought it best to keep an eye on the perimeter.
I nodded. “And you lot?”
They exchanged a glance. “Off duty, miss.”
I felt my nostril twitch, my temper flaring. “If you’re not on patrol, and you’re not asleep, you damn well better be helping.” I turned and barked over my shoulder for Henry, who came running.
“Miss?” he fetched up beside my stirrup.
I eyed my men, who had the grace to look ashamed. “From now on, when you are not on patrol, you will report to Henry to offer your assistance in whatever manner he deems fit. Am I understood?”
“Yes, my lady,” they murmured in turn.
I turned to Henry, who looked a bit unsettled. “Put them to work.”
“Yes, miss.” He bobbed a bow and began giving out assignments. I returned to Quintin, who eyed me warily.
“Samson would be proud.”
I shot him a glare as I dismounted, and heard Henry direct one of his new charges to see to our mounts. The young man hurried over. “Might want to keep your fingers clear,” I suggested, nodding to Valor. “He likes to bite.”
The day was hot, the laborers sweating in their tunics and covered with wood shavings. We wandered the camp, getting a gauge of the first attempts at organization. A large central fire pit had been constructed in the closest natural clearing, lined with stones. A group of Alesian women was cooking in a massive copper pot I recognized from the manor kitchen. I spotted Amita among them and learned what I could from her about the current state of things.
Stephan and his numerous stable hands had taken the horses to the northwest and were busy constructing paddocks and shelters. It would take them several weeks at least, and they would maintain a separate smaller camp there when it was done. Someone had to keep an eye on the herd through the winter. I was glad he had been so thorough. Those horses might be the only thing I had left to my name when this was all over.
Selice and her envoy had departed the day before, wagons of valuables in tow, promising to return as soon as possible with the first round of supplies. Amita and many of the other women were tending to the daily needs, such as the food and inventory. What we’d brought would only last a few weeks. I made mental notes as she gave her report, sounding for all the world as if we stood in the manor study.
“When do you want to speak to them?” she asked me when she’d finished, as though doing so were a foregone conclusion. In the wake of my dream, the idea of leadership still unnerved me, but I had chosen this path and I would see it through.
“Let them rest. If you would, spread the word to meet here in the morning.” I looked around. “Where would you like us to make camp?”
She grinned. “Here, if you like, my lady. We’ve some extra tents. I’ll see a few of the lads put them up for you.”
“No need, I’ve got to learn sometime.” I glanced at Quintin. “That is, assuming you know how.” He scowled at me, a welcome familiarity.
He did teach me, though, as evening settled over the forest. It was awkward and much easier with two people. By the time we’d staked the second one down, I’d gotten a reasonable understanding of it. We stayed and chatted with folk as Amita doled out bowls of stew, but I could tell they considered me apart. I was still a noble, no matter what clothes I wore, and the lot of them eyed me uneasily, worry plainly writ on their faces. They second-guessed their decision to stay and trust their fates and their families to my care, rather than flee with the rest to Montar. I couldn’t blame them. I was as green as any stripling lad. What did I know of leadership? As the evening wore on, I slipped away to my tent and lay atop my bedroll, listening to the sounds of voices amid the forest, and wondered very seriously if I’d made a terrible mistake.
Dawn was less recognizable beneath the dense canopy, and I found myself waking to the sound of human activity rather than the light peeking through the canvas. Ducking out of the low tent, I stood and buckled my sword belt about my hips, ears catching the familiar sound of blades whirring through the air. Searching the trees, I spotted Quintin deep in the forest, moving through his morning routine.
“You might have woken me,” I commented sourly as I approached.
He finished his cycle. “You needed the rest.”
It was a light practice, both of us well aware that with the limited food supply, we’d no right to spend our energies needlessly. Nevertheless, I was glad he hadn’t given up our sparring altogether. It was my favorite part of the day.
Amita approached timidly while we battered away at one another. We disengaged and turned to greet her. “Everyone’s gathered, my lady.”
I’d nearly forgotten and was glad to have burned some of the tension from myself before climbing up onto a wagon at the main campfire. Looking down at the assembled faces, I was once again struck by the reality that I was now fully responsible for these people and their survival. Steeling myself, I raised my voice so all could hear.
“The Queen’s army has reached the fort.” A short cheer went up at that. “But so have the Persicans, who have laid siege to it.” That dulled their enthusiasm. “If they see anyone coming or going from this forest, they will come look for us.” I met as many of their eyes as I could. “No one leaves the woods without my permission.” Quintin shifted nearby, and I took some of the edge from my tone. They needed a leader, not a tyrant. “Everyone’s survival depends on it. Agreed?”
A chorus of nods and murmurs of assent followed.
“Everyone will work. Winter is only a few months away, and we have an entire encampment to build before it arrives. Those with trade skills will be assigned helpers without.” I took some time identifying the carpenters among the group, of which there were several. To each, I assigned a handful of assistants. Young Henry, who had already proven himself a capable leader, was left to delegate the rest of the labor force.
