Duchess Rising, page 3
Several candlemarks of quiet riding passed without incident. Just as Bree wondered when Jathez would call a halt for lunch, Becca trotted up on her roan. She checked to make sure Bree’s color was still good after two days of riding. “How’re you holding up?”
“Fine. I still get headaches every now and again, but they’re getting better.” She motioned to the back of the wagon carrying the shaman. “So, I wanted to ask you this morning, why did Taklishim show up at our camp? Is he going to ride with us the entire way to King’s City?”
Becca shrugged. “He might. He believes the fate of the Seven Realms is dependent upon the Shona and the Anacafrians working together to defeat the Teivaiedin. He’s determined to awaken as many people as he can to the presence of their Spirit Guides. That includes Jathez, Darius, and, most importantly, the King.”
Becca’s White Wolfe, Garan, spoke as he materialized between the horses. Fat chance he’ll have of awakening the King and his man. The prince, maybe, but Leopold… Rebel and the roan ignored him, but Kaiti’s Miri pricked her ears forward and began prancing sideways.
Bree grabbed the mare’s reins near the bridle and pulled her in close to Rebel’s side. “Must you always drop in unexpectedly like that? You just spooked Kaiti’s horse.”
Garan trotted forward until he could get a good look at Miri beneath Rebel’s neck. Spooked? She has the heart of a warrior. She’s simply excited to see such a magnificent specimen from another Realm.
Bree looked to her right and left, then over her shoulder. “And just where would that specimen be hiding?”
Garan barked a laugh. A cruel, cruel arrow to my heart.
When she was in her saddle, the giant Wolf’s shoulders came to about the middle of her calves. She reached down and scratched between his shoulder blades. “Has anyone had any luck finding Rhia’en?”
Bree looked at Becca. “Who’s Rhia’en?”
She’s the Guide for Zia, Taklishim’s daughter. She went missing two days ago, and no, Sheyah, no one has found her yet. Denabi and I have been concentrating on searching Bendi since that’s Rhia’en’s home Realm.
Bree knew that some of the Spirit Guides had recently been killed walking the pathways, and she wondered if that was Rhia’en’s fate. “What kind of Guide is she?”
“A Civet. Not very aggressive or assertive. I think that’s why Zia’s husband, Tsoe, can bully her so easily.”
“Do you think she’s dead like those other Guides who were staked out along the pathways?”
You say ‘staked out’ as though it were a small thing, Duchess. Garan’s throaty growl brought Bree up short. To stake out and blood one of the Peshár is to remove us from existence forever. The White Wolf, who was still trotting between Rebel and the roan, looked over his shoulder at Bree. She is still alive. As we all discovered when the Teivaiedin first appeared, if a Guide is killed by them, the apprentice dies as well. Zia lives, so we know Rhia’en lives. The time where Spirit Guides were immortal has passed. Even the gods search their Realms for her.
They rode in silence, each wrestling with their own thoughts about the Teivaiedin. The landscape they rode through was becoming more and more open, with meadows of yellow grass stretching out on either side of the trail. In the distance, Bree could see the evergreen trees that filled the Forest of Aeval. That meant they were nearing the border of Danforth and would soon leave her duchy and enter Cafria.
Garan lifted his nose high. Ugh, the dust down here is ruining my glossy shine. With that, he loped forward and jumped into the wagon where Taklishim lay resting.
Becca watched him go. “Rhia’en is such a gentle Guide. I wish I could walk the paths and help search for her.”
“I’ve been thinking, Becs. We’re going to be fighting the war on both fronts—the Teivaiedin and possibly Organdy. The King made it clear that my first allegiance is to him if war breaks out. If every person has a Spirit Guide, and the Teivaiedin win and can stake out and blood all the Spirit Guides, doesn’t that mean everyone in Anacafria will be dead as well?” Bree hoped she was wrong, but the piercing look Becca gave her told her that her thinking was right on the mark.
