empress of storms (17 page)

It gave the village something else as well: a secure border against demons and spirits. Danaë smiled at the mayor’s wife. “Thank you for your guidance, Mistress Haansen. You’ve been of great assistance.”

****

After the usual flourish of goodbyes the convoy got back on the road. “What did you learn from the bookkeeper?” Danaë asked once the village had disappeared around a bend. 

“He confirmed that someone matching Lukas’s description worked for him for almost a year,” Matthias said. “He also confirmed Haansen’s story about the sudden fit of madness and Lukas running off with one of his horses. But he was vague about any other details.”

“Deliberate, you think?”

“I’m not sure. I did get the feeling he was hiding something. I’ll have someone sent back to question him more closely. What did you find out about the village?”

“Why Lukas was able to stay here for a year without being attacked by anything,” she said, sounding triumphant. “Courtesy of the mayor’s wife, the village is entirely surrounded by rowan trees or rowan wood.”

Matthias’s brow wrinkled. “And that’s important why?”

“Rowans have magical properties. The tree gives protection against malevolent beings and prevents those on a journey from getting lost. If Lukas entered the village, he would have been surrounded by that protection. Whatever was chasing him would have been blocked by the rowans’ power, unable to follow.”

“But it must have broken through eventually,” Matthias pointed out. “How?”

“Haansen said a terrible storm blew through the village and knocked down the arch. And Mistress Haansen said the arch was made of rowan wood. While it was down, it would have broken the circle of protection, allowing the spirit access to the village. Once it was inside, it found Lukas and started attacking him. He’s very lucky the storm happened before dawn, otherwise he may well have died in his sleep.”

She nodded at the road ahead of them. “Once his protection was gone, his only hope of survival would be to get away from the spirit as quickly as possible. So he took a horse and rode for the gap and Hellas while the daylight held. Once he crossed the stream on the far side of the village he would have been safe for a while, since spirits can’t cross moving water. It would have to backtrack to the stream’s source to get around it, giving Lukas more time to escape.”

Matthias’s expression went stony. “He was in Ypres for almost an entire year and I had no idea. I need to speak with Reniel about the efficacy of his spies.”

Danaë felt the need to defend the patriarch. “No spy in their right mind would have expected Lukas to be working in a remote mining village as an apprentice bookkeeper. Also, the rowans may have also been shielding him from them as well.” She shrugged at her husband’s startled look. “Trees are inherently kind, after all.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

A few hours later Schrader called the convoy to a halt in a small clearing a few hundred feet below the pass. “This is the last decent spot to camp this side of the ridge,” he explained when he rode back to Danaë and Matthias. “If we get an early start tomorrow we can clear the pass and be halfway to Hellas by tomorrow night—”

They were interrupted by a distant shout from the rear of the convoy. Frowning, the cavalry officer left them to investigate.

“Did we leave someone in Creswaal?” Darius said, passing him and joining the royal couple.

“Not that I know of,” Matthias said. “Why?”

“There’s an old man riding towards us from that direction. He’s got something large bundled in front of him.”

“Perhaps I won’t have to have a word with Reniel after all,” Matthias said in an undertone, clicking to his mount. Danaë followed him to the back of the convoy. There, an old man in clothes similar to those of the villagers sat on a blowing horse, arguing with one of the guards.

Her brother was right; there was indeed something wrapped in blankets on the old man’s saddle. It wriggled as she watched, and a fold of blanket fell away to reveal a tiny face with a lock of brown-blond hair. The face screwed up and let out a piercing wail.

The old man saw Matthias’s approach and sagged in his saddle. “Your majesty,” he called. “I need to speak to you private-like.”

“Master Simons?” Matthias said in surprise, waving aside the guard. “What are you doing here? And why did you bring a child with you?”

“I had to, majesty.” The old man hoisted the howling child in his arms, patting her on the back. “That lad we discussed? This is his daughter.” He lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. “And your granddaughter.”

7

LUNA

Matthias started to lean back in his chair, remembering at the last moment that, while comfortable, the canvas stool didn’t have a back. At his side Danaë sat calmly, hands clasped in her lap. “You’re telling me this child is the daughter of Prince Lukas?” he said.