I turned to the gezgin. “The best hunters should be out supplying fresh meat for the pot each night. Amita will lead the food and supply distribution.” I pointed at her. “If you are in need of something, you will ask her. If it can be spared, she will provide it.” I looked out over the crowd. “First and foremost, we need to clear these trees. Everyone without another task helps. Let’s get to it. Cavalry, hold for assignments,” I added at the last moment, as the crowd began to disperse.
My two dozen volunteers, chastened by yesterday’s scolding, gathered around as I hopped down from the cart. Will pressed his way to the fore, beaming at me. I nodded to him in reassurance. “Who among you holds rank?” I asked, looking around at them.
One man stepped forward, pressing one fist to his chest in salute. “Captain Rory, my lady.”
He looked only a few years my senior, but solemn with it. “Patrols are in your hands, Captain. Ask Henry if you need more men to cover the night watch. I’m sure some of his boys would love to try their hand at soldiering.” That earned a chuckle from them. “In case yesterday’s instruction wasn’t clear enough, if you’re not on patrol, you’re helping out here. Is that clear?” A chorus of acknowledgments rippled through the assembled men in their leather armor. Rory favored me with a small grin. “See to it, then, Captain.”
“My lady.” He offered another crisp salute and began issuing assignments.
“What about me, miss?” Will fetched up before me as I made to leave.
“I trust you to help make sure the patrols are diligently m
aintained, and report any lapses directly to me.” His face fell. I gave him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, Will. This is where I need you right now.” I raised one brow at him. “I warned you there was more glory serving the Queen.”
He shook his head, jaw setting with resolve. “No, my lady. I’ve no regrets.” Crestfallen but determined, he left me to rejoin his comrades.
Heading for the copse of newly-felled trees, I unbuckled my sword belt and my Freyjan shield, wrapping them in their tight bundle and setting them on a nearby cart. My sapphire ring, I’d long since put back on its chain, tucked under my tunic. Quintin watched me curiously as I began rolling up my sleeves. I approached one of the carpenters I’d identified earlier in the crowd, a weathered man of middling years who was pointing at trees and giving direction to those around him. He greeted me as I approached.
“How can I help?” I asked. He stared at me a long moment. When it became clear I meant to contribute, the corner of his mouth twisted in a smile.
“Do you know how to cut down a tree, my lady?” he asked, raising one brow at me.
“No,” I admitted, glancing back over my shoulder at my nonplussed guardian. “But I can learn.”
It took a week to clear enough trees, and another to hack down the stumps, which was infinitely harder. While circles of us took axes to the stubborn bases, others went to work processing the rest of the wood, stripping bark and sawing long planks from each trunk. Women used hatchets to cut branches down into usable lengths and bundled large courses of roof thatch from cartloads of grasses brought in from the northwest edge of the wood. It was hard, itchy, sweaty work in the late summer heat. At the end of each day, we trekked in a long line to the nearby stream to wash the worst of it away. An agreement was quickly reached to separate the men’s and women’s bathing times, which allowed even the modest gezgin women a chance to wash themselves without fear of being seen by the men.
It was difficult, at first, forcing two very different cultures into such close proximity of one another. There was an altercation near the beginning when an Alesian man caught a gezgin girl as she tripped over an exposed root. After some discussion with the jade-eyed grandmother, whose name I learned was Itsu, I understood why the girl’s family had been so angry. We had another community meeting that night, during which I explained that unmarried gezgin women could not be touched by any man who was not her blood kin.
Food was another sticking point, as the two peoples had very different palates. We tried sharing what we could, but eventually gave up and maintained two separate cook fires. With tensions already high, it wasn’t worth the battle.
For the most part, everyone got along. Day in and day out, we worked side by side toward a common goal. I watched a sense of camaraderie develop as the rough shelters gradually took form. Translators were in short supply, but we made do with universal gesture and the gezgin’s varying knowledge of the Alesian tongue. We had just completed the first lodge when the first supply wagons arrived from Caelin. Our patrols announced their arrival and everyone took a break to welcome the convoy. At its head, Selice sat her white palfrey, her handsome captain beside her on his buckskin gelding.
I approached and bowed low, sweaty and filthy in my tunic and breeches.
She raised one golden brow at me. “You continue to surprise, Lady Lazerin.”
I smiled up at her. “Hard work is good for the soul, Majesty.”
“Oh?” she tilted her head at me. “Perhaps you might show me, then.” She slid down from the saddle, her fine silk gown dragging in the leaves.
“I think you’d find it difficult in that, my lady.” I gestured to her dress.
“Yes, I see your point.” She smiled politely. “Perhaps just a demonstration, then.”
As Colin and his men saw to the unloading of the supplies, I escorted my queen around the site, pointing out the foundations we’d laid and taking her inside the newly finished lodge. Much of our stores had already been moved inside, even though the last of the grass thatch was still being secured into place. I described the process of stripping and milling the trees into usable planks, and the clever peg system that the carpenters had implemented to stretch our supply of nails.
“I’ve brought more,” she informed me with a hint of pride. “It was on Amita’s list.”
“Thank you, Majesty.” We strode through the camp toward the cook fire. Rough tables and benches had been constructed from some of the supply wagons we no longer needed, though we had saved the wheels.
Fall was on full display, filling the forest with fiery reds and oranges. “It’s quite beautiful here, isn’t it?” Selice commented wistfully, gazing into the dense canopy above.
I watched her, my mind elsewhere. “What of the reinforcements?”
“Couriers have been sent. We’ve not heard back yet. Oh!” she started, turning her wide eyes to me. “You’ve not yet heard! The southern Hydraxian army is defeated! The armies of Arradon and Cambria have secured the border with the help of the Freyjans.” Her smile lit the whole forest, though the mention of Aubrey’s home province sent a pang of fresh sorrow through me. It was excellent news, to be sure, but I was unable to join her wholeheartedly in celebration. My home, and my men, were still trapped under siege, and the knowledge weighed on me.
Three times, I had ridden Valor back to the edge of the forest to see the state of the confrontation. In their hurry to give chase, the Persicans had not brought any engines with them but were hammering the walls with ballistae. With winter approaching, I expected they meant to starve the fort and was glad we’d seen it well-provisioned in advance. The crofters nearest to the garrison had burned their crops before fleeing, as we’d discussed, and every field within sight lay black and barren. Nevertheless, the Persicans would have ample supplies trailing in from Litheria for as long as they required.
“Will they march for Laezon?” I pressed.
“Not until spring,” she replied, her excitement quelled. “I’m sorry, Elivya.”
It was no more than I had expected.
The day wore on, and the people were thrilled to see their queen in the flesh. To her credit, she spoke gently to them and held their hands as they chatted with her. I watched from a polite distance. She was wonderful. Young, yes, but a deep well of wisdom and love radiated from those incredible golden eyes. She’d rarely left the manor in Laezon, and certainly never mingled with the common folk in my presence. It was an entirely different side to her that I’d never seen. All her rigid coolness set aside, the kind girl beneath emerged in the presence of her people. Even the gezgin seemed curious about her, the adults watching from afar as the children joined their Alesian playmates in regaling her with rambling stories.
I wondered about the change in her, whether it was simply because of the present company, or if something else had shifted in her world. Surely, the current circumstances had done nothing to put her at ease, but I noticed a lightness and a comfort that had not existed before. I caught her captain watching from the wagons, his men working diligently to move the supplies into the lodge. His countenance, too, had changed. There, in a private moment, when he thought no one was watching, I could read him. Everyone seemed to love her, but not like that. There lay the passion of a man well and truly lost. He lived for her, breathed for her, would gladly die for her. My heart ached, and I thought of Adrian for the first time in a while.
When Colin called for them to start back, she was clearly loath to leave. Children followed, skipping around her and chatting animatedly as she climbed gracefully back into the saddle. With Amita’s latest list, a promise to send to Daria on my behalf, and a regal wave, our queen was gone once more.
The lingering buzz from her visit lasted for days. Everyone was in a better mood, work progressed without incident, and even the river seemed to run a bit clearer. Quintin and I lingered one evening to speak with the master carpenter who had assumed the lead in the construction efforts. By his count, we hadn’t enough lumber for all six lodges, and mor
e trees would need to be felled. We walked with him around the perimeter, marking the ones he deemed most appropriate to remove, and agreed to get started on the morrow. The line of workers was returning from the river when we finally parted ways with the carpenter. Sweaty and itchy, we made our way toward the water.
“Go on, I’ll wait,” Quintin nodded to the river, sitting down on a nearby boulder and facing chastely away.
I didn’t bother watching to see if he’d peek. His ironclad Tuvrian modesty wouldn’t allow such a callous transgression. I peeled my sweaty clothes from my skin and suppressed a yelp as I waded waist-deep into the cold water. Dunking my head, I quickly scrubbed myself with a lump of lye-soap, and then my clothes as best I could. Wringing and shaking them out, I tossed them onto a rock on the bank, dunked myself once more, and climbed out.
Shivering in the evening cold, I scrambled into my dry spare breeches and tunic. “I’m done.” He hesitated before turning around. Even when he did, he kept his eyes carefully averted. It made me laugh. “Am I really so offensive?”
Blue eyes met mine, then, one eyebrow raised. “Hardly.” He made for the water’s edge, turning and scowling at me when he found me still watching him. I threw up my hands, taking his place on the boulder as I began working at the knots in my hair. Staring off into the woods toward the camp, I thought about Selice’s visit.
“She’s good at it,” I commented absent-mindedly. “Being queen. Did you see the way she talked to them? They loved her.”
I heard him splash into the water behind me. “She’s the blood of Adulil. Of course she’s good at being queen.”
I shook my head. “There’s something more to it than that...” I trailed off.
“What’s that?” he called.
I turned my head to project over my shoulder, and something caught the corner of my eye. Quintin might have been too modest to peek, but I wasn’t. Faced away from me, waist-deep in the water, something on his back snatched my attention. On his left shoulder blade, a broken shield had been inked into his skin. Stark and black, it spanned the width of my hand, the rest of his back lined with scars that closely resembled my own.
A Crown of Lilies Page 47