Duty: a novel of Rhynan (33 page)

Finally, he withdrew, signaling the end of the
gathering.

The courtiers and court staff disbanded in a
hurry.

Dentin left after a swift bow to me and Tomas. I
hoped I would see him before he left.

I turned around to find Tomas standing closer than I
thought. His dark eyes drew in my gaze, relief in the midst of
exhaustion.

“Come, wife.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “We
have sleep to catch up on.”

“No kiss of celebration this time?” I widened my eyes
in false innocence.

He laughed and caught me up in his arms, spun me
around. Finally setting my feet on the ground, he didn’t pause to
let me catch my breath before lacing his fingers through my hair.
“I love you, Brielle,” he whispered before kissing me so that I
clung to him for balance.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Mother! They are here!” Darnay ran into the great
hall, his new puppy at his heels and barking so that the ceiling
echoed with the ruckus. Sliding the last few feet and colliding
with my legs, the boy wrapped his arms about my waist in an effort
to keep upright. The grasp quickly morphed into a hug. The dog
danced about and continued yapping.

“Hush, Samson!” I freed a hand to signal the dog to
sit. As the puppy’s wiggly hind end lowered to the floor, tail
whipping the rushes every which way, a wail rose to replace his
yapping.

“Linora.” Darnay released me and dashed to the cradle
only a few steps away. “Sh. It is all well.” Scooping his little
sister from her nest of blankets, he smiled as she quieted to stare
at his face and bat at his nose.

The instant attraction was reassuring to see. Even
now, two years since my marriage to Tomas, I reveled in how
Darnay’s attitude had changed toward me. Linora’s birth three
months ago solidified our family in ways I had not expected. She
was of the three of us, not a fragment of the past.

Darnay took to the role of older brother with joy and
a seven-year-old’s eagerness to help. The attraction between the
siblings had been almost instant and mutual. Linora usually drank
in his every word, laughed and smiled at his antics, and would soon
be trailing him everywhere. As every older sibling does, Darnay did
tire of sharing Tomas with Linora when he would much rather Tomas
be outside teaching him to use a bow.

“Who arrived?” I asked Darnay as he bounced the now
smiling Linora.

“I spotted Father and Lander coming through the outer
bailey gate.”

I splayed a hand across my middle as it tightened
with anxiety.

“Don’t worry, Mother, he will like you.” Darnay
smiled up at me with the confidence of a young man with little
experience with disappointment.

“Like you liked me at first?” I smiled and ruffled
his hair so he knew I teased.

“Mother, please stop. I don’t want to look like a
little boy.” He handed me Linora so he could smooth his dark
curls.

I pressed my face against Linora’s soft auburn
spirals and breathed in the baby scent of her. She tangled her
fingers in my own escaped curls and tried to cram them in her
mouth.

“We are home. Where is everyone?”

Tomas’ voice brought my head around, yanking my hair
and Linora’s fist from her mouth. She protested with a mighty wail.
Despite her angry noise, I couldn’t tear my gaze from the welcome
sight of my husband striding down the great hall.

“Father!” Abandoning his unruly hair, Darnay ran to
his father. He was almost too tall to be swung about, but Tomas did
anyway. Bracing for the catch and throwing his son up as though he
were still five.

“Did you take good care of the women while I was
gone?”

“Yes, I watched Linora while she slept every
afternoon. I carried the linens for Tatin. And I played with Linora
four times so Mother could nap, didn’t I Mother?”

I nodded as I tried to ease Linora’s fist open. “He
was very helpful.”

Darnay immediately launched into a story about his
recent training with Antano.

“Whoa, just a minute, Darnay. Mother needs some
help.” Tomas set him gently on his feet and approached me with a
smile.

Linora, spotting her father, reached both arms out to
him and attempted to launch herself from my arms, my hair still in
her fist.

Tomas laughed as he caught her. “You aren’t supposed
to be stealing your mother’s hair, little one. You will grow plenty
of your own soon enough.”

