Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAY
It’s better to make a mistake than to make nothing.
—Raider’s Ban proverb
17th Day of Winter’s Wife Moon,
Age of the Locways, Year 271
La’Angi Keep
The pleasant smile on Kaelson’s face made me recall the sound of the cavalry horn. Charge. My hands itched for Bliksem’s reins and I could feel the reverberations of the lance up my arm. I tried to smile back, but it probably looked more like a grimace.
“Here now, friend,” Kaelson said, his hand closing over my shoulder in a grip that was fractionally too firm to be friendly. “Let’s have us a drink.”
I’d expected something sooner, after he and Thomas had seen me holding Audrey. Whether or not her skirts had still been where they ought to be didn’t matter. There’d be no saying we weren’t close, not after they’d seen me holding her so tightly while she sheltered against me.
And Thomas knew. That shouldn’t matter. He was incapable of doing her harm.
Just like me.
Kaelson steered me into the mirrored version of my bunkroom in the defensive entryway to Audrey’s tower. Thomas dropped the bar over the door behind us. They’d got an oil lamp and wiped the dust off the table. I spotted jugs to the side, and dice that were probably honest, if I knew Thomas.
I let Kaelson steer me into a seat. I’d been in the sunshine all day and even got to stop off at the bathhouse on the way back.
They’d caught me in a good mood. So,I waited while they closed this door too,so we were all snug and warm.
I waited some more while they poured the tart liquor and settled into seats at the table, acting like this was all nice and fun and friendly.
They weren’t going to make it easy, but that was fine. She was curled up, working on her cider problem. I wondered how she’d feel about us enjoying the supply.
I could almost hear her voice in my head. There’s an allowance for our use, of course. I already calculated it. She hadn’t calculated that I wouldn’t be reining her in, though. I’d liked the way she’d looked up at me when we discussed whether it’d just be she and I, or others, too.
I felt like I’d given her keys to turn locks in places she didn’t even realize were doors.
“To the lady,” Thomas said, raising his cup.
“By the Son, that woman deserves a toast,” Kaelson said, raising his cup.
It was a smart toast—one I wouldn’t refuse. I lifted my cup, but I didn’t drink.
“It’s to her health, lad,” Kaelson said, giving me a nudge.
“It wouldn’t be for mine,” I sent back, setting the cup down. “You can say what you need to say without me having a skin full.”
“Told you,” Thomas muttered, and drank again.
Kaelson sighed, leaning forwards. “We aren’t really schemers, Tom and I. We don’t think that way. Honest as the day is long.”
“I know.” I looked at them, so damned worried. “I know. I know it’s risky, and I know it’s dangerous. If it helps at all, it started when I was sure we were both dead.”
“I figured,” Kaelson said, sadly. “You’re a good man, Chay, and she’s a damned good woman. But she can’t be your woman.”
A small part of me, the part of me that’d worn other boys’ shoes until my feet grew too big, the part of me that’d waited around for scraps of affection, resented the shit out of that.
It would be too easy to believe.
“She’s her own person,” I said, keeping my voice relaxed.
“She is, that,” Kaelson agreed, heartily. “And she’s the Duke’s daughter.”
Irritation crawled under my skin. “I don’t want the two of you to waste your time here,” I said on a shrug.
“So I’ll be as honest as you. She and I have talked about it.
She knows the risks. I’ll do all I can to minimize them, but if you’re hoping to chase me off, I don’t scare easy.
I’m not running from the Butcher. Now, I do plan to be smarter.
” I nodded to Thomas, because I knew it was important to him.
“We’ve been lax. We aren’t used to sneaking about, either.
As far as scary stories and warnings, though, you can put it aside. I understand.”
“I don’t think you do,” Thomas said, the words a monotone. “I don’t think she does.”
I looked down into the liquid in my cup. I’d hoped to avoid the veteran re-traumatizing himself to try to terrify me into subservience, but this wasn’t going well.
I pulled out what I had. “My great-grandfather was Charles the Shieldbreaker, First General of Barloc,” I told them both, honestly.
“He ran his family like an army camp, I hear. His children were despots. My father was a madman.” It wasn’t true.
He’d just been a man. He’d had friends, people who thought he was excellent company, plenty of folks who’d vouch for him.
But it was easier to progress the story. “I really do know.”
“Your count, did he ever tell you what happened with he and Arabella?” Kaelson asked me. “They were to be wed. She rode his horses.”
