The Wolf Lord
“You’re not stupid,” she said.
“That’s sweet, Lady Silver, but you don’t know me. In time, you’ll wish you could eat those words.”
She narrowed her eyes, controlling the impulse to smack him, and wrapped herself in poise as if it was a cloak. “I find that statement offensive. My acumen is excellent. My father told others that I was a worthless, brainless brat, more than once. Does that make it true?” Outrage swelled in her head, so much that her skull almost couldn’t hold it.
“Easy. I won’t insult your judgment again. If you’ve agreed to take me, I must be top drawer, right?”
A week ago, she might’ve said that their alliance was pure expedience, but that was before they fought together, and she witnessed firsthand his extraordinary valor. Maybe the elder Pineda had wanted a tactician for a son, one who studied old tomes and memorized battle tactics. Instead, he’d gotten a bit of a clown with a smile warm enough to melt the heart of winter.
“Precisely.”
Briskly, she rose to find Dr. Wyeth, who pronounced the patient well enough to go about his business. The medical procedures eased the strange atmosphere, so things felt normal by the time Raff got dressed. She walked with him back to his quarters.
“Is tomorrow too soon to hold the wedding?” she asked.
“I’m up to it. Seems like you should ask your people, though, not me. They’re the ones who will have to scramble all night to get it done.”
“The service and decorations will be simple. Don’t expect too much.” On some level, that bothered her. This shouldn’t be rushed, promises made haphazardly, under duress.
“I never do,” he said softly.
For some reason, hearing that hurt her heart.
The first thing Raff did was call his people to his quarters. Tavros turned up first, then Skylett and Bibi, and finally Janek. Magda didn’t answer to him, so he didn’t expect her obedience.
“We thought you were going to die,” Tavros said.
“I have a lot to do yet,” Raff said.
“That didn’t save Beren,” Janek pointed out.
While that might be true, such pessimism didn’t help. “Come in, all of you. I need to brief you.” Once everyone was settled, he filled them in on his decision. “I’ll send word to Pine Ridge shortly regarding allocation of soldiers and technology. I intend to stay here for the next three months to fulfill my part of the bargain.”
“I have mixed feelings,” Bibi said.
Since she looked so young, most would pay no heed to her words, but she was also the youngest Seer in pack history, so he had to ask. “What troubles you?”
“The portents are dark down this path. I see betrayal and shadows in your near future and I could not find a glimpse of you emerging from that darkness.”
Skylett shivered, wrapping her hands around her arms. “You know she wouldn’t make such a revelation lightly. Perhaps—”
“I should go back on my word because two crows flew past your window at daybreak? It’s not that I don’t believe in your gifts, Bibi, but my options are limited. In times like these, fortune favors the bold.”
“Then you’re determined to move forward?” Janek asked.
“I’d all but made up my mind before we arrived, and nothing I’ve seen here makes me want to withdraw. The time for considering input has passed.”
“Understood,” Tavros said. “When is the grand event?”
“Tomorrow, provided her people are up to the task. The place will be bustling. Janek, will you stand beside me in place of family?” In truth, they were only distant cousins on his father’s side, but it was better than nothing. Sky was closer to him in terms of friendship, as she was like a younger sibling, but she wasn’t an actual blood relation and that probably mattered for Eldritch ceremonies.
“I’m honored.”
He ignored that; it was the sort of thing the elder wolf said, even if he didn’t mean it. Old school manners had no modern equivalent.
“I’m not sure what the ceremony will be like, but please be tolerant, even if it seems strange.”
“Princess Thalia appears to be thorough,” Tavros said. “She will strive for something that honors both Animari and Eldritch ways.”
“That’s true enough,” he said, pleased that one of his people didn’t hate this prospect.
Thalia’s time in Pine Ridge would be a lonely nightmare if people didn’t warm up to her. He could well imagine the whispers, sideways glances, and the subtle exclusion from pack socialization. Just because three months was a flicker of light to her, that was no reason for her to suffer.
“Do you have other news?” Bibi asked.
“For now, I need you to focus on the issue of defending her lands and defeating her enemies.”
“As you wish.” Her flat tone said she wasn’t thrilled with the assignment or having her warning disregarded.
I already knew this wouldn’t be easy. Doesn’t take a Seer to know that.
He turned to Tavros. “Get with the guards and see if you can find anything out about House Gilbraith. I need to know what kind of numbers they can field, how much sway they have over the other two, Manwaring and Vesavis. Learn what you can about them, too.”
“I can help in terms of historical house power, if not current military standing,” Janek said.
Right, that’s why I brought him. Of all the pack, he knows the most about Eldritch doings.
“Stick around and have a drink with me, old wolf. The rest of you are dismissed.”
The three young ones bowed and hurried off, leaving Raff to pour a drink for Janek. Handing over the tumbler, he said, “My attention span isn’t long, so try to make this a teacup history lesson.”
“As best I can. Vesavis is the least of the houses, politically insignificant and eternally hungry. They’re known for treachery and would not hesitate to make a deal and then break if they saw advantage elsewhere. On several occasions, they’ve nearly been wiped from existence when some intrigue imploded. I would not depend on them for support.”
