Duty: a novel of Rhynan (21 page)

“I am sorry.”

Her kindness was too much. A sob escaped. Like a
breached dam, the flood followed. Before I could gasp for breath,
Anise was there. Strong arms and the scent of lemon surrounded me.
I stopped fighting the tears and let them flow. She offered no
platitudes and no excuses, just the warm assurance I wasn’t
alone.

My tears dried up at last. She offered me a clean,
dry rag and moved back to give me space to use it. “We received
word Tomas is on his way back.” She picked up my scrub brush and
the bucket of dirty water. “He met up with King Mendal. Apparently
Jorndar’s men were discovered before they could attack. Lord Dentin
extracted the truth from them and they are all coming to deal with
Jorndar.”

“When will they get here?”

“Tomorrow. Mendal travels slowly these days.”

I puzzled over her reply, but she continued before I
could ask for more details.

“Tomas sent word that Mendal and Dentin want to meet
you. I wouldn’t be surprised if Tomas has been speaking of
you.”

I would’ve been astounded if he had. If so, what had
he said? I ran at the first testing of my strength and courage.
Tomas wouldn’t have run.

“We will need to find you better clothing.”

I surveyed the ruined mess of cloth that was once a
tunic, surcoat, and leggings. The formerly heather gray wool hung
stiff with mud and grime and heavy with water. It was salvageable,
possibly, but not in time for me to wear the next morning.

“I have worn everything I brought. The other clothes
are not as dirty as this one, but still none are fancy enough to
wear before a king. I packed for the road not a court event.” I did
not mention that I didn’t own anything fine enough even if I
carried my whole wardrobe with me. “My wedding dress and all of my
mother’s clothing burned.” Moisture flooded my eyes, but I refused
to cry again. They were only things. I would learn to live without
them.

“Surely some of the villagers still have some finery.
We shall see if we can find some for you to borrow.”

I didn’t share her optimism, but I felt obligated to
try for Tomas’ sake. I didn’t want to let him down again.

Much to my surprise, the women had some treasures to
share. Loren produced a dress she intended for my birthing day.
Deep green wool trimmed at the neck and wrists in dark plum-colored
purple, it was elegant in its simplicity. Only the hem remained
unfinished, a task easily completed in the time allowed. Granny
Toren produced combs for my hair, remnants from her wedding well
over half a century past. Yarni offered a girdle of green wool so
dark it was almost black. She had been trying for a spring green
and mixed the dye wrong. We agreed that we could hide my sturdy
shoes beneath the skirt of the dress.

By the time we gathered the selection, the sun hung
low in the sky and it was time for the evening meal. The village
women spread a lean table, but they made sure there was some for
everyone. Anise had Jarvin bring the children from the camp. Darnay
avoided me, but Elise offered me a warm hug before running off to
play with the girls gathering around the stacks of broken
furniture. As far as I could see, they were rearranging it into
pretend houses for play.

Despite my protests that sleeping would bring my
hair’s wild side out again, Anise and Loren insisted I bathe right
before bed. They predicted I would sleep late and not have time for
much beyond eating and dressing before meeting the king the next
morning.

“Now to see to those hands.” Anise rummaged through
the satchel she brought from the camp.

I surveyed my hands in dismay. Chapped and red from
work, one of my knuckles was bleeding.

Anise handed me a salve.

“When you emerge from the bath, slather it on and
then don’t touch anything.”

She led me into the smallest of the newly cleaned
cottages. After the scalding bath and vigorous scrub down from
Anise, Loren combed the gobs of knots from my hair. I fell asleep
before the fire while she twisted my damp curls into tight braids
in an effort to keep them tame for the morning.

My anxiety followed me into sleep. I dreamed of
meeting the king all night. Rather, I dreamed of preparing for the
meeting with the king. First my hair fell out, then my teeth. My
dress ripped. I tripped walking across the battlefield to meet
them. When I finally arrived, Mendal was an ugly hag, Dentin leered
like the guard outside the armory, and Tomas was nowhere to be
seen. When I asked about him, Mendal waved away a fly and said, “I
had him executed for treason. Now we can marry you off again.” I
screamed. He laughed, and Dentin reached for his sword to run me
through.

I awoke cold and tense. Loren was shoving my
shoulder.

“You were screaming in your sleep.” She peered into
my face. “Are you well?”

My neck felt like a bowstring and my shoulders ached
as though I was lifting a boulder instead of my hand. Forcing
myself to my feet, I began working out the stiffness.

“I dreamed badly. I will be fine.”

“Good.” She smiled encouragement. “We need to get you
into your dress and start on your hair. We only have a few hours
before your honor guard returns for you.”

“So soon?” I checked the window. Overcast skies
blocked the sun.

“King Mendal arrived early. His camp is growing
larger than Irvaine’s. Every time we think they have raised the
last tent, the crew lugs out a new bundle of canvas and starts
driving stakes into the ground. At this rate we will have no
untouched land to plant next spring. We will have to prepare all
the fields from scratch.”

“At least you will be planting in Ryhnan in relative
freedom and not under a western baron’s oppressive eye.” I couldn’t
turn my head to the left without shooting pain. I quit trying.

“True.” She dragged a bench into the middle of the
room and arranged my dress across it along with a clean chemise and
the girdle.

“Have you seen Irvaine?” I rose, taking the blanket
with me, but it couldn’t shield my stocking-covered feet from the
winter chill of the hearth stones. It cut through to my skin almost
immediately.

“No word from anyone about anything beyond the
presentation.”

I didn’t know enough to guess if this was normal or
abnormal for wives being presented to the king for the first time.
Or, it might have simply been a matter of ability. Tomas might be
overwhelmed with other responsibilities. My duty was to stand alone
if necessary. And stand I would.

I dressed quickly. Loren assisted with the buttons
and seeing to the fall of the girdle and skirt.

“Lovely,” Anise proclaimed when she bustled in as we
finished putting on my heavy shoes without wrinkling the skirt.
“Let me see to that hair and we will make Tomas proud.”

As I predicted, curls escaped the braids in all
directions. Thankfully Anise didn’t have an elaborate style in
mind. She combed and then twisted it all into a loose braid that
fell to my waist like a long red cord and tied the end with a
leather thong. Then she brought out my belt with my knife still
attached. When she moved to put it about my hips, I stopped
her.

“Won’t it hurt the appearance we are seeking?”

“No, quite the opposite.” She pulled the leather
through the buckle, caught it on the tongue and tucked the excess
into the belt so it didn’t hang down awkwardly. “You are a warrior
woman from a village of strong women. You are not seeking the
king’s protection as a maiden to be bargained with and sold as a
political pawn. You come to the king as one who will swear an oath
and stand at your husband’s side. He needs to see you can do your
part to support his reign.”

“But to carry a blade into the king’s presence?” I
searched her face. To me, it seemed as though to do so would be
asking to be cut down.

“The men carry much more dangerous weapons and skills
with them.” Seeing that my concern did not lessen, she offered a
compromise. “Glance around, if the men are all unarmed, offer your
knife as a show of fealty. The king should accept such a
gesture.”

A thump on the door ended the conversation.

“It is time.” Anise hugged me briefly. “You will do
well.”

I didn’t share her confidence, but I smiled my thanks
all the same.

Loren’s hug lasted longer. She pulled my cloak around
my shoulders. As the heavy layers settled, I was reminded of the
first time Tomas threw it about me.

I stepped out into the cold.

“My lady.” Captain Eirianware greeted me with a bow.
His six men were still with him. They all appeared well rested
despite the rotating shifts they must have taken outside my
door.

“Have you spoken to Lord Irvaine?”

Although puzzled at the question, Eirianware answered
glibly enough. “Not since you have, my lady. I have heard that he
arrived with the king, but other than that, I have heard
nothing.”

I nodded. It was well known where I slept. I sent
word to Jarvin the first night. Anise had been back and forth from
the camp to the village since Tomas’ departure. If he sought me, he
would have found me.

“So, which way are we walking?”

Eirianware led me to the southern edge of the
village. The battlefield, still a mess of mud and frozen slush,
spread across the gully between the village and the southern-most
fields, which were occupied by Irvaine’s camp. The banners of
Rathenridge and Landry flapped in the wind beneath Irvaine’s emblem
of a golden hart on a field of green.

The king’s camp lay sprawled across the eastern-most
fields. A great flag on a pole twice the height of a man marked the
edge of the camp. A hawk, wings unfurled and claws spread, shown
red on a field of caramel brown. Gilt highlighted the bird’s claws
and crazed eyes. The sight of the banner was enough to slow my
steps.

“Where am I to present myself?” I asked
Eirianware.

“Outside the king’s pavilion. I was told we would be
met at the edge of camp.”

As he spoke, I spotted a group of men lingering
beneath the crimson bird. As we approached, they fell into
formation, a tall but unassuming man at their head. He was the man
who stepped forward to greet us.

“Lady Irvaine, I presume.” He bowed with the
practiced air of a man who performed the movement often. As he
straightened, we locked eyes.

“Lord Dentin, I presume.”

“Why do you assume I am he?”

“You have the look of a man more accustomed to the
background than the focus of attention. Also, you wear the colors
of Dentin’s household.”

His eyebrows rose in what I hoped was appreciation.
“Tomas said you were bright, but he didn’t mention observant.”

A burst of warmth flooded my chest. Still, I remained
outwardly reserved. Tomas indicated Lord Dentin could be a valuable
ally or a dangerous friend. Considering the complicated depths of
my husband, I expected the same of his friends.

“I don’t know whether to be afraid or flattered.”

“Why?” He smiled, but his eyes narrowed.

“The king sent the man responsible for the security
of the realm to escort me to my presentation. Does he think I
intend to assassinate him?”

“You are armed.” His eyebrows rose and his eyes
challenged me, but the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

“It is intended to be for show. You may take it.” I
offered the knife, but Dentin made no move to accept it.

“Keep it. Tomas sent me.”

I returned the dagger to its sheath. “Is he afraid I
will assassinate the king?”

Dentin laughed. “Hardly. He thought you would need
support, a conclusion I do not share.”

“So you are here as a friend?”

“In part.” He offered his left arm to me.

“The other part?” I laid my hand upon his
forearm.

“Parts, my lady. First and foremost, I am a loyal
subject of the king.” He led the way through the tent city. Our men
fell into formation behind us like the train of a regal gown.

“I am as well.”

“So, treason does not run in the family?”

I tensed. “I am not my cousin, my lord. We are
nothing alike.”

He turned to scan my face with a care. I met his
scrutiny with a steady regard. His brown eyes were pleasantly
shaped. He had even features, a strong jaw, well-proportioned nose,
and a pleasing smile hidden behind the tension of the moment. I
returned my gaze to his eyes. I had nothing to hide from this
man.

“The king sent you, didn’t he?”

He focused straight ahead. “No, he didn’t, but I
wouldn’t be much of a defender of the realm if I didn’t take
advantage of the opportunity allotted me.”

“So, you are searching for an assassin?”

“Always.”

“How do you live in constant vigilance?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?” He turned his head
and regarded me for an instant out of the corner of his eye. “I
haven’t decided whether or not to trust you yet.”

“Why would I want to kill him?”

“He accepted you as part of your cousin’s loyalty
demonstration.”

“My cousin sold me to save his life. I have much more
reason to hate Orwin than the king.”

“He gave you to Tomas.”

The awarding of my life into Tomas’ hands as though I
was a possession still irritated my pride, but I had to admit the
truth. “Tomas has been a kind and dutiful husband, better than any
I would find on my own.”

“I think it is much more than duty that drives Tomas’
actions. He is always the dutiful man, sometimes to a fault.”

Thinking of Rolendis and Jorndar, I had to agree.
“His best attribute and his worst.”

“Not his best. Once he loves, he loves for life.”

Before I could ask him what he meant, we stepped into
an open space among the tents and the opportunity for speaking
passed. A great space spread before us. Contrasting the mud and
slush underfoot, all the men awaiting us stood about in court
dress.