Becca ran her hand through the roan’s black mane. “Why do you think Aevala allowed Taklishim to stay? By all rights, he was a dead man in the cave. He’d lost more blood than even a healthy young warrior can lose and still survive, let alone an old man with one foot hovering over his grave. In all the Shona legends, I’ve never heard of that happening. And why do you think Taklishim is here, riding in the back of a wagon on his way to King’s City?”
Bree looked to the head of the column where the King rode his chestnut stallion. “I don’t know the answer to any of those questions. What I do know is that Kaiti is important to the Spirit Guides and to the battle with the Teivaiedin, but she’s coming with me to King City and then probably on campaign. I have Ellsworth to see to the duchy while I’m with the King, but if she’s with me, how can she help the Guides in the battles for the spiritual Realms?”
Kaiti heard her name and glanced over at her mothers. They seemed to be in a serious conversation about something, but she didn’t understand all of their words. She did recognize the tension in the air, however, and that worried her. Twice now, her first mother had sent her away, and even though she’d told her that would never happen again, Kaiti didn’t fully trust her word. Leaning forward so she could see around Bree to Becca, she asked the healer, “Is she talking about sending me away?”
Becca, who spoke both Shona and Anacafrian, answered immediately. “No. We’re talking about the battles that are coming.” She pointed to the front and then swung her arm around, indicating the entire army surrounding them. “The King is gathering his soldiers to fight with his neighbor who comes from across the great sea, and we also have the Teivaiedin to battle. She’s wondering how she can help with both enemies at the same time.”
To Kaiti’s way of thinking, fighting battles on two fronts was much better than being sent away again. “That’s good. Fighting battles is bad but being sent away is worse.”
“Kaiti, Bree gave you her word she’d never send you away again. You need to believe her. You’re going to have to learn her language, though, because I won’t always be around to translate.”
Bree listened to the two of them and wondered what they were talking about.
Becca saw the frustration on her friend’s face and told her what Kaiti had said.
Bree looked down at the girl, then back at Becca. “I really did some damage by sending her away, but I’m torn between taking her on campaign if a war breaks out and sending her back to the tribes with you. Queen Arabetha also gave me the option of having her stay with her at the castle, but I don’t think that would work.” She sighed. “But luckily, I don’t need to come to a decision right this second. Today I’m enjoying the ride on this ornery old boy.”
She patted Rebel’s neck, which reminded her of something she’d meant to follow up on with her friend. “When you went back to Ashton Fork, were you able to find anyone who could take care of my animals?”
“I did, and I think you’ll like my solution. Do you remember Alilya and Bennet Coles? They’re the ones we met on the trail who were moving to Ashton Fork. Remember? They were riding in the coach with their daughter, who was Kaiti’s age.”
“I remember. I told them to find Mauran when they got there.”
“Well, do you also remember that small piece of land Emi and Mardi Stiles cleared behind the Temple of Aeval?”
Bree glanced thoughtfully at her friend. “Didn’t they die at the same time as Timur?” Bree’s wife, Timur, had died when a particularly virulent form of influenza raced through the villages of Ashton Fork and Foxtail Run, killing nearly a third of the inhabitants of both places.
Nodding, Becca continued, “The land’s been lying vacant, and Mauran asked for a village vote about whether to give the property to Bennet and Alilya. The vote was unanimous, except for old Jerin, who wouldn’t vote aye even if it were his own mother who needed the help. Anyway, they didn’t have anywhere to stay while they built their cabin, so I made them a deal. I told them they could live in your steading if they would take care of the animals and your plantings.”
She glanced at Bree out of the corner of her eye. “And I asked them to tend Timur’s gardens as well.” That last made her slightly nervous since Bree hadn’t allowed anyone to help her bury her wife or help tend her burial garden.
Bree thought about that a minute. She didn’t like the idea of people living in her home, and she especially didn’t want them in Timur’s garden. Still, she couldn’t ask the neighbor to keep going twice a day to feed her animals either. “They seemed like good enough people. Does either Bennet or Alilya know anything about animals? I’m not sure, but I think they might have been part of the nobility of Organd—” The thought hit her like a lightning bolt. She turned and stared at Becca.
