Duchess Rising, page 2
After they’d retaken their seats, the King angrily drew his sword. “As much as I wish it were otherwise,” He shook the weapon, “this is how we keep Anacafria safe from rulers like Desdamea.” He knelt in front of Bree, one knee on the ground, his sword resting casually across his thigh. “We were pages and squires together for Sir Banyon and Sir Kyels when we’d barely reached our teens. When we became knights, we fought side-by-side during the Estian Wars, and the younglings still talk about you as the Hero of the Battle of Blackthorn Pass. Tane’s blood, Bree! You saved my life and very nearly lost your own in the process.
“At twenty-eight, you were the sub-commander my mother chose to lead the Huntington’s Cavalry in the Queen’s Brigade—the most elite cavalry force in all the Kingdoms and the force that helped turn the tide against the Estian Circle!”
“Sire, there are plenty of men and women qualified to lead your troops. I need to return to my steading. That’s where I belong now, not on some battlefield trying to—.”
Leopold stood and angrily sheathed his sword, the crack of metal against metal loud as he rammed it into place. “I need you, right now, Bree. I trust you, and the soldiers trust you. What I don’t need is to have you wallowing away at your steading, drunk and addlebrained!”
He began to pace, running his fingers through his hair to calm himself. After a deep breath, he returned to sit on the log. He rested his head in his hand, turning his head to face her as he spoke in a softer tone. “I’m sorry Timur is gone. She was my friend with whom I could speak for candlemarks about history and art.” A smile lightened his features. “How many times did she say I was dense for discounting the Shona beliefs? Only Timur would dare say that to her king.”
He sat up straight and held Bree’s gaze. “I have mourned with you, and I have let you mourn for many months now, Cousin. I will never forget her, but I will not let you foul her memory by sinking into your cups and turning your back on your king and your country.”
“Foul her—” Red tinged the corners of her vision as the blood rushed to her head. The ache in her temples multiplied tenfold as her pulse pounded through her veins. She pushed to her feet and glared down at the seated Leopold, who quickly rose as well.
Just as she opened her mouth to deliver an angry retort, Ebi, her Badger Spirit Guide, materialized between her and the King. Only Bree and Kaiti could see or hear her, but that didn’t stop the animal from standing on her hind legs and giving Bree a warning shove. Berate the King in front of these soldiers, and they’ll turn on you, Duchess. Like it or not, he’s right. Not only does he need you, but the child needs you as well. She poked her paw into Bree’s stomach again. Say the wrong thing now in anger, and the King will have no choice but to turn his back on you both. Is that what you really want?
Bree looked over at Kaiti, who’d risen to her feet, eyes alert as she watched the drama unfolding.
The guards stood with their heads locked forward, but Bree knew they were using the time-honored technique of any standing man-at-arms, the ability to covertly watch anything of interest using their peripheral vision.
She rubbed her face with the palms of her hands. Ebi was right, and Bree knew it. The troops needed to see that she was loyal to her king and trusted his judgment in all areas, particularly in matters of war.
At this point, there was only one way for her to show unequivocal loyalty to the crown. Shoving down her anger, she took the time to compose herself before turning back and addressing her king. “Your Majesty. I am now and always will be yours to command.”
She knelt and drew one of her knives from the bandolier strapped across her chest. Turning the knife so that the tip rested against her heart, she repeated the oath she’d given him on the day of his coronation. “My life for your life, my blood for your blood. I will stand strong and true in defense of your kingdom. My sword will defend you, my words will honor you, and my will shall be obedient to your command. I will defend the defenseless, speak only the truth, and choose loyalty to my king over riches and approbation. This I do swear and will uphold for as long as there is breath in my body.”
Relieved, Leopold slowly placed his hand on the hilt of her knife. He spoke clearly, projecting his voice just enough for those listening to hear him clearly. “My life for your life, my blood for your blood. I accept your oath of fealty and will protect you and yours throughout the length of my reign. I will be the first into battle and the last to quit the field. I will rule with justice tempered by mercy. This I do swear and will uphold for as long as there is breath in my body.”