With both hands available, I made quick work of
freeing myself from my daughter’s grasp. “How did it go?” I asked
in a whisper as Tomas leaned in for a kiss.

He didn’t pause to answer. Claiming my mouth and
pulling me up against him with his free arm in a way that promised
more delightful attention later, he worked a familiar magic on my
senses.

“I missed you, wife.” He drew back to kiss my temple
before retreating. “I will fill you in on the details later.”

The fleeting grimace on his face indicated enough
discomfort to make me concerned, but I pushed my worries away when
he turned to face the far end of the hall. There, standing in the
shadows and looking as though she wished the floor would swallow
her, was a tall young woman carrying a thin, toddler boy.

“Come and greet my family, Gelsey.” Tomas beckoned
the girl toward me. “Brielle, this is Gelsey, an orphan who has
been rearing Lander for Rolendis.”

Gelsey came forward and dipped an awkward curtsey
before offering a shy smile.

I made a point to smile warmly in return.

“Welcome to our home, Gelsey.”

“And this–” Tomas placed a gentle hand on the small
head of the boy in Gelsey’s arms. “–is Lander, son of Rolendis and
Kolbent Briaren.”

I approached slowly. The boy’s wide blue eyes watched
my movements from beneath a thick fringe of very straight brown
hair. The hair and eyes looked nothing like Rolendis, but the
almost pretty form of the boy’s face reflected his mother.

I offered a hand. “Very nice to meet you, Lander. I
am Brielle.”

Lander regarded my offered fingers with suspicion.
Then he turned away, pressing his face into the hollow of Gelsey’s
narrow shoulder.

“He is hesitant of strangers, my lady.”

I nodded. “I would be too if I was just taken to a
new and strange place. Is there anything he particularly likes? Any
favorite foods?”

“He loves white bread and butter.”

I smiled at the mention of the delicacy. “I am sure
we can find you some white bread and butter.”

“I will get it.” Darnay disappeared in the direction
of the kitchens.

“Do you have any preferred foods, Gelsey?” I
asked.

“Me, my lady?”

“Of course, you must be hungry too. Come, let the
three of us go to the kitchen and see about feeding you both. Then
I will have Tatin show you two to the nurseries. I assume you won’t
mind sleeping in there with the children and their nurse for the
first few nights until Lander adjusts.”

As I spoke, Lander slowly eased his face from
Gelsey’s shoulder. “Gelsey stay?”

I smiled into his fair eyes. “Yes, Gelsey can
stay.”

His small mouth lost a little bit of its petulant
firmness. “Bread?”

“Yes.”

“Let me show them, my lady.” Tatin had appeared in
her usual, efficient way. I nodded my agreement. The expression on
Tomas’ face indicated he wanted me to himself. Taking Linora from
Tomas, Tatin led the way toward the kitchens. As the door closed
behind them, I heard the girls exchange introductions.

“Now, wife, I have plans for you.” Tomas’ strong arms
enfolded me, pulling me backwards into his warmth. “I have missed
you, and I intend to take advantage of our temporarily childless
state by whisking you away.”

