Chapter Two ~ The Duke of Latoph
The newest scullery maid gawked at his attire: a silk shirt with loose upper sleeves and long close cuffs, a finely tailored jerkin, butter-soft kidskin breeches, knee-length boots shined to perfection, and a floor-length manteau of velvet—all in solid black. His manteau was fastened with a silver and onyx tasseau and the hem swirled about his frame, licking at his ankles as if having a life of its own. He smiled and winked at the scullery maid, sending her back to work with reddened cheeks.
Purposeful strides delivered him to his private alcove where an Elva woman held a stalwart kneel. She bowed her head as he approached, then straightened her back to appear even more poised than before. Her gaze didn’t venture above his knees. She wore a modest dress of silver chintz, trimmed in black satin ribbon.
“Sorry to leave you alone so long, timna,” he said softly. Vahn slipped into the velvet-padded chair—a high-backed piece carved of ebony, that looked more like a throne in contrast to the roughly hewn seats scattered elsewhere. The duchess’ throne stood empty, as did the other benches and stools positioned around his table. He reached for the silver chalice he’d left on the table.
“It has not been that long, Master Vahn. Would you like for timna to bring more wine?”
“You were here the whole time with my cup, yes?”
“Yes, Master. timna never left her post.”
“Then what I have is fine,” he said, resting the chalice on the arm of his throne. He really wasn’t in the mood to drink anyhow. His free hand settled on the other arm, long, slender fingers tapping nervously on the silver-gilded ebony.
“Is everything all right, Master?” timna asked.
Vahn paused and glanced down at her. She waited patiently for his answer, concern evident in gray eyes lifted to his face, but never meeting his gaze. There was so much he wanted to share. Rebono Keep would have been a preferable venue, but he couldn’t contain the news. He shot a look around the tavern. The closest occupied table was at least twelve feet away and none of the other patrons seemed to pay any heed. His thin lips curved into a smile.
“I just found out,” he confided in hushed excitement, “that the Archmage visited my father when Arx and I were born. In the thousand years of Rebono reign, twins had never been born to even minor nobility, much less to the king himself. The Archmage prophesied that we were a miraculous sign indicative of the influence of Calla and Cana. He advised Father to treat us with absolute equality in the same way that neither sun can outshine the other nor claim greater ownership of the Heavens.”
timna’s charcoal gray hair shone like satin. Vahn ceased his nervous tapping and ran his long fingers through it, calming them both. She nodded at appropriate moments, assuring him she was listening. Vahn kept all his whispers barely audible.
“But Father didn’t want to split the kingdom, so he had the Archmage’s portents sealed and forbade him to speak of it. Father made a kingdom-wide decree on our Presentation Day. Although he was only seven minutes older,” Vahn fumed, “Arx was declared Heir Apparent while I was named the duke. Father didn’t even make excuses for ignoring the Archmage. If anyone thought it defied the tradition of Twin Inheritance, he couldn’t dare voice it.” Vahn took a quick swallow of the wine and let the chalice drop back to the chair’s arm. He controlled his movement just enough to prevent the wine from splashing out or the chalice foot from ringing in its impact.
timna’s eyes grew wide. He expected that she had heard the rumors about his resentment. She comprehended the enormous trust he bestowed to reveal the depths of his aggrievement to her. She was optimess, the head of the household staff. Over the two years he had owned her, he had never known her to break a confidence, though this was the most sensitive information he had ever shared. Usually his wife was the one he bared his heart to. But the pregnancy had made her much too moody lately. In fact, he wasn’t sure he had ever made Saerula completely understand his past.
timna waited patiently at his feet. She didn’t look up or speak. She would listen to whatever he cared to share and never press him for more than he needed to say. Now that he had opened the floodgates, it was hard to stop. He slid his fingers through her hair and recommenced.
“After Father’s murder and Arx’s hasty coronation, I offered Arx help. I offered to come to Occi and bring men to assist with the investigation. Arx not only refused, he made a royal proclamation that I was to remain within the borders of my duchy.”
timna gasped lightly. Someone entered through the front doors, looked around, and turned toward the exit again. Vahn didn’t get a good look, but he dismissed it from his thoughts when the stranger left.
Vahn’s face twisted into a scowl as he looked back at timna. “I know,” he hissed. “But Arx made it sound so unselfish, like he could handle this easily and for me to leave would put the duchy at risk.” His whisper lowered to a voiceless expulsion of air. “My brother’s incompetent envoys only annoyed the king of Senkra.” He knew he was saying more than timna could understand. It didn’t matter; maybe it was even better that she didn’t understand. “That’s when the skirmishes started. Again, I offered men and supplies to help stabilize the border. Again, Arx put his distrust of me ahead of the kingdom’s best interest. He refused ever-so-politely, shamelessly spewing assurances of his self-sufficiency and competence—”
Vahn quieted abruptly as two strangers approached. The man was the one who had entered and left just moments earlier. timna turned to face the same way, straightening her kneel at the side of his throne. She smoothed her skirt and held her head up proudly, displaying a brightly polished silver band around her neck. Vahn beamed inwardly at her statuesque bearing. He set his chalice on the table and directed his gaze to the man accompanying a young maiden toward his alcove.
It was Keedrina’s first time in a tavern. The curiosity of it all distracted her from her grim purpose. Lamplight danced over the stone walls, mingled with suns’ light streaming through the windows. The air smelled of fireplace soot and lamp oil. The memory of smoke caused her stomach to lurch. Most of the numerous oaken tables were vacant, though she guessed this was due to the hour of the day. A few patrons held quiet discussions over pewter tankards and trenchers of stew.
The healer took her hand and pulled her toward a far corner. Keedrina took one look at the alcove and lost all nerve. The very sight of the impressive nobleman seated in a throne caused her to gasp. She tried to wriggle from the healer’s grip, but he held all the tighter.
An Elva woman knelt beside the throne. She was banded like moxi, but her bands were all brightly polished silver and had no little connection rings emerging from them. The slave was so incredibly still and so flawlessly beautiful that she appeared at first a statue. Watching the handsome young Elva slipping his fingers through her hair sent a warm shiver over Keedrina.
The healer spoke first. “I am Pharn Patkus, your highness, a healer of Ny. Might I have a moment?” The healer bowed his head and bent at the waist.
The man in the throne stood, towering a full eight feet. Keedrina gulped at his sheer presence. She had not expected a nineteen-year-old, even an Elva, to be that tall. She studied his fancy clothes, sleek black hair, piercing black eyes, the quiet strength of his willowy carriage. It was no wonder every female in Ny envied the duchess.
He extended his hand and the two men grasped each other’s wrists and shook. “Well met, Lord Patkus. I am Vahn Rebono and this is timna, my optimess.”
Keedrina stared in awe, willing her jaw shut. His voice was deep-pitched and commanding, yet at the same time soothing and lyrical. She watched as he swept his arm to indicate the silver-banded woman at his side, the one named timna. He had given the slave a title, yet not even mentioned his own. It then dawned on her that this was the first she had heard the healer’s name—Pharn Patkus. Keedrina tried to etch all the names to memory as they were mentioned.