The healer caught her friend’s sudden alert expression. “What?”
“Becs, they’re from Organdy, remember? That tells me they’re either spies sent to blend into Anacafrian society, or they’re a wealth of important information on what is really happening in Desdamea’s kingdom. Either way, when you go back, you’re going to have to figure out which it is.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s the latter. I spoke with them when I helped them move into your steading. Alilya is actually third cousin to Queen Desdamea. Do you remember the attempted coup last summer? You know, when half of Desdamea’s nobles rose up against her?”
Bree nodded.
“Well, Alilya’s father was one of the leaders. Desdamea beheaded both him and his wife. Alilya, Bennet, and Cylia Mari were barely able to flee. They were lucky. Bennet was a trader who did most of his business with the trading ships that sailed into Port Aret. A captain friend of his smuggled the three of them onto his ship and snuck out of the harbor in the middle of the night.”
“That makes sense. I remember Alilya not wanting anyone to know she was from Organdy. If that’s the case, I’ll speak to Jathez about sending one of his spies to talk to them. Their inside knowledge might just prove invaluable.”
As though he’d heard his name, Jathez glanced over his shoulder at them before calling a halt for the midday meal.
Bree and Kaiti rode to the front of the column to join Leopold and Darius while Becca went to Taklishim’s wagon to make sure he was faring well on the journey. They were typically given a candlemark for the midday meal, and everyone was happy even for that short amount of time out of the saddle.
CHAPTER 3
Bree blocked Kalsik’s downward blow with the wooden blade of her practice sword. Jathez had halted the column after seven candlemarks of travel and after dinner, Bree decided there was no time like the present to begin the long process of beating her body back into fighting shape.
Kalsik served on Darius’ protection detail precisely because of his skill with the sword. He also trained common soldiers, squires, and knights alike during his tenure at King’s City.
Early in his reign, Leopold had decreed that everyone who fought under his banner must have access to skilled instruction. To that end, he provided trainers for every man and woman under his command, regardless of rank or age.
Kalsik pivoted left, bringing his sword low across his body, telegraphing an apparent strike to Bree’s midsection.
The second Bree moved to counter, she knew she’d been had.
Kalsik waited for her weight to shift as she blocked his feint, and when it did, he caught the edge of her blade on his and forced both swords up high. He grabbed her sword arm in his free hand before angling the tip of his own sword downward, stopping inches from Bree’s exposed neck.
Bree shook her head and pushed the sword aside before bracing her hands on her knees to catch her breath. “That’s the sixth time you’ve killed me. I used to be able to drag you pups all over the practice pens before taking you out. Now, look at me.” She pulled her leather trews away from her body to allow air to circulate and watched the sweat drip from her brow and land in the dirt at her feet.
Kalsik retrieved a towel from Kaiti, who watched from the sidelines. He winked at the child before handing the towel to Bree. “Your technique is better than most, Your Grace. Your problem is that you’ve lost muscle, both here,” He touched her upper arm, “and here—” he pointed to her midsection, “— that you need to wield the sword. If you really intend to get back into fighting shape, you should ask Rocca if you could borrow his sword to practice your forms every night and every morning. He’s a big man, and his weapon is heavier than most. Once you bring your muscles back to fighting form, I’ll lay odds you’ll beat me more often than you lose.”
Bree accepted the proffered towel. She looked up at the handsome young man with the aristocratic face and curly brown hair. His lean, muscular body towered over hers so that even she needed to raise her chin to look into his eyes. His gambeson and boots were made of good quality leather, as was his halberd, although the shine had worn off from many winter moons of battle and practice. She tried to guess his age and finally asked, “Were you old enough to fight in the Estian wars?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Yes, just barely. If you can call being a squire to Sir Jensin of Deerford Duchy being in a war. He was already an old knight then and didn’t see many battles. But the experience was exhilarating for a young lad of thirteen summers. I think that’s part of why King Leopold assigned me to Prince Darius. I know what it’s like to be in a war at such an early age.”