A roar went up from the ring of soldiers gathered outside the light of the fire.
Startled, Bree saw shadows dancing across scores of smiling faces belonging to the many men and women who’d heard the commotion and had come to see what was happening.
A quick glance also showed her the fierce pride etched onto the faces of the Imperial Guard.
Leopold, his eyes bright with unshed tears, pulled her to her feet and embraced her. He spoke quietly in her ear. “I do need you, Bree. We all need you back, at least until this crisis has run its course.”
Bree smiled slightly when Ebi waddled out into the darkness muttering to herself. Who knew? Maybe she’s trainable after all.
Kaiti came up and gently took the knife out of the King’s hand. She looked back and forth between Bree and Leopold, her brows drawn low in confusion and uncertainty. She offered the knife to Bree, who took it and slid it into its sheath without conscious thought.
Turning in a circle, Bree began to recognize many of the faces surrounding them. Each of them lowered their eyes as a sign of respect when she met their gaze. When she came full circle, she found Eavan standing proud and tall next to Nordin, who was his usual stoic self.
Jathez barked at the crowd. “Enough now. Get back to your fires. Eat and rest. We leave before dawn, and I’d better not have to come and personally kick your arses out of your tents, or you’ll be digging latrines with your spoons for the rest of the trip.”
Many of the soldiers chuckled, but they all returned to their tents and cook fires.
Jathez turned to Darius. “That includes you as well, Your Highness. Morning will come early enough, and you always want to make it a habit to be up before your soldiers.” He took the prince by the shoulders and bent down to look into his eyes. “Sleep well, young leopard cub.”
Obediently, Darius stepped back, bowed to his father, and then, out of respect, inclined his head to Jathez and Bree. He tried to stifle the yawn that was threatening to escape, but it appeared just as he turned to go.
His father saw how worn-out Darius was and smiled. He wished his son goodnight with the same words he’d been using since the day his son first came into the world. “I’ll be in very soon, Darius. Dream of glory and honor and wake refreshed and ready for a new day.”
“I will, Father.” Darius sleepily called over his shoulder as he ducked into their pavilion.
Nordin stepped over and took up a position to the right of the entrance.
Eavan began rolling up her mat and putting away the mink oil she’d used to soften the reins on the King’s bridle.
Kaiti helped her as the King turned to Bree and Jathez. “We’ll talk more about the possibility of war as we ride through the countryside tomorrow. Whether it actually happens or not, I intend to be better equipped and better prepared than Desdamea and her horde.” He placed a hand on Bree’s shoulder. “Whether you believe it or not, you’re a big part of that, Cousin.”
He motioned toward Eavan with his chin and spoke softly. “She’s not the only one who idolizes you. Watch the way the soldiers look at you as you walk or ride by. I think you’ll be surprised.”
Jathez nodded. “Most of the time, heroes don’t think they’re anything special. In fact, most of them don’t even believe they’re actually heroes. But our young men and women need leaders they can believe in. People they know have ridden into battle and survived and who can maybe increase their own chances of surviving as well.”
He smiled at Bree. “Like it or not, Duchess, that would be you and me.” Turning to Leopold, he shrugged, “The King, well, he’s the King, and his people love him, and his soldiers will follow him without question. I, too, am glad you’re back.” With that, he bowed slightly to the King and retired to his own tent.
Kaiti returned, yawning widely. Bree put her hand over the child’s mouth. “Cover your mouth when you do that, especially around nobility.”
Leopold chuckled and stepped toward his tent. “Good night, you two. Tomorrow will be here earlier than early.”
Bree inclined her head toward his retreating back, and Kaiti mimicked her movements. The two of them walked to their tent, where Kaiti was asleep before her head hit her pillow. Bree knelt and covered her with the blanket. “Goodnight, Little One.” She shook her head. “Our lives just took a very strange turn, and I hope we’re both up for the ride.”
CHAPTER 2
The following morning, Bree awoke with a start, disoriented but alert. She’d lived in enough encampments to recognize the sound an army makes as soldiers stoke the fires and fill the cookpots while others strike the tents, pack the mules, and saddle the horses.
