The Queen of Mages

Dardan stared dumbly at the farmer. Was this a joke? A lie? Why would Yancey of all people deceive them? What if Yancey had been deceived? But he said he’d been sent by the countess, Dardan’s own mother.

  Asmus lurched forward on his horse. “Speak again, man,” he said, incredulous. “You say the king’s been murdered? By his own son?”

  Yancey nodded. “I heard the news… with my own ears, m’lords,” he said, beginning to catch his breath. “The countess, she said I was to take her best horse and head back here at all speed. She even gave me a pouch of silver to speed me along, she said, to buy new horses as mine got blown out,” and he produced a little leather pouch that clinked and handed it to Dardan. “I’m sorry it’s not fuller. I didn’t reckon I had time to haggle. This is the fourth horse I’ve been on, plus I spent a silver for a room at an inn last night. I’d been riding so hard I couldn’t barely walk for all the saddlesores, m’lord, begging your pardon.” He seemed to notice then that there were women present as well, and quickly doffed his hat. “Oh, uh, m’ladies.”

  Dardan’s initial shock was fading, but the uncertainty and the taste of bile rising up his throat were no better replacement. “Tell us from the start, sir.”

  The farmer nodded. “I’d brought some cows for sale at the market, and got my silver, and went to the countess’s house—er, m’lord’s house, I mean—to pay my respects, and see if she had any news for m’lord, since I was to head back out to the county. Was almost night, then, and she told me to sup with the servants and find a spare room, sayin’ there was no need for me to waste my coin on a city inn. So I slept, and when I woke the whole house was in a fit, like someone’d kicked an anthill. And I asked what was the matter, and one of the servants said the king was dead, and she broke down crying and couldn’t say no more. So I went to find the countess, who, um, begging your pardon, but she was mad as a hornet. She told me that it was true, the king was dead, and that his own son, the prince, had done it. And she put me on the horse and told me to bring that news to you, as soon as I could.” He wiped his brow, still sweating even in the evening chill. “I rode off just past dawn, yesterday morning, and thank the Caretaker, it was a swift ride.”

  Everyone stared at each other in the silence that followed. Even Asmus seemed rattled. “You’ve done well, son,” the count said, riding forward. “It’s late, and you’re in no state to ride back to your farm. You stay at the Kettle tonight, and keep this as a reward for your good service.” He took the pouch of silver from Dardan and handed it back to Yancey. “Don’t worry about the horses. This news is far more important than any few pieces of horseflesh. Did you learn anything else as you were leaving the city?”

  “No, m’lord. I saw few people about, but them I did see looked afraid. The guards at the Festival Gate let me out without so much as a glance. They looked to be arguing with each other.”

  The count nodded and dismissed the man, who walked his tired mount over toward the inn. “We must make haste to Tinehall,” Asmus said.

  ———

  Gerald was waiting at the door when they rode up. “M’lord is quite late,” he muttered, “and dinner has gotten cold.” A trio of stableboys darted out to assist the riders; Gerald went to Asmus’s horse himself.

  Asmus dismounted and handed the reins to the old house major. “We stayed long at Baroness Dyane’s, but other news has come.” He put a hand on Gerald’s shoulder. “The king is dead, sir.”

  In the flickering torchlight, Gerald’s somber face seemed to collapse in on itself. “The… what?”

  “It is true. Come, we must talk. Inside, all of you.” Dardan watched as the others filed past him into the house. Gerald sagged, holding himself upright only by the reins in his hand. Dardan went to him and took his arm. “Are you all right?”

  Gerald tried to steady himself. “I… I will be, m’lord, thank you. You best get inside.” Dardan nodded and went, turning back once to watch Gerald as he led the horse away.

  A fire roared in the sitting room’s hearth, and the wall sconces were all lit. The room was paneled in wood and decorated with hunting trophies. The dead-eyed animal heads sticking out from the walls had unnerved Dardan as a child. He’d grown used to them, but just now they seemed full of rancor and malice.

  Asmus warmed his hands at the fire. Even with the torches on their ride back to the manor, it had still been too dark to reliably make out expressions. Now Dardan saw woe, fear, and dismay on all sides. Amira seemed shocked, her face pale, as she settled into a chair. Katin stood firmly behind her, unwilling to move more than two feet away from her lady, as if a threat were present in the room with them. Liam furrowed his brow and chewed on his thumb. Old Ban was the only one who looked calm, although perhaps he was just better at hiding his distress.

