Bridge of Souls (19 page)

Celimus listened this time without the smirk on his face. “She always was a spoiled little thing. I used to think she’d jump at shadows.”

“That’s exactly what I mean, sire. She may boast the name
of Thirsk, but she is merely a girl. Her world has crumbled and been destroyed. What she needs now is resurrection from the rubble. If you provide that, it doesn’t matter what excuses or tall stories you weave to excuse your behavior of the past; she will believe them all because what she will want is her life back again. Marry her off well—to your gain. I would go so far as to suggest you find her a high-ranking warrior from Cailech’s brood. She will be no more trouble to you then.”

The King’s horse was restless. “Interesting idea, Jessom,” Celimus replied. “I will think on what you have said. What time is the Mountain King due?”

“Midday, your highness. We had better make for the house.”

“My summer palace,” Celimus corrected, and smiled.

Jessom saw no warmth in the smile; if he was honest with himself, he would admit that he had never seen any genuine warmth in Celimus. Why it should bother him now was a surprise. This mood of dissatisfation had taken him so unexpectedly that he recognized it as dangerous. He, like the King, had some thinking to do.

The King galloped on ahead, but Jessom rode back to Tenterdyn more sedately, silent and distracted.

V
ALENTYNA CRAFTED HER LETTER TO
C
ELIMUS THE AFTERNOON OF
C
RYS
D
ONAL
’
S DEPARTURE
. S
HE WROTE WITH GREAT CAUTION
,
OUTLINING HER DECISION
to release Ylena Thirsk into his care. The words suggested her expectation that he would look after Ylena even though she was being given into the captivity of the Morgravian Crown. The Queen expressed her understanding that any known enemy of Morgravia could not be considered a friend of Briavel and that, as helpless as Ylena painted her situation, Valentyna did not wish to go against the express wishes of her husband-to-be. She felt sick writing the lies but pressed on, detailing her progress with her own arrangements for the wedding, not describing her gown but telling him a little of how well it looked. She discussed the party that would accompany her into Morgravia, which was not inconsequential, and then lightly touched on her desire to return to Briavel soon after the ceremony so that a second celebration could be held for her people. Much to her distaste, Valentyna felt she should ooze some special compliments here about how much the Briavellians were looking forward to seeing their queen with her new king.

By the end of it she felt revolted by the smooth way in which she lied to protect her own life as well as at how easily she was giving away Ylena’s precious life. As terrible thoughts filled her mind about the ways Celimus might choose to kill Wyl Thirsk’s sister—and kill her he would, she knew—the guilt of remembering how generously Wyl Thirsk had sacrificed himself for Briavel’s heir nearly overwhelmed her. She was repaying his sacrifice with disdain for his family. Valen
tyna’s fingers twitched with the desire to rip up the parchment with its treacherous contents.

But the memory of Ylena’s hard words stayed her hand. It was Ylena’s decision to give up her life and Valentyna realized she would probably aggrieve the young woman more if she did not carry out her wishes. Her life was forfeit anyway, Valentyna told herself. One way or another, Celimus would hunt Ylena down and complete his annihilation of the Thirsk line. Ylena seemed to feel that her sacrifice for Briavel matched that of Wyl’s and would give some point to all the deaths that surrounded her tragic family.

“Too sad,” Valentyna murmured at her desk. “Your life is given too cheaply, Ylena, for the gain is so little. I cannot escape marrying him.”

She had the letter dispatched immediately, for fear of changing her mind, going so far as to take the parchment to the stables herself, placing it into the courier’s hand.

“How long?” she asked. Briavel also used a relay network for messengers and she felt sure that once they were across the border, the Morgravian couriers would respect the urgency of this missive.

“Two days if we all ride hard, your majesty,” the young man said.

“Then use as many couriers as you can. It is extremely important that King Celimus see this message as quickly as possible.”

“I shall personally ride like the wind, your highness,” he said, and with a bow from a saddle he was gone, clattering over Werryl Bridge and heading northeast as fast as his horse would go.

Valentyna turned away, feeling hollow and more lonely than she had ever felt in her life. Growing up as an only child had taught her to be self-sufficient and imaginative, but nothing could have prepared her for this complete loss of family, friends, and allies. And still, she realized, she could not begin to reach the depth of loss that Ylena must surely be experiencing. No wonder Wyl’s sister was throwing her life away
with such abandon. It might also explain why she was indulging in such curious affections. The Queen had not been able to shake the memory of Ylena’s kiss; it seemed to haunt her every moment. There had been such tenderness in it…no, more than that. It had been filled with love. Valentyna had been kissed only once before in such a manner and that had been by Romen. Although this was a different mouth, different face, different
everything,
there was an aching familiarity to the passion behind that affection. But the memory of that physical love made Valentyna angry too. Angry enough to want to fight: not Ylena, but the person who had perpetrated all the pain. On her way back into the palace, in a state of resentment at the way her life was turning out, she sent a runner to find Commander Liryk.

