Chapter 11 #2
He trotted ahead and Josslyn’s mare kept pace by Luna, close enough Avera heard Josslyn murmur, “I know Harry.”
“And?”
“A decent sort, very loyal to the crown.”
“I hear a but,” Avera replied.
“His son is another matter. He got into some trouble a few years back. Your mother sent him packing from the capital for conduct unbecoming.”
The admission arched Avera’s eyebrow. “Meaning he might not be so accommodating to a Voxspira.”
“Meaning he’s the type who’d listen to Benoit.”
“Assuming the two know each other.”
“Could be I worry for nothing, but best forewarned.”
“Doesn’t Gustav know about this troubled son?”
“Yes.” Josslyn sighed. “But he played it off at the time as boys will be boys. He can’t seem to grasp the son could be so different from the father.”
“And yet he saw it in my own siblings. Aldrich was nothing like my mother. Even my sisters were nothing like me.” More concerned with their dresses and hair than anything of substance.
“I think that’s why Gustav likes you so much. You remind him of the late queen. He spoke about you, you know, with the pride of a father.”
“He did?”
Josslyn nodded. “The time you knocked the sword from his hand in training, I thought he’d burst. He was so pleased you’d bested him.”
“Tell that to the bruises I got the next lesson.” A rueful admission to which Josslyn laughed.
“Not to punish but to ensure you didn’t get cocky. A failing of many who think they’ve mastered a craft.”
Avera slewed a glance at Josslyn. “You’re