  Dardan felt lost. He didn’t even know where to begin; what to think, what to say, what to do.

  Calys was the first to speak. “Why would Prince Edon kill his own father?” Dardan looked at her, and for all the times she had seemed like a miniature version of his mother—willful, cunning, energetic—in the flickering firelight she seemed little more than a scared child.

  “Calysane, go to your bed. I will speak to you in the morning.” Asmus’s voice was strained and low. He stayed facing the fire.

  It usually took brusque shouting to get Calys to do anything, but now she nodded and went out, Clara following after. Dardan gave his sister’s hand a quick squeeze as she went by.

  He went over to his father and spoke quietly. “Will Gerald be all right? He seemed distraught. I know he served the royal house before he entered our service, but…”

  His father glanced sidelong at him. “He knew King Viktor as a young man. They were friends. Gerald will grieve, but he will be fine.” Asmus straightened and turned around, facing the others. “We have much to do. I do not doubt Yancey’s tale, but we must prepare for whatever may come.”

  “What is likely to come, my lord?” Amira asked. There was a tremor in her voice, but still she looked Count Asmus right in the eye. The memory of the afternoon blossomed in Dardan again, only now a shadow lay across it.

  Asmus stalked around the edge of the room, looking up at the hunting trophies. “I cannot say for certain. I assume that Edon tired of his father’s disrespect and somehow managed to convince some younger lords to support him. But the king is no fool, and would not have let Edon build up a power base on his own. There must have been some treachery involved.”

  The political implications seemed less important to Dardan than the here and now. “We must send out messengers to all the barons,” Dardan said, “and to further north and east, into Tyndam and Everfleet, to inform our neighboring counts.”

  Asmus nodded. “Yes. And to the duke’s hold. Loram Arkhail is presumably still in Callaston, but the duchess and his seneschal must be informed. And we must send someone to Callaston to confirm the story, and find out whatever other news they can.”

  It seemed so obvious in retrospect that Dardan felt an idiot for not having thought of it. “Yes. I will go.”

  Asmus shook his head. “No. You must stay here, at least for now. I will need a right hand who carries my authority.”

  Dardan felt even stupider. Of course he had to stay. He was not thinking clearly; the whole day had thrown him for a loop. They’d left before dawn to go deal with another of Baron Parvis and Baroness Lalia’s spats, about some damaged wall between their lands. Asmus had ordered them to split the repair costs, which had led to another round of arguing. Finally the count had cursed them in a rage, threatening to exile them both to Vasland if they didn’t cooperate.

  Then the Tarians had ridden all the way back to Hedenham Town, and the whole engagement surprise had to be arranged. The afternoon’s euphoria had exhausted Dardan as much as all the riding, leaving him doubly tired.

  The count seemed to sense Dardan’s fatigue, and told him to get some rest at once. He agreed, but insisted upon escorting Amira to her own chambers first. The east wing of the mai
n house held several sets of comfortable apartments, including those of his siblings. Ilya’s were unoccupied for now, since he was bunking in town with the other apprentices. Those were meager accommodations compared to living in a manor house, but every time they spoke Ilya had some new adventure to recount. He seemed to like it there.

  Ilya. The boy would probably learn the news by the morning. Dardan itched to ride out and find his brother himself, but Yancey would no doubt recount his tale to everyone at the inn’s common room. The gossip would spread like wildfire. Ilya might have already heard.

  Dardan shook the thoughts away. Amira glided along beside him, subdued. They came to the apartments they’d lent her, Katin leading the way inside. Amira paused at the threshold. “My lord, this has been a day of both great joy and great sorrow. I pray that the light of day will raise our spirits.”

  “As do I. My… my lady.” My love, he almost said, but it seemed out of place. He bent down to kiss her hand, but she stopped him with a finger on his chin.

  “I do believe a betrothed couple is entitled to at least one of these,” and she leaned forward and kissed him.

  He had kissed girls before, of course, playing as children, or with maidens of the town when he was younger. But none of that had prepared him for this. All that passed through his mind was clouds and rain and silk and leaves rustling in the wind. After an eternity, Amira pulled back, her lips glistening. She opened her beautiful gray eyes and looked up at him. Whatever she saw made her grin wide. “Good evening, my lord,” she said, and closed the door.

