Blackveil (74 page)
It did not, but focused on Yolandhe’s seduction of the king and the nearly constant lovemaking that ensued for years after.
“Don’t they ever stop to sleep or eat?” Estora asked, growing warmer with each word to the point she had to fan herself with the book. “Who wrote this?” When she checked, the author was listed as “Anonymous.”
She thanked the gods no one heard or saw her reading it, that even the Weapons granted her privacy by posting themselves outside when she was with Zachary. He remained quiet and unconscious. Roused as she was by the story of Yolandhe and Akarion, she ached for him to awaken, to draw her into his arms, to make love to her.
Had Zachary not lain injured the night of their wedding, they’d have already joined in the rite of consummation, an event of ancient origins attended by witnesses to ensure the new royal couple commenced the task of creating heirs. Her marriage was already legally bound, but there were those who adhered to the old ways and would not recognize it until the rite took place, and those couples that refused lost title and were shunned. Sometimes tradition held more sway than law.
She hoped, given the circumstances, the need for the rite would be overlooked and that she and Zachary could join naturally without an audience watching on, but with her cousin Richmont constantly mentioning the rite, it seemed unlikely. He just wanted to ensure, she knew, that her place as queen was unquestionably secured among all influential parties, including the traditionalists, which of course guaranteed his own place in the royal court.
She shuddered at the thought of having to perform the act before people known and unknown to her. She resumed her reading, pushing the rite of consummation to the back of her mind, enjoying the escape as much as hoping her voice reached Zachary through his illness and reassured him he was not alone.
Later in Zachary’s dressing room, which was rapidly becoming Estora’s place of business, Cummings helped her to go through the volumes of well wishes and condolences that continued to flow into the castle. He told her they would hold off on a coronation dinner until several lord-governors could be in attendance. It would be, of course, a sticky situation. The lord-governors could very well challenge the manner of her marriage and hasty coronation, but she hoped Colin’s handling of the whole situation forestalled such conflict. It had certainly made the confinement of Captain Mapstone all the more imperative.
The messages Colin sent out with the Green Riders told of Zachary’s desire to move up the wedding out of his regard for his betrothed, and because an “accident while riding” made him reconsider the gravity of a smooth transition should any serious harm come to him. The rumors rife in the city and beyond had already muddled the details of the incident so much that the lord-governors would have an impossible time rooting out the truth. Meanwhile, Colin and his aides had begun to circulate additional rumors with a modified version of what had happened on Sacor City’s streets that afternoon. The king’s high-strung stallion had spooked. The king fell and was injured. He was under the care of the castle’s finest menders and in good enough form to marry.
Word was that there would be official celebrations when the king was up and about and the lord-governors in attendance, but there were already accounts of the city’s populace celebrating in the streets, and the joy would only spread as word moved across the country.
The lord-governors still might challenge the marriage and coronation, but the mood of the realm would be against them like the surge of an incoming storm tide.
A knock came upon the door and Estora nodded for Cummings to answer it. There were murmurings with whoever sought entrance, but she did not glance up from her papers until Cummings stepped aside and three persons approached: Colin, General Harborough, and Lieutenant Connly of the Green Riders. They bowed to her.
“What is it?” she asked, praying it was not a crisis so early in her queenhood, as if the attack on her betrothed and death of her father were not enough.
“A crisis, I fear,” Colin replied, supplying the answer she least wanted to hear. “In fact two.”
Estora closed her eyes and the papers shook in her hand.
No.
She must not appear weak. She took a deep breath and steadied herself.
No.
She must not appear weak. She took a deep breath and steadied herself.
“Tell me,” she said.
“News of both came from Green Riders,” Colin said. “Lieutenant?”
The Rider nodded, and Estora wondered if he felt as lost without his captain as she felt without the king.
“Your Highness,” he said. “The news comes from both the south and the north.” He told her first of word he’d received from the wall, an unbelievable story of an Eletian Sleeper—with an explanation of what Sleepers were—trapped in one of the towers, and how it was possible that more Sleepers turned by the darkness of Blackveil could pass through the towers into Sacoridia.
“Rider D’Yer and Captain Wallace have requested more troops at the wall to guard the towers,” Connly finished.
General Harborough opened his mouth to speak, but Colin gestured for him to wait. “Let Lieutenant Connly tell the tale of the north first,” he said.
The general folded his meaty arms and waited with ill-concealed impatience.
“I’ve received reports,” Connly said, “from Riders who’ve been trying to track Birch and his Second Empire renegades on the northern boundary. There’ve been incidents.” His eyes were cast downward. “The Riders have come across small settlements that have been destroyed, the people murdered to the last babe and elder. They’ve found evidence that the people suffered extreme torture, no mercy, before being executed.”
Estora sat back, horrified. “Birch—he’s attacking our boundary?”
“Dodgy bastard,” Harborough grumbled. When he realized what he’d said and to whom, he cleared his throat. “My apologies, Your Highness, for my coarse words. I’m used to speaking with the king.”
To another man,
she thought. “Never mind that. You were saying?”
she thought. “Never mind that. You were saying?”
“Yes, Your Highness. The boundary folk who settled in the wilderness up there. They’re self-sufficient people, but certainly not prepared for military style raids like the ones Birch has been conducting. The reports are that the attacks and subsequent torture, rapes, and executions were methodical. Isn’t that correct, Rider?”
“Yes, sir,” Connly replied.
“Birch must be training his renegades for true battle, hardening them, by hitting weak targets first. He’d also know that despite the fact these settlers aren’t technically in Sacoridia, that his actions would infuriate the king. The evidence Lieutenant Connly here mentioned that Birch left behind was definitely meant to provoke. Birch is thumbing his nose at us.”
Estora licked her lips, fought her own fear at the realization that she was responsible for deciding how the realm would respond, that she was responsible for the lives of the boundary folk and the soldiers who would eventually engage with Birch.
She knew the general probably wanted to delve immediately into discussion of what the response should be, but first she asked Connly, “What of those people, the settlers not yet attacked?”
“Word has gotten around,” he replied, “and most are seeking refuge this side of the border as they did during the groundmite raids.”
Estora remembered. Some provinces, like Adolind, had been welcoming to the refugees, while others, like D’Ivary, had not. D’Ivary had, in fact, abused the refugees. As a result, D’Ivary had, by the king’s decree and agreement among the other lord-governors, a new lord-governor.
She turned to Colin. “Ensure there are no problems with the lord-governors accepting refugees into their provinces. The king, as well as I, would wish for their safety. If problems arise, remind them of D’Ivary.”
Colin bowed. “Yes, my lady.”
“Rider, have you any more to report?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Then you may be excused with my thanks.”
He bowed and hastily departed, with a quick glance at the doors that led to Zachary’s bedchamber. He must be desperate to know about his king’s condition, and what was going to happen to his captain. If things were different, Captain Mapstone would be here advising Estora. And if the captain were not able to be here, Estora would have asked the lieutenant to stay. But things were what they were. Connly had been briefed on the captain’s suspension, and about his added responsibilities. To him it must appear a very threatening situation and she had no misapprehension about where his loyalties lay—with the king and his captain. He was unsure of her, not ready to trust, despite the past relationship she’d had with the Riders. Gradually she would try to bring him into her confidence, win his trust, but there were more pressing problems to attend to at the moment.
And she must act decisively.
“We need to hit back at Birch,” General Harborough said, “and hit hard. I can assemble a force to march north and—”
“What about the towers?” she asked.
“They are not an immediate threat.”
“How do you know?”
Harborough looked a little flustered, glancing at Colin for support. Colin remained neutral, did not speak. It was clear the general expected her to acquiesce to whatever he suggested. She was, after all, an untried woman with no warcraft behind her.
“We do not know,” the general finally admitted. “But you heard the Rider. That Sleeper could have been in the tower for years, and there may be no others. No others that will awaken, or do whatever it is they do. Let Lord D’Yer handle it. Birch is actually attacking us. He’s the bigger threat.”
“If I may interject,” Colin said, “Lord D’Yer has rotated his troops at the wall now for three years with only minimal support from the royal army. They are stretched thin. It seems to me more of our regulars could be assigned duty at the wall. It is a border that has been long neglected, and you see what neglect has wrought at the breach.”
Lines of barely contained anger furrowed across Harborough’s broad forehead. “The D’Yers were supposed to be responsible for that wall. I don’t like the idea of splitting our forces on two fronts like that. We take out Birch and his renegades, then we can worry about the wall.”
Colin and Harborough went back and forth, each emphasizing his point. Estora wished ever more fervently Zachary would wake up, recover. How was she to know what she should do? Zachary would know. Karigan would, too, she was sure. Karigan was the one who, after rescuing Estora from abductors, figured out how to further distract the brigands from hunting her and allow her to escape. It had been a dangerous plan, but clever. Karigan had made herself a decoy by dressing up as Estora and led the brigands away in a chase.
It gave Estora a thought.
“Gentlemen,” she said, interrupting what was fast escalating into an argument. The two looked at her as if they’d forgotten she was even there. “Birch attacks with stealth, does he not?”
“Yes,” Harborough began, “but—”
“And our scouts and spies have had difficulty finding and tracking his movements.”
“That’s correct.”
“Then I do not understand how you plan to engage him.”
Harborough’s expression crumbled, his cheeks taking on a more ruddy glow. “We’ll step up our scouting and define a field of battle.”
“But he isn’t using traditional battlefield tactics,” Colin said. “He’s attacking unprepared civilians.”
Harborough’s chest puffed up and he looked ready to bellow at Colin. The general was definitely not a man who liked to be told he was wrong.
“Gentlemen,” Estora said firmly, “I must agree with Colin. I think the situation calls for another approach. The Mountain Unit keeps a base to the north, does it not?”
Harborough nodded. “But it’s more an outpost, too small to—”
Estora silenced him with a look. She then told them her idea and they both gawked at her, stunned.
When she finished, Harborough rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful. “I’ll have to talk with my officers and strategists,” he said, “but I must admit, it’s a very compelling idea. It will, however, still require additional soldiers.”
“Of course,” she said, “but surely one unit could be spared to go to the wall, at least temporarily, even while we address the situation in the north. When the lord-governors assemble, it seems to me it would be a good time to suggest they take a more active role at the wall. The brunt of the problem has fallen on D’Yer, and yet it’s not just a D’Yerian problem. It’s a Sacoridian problem. Perhaps I can convince them to provide fresh provincial troops to help guard the wall.”
Both men looked pleased by her solution, and after Harborough left, Colin said, “If I may be so bold, Your Highness, you did very well with such difficult problems. I am not sure Zachary could have done better.”
After Colin left, Estora stood unsteadily and entered Zachary’s chamber, and sat at his bedside. She ought to have felt elated, or at least relieved, but instead she put her face in her hands and wept, her unconscious husband her only witness.
“You must wake up,” she whispered to him. “I am not strong enough for this. I cannot bear it alone.”
DAYS OF GRAY
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