“Yes, sire.” Simons didn’t seem impressed by the practical wealth of the royal tent, but had appreciated the comfortable folding chair and the mulled wine offered to him. The little girl sat on his lap now, thumb corked in her mouth. “He showed up in our village nigh on three years ago. City bred lad, pretty as a girl. Said he were mourning his mam and couldn’t go home. Like I said to you earlier, he was a clever lad and I took him on as my apprentice. Not like he was strong enough to work in the mines.”

Matthias blinked at that. “And the child?”

The old man joggled said child in his lap. “Her mam was m’ grand-niece, Kaat. Sweet girl, none too smart but kind as anything. She helped Luke at first, got him set up and all. Then they started steppin’ out together. After a bit they built themselves a cabin and Luna here came ‘long nine months later.”

His attention pricked at the child’s name. It was his mother’s, and Lukas had adored his grandmother. “Luna, you say?”

“Ayuh.” The old man’s face wrinkled. “A mite fancy, but Luke had his mind made up and Kaat was that fond o’ him that she didn’t put up a fuss. After she came, he told me his real name and swore me to keep it secret, that if I told anyone who he was it would call a doom down on him.” He sighed. “Then poor Kaat caught the morbid throat soon afterwards and died. Luke kept sayin’ it was his fault, that he was cursed. A month later that storm blew up and he ran screaming through the village, beating at the air and begging something to leave him alone. Whatever it was, it left at dawn. Luke brought Luna to my cottage and left her with her gran, then took one of my horses and rode off. Ain’t heard from him since.”

Matthias counted back the months. The child was the right age to have been born during Lukas’s disappearance. “Your story is interesting, Master Simons, but I don’t see why I should believe that your grand-niece’s child is my granddaughter,” he said evenly.

The old man nodded at that and reached into his pocket, pulling out something small and golden. He held it up so that it gleamed in the lamplight. “Luke left this. Said if you ever came to the village, I was to show it to you as proof.”

Matthias reached over and plucked the object from the old man’s hand. The carved image of a rearing horse on the ring confirmed its identity, and his chest felt heavy. “This is the signet ring of the Crown Prince of Ypres.”

Simons nodded. “Ayuh. Luke said he weren’t needing it no more.”

Matthias remembered the investment ceremony where he’d crowned his son as his heir and next in line to the throne of Ypres. Lukas had been so promising that day, with Hanne watching with pride from the royal dais. He closed his hand around the ring. “Still not proof. For all I know you could have killed the prince and used this to pawn some toddler off as his heir,” he said bluntly.

The old man blinked once at that, steel coming into his gaze. “We ain’t killers, majesty,” he said. “Mayhap we’re poor, but we’re good folk and we took your son in when he was heartsore and gave him food and shelter. Poor Kaat loved him fair and true, and gave him this babe. Believe me or don’t, it’s your choice.” He shifted little Luna so that her round baby face was visible. “But my niece is a widow, and poorly now. She can’t be lookin’ after her grandchild anymore, and I’m too old to do it m’self. And since you swanned into the village the Haansens are interested in her all of a sudden, offering to take her in and such. I wouldn’t trust them with a dog, much less a babe. So I’m leavin’ her with her only other kin.”

Matthias studied the child. She did bear a certain resemblance to Lukas, with the same wide hazel eyes and blonde-brown hair. But his son’s coloring was common enough in Ypres. It was no guarantee that the old mountain man held a genuine crown princess on his lap. “And if I refuse to take her?”

The old man gave little Luna a long, sad look. “Then the Haansens get her.”

From the corner of his eye Matthias saw Danaë sit up a little straighter than that. His queen’s expression was bland enough, but the subtle tension in her body was easy enough to interpret.

Lukas as a bookkeeper. Lukas living with a mountain girl and siring a child on her. Lukas running away. Only the last part sounded like his son. If he was logical, it was far more probable that Simons had gained Lukas’s signet ring either by foul play or in some sort of gambling, and was using it to rid his family of an unwanted child.

But. If this little Luna was indeed Lukas’s daughter, it made her the only heir to the throne Ypres had at the moment. He glanced at Danaë. The corners of her mouth lifted a fraction, indicating her feelings on the subject.