“Noted. And Manwaring?”
“Informally, they’re known among the Eldritch as the Gray.”
“What does that mean?”
“They put up a pretext of neutrality while secretly working toward their own ends. The fact that they’ve come out against the princess so early in the game is quite disturbing.”
Times like this, Raff would’ve traded a year of his life for a quick brain like Korin’s. “Spell it out for me.”
“It means they don’t see her as a true threat. If they feared her reprisal, they wouldn’t have acted so fast. In my opinion, this heralds a power shift. You should prepare yourself for the other three houses to align with Gilbraith.”
“Tell me about them.”
“They have been vying with House Talfayen for centuries, and they have a sprinkling of royal blood in their lineage. Not a direct declination like Princess Thalia, but enough through a distaff family connection that it has been impossible for anyone in either family to take the throne.”
“Do you think her decision to ally with me will ultimately hurt her cause?”
Janek hesitated.
“Don’t swallow it. Tell me the truth!”
“Likely, yes. The Eldritch will see it as weakness and desperation instead of a wise strategic maneuver.”
Raff showed his teeth; it did not qualify as a smile. “Then we’ll prove them wrong, old wolf. Give me something I can use.”
“Since Vesavis is known to be untrustworthy, we could work to weaken the cohesion of those allied against us.”
“You mean, make Gilbraith and Manwaring think that Vesavis is hedging its bets, ready to flip if things look good for Thalia?”
“It’s probably not even that far from the truth,” Janek said. “We’d only be hastening that conclusion.”
“Divide and conquer, works for me. Put together a concrete plan and tell me what resources you need to get it done. Thalia will want to know, a
s soon as you’re ready.”
“As you say.” Taking that as dismissal, Janek drained his drink and rose. “She will help us, won’t she? When the time comes.”
Raff couldn’t even blame the old wolf for his doubts. It was hard not to fear the worst since historically, wolves had no close ties to the Eldritch. If she was like the assholes in House Vesavis, she might take their help and then later, let Pine Ridge burn when Tycho’s forces hit the border.
It’s not like she loves me, or my people. But…
“If I’m good at anything, it’s reading people’s hearts. And I’m betting my life that she keeps her promises,” he said.
“That’s good enough for me.”
Raff walked Janek to the door and was startled to find Thalia frozen, her hand suspended as if she’d been about to knock. The old wolf greeted her like a courtier in passing by. Heat flooded Raff’s cheeks, blazing worse than any fever.
Dammit all, she caught me being sincere.
“Did you mean it?” she asked.
No pretense that she hadn’t overheard.
This, this was why he thought that. While she might be good at scheming and intrigue, with him, she was as straightforward as an arrow to the heart.
He answered in a gruff tone, wishing she’d go away. “I’m not in the habit of saying shit I don’t mean.”
“Neither am I, Lord Wolf. But then, you seem to know that quite well already.” To his astonishment, she kissed his cheek before rushing away.
8.
Thalia didn’t sleep that night.
Not because she’d yielded to impulse, but because there was so much to prepare for the wedding service. First, she stopped in the kitchens to see how the food for the feast was coming along. The staff was too busy chopping to spare more than a moment.
“Do you need anything?” she asked.
“Please don’t trouble yourself,” the head cook said.
Which translated roughly to, ‘please get out of my kitchen’. Thalia was familiar with such code and didn’t dally among the boiling pots. She met Lileth in the back corridor, and it seemed as if the older woman was looking for her. Lil wore a grave expression, one that heralded nothing good.
“Problem?” she asked.
“Gavriel wants a word.”
Thalia swallowed a sigh. “Can it wait?”
“I don’t think it can.”
If he deemed it important enough to interrupt her work, she’d better make time. “Is he in the strategy room?”
“He was when I left.”
“On my way. Why didn’t he call me?”
Lil’s expression darkened. “The connection may not be secure.”
As she headed to hear Gavriel’s grim tidings—which could be the name of a particularly gloomy children’s tale—it occurred to her that this was a hell of a way to spend the night before her wedding. While Thalia had never fantasized about what it would be like, she had never imagined that she’d be forced to such a strategy by threats from all sides. There would be no tender words or floral bouquets, no time spent putting scented lotion on her skin in hopes that her chosen mate found her beautiful.
Thalia didn’t have close friendships, either, nobody to gather in her room and giggle over how wonderful or terrible her first night might be. For her, such relationships constituted vulnerability. She had supporters, not confidants, and while she didn’t regret the choices that had kept her safe, sometimes security was lonely.
Gavriel stood before the window, staring out the narrow opening into the dark. He turned as she entered, a shadow with red-hot coals for eyes. Sometimes his intensity gave her the shivers, for devotion like his could turn dark under the right circumstances. He executed a brief bow, waiting for her to reach the grouping of chairs arranged on a worn antique rug.
“Sit down,” she invited.
“I’ll be brief. I know that you’re busy.”
“Go ahead.”
“I would like to be discharged from your direct service,” he said quietly.
Of all the words she could’ve pictured Gavriel speaking, those never came to mind. She covered her surprise with a question. “Will you tell me why?”
