A Fortunate Woman (Fortune's Favor Book 2)

by Jennifer Lyndon

  As the weeks passed, and success made us bolder, we moved into the thick of battle. We both sustained injuries, but nothing serious. Lia used her blood to heal our lieutenant more than once, as well as our other more formidable soldiers. It became commonly known that the princess had great abilities as a healer, and had inherited her mother’s gift for sorcery. I was more discreet, retaining the illusion of my mortality. Lia was excused for her strangeness, because she belonged to me. If I appeared peculiar to my soldiers, I knew I might lose their loyalty.

  We followed the strategy Lia laid out that first evening in our tent, turning the trap on our foes, by paring down our regiments, and giving the appearance of vulnerability. We lured the Head Takers in from the west, away from the coast, and their supplies, into the Nutumek River Valley. Surrounded by the Nutumek Mountains and flanked by Vilken soldiers, the Head Takers were the ones trapped, and systematically slaughtered by our Vilken army.

  We gathered their corpses and burned them in enormous bonfires, before returning to the coast to set their brightly colored ships aflame. One of the most beautiful sights I ever witnessed was the bright red and yellow painted hull of a Head Taker ship rocking with the undulation of the sea as the flames devoured the foreign vessel. I watched with heightened focus until each bright ship sank, piecemeal into the ocean.

  Before we set off to the south, I sent communication to M’Tek. She needed to be aware of Lia’s assertions regarding the Head Takers intentions against Faeland. I doubted my cousin would heed my warning, but I wanted her to know what we were doing, and not be surprised if our army crossed into Faeland in pursuit of the Head Takers. I didn’t want the mighty Fae army attacking our flank, believing us hostile.

  As we rode toward the south with our small cohort, heading for the disaster that had unfolded there, Lia was again pensive. During the previous month we’d spoken of little beyond battle strategy. I rode on at her side, wanting to breech the silence that had formed between us. She was retreated too far within her own head to notice me, so I awaited her attention, considering the bad news I received of Kieran’s efforts.

  “I don’t understand what happened in the south,” Lia finally said, breaking that daunting barrier of silence without thought. I turned to find Lia was watching me. “Except for our elite infantry, Kieran’s regiments were the superior ones,” Lia pointed out. “Her losses are far greater than they should be. Did we underestimate the Head Takers’ numbers in the south?”

  “No. The scouts have all given comparable accounts,” I replied. “I think it was the manner of her attack, not the numbers she faced. Our enemy is bold. We destroyed them by appearing weak, and basically luring them into a trap. Kieran took a different approach, attacking aggressively.”

  “Well, she looks weak now, and incompetent,” Lia pointed out. “Maybe we can use that to our advantage.”

  “Possibly,” I replied. “But they know we’re coming, and that we burned six of their ships and killed tens of thousands of their number. They won’t be so easily fooled this time.”

  “Then what do you have in mind?” Lia asked.

  “I’ve the ghost of a plan, but I haven’t unraveled it all yet,” I admitted.

  Lia brightened, her eyes focusing on me intently. “Give me the outline, and I’ll help you fill in the rest,” she offered. I didn’t want to speak of strategies and kill counts.

  “I’ve had word from Ania,” I said rather than explaining my plan. “Emma had her child.”

  Lia smiled at me, a gentle, private smile. Suddenly she was my Lia again, instead of the calculating killer our circumstances had made of her. “Yes, Pet, I know. The countess had a baby girl,” she said quietly. “I know you wanted to be there for the birth. I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

  “Vilkerland has a new daughter,” I said, smiling.

  “Vilkerland?” Lia said, raising an eyebrow in question. All of her life, since Lore fled with her daughters from Vilkerdam, Lia had known Vilkerland as the Baneland Territory, or simply Baneland.

  “Do you really believe this beautiful land is cursed, Lia?” I asked.

  She waited to reply, apparently considering my question. She glanced at the Vilken soldiers surrounding us, and then across the open plain we were crossing. The stiff grass grew high enough to brush the underbellies of the stockier, shorter, Vilken horses, and it was a pure, brilliant gold, shimmering in the glow of the sun. There was a river skirting the plain, and in the far distance, the brilliant blue of Tamerina Lake.

