Shalador's Lady (36 page)

Reyhana’s face, like her voice, shone with enthusiasm. Hearing a sound, she looked behind her, then looked at the men. Her green eyes twinkled with good humor. “Please step aside to leave a clear path to the table. The girls are still getting used to being around Warlord Princes, and they get nervous. But they’re getting better and drop fewer things. We’ve only had one broken glass this week.”

Birdie, who was now assistant housekeeper and assistant trainer of maids, carried the pitcher of ale.

Copper, a village girl in training, carried the tray of glasses.

Watching Copper’s hands shake as she glanced at the men and crept after Birdie, Ranon held his breath.

Then pitcher and tray were on the table and both girls were retreating back to the house.

“You’ll notice there is a shield around the edge of the tray,” Reyhana said. “It won’t help anything if the tray is dropped, but it does prevent a wobble from tipping a glass off the tray.”

“Did you think of that?” Rikoma asked.

“No, Vae did.”

The men laughed, and Ranon guessed that had been Reyhana’s intention. Warlord Princes were lethal predators, and they were used to being feared. Being given an opportunity to laugh with a woman was a moment both appreciated and prized.

Reyhana went back into the house. Hikaeda poured the ale and passed the glasses. For a few minutes, the men looked at the gardens and spoke little.

Then Cassidy walked out of the house. Like Reyhana, she wore a long, light summer dress, but her hair had been put up in a simple knot at the back of her head.

She had just reached Ranon when . . .

“Cassie!”

*Cassie? Cassie!*

Cassidy crossed her eyes and made a face as Gray and Vae caught up with her.

*Hat, Cassie!*

“No,” Cassidy said. “If I put a hat on now, the hair will fall down, and it’s too hot today to have it down.”

*Gray, tell her!*

Coming up on Cassidy’s left side, Gray nodded to the men. He wore a plain white shirt and black trousers

—and his Purple Dusk pendant and ring.

There was nothing challenging about a man wearing his Jewels, and there was nothing special about the clothes, but Ranon felt a curious tension in the other men.

Gray gave the men a conspiratorial smile as he looked each of them in the eyes. That smile included a mischievous wink when his eyes moved to Hikaeda. Then he called in a parasol, opened it, and held it over Cassidy.

When she did nothing but look up at it, Gray said politely, “Are you going to take the parasol, or should I hold it for you?”

“You’re spending too much time with somebody,” Cassidy muttered as she took the parasol. “You’re getting too good at this.”

“Do you want to hit me?” Gray asked.

“I’m thinking about it.”

Cassidy and Gray smiled at each other—and those smiles had enough heat to take everyone by surprise.

Including Ranon.

“Gentlemen,” Gray said, “if you would join us, the meal is ready.”

He raised his right hand, an escort’s gesture. Cassidy placed her left hand over his in automatic response

—like a Queen would respond to her First Escort or Consort . . . or her husband.

Cassidy and Gray walked back to the house. Ranon started to follow, then realized the others weren’t coming with him.

Hikaeda stared at nothing. “We were friends,” he said softly. “Before he was taken and hurt so badly, we were friends. I never thought . . . It’s good to see him again. It’s good to see Jared Blaed.”

Hikaeda headed for the house, followed by Rikoma and Elendill. But Ferall still lingered.

“Something wrong?” Ranon asked.

Ferall shook his head. “I want this for my own village, for my own Province.”

“Then come inside,” Ranon said. “There are people around the table who can help.”

“Yes,” Ferall said softly, “I think maybe there are.”

R
anon gave his horse its head and caught up to Burle before the man reached the landen community.

Something had surprised Lord Rogir when he stopped at the community to see how the cleanup and repairs were coming along, and anything that would surprise a senior guard was something Ranon wanted to check out for himself—especially when Cassidy’s father was about to ride into that community.

Ranon rode through the arched gateway ahead of Burle, then reined in, understanding Rogir’s surprise.