“Magda Versai is pursuing an investigation related to the disappearance of the Ash Valley second. I believe the trail could lead us to an insurgent stronghold, where your father’s followers are hiding.”
“So it’s likely that the jaguar cut a deal with my father and is now working for the traitors and the Golgoth?”
Gavriel lifted a shoulder, never one to make judgments before all facts were available. “She picked up a hint of him from one of our patrols, but everything was in such disarray that we can’t be certain if he was a captive or actively cooperating.”
“What I’m gathering is that you would like the freedom to pursue this on your own?”
She didn’t say what else she knew to be true—that this was likely an excuse to get out of Daruvar before the wedding. Sometimes it was so hard pretending to be oblivious, but she’d thought it best to salve his pride this way. Otherwise, she would’ve had a candid conversation with Gavriel long ago. Thalia suspected he loved the idea of her more anyway, a sort of knightly devotion.
“Exactly so. Will you release me from your service?”
A pang of regret went through her. Through the years, there had been nobody more dedicated or loyal than Gavriel. If she released him, she didn’t doubt that he would keep working for her benefit, but he would no longer take orders directly from her. Replacing him would take some doing, as she’d been counting on him to lead the Noxblades and train replacements in the future.
She let out a soft sigh and then nodded. “Follow your own path from here. Send word if you learn anything important.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“When are you leaving?”
“As soon as the tiger woman is ready.” The descriptors sounded vaguely pejorative spoken in that tone.
“Then be safe.” She didn’t say she would miss him, though that was true, it might also foster false hope.
“You as well.” He hesitated, but in the end, he chose to swallow whatever words hovered at the tip of his tongue.
Just as well.
“Could you do me one last favor?”
“What is it?” He looked wary, wisely enough.
“Recommend your successor of the two who returned with you from Hallowell.”
“Ferith, definitely. She has the most experience. Tirael is too young and is impulsive in the bargain. Was that all?”
“Yes, thank you. Take care, Gavriel.”
With a bow, he excused himself and Thalia didn’t watch him go. End of an era. Once, she’d taken for granted that he would be the silent sword behind her throne. Their roads had diverged unexpectedly and might not join again.
Wearily she went to the hall to check on the decorations. They seldom used this room, as it was large and cold, but apart from the courtyard, there was no space large enough for everyone at Daruvar to bear witness. The staff had dug out some truly archaic decorations and were bedecking the halls with them, no time to order anything or wait for supplies. If this wedding seemed rustic and rushed, so be it.
“How are things going?” she asked.
A young page dipped at the waist in a nervous obeisance, twisting her hands before her. “Well, Your Highness, there aren’t enough chairs, not anywhere in the fortress, and we don’t have a red carpet anywhere. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Thalia cut into the apology with a careless gesture and a reassuring smile. “You can only do what’s possible with the resources available and the time allowed.”
“Understood, Your Highness.”
Her eyes burned, dry and sore, but she had one more stop before she could snatch a few hours of rest. At this hour, the chapel was deserted, moonlight streaming in the etched silver stained glass. The mosaics were so old here that she could scarcely make out the pictures, and the candles had been dark fo
r decades. It seemed a minor miracle that the sparker allowed her to light the tapers, one by one. They were melted, ancient, and misshapen, but lucky for Thalia, they still kindled to flame.
In the best of all possible worlds, she wouldn’t be doing this alone. Her family should be beside her, gathered to pray for her happiness and prosperity, but their numbers had never been great, and now she was alone, the last of her line. At this point, Ruark Gilbraith was her closest living relative, and he wanted to marry her to unite their bloodlines, so he wouldn’t be lighting any candles. Still, while she had abandoned some of the old ways, she wouldn’t omit this quiet vigil.
“Mother, guide me as I take my first steps to my new life. Help me remember that truth is not always wisdom and that compassion is always required. I will do my best to be worthy of the task you have entrusted to me. Watch over me and keep me from harm.” She whispered a few more words in Old Eldritch, her pronunciation rough and slow.
Traditionally, she ought to pray to her father as well, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask for his aid, not when their ideology had diverged so completely. He’d probably hex me if he has any power in the afterlife. Thalia knelt on the cold stones for a long time, until her knees went from sore to stiff to numb and she had to use her hands to pull herself upright.
That should be enough reverence.
Carefully, she blew each candle out and sat in the darkness, unable to move. In the morning, everything would change.
Sleep was impossible.
Magda had just left, after offering a cryptic, ‘I have a trail to follow’. If Raff had any illusions that they had formed a bond, her casual departure would’ve dispelled them. His body hurt with a low-grade ache, but the wound was healed, at least. It looked like it would scar, making him unique among Animari.
In the middle of the night, they had only a skeleton crew on watch, which permitted him to wander the hallways unimpeded. A few guards bowed or asked if he needed directions. Raff only shook his head. He didn’t even know what he was looking for, but he was too restless to sleep. The days he’d spent laid up took a toll since he was used to grueling physical activity. As he rounded a corner, he smelled the distinctive odor of burning tallow and the sharp scent of a flame recently extinguished.