Lord Patkus spoke again, tugging Keedrina forward then releasing her in front of him. “And this is Keedrina of the rural area to the south of Ny, your highness. Her family lived next to a plot of land I own.”
Keedrina was suddenly unsure how to act in the presence of royalty. She started to curtsy, then thought better of it, dropped to one knee and bowed her head. Patkus took her by the arm but the duke waved his hand at him. She remained motionless except for the trembling she couldn’t control. What in Byntar ever possessed her to appear before the second highest ruler of the kingdom?
The duke stepped in front of her, extended a slender hand to her chin, and lifted gently. She swallowed hard as she tilted her head at his bidding, her cheeks warming. He spoke again, his voice even sweeter and more captivating than before. “Lady Keedrina? Very pleasing.” He pressed gently upwards on her chin. She would have to shrink from his touch or stand. She rose, trying to keep her knees from wobbling.
He looked down into her eyes. His eyes were pure black, the pupil indistinct from the iris. Keedrina was sure she would lose herself in the depths of his fathomless gaze. She was so transfixed by his eyes that it didn’t even register that he called her “Lady”. Her heart beat wildly, drowning nearly everything else from her thoughts. He must have heard it; everyone knew Elva hearing was superior to Itzi.
Perhaps he caught the sorrow reflected in her eyes, or perhaps he just then processed what the healer said before, but the duke broke the eye contact to look back at Lord Patkus. “You say she ‘lived’ next to your land? Has she moved?”
Keedrina and Patkus both shook their heads. The healer gave solemn explanation. “That is the reason for my presence here, your highness. Last night, five men attacked this girl’s mother and two sisters in their home. The mother and one of her sisters were raped. All three were brutally murdered. The youngest was merely a child of six. Their farmhouse was set ablaze and burned to the ground. Keedrina was not home when the attack took place and that is the only reason she stands before you today.”
“OUTRAGE!” Duke Vahn roared, shaking his fist.
Keedrina could hardly believe the range of vocal expressions he was capable of. She half-expected the walls to crumble at the intensity of it. A chill coursed her spine. Everyone in the tavern stopped what they were doing to stare at the duke.
“Do you know who did this?” he demanded.
Patkus nodded. “Her mother spoke to me before she died and I have some seed pods taken from the bodies that do not grow here in Latoph. The attackers came from Dronak.”
“Lady Keedrina, did your father survive this?” the duke asked softly.
She would have sworn as fast as he changed tone that he must be two people. Keedrina shook her head. “My father died six years ago, your highness. My parents were still compacted at the time.” She used the Itzi term purposely. It was obvious by the fact he mentioned a father and called her “Lady” that he assumed she was Elva. She respected him too much to further the misconception. Deceit had brought enough sorrow already.
“Compacted?”
Keedrina turned her head as she manipulated her hair to uncover a rounded ear. “Yes, your highness. Itzi do not marry.”
timna broke perfect form to gasp at the revelation.
The duke only nodded. “I do not care if you are koopchuk. I will not have this in my duchy. I will catch the filthy knaves that did this. I swear this to you, Lady Keedrina. Now, do you have relatives to stay with?”
Keedrina thought a moment. She did have an aunt, but she was two days’ journey away and if Keedrina went, she would have to give up the only thing she had left—her henhouse. “None that I can stay with, your highness. I have a henhouse and poultry to my name. I will be fine.”
Lord Patkus shook his head.
The duke didn’t bother to inquire Lord Patkus’ reason for disagreeing. “You will stay at my guest cottage until I have brought you the heads of these killers,” the duke commanded. Before either Keedrina or the healer could object, he added, “That was not a suggestion. Lord Patkus, you will have someone care for her poultry at my expense. Now, any questions?” His tone suggested that there better not be. Keedrina shook her head.
Lord Patkus sighed softly and shook his head as well. “I would like to accompany you on the search, if you please, your highness. You may need a healer. Besides, I am the closest thing you have to a witness.”
The duke curled his lips slightly upward and gave him a little nod. “I would be glad for your help, Lord Patkus. Meet me at the East Gate in one hour.” He raised his voice and addressed the tavern. Most of the patrons had been watching since his outburst. “Any who wish to join us are welcome, but I will take no cowards. Blood will be spilt—those who do not wish to see it should remain here.”
He turned to timna. “Take Lady Keedrina to the guest cottage. Make sure that she has everything she needs. You are not to mention to the duchess that she is Itzi, only that she is a subject whose cause I am undertaking. Tell the duchess I am looking for outlaws and not to expect me for at least three days. If the duchess takes any afternoon trips, you may bring Lady Keedrina inside the keep, but otherwise you are to stay with her at the guest cottage, understood?”
“Yes, Master. timna will take care of Lady Keedrina. Safe journeys and Heavenlies be with you,” she said. She arose from her knees, bowed her head once to the duke, once to Lord Patkus, then turned and walked toward the door.
Keedrina stood stupefied.
The duke laid his hand on her shoulder. “Please go with timna, Lady Keedrina. I must be certain you are safe before I leave.”
Safe? This was the first it occurred to Keedrina that the marauders could come back, that being the only survivor of the family might put her in jeopardy. They wouldn’t know she had not seen them. She was torn between new apprehension and lingering awe. That long-fingered hand on her shoulder prompted a wave of cozy warmth to traverse her entire body. “Thank you, your highness. It is much appreciated.” She bowed her head then turned to follow timna.
Without ceremony, Vahn and Patkus parted company. The healer had to arrange for Keedrina’s henhouse to be tended, gather his supplies, and ready his horse.
Vahn mounted his horse, Fortitude, and headed to the home of his Captain of the Guard, Najost Shil. Vahn’s official Castle Guard boasted fifty men, itself an impressive number. Unofficially, there were many more, though the exact total and who precisely were among them was a secret. Only the king was allowed to have a bona fide army. If Vahn were discovered to have one, it would be treason.
He supplied his knights with swords, horses, and a monthly stipend, but no quarters. A bunkhouse in Rebono Keep’s curtain wall housed whatever guards were on duty. The rest of his knights stayed in their homes all over Ny. In a way, this was better. They could act as his eyes and ears as well as his faithful defenders. All of them were sworn to him alone.
“Your highness!” the muscular, white-haired man exclaimed upon seeing Vahn at his doorstep. White hair was not an indication of age, merely breed. Elva newborns could have gray or white hair, but even the oldest Itzi never acquired it. Byntarians universally kept their hair color for life.
“Good day, Captain Shil,” Vahn said. “I need all the men gathered for a posse at the East Gate in an hour.”
Shil frowned. “An hour?” Vahn briefed his captain on the marauders. Shil’s tanned face wrinkled in disgust. His eyes burned with righteous indignation as his hand clutched the hilt of his sword. “Consider it done, your highness.”