“Your family’s from Deerford then?”
He shot her a mischievous grin. “You don’t recognize me, do you, Your Grace?”
Bree studied his face. Nothing about the young man was familiar until she focused on the distinct, greenish-gray eyes that held tiny flecks of gold throughout. “Don’t tell me you’re one of Gregrin’s brood? He’s sired so many children I’m sorry to say I lost track. I seem to remember he named one of his sons Kalsik, but that’s such a common name I never made the connection.”
Even though Gregrin was her uncle, she’d never been especially close to his family. His first wife, Vichois, was a mean-spirited harridan who’d spitefully done everything she could to demean Bree and her skills as a warrior. Jealousy, and a slight trace of insanity, ran strongly in her blood. In Bree’s mind, it had been no great loss when Vichois had left Gregrin for a wealthier and much younger noble from the northern Duchy of Salth.
Kalsik gave her a playful bow, swinging his arm across his midsection in a dramatic gesture. “Kalsik Redland Leopold Amranth, Viscount Zarad, of the Duchy of Deerford, at your service, Madame.”
Bree laughed at his self-deprecating manner. She liked the young man and could clearly see why Leopold wanted Darius to spend time with him. “Where did you learn your excellent swordsmanship?” She pointed at the five concentric circles embroidered on his left sleeve. “Jathez appointed you a senior instructor at a fairly young age. That takes some doing.”
He took her practice sword and held both his and hers in one big hand while he spoke. “I’m the eighth son of a duke, tenth bairn out of thirteen living offspring. I knew I’d never inherit Deerford.” He shrugged. “And most of the good steadings in the duchy have already been claimed by my older brothers and sisters, so I decided to make a name for myself as a knight. I think you knew our arms master at Deerford, Sir Negril Richond?”
A smile lit Bree’s face. “Of course. One of the best swordsmen I’ve ever known. If he tutored you in the art, it’s no wonder you’ve become so proficient.” Bree glanced over her shoulder as Eavan ran up.
“Your Grace. The King needs to see you. He says it’s urgent.”
Bree nodded her thanks to Kalsik and handed him her towel before starting for the King’s pavilion. She hesitated a moment, then turned back to the young man who was inspecting the wooden edges of both swords for damage. “Kalsik, I’ve seen you training Darius in weapons practice. Would you consider training Kaiti as well?”
Kalsik hesitated, and Bree wondered if it was because Kaiti was considered a Shona half-breed. She sighed with relief when he walked over and took Kaiti’s forearm in his big hand and measured it with a thumb and forefinger.
“She’s too small for the regular practice swords. With your permission, I’ll take her to the weapon’s smith and ask him to fashion one that would fit her hand as well as her reach.” He turned the girl in a circle. “I doubt she’ll ever grow tall enough to battle anyone conventionally, but I’ll teach her some tricks I taught my younger sister, Yoren when she wanted to become a knight.”
“Your Grace….” Eavan anxiously gestured for Bree to attend the King.
“Right. That would be excellent. Thank you, Kalsik. You can take her after supper tonight if you will.” She turned and once again followed Eavan. When the young woman began wending her way through the encampment instead of going straight to the King’s tent, Bree wondered where they were headed. “The King’s not at his pavilion?”
Eavan shook her head. “No. Taklishim had that young warrior of his set up their tent on the outskirts of the encampment. The King was over talking to him when a messenger arrived from Port Suliet.”
Several of the soldiers politely greeted Bree as she strode through the camp, and she absently nodded at each one as she passed. She kept a standing militia at Orinshire and had brought about two hundred soldiers along at the King’s request. More would follow once Ellsworth gathered them from the outlying areas.
Since the King wanted her back as one of his lord commanders, Bree needed able-bodied men and women to augment the soldiers already sworn to her standard. But, she needed more than just the fighting force. She’d also need the camp regulars, the cooks, tanners, hunters, and blacksmiths so critical to running an army on the move.
