WinterofThorns (18 page)

Seyzon shuddered. “I heard the duke choked
to death but there was no mention of how or on what,” he said. “Did the law
come after you?”

“Hell, no,” he replied. “The law could not
touch me any more than it could have—or would have—touched the duke. The matter
was discreetly dropped and my father told me I had to go. I didn’t want to
leave but my brother had me drugged and bound and taken away.”

“You were sent to Selwyn,” Seyzon said.

“No. I managed to escape and take myself to
Selwyn to spite my father and brother. Because I was young and foolhardy,
didn’t care whether I lived or died at that point, I joined the Reivers. They
were starting up the war with Meiraman again and it seemed like a good place
for me to work out my anger issues. They needed men with military training and
I’d had my share.”

“You became their leader, the border lord.”

“Something like that.”

“But Robin Bray isn’t your real name.”

“Why would you say that?” he asked and
those blue eyes turned cold again.

“Just a guess,” Seyzon answered.

“Let me give you a few words of advice,
son,” Bray said, getting lithely to his feet. He stood there with his hands on
his hips, his gaze boring into Seyzon. “Be careful what you say and even more careful
what you think. If you want my help, learn to keep your mouth closed and your
mind open. Is that clear?”

“As a bell,” Seyzon replied.

“All right. I’m going to see what’s keeping
my men and that bloody wagon.” He turned to go.

“Milord Robin?”

The border lord looked around. “Aye?”

“Thank you,” Seyzon said and when the tall
man nodded, lifted the canteen to his lips.

* * * * *

The warrior whose men knew him as Lord
Robin Bray stood beside the wagon as Seyzon was laid carefully in the bed. He
was concerned that the young man was hurting far more than he let on. A fine
sheen of sweat covered Seyzon’s face and he had his jaw clamped down hard.

“You sure you don’t want a spot of
tenerse?” he asked Seyzon.

“No,” came the answer that had been an explosion
of breath more than word. As a tremor rippled down the young man’s frame, the
border lord pursed his lips.

“You are a stubborn boy, aren’t you?” he
asked.

“A determined one,” Seyzon managed to say.

“That you are,” Bray agreed. He looked up
at the wagon’s driver. “Try to keep away from as many potholes as possible,
Landis. The boy is hurting.”

“Aye, Lord Robbie,” the man acknowledged.

“I have the lad’s food, milord,” the border
lord’s second-in-command said as he hopped up into the wagon and handed the
jerky and bread to Seyzon. “That should keep you until we get to the ship.”

“Thanks,” Seyzon said gratefully although
the paleness of his face and the sweat that was now dripping down his temples
didn’t bode well for him being able to eat the repast.

“Stubborn,” Bray said with a shake of his
head. “Drive easy, Landis.”

He stepped back as the driver flicked the
reins and the wagon rolled forward. Satisfied the young man was as comfortable
as could be without the painkiller to dull the agony of the broken leg, the
border lord headed for his horse.

“Did you contact the ship, Dyson?” he asked
his second in command.

“Aye. The TAOS arrived and is being set up
now.”

“And the other thing I asked you to do?”

“That was taken care of as well, milord,”
the 2-I-C replied.

“Was there a problem?”

“Nothing more than expected.”

“Good.” The border lord reached for the
pommel of his saddle then swung atop his mount. “Once I get him settled and the
ship is on its way, I’ll head back south.”

“Aye, milord.”

Kicking his beast into motion, the border
lord followed the wagon, keeping his gaze locked on the man in the back.

* * * * *

“No one will lend me the money, Freddie,”
Lady Millicent sobbed. “No one. Not even that odious man who sits the throne!”

“They’re afraid, sweeting,” Arbra told her.
“You can’t blame them.”

“Aye, I can!” she snapped. “And blame them
I do! My son is in the hands of a murderous band of malcontents who might be
torturing him at this moment!”

Arbra tried to calm her but she turned away
from the arm he started to drape around her shoulders.

“I hate that treacherous bastard!”

“The border lord?”

“No! The king!” she shouted. “I despise
him. He could have given me the money to ransom Seyzon. What is his excuse for
not helping? Is he afraid of his own son?”

