White Star (32 page)

“Bandits?” Archer asked, raising an eyebrow.

“About twenty men, raiding along the road?” Reader inquired.

“Yes.” Gloriana raised her head. “They are causing problems on the main road between here and Radaback’s Rill.”

“No worries there, Your Ladyship,” Reader said.

“Your Majesty,” Marlon corrected.

“Your Majesty.” Reader gave a quick nod of his head. “We had a bit of time on our hands, you see.”

“And they took homage to us, being from the Black Hills and all,” Archer said.

“Umbrage,” Evelyn murmured.

“Well, Mage here had to open his mouth and—”

“Your Majesty”— one of the guards approached— “Lady Bethral— is she—”

Gloriana drew a breath, stepped back from Vembar, and straightened her shoulders. “Tell the men to stand down, Hakes. We need to deal with her absence before we do anything else. It might be awhile before she can return.” She gave Evelyn a nod, then turned to go.

“If ever,” Marlon said as Gloriana crossed the courtyard with Vembar, Arent, and her guards.

“I wish I could help her,” Evelyn said. “She’s so alone.”

Marlon snorted. “You can’t, daughter.” He turned and glared at Mage. “You, what is your name?”

Mage froze. “Lord High Mage, I’m . . .”

“Come, lad,” Marlon huffed impatiently, “you’ve a pardon. What is your name?”

“Rhys, sir.” Mage straightened his shoulders. “Rhys of the Black Hills.”

“Rhys, eh?” Marlon said. “You’d be welcome to the Guild for extra training, if you wish. Although I suspect you could teach us a thing or two as well. Think on it.” Marlon turned back to Evelyn. “Let’s open a portal and get you and these men out of here before the entire place comes down, shall we? The question is— where? I can send you to the Keep, but—”

Evelyn shuddered. “Please, no, Father.” She leaned her head on Orrin’s shoulder.

“Understandable,” Marlon said. “What about . . . there is a town I remember, with an inn. Have you ever heard of the Great Bed of Wareington?”

Archer
was the first one through the portal, leading a string of horses. It opened up in the Wareington town square, just as the old mage had said it would. Men were coming at a run, weapons in hand, but they relaxed when they recognized him.

“Hey, take these horses, and there’s more coming,” Archer said. He handed off the lead horse, then grabbed a horn from one of the watch. He sounded it once, a long, clear call.

Mage came through, leading a few more horses. People were coming at a run now, and windows were being opened in every house. Archer looked up in pleasure at the sight. “Gather around, call everyone together. Blackhart’s got our pardons—”

More people came running, and Archer couldn’t help but grin at their stunned faces. “He’s got our pardons—”

Dorne and Bella popped out of the inn’s doors. “What’s that?” Dorne demanded.

Sidian came through the portal, leading another group of horses. Archer had to yell to be heard. “Blackhart’s got our pardons, and he’s got his lady—”

Cheers rose as others gathered. These horses were led off as well, as soon as they emerged. People were leaning out the windows, hanging on every word.

“He’s got his lady, and the Queen has named her our Baroness!” Archer yelled, and though it wasn’t quite true, damned if he was gonna explain the whole Guardian thing. That was Blackhart’s problem. Never let truth get in the way of a really good gossip.

Another round of cheers filled the air as Reader came through, his string of horses rearing at the noise. It took some effort to get them all headed in the right direction, but everyone reached out to calm them and get them out of the square.

“And . . .” Archer bellowed, raising his hands for silence.

The crowd quieted, holding its breath, expectant.

“They went and got married,” Archer announced just as Blackhart and Evelyn walked through the portal, and it disappeared behind them.

The crowd roared then, startling Blackhart. He looked around, focused on Archer, and glared.

Archer just grinned.

Dorne and Bella walked forward to greet the happy couple. “Congratulations!” Dorne was all smiles. “This calls for a celebration. A dance tonight, here in the square. Let everyone gather at sunset!”

That set them to cheering. Archer grinned happily as those closest pounded him on the back.

There
were those who wanted to speak to them, but Orrin held them off, working their way through the crowd. “My lady wife is still recovering, and needs to rest before tonight’s celebration. Tomorrow we can speak of all that needs to be done.”

No one insisted, and he swept Evelyn up into his arms, and carried her into the inn and up the stairs. Bella was at the door to the room, smiling at both of them. “There’s a fire laid and ready. Give me a moment, and I’ll bring some fresh bread and butter, and hot kav.”

Evelyn yawned, then blinked at her. “I’m more tired than hungry, Bella.”

“Then I won’t be bothering you. Crawl in, and get some sleep. I’ll wake you just before supper.” Bella started to pull the door closed behind her, then hesitated. “Maybe you could look in on the little ones before the dance. One’s fussing, and we’ve run out of our own remedies.”

Evelyn opened her mouth, but Bella was gone before she could speak.

She gave Orrin a stricken look. “They don’t know.”

“We’ll explain later,” Orrin said as he set her on her feet.

Evelyn sighed, and released the clasp of her cloak. “Just that little bit of magic, and I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

“That little bit of magic was damned impressive.” Orrin took her cloak, and set it aside. She sat on the edge of the bed, and he pulled off her slippers. “We’d have been killed, but for you.”

“Mage helped,” Evelyn insisted. She stood long enough to skim out of her trous. Watching her took Orrin’s breath away.

Evelyn left her trous in a heap on the floor, and started to pull back the bedding. Orrin reached for them, and started to fold them on the chair.

Evelyn took off her tunic, and crawled into the bed with a sigh of pure contentment. She shifted to the center of the huge mattress, then pulled the bedding up over her shoulders, relaxing into the softness. She smiled drowsily at Orrin, and patted the bed next to her. “Join me?”

Orrin wasted no time stripping down, but he left his trous on before climbing into bed. He settled next to Evelyn, and she curled against him, head on his chest. “You feel so good,” she whispered, as her hand slid lower under the blankets.

“Rest, Evelyn,” Orrin said firmly, catching her hand before it could move lower.

“Awww,” Evelyn said, but it was ruined by a yawn. “When we wake?”

“We will see.” Orrin paused. “Evelyn . . . have you thought . . . about . . .”

“About what?” she asked.

“About children,” he said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat. “We haven’t taken any precautions.”

She lifted her head to look at him, worrying her lip with her teeth. “I didn’t think. I used to be able to regulate my courses with the healing magics, but now . . .” She settled her head back down. “I’m fine until the end of this month, love. After that . . .”

“We should think about it,” Orrin said.

Evelyn’s head came up again, her gaze sharper. “What’s wrong? You sound worried.”

“We can talk later, love.” Orrin stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “Sleep now.”

Evelyn nodded, and with a soft snort she drifted off to sleep.

It took him a while longer.

Evelyn
woke first.

The room was warm, the bed warmer still, and she felt so comfortable. Orrin had shifted to face her at some point, lying on his side. He looked younger when sleeping, relaxed and free of care. She smiled, a silent thrill running through her. She’d spend her days with this man, seeing him in all lights, in all moods, learning, loving. She closed her eyes, and gave a quiet prayer of thanks to the Lord of Light and the Lady of Laughter. Especially the Lady, for the gift of this man.

But then her stomach grumbled. She caught a faint whiff of baking bread from the kitchen below.

She slipped out of the bedding, and pulled on the tunic and trous. She opened the door quietly, and walked down the back stairs that went directly to the kitchen.

Dorne was there, kneading dough, and the brick ovens behind him glowed with heat. He nodded her to one of the stools, and with a quick gesture served up a slice of warm bread, a crock of butter, and hot kav.

Evelyn smiled her thanks, and spread the butter thick, taking a sip of kav while waiting for it to melt. Then she took a big bite, and closed her eyes at the wonderful yeasty taste.

Dorne didn’t speak. He just let her eat as he kneaded and shaped the loaves into round mounds, then covered them with cloths to let them rise. He refilled her mug, and cut another slice of bread to put on her platter.

The faint sound of music came through the walls. Evelyn gave Dorne a questioning look, and he grimaced. “Everyone’s excited about the news, and all and sundry who think they can toot a pipe or bang a drum can and will tonight. There’s those who are good at it and those who aren’t, and we’ll have to endure them all, more than like.”

“After so much sorrow, it’s good to see joy.”

“And relief,” Dorne added. “They’re just as pleased that you are Baroness.”

Evelyn shook her head. “No, I’m just the temporary Guardian for the Black Hills, until Gloriana can find someone she can trust to be the new Baron.”

Dorne rolled his eyes. “That’s not what Archer announced. And good luck explaining that to an excited crowd.”

“He didn’t tell them that I am no longer a priestess,” Evelyn said. “I’m going to have to tell them that as well.”

Dorne gave her a sharp look. “Oh?”

Evelyn sighed, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I renounced the priesthood before Queen Gloriana and the entire Court. The Archbishop excommunicated me just before he collapsed.”

“Fat bastard keeled over in his own spew.” Orrin walked into the room, a grim look on his face. “Served him right.” He pulled a stool over, and sat close to Evelyn. She smiled at him, his hair slightly ruffled from their nap.

“I warned Eidam that he was headed for trouble.” Dorne covered the last of the bread. “The man was fixated on the glory of the Lord, and reducing the influence of the Lady and her priesthood. I warned him about the spiced wine, too, but he wouldn’t listen.” Dorne started to slice more bread.

“Priest Dominic asked us to tell you that he would summon a conclave as soon as Eidam dies,” Evelyn said.

“Oh, joy,” Dorne snorted, as he poured kav for Orrin. “Long, tedious hours of discussion as various idiots maneuver for position.” Dorne stopped to consider. “I think I’ll walk to Edenrich.”

Evelyn fought a grin. “It would take months to walk to Edenrich.”

“Would it?” Dorne had a very smug look on his face. “More’s the pity. But there’s not a horse to spare for an old country priest.”

“Never mind the twenty or so my men looted,” Orrin said.

“You keep silent.” Dorne raised his eyebrows. “They’re needed for plowing—”

“We could spare—” Orrin said.

“Plowing or such other tasks as need doing,” Dorne repeated firmly.

Evelyn laughed. “Besides, who will care for the spiritual needs of your charges while you’re gone, High Priest Dorne?”

Dorne locked eyes with her. “Why, you, Lady High Priestess.” He reached under his floury apron, then pushed something across the table to her.

It was a silver brooch, a half-moon with several silver stars.

«
^
»

Orrin
frowned as Evelyn’s mouth dropped open. “But . . . I renounced my vows.”

“No,” Dorne said, “you renounced a corrupt church, Evelyn, not the Lord or the Lady. Think back on what you said.”

Orrin scowled at him. “How would you know what she said?”

Dorne rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stupid.”

“I left the priesthood. I . . .” Evelyn’s voice wavered as she stared at the brooch.

“You are a priestess,” Dorne said, “if you want to be.” He straightened, starting to gather up the bowls. “Those who serve the Light see to the order of our lives. They maintain the churches and shrines, administer the sacraments, teach the young, keep the hours, and see to the business of the faith.”

“Yes, but—”

“Those who follow the Laughter wander the Kingdom, seeking out the work that needs to be done, bringing the sacraments to those who need them, caring more for the people than the structures. We are the ears and the eyes of the Lord and the Lady. There is less order, less restriction on us.”

“You wear black,” Orrin said, his mouth dry.

“Damn sight easier to keep clean than white.” Dorne snorted. “But you can wear stripes for all that anyone cares.” He looked at Evelyn. “The Lord and the Lady aren’t done with you, Evelyn of Edenrich. Nor you, Orrin of the Black Hills. Serve the Lady, both of you. Go among the people, and do Her work. No glory. No riches. Wandering and labor is our way and our calling.” Dorne smiled. “There’s plenty that needs doing.”

Orrin watched as Evelyn looked up, her eyes bright with tears. “I’m still—”

“Ask your heart, if you doubt me,” Dorne said gently. “Better yet, ask the Gods.”

Evelyn turned to look at Orrin.

“What does your heart tell you, Evie?” he asked.

She reached out, and closed her trembling fingers over the brooch, bringing it to her breast. Then she closed her eyes, and her lips moved silently as she prayed.

Orrin held his breath, waiting.

She opened her eyes, her face aglow. “Oh, Orrin, I—” She reached out her hand. “Come with me.”

“Save me a dance tonight,” Dorne called as they left the kitchen.

Evelyn pulled Orrin up the back stairs, almost running all the way to the nursery in the attic. She pushed open the door.

Bella looked up, her face brightening with a smile. In her arms was a fussing babe, arms and legs waving in the air.

Evelyn walked over to her, leaving Orrin in the shadows by the door. She took the child and went to the stool in the corner, by the fireplace. She sat, cooing at the babe, whose wails made it clear he wanted nothing to do with any comfort she might offer.