Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAY
I was right to withdraw. No one’s seen Rubes since he walked in there.
There’s something about the Academy. It’s like where hope goes to die.
They’re up to something and I know you need to know what it is, but I’m not the man for it.
Send me somewhere I won’t get myself killed? —S to Man in the Mountain
La’Angi Keep
Head Steward Daniel was smaller than Kaelson. Not just physically, though that was true. He was less. He stood in front of the duly elected Captain of the Guard as Kaelson dripped water from the spring downpour across the worn rug in the hall we’d emptied.
Last I’d seen him, he’d been assuring us everything would be fine. Then he’d taken as much food as he could, a group of men, and left us to die of plague.
“This is a disgrace,” he spat, finger drilling into Kaelson’s chest.
“What’s a disgrace?” my lady asked, sweeping in through the doors to my side.
The entrance should’ve been dramatic, but with the four leather-bound volumes under her arm and the roll of parchment in her hand, it had a unique Audrey energy that I’d never call simply dramatic.
Intimidating? Awe inspiring? I watched her, searching for words, aching.
“You,” he said to her. As he whirled, his fur lined cloak lifted to swirl dramatically around his calves.
He said it as you’d acknowledge an interruption, not as an accusation, but I still felt the blow for her.
The way her eyelids would flicker, sometimes, when she didn’t know we saw. When she made a mistake. Something small and normal. In my head, it wasn’t the steward’s voice, nor the Butcher’s, but my own father’s booming tone. The rage drummed through my veins like hooves over well-maintained roads.
I saw Isolde’s eyes narrow and lifted my shield.
Before I could say anything that would’ve only inflamed the situation, Audrey waved the parchment at him.
“I’ll defer to your more experienced knowledge, Head Steward, on what constitutes disgrace,” she said, without a shred of malice in the words.
“Captain Kaelson, the remainder of the council is on the way, I assume?”
“They are, my lady.”
“The council?” the Steward spat. “Who are you to devise a council?”
“I’m the only surviving nobility in these parts,” my lady said, sliding into her usual spot in the middle of the rectangular table. “I can have a family tree fetched for you, Master Steward, if your memory would benefit.”
The rage in me made me ache to act. Instead, I enjoyed the satisfaction from her well-placed barbs.
“Your father—”
“Have you heard from him?” she cut in, opening a book.
“What a coincidence! I did too.” The smile she sent Kaelson seemed genuine, but my angle wasn’t wonderful for admiring the way it’d light up her eyes.
“We’ll wait for everyone to be present, for efficiency.
” Idly, she picked up the roll of parchment. “How’s Billy, Kaelson?”
“Recovering well, my lady. I’ll pass on your best.” He went over to the fireplace, shrugging off his cloak. “I was caught in the streets earlier. My apologies.”
“Pass them on, too,” Audrey said, with a wave of her hand.
“I will not have this,” the steward said, flatly. “You were supposed to stay in your tower, my lady. You would’ve been safe.”
“Mm,” she said, looking as if she’d just settled in to read.
Isolde slipped away to where the remains from lunch were left for anyone too hungry to wait for dinner. I didn’t watch her prepare a plate, knowing who it’d be for. Audrey had been in her tower all day. The Captain of the Siren’s Ally had arrived not long after I’d left another training session.
If I’d known the Captain would be coming, I probably couldn’t have settled into my role as Audrey’s mentor as comfortably as I had.
I hadn’t seen Audrey since. Isolde, on the other hand, had been out all day. It was because of her I’d known the Head Steward had returned, so I’d come down to help maintain the peace.
Though it felt like I’d been gone an eon, it hadn’t really been much more than a moon. And yet somehow, I’d found myself back in the same pattern as we’d held during the plague. My lady working quietly, looking over scrolls and tomes, scratching out notes, never glancing my way.
Except now I knew the alternative.
And the cost.
I shouldn’t be training her. I shouldn’t be, and I knew it. But it made her feel like she could control something. And mayhap it’d be important, one day.