Captain Shil initiated the chain of notification that would rally knights from all corners of the city. He beckoned a squire with a curled finger and whispered. The squire shot off down the road. The squire would only have to locate two men. Each of them was responsible to notify two more, who did the same in turn. The chain had been carefully planned to notify everyone as quickly as possible.
Vahn had not been jesting that he would be ready in an hour. Over a hundred knights gathered under his black and silver standard at the East Gate. Last to arrive was Pharn Patkus. The healer’s eyes widened as he approached the large group of men clamoring about on horseback. Swords clinked lightly in practice parry sessions. Vahn grinned to himself when he saw Patkus trying to count heads.
Vahn raised his fist and immediately gained silence. He addressed them calmly, using a booming rich voice that carried well. He thanked them for coming, then relinquished attention to Lord Patkus to explain the particulars.
Though the healer did not have nearly the volume Vahn did, he had such full attention he could have whispered. “The men we seek raped a twelve-year-old girl and her mother. They mutilated the feminine treasures of a six-year-old.”
He had to stop while the men cried out in rage. Vahn surmised he had left these aspects unsaid earlier to spare Keedrina.
“They stabbed all three victims repeatedly, then set the house afire. The mother was still alive when I arrived and she told me that they taunted her in Dronakian accents. She saw five men, all bearing raven tattoos in their forearms.” Escaped slaves often obliterated their Permanent Marks with symbols, but ravens were especially infamous.
The men nodded in agreement. Hushed whispers sprung up, “The Dronak Death Gang.” It was the appellation coined by the Ny Gazette editor. They were notorious for attacking travelers in Dronak’s badlands. They left terror in their wake and never witnesses alive. This was the first time anyone had heard of them crossing the border north into Latoph. If Vahn had his way, it would be the last.
The king of Dronak had a price on their heads, which meant Vahn’s posse could track them over the border with full royal support. This pleased Vahn immensely. He was prepared to defy anyone necessary to have justice, but this was perfect. He could exact his vengeance and earn an ally at the same time. His lips curled upwards at the thought.
“Who is with me?” he shouted.
“I am,” came the unanimous shout back. Raised fists and swords punctuated their enthusiasm.
“Then follow me!” Vahn roared. He turned to Patkus. “Take us to Keedrina’s farmhouse. We can pick up the trail from there.” Patkus nodded and urged his horse forward, headed south with Vahn next to him. In a cloud of dust, they vacated the East Gate.
The healer led the posse to the ashen ruins. The sight of the destruction only strengthened the collective resolve. The rural community noticed the knights led by the duke’s banner. Several farmers, even a few who were Itzi, asked to join the search. Eyebrows raised, but Vahn welcomed any who wished to help. Itzi could be courageous when they had a cause. In truth, more were willing than able because so few owned horses.
The hoof marks near the destroyed farm were clear enough, but doubtless the outlaws would use the stream and every other trick to their advantage. However, in all the excitement, Vahn had not thought to fetch his dogs. He still had time to send someone back for them, but two of the farmers brought hunting dogs, negating the need to wait.
Some Itzi women arrived while the posse sifted through rubble and bandied strategies about. Vahn was touched when the women offered satchels of food to the gathered knights—Elva men they didn’t even know. He thanked everyone and promised to avenge Silla’s family. The little cluster of rural neighbors cheered the duke and his men as they rode off.
The posse followed the marauders’ hoof tracks to the stream where Captain Shil reminded everyone to water the horses and fill all waterskins. Although the party had formed quickly, they were not ill-prepared. With the food from the Itzi women, they had more than enough to cover the few who had been less than thorough in their excited preparations.
The dogs proved invaluable when the trail obscured at the stream, for there were numerous tracks both to and from the brook’s edge. The posse split for a while, following the meandering rivulet in both directions, each team taking half the dogs. After they found the trail upstream, the downstream group rejoined the whole and all proceeded east in pursuit of the outlaws.
Vahn felt cautiously euphoric. He had a large group of men, spanning different ages and occupations, even breeds, and all to a common goal that couldn’t have been more noble—defending the helpless and avenging an unspeakable crime. His “army”, though of course, it couldn’t be called such, had rallied to him in under an hour. If his goals were met, he’d make an ally of the king of Dronak in the process.
Keedrina followed timna to the gates of Rebono Keep. The Itzi admired the twin Rebono crests adorning the wrought iron spindles of the double gate. In the center of the crest, a silver sword crossed an anchor inlaid with onyx. A stylized “R” in deep purple amethyst topped the design. In the lower left corner was a fish with hematite scales and the lower right corner depicted an orange overlaid in gold with a cabochon emerald for a leaf.
The guards looked to timna to explain the stranger. “This is Lady Keedrina. She is under Master Vahn’s protection and is to be quartered at the guest cottage until his return.” Keedrina was impressed with the authority in the voice of the slave. The guards took her word without question and opened the gates.
timna walked Keedrina to the cottage and opened the front door. Keedrina stood wide-eyed at the threshold, reluctant to set foot on the thick, luxurious rug. Inside were tables carved of costly teak and couches upholstered in velvet. Rich tapestries hung from the walls. All the windows had clear, smooth glass panes, not like the bumpy and mottled glass common everywhere else. Her jaw dropped.
timna smiled at the farmgirl’s wonderment. She stepped in and motioned to her reluctant charge. “It’s all right, milady. This is where Master wants you. You wouldn’t want to see him angered, would you?”
Keedrina shook her head. “Absolutely not.” She bent over and removed her worn brogans, slipped sagging, home-knit socks from her feet, then stepped into the entry. timna smiled and started a tour, pointing out where everything was. Keedrina followed with her mouth agape, completely overcome with the opulence.
timna invited her to sit. Keedrina sat nervously on the edge of a velvet-cushioned couch. timna sank to her knees two feet away on a lush fur rug. Keedrina took one look and slipped from the couch to the floor, mimicking timna’s pose.
timna frowned. “Is there anything wrong with the couch?”
“No, not at all. I just feel strange up there with you down here.” timna didn’t object to her choice, but she still avoided her gaze. As Keedrina thought about it, moxi had done that too. It then hit her why she had been so uncomfortable around moxi. It felt incongruous being called “lady” and being treated as superior. It felt strange with someone older and even stranger with an Elva. She had always been taught that Elva were stronger, smarter and better than Itzi. One would only have to meet the duke for proof that was true. Keedrina’s heart still fluttered at the thought of him.
“t-t-timna? Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Lady Keedrina. What is it?” timna straightened her back.
Keedrina recognized that same regal kneel as the one timna held when the duke stroked her hair. Keedrina could almost see him doing it even now, so vividly had the scene been etched to her mind. That action had struck a chord deep within her. She was loathe to admit it even to herself, but she wanted to kneel at the duke’s feet, with his hand on her hair like it had been on timna’s.
“Are you happy being a slave?” Keedrina didn’t know how else to word it. She suspected timna might be forbidden to answer, but it was a start.
timna acted like the question didn’t bother her in the least. She held out her right forearm. Tattooed just below the shining silver wrist band in half-inch numerals was a 22. “Do you know what the numbers mean?”
“No,” Keedrina admitted.
“In 1022, on Queen’s Jubilee, timna will be free—”
“That’s next year!”
“Exactly,” timna continued. “In one year and two weeks, timna will be free. timna was sold to a merchant for three years to pay off a debt. When timna went to the ITC, Master Vahn bought timna from the merchant. He is strict and does not allow laziness or lax manners, but he never harms timna as long as timna obeys.”
Keedrina nodded thoughtfully. “Do you have to talk like that? Lord Patkus’ slave didn’t talk that way.”
“It is up to an owner what standards he wants of his property. Some masters think third person speech is a silly old custom. Some consider it a mark of excellence. timna uses it because it pleases Master Vahn.”
Keedrina nodded, working up the courage to ask an awkward question. “Please don’t be afraid of me. I’m not trying to get you in trouble or anything...really.” Keedrina fidgeted with the hem of her tunic. “I just never met a slave before today. I always thought slaves were miserable wretches that were constantly whipped and worked to death.”
timna laughed. “You have heard too many tales. Perhaps the galleys stocked with criminals and Permanents are treated that way, but they are rarely female. Are you thinking of selling yourself?”
How had timna guessed? Oh yes, she was a homeless orphan. Nevertheless, she had the henhouse and the chickens. “I’m not in debt,” Keedrina said. “And I’m legally an adult.”
The Elva blanched. “Please forgive timna, milady. She did not mean to suggest...”
“Stop,” Keedrina whispered. “You were right. I am thinking about it.”
timna breathed a sigh of relief. Evidently, it was important not to offend.
Keedrina reached out and patted timna’s knee. She felt so kindred in spirit with the slave, so aching to become what timna seemed to be, but so much had happened, Keedrina could barely think straight. Could her mind be confusing wants with needs? Was she dreaming blindly?
“timna, you said the duke never harms you. But does he...” she took a deep breath—this was difficult to ask, “...does he force you to his bed?” Keedrina knew little about mating, even less about Elva customs or slavery parameters.
timna chuckled. “He would not have to force timna. If he wanted timna, she would give herself, but he is faithful to Mistress Saerula—even since she became with child. His heart and loins are completely hers.” timna paused; her brows furrowed a moment and then relaxed. “No one shares Master’s bed but Mistress.”
Keedrina released her held breath. That had been her greatest fear and the hardest question to ask. There were still more questions, but not for timna. “Thank you for talking to me.”
“You’re welcome. Is there anything timna can get you before she goes back to work?”
“Work? Have I been keeping you from something? Oh, I’m sorry. No, I need nothing, thank you.”
“No apologies necessary. Master Vahn asked timna to see to your needs. timna will bring back supper later. Please, enjoy Master’s hospitality. timna knows you appreciate it far more than the counts and barons.” She stood from her kneel in a single fluid motion and padded quietly away on bare feet.
Keedrina’s mind swam with uncertainty. She knew her perception was clouded. She leaned over on the fur until she lay on her side. Having slept so long the night before, she did not sleep, but she did some heavy thinking. Eventually, her defenses dropped and she allowed herself a private cry of grief for her family.
Vahn and the posse followed the trail of the marauders east to Fendrus Sector, in Marquis Terzak’s territory. It was dusk now and the area they were crossing was densely forested. Vahn thought it wise to set up camp.
“Captain, have the best hunters set out in pairs to scout around on foot. No one is to attack—only observe and report. Make sure they don’t disturb the walls around Mors Manor, but I want it scouted and reported on as well.” If the Dronak Death Gang was connected to the marquis, this could get messy.
“Yes, your highness, consider it done,” Shil said with a bow. He carried out the orders, then addressed the remaining men. “I want twelve men on guard, rotating on two-hour shifts. Everyone else, get some sleep. No reason anyone should stay up all night.”
Vahn lay down on a wool blanket and closed his eyes. He was annoyed that the tracking had not led south. If these outlaws hid anywhere in his duchy, it meant he would have to tolerate vigilantes from the south, the same as he could have crossed the border to Dronak if the tracking had led that way. Essential to his long-term goals was the security of his people. He refused to allow skirmishes and raiding as his brother did in the North.
Vahn tossed and turned on the hard ground, but finally managed five hours of sleep before the first scouts returned. He prevented them from waking Shil. He wanted to hear the reports himself and let his captain sleep as long as possible.
“Two hooded equestrians arrived at Mors Manor, your highness,” the scout whispered. “They stayed for about three hours, then left. The manor went dark an hour later.”
“Could you tell who they were? Did you see anything else?” Vahn whispered back.
“No, it was too dark.”
“Very well, thank you, milords. See if you can get some sleep now.”
Scouts trickled back to camp thereafter. Some reported finding a camp of five men deep in the forest, with snares and traps set all around. Vahn woke his captain. By torchlight, the scouts drew maps in the dirt and described the snares. Once they finished reporting and planning, Shil sent the scouts to sleep, checked on the sentries, then lay down.
Vahn retreated alone into the woods. He emerged an hour later. “It’s time,” he announced. His voice was low and reverberating. It was not particularly loud, but it did not have to be. One third of the men woke with his declaration. A few nudges later, everyone was awake. Rubbing eyes and squinting in the predawn mists, they all gave attention to the duke.
“I believe we have them,” Vahn said softly. No reply met that statement except the crickets and the waking birds. Someone coughed. “Our scouts have spotted a camp in the forest. The outlaws are not aware we are here. They are depending on traps and snares to alert them. We will attack from all sides. They will be surrounded with no escape. Be careful. I do not cherish the thought of explaining to widows why numbers such as ours did not vanquish without loss.”
The men nodded while quietly rising from the ground. The duke talked as they broke camp. “Form into four groups. I will take the south. Captain Shil will take the north. This covers the two greatest risks—Dronak and the marquis. Lieutenant Windrider, take the west, Lieutenant Alnen, the east. Once we close in on them, everyone spread out. Those of you who know traps, go ahead of the others and point them out. When I give the signal, we all advance at once. No one is to be killed in surprise. There is always a chance we have the wrong men. I will not be compounding wrongs by killing more innocents. If anyone lifts a sword without my orders, he will answer to me.”
By the time his quiet speech was finished, the camp was broken and the men munched on cheese and dried meats. They were in good spirits, clapping each other on the back and clasping wrists. They muzzled the dogs for stealth. Vahn mounted his horse and set his jaw in determination. “For Latoph!” he cried softly.
“For Latoph!” came the hushed enthusiastic reply. Within seconds, everyone mounted and formed four groups. Vahn motioned the duchy banner lifted, exchanged a salute with his captain, and rode off. The rest dispersed with only the sound of hoof beats on the grassy clearing.
Keedrina wrestled with boredom. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and doubly vexing with disturbing thoughts vying for her attention. She didn’t want to think about her family any more.
Bound in fine leather with gold embossed lettering, the storybook in the sitting room beckoned her. It was probably worth more than Mother had made in a year. Dare she touch something so valuable? They expected her to use fancy furniture and walk on luxurious rugs, so perhaps this was all right. She decided to take advantage of the opportunity for pleasant distraction. When timna returned with supper, Keedrina was curled up on the fur rug, reading by the light of an oil lamp.
The slave was flustered. “timna is sorry, milady. She couldn’t come sooner. Please forgive timna.”
Keedrina pitied her. “You aren’t late. This is fine. Will you be eating with me?”
timna’s eyes grew wide. She hesitated a second, then shook her head. “timna must see to Mistress Saerula’s needs or timna would be happy to. Thank you for asking.” As she set the plate down, she saw the book in Keedrina’s hand. “What are you doing with that?”
Keedrina gulped. “I was reading it. It was just on the table. I didn’t know—”
timna cut her off. “You can read?”
“Yes,” Keedrina admitted. She looked up at timna with shy eyes.
The Elva woman frowned. Her temples bulged as if gritting her teeth. timna glared at Keedrina’s shoulders, still not meeting her gaze.
Keedrina sighed, then lifted the book and read aloud. “Lady Bastra had six strapping sons, but it was Malcolm who was the apple of her eye. He was a winsome lad with eyes of bl—”
“You memorized the story!” timna interrupted. She bit her lip quickly.
Keedrina knew several stories by Itzi oral tradition, but this was not one of them. She shook her head and handed the book to timna. “Pick a page at random.”
timna grabbed the book and searched for a page with no illustrations. She handed it back to Keedrina with a satisfied grin.
Keedrina sighed and read from the chosen page.
timna stumbled. She caught herself on the sofa’s arm before slumping to the floor. “You really can read!” Her cheeks grew red and she looked down. “Oh milady, please forgive timna. She didn’t know it was possible. timna thought you were trying to...” She trailed off mid-sentence, shaking her head.
“It’s all right,” Keedrina said, “most everyone thinks Itzi are too stupid to read.” She sighed. “I wish I never learned.”
“But why? You are smarter than we Elva give credit for.”
Keedrina shrugged. “I didn’t tell my mother what I was doing. She wouldn’t let me talk to the young Elva men who worked Lord Patkus’ field. I had to lie to attend my lessons. I told her I was praying to the Nymphs, but I was having reading lessons when the marauders came. If I had been home like a good Itzi, or at least in the woods like I told my mother, then I could have heard their screams. I heard voices in the woods, but all I could think about was Mother catching me where I wasn’t supposed to be. I only thought of myself. I could have helped...” Keedrina broke off, wiping a tear from her eye.
“No, Lady Keedrina, you would be gone now too. This is not your fault.”
“Maybe I should be dead now.”
“If there are any ‘shoulds’, then your mother and sisters should be all right. No one deserves what happened to them. Not even animals should be treated that way.”
“No,” Keedrina admitted, sniffling. “Animals are killed quickly... and the young are always spared.” timna was right. Keedrina would kill a chicken with more mercy than was shown her family.
“Exactly,” timna echoed. “You shouldn’t be dead. Your family should be alive. It would only further the tragedy for you to throw your life away as well.”
Keedrina slipped into thoughtful silence. Was timna still talking about her family? Or was she commenting on the discussion they had earlier? “timna, if you died before next year’s Jubilee, do you think your life would be ‘thrown away’?”
“No. There are worse fates than becoming a slave. There is no disgrace in service—especially in such a house as timna is privileged to serve.”
“Do you think Duke Vahn would accept me?”
“Master Vahn would, but—” timna broke off suddenly as if what she had planned to say made her remember something. “timna has to go now, milady. She will come back to bathe you and ready the bed.” She sprung up and dashed out the door.
Keedrina had no time to thank timna for the food or the conversation. The farmgirl ate quietly, then found a hand pump in the inhouse and cleaned the plate. The pump arched over a huge oblong tub. Keedrina guessed it must be used to wash clothes. The healer’s wife had said the basin was too small. This was definitely large enough for a whole family’s clothes.
She pumped some water onto a washcloth and washed the same way she had at the healer’s home. She wasn’t quite as tired, so she took the time to sponge her feet and legs as well.
The mahogany featherbed with silk sheets and velvet comforter was just too pretty to disturb and Keedrina was wary of falling. So, she slipped into the trundle. She had slept in a drawer when she was very young, as had her sisters after her. The trundle had a nostalgic, homey feel to it. She blew out all the lamps, curled up in the trundle, and fell asleep.
timna returned to find the guest cottage already dark. She slipped inside, lit a candle, and moved quietly. She smiled when she found the clean supper plate. No other guest had ever washed the dishes before. timna chided herself for not having returned sooner to help the poor orphan.
Her regret turned to alarm when she found the bed untouched. Lady Keedrina was nowhere to be seen. Had timna neglected Master’s guest so much that she felt compelled to leave? Had she offended her when she didn’t believe the Itzi could read? Then timna spotted the trundle. She sighed with relief, changed into a flannel gown, and pulled a fur rug near the trundle to lay down beside her charge.
Both girls awoke early the next morning.
“timna? Could I help you with your work?” Keedrina asked as she rubbed her eyes.
timna shook her head. “No, thank you. You are a guest here. Sleep a while longer if you like. timna will bring breakfast later.”
Keedrina sighed softly. timna dressed and dashed off to the keep. Keedrina made the trundle bed and put her clothes on, except the shoes. It seemed wrong to wear them to walk on fancy carpets and furs. Moreover, the rugs felt so good against her bare feet. Bare feet—another reason to envy timna. Admitting to herself that she envied a slave was difficult. Would Mother be scolding her from the grave for such thoughts?
She still had questions, but she couldn’t ask the duke. Even if every instinct told her she could trust him, she knew she could not bring herself to ask. Her heart had pounded away, her hands had sweat, her knees had trembled, and that was just an introduction! Furthermore, she was vulnerable and naïve. No, it would have to be an objective source—someone outside the duke’s household, someone who didn’t know her situation.
Much as she tried to think about other things, her thoughts always wandered back to timna and the duke’s house. She attempted to distract herself with books. It worked somewhat, but it also reminded her that she’d have very little hope of reading again if she returned to live in the henhouse.
With the windows closed, she didn’t hear the city bells that marked the hours. They were set in the lighthouse so that the fishing boats could hear the tolling. From her home to the south, she could hear them only if she were listening for them. She never paid much attention to time at home, other than awaiting Botlop’s release from work. Here, with nothing to do but read, the hours passed slowly. Keedrina opened a window so she could hear the tolling, as if hearing the hours announced would somehow hasten their passage.
Just after the tenth hour, timna arrived, frazzled and harried. She set enough food on the dining table for two meals. She transferred a copper kettle from a cupboard to the cast iron stove, then checked to be sure there was wood to use. She brought a silver tea set from the hutch to the kitchen. Once everything was in order, she sighed and turned to Keedrina. “timna may not be here for tea, milady. She wanted you to have everything you needed, just in case.”