She heard Kaiti outside speaking Shona and was surprised to hear Becca quietly answer. As far as Bree knew, the healer had returned to the tribes to see if she could help with their friend, Taklishim’s, recovery. What she was doing here with the King’s army was anyone’s guess.
When Nashotah, one of the Shona healers, had taken Taklishim back to the camps, no one believed the old shaman would recover from the grievous wound his grandson had given him. But, according to the messages Becca had sent, the old man had surprised everyone and not only survived but had regained the vigor of a much younger man.
As Bree rolled up her bedroll, the tent flap pushed aside, and Kaiti stuck her head through the opening. “Shimaa! Taklishim.” She motioned with her hand for her mother to come outside.
Bree glanced over her shoulder at the child. “Taklishim? Here?” She pointed to the tent wall to make sure the girl understood her meaning.
Kaiti nodded vigorously and once more motioned for Bree to hurry before ducking back out of the tent.
Bree watched as the tent flap fell into place. “What in Aevala’s name is Taklishim doing this far from the Shona lands?”
For the most part, the Shona occupied the Northeastern part of her duchy, their lands encompassing most of the Rittendon Peaks and some of the Ironmoor Forest. Granted, the King was passing to within a hard day’s ride of the Peaks on his way from Orinshire to King’s City, but that was still a challenging ride for a man as old as Taklishim.
Becca’s voice carried as she greeted one of the soldiers who called out to her from somewhere in the camp. Bree heard the quiet gravelly voice of her friend, Taklishim, and quickly pulled on her trews. “Well, I’ll be damned. He is here.” She buckled on the sheath that held her short sword balanced between her shoulder blades, pulled on her overtunic, and buckled her bandoliers in place. As she pushed in the last buckle, she called out, “Kaiti.”
The child pulled the flap up and secured the opening to the side of the tent, letting in some much-needed light as the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon.
Bree pointed to their bedrolls and supplies. “You need to pack while I go see what’s happening.” She mimed rolling up the bags, but Kaiti had already knelt to start the process of breaking camp.
Most of Kaiti’s life had been spent setting up and breaking down camp when she’d lived with the Shona. Bree had never seen anyone quite so quick at the task and marveled at the child’s talents. When she finished stowing all of her personal items, Bree stepped outside and saw Becca and Taklishim sitting outside the King’s pavilions.
Typically, as the King’s squire, Eavan would serve any important guests the King might entertain. But on this occasion, Bree was gratified to see that Leopold was honoring Taklishim by having the crown prince do the honors.
Eavan brought plates of food for Becca and the King.
Next to her, Darius made his way carefully toward Taklishim, tongue out as he concentrated on not spilling the beans and goat meat he’d piled onto the shaman’s plate.
Everyone watched the boy nervously as he hadn’t yet begun his training as a page, and as such, wasn’t yet skilled in the art of delivering plates of food.
Unlike the worried expressions on most everyone’s faces, Taklishim watched the boy with the quiet dignity the occasion required. His sparkling eyes shone with amusement as Darius made his way toward him. When the prince arrived in front of the shaman and handed down the plate to the seated guest, Taklishim schooled his features into a dignified expression. “You honor me, Young Leopard. I could ask for no better service than what you have given me today.”
Darius, ever the prince, gave a dignified bow, not as low as he would bow to a king or queen, but very nearly so. “Would you like some drink, Honored Father? Water or wine?”
Bree gave a grunt of approval when the boy addressed the shaman in the same manner a youngling in the tribes would address someone of Taklishim’s stature.
Taklishim gave the question serious thought. “I would have some water.”
Darius’ enthusiasm got the better of him, and he turned and raced to the nearest cook tent.
The King hid his smile behind his hand, and Jathez rolled his eyes.
Bree sat on a nearby log and accepted a plate from Eavan with a nod. “Thanks, Eavan. I’m starving. Somehow I missed dinner last night.” She glanced up plaintively. “Do you think you could find someone who might part with a little Fraval bread at one of the campsites? I know I smelled it last night, and for some reason, I’ve developed a craving for it this morning.”