Lilly Weaver and JuliDee had been staying with Rogir’s family since the flight from Grayhaven. Lilly and Rogir’s wife had worked together to clean up the senior guard’s household. Other women in the village had also pitched in to give two other cottages a good scrubbing. One cottage went to Lord Brandon and his wife, and the other was to be a general residence for the unmarried guards. After that, the women had been driving out to the community to start cleaning up the attached row houses.

Now there were several wagons parked close to the houses and many unfamiliar faces—and there was James Weaver, hugging his wife.

Rogir stood off to one side with a couple of his men, watching the reunion. Deciding that was the best choice for an explanation, Ranon guided his horse over to the men and dismounted. James, spotting him, gave Lilly one more hug and joined them.

“You made good time,” Ranon said. “I don’t think all the houses are ready to be occupied.”

“Lilly says they have three that are clean and in good order,” James said. “Mostly good order. Lilly wanted to know about—”

*Puppies!*

Ranon stiffened. So did Rogir. Burle just climbed off the wagon and headed over to them as Wynne, a Sceltie with a pure white head, and black-f aced Duffy jumped out of the wagon.

Burle looked at Ranon and shrugged. “They wanted to come.”

*Puppies!* Wynne wagged her tail at the smaller landen children.

Then Duffy froze for a moment before shooting straight up into the air to hover well above the buildings.

His tail began wagging so hard the motion knocked him sideways as he shouted, *Sheep!*

Oh, shit, Ranon thought.

“You outrank the rest of us,” Rogir said.

The man didn’t have to sound so damned cheerful—and relieved—about it. Of course, Keely had taken up residence with Rogir’s family. Having enough experience now trying to deal with just one, the man could be somewhat forgiven for not wanting to deal with a pair of Scelties.

“Duffy, come down now,” Ranon said.

*They have sheep!*

And may the Darkness have mercy on them. “Duffy,” he said firmly.

Duffy dropped out of the air so fast, Ranon was sure the dog would hit the ground. But he came to a stop an arm’s length from the ground and gently floated down the rest of the way.

“What did your lady want to know?” Burle asked.

Looking a little apprehensive, James pulled his attention away from the Scelties. “There isn’t an ice chest that she could find in the kitchen area.” He sounded apologetic. “It would help our food last longer if we could purchase some ice.”

Burle frowned. “There are cold boxes, and each of them have a small freezer inside the main box. I checked them out, and they’re all in good working order. Need a good scrubbing, of course, but if that’s been done, they’re ready for a cold spell.”

Seeing James’s discomfort, Ranon said, “I think that’s the problem, Burle. The cold boxes don’t work without Craft, and landens can’t do Craft.”

“There aren’t any youths in your village who are interested in earning some pocket money?” Burle asked.

Then he huffed. “Look. I know things have been hard here. You just need to look around to see it. And I know there have been bad troubles here between the Blood and landens. But the fighting is over, and from what I understand there wasn’t any of that kind of fighting in Eyota. These people are here because you all decided you were willing to work together to build a new life. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes,” Ranon said.

“So.” Burle looked at James. “Cold box is more dependable than ice. The spell needs to be renewed on a weekly basis.” Now he looked at Ranon and Rogir. “Around Weavers Field, where I come from, a couple of enterprising young Warlords go to the neighboring landen village where some of the people have bought cold boxes. They charge a fee for maintaining the spell on each cold box. Now I know things are tight here and no one has much coin to spare, but these houses also have a tank for hot water that needs Craft too.

So it seems to me that charging three coppers a week for both spells would be fair. At least for this first little while.”

“I can ask around the village and see if anyone is interested,” Ranon said.

*We could do those spells,* Wynne said.

*We know our Craft,* Duffy said.

The men looked at one another. No one had noticed the Scelties joining them.

“Well,” Burle finally said. “You come with me. I’ll show you the spells, and you can give them a try. Then we’ll see.”

*What happens if they do it wrong?* Ranon asked Burle.

*Then I guess I’ll be buying that landen family another cold box or ice chest,* Burle replied as he and the Scelties went into one of the houses.

“We didn’t expect you for a few more days,” Rogir said.

“That was my decision, sir,” Jaego said.

“Mine too,” Ristoff said. “Moore is about a day behind us with the rest of the landen families and livestock.”

“You must have driven the animals awfully hard,” Rogir said.

“No, sir. We had help.” James shook his head and sounded like he still didn’t quite believe what had happened.

Jaego nodded, then looked at the other guard. “Ristoff and I took the liberty to make some decisions on the Queen’s behalf.”

Ranon stiffened, then forced himself to relax. Hadn’t he also taken the liberty to make some promises in Cassidy’s name? If these men were going to serve as guards in her court, he had to show some confidence in their decisions—at least until those decisions proved unworthy of that trust. “Explain.”

“People are still feeling plenty uneasy, and we were concerned about the landen families traveling so far,”

Jaego said. “Especially since some of the raiding parties had traveled the same way during the uprisings.

Some animals, and a couple of women with a lot more men.”

“Two days out, we stopped at a Coaching station on the outskirts of a village,” Ristoff said. “Showed the Coachmen the letters of passage from the Queen’s Steward, and told them that she wanted these craftsmen and the other families settled near her home village as part of her plans to restore Dena Nehele.

They had heard of some of the things Lady Cassidy has done already to help restore our land, so they offered their livestock Coach and a passenger Coach. Since it required several trips, and we had to load the wagons into the livestock Coach after the animals, we agreed on a spot south of the Heartsblood River as a place to disembark.”

Jaego called in some papers and handed them to Ranon. “We didn’t have enough marks to cover the usual fares, but the Coachmen didn’t name a price. Those papers indicate the number of trips they made, the number of wagons and livestock taken. They said they’ll accept whatever fee the Queen deems fair.”

“They did ask that we mention their names,” Ristoff said. “They wanted Lady Cassidy to know there are others beyond her court who are willing to serve in their own way.”

The ripples from one heart can change so much, Ranon thought. Cassidy has changed so much.

“Well done,” he said, his voice warm with approval. “Well done.”

Then he noticed Burle coming out of the house. The man kept scratching the back of his neck, but Ranon didn’t think the itch was on Burle’s skin.

“Problem?” he asked.

“No,” Burle replied. “Not exactly. Those two youngsters are right. They do know their Craft. They learned both those spells after being shown once, and they can do them better than a good many young humans I’ve known.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Why did he ask the question when he didn’t really want to be given the answer?

Burle wasn’t looking any of them in the eye, and that made Ranon nervous.

“It’s like this,” Burle finally said. “Wynne and Duffy want to try out this payment-for-work idea humans seem so fond of.”

Ah, shit.

“So they’ll maintain the spells on the cold boxes and water tanks for three coppers a week for each household.” Burle looked at James Weaver.

“That sounds fair,” James said.

“They also want three coppers a day to guard and herd livestock.”

“I thought they liked herding sheep,” Rogir said.

“A man who likes his work still wants to be paid for it,” Burle said.

“Anything else?” Ranon asked.

Burle nodded. “Since they’ll be helping guard the community, they’ll live in the guardhouse with whoever is stationed here. They want their own big chair so the humans can’t snarl about them being on the furniture.”

Ranon found himself nodding in time with Rogir.

“One of them is free each week to go to story time in the village,” Burle continued. He glanced at James.

“Do you have a teacher for your children?”

James nodded. “Potter’s wife has been teaching some of our children.”

“Well, Wynne and Duffy want a little time with the teacher each day to continue learning to read and do their sums.”

Ranon’s jaw dropped. “They read? They can read? Then why do I have to read Sceltie Saves the Day every damn night?”

Rogir and James looked at him.

“You don’t have children yet, do you?” James asked.

The Rock of Foreboding sank in the pond of Ranon’s belly.

Hell’s fire. He had read that damn book too many times.

“Think of this as practice,” Rogir said.

“Next thing you know they’ll be writing their own stories,” Ranon muttered.

Burle shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Writing requires special Craft for a Sceltie, and it’s hard to learn. Someone named Ladvarian can write a whole letter, but he got special training from the living myth.

Of the Scelties here, only Vae can write a little.”

Vae could write? Hell’s fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful.