Epic Of Palins 01 - Dagger Star (40 page)

“But you’ve won.” Evelyn frowned.

“The war, High Priestess,” Red said with a snort as she unlocked the chain. “But there is still much to be done. It will take time and work to secure the throne. And there are those who would prefer a puppet. If you can’t secure her safety, it were better if she died.”

Ezren looked sick. “She’s right, Lady High Priestess.”

“I’ll hide her,” Evelyn insisted. “I’ll take her this moment, through the portal.”

Ezren stood, and swept off his cloak, placing it on the woman’s shoulders. He urged her to stand, and he and Evelyn walked her to the door.

Bethral stood by the door to the corridor, guarding. She didn’t turn her head as they came up behind her. “All’s clear.”

“I’ll arrange for more time.” Ezren slipped out, headed toward the guards at the end of the hall.

Red moved to follow.

“Wait.” Evelyn took a step to the table. She reached for one of the bottles and held it up to the light. “Look at this.”

Red smiled when she saw the label.

THEY’D gathered in the command tent. The tables were full of food and drink, cleared of their maps for now.

The lantern light glowed on happy faces. Red looked at each one of the Lords and the Lady Helene. Fael was gesturing widely with his knife, describing a fight. Oh, there were currents there, but for this night they’d come together in fellowship.

Verice sat next to Vembar. Seemed they shared memories of past years and were exchanging tales. Oris, Alad, and Onza were there as well, their chairs clustered together; they seemed a bit overawed. Gloriana sat near Arent, whose joy was tempered with sorrow for Auxter’s death. Red had mentioned a state funeral, but Arent had refused. They’d honor him with the rites of the Twelve, once things had settled down.

Evelyn glowed, there was no other word for it. And Josiah….

Red smiled. Apparently someone had found some fancy dress, and he’d been stripped of his normal tunic and trous. He looked fine in the deep blue, with silver trim to match the silver in his hair. But she couldn’t say he looked terribly comfortable.

He’d stared at her all through the meal, saying nothing out loud. But his eyes spoke, and she knew he planned to confront her later.

Not if she had anything to say about it.

She looked down at her plate as a pain stabbed through her heart. She didn’t flinch, just let it sweep over her. When she knew she could, she lifted her head to smile at one of Ezren’s quips.

Once the food had been eaten, the talk grew more serious. Red knew it was time.

She rapped the table sharply. “I’ve something special to share.”

Servers came out then, bearing the bottles she and Evelyn had found. One was placed before Josiah, who picked it up with reverence. He held the bottle in both hands. The label crackled as he ran his thumb over it. He looked at Red in a daze. “This is from Athelbryght.”

“They all are.” Evelyn leaned over. “I think they’re all the same year, Josiah.”

Josiah nodded absently. “It’s one of the reds we laid down during Everard’s reign.”

“We should save these,” Ezren said as he admired one of the other bottles.

“No.” Josiah lifted his head and looked straight at Red. “We should drink them. To honor our past and pledge to the future.”

Red gave him a wry smile and a nod.

The bottles were opened, and glasses were filled. Red lifted hers high. “To Athelbryght.”

“To Athelbryght” was chorused, and everyone drank.

There was a pause as they appreciated the taste. Red breathed in the wine, and let it sit on her tongue. It was a wonderful rich red.

“A wine to make your mouth laugh,” Ezren said.

“Aye.” Lord Carell stood. “A fitting wine with which to salute our Chosen. To Red Gloves!”

“Red Gloves!” the company responded, and everyone drank.

Red smiled, and lifted her glass in response. But as the others refilled theirs, she gestured to a warrior by the tent flap. Almost as one, the servers set their bottles down, and slipped away. She had made arrangements for privacy from this point on, for she had things to say not for the ear of the common man.

Red waited as the bottles were passed, and then stood. “All has been accomplished now, as Evelyn set out to do, so many years ago. On the morrow, the army will march into Edenrich, and the Chosen will take the throne and be crowned as the new Queen.” She paused, and caught Ezren’s eye, just to make sure he was listening. “But it won’t be me.”

She drew a breath, conscious that it was almost over. The faces about the tent were stunned, confused, and bewildered. All but one.

So she said it again, just to be clear.

“I will not take the throne of Palins.”

THIRTY-SIX

GLORIANA smiled, and gave her a nod. The rest of the room exploded in questions.

Red almost laughed out loud, but she buried her laughter in her goblet, swallowing the last of the wine. She placed the goblet on the table, and put both hands on her hips. “Quiet!”

They all closed their mouths.

Red shook her head, bemused by their reactions. “Let me say again that I will not take the throne.” She looked at Evelyn. “That was always your plan, or destiny’s plan, not mine.” Red sat down, shaking her head. “I’m not going to sit there.”

“But”—Evelyn blinked at her—“if not you…”

Red gestured to the end of the table. “Gloriana, of course. You’ve trained her well for this moment, and she will serve this land better than I would.”

She leaned back in her chair. “In the morning, Gloriana will ride into Edenrich, wearing the armor of the Chosen and a pair of red gloves. She will be welcomed and cheered as Red Gloves by all who see her.”

“The army—” Lord Fael started.

“The army saw a woman in the same armor, with her helmet on, under the banner of the Chosen,” Red explained. “The warriors who had daily contact with me were of Auxter’s training, and they are more loyal to Gloriana than to me.”

Vembar was staring at Red as if he’d never seen her before. “You planned this.”

“Of course,” Red said. “Gloriana will plant her pretty ass on the throne, and remove her gloves, announcing to all that Red Gloves is no fit name for a queen. Henceforth, she will be known as Queen Gloriana, the Chosen of Palins. The city will ring with rejoicing.”

Ezren recovered his wits. “But you are the true Chosen.”

Red shook her head. “Please. Where is the profit for me in a throne?” She avoided looking toward Josiah. Instead she leaned back in her chair. “Can you see me then, seated on the throne, dealing with squabbling Guildmasters without lopping off a few heads? And the paperwork of a kingdom—Sweet Twelve, you’d drive me mad in the bargain.”

Red looked at Evelyn. “Not to mention the religious problems. Gloriana worships the Gods of Palins. Can you see the Archbishop blessing and crowning my head with holy oils and prayers after I tell him to stick his Gods up his ass?”

Red pointed at Fael. “And what about a marriage alliance? Would you marry me to some poor bastard of a nubile lord?”

Fael snorted.

Red turned serious then. “And when it came right down to it, I chose to place my own interests”—she glanced at Josiah—“over saving the land and the people. Despite the protests of a learned and elder adviser.”

“Not that eld,” Vembar said mildly.

There was silence for a moment, as everyone looked at Gloriana, clearly weighing the possibilities.

“The child is a better choice for the throne than I am,” Red said, “because the land and its people would ever be her first concern. She is trained in statecraft and diplomacy, and surrounded by trusted advisers.”

Ezren looked dazed. “But the hero returns from his adventures with the treasure for his people.”

“And the treasure that I bring you is the girl. Trained to power and the throne, she will be a better queen then I ever will.” Red smiled at him. “Your story is still there, Ezren Silvertongue. Only now it’s about a young lass who meets her teacher”—she pointed at Vembar—“and her adviser”—Red pointed at Evelyn—“and gathers the forces she needs to take the throne.”

The room exploded in talk and argument. Red quietly sat down.

Josiah was staring at her, and she quirked her mouth in a smile. He was confused, and he seemed to search her eyes for answers. Red looked away.

She let the argument rage for a bit, then stood. “We’ll finish this in the morning. I, for one, am exhausted. Seek your beds.”

They stood, and started to move out. Red waited for Josiah to draw close. She leaned toward him, taking in the smell of his skin and the faintest touch of marjoram. “I’ll come to your tent.

Wait for me.”

He looked at her, then nodded, and went out with the others. Red sighed. Just one last thing to do, then she could sleep.

She looked around, and found Vembar still in the tent, standing by his chair. When he caught her eye, he lifted his glass. “To the greatest Queen that Palins will never have.”

Red smiled as he drank, then left the tent.

THE camp was settled for the night as Gloriana walked past sleeping warriors to the picket line where Beast was tethered. She gripped the red leather gloves she’d found on her bed.

Red was saddling Beast in the dark, at the very end of the line of sleeping horses. There were saddlebags at her feet, and a cloak over them.

Gloriana walked closer, making no effort to move silently. Red glanced up, then returned to her task. Beast didn’t seem too pleased that he was being saddled, and Red was wrestling with the buckles.

“You’re really going to do this,” Gloriana said softly.

“I told you I would,” Red answered just as quietly. “Swore you an oath, if you remember rightly.”

“But why leave?” Gloriana asked. “You could stay and—”

“Ah, no.” Red shook her head. “Ezren would probably say something about a hero’s sacrifice, but the truth is, I have to go. It wouldn’t work for me to stay.”

“But you could change your name, and—” Gloriana stopped as Red gave her a serious look.

“Thank you, Gloriana. It means much to me that you want me to stay.” Red gave her a wry smile. “But I know how power works. You need to step into my shoes completely, and I need to be gone. Or the true story will be known.”

“Then at least take this.” Gloriana held out a fat pouch that clinked with coins. “A mercenary should make a profit.”

Red smiled, reached into her saddlebags, and pulled out another fat pouch. “Truth be told, I saw to that already. I took gems from the Regent’s chambers; they’re lighter than gold. But another will not go amiss.” Red took the coins, and stuffed them in her saddlebags. “Now, put on your gloves, girl.”

Gloriana sighed. Carefully, she pulled the red gloves on, one at a time.

Red nodded. “I’m not sure I’m doing you any favors, putting you on a throne, child. There will be problems, not the least of which is the state of the countryside and your people.”

Gloriana straightened her shoulders. “I’ll start with abolishing slavery. And the coinage. The people need to know that they can trust the Crown’s coin and its justice.”

Red rolled her eyes. “Better you than me.”

Gloriana hesitated for just a moment, then flung her arms around Red, hugging her tight. “Thank you, Chosen.”

She turned, and started back to her tent. And her own destiny.

“YOU’RE really going to do this.” Bethral’s voice came from the darkness. She emerged from the shadows, her armor gleaming faintly.

“I am, sword-sister.”

“Where will you go?” Bethral asked as she walked closer.

Red shrugged. “Where I will.”

“Not alone.” Bethral dropped her saddlebags next to Red’s. “I’ll saddle up Bessie and—”

“It will look better if you stand beside Red Gloves when she takes her gloves off and claims her throne.”

Bethral frowned. “I’d thought to go with you.”

Red smiled, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Now who’s avoiding the call to adventure?”

Bethral stilled.

“Go ahead,” Red said softly. “Tell me that those green eyes mean nothing to you.”

Bethral’s shoulders slumped. “There is no chance there, Red. He’s a man of learning with a mind like quicksilver. A man used to the world of the Court and its intrigues. There’s no room in his world for a woman of the sword.”

“All I know is that if you leave with me, you’ve given up any chance,” Red pointed out. “Are you ready to do that? Are you sure?”

Bethral hesitated.

“Never before have you hesitated to follow me.” Red chuckled. “Seems to me that someone recently told me that I should chance the uncertain road.”

“I don’t know—” Bethral paused, and looked back at the center of the camp. Then she turned back to Red. “But I won’t know unless I stay.”

“Be well, sword-sister.” Red extended her hand. Bethral took it, and Red pulled her into an embrace, mindful of Bethral’s armor.

The big blonde picked up her gear, and with a last salute, faded into the night.

Red mounted, and sighed. “At least there’s a moon, Beast.”

The tired horse grunted, and started to walk toward the forest. Red figured she’d travel for a few hours, then camp for the night. That should take her far enough away to be undisturbed, and before Josiah discovered—

The sound of goat bells came from behind her.

Red cursed silently, and pulled Beast to a stop. The goats came up around her, their bells chiming as they moved.

“I waited.” Josiah’s voice was a rumble.

Red sighed. “I’d hoped to avoid this, goatherder. What gave me away?”

Josiah walked up to stand at her stirrup. He was still wearing his finery, and the silver trim caught the light. “Evie came to tell me you asked her to open a portal, and she refused.”

Red scowled. Damn the priestess.

“You are really leaving?” Josiah questioned. “Leaving the throne, the wealth, the power”—he looked at her hands—“the red gloves?”

Red smiled and looked down at her new gloves. “I am.”

Josiah placed his palm against Beast’s neck. The goats moved closer, clustered about him. They all stared up at her, their eyes intent. “You could be queen of this kingdom. Should be—”

“No,” Red said sharply. “That was your plan, never mine.”