I turned in his arms so we almost brushed noses.
“What makes you think I don’t have similar plans, my lord?”

~~~~~~

When I was about four or five years old, I was
admitted into the hospital for eye surgery. While there a friend of
the family came to visit me and he gave me a bear with a t-shirt
that said, “Consider yourself hugged.” This is my first time
including acknowledgments in one of my books. That said, I realize
I am not going to be able to thank everyone by name who has helped
in the creation of this story. If I miss mentioning you, please
“Consider yourself thanked.”

Abigail, thank you for the spark that set fire to
this story. I hope it lives up to your expectations for the opening
line. Also, I owe you greatly for the selection of Brielle’s name.
Your comment prompted me to look at the name twice.

Thank you, Elizabeth, for offering the other opening
line that I used in the first chapter. Your contribution fed the
story and gave me a place to begin with Brielle’s character.

Alyssa and Joanna, thank you for naming Brielle. Once
she had a name, her personality and past opened for me. She
wouldn’t be the same to me if she bore the name Susan or Kay.

Thank you to my wonderful and supportive husband for
letting me disappear on random evenings to write. Without you, this
book would have never been written. Most of all, thank you for your
love.

To the wait staff of our local restaurants, thank you
for your patience with the odd woman with the laptop who would show
up late at night, ask for a booth, and type like mad. You were
unfailingly kind and generous.

My children, you contributed equal parts motivation,
inspiration, and distraction when I needed it. To my oldest son who
planted the seed of Darnay in my mind, I hope you are pleased that
you did, when you are old enough to understand.

Lovely ladies of Iridescent Inklings, thank you for
your feedback, support, and chatting with me about writing and
other various topics. Your encouragement saw me through the rough
spots when my characters weren’t cooperating or when I grasped for
a new plot idea on the fly.

Not least, and certainly not last, Charissa, my
sister of the pen and sister of the heart, you never fail to listen
and give good advice, no matter the topic.

Ann, thank you for reassuring me that my scribbling
has value despite my fears.

To all my beta readers, thank you from the bottom of
my heart. You push me to improve. Without you, this book wouldn't
be as polished as it is.

Finally, thank you, dear reader, for picking up this
book. I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed
writing it.

- Rachel Rossano

As a happily married mother of three small
children, Rachel Rossano dreams of new stories among the chaos of
diapers and sippy cups. Then she writes as fast as she can during
nap times and after the little ones are tucked in for the night.
She draws from a long history as an avid reader and lover of books.
Usually she writes fantasy novels that masquerade as historical,
but she also dabbles in the science and speculative fiction
genres.

Twitter:

http://twitter.com/@RachelRossano

Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/RachelRossanoRambles

Smashwords:

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/anavrea

Blog:

http://rachel-rossano.blogspot.com

Also written by Rachel Rossano

The Mercenary’s Marriage

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/83328

The Crown of Anavrea

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/96223

Exchange

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/92034

Word and Deed

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/121981

Coming Soon

Wren (A Romany Epistle Novel)

A Romany Epistle Novel

An excerpt -

Snow turned the courtyard into a mess of slosh and
muck. The space didn’t welcome the kind of activity I intended. My
hands itched to grasp a weapon and everything in my being screamed
that I should destroy something. Not a safe state of mind for
plotting logically or sitting still. I strode through the slush to
the heavy keep door. The great hall would work perfectly for my
short term plans, open area and shelter from the elements.

I turned back before opening the door. Wren was close
on my heels.

“Care for a round of sparring?”

Her strange eyes cleared from worried brown to an
amused amber. “Do you have an extra sword?”

I shook my head as I shoved the door. “I was thinking
along the lines of staffs or cudgels, something that won’t kill you
if I miscalculate.”

“Miscalculate? You should be a bit more concerned
about me hurting you.” The wooden door closed behind her with a
muffled thump. “Do you want to be disturbed?” She indicated the
repaired bolting system.

“Lock it. Let them wonder if we are killing each
other.”

The worn stone floor, spread with rushes, lay empty.
An old trestle table dug out of storage rested against the far
wall, and the newly-beaten tapestries adorned the walls. I ignored
them. Now was not the time to dwell on the past. I needed to drive
history from my mind, far from my mind. Exercising until I was too
exhausted to think would numb the pain. It would distance the ache
enough so I might progress beyond the inclination to kill the
enforcer slowly with my bare hands. He killed my parents!

“Weapons?” Wren’s voice cut through my thoughts at
just the right moment.

“Take your choice.” I indicated the rack of various
implements next to the trestle table. Walking to the far end, I
shed layers of clothing down to tunic and britches. “Are you sure
you are up for this?” Discarding the last overtunic on the heap, I
shivered in the frigid air. I welcomed the discomfort.