He arrived slightly out of breath at her study door. “My queen, you wished to see me?”

Valentyna was struck by how old Liryk seemed to be all of a sudden. She had taken his and Krell’s presence around her for granted, as if they would always be in her life, but this man was surely well into his seventh decade. The notion of him not being around one day bit deeply into her thoughts, reminding her that she might lose yet another of her supporters soon. It hardened her resolve.

“Yes, Commander, thank you for coming so quickly. In the absence of a chancellor, I would like you to summon the nobles for me.”

“Of course, your highness,” Liryk said, frowning despite his courteous manner. “All of them?”

“Yes. It is urgent. How swiftly are you able to gather them for a meeting?”

He paused and she wondered whether he was considering her question or her state of mind. He obviously anticipated that she was about to do something dramatic. “Three days, your majesty, if I get the couriers sent immediately.”

“Do it please, Liryk. I’d appreciate it if you would give this the utmost priority.”

“Of course, your highness.” She waited, and of course the
gentle objection came. “It is unusual, though. Perhaps I might give them some inkling of what you wish to discuss so urgently?”

She smiled. She had expected this. “State security, tell them,” she answered, and turned away, not unkindly but with sufficient firmness that Liryk knew he had been dismissed. “Thank you, Liryk,” she added, just in case he thought to try to dissuade her.

Valentyna heard the soft sigh, the protest of his knee as he bowed, and then the sound of the door closing.

W
yl allowed himself to be picked up by Morgravian soldiers and was relieved to see that they were genuine Legionnaires and not mercenaries. It was a young company; although he recognized none of them, they certainly recognized his name. An awkward silence spread through the group of men as Wyl finished his introduction.

“You are General Wyl Thirsk’s sister?” the startled leader qualified.

“I am,” Wyl replied, his spirits soaring. He knew it was unlikely he could change the outcome of what was going to happen, but hearing his own name uttered with such reverence restored his confidence. And perhaps he might live to fight another day in another body.

He wondered whether Valentyna had taken his advice about writing to Celimus, claiming she was sending Ylena to him. Their parting had been so awkward and painful, he supposed the Queen was just glad to be rid of Ylena Thirsk.

The young officer could not help himself. “But what are you doing here? We heard you had disappeared.”

Wyl was certainly not going to start explaining any more than he wanted to give away. “What is your name?” he asked.

“Harken,” the young man replied. “Er, Captain Harken, I hope, by year’s end.”

“Well, Harken, firstly please remember whom you address. I am the daughter of General Fergys Thirsk, Duke of Argorn, and the sister of General Wyl Thirsk. Please treat me in the fashion you would any noble.”

Harken flushed with embarrassment at the stinging rebuke. Blotches of red appeared on his cheeks and ears. “I…I apologize, Lady Ylena.”

When he saw his reprimand had worked, Wyl deliberately looked behind him as if suddenly fearful. He might as well continue with his planned charade and hope that the Queen of Briavel had complied with his suggestion. “Thank you, Harken. Have they gone?”

“Who, my lady?” the man asked, desperate to please. He looked over her shoulder and his companions followed suit, suddenly nervous.

“The Briavellian Guardsmen who brought me to this crossing point.” Swords were drawn instantly, the ring of steel loud in the silence of the morning. “Fret not, gentlemen,” Wyl assured. “They have no quarrel with you. They were concerned only with me.” Wyl held his breath, hoping his detached manner and confident explanation would trick the Legionnaires into believing he had been brought to this point under armed escort.

“Why have they brought you here, my lady?” Harken asked sensibly.

“I am a gift,” Wyl said, taking some grim amusement from the irony of his words. “For your king.”

The aspiring Captain looked appropriately baffled as well as rattled. “I don’t understand.”

“You are not meant to. Your sovereign will and you will raise his ire if I am not taken to him immediately. I have no intention of trying to escape,” Wyl added, glancing toward the rope that had appeared in one anxious pair of hands. “All you’re required to do is escort me into Tenterdyn, gentlemen. Restraint will not be necessary.”

“Put that away,” Harken snapped at the lad, who was not
much younger than he. “You do know who this is, don’t you?” he added, more angry with himself, Wyl suspected, than with the youngster. “Lady Ylena! She is to be treated with respect.”