Caring for foundlings was supposed to be a blessing, as Reniel would undoubtedly say if he were here.
Would it hurt to bring the child along? Flavia could be pressed into service as a nursemaid, and we can find better foster parents than the Haansens somewhere.

He sighed. “Fine. We’ll take her.”

****

A beaming Flavia bore Luna off for a meal of bread soaked in goat milk. “She’ll be happy as a lark on the wing for the rest of the journey,” Danaë commented, looking after them fondly. “She adores children.”

“Thank the gods for that,” Matthias said. “Our train may be well stocked, but the one thing we didn’t bring along was a nursemaid. Of course, I didn’t expect to stumble across a grandchild on the way to my wedding, either.”

That sobered her. “Do you really think Luna isn’t Lukas’s child?”

“If I’m honest, the entire story sounds like farfetched,” Matthias admitted. “But the child shares my mother’s name, and she does have Lukas’s coloring. And then there’s the ring.” He grimaced. “I need to know how it was taken from him. I don’t suppose there’s some sort of spell Ife can cast that would tell me that?”

Danaë’s mouth twisted as she thought. “I don’t believe so. Tracking physical contact would be more of a Terra skill.”

“Damn. I suppose it can wait until I get back to Mons.”

Danaë tried to ignore the mental prick that he would be doing so without her. “Would you like to leave Luna in Hellas with me?” she asked. “I know a number of reliable households that would be happy to foster her.”

Her husband gave her a bemused look. “Why do I suspect you’re thinking about a specific household?”

She flushed. “Well, yes, there’s more than enough room for her at the palace. And if it turns out that she is your granddaughter, it would be best for her to be under royal protection.” She stopped as something occurred to her. “Oh, my. That would make her my granddaughter as well, at least by marriage.” Her mouth curled up. “I never thought I would have a grandchild before I had a child. That teaches me to make assumptions.”

Matthias picked up her hand and kissed it. “You make a beautiful grandmother,” he said. “And I agree, fostering her at the palace would be the best route for now. At least we can make sure she’s taken care of properly.”

“And if she is Lukas’s daughter?”

“That presents us with a whole new array of issues.”

“Such as the line of succession.”

To her surprise Matthias shook his head. “Even if we establish that Luna is indeed Lukas’s daughter, her birth is irregular—gods, I didn’t even ask if Lukas married her mother. And the treaty stipulates that your first offspring with a member of the Ypresian royal house will be my heir. I doubt I could get the council to accept Luna into the line of succession even if we don’t have children.”

Danaë wasn’t sure how she felt about that. On the one hand, she felt a certain sense of relief at Matthias’s declaration. She had been raised to rule a country, and it was natural for her to want her son or daughter on their father’s throne. 

On the other hand, if Luna was Matthias’s blood then she deserved some sort of official recognition, even if it didn’t include the throne. “But if you recognize her as your granddaughter, that would at least grant her some status, wouldn’t it?” she asked. “It’s how things work in Hellas with illegitimate children of the nobility. They can’t inherit their father’s estate unless the father adopts them, but if they’re acknowledged they’re considered minor nobility and receive a bequest from the father’s family.”

“We have similar rules, and yes, Luna could be given a title if I recognize her as my granddaughter,” Matthias admitted. “I could even arrange a good match for her into a noble family. But unless Lukas returns to Mons or until I have another legitimate heir with you, acknowledging Luna turns her into a dangerous pawn. And I don’t want to play her until I have a better view of the board.”

Danaë pictured the little rosy face in her mind. “It’s hard to think of such a little girl as being dangerous.”

“Every wolf starts off as a pup. We have no idea what she’ll grow into.” Matthias nodded to himself. “For now, we make sure she’s protected and taken care of. And the more I think of her being fostered in Hellas, the more I like the idea. If you wish to keep her in the palace I have no objection to that, as long as we stick to the story that she was orphaned.”

“As you wish.” Danaë felt a flutter of nervous excitement at the idea of taking charge of a small child. “She does seem a sweet child.”

“With a healthy set of lungs,” Matthias said wryly. “We’ll be hearing from her again soon, mark my words.”