Keedrina stared at the fancy meats and pastries with her mouth agape. “Thank you, timna, but I really don’t need all this. Please, don’t worry about me.”
“Master told timna to see you have everything you need. timna will return as soon as she can. timna wishes she could stay and keep you company, but...”
“...but you have work to do. Please, go ahead and don’t apologize.”
timna smiled and bowed, then hurried out the door again. Keedrina was afraid to eat on the white tablecloth. If timna had stayed, she would have done it, but with no one watching, she took the plate into the kitchen and ate over the sink. The kitchen sink had a hand pump just like the inhouse. Keedrina just couldn’t get over all the luxuries. She washed all her dishes and stacked them carefully.
The posse encircled the five fugitives who slept unaware in Fendrus Forest. Calla and Cana’s rays had just begun to penetrate the misty fog as everyone was in position. “Now!” cried the duke. His men shouted and charged forward. They tripped and bypassed the traps, clearing the way. In barely ten seconds, five groggy men stumbled to a defensive circle, disconcerted to be outnumbered and surrounded.
“Good day, my fine gentlemen,” the duke called sardonically as he rode forward with his rapier in hand. “I am Vahn Rebono, duke of Latoph.” In times like these, Vahn was grateful that the kingdom was named after the duchy. Foreigners usually assumed a greater asset than was actually his. “Might you direct me to the group of men who pillaged an Itzi farmhouse south of Ny two nights past? I have payment for them.”
“No, we don’t know anything about it,” sneered one of the ruffians.
Ah, the leader, thought Vahn. He shall be mine. “No?” He continued in a voice like honey-coated razor blades. “Such a shame. My men and I had hoped you might help us. You’re sure it couldn’t be you?”
“Yeah, we’re sure,” a few more voices sputtered out.
Vahn furrowed his brow and scowled at them. “Well, then I’m sure you won’t mind if our hounds have a sniff around, then, will you?” He ordered the dogs toward Patkus. The dogs scented tiny scraps of clothing and handfuls of hair, then split between the fugitives and their saddlebags, barking and snarling.
The healer followed the dogs to the saddlebags. Within, he found a ripped shirt whose hole matched a scrap he had used for scent. “I have a match,” he yelled, holding the shirt and the scrap up for all to see, then moving the scrap in and out of the hole to demonstrate the fit.
Vahn was enjoying his little game. He pointed his rapier at the leader and yelled to his posse, “Add perjury to their list of crimes. By the way, what is on that list right now, my countrymen?” He sounded nearly jovial to the untrained ear. He waved his sword about in an encouraging motion.
“Rape.”
“Murder.”
“Arson.” The shouts came from different timbres and different directions.
“Torture of children.”
“Terrorizing a village,” one of the Itzi farmers added.
Patkus held up a scrimshaw pendant on a leather thong discovered in the bags. “Thievery!” he shouted. “This was Silla’s.”
The soft whoosh of metal against leather multiplied hundredfold as swords left their sheaths. Restless horses shifted under their riders, snapping twigs that littered the forest floor. The dogs barked loudly. Canine claws struggled for traction against their leashes. The owners had to pull them away.
“Sounds like some pretty grave charges,” the duke said coolly as he dismounted, approached the leader and leveled his sword at his neck. “Drop your weapons now, all of you.” The condemned exchanged surprised glances. Two of the five did as ordered. “Those two get quick deaths,” Vahn called. He motioned to the leader. “This one is mine. The rest are yours, my friends. Now!”
Mayhem commenced. Several dirks hurled from horseback struck the two unarmed men. They died quickly as ordered. Vahn engaged the leader, purposely removing himself from the other two still-armed men. It did not take long for 100 to 2 odds to relieve the criminals of their weapons. Not one of his men was seriously harmed.
Vahn fought with the leader for several minutes, just for the sport of it. He left a deep cut on the man’s shoulder and a gash on his thigh, while he himself barely broke a sweat. He easily parried the lunge for his heart and countered with a slash to the outlaw’s arm, tearing the sleeve and revealing the raven tattoo. He toyed with his prey only as long as it amused him; then with a flick of his wrist, he liberated the leader’s sword. The man fell to his knees.
Vahn glared at him, then addressed the knights who held the remaining prisoners at swordpoint. “Strip them and tie their wrists to a high branch, then bind their feet as well.” While the accursed men struggled, spat, and hurled insults, the posse carried out his instructions. Vahn recovered his whip from his saddle.
“I take no pleasure in this,” he announced when they were tied. “I do it for the blood of two girls and their mother. Innocent blood calls from the grave for the blood of the guilty.” With that, he lashed out, leaving a raw red stripe. Ignoring their screams, he whipped them haphazardly so they wouldn’t know when the next strike would come. Each flinched with every blow, even those of their companions, adding mental anguish to the torment. He kept no count of their lashes, for it mattered not.
When their backs were solidly bloodied, Vahn stopped and circled them. “I’m afraid that your punishments have been unfair,” he said, oozing false compassion. “The women you tortured were stabbed from the front. You should bleed from the front as well.” Again his whip cracked loudly and brought blood from across exposed pectorals. The captives screamed and tried to turn their faces to escape the whip’s flaming kiss, but Vahn made sure each had a taste of his own blood, besides chest and trunk lacerations.
Next, he directed Captain Shil to gag the prisoners. Their screaming and whimpering had become annoying and with what he planned, it should only get worse. Besides, gags would hinder breathing and hasten death. He couldn’t keep this up much longer.
Vahn taunted as the gags were applied, “This is what you did to helpless females, isn’t it? Covered their tiny lips with your hands to drown out their cries for mercy. Then you used what was sacred to deprive them of honor and life. Therefore I deprive you of sacred and life to return their honor.” He stepped in front of the first prisoner. With a quick unsheathing and skilled slice of his dagger, Vahn removed everything that made him male. Several men from the posse turned away, cringing, while the majority cheered.
The emasculated man screamed against his gag. The center criminal shook his head violently. A stream of muffled “no’s” escaped the cloth filling his mouth.
Vahn wavered, sickened by his own actions. He closed his eyes and imagined Lady Keedrina’s defenseless mother and young sisters. He summoned every ounce of fortitude he could muster to steel himself, inhaling deeply. “No?” he sneered. “Did the six-year-old girl cry, ‘no’? Did her mother not beg you by all that was decent to spare her? And yet you ignored her, therefore I ignore you.” As he did with the first, so too with the second he did likewise.
The third, the leader, also begged piteously, muffled by his gag. Vahn stopped for a moment, allowing him to squirm. “You know what is coming. You saw it happen first to the men you led. Tell, me, how does it feel to be helpless to stop a stronger power from torturing someone under your charge? How does it feel to know you will die painfully and not be able to stop it no matter how you plead?”