The mention of Darrius caught my attention. I hesitated, not wanting to feed into the situation, but curious. “He didn’t. I do know what happened to Arabella, though. I’m aware the Duke killed her.”
I thought they’d withdraw at that much honesty. No one spoke of Arabella. I’d heard her name once my entire time in La’Angi, from the Duke’s own mouth, when he’d been threatening us.
But neither of them batted a lash.
It was then I realized how deep we were going tonight.
“What about his brother?” Kaelson asked quietly. “Does Count Darrius mention him?”
“Darrius doesn’t have a brother.” He’d been married once, had one child, and lived a happy life surrounded by the family he’d built for himself from dear friends. He said it was all he’d ever wanted and more.
“He did,” Kaelson said. “Caydan was a few years younger than him, wasn’t he, Tom?”
“Believe so,” Tom said, in that monotone. “Twice the archer, they said, but half the rider.”
“Figured that was a euphemism myself,” Kaelson put in, and topped off Thomas’ drink. He hadn’t touched his.
I would’ve heard if Darrius had a brother, especially if he’d been lost to the Duke. It’d be easy to check. Old, official records would be kept in the depths of the library. Audrey would be able to put her hands on it easily.
“The Count and the Lady Arabella, they got on very well. Very well. They’d go riding for days on end.
He spent as much time here as he spent there.
His younger brother, he often stayed. He was helping with the horses Darrius had left with Arabella, caring for them while Darrius was in ’Ban, doing the things a fancy heir has to do. ”
The thought of Darrius giving Raider’s Ban horseflesh to the La’Angi stables was an alien one. If Bliksem hadn’t been a gelding, I’d never have kept him.
“The Butcher decided he wanted Arabella and got rid of the competitors,” I offered, hoping it might save them the horror of this drawn-out story.
I didn’t need details. “I know. I’m sorry, Kaelson.
” In the flickering torchlight, in the close quarters, I could almost feel the way their bodies tensed at my dismissal.
“I’m sorry,” I offered, gently. “I am. It’s history. ”
“Wolfswail is history,” Thomas said, softly. “And yet they’re back there.”
“Not us, though.” Kaelson’s gaze swung to Thomas, his expression worried. “We got smart, Tom.”
“Most kids your age,” Tom told me, lifting his cup in my direction, “you grow up here, you know you keep your nose clean and your trap shut.”
“He didn’t grow up here,” Kaelson said patiently. “We gotta explain it. Walk him through it, like.”
Before I could tell them just how much I knew, down to the physical responses the woman I was sworn to protect had just to the memories of that man, Thomas leant forward.
“Lady Arabella, she was smart. Everyone said so. She knew when things were coming. She could predict things. Always six steps ahead, she was. She sent Darrius off with her prize horse. Refused to have that damned horse here.” And mayhap it was the hitch in his voice, or that I could so easily imagine Audrey sending Storm off with Isolde, but I felt a knot tighten in my guts.
“Cayden stayed to help the mare with foal,” Kaelson said, his voice low and respectful. “The Duke wanted to train the foal, but Cayden didn’t appreciate his interference. The lady didn’t speak up, of course. If she had, it would’ve been even worse.”
I waited for the rest. But that was it. That was all that was said on the topic. They both lifted their cups grimly.
A man I’d never ever heard of, a mare and a foal. I shook my head. I knew he was a heartless bastard. Were I genuinely thinking about the Duke of La’Angi, I wouldn’t do monsters the disservice of lumping them in with the likes of him, nor provide him with the excuse for his deeds.
He was no monster.
He made choices every day. Sometimes he chose mercy. Often, he chose to abide by social rules.
Sometimes he committed atrocities.
“The lady, she was smart,” Kaelson said, and there was grief in his voice now. “She was quiet when he was around, never spoke out. She was the picture of the wife he wanted. She tried different things to help people. The city gardens she wanted to plant. Remember that?”
“I don’t,” Thomas said, frowning. “When’d she do that?”
“Right before the wedding,” Kaelson said, with a nod. He took a pull of the cider and let out a noise somewhere between relief and surrender as he swallowed it. “She never got out of the keep. Couldn’t be so far. Wasn’t seemly.”
“I wasn’t stationed close,” Thomas said, with a shrug.
“And the mid-winter dance?” Kaelson asked him. “You’d remember the winter festival.”
“I remember the winter festival,” Tom agreed, and dropped his eyes.