DragonCrown Saga - The Grand Crusade Part 22

Erlestoke laughed aloud and, to the boy's credit, a scarlet flush spread over his face. The prince looked from him to Marsham. "It infuriates you that you were not considered worthy for anything more than delivering messages in the rain. Now, give me the packet."

Marsham snarled. "I am not yours to command, Erlestoke Noland. In there is an order to strip you, and any who travel with you, of your masks. It is all legal, and shall go into effect the moment you step onto Oriosan soil."

Nay had slipped from his saddle and picked up the thick bundle of papers. "Inhere?"

"Have someone read it to you, Carver. You'll find your home has been seized. And you, Master Playfair, are now master of nothing."

Nay glanced back at Erlestoke. The prince had no doubt that at a word, at the flick of a finger, Naysmith Carver would smash in Cabot Marsham's face. Erlestoke fought the temptation to let him do it.

"Master Carver, if you please. The papers to me."

Nay nodded, then pointed the packet at Marsham. "Remember something. Masks are earned. Being born to one isn't earning it." The smith straightened up and looked at the guards again. "Duty to Oriosa is how it started, how it still goes. You've done nothing."

The little man tugged his mask back into proper position. "I have served my king faithfully."

The prince extended his hand and took the packet. "You'll find that serving my father is not the same as serving Oriosa. Thank you, Master Carver."

Nay nodded once. "Don't need anyone to read them."

"I know, but reading them would be a waste of time." Erlestoke flipped it over and saw it had been sealed with his father's ring. He tossed the whole thing to Rumbellow. "If you don't mind, incinerate it."

The Addermage smiled and deftly caught the packet in one hand. His lips barely moved, but in an instant the papers were burning furiously. Rumbellow then threw it back onto the Oriosan side of the border.

Marsham, pale and sodden, trembled in his saddle. "You have been warned. If you enter Oriosa, you will be outlaws. Your pa.s.sage shall be contested, every step of the way, and your bodies shall be left where they fall."

"I doubt that." The prince pointed to two of the Guards. "From the marks on your masks, I see you are from East Country. Taloso?"

The gangling blond looked startled. "Me, Highness? Er, sir..."

"You'll ride there today. You'll tell Count Storton I have returned to Oriosa, that I have come to protect the nation. You will tell him that I don't come to wage war, but to prevent it."

Marsham wheeled his horse around and grabbed the guardsman's reins. "He's lying. You'll deliver no such message. It will be treason if you do. You and your family will be stripped of your masks."

Erlestoke nodded. "You will. Right after Count Marsham strips me ofmymask."

Marsham scowled furiously as Erlestoke's companions circled more closely around him. "You will not get away with this, Erlestoke."

"I'd not be so confident if I were you, Count Marsham. Think about it. Under my father's orders, these two were hanged here. You were sent to confront me and my army at a time when, justifiably, we would be enraged. You did not even ride out beneath a flag of truce. My father intended I should slay you, and likely this pretender, too."

All color drained from Marsham's face.

"My father knows you are a schemer. He can't trust you, wanted you dead, and a.s.sumed I'd kill you as soon as look at you. The story probably circulating through Meredo is that you came to offer me your fealty. Because I killed you, none of your allies would trust me, thus isolating me from those who would fight against my father. You are a small price to pay to prevent our countrymen from joining me."

Erlestoke again looked at the guards. "Which of you was to see to it that Count Marsham did not survive to report back?"

Two of the guards smiled and raised their hands.

"Thank you." Erlestoke nodded to the captain of his scouts. "Kill them."

In an instant, two dozen arrows hissed through the air and thudded into their chests. Both men sagged in their saddles, then fell to the ground in a clatter of plate and mail. Redgrave reeled from his saddle and vomited.

Erlestoke's hazel eyes hardened. "Oriosans are not a.s.sa.s.sins; I will not tolerate that behavior. The two of you from the East Country, you will ride out now and bear my message. Go."

The two of them reined their horses around and galloped back the way they had come. The two remaining guardsmen looked very nervous, though not half so nervous as Marsham. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the riddled bodies of the a.s.sa.s.sins.

"Count Marsham."

The little man gave no sign of hearing.

"Attend me, Count Marsham!" Erlestoke put an edge in his voice, and the little man quivered. But he did force his gaze to the prince. "You are a treasonous dog-and I apologize to dogs for saying that. I know I cannot trust you out of my sight. By rights I could kill you for the insults you have offered me here, but I shall not. I will give you a chance to live, which is more than my father was willing to do. Will you prove yourself useful to me?"

"I am yours to command."

"Not quite the answer I sought, but it will have to do." The prince rubbed a hand over his jaw. "I know you have plotted against my father. You will go to your supporters and enlist them to my cause. They are all guilty of treason, but I can be forgiving and even understanding. You will tell them this for me. You will return with their answers, and I will measure their loyalty in the lances and swords they send to aid me, do you understand?"

"Yes, Highness, completely. I am your creature, heart and soul."

"A pledge of cowardice and corruption; how comforting."

Redgrave slowly stood with Borell supporting him. "What of me, Highness?"

"You, my brother, are a long way from your home in Valsina. Would you like an escort back there?"

The skinny young man nodded. "Please, yes. Thank you."

The prince did raise an eyebrow. "You can, if you wish, return to Meredo."

Redgrave shook his head. "I don't expect your father intended me to return either."

"Probably not, since he knows I don't believe you are the Norrington."

Erlestoke smiled. "But you areaNorrington, and we would be pleased to havey ou with us. By the time we get to Valsina, you can decide how much further you wish to go."

"Thank you, Highness." Redgrave accepted a boost from Borell and climbed back into his saddle. "I'll go as far as you need."

"Good." He looked at Marsham. "Now, go about your duty. Hurry, before I change my mind."

Marsham set off at a hasty trot.

One of the two remaining guards ducked his head nervously. "And what of us, Highness? What are we to do?"

"You have the simplest job of all." Erlestoke smiled. "Do your duty. Welcome us to Oriosa, and wish us well in all we do."

The moment Alexia had dreaded since leaving Narriz had arrived. She tried to steel herself for it, but it was not an easy task. Pain and fear she could defeat, and would defeat yet again. This, however-this sense of loss-just opened a hollow in her belly that would not close.

She knew, in part, it was because of how wonderful the latter half of the week had been. Her troops had made the journey to Bacirro quickly. The Delasena had not yet flooded and the drainage was sufficient that the roads were not washed out. So while plenty of snow and dirt was ground into cold mud that froze each night, it never got boggy enough to slow the carts or the soldiers. It took them only six days to reach the city. And the citizenry, who had already learned about Muroso from the refugees encamped in tents to the south and west, welcomed the troops into their homes.

Alexia had given strict orders about conduct and made very clear the dire nature of punishment if her troops behaved like the enemy. The vast majority of the army comported themselves as guests might, but a few people did get out of hand. Unit leaders made swift examples of those who violated the rules, and the whole of the unit worked to repair any damage done. By and large, order reigned, allowing most troops to work preparing defenses for both the city and the refugee encampments.

Alexia did send scouts out, but not Crow's formation. She kept them close, but scattered so no spies would discern that they were working as a unit. Her intention was to send Crow and his people back south, as if they were to gather more troops and lead them north. When they got halfway back to Narriz, they would head east, into the hills, and disappear.

The scouts she chose did manage to range east and had a number of skirmishes with Aurolani troops.

Gyrkyme reported smoke rising from the area around Fronosa, but not the city itself. Bodies were being burned, and the presence of Aurolani scouts to the west of the pa.s.s indicated the city had fallen.

A bit more disturbing than that was news that the scouts she sent west had not linked up with General Pandiculia's forces. In less than a week, those troops were supposed to reach Bacirro, putting them in position to oppose whatever army came in from Fronosa. If they did not arrive in time, Alexia would have to hold off the enemy alone. And any siege of Bacirro would begin with the wholesale slaughter of refugees, or their fleeing into the city and swelling it to the point where the supplies would evaporate.

All of those concerns did occupy her, but still there was Crow. They had been given rooms in the home of a prominent merchant whose brother led the Bacirro Horse Guards. While not the most opulent of the rooms they had shared, the accommodations somehow suited them best. The bed was big and warm, and a fireplace nearby produced more than enough heat to hold the cold at bay. The room even had a bathing alcove with a huge wooden tub, and after six days on the road Alexia had very much wanted to scrub herself clean.

While she attended to business that first night, Crow had heated the water and scented it for her with sandalwood. Then he sought her out and conducted her back to the room while steam still rose off it. He removed her boots, then slowly stripped her of her clothes. She made to slip his tunic off him, but he gently put her hands aside.

"Be patient, my love."

She watched him closely and bit back a smile as he freed her from the last sc.r.a.p of clothing, then slowly circled her. He kissed her shoulders, front and back, again gently pressing her hands back to her sides.

Standing behind her, he moved her thick braid aside and kissed the back of her neck. She felt the heat of his breath against her skin and pressed back against him. Just feeling him there, his chest pressed against her shoulder blades, made her shiver.

He whispered in her ear, "Princess Alexia, you are everything I desire, I need, and I love in this world.

Allow me to care for you." He kissed her again on the back of the neck, letting his teeth graze her flesh.

Then, with his hands on her hips, he slowly walked her to the bath and held her hand as she stepped into the water.

She groaned aloud as the warmth washed over her. Leaning back, she closed her eyes and smiled.

While she had accepted that long marches, hard saddles, harder ground, and an all-pervading sense of cold was likely to be her lot in life, the luxurious heat of the bath and a scent that was not sweat, blood, or manure pleased her enormously. She relaxed her shoulders and arched her back, letting her spine pop.

Then Crow's strong hands drew her right foot up out of the water. The cool air hit it instantly, but Crow's hands compressed her foot, rubbing, smoothing and soothing, caressing and kneading.

Alexia gasped and opened her eyes. "Oh, how did you know?"

"Lucky guess. You don't mind?"

"Mind? My other foot is jealous."

He winked at her. "It will have its turn."

He was as good as his word, ma.s.saging the other foot, then her calves. His strong fingers found knotted muscle and bled away the tightness. Then he produced soap and a soft cloth, washing her feet and lower legs. He shifted forward and repeated the ma.s.sage with her hands and arms, then washed them as well.

As his ministrations continued, Alexia began to lose herself in the sensations. The heat and the firm pressure of his touch, the weight and softness of the wet cloth as it slid over her body, felt sublime. She lifted her chin as he washed her throat, then sank down a little to let the water lap at her collarbones.

He moved behind her and drew her wet braid from the water. He unplaited it, then began to soap her hair. He lifted the ma.s.s to the top of her head, rubbing and ma.s.saging. One hand or the other constantly started at the nape of her neck, working up and over into her hair. Warm suds dripped down over her face and shoulders. With her eyes closed she could feel it move inch by inch over her skin.

Then equally gently he used a small bowl to scoop up water and rinse her hair. He gathered it up and twisted it to wring out most of the water, then let it hang over the back of the tub, resting it on a towel that absorbed much of the remaining moisture.

Crow leaned close and kissed her on the cheek. "I should likely get you out of there before the water cools off."

She opened one eye and smiled. "You know, there are ways we could heat it up. There's plenty of room for you."

His smile blossomed against her cheek. "For another night, my love. Now I think it is our bed that needs warming."

As she stood, he wrapped her in a thick bath sheet. He gathered her hair in another and dried it, then dried her body, sinking to his knees to get her legs. As he rubbed, he brought a rosy glow to her flesh, pausing every so often to shower her with soft kisses that made her breath come more quickly.

Unable to stand it any longer, she sank long fingers into his hair. "Take me to bed immediately, Crow, or I shall not be responsible for what I do."

He grinned up at her, his beard brushing her thigh. "As you command, Princess."

That night, they had not needed a fire to stay warm. On the other nights they'd had fires, but more for the warm glow of the light, and the way the flickering flames danced shadows over their bodies. Though their daily duties might have necessitated their separation, each night they were together. In the morning, when they would awake holding each other, separation seemed only possible because of that evening's promised reunion.

But now had come the time for Crow to leave for good. They had both tried to ignore that fact in the morning, treating it as any other. They almost accom- plished it, save for one point when he could no longer speak and just held her closely; and a time when she pressed her face to his neck and stained it with tears.

She had gotten up, dressed, and gone out to attend to her duties. She acquitted them well, though Peri and Arimtara noted her distraction and covered for her. Most of what had to be done was clerical work, as supplies kept flowing into the city and had to be allocated. Though no bard's song ever layered glory on a quartermaster, without warehouses bulging and the means to get supplies to the troops, a war could be lost before even the first soldier fell.

By noon, when Crow and his people were set to depart, she finished and returned to their room. His saddlebags waited on the bed along with Alarien. Crow sat on the edge of the empty tub, knotting some of the sandalwood shavings into a small sc.r.a.p of silk.

He smiled as she entered. "This will smell better than anything on the road."

"I hope it will remind you of me."

"It will." He stood and came to her, enfolding her in his arms. "I love you, Alexia. I don't want to leave, but if your plan is to succeed, ifourfuture is to be a.s.sured, I must."

She frowned. "When I formulated this plan, it was supposed to be Resolute leading this group. You were supposed to be with me."

"And I will be. In Fronosa, and soon enough." He tightened his hands at the small of her back, pressing her to him.

She smoothed her hands down over the soft doeskin of his tunic. "I know you know the plan, and are confident you can accomplish it, but you are to take no unnecessary chances."

Crow smiled. "I know that is a directive you give all your commanders, although I'd like to think it holds special meaning for me."

"It does, Crow, I love you. But, more than that, I trust you. Do what is needed, and we will be together in Fronosa. Not soon enough, but soon."

He nodded, then kissed her deeply and held her for a long time. Not nearly long enough, but sufficient that his scent and that of the sandalwood became linked. Reluctantly she let him go and watched from the window as he and his five legions rode south.

He turned in the saddle at the gate and waved, then again at the crest of a far hill. She returned his wave both times, then nodded as he vanished from sight.In Fronosa, my husband. There I shall bathe you.

You'll die for luring me into this trap," Resolute hissed at Banausic, as multiple individuals moved from the shadows in the warehouse district in Otedo.

The black-haired Vorquelf held a hand up. "It's not a trap, Resolute."

"No?" Resolute raised his head and hooked his thumbs in his sword belt. "There are a dozen of them, and you make thirteen. Why do you yet work for her when she will lose?"

One of the shadows stepped forward, allowing the weak yellow light from a guttering streetlamp to illuminate his face. As with all Vorquelves, his eyes had no pupil. In the dim light, only a hint of sapphire showed in them, and likewise the darkness made his brown hair seem almost black. Resolute didn't need the colors to recognize him, and he determined that this one would die first.Not because he is more of a threat than any other, but because I should have killed him long ago.

Predator held his hands up, open and empty. "It is no trap, Resolute. We have come a long way to find you."

Resolute's silver eyes narrowed. "Go back to the Yslin slums. Otedo has nothing for you. Nor do I, so your trip is wasted."

"Wait."