Chapter 13 – A Little Treason #5
“There are a few places we might pause on the way,” she said, examining their route on a map.
“It would excite admiration and envy if Her Grace could speak of visiting the hot springs of Collume, or here, the alchemists of Metiche. It would be good if her anecdotes consisted of more than blizzards, plague, and stabbings. I suppose it is no accident we are passing through Lomonde?”
“They do remember His Grace fondly there,” Miche said dryly.
“It will excite talk on the way to the capital, which is all to the good,” she agreed, ignoring his tone. “It would be well if we carried silver sens for Her Grace to hand out. She is a child of the stars. The commonfolk will gather as she passes by, and cry for her blessing.”
“I already have,” Miche replied. “And we will not have much time to linger anywhere, but if you have orders you want sent ahead to the alchemists, I have a messenger leaving tomorrow.”
“You have been quite meticulous,” she admitted grudgingly, as if it pained her to approve him in any way.
“Well, I am not always a shame to my lord,” Miche drawled. “It will do Ophele no harm to have a few of those things so coveted by the dear ladies of the capital.”
“It should not surprise me that you know what those things might be,” she said tartly. Lady Mionet Verr never backed away from a fight. “One wonders why you must ever be a shame to your lord at all, when you go to such lengths to serve him.”
“Tragically, I have never been able to say no to a lady,” Miche replied, scribbling busily and wondering if there was a polite way to tell a woman to shut her mouth.
“I suppose it is a question of which lady you are willing to disappoint,” she observed.
“I am quite sure the duchess will be disappointed, when rumor of your activities reaches her ears. Though you know, I have often wondered if it is a compulsion, in some men. Does it occur to you in the moment that you are disgracing yourself and the lady, as well as your lord? So many of your dalliances were married.”
That was breathtakingly rude. The sort of remark that would get a man called out.
But there was no particular venom in her voice, and when Miche lifted his eyes to hers, she met him straight on, with a challenging flash that dared him to answer.
It made him want to tell her exactly what he had been doing.
His beauty had always been a weapon and a weakness, and he had used it as best he could to protect Remin.
But it was also true that he had failed as often as he had succeeded, and too often, he had said yes when he should have said no.
“I suppose I must be grateful that such rumors have not already reached her ears,” was all he said. He did not owe her any explanations. “Are you just waiting for an opportune moment?”
“If I thought she needed to know it, I would have told her already,” she said, unruffled.
“Whatever you might think, I am not seeking ways to wound her. His Grace ordered me to prepare her for the capital, and ensure that she suffers no scandal or undue anxiety while we are there. You are a scandal.”
“It would surprise him to know how his orders were being interpreted.” Miche had had enough.
He scribbled a final few notes and rose, a little impressed with her sheer effrontery.
“I will acquaint her with my scandals before we arrive in the capital,” he said, bending to offer her a smile that made the dimples flash in his cheeks. “When will you tell her about yours?”
* * *
“The Second Company is on its way.”
In the high, locked chamber of the Court of War, Remin moved the first of his markers onto the map at the center of the table, where his soldiers had begun their march to a new camp on the western moors.
“No scouts will observe them,” he added, with grim satisfaction at the sight of that vast, uninhabited stretch of map, white as winter snow.
“Auber, I will leave you most of the Third. You’ll have to work fast to finish the wall reinforcements against the devils, but if it comes to it, the docks can be cut off from the rest of the port, and each one can hold fifty men.
It’ll be a long night, but you’ll live.”
The upper chamber was cramped tonight, and warm with close-packed bodies.
In addition to the Knights of the Brede, Remin had expanded the circle to include a few of his other knights, as well as the commanders of the Third.
Every one of them had sworn their loyalty to him.
He sincerely believed that if the time came that they must choose between him or the Emperor, they would choose him.
But the time had come to test that belief.
“While Tounot and Jinmin are moving with the army, Auber will hold Tresingale,” Remin went on.
“Ortaire, you will remain to support him. Filipin, Rousse, Evgene, I rely on you to manage the Third. If you have doubts about any of your men, send them back to the border. Until the Empire actually marches on the Andelin, we will not require declarations from anyone.”
He met their eyes as he issued this order, to make sure it was understood. He did not doubt these commanders. He would not like to doubt any of his soldiers. But it would fall to the commanders of the outer companies to make sure the Emperor found no allies inside Tresingale.
“The men are already talking about it, my lord,” Rousse Voclait admitted.
He was a battle-scarred veteran of fifty, who had spent almost thirty of those years at war with Valleth.
“Not that they know any of this. But they don’t think the Divinity summoned you to the capital to welcome you to the family. ”
“No one’s said any treason,” added Evgene. “But if you ask me, Your Grace…they’re working themselves up to it.”
“Then tell them to mind their tongues,” Remin said sharply. “We don’t need spies overhearing such talk.”
“Though perhaps it ought not be squashed altogether, my lord,” suggested Juste. “Loyal men will say such things. Angry men must have a vent. There are many productive ways they might work off their frustrations.”
“Let them vent if they must, but give the Emperor no excuses to make trouble,” Remin replied.
The commanders of the Third exchanged glances and nodded.
“I can keep them busy,” Auber said mildly. “Between the devils and retaliation from the Empire, we need to prepare the commonfolk to either dig in or evacuate. At least the devils give us an excuse to drill them without realizing what they’re being prepared for.”
“Get them ready,” Remin agreed. “But if it comes to it, give them a choice. You’ll have warning, if things go badly. Anyone who wants to leave should be allowed to go in peace. If I die, make all efforts to bring the duchess back to the Andelin. If both of us die…”
This had been a difficult decision.
“Then Auber will inherit the valley.”
This was news to all of them. Juste’s face was empty, but Auber sat back in open-mouthed astonishment, and Miche caught Remin’s eye and nodded in approval. Tounot just looked from Auber to Remin, as if searching for some connection he had missed.
“Rem, why,” Auber managed. “I’m common-born, I’m not—”
“You will take care of my people,” Remin said firmly. “And you have no scores to settle. Tounot, Juste…it might be that there will be no vengeance. There may be no justice to be had. Ever. I choose Auber as my successor.”
“Heard and witnessed,” said Miche.
“Heard and witnessed,” echoed Filipin, Ortaire, and the rest. Remin had written this into the latest version of his will, with all proper ceremony and witnesses, but it was important for these men to hear it from him directly.
And at length, Auber and Tounot lowered their heads and said the words.
Juste only looked at Remin, cool and still.
“I will not agree,” he said softly. “For as long as I live, I will have vengeance. But I will swear, if you fall, that I will not risk your lands or your people in its pursuit. And if I live, I will acknowledge Auber as your successor.”
That was all Remin could ask. Juste had as much right as he did to pursue revenge, and Remin knew that a large part of himself that could die content if he knew that Juste would tear down the House of Agnephus, kill the Emperor, and ideally slay the Emperor’s family before a screaming mob.
That was justice. But he did not think it would make him as happy as knowing that Juste was alive somewhere, safe and happy, to die in his bed after a good, long life.
That was what he wanted for all of them.
They had so many plans to make. Contingencies upon contingencies.
If House Andelin went to war, then Auber and Huber would be the last of Remin’s knights left behind.
Tounot was charged with moving men and supplies downriver and then marching with Jinmin to the capital, a lightning strike that—if things went well—would be too fast and overwhelming for anyone to oppose.
The longer things dragged out, the worse it would be for all of them.
This was treason. A crime for which every man in the barracks could be executed, up to and including the pages. But it was a treason that had never been far from Remin’s heart.
The question was, who else might suffer for it.
Every day the snow melted a little more. Drifts that had brushed the eaves of the cottages now only reached the windowsills. And after the long and biting cold of winter, even a cool day felt almost balmy when Remin stole Ophele from Juste one afternoon for a ride around town.
“I can’t believe you still have them shoveling,” Ophele said in an undertone as they rode down Eugene Street on Lancer, seated together as they had been the day they arrived in Tresingale.
But she was far from the unhappy little waif she had been; dressed in a fawn-colored velvet gown with red and cream trim, she looked as soft and warm as a robin. She looked like a duchess.
His duchess.