Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Thom arrived mid-morning, his horse dusty from the road, looking puzzled. Her letters had told him it was important, but she hadn’t elaborated.
Verna was waiting for him in the courtyard after she’d spent the early part of the morning writing three letters to the council and one to Fatima.
Then she’d slowly walked around the estate in the winter light, committing to memory the vineyards and the olive groves, the bathhouse on the lower terrace and the garden with its worn statues of old gods.
He dismounted and when he caught the bruise on her cheek that was still visible despite Dara's best efforts with a cold cloth that morning, and he scowled. "Your letter said urgent," he said. "It didn't say you'd been hit, Verna."
"It's a long story, Thom. Come inside."
She took him into the study where she had told Kalen about the Trials a lifetime ago, across the same desk with the sea visible through the window.
She explained to him about Merle, who collared her in the old hut, which produced a harsh swearword from him.
Lastly, she told him about the evil that was coming with dark witches, and that the three years of fighting on the eastern edge of the empire had weakened the barrier between them and the enemy.
She told him about the ring and what she was: A Wending Witch. He listened to it without interrupting and without the expression of disbelief that she had half expected.
When she finished, he sat there quietly and finally said, "I'm not surprised."
She blinked at him. "You're not?"
"I watched you stop a war bear with your bare hand," he said. "And I felt something that night in the throne room when you were standing at the dais and the wind sprang up out of nowhere in a closed room. I’ve known you your whole life, Verna, and I’ve sensed you’ve always been more than what you appeared to be. I simply didn't have a name for it."
She felt the warmth of their long friendship; he accepted what she’d told him unequivocally.
"I have to go with Kalen and her people to the eastern border. I don't know how long."
He frowned, "Don't go."
"Thom."
"I mean it," he said, his voice not steady anymore. " You can’t just leave your estate, and the women in it. They need you."
"I'm not leaving because I want to," she said a little bitterly.
"I'm going to make sure there is still a world left for us to live in.
This ring," she held it up to the light, "is what I am for. I didn’t pick it; the same way you didn’t choose to be the kind of man who works his own land alongside his workers. You simply are, and this is what I am."
He let out a slow breath. "How long will you be away?"
"I don't know. Long enough to do what needs to be done, I suppose."
"And Kalen goes with you."
"Yes."
He nodded. He hadn’t asked about Kalen and her since the arena, had not pressed or implied or raised an eyebrow, and she had always appreciated this about him. He asked now. "She matters to you?"
"Yes," Verna replied simply. "She does."
He flinched. Then something settled in his face as though he finally accepted she was never going to choose him. "Then I'm glad you have her with you."
"I’m sorry, Thom, for not choosing you. But the heart wants what the heart wants.
" She reached into the desk drawer and produced the letters.
"Now, I need you to take these to the council and to Fatima when you return to Castine.
The council letter asks them to hold a portion of the eastern border soldiers in place, not as a campaign force but as a boundary guard.
Volunteers only, under proper command, troops that are prepared to work alongside the people they previously tried to subjugate. "
She slid them across the desk. "Fatima will understand. Carlton will argue about the cost and then agree. Thom, tell him I said the cost of not doing it is considerably higher. I will put in my share."
Thom picked up the letters and leafed through them. "I'll tell him."
"Would you look in on the estate, Thom, when you can? Patrice will run the outside workers and Dara the house. They’ll manage, but I’d be happier knowing you’ll check on them occasionally."
"I'll come every two weeks," he said. "Without being asked."
She looked at him fondly, this man she had known since childhood, who had offered her kindness even though she had refused his suit.
"Thank you," she said. "For everything."
When they stood up to go, he put his arms around her and held her tightly. "Look after yourself," he murmured.
She pressed her face briefly against his shoulder. "I will, old friend."
Then he stepped away, picked up the letters and disappeared out the door.
She watched the door long after he’d gone, then sighed and made her way to the courtyard to address her people.
They had gathered together: the field women, kitchen staff, the press house workers, the women from the east wing, and her soldiers.
Patrice had her arms folded and her chin up, while Dara stood at the bottom of the stairs, her hands clasped together and her eyes apprehensive as though she knew something important was going to happen.
Verna stood on the portico steps and watched them, this collection of women she had found in the worst place in Castine and brought here to safety. Some of them had been with her for years, and they were all looking at her now to hear what she had to say.
She told them as plainly as she could. That there was a threat coming from the east that she was uniquely positioned to help stop it. That she was going with Kalen and her people to do what needed to be done. And she didn’t know how long she would be gone.
She told them that Patrice and Dara would manage the estate in her absence. She said that Lord Thom would visit regularly and could be called upon if anything required a house head's authority in her absence.
She assured them that nothing would change, that the estate was theirs as it had always been.
And then she said that they were the reason she was going. Not the only reason, but the most important one, because the Empire was facing an enemy from beyond its borders.
When she finished, nobody spoke for a moment.
Then Patrice said, from the middle of the group, "Come back."
It was two words and it was everything.
"I intend to," Verna said.
They left at dawn the next day.
Kalen, Merle and the three younger women were mounted and ready. Xania was on a steady mare, with a travelling pack behind her and Dulcie at her horse's shoulder. They had a suppressed excitement about them. They were going home. Xania had asked Verna the night before if she could come with Dulcie.
Verna had smiled and said, "Of course you can. I was hoping you would."
Xania had nodded and run off to pack.
Now Verna stood at the back gate in her travelling clothes, her good winter cloak and her sturdy boots, and the gold ring on her finger. Her six Abrensian guards had insisted they go with her and were waiting by her mare.
She climbed into the saddle and gazed around at the estate one more time.
The terraces in their winter stillness, the bare vine rows, the long red-roofed house catching the afternoon light.
The three moons already faint in the pale sky above the sea, Lira barely visible, Senne a thin ghost, Orath not yet risen.
Dara was at the gate. Her lip trembled as she said goodbye to Verna.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Verna quipped.
"You have left me very little in that category," Dara said, "given what you've been up to."
Verna laughed, a real laugh, and Dara's face did the thing it did when she was trying not to smile and losing. She took Dara's hands in hers and said nothing more, because some things didn't need to be said between people who had known each other for so long.
Then she let go and grasped the reins.
"Ready?" Kalen said.
Verna dug her foot into Sera’s side and the mare stepped forward. "Let’s go," she called out.
Kalen's face broke into a rare unguarded smile, the one that changed her face entirely. "To the border," she said.
The whispering trees caught the wind as they passed beneath them and Verna could swear they were singing.
They rode through the gate, a small company, out to the main road then turned east. Behind them, Dulcie padded happily alongside Xania's horse.
Verna didn’t look back.
She had found, over the course of this remarkable year, that looking forward was considerably more interesting. She flashed a smile at Kalen who had settled into an easy rhythm beside her.
The ring on her finger glowed as the road opened up before them.
End of Book One