Muffled whimpers, pleading eyes, and a writhing body were the only answers. The leader was deprived of his male organs with a deft slash.
Vahn turned and walked away, wiping the blood from his hands with a kerchief. His men still ridiculed and taunted the prisoners. Some made suggestions for further torture. Vahn shook his head. Others volunteered to take over the task. He raised his fist until his men quieted. “This is not a sport. If we continue, we are no better than they are. Leave them to bleed until they pass out, then you may take their heads.”
Though the criminals still moaned and writhed in their bonds, the posse quieted after that. They gathered their equipment and remounted. Patkus attended to their cuts and scrapes. Within fifteen minutes, the prisoners’ bodies hung limp.
Vahn called Captain Shil. “Take the leader’s head and forearm to the king of Dronak. Tell him what you saw here. Tell him the rest of the heads will be on pikes outside Ny’s South Wall. The reward offered is five thousand silver. You will accept only enough to pay each man here ten silver, for two day’s lost wages, and you will ask for an alliance with me—not the duchy or the kingdom. Me.” Vahn removed his signet ring and extended it to Shil.
Shil nodded as he knelt to take the ring. “Yes, your highness. It will be done.”
Vahn studied his captain a few moments before releasing the ring. Shil tried it on his forefinger, but couldn’t get past the first knuckle. His burly hands were significantly meatier than those of his liege. He moved it to his pinky, where it fit securely. Then he cut the unconscious Gang leader down. With a single stroke of his sword, Shil removed the head. He severed the arm just below the raven and hoisted it up by the rope still tied around the wrist. Blood spilled from both appendages as Shil added the hair to his grasp. The captain mounted, then turned to the duke.
Vahn nodded his dismissal then addressed the rest. “I want the other four heads mounted on pikes outside the South Wall of Ny—where even the farmers may see. Leave the bodies to the wolves. Lieutenant Windrider, will you see to this?” he asked, motioning to the criminals. “I have an errand to do. I should be about an hour behind you.”
“Yes, your highness. I will be happy to,” replied the young Elva who’d led the western offensive group.
“I thank you all for your help,” Vahn called out loudly. “Together we have returned justice to the land. When Captain Shil returns, each of you will receive ten silver from him for your service to the duchy.” There was a hushed gasp.
Vahn rode off, trusting his lieutenant to carry out his orders. Meting out punishment had taken its toll on the young highborn. Only one matter stopped him from returning to the arms of his beloved wife: Terzak. It was too strange that they found the Dronak Death Gang in the Fendrus Sector of Latoph and not in their own country, or somewhere between there and the rural area they had attacked. Why had they escaped east and not south?
It was still early when Vahn arrived at Mors Manor. Marquis Terzak’s sentries denied him entrance until he ordered in the name of the duke of Latoph. The guards escorted him to the manor. Considering the reports he had, Vahn didn’t expect anyone to be awake yet. All the better. He wanted Terzak off balance. Vahn pounded on the door with a gloved fist.
An Elva in his fifties, ruffle-haired and wearing a dressing gown, answered the door and leveled a sword at Vahn’s chest. It took Marquis Terzak a moment to register just whom he threatened.
Vahn remained calm, raking his gaze over his defensive host. He was not amused.
“I’m sorry, your highness. I wasn’t expecting you,” Terzak said, lowering his sword and dismissing the guards with a nod.
“Surprise,” Vahn quipped.
Terzak shot a glance over his shoulder and cringed. He stood aside, revealing a dusty entry peppered with gloves, cloaks, and mismatched boots. Beyond was a den littered with numerous goblets, plates of half-eaten food (one with a rat nibbling from it), scattered parchments, and several rusted scabbards. Terzak gave a forced smile. “Welcome to Mors Manor. Let us retreat to my office.”
Vahn stepped in, not hiding his triumphant smirk at catching the marquis with his figurative breeches down. “Housemaids have the day off, cousin?”
Terzak frowned. “It’s hard to find any good servants willing to live way out here.”
“Poppycock. You could buy slaves. I bet three or four could handle this place easily. You’re just too stingy, no?” Vahn wasn’t about to let this one slide. He enjoyed the embarrassment evident on Terzak’s face.
Terzak acted like the idea had never occurred to him. “Slaves? I may just do that, thank you. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” He gestured to chairs in his office.
Vahn eased into the offered chair. He steepled his long fingers, arched a brow, and watched Terzak expectantly. He’d had better manners as a squire than the elder marquis currently displayed. “I’ve been outside in the cold for a long while. Might I trouble you for some tea?” he prodded.
“Of course, how rude of me,” Terzak answered. He stepped out of the room and headed to the kitchen.
Vahn kept his seat, looking over Terzak’s unruly desk. He had a great urge to rifle through the parchments and scrolls strewn all over, but he restrained himself.
Terzak hurried back with a tray holding two cups and saucers. Vahn frowned. His optimess wasn’t with him to test for poison. Even at home, where there was little danger, he always had her do it for the ceremony. Here, he wondered if Terzak might actually slip him something.
“Anything wrong?” asked the marquis, giving Vahn first choice of two cups.
Vahn hid his suspicion behind a carefully crafted visage. He chose the furthest cup then held it untried on the arm of his chair. “Actually, yes,” he said. “I just found the Dronak Death Gang in Fendrus Forest. What do you make of that?”
The marquis studied Vahn’s face a long moment, then collected his cup with a jittery hand and downed steaming liquid in one gulp. Vahn’s slender lips curled into a smirk before he took a swallow from his cup.
“I know they’re wanted in Dronak,” Terzak offered sheepishly.
“They’re wanted in Latoph too,” Vahn added with a tone of annoyance. Terzak was wasting his time.
Terzak swallowed hard. “Yes, of course. So what does that have to do with me?”
“I just found it odd for them to escape to Fendrus after raiding a farm south of Ny. You wouldn’t be harboring fugitives, would you?”
“I harbor no one, your highness,” the marquis replied. “The fact that you caught them outside my gates should dispel that myth immediately. So, are you returning them for the reward then? I’m sure old King What’s-His-Name will be making a sizable donation to your coffers...”
“No. I pronounced their sentences myself. I care not for gold or silver when my subjects are terrorized.”
“Your subjects?” Terzak sputtered. “Last I heard, Arx still wore the crown. I should think that his inability to safeguard poor Itzi women would only weaken his popularity.”
Vahn arched a brow. “I never said they attacked Itzi or women, only ‘a farm’. How would you know who was attacked?”
Terzak frowned and shifted in his seat. “I never said Itzi women were attacked. I only said that they are poorly safeguarded and that it was King Arx’s problem, not yours.”
“Hmmmn. So you did,” Vahn conceded. Though his private thoughts were far from excusing, he had no proof and thought it best to see whether he could instead turn the situation to his advantage. “So, tell me, Marquis Terzak, where do you stand with my dear brother?” His tone was sugary sardonic.
“Let us say that my ambitions do not include aspiration to the Throne myself, but if my personal goals were to be furthered by someone with legitimate claim to the Throne...” He paused briefly to give Vahn a knowing look. “...I would return the gesture in kind and aid in furthering his goals.”
The careful wording was not lost on Vahn. Terzak was no idiot. Nothing in his statement could get him hung for treason, but the offer was unmistakable. Vahn leaned back into the chair casually and took another measured swallow of tea before sliding his gaze over Terzak. “And what, praytell, dear cousin, are your ‘personal goals’?”
Terzak tried to feign surprise, but his act was less than convincing. “Well, as you can see, I have less than standard amenities for someone of my rank. I want my house to rival yours and your brother’s.”
Vahn chuckled. “You’re not saying that all you want is a staff and some better décor, are you?”
Terzak frowned, then answered diplomatically, “Staff is only the beginning of a proper house. I want my name known and feared. I want a reliable income—substantially greater than what I have now. My father left me woefully inadequate means to be whom I was born to be.”
Vahn shook his head and clicked his tongue. “I see. Such a shame. Do you have plans for how this is all to come about?”
“I do have some preliminary outlines, but I wouldn’t want to bore someone of your importance at this point.”
“But how could a family member help your cause if he didn’t know the plan?” Vahn asked, being just as careful to keep his own back clean from treason charges.
“For right now, I don’t think you could. But it would be helpful to know if you were interested.”
“I am always interested in mutually beneficial alliances.”
“Excellent, then perhaps we could talk further at a later date?”
“I will look forward to it,” Vahn said as he stood up from the chair. He narrowed his eyes and set the muscles of his jaw before resuming. “Just one more thing. If I ever discover that your plans include terrorizing any resident of my duchy, our ways will part. Violently. My brother may be technically responsible for the entire kingdom, but Occi is a long way away. The people look to me... and to you... to uphold justice in the South. This is not a topic of compromise. I need the support of the commoners to further my goals. Are we understood?”
Terzak nodded, hiding his eyes. “Understood completely, your highness.”
“Well then, I thank you for the tea and I leave you to your servant-hunting. It seems you haven’t a moment to lose.”
“Do drop in again, if the duchess would spare you the time.”
Vahn recognized the implication that his wife had him tethered and kept, but he didn’t allow it to affect him. He replied, “The beautiful Duchess Saerula is about to bear my child, but even in her condition, I’m sure she would welcome you as our guest at Rebono Keep or The Scarlet Dryad.”
“Thank you, your highness. I would be honored.”
“Very well. Good day to you.” Vahn was already on his way out the door without being shown. It had been a taxing trip and he was eager to get home.
It was past meridian toll when he reached the South Wall to inspect the mounted heads. A large crowd of farmers and merchants had gathered around the pikes. Most of the posse had returned to their homes and shops. As soon as Vahn was recognized, cheering erupted from the onlookers. Though he nearly broke into a satisfied smile, he decided the occasion was too solemn to warrant such a display and simply raised his arm in acknowledgment.
With a regal nod, he urged Fortitude through the South Gate. Adoring throngs accompanied him through the city, cheering and singing. Vahn wished more of the men were with him to enjoy this. He felt guilty to accept their accolades alone as if he had done it by himself. He rode briskly, anxious to get home.
When he arrived at Rebono Keep, Vahn waved his subjects away. Once behind the crested iron gates, he watched them disperse. They were all in such a joyful, triumphant mood. A simple act of justice had inspired such loyalty and civic pride. Good. Too bad Terzak hadn’t seen it.
Vahn stopped at the guest cottage first. He dismounted and sent Fortitude off with a soft slap to his hindquarters, then rapped lightly on the front door. Keedrina opened it. Her cheeks colored and bright blue eyes widened. She looked down immediately. Vahn’s gaze strayed to her throat where he couldn’t help imagining a slave band bearing his name. What he saw instead was a hard swallow. With stiff movements, she opened the door further and moved aside to allow him room to pass.
He hadn’t planned to enter. He had come to tell her that her family had been avenged, but it suddenly struck him that the news wasn’t as triumphant for her. The crowds could be happy that the Evil was purged from the land so that it could not strike again, but for this poor girl, it was too late. Nothing would bring her mother and sisters back. He stood silent for a moment, wondering how to begin. The girl slipped to her knees and trembled lightly.
“Lady Keedrina...” he said softly. He wasn’t a flatterer. He knew she wasn’t highborn. What had Mother always said? “You don’t have to give honor to anyone but your father and your brother. But if you give it freely to commoners, it will be all the more an insult when you find it necessary to withhold from a nobleman.” This poor Itzi deserved any verbal token he could fathom.
Keedrina exhaled as if she had been holding her breath.
Vahn continued, “I know it will not bring your family back, but the filth who hurt them have paid for their crimes. Their heads are mounted on pikes outside the South Wall.”
“Thank you, your highness.” She lowered her head even further.
“No thanks are necessary.” He admired her for a moment. He knew of slaves that didn’t pay respect as well as she. A smile meandered over his slender lips. “And now on to the business of resuming life. I find your manners very pleasing. If you were willing to be banded, I could promise you a comfortable home and fair treatment. I would certainly make it worthwhile financially. You talked with timna, no?” he asked, suddenly noticing timna was not present.
Without lifting her gaze, Keedrina tilted her head to speak. “Yes, your highness. I talked quite a bit with her. I am sure I do not come anywhere close to her grace. I am not worthy of your house.”
“You’re probably fit for the king’s house, but I was hoping you’d consider mine, if any.”
“You honor me with such words. You have shown me nothing but kindness and hospitality. I am embarrassed to spurn such a generous offer.”
Vahn suppressed a sigh. “Not at all. You said you have a poultry business, no?”
“Yes, I have a henhouse. It will be adequate,” she murmured.
“Of course. The loss is entirely mine. Please consider me if you ever change your mind, all right?” he said, lifting gently on her chin. He stopped once her eyes met his, not inducing her to stand. He was quite pleased with her kneeling at his feet.
“I would consider no other, your highness.”
Was that longing in her voice? He dismissed it as wishful thinking. “Excellent. Now would you stay for supper?”
“Thank you, but no. I need to get home before dark.”
Vahn frowned. Keedrina reacted immediately, cringing and averting her eyes. He was touched by her sensitivity. Long fingers abandoned her chin to slide across her cheek in a light caress. Keedrina bowed her head again. “I understand, Lady Keedrina. How callous of me. May I call someone to give you a ride?”
“No, thank you. I want to spend some time alone outside the South Wall.”
“I understand.” He hesitated another moment, studying her. He wanted to give her so much more, but he only caused embarrassment at every turn. He had to find a way around her pride. “May I have timna call on you tomorrow? I’m sure she will be disappointed at missing your departure.”
Keedrina blinked and a smile dawned. “She is welcome any time. Thank you.”
“Excellent. Now, please forgive me, but I really must go and find the duchess,” he said, his voice detached as his thoughts flooded to his beloved. He turned and hurried home.