  “Mamma cursed it,” Lia replied. “And you’ve been striving to lift that curse for twenty years, Pet. Why?” she asked.

  “This land is beautiful. It only wants a small amount of love, and look at what it gives back,” I pointed out. “And the Vilkerlings may be different from us, but they’re honorable, good people.”

  “You plan to restore the Vilken nobility, don’t you?” Lia asked in a whisper, despite the fact that we were speaking Fae, and no one within hearing range could understand the language.

  “I do,” I admitted. “I think these people have been punished enough. How are they so different from the Fae, or even the Noge? They have some stiff mannerisms, and poor food choices, and there humor has taken me decades to find, but they also have decency, and integrity.”

  “Would you return their estates?” she asked.

  “Those who fought with us deserve some reward,” I said, not really answering her question.

  “But we own a great deal of their land, Pet,” she said. “You benefitted from the disenfranchisement of the Vilken people. Our wealth is built on their losses. Would you just hand it all back to them now? Would you give them our home? Would you strip Astrid of her inheritance?”

  “Lia, we both know that Astrid is unlikely to ever inherit from us,” I replied. “Just as you aren’t likely to inherit Nogeland from Lore. When Astrid comes of age, we’ll have to make arrangements for her, possibly offer her Tannukyn if that’s what she wants, or build her an estate on some portion of our land. Regardless, the holdings I will return to the Vilken people can have no effect on her.”

  “What about our holdings? What about those of the Noge and Fae who currently own the estates of this territory?” she asked.

  “Lauderdam was Lore’s to sell, and more than half of our Vilken land falls within the Lauderdam estate,” I pointed out. “As for the remainder of our land, I see no reason why I should hold greater claim to it than the Vilken families who owned and tended it, and paid taxes on it, for centuries. The Noge and Fae nobles who failed to defend this land against the Head Takers have forfeit their claims entirely, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Mamma will never allow you to restore the Vilken nobility,” Lia observed.

  “We’ve built a powerful army, Lia. Your mother refused protection to Vilkerland, so we acted. She will have little say in what we do after we defeat the last Head Takers on our southern shore. The Vilken people will support us. This nation will be ours, Lia, to rule as we please, and it would please me enormously to see a queen’s crown on your head,” I said firmly.

  “You’re the Prime of Nogeland, and beloved cousin to the Fae Queen,” Lia pointed out. “What you’re saying is treason, Pet.”

  “I suppose you might see it that way, but I’m no subject of the Fae Queen. I’m Vilken now, and as I see it, Vilkerland is no longer Lore’s,” I acknowledged. “Still, I’m getting ahead of myself,” I added. “We haven’t defeated the Head Takers yet.”

  “I’ve no desire to be a queen, Pet,” she said quietly. “I’ve never wanted it.”

  “It was never my ambition either, darling, but it may be required of us,” I said gently.

  -CH 20-

  We spread our military cohorts throughout the southern region of Vilkerland over the following weeks. Still, I was unsure of using Lia’s strategy of feigned weakness a second time. As we prepared for battle, I focused on an easier way to destroy the Head Takers. The story of their drunken attack on Emma ha
d been playing in my mind, ferreting out a bold scheme, and pointing to vulnerability I might exploit. I sent my least valuable cohort northwest, to one of my warehouses. I then had them, under cover of darkness, transport the entire contents of that warehouse to a barn barely within the territory we held.

  Once we had the stock of torppa in place, I ordered that cohort to make a haphazard attack. Quickly, the Head Takers fought back and the cohort retreated, losing territory well beyond the barn. Over the following days my scouts watched as the Head Takers moved the contents of the barn, sharing the crates equally among the soldiers, as spoils of war. We continued to give the appearance of building fortifications, as we waited.

  At first it seemed the Head Takers had no plans of consuming my torppa, and that I had merely wasted energy, and a fortune in valuable product I’d already sold. On the sixth night there was a blood moon. The Head Takers took it as a sign I suppose, and began to celebrate, dancing around enormous bonfires spread throughout the plain, and partaking of my most potent torppa.

  Each of the cohorts of the six regiments was assigned specific camps to attack, and as the Head Takers became more inebriated, we formed ranks. In the early hours of the morning, a coordinated attack commenced on those drunken savages. It was a true slaughter, our army descending in perfect synchrony on more than three thousand camps simultaneously.

  Rather than joining in the fighting, Lia and I held back. From our vantage point we silently watched the horror unfold before us, as camps burned, people and horses screamed in agony, and the soil along the coast was drenched in blood. The fighting continued through the night as, even in their drunken condition, the Head Takers fought back. By the following evening, the southern coast was littered with the bodies of both invaders and defenders.

  Of course we took losses, three thousand two hundred and twelve warriors to be exact, and many of them our best, but in the end, not one Head Taker was still breathing. In less than twenty hours we had decimated an army of nearly twenty thousand savages. That evening we rested and tended to our wounded. The following morning we collected our fallen warriors, recorded their names, and buried them honorably. The day after that we burned the corpses of the Head Takers, and their boats.

  I’d feared the necessity of crossing into Faeland to fight, and the wrath of M’Tek if Lia and I had led a Vilken army into her domain, but it had been unnecessary. We’d defeated our enemy on Vilken soil. The only task left to us was defending Vilkerland from future attacks. Along the Wasteland Pass, across the southern coast, and all the way along the west to the Nogeland border, a portion of our army remained, vigilantly watching for more brightly colored ships and brightly colored ponies. Lia and I on the other hand headed home.

  ****

  Our return journey took us past the burned out remains of Marinella Manor. As we crossed the extensive acreage of the once impressive estate, my heart sank with each visual confirmation of Emma’s horrific plight, the burned out warehouses and outbuildings, and the random headless skeletons that had never been burned or buried. I imagined her last experiences at her beloved home, as her brutal tale of violence and loss ran through my mind. Marinella had been the only great Vilken manor still standing, the countess’ family the last Vilken nobility to retain their holdings. After the assault by the Head Takers, all that remained were the charred stones of the lower walls of the manor house. As Lia and I rode through the ruin I couldn’t help but picture the manor, as it had once been, stately and respectable.

  We rode through the neglected torppa fields next, and I noted the strength of Emma’s crop. The berries had dried and fallen from the vines, but the vines were still healthy, even without an army of vintners tending them. I resolved in that moment to send my own workers south in early spring to prune and tend her vines. In seven years time the House of Marinella would again offer fine torppa. The countess’ losses would be contained, the bleeding of her great family stemmed. With money, she could begin to rebuild when she chose.

  Two days later, in the morning, Lia and I arrived with our guards to the great gates of Lauderdam palace. More than two weeks had passed since the last battle. It had snowed the night before. Even so, it was one of those surprisingly warm days late in winter, when you can smell spring in the air. Ania stood in only a light coat, holding Astrid’s hand. Emma waited close to her side, cradling a bundled up child in her arms. I dropped down from Reika’s back and Astrid broke free of Ania’s grip to run to me. She wrapped her arms around my dirty breeches to hug me.

  “Astrid, my child,” I said, drawing my daughter’s little arms from around me so I could kneel in front of her. “I’m filthy.”

  “Mamma, I missed you!” she said in reply. “We had a baby!” she exclaimed before turning from me to Lia who was kneeling beside us.

  Astrid pushed into Lia’s arms, and Lia lifted her up, cradling her daughter to her chest, and gracefully carrying her forward, eager to greet Ania and Emma. I watched as Khol and Reika were led away, thanked the soldiers that had accompanied us on our return, and formally released them from duty, before turning to rejoin my family.

  Ania’s arms were around her sister, and her eyes were red. I turned to Emma. The countess wrapped one arm across my shoulders guiding me close to meet her daughter. I looked down into beautiful, almost black, brown eyes with little splashes of bright copper through the irises. As I studied the child it occurred to me that if I’d ever seen truly dark Fae eyes, they would be like those of the child before me. When I studied Emma, and saw the same brilliant flashes of copper in her eyes, I knew. I could no longer deny what we had done. Somehow, when Lia and I healed the countess, we had changed her. Emma was a Vilken Lemu. The thought troubled me, though I was uncertain why, possibly because she’d been given no choice in the matter.

  “Emma, she’s beautiful,” I said, rather than voice my concerns. “And you look twenty years younger,” I observed.

  “It’s because I’m happy. You’ve avenged my mate, Pet,” the countess said softly. I nodded. “I only wish Jestin had lived to see his daughter. She’s so strong. After everything we went through, she’s still so robust and healthy.”

  “What have you named her?” I asked, eyeing a strange silver scar across the baby’s throat that appeared to stretch down beneath her swaddling. Lia appeared at my shoulder, admiring the child. Lia squeezed Emma’s shoulder, claiming the countess’ attention.

  “Jestine is beautiful,” Lia said, appreciation evident in her tone. “Her eyes are lovely, Emma,” Lia added. “They’re like yours.”

  I stepped away, turning to Ania, who was watching Emma and Jestine with a strange expression, almost longing, in her gaze. Her eyes trailed adoringly over the countess before returning to the baby. “Ania, dear, it’s good to see you,” I called, taking a step toward Lia’s sister as she quickly diverted her gaze. She was blushing when she finally met my eyes.

  “I worried constantly for you and Lia,” she admitted. “Did I write too many letters?” she asked, forcing a sad smile. I caught the scent of cinnamon and oranges in Ania’s hair as she ran her fingers through it. I squeezed her shoulder and offered a sympathetic smile.

  “Of course not, sweetie. I appreciated receiving news of home,” I replied. “I’d hug you, but I’m afraid I stink,” I said, grinning. “The streams are running too cold for a proper bath. I did my best, but I could benefit from a thorough soaking.”

  “You don’t smell bad, Pet,” Ania said gently as she drew me into a warm hug. “You do look a little hostile though, in battle garb and with your hair braided to your head. It makes you appear almost menacing,” she observed, releasing me. “You’re usually so feminine and elegant. It’s a little unsettling seeing you dressed as a warrior. It makes it all too real, somehow.”

  “Well we can’t have that,” I said, grinning at Ania. “And I really should go and see what damage these braids have done to my hair,” I said, running a hand across my head. “I’d like to spend some time with you, though, after I ge
t cleaned up. Will you take a walk with me this afternoon?” I asked. Ania looked surprised.

  “Of course, Pet, if you like,” she replied. I squeezed her shoulder again and left the little group of them still collected on the doorstep.

  I headed back to our rooms and began stripping my filthy clothes away the moment I crossed the threshold into our hearth room. I dropped all of my clothes in a pile on the floor beside the hearth, planning to burn them later, and continued on to the bath chamber and the warm pool awaiting me.

  Steam rose from the surface of the bath, sending a thrill of anticipation through me. After months of bathing in the frigid water of streams, at night, and occasionally breaking ice to get at water for washing, I craved that warm mineral pool. I stepped in eagerly, sighing as I sank down into the soothing water.

  For Deus knows how long, I remained in a state of pure bliss, slumped against the side of the pool, my eyes closed, head thrown back, sighing occasionally at the perfection of the moment. I heard gentle splashing as Lia slipped in beside me, scooting close. Her lips moved over my neck, prompting me to raise my head and meet her laughing eyes. She straddled me, and captured my lips with hers before relaxing against my chest.

  “Have you missed your bath chamber so much, Pet?” she asked. “I could hear you sighing all the way in the hearth room.”

  I stretched my arms around my mate. “That’s not all I’ve missed, my darling,” I replied. “Clean, fluffy bath sheets, perishable food that’s not Vilken, and was prepared by someone who actually knows how to cook, served at a formally set table, the comfort of our bed, my dressing gown and slippers, and my evening gowns, shoes that aren’t boots, truly clean socks that don’t have holes in them and haven’t been darned, my jewelry, the feel of my hair loose against the back of my neck, and of course, having you in my arms in our bed.”