“My guess is he knows the damage the
Reivers could do with that large a sum of money, Millie.”

“He owes me!” she snapped. “The bastard
owes me for raising his son!”

“You need to calm down,” Arbra said
sternly. “You are a stroke waiting to happen.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. I’ll calm down
when Seyzon is safely home!”

“He can’t come home, Millie,” her lover
said. He put his hands on her upper arms and shook her gently. “He is better
off away from Meiraman right now. If he came back, he’d go straight to Wicklow
and you know what would happen then.” He pulled her to him. “Do you want him
sent to prison?”

“I want him home,” she said, sobbing. “I
want my son home!”

“As do I but until we can find a way to get
Lady Jana away from the prince and out of Vindan’s reach, he is safer where he
is.”

“They could be torturing him,” she said,
clinging to Arbra.

“Why would they do that?” he asked. “He’s
more valuable to them alive and well.”

“Until they realize I can’t come up with
the money to pay the ransom. What then, Freddie? What happens to him then?” She
pulled out of his arms. “Have them bring the buggy around.”

“What?” he asked, confusion furrowing his
brow.

She pivoted on her heel and hurried toward
the door. “I’m going to Blackhall to talk to the fool. Mayhap if I make my
request in person, remind him how much he owes me, he’ll relent and give me the
money.”

“And mayhap he won’t,” Arbra said as he
hurried after her.

“He’d better or I’ll cause such a scandal
he’ll wish he had! The skeletons I can rattle in his closet would stand this
kingdom on its ear.”

“Oh, hell,” Arbra whispered.
Sometimes,
he thought,
it is hell loving such an obstinate woman.

* * * * *

It had been two weeks since their Joining
and Jana had yet to speak a single word to him. No matter what he said—or
did—she looked right through him. Lying in their bed each night like a statue,
nothing he had tried could rouse the passion he had glimpsed at Riverglade. If
she felt anything when he touched her, she refused to let it show. As a result,
the erections he got were short-lived and unproductive except in the shower
when he could put hand to flesh and relieve himself that way.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

At that moment she was in the bathing
chamber relieving her belly of the little bit of food she had forced down at
the breakfast table. She had locked the door against his intrusion as she had
every morning since the retching began. Because she had, he had ordered a
maidservant to fetch someone to remove the lock on that door.

“Jana, open the door and let me help you,”
he said with his cheek to the panel. He thought he heard her say something but knew
she wasn’t talking
to
him but
at
him.

No doubt to lay a curse upon his head.

Something has to give,
he thought. He’d pledged no more coercions and had held to his
word. He’d sent his godmother home—not that he would have carried out his
threat of sending her to Galrath.

Nor would he have sent Seyzon to Utuk Xul
had the idjit been in Meiraman and not concealed wherever it was the Reivers
had their home base. He would have sent him to Tyber’s Isle for a while just to
press home the point that he couldn’t defy his Overlord and get away with it
Chalean-free.

But taking Zonny’s lands? Aye, he would
have done that and wasn’t entirely sure that he wouldn’t yet.

“Jana, open the door,” he pleaded with her.
“I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

A knock on the bedchamber door brought his
head around.

“What?” he yelled.

“There is a message for you from the king,
Your Grace,” his new adjutant general—a freshly promoted Joseph
Vashteel—informed him. “The vid-com in your room seems to be offline.”

“Well, of course it is,” Vindan mumbled
under his breath. Leave it to Jana to have turned the thing off so he couldn’t
spy on her. He pushed away from the door. “Thank you, Vash.”

“You are welcome, Your Grace,” the warrior
replied.

Going over to the wall across from his
desk, Vindan reset the vid-com and moved back from the six-foot-wide screen.
Almost instantly the image of his father appeared. King Nolan had his back to
the transmitting camera. His shoulders were ramrod straight, his hands clasped
behind his back as he stared out his office window, which generally meant the
great man was pissed. Vindan knew his father’s face would be livid with rage.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,
Vindan Karl?” the king snarled.

“In regard to what, Your Majesty?” Vindan
inquired respectfully.