“Thank you, Harken. I’m sure my brother would be proud of you.”

“I never met him, my lady. He passed away the very week I entered the Legion. But your family’s name means everything to me. All I ever wanted to do was join the Legion and be commanded by General Thirsk.”

“Are you Laud Harken’s son?” Wyl asked in surprise.

“Yes, my lady. I am surprised you know of him.”

Wyl realized his error. “My brother spoke well of Laud Harken. How is he?”

“Dead, my lady. He fell in the north recently.”

“How?”

Harken shrugged, embarrassed by the sorrowful tremor in his voice. “I was told it was a Mountain warrior’s arrow, but, my lady, he was outraged by the Rittylworth scandal and no doubt said too much, too loudly.”

Murmurings erupted within his group, reassuring Wyl that the name of Thirsk still resonated loudly within the Legion. He was counting on this very fact to help Crys to stir up trouble in Pearlis.

“I understand, Harken, and I am deeply sorry for your loss. Now you must take me to Tenterdyn.”

The company remained on patrol while the young Captain-to-be provided the escort alone. This pleased Wyl, for it gave him a chance to learn as much as he could from the gullible youngster. They traveled in silence for a while before Wyl began to ease out some information.

“I imagine the missive from Briavel has arrived by now?”

Harken frowned. “I’m sorry, my lady, I’m not sure what you speak of.”

Wyl felt disappointment slice him. “Apparently there was a courier coming from Queen Valentyna about my arrival.”

Harken shook his head. “We can find out. I will make some inquiries as soon as we arrive.”

“Who is your general now?” Wyl asked. He could see Tenterdyn sprawling in the distance. They would be there soon.

“The King is our general, my lady.”

Celimus had finally gotten his wish and taken over the Legion.

“I see. And I hear he is expecting a parley with the Mountain King?”

“Yes—today. King Cailech arrives by midday.”

“You sound excited, Harken.”

“I am, my lady. If our king marries Queen Valentyna and this parley achieves a truce between Morgravia and the Razor Kingdom, there will be peace at long last.”

Wyl made Ylena smile. “I thought most young men of your age dreamed of going to war?”

“I am engaged to be married, my lady. I dream of Alys more than I do killing for my realm.” He returned her smile with a shy one of his own.

“Good for you. It is a worthy dream. So you trust your king to achieve these two coups?”

Harken smiled ruefully. “If anyone can, King Celimus can.” Wyl suspected that Harken, young as he was, would not be drawn into saying anything openly traitorous, although his tone suggested he felt it.

“Peace for the region would be a rare achievement.”

“Is the Queen as beautiful as everyone says she is?” Harken asked suddenly.

Wyl nodded. “More exquisite than you can possibly imagine.”

“I was told you were a beauty, my lady,” Harken began, then pulled himself back. He looked stricken. “Forgive me, my lady, I meant no offense.”

“None taken. I imagine I look a real fright, dressed like a man and having ridden for days,” Wyl admitted. “It is not easy to feel pretty in this situation.”

“I’m sorry, Lady Ylena, that was tactless of me. Do you mind my asking why you are presenting yourself to the King? There was a rumor that…” He struggled to say more.

“That he tried to kill me?” Wyl finished. The young man nodded. “It is true, Harken. Your king is not a good man, I’m sorry to say, and I think you know it. You suspect your father’s death was not as cut-and-dried as it was painted to be, and you are most likely right. If Laud stood up to the King’s treachery at Rittylworth, then he would have paid in the most dramatic way. I am truly sorry for your family.”

Harken’s eyes were wide, the first hints of fear creeping across his innocent face. They were just a few yards from the compound of Tenterdyn now. Wyl spoke quickly. “Listen to me. I am here to frighten the King, but not to prevent peace. I hope the King’s marriage to the Queen of Briavel will herald the beginning of the great union of our two realms, and that he will forge a peace with King Cailech, but Celimus is not a man ever to be trusted. Remember that, Harken.”

The young man heard the desperation in his companion’s voice. “I don’t want to take you in there, my lady,” he said, further stricken. Both of them saw the gatekeeper stepping out.

“You must. But you must also do what your heart tells you.”

“I don’t understand,” Harken urged.

“You will. You are Legion, used to taking orders, but one of the defining characteristics of an officer of the Legion is that he will never harm another Morgravian unless that person is a betrayer of the realm. Keep that in your heart. Do not allow Celimus to lead you and your men and the rest of the soldiers down the path of darkness. Be true to the Legion first.”