The squire’s face brightened as she flashed her trademark smile. “Of course. My auntie’s a baker for the Tupper Tane Inn. Do you know the place? Just off the southern road out of town, down a small alleyway and back behind the maklers. She makes the best Fraval bread in the Kingdom, and she gave me a few loaves for the trip. I’ll be right back!”
After she left to fetch the bread, Darius returned with Taklishim’s water, which he handed to the shaman before stepping behind and to the right of the old man, where he would wait for further instructions.
Jathez, who’d taught many pages and squires during his tenure at the castle, nodded his approval.
Darius squared his shoulders and stood a little taller than before.
Bree addressed Taklishim. “I didn’t expect you to be here, my friend. Have you completely healed from your wound?” She pointed to her neck to indicate the slashing he’d taken in the cave.
He ran a finger along the raised welt the knife had carved across his throat. His voice was even more gravelly than it had been when Bree had first met him, most likely due to the injury. “Aevala allowed me to stay. I walked the Paths and spoke with her while still in the cave.” He grimaced in pain when he paused to clear his throat. “She told me I had earned the right to pass on to the Second Realm of Tane’iel.” He turned shining eyes on Bree. “I spoke to her of my life, of my people, and about the exciting times here on Aevalia. I said I would rather not miss the intriguing possibilities on our horizon.”
His eyes darkened. “And then, there is the return of the Teivaiedin...” He paused, shaking his head at the damage the demons had already wrought. “I believe my people and yours and even the Spirit Guides need the wisdom earned through age and experience if we are to once more lock this curse away in Aecheron.” He lifted a shoulder. “The goddess allowed me to stay.”
As Bree listened to him speak, she wondered how she could possibly be friends with a man who walked the pathways and chatted with the goddess.
Eavan returned with a thick slice of bread slathered with golden honey butter. She handed it to Bree with a flourish and a smile. “Here you are, Your Grace.”
Bree thanked her for it, then tore the piece in half and offered a piece to Taklishim.
He took it with a nod of thanks. Before Eavan turned to leave, he stared up into her eyes, partially closing his own as if examining her soul. When finished, he returned to his food without comment.
Eavan politely endured his scrutiny, then glanced at Bree to see if she’d noticed.
She had, but now wasn’t the time to question him. Instead, she took a bite of bread, moaning softly as the flavors melted across her tongue. Closing her eyes to fully appreciate the taste without distraction, she let out an involuntary groan of pleasure. “Goddess, Eavan. I’ve never tasted Fraval bread this good. Do you think I could entice your auntie to come and bake for the castle whenever I’m in Orinshire?”
Eavan shrugged. “I’m not sure.” She blushed a little. “My Auntie isn’t much for nobles. She was that angry when the châtelain chose me to become a page instead of following her into the bakery.” She touched the hilt of her short sword. “I was always better with the pokin’ than the kneadin’. I could ask her, though.”
Bree nodded her thanks as she scooped some beans onto her fork. She used the Fraval bread to soak up the gravy while listening to Taklishim speaking quietly with the King.
When Jathez saw that Leopold was close to finishing his meal, he gave the orders to pack the last of the dishes, saddle the horses and prepare the wagons.
Bree helped Taklishim stand, then walked with him to a wagon pulled by two Shona warhorses and driven by a young Shona warrior. She made sure the old man was comfortably wrapped in thick furs before quickly checking the pair of dark bays that made an impressive sight hitched to the front of the cavalry wagon.
Jathez must have procured the wagon for the old man to make his travels with the army that much easier on his swollen joints and aching bones.
Kaiti and Bree rode behind his wagon. Bree rode Rebel, and Kaiti proudly sat a gentle mare the queen had given her as a welcoming present several days after Arabetha and the King had arrived at Orinshire. A smoky-gray mane and tail complimented the little mare’s gleaming white coat. Kaiti had named her Miri, after a white streak in the sky the Shona believed was the bushy tail of the White Fox, Miri. They said the Fox accompanied Aevala on all of her travels through the Realms.