His father spun around. The infuriated
glower that twisted the older man’s face made Vindan take a step back.

“Do you know who showed up on my doorstep
this morn?” his father demanded.

“I’ve a good idea,” Vindan said.

“Aye, I imagine you do!” the king shouted.
“And do you know
why
she is here?”

“To beg for money to ransom her son?”
Vindan returned.

“Don’t wax fucking cute with me, boy!” his
father warned with a growl.

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” Vindan
mumbled. “I meant no disrespect.”

“Since you refused to pay the ransom, the
price has gone up. The bastards want seven million credits, Vindan!” the king
all but bellowed. “The Reivers want seven million credits to return him to his
mother with all his parts intact.”

Vindan blinked. “Seven million?”

“I did not stutter, you stupid dolt!” his
father threw at him. “If they don’t get the money, there’s no telling what they
will do to the boy.”

“They’re bluffing about harming him,”
Vindan said. “They know if they so much as bruise him I’ll send troops into
Selwyn so fast—”

“
You’ll do nothing of the fucking sort
!”
his father screamed, fury turning his broad face scarlet red.

“No, Your Majesty,” Vindan was quick to
say. “Of course not.”

“You are responsible for this mess. You
might as well have handed him over to them yourself. What the fuck were you
thinking having your men take him to that tavern? You lost the only friend
you’ve ever had. Why the hell would you do that?”

“I gave him an order and he disobeyed. He
went A.W.O.L. and I punished him.”

“Because you wanted his gods-be-damned
woman!” his father bellowed. “And took her. For the love of the gods, why
couldn’t you have chosen any other woman save his?”

“I love her,” Vindan said.

“I cannot allow them to harm one hair on
that boy’s head or I will never hear the end of it from his termagant of a
mother,” the king said as though he either hadn’t heard the declaration or
didn’t like what he’d heard. “Are you listening to me, Vindan?”

“Aye, Your Majesty. Are you going to give
them the money?”

“Fuck no, I’m not!” his father snarled.
“You are!”

“Your Majesty, we don’t have that kind of
money in the treasury at Wicklow. I—”

“Mayhap not in the treasury but you have
that much and more in your personal account.”

“
Me?
” Vindan yelped and became aware
he was no longer alone in the bedchamber. Jana was standing behind him. He
glanced at her and saw a tight smile on her pretty face—ashen as it was from
being sick.

“You set this into motion and you will be
the one to put it to rights. You will bring that boy home.”

“I will not let him take my wife from me!”
Vindan stated.

“Like you took his from him?” the king
countered. “I can’t make you give her back since you had the authority to annul
the Joining and then compounded the issue by turning around and marrying her.
But I can tell you I am sorely disappointed in you, Vindan. I thought Lady
Millicent raised you to be an honorable man. Apparently both she and I were
wrong.”

“Your Majesty, I am an—”

“You will bring him home. Keep him at
Lavenfeld if you’re afraid he’ll come after the girl but you will not put him
in prison nor send him out of this country. Is that understood?”

“Aye, Your Majesty.”

“You have wronged a good man,” his father told
him. “Taken what did not belong to you. The taking was your right but that did
not
make
it right.”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t mess with him, Vindan,” the king
warned. “Don’t get it in your head to go to Lavenfeld to see him.”

“I will not, Your Majesty.”

“The Reivers will send a convoy to pick up
the ransom. They want it in rhodium bars and they want it by Thursday morn.”

“Your Majesty!” Vindan gasped. “That’s only
two days away!”

“It’s encouraging that you know your days
of the week and what days come when,” his father sneered.

“But I thought you would not negotiate with
terrorists,” Vindan protested. “Think of what the Reivers could do with that
kind of money.”

“I’d rather have the Reivers on my ass than
Millicent Montyne! I will not have that irrational woman breathing down my
neck, Vindan!” the king shouted. “You will pay the ransom. See to it, boy!”

The vid-com screen went black.

“Sucks to be you,” Jana said with a mean
laugh. “I doubt Seyzon will stay at Lavenfeld.”

“He’ll not get you back!” Vindan shouted.
“I’ll make gods-be-damned sure of it!”