  ———

  He woke at dawn, and lay abed for a few minutes. The reality of the previous night’s news came back slowly, almost like recalling a dream, but he knew it had been real. Soon the noises of morning activity drifted through his door, so he rose and summoned Liam to assist with his morning ablutions.

  His father found them at breakfast. “I’ve sent off three men to spread the news to Thorncross, Caswick, and Everfleet. And I sent Topher Belwin off to Callaston, to see what he can learn there.”

  “Belwin… the ironmonger’s son? Why him?”

  “He’s quick of wit and he blends in. Not that I expect him to need to engage in any subterfuge, but he was the best man I could think of for the job. Beyond that, today we must address the townsfolk and let them know that all is well.”

  “All is hardly well,” Dardan said around a mouthful of eggs. But he held up a hand before his father could argue. “I know. Reassurance is important.”

  The meeting was held out in the town square before the Copper Kettle. Someone brought out a box for Asmus to stand on as he shouted out to the townsfolk. Dardan stood beside his father, scanning the worried faces before him. Most of them looked shocked, as was to be expected. A king’s death was never pleasant, but the manner of Viktor’s death was almost too much to believe.

  Asmus did his best to reassure them, saying that even a king’s time came eventually. He reminded them that the harvest would be upon them before long and that they should keep their minds on the land and their work. After he was done, he spent a few minutes going through the crowd, stopping to shake hands and pat backs. Count Asmus was never quiet, not even now, but it was as if he left a trail of calm behind him as he went.

  They returned to Tinehall for a nearly silent luncheon. No one, not even Calys, had the gall to make idle conversation just now. Afterward Dardan asked Amira for a walk in the gardens, which she accepted. They passed by the flowerbeds and the manicured lawns, by the topiaries trimmed in the shape of mastiffs.

  His betrothed said little, so Dardan kept his peace as well. As they passed the reflecting pool at the far edge of the gardens, she came to a halt. “My lord—Dardan,” she corrected herself. “I must get used to calling you that.”

  Dardan smiled. “It will take time, I suppose.” He marveled that he could speak to her so easily now. His breath still caught whenever he saw her, but at least the debilitating nervousness had gone.

  “There’s something I must tell you. When…” She paused, and took a deep breath. “This is very difficult for me. Please, I beg your forgiveness in advance.”

  Something in her tone worried him. “What is it?”

  “Well… back in Callaston, when her majesty the queen spoke with us… I did not tell the whole truth about what Edon said to me.”

  Dardan was surprised. He glanced at Liam, who stood a few paces off, near Katin. The vala watched her lady intently. Liam raised an eyebrow and shrugged slightly.

  “Go on,” Dardan said. “What did he say?”

  “What I told everyone—told you—was that he’d accused me of hiring a witch to cast a spell on him. I implied that he’d used it as an excuse to have me brought to him, so that he could force himself upon me. But what he actually said was… slightly different.” Now she met Katin’s eyes. Her vala nodded urgently.

  Amira sighed. “What he actually said… was that he thought that I was a witch, and had put him under a spell myself. And that the only way to break it was for him to lay with me.”

  Dardan recoiled. “Black spirits! Is he mad? And why didn’t you tell us this before?”

  “I thought it didn’t matter. Something stopped me from quite saying the truth before Queen Alise, and once I’d told that story, it didn’t seem wise to try to clarify it. At the time, I hardly knew you and your mother. And besides, we were going to be far away from Edon. His family had banished him to their estates. I wanted to put it behind me. But now… I fear he may come for me.”

  Dardan blinked a few times, trying to come to terms with this awful news. He needed to marshal his thoughts, so he took a few slow steps away from Amira. How likely was Edon to actually come after her? If he really believed that he had to… to do this horrible thing…

  Before, he’d been only a lout of a prince. Now he was the king, a murderous king, if the tale was true. Dardan had to do something. He went back to Amira and took her hands. “Amira, my darling. I will speak to my father. We will make certain you are safe and protected.”

  “Thank you, truly,” she said, and the perfect smile on her face lit Dardan’s soul like never before. He silently cursed the black spirits again for throwing this obstacle before them. What did a sweet girl like this ever do to deserve the wrath of a monster like Edon?

  ———

  Count Asmus glanced up from writing something as they entered. Old Ban sat at the side table, squinting at parchments. “Can it wait?” Asmus said. “I’m amidst a letter to the Arkhails.”

  Dardan planted his feet. “We must speak. It is urgent.”

  Asmus paused, then sighed and lay down his quill. “What is it?”

  Dardan guided Amira to a seat before Asmus’s desk and sat beside her. “Lady Amira has told me something important.” He looked to his betrothed. “Do you wish to say it, or should I?”

  “Please,” Amira said. Dardan recounted their conversation in the garden.

  Asmus’s eyebrows nearly climbed off his face. “You really believe Edon would come and try again to kidnap you?”

  “He did it before. I see no reason why he would not do so again.”

  Asmus scoffed. “Before, he was merely an idle prince, whose misguided affections may have led him to do something untoward. Now he is a king and has far more pressing issues.”

  “‘Misguided affections’?” Katin said, not bothering to hide the scorn in her voice. “M’lord, Edon tried to rape her.”

  Asmus waved his hand. “Whatever you may call it, it is past, and a fluke. At that time, Lady Amira had no attachment to our house.” He pointed at Dardan. “Now she is your betrothed, and is due our protection.”

  “Edon will not know of our betrothal, and even if he does, he may not care,” Dardan argued. “Amira believes the threat is real, and so do I. We must ensure her safety in case Edon comes after her.”

  “Ensure her safety how? Fortify Tinehall? Build a bulwark around the town? Perhaps we should simply raise arms and march on Callas
ton!”

  “Foxhill Keep. We can hide there if Edon comes.” Foxhill Keep was an old abandoned fortification a mile or two north of the manor, just off the Thorncross road. Dardan had gone there many times as a child, exploring the ancient stones. It was still defensible, as he recalled, with a small keep surrounded by a stone wall. A few men could hold it easily. Not that he was expecting a siege; he just wanted a place to hide Amira if necessary. “All we need are some provisions, and a little warning.”

  Asmus laughed suddenly. “You’re as mad as Edon. You really suppose this is necessary?” He sighed. “Very well. I’ll humor you. But you can see to the provisioning yourself. If Edon does come… I suppose I’ll misdirect him, say you’ve gone off to visit Baroness Lalia or something.” Asmus stood up and irritably waved at them. “You’ve bedeviled me enough to last a month. Begone.” As they turned to go, Asmus said, “Dardan, wait. Tarry a moment.”

  Dardan gave Amira’s hand a squeeze before she and Katin left. He watched them go, then turned back to his father.

  Asmus spoke quietly, perhaps the quietest Dardan had ever heard from him. “If I do this, it would almost certainly count as treason. She had better be worth it.”

  Dardan puffed out his chest. “She is. I’d stake my life on it.”

  “You already have, my boy.”

  ———

  It was critical that the plan remain secret. Dardan caught up with Amira to remind her and Katin. He noticed during that conversation that Katin seemed to glare every time she looked at Liam. He wondered what that was about; hadn’t they been getting along?

  In the night, Dardan sent Liam to fetch supplies from the kitchen: beans, dried fruit, salt beef, hardtack. He had Katin pilfer a few blankets and pillows from the maids.

  Dardan and Liam packed it all up in sacks and rode to Foxhill Keep to stash it away. The only thing they didn’t have to bring was water; the keep had a cistern built into it, to catch rainwater, and it was still full enough to sustain a few people for a few days.

  As far as he knew, no one had seen them go. The missing supplies might be noticed, but in a house as large as Tinehall, sometimes things got misplaced for a while. No one would think anything of it.

  As they carried the supplies up into the keep, Dardan struck up conversation. “I never had a chance to ask how your little stroll with Katin went yesterday. It can’t have gone too poorly, considering her answer to the proposal. And yet I noticed her staring daggers at you today.”

  Liam grimaced. “Her acceptance was the only pleasant part of it, m’lord. I managed to muff the question the first time. She thought I was proposing to her.”

  Dardan laughed. “Really! Liam Silvertongue, I’d have thought to name you. I’m surprised you’ve spent so much energy chasing that woman and not caught her yet.”

  “I’m as surprised as you are, m’lord. Not to brag, that is. I’ve never met a woman who spurned me so easily, and yet persisted in giving me a chance.”

  “Perhaps the Caretaker is testing you,” Dardan said, unable to hide his smile. Liam just shook his head in wonder.

  CHAPTER 14

  AMIRA