Except she couldn’t manage the monster. No one could.
I’d be her champion until my heart no longer beat. If my oath ended too soon, she wouldn’t be without protection. If the noises I’d heard were any indication, the Captain would ensure she had joy, too. It was all I could do.
The door beside me started to open, stopped, the started again. Holding my grief close, I reached over, grabbing hold of the door so it didn’t swing back on the wizened form of Ettie. She looked at me, nodded in approval, and pottered in, the noise of her walking sticks muffled by the fresh straw.
Everyone was happier with me, nowadays.
I swallowed around the sudden tears in my throat, pulling my thoughts back to the present. Not now, Chay.
“Why’re we in here?” Ettie asked, with a disdainful sniff. “There’s hungry men about to come off duty.”
“Steward Daniel didn’t want to relocate,” my lady said, looking up. “Should we set up the kitchens? They could handle the few who—”
“I said hungry, not starving,” Ettie said, impatiently. “Steward Daniel, you say?” she peered at the Head Steward. “Aren’t you dead?”
Color rose in the steward’s cheeks. Before I could begin to enjoy his discomfort, the door opened again. “I’ve got it,” I heard Brian saying.
“You’re a good boy,” Bernadette was saying. “I hope Friel doesn’t ruin that custard. It was looking so good.”
“Even a lumpy custard will be gratefully received,” Brian said, heartily.
I settled in front of the door as while they took their seats as if Daniel wasn’t there.
Audrey accepted the plate of food Isolde passed her, sharing it among the table. Brian took some, as did Ettie. “Thanking you all for gathering at such short notice,” Audrey said. “And thanking Kaelson for arranging the meeting.”
Kaelson, still dripping to the side, waved a hand in dismissal of her thanks. But it was relevant. In the past, they’d asked her individually whether a topic should be discussed by the council. It was the first meeting called by anyone except her.
I knew she wanted them to call meetings, not her, because I’d heard her telling them.
I’d heard her talking it over with Isolde, how she could disrupt the old patterns of deference and help them understand that they were equal.
I’d heard her running through possible conversations as she practiced combat stances, trained her grips, exercised her core and stretched out her shoulders.
That was only in the moon since I’d returned.
She hadn’t said anything to me, though. I didn’t get to advise. Not anymore.
I didn’t really have anything to offer anyway. Not on this topic. Not that Isolde had, either, but she’d been addressed, at least.
“Obviously, Steward Daniel has returned.” She offered the loaded plate to the steward who was yet to sit at the table.
The angle of her body, her arm and the drape of her cloak clearly silhouetted her.
I refused to let my eyes dip down to the soft curve of her breast. Still, I couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t wearing her mastodesmos.
“Brian and Bernadette, between the two of you, can we find how we can best use the steward and his men? Kaelson, I assume the guards he returned with—”
“I have a role entrusted to me by the Duke, and those guards are my men,” the Steward snarled.
Audrey took a cheddar-and-herb studded piece of bread for herself, setting down the plate. I watched her hands, hoping some of the food might make it into her belly. Too often it was destroyed by her fingers and forgotten on her plate.
“I sent the guards to rest for the afternoon,” Kaelson said, with a nod. “And to report at sunrise to me. I’ll have their shifts ready. They’re a welcome sight and that’s true.”
“How many’ve you got?” Bernadette asked him. Audrey leant back from the books before her and popped some bread in her mouth.
“Twelve, mistress,” Kaelson said, hands held crisply behind his back. “A good addition.”
“And the others?” Bernadette asked. “So I can feed ’em all.”
“Your schemes are so far from the locways you’ll never be forgiven. You’re all mad,” the Steward said, on a half-laugh. “Mad.”
“All the mages who might’ve been able to validate that claim are dead,” my lady said, unconcerned. “If it’s agreeable with everyone, I’ve also a letter from the Duke I suspect everyone—but especially steward Daniel—will be interested to hear.”
The tension those words brought to the table was palpable. The only person who seemed unconcerned was Brian, who held up the small, hand-sized bitten piece of bread and made an approving circle between his finger and thumb for Bernadette.
“While I’ll happily read it out,” she said, “the key points are that he’s sending back men to bolster our watch and predicts they’ll arrive early in the summer, that he’s giving his blessing for the tourney to have an associated faire, and that he’s wants me to encourage knights to enlist in the war effort. ”
Anticipation coiled in my belly at the thought of listening to her develop that speech. I had no doubt she’d turn it into a finely honed weapon of dissent.
“He’s formally recognizing Kaelson’s position,” she continud. “Ettie as housekeeper, and mine as Head Steward of La’Angi. Bernadette, your position remains unchanged. Brian…”
Before Brian could respond, Daniel rounded on her. “He clearly thinks me lost to the plague,” he said, color high.
Audrey shrugged. “I explained what happened to him, master. Mayhap he thinks you dead. Mayhap he thinks you deserted. Mayhap he thinks you unworthy of the title.” The words were delivered with little inflection, and I saw each strike go home, his eyes widening.
“I don’t pretend to know the workings of the Duke’s mind. I’m simply recounting the information.”
“Let me see that,” he demanded.
Audrey offered the roll of parchment. My muscles tensed as he strode over. While destroying that document could hurt her in the short term, in the long term—
He tore it out of her hands. I stepped forward.
“This isn’t his official seal,” the steward crowed gleefully, then ripped it in half and threw it at her.
Fury beat in my chest. I didn’t let myself move. If I had—
Around the table, the council watched Audrey.
Brian kept on chewing, and so did she, moving the pieces aside delicately and waiting until her mouth was empty before she said, without looking, “Of course it isn’t the official seal.
Inker Allision has made copies to distribute. The official note is stored safely.”
“The Duke has no idea what you’ve done,” he said, the words vibrating with rage. “He might’ve said he approves, but he only approves due to the limited information you’ve given him. When he hears what you’ve done to the upstanding families of our city—filling our coffers with their hard-won gold—”
“He told me to hold the city,” she said, pinning him with her eyes. “He asked only for a list of executions and the crimes attributed to the people.”
I felt the weight she was carrying for a moment. With the rage in my veins, it was easy to shoulder, but that rage would fade.
She was left carrying this, alone.
“Kaelson,” she said, without dropping Daniel’s gaze. “Desertion during a crisis is a crime we punish with death in La’Angi, is it not?”
“Desertion is always punished by death, my lady,” he said, without infliction.
“Thanking you for the confirmation.” She turned back to her bread. “See Steward Daniel out, Sir Chay. I’ll meet with him on the morrow, after he’s rested from his unplanned journey.”
I imagined the man fighting back, struggling, arguing. He did none of those things, storming out furiously before I could have the pleasure of laying a hand on him.
Silence descended in his wake, broken by the crackle of the fire and the sound of a few people enjoying a bite to eat.
After chewing thoughtfully for a moment, Brian said, “I’m guessing we don’t get our wheat back.”
“The wheat was a deserter, so they turned it into dessert,” Bernadette muttered. Brian grinned.
Kaelson didn’t. “By tomorrow, he’ll have a dozen birds in the air,” he told Audrey. “If you want to kill him, do it now.”
“I can’t,” she said. “My father told me to state he was doing reconnaissance. He’s being given a second chance. If he hadn’t lost his temper, he’d’ve seen I can’t touch him.”
My belly sank. If only he’d lost his temper in a more serious fashion, I could’ve ended the problem then and there. Justifiable execution.
“He’ll undermine everything we’re doing,” Brian said, no trace of mirth on his face. “He’s a bigger threat than any other, my lady.”
“I’m aware of that.” She shoved the two pieces of ripped parchment toward him. “We have him scared for now. It’s the best I could do. Meanwhile, we need to get his people away from him. He’ll do less harm as a lone operative than as the head of a group. And I’ll figure out what to do with him.”
With the loss of the fury, I felt the weight of that statement for her. No matter how I braced, the strain made me want to stoop.