Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Legion, Torden, Creagan & the Queen
Creagan had been waiting nearly an hour for his turn to speak with the queen. He wasn't particularly bothered by it. However—
“We could simply tell the guard we're here to see her,” Torden said, moving impatiently from foot to foot.
“And miss all this?” Creagan asked with a teasing grin.
Legion stood on Creagan's other side, arms folded across his chest as he watched two farmers arguing before the queen. “He has a point.”
Torden glared at him.
Legion shrugged. “It's entertaining.”
The three of them stood among those waiting along one side of the Great Hall, attracting an occasional curious glance but little more. That suited Creagan. He'd already learned a great deal simply by listening to the people around him while they waited.
He'd also had ample opportunity to study the woman they'd come to see… Queen Eudora.
She sat straight and tall in the carved chair upon the raised dais, her dark hair intricately braided and secured at the back of her head, the front drawn smoothly away from her face.
The severe arrangement left nothing to soften the regal features or the unusual violet eyes presently fixed on the two men standing before her.
Creagan had seen beautiful women before, but the queen was something altogether different.
Her purple gown was elegant without being overly adorned, and everything from the tilt of her chin to the way she held herself seemed intended to remind anyone approaching that this was her hall, her kingdom, and her word that mattered.
She probably intimidated most men, but he wasn’t most men. He found himself wondering how long her dark hair was when she let those braids loose and if anything else loosened within her when she did.
“Your sheep were in his field, Griffin?” Eudora said.
“They wandered there, Your Majesty,” he insisted.
Her brow went up. “For the third time?”
Griffin had a quick excuse. “They favor Milo’s grass.”
Milo snorted. “Your sheep don't know one patch of grass from another.”
“Then they're smarter than you,” Griffin shot back.
Laughter broke out among those waiting.
Creagan chuckled as well.
Torden glanced at him. “You really are enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
“Enough!” The queen’s sharp voice silenced the laughter.
Both farmers immediately turned their attention to her.
Creagan's amusement faded slightly.
“You will repair the fence between your properties,” Eudora ordered.
“My fence is sound,” Griffin protested.
Eudora's violet eyes settled on him. “Then your sheep have learned to fly.”
Creagan laughed again, earning a look from Torden and, this time, one from the queen, though only briefly. But enough time for her to catch his smile.
Her eyes moved on as if dismissing him.
“Together,” Eudora continued, looking between the two farmers. “You will repair the fence together.”
She turned to Milo. “And you will stop encouraging his sheep into your field.”
Milo’s mouth dropped open. “I never—”
“You've been putting salt near the boundary,” the queen accused.
“How did you know?” Milo asked.
“The same way I know your fence has been in need of repair since spring. You've both been complaining about one another to anyone willing to listen for months.”
The two men exchanged sheepish looks.
“You will get the fence repaired together,” Eudora continued. “And if one of those sheep finds its way into the wrong field again, I will have the entire flock brought here to the castle grounds and you can both explain to my cook why they should not become supper.”
“Aye, Your Majesty,” the two men were quick to say and hurried off.
Creagan had expected Eudora to be formidable. Queen Eleanor would never have entrusted Morra Mist to a granddaughter incapable of ruling it. However, he hadn't expected to find her entertaining.
A man standing a short distance from the queen stepped forward and consulted the parchment in his hand.
Creagan rarely came to Dunsire, but he knew who he was even though he had never met him. Wilford, the queen’s advisor.
Wilford looked toward those still waiting.
“Next.”
An elderly woman immediately marched forward dragging a lad, of perhaps twelve years, alongside her by the ear.
Creagan folded his arms across his chest. This promised to be even better than the sheep.
“Let go of the Ewan’s ear, Maggie,” Eudora ordered.
Creagan could not help but be impressed.
The queen had known the name of every person who had stood before her.
Not merely the chieftains, merchants and men whose names were likely brought before her regularly.
She knew her people. Right down to an elderly woman who came before her dragging a troublesome lad by the ear.
Maggie released the lad, though reluctantly. “He deserves worse, Your Majesty.”
“I don't doubt you've already told him so.”
Maggie nodded. “Repeatedly.”
Ewan rubbed his reddened ear but did not speak.
“What have you done this time, Ewan?” Eudora asked.
Ewan shifted from one foot to the other. “I borrowed Grandmum's cart.”
“You stole my cart,” Maggie corrected.
Ewan defended himself. “I borrowed it. Borrowing is not stealing.”
“You did not ask permission. You had it all day and didn’t bring it back until after dark,” Maggie argued.
“I needed it and I knew you wouldn’t let me borrow it,” Ewan said as if it made all the difference.
“You took the mule as well and he was needed for field work.”
Ewan turned wide eyes on her. “What good is a cart without a mule?”
Creagan heard Legion choke back a laugh.
Even Torden's impatience appeared to have deserted him.
Eudora's lips pressed together briefly. “Where did you take the cart, Ewan?”
“To fetch someone.”
“Who?” Eudora asked when the lad didn’t volunteer the name.
Ewan hesitated.
Maggie planted her hands on her hips. “You might as well tell the queen. Her Majesty will get it out of you one way or another.”
That frightened Ewan enough to quickly confess, “Jamie.”
“Why did Jamie require you to steal your grandmother's cart?” Eudora asked.
Ewan hurried to remind her of his innocence. “I didn't steal—”
Eudora raised one eyebrow.
Ewan reconsidered. “He has a broken leg and couldn’t walk.”
Maggie stared at her grandson. “Why?”
Ewan looked at her as if she were daft. “Well, I certainly couldn't carry him.”
The hall erupted in laughter.
“That was not what I meant!” Maggie snapped.
Creagan glanced toward Eudora. For the briefest moment amusement showed in those violet eyes, though she fought hard to keep it from reaching her lips. He liked that. Perhaps there was more beneath that regal exterior than she'd have anyone believe.
Eudora stilled the laughter with a raise of her hand. “Why did Jamie need to be fetched?”
“He's supposed to begin apprenticing with the blacksmith here in Dunsire, but his father wouldn't let him come here.”
“Why not?” Eudora asked.
Ewan hesitated, casting his eyes at his boots.
Seeing his reluctance, Eudora commanded firmly, “You will answer me, Ewan.”
Ewan lifted his head and looked at her hesitantly said, “His da says he won't have his son serving anyone in Dunsire until it's proven you have the right to be queen.”
Amusement vanished from the hall.
Creagan straightened. Beside him, Legion's arms slowly unfolded and Torden went still.
Eudora gave no outward reaction. “Where is Jamie now?”
“With Boyd, the blacksmith. I gave Jamie my word to get him here and I kept it,” Ewan said proudly.
Creagan had to admit the lad had courage and considerably more nerve than sense.
“You may have made a promise to your friend Jamie, but it was Jamie’s duty to obey his father. Just as it was your duty not to take anything of your grandmother’s without permission,” Eudora said.
Ewan looked about to defend himself again, but then his gaze dropped. “Aye, Your Majesty.”
“You will spend the next month doing whatever work your grandmother gives you without argument.”
Ewan grimaced.
“Make that two months.”
His eyes widened and he went to speak.
Eudora spoke first. “Would you prefer cleaning out the castle waste?”
Ewan looked horrified. “Nay. Nay, Your Majesty. I will do as you say.”
Maggie smiled triumphantly.
Eudora turned her attention to her. “Maggie, the next time Ewan does something foolish, bring the matter to me without dragging him halfway through Dunsire by his ear.”
Pleased with the outcome, Maggie saw no reason to disagree. “Aye, Your Majesty.”
Maggie bowed, grabbed Ewan firmly by the arm and marched him away.
Creagan watched Eudora. The queen knew the names of farmers and troublesome lads. She listened before passing judgment. And when a simple dispute unexpectedly brought the growing unrest directly before her, she'd betrayed nothing of what she thought or felt.
Queen Eleanor had taught her granddaughter well.
Wilford glanced down at the parchment in his hand and called out, “Last to be heard, Creagan.”
Torden and Legion looked at him.
Creagan grinned. “They saved the best for last.”
He pushed away from the wall and started toward the queen alone.
Creagan stopped before the queen and bowed his head respectfully.
Eudora studied him. “You have a complaint?”
“More of a problem, Your Majesty.”
“Which is?”
He took a breath and said seriously, “I' have lost my woman.”
Eudora stared at him.
Creagan didn’t have to look to know it was Legion who coughed behind him. It was a habit of his when he tried not to laugh.
“Your woman,” Eudora repeated, not quite sure how that would relate to a complaint.
“Aye,” he said, keeping his tone serious.
Eudora was skeptical of the unfamiliar man, though it was impossible to know everyone in Morra Mist. But she did her best when called upon for help. So, she remained as serious as he was.
“Was she taken from you?” Eudora asked.
Creagan shook his head. “Nay.”
“Did she wander off?”
He scratched his chin. “Not exactly.”
Eudora's brow rose. “Did she leave you?”
Creagan grinned. “Never that.”
Exasperated but not showing it, Eudora asked, “Then how did you lose her?”
Creagan’s grin grew. “I haven't found her yet.”
Silence followed.
Eudora stared, uncertain if she'd heard him correctly. “You have lost a woman you have yet to find?”
Creagan turned serious once again. “That is the problem.”
Laughter broke out in the hall.
Creagan didn't bother looking behind him. He could well imagine Legion's amusement and Torden's expression.
Eudora raised her hand and the laughter quickly faded. “And you believe this is a matter requiring the attention of your queen?”
“I was hoping you might be able to help.”
“With finding you a woman?”
“A particular woman,” he corrected.
“Of course.”
Creagan caught the impatience in her voice and grinned.
Eudora noticed.
Those violet eyes of hers narrowed ever so slightly and he could tell she grew impatient.
“What makes this woman so particular?” she asked.
“I'll know that when I find her.”
Eudora wondered what the man before her truly wanted from her. “That is not particularly helpful.”
“It hasn't been particularly helpful to me either.”
Another ripple of laughter traveled through the hall.
Eudora leaned back in her chair. “Let me make certain I understand your dilemma. You have come before me asking that I find you a particular woman who is unknown to you.”
Creagan smiled. “That about sums it up.”
“Why should I waste my time doing this when your fine features tell me you have no problem finding a woman?” she asked, again wondering what he was up to.
That she noticed his fine features told Creagan that she not only missed little but the female in her paid attention.
His smile faded, though only slightly. “Because I made a promise.”
Something in his tone must have caught her attention, for Eudora's expression changed.
“A promise to whom?”
Creagan held her gaze. “I cannot say since I gave my word, Your Majesty. And once given, I am by promise bound.”
Eudora went perfectly still.
Creagan saw the recognition in her eyes before she could hide it.
By debt unbroken, by promise bound.
To everyone else in the hall they were simply words, not so to Eudora. Her gaze remained on him for several heartbeats before shifting past him.
Creagan didn't need to turn to know where she looked.
Legion and Torden stood together at the side of the hall.
Her violet eyes returned to him. “You came to Dunsire with friends?”
“Aye, Your Majesty.”
“The two warriors standing together at the back of the hall?”
“Aye,” he confirmed, noting she referred to Legion and Torden as warriors.
Eudora looked at them again and raised her hand pointing from one to the other. “The two of you, come forward.”
Wilford stepped closer. “Your Majesty?”
Eudora ignored him.
The two men made their way forward, stopping alongside Creagan. Neither spoke.
Eudora studied them. She hadn’t known what to expect from the three lords she had summoned, but it certainly wasn’t this kind of arrival. If they were the three lords at all. But the one called Creagan had spoken words from the summons. No one would do that unless…
“I will speak with you three, privately.”
Wilford moved closer to the queen. “I would advise against that, Your Majesty.”
“I will take that under advisement,” she said and rose.
Creagan had thought her tall while sitting, and she was taller than most woman but not as tall as he expected, though she was commanding, her shoulders straight and chin lifted as she looked at the three of them.
“You three will follow me,” she ordered.
Wilford went to follow. “I should be present.”
“I said privately, Wilford,” Eudora said abruptly.
Creagan watched the exchange with interest. It was obvious that the queen's adviser was accustomed to being included. More than that, he appeared accustomed to believing he had a right to be included.
“I don't like the thought of you alone with three armed men you don't know,” Wilford said, making his objection known.
“I will not be alone. There will be three armed warriors to protect me.”
Wilford clearly didn't agree. “Your Majesty—”
“That will be all, Wilford,” Eudora said, dismissing him.
Wilford was not pleased and it showed in his knitted brow. “As you wish, my queen.”
Eudora descended from the dais.
Creagan watched her approach, intrigued by the woman who had summoned them and now stood only a few feet away. She moved with grace and confidence and if she feared them, had any doubts at being alone with them, she did not show it.
Eudora’s gaze settled on Creagan. “And you.”
Creagan turned a charming smile on her. “Aye, my queen?”
“You can stop looking for your woman.”
“You found her for me?” he asked gleefully.
Eudora stared at him. “Of course, I did.”
She turned and walked away, not reminding them to follow. She had ordered once for them to do so. She need not repeat it.
“Finally, this will be done,” Legion said as they followed a distance behind her.
“The Gods willing, for the last time,” Torden said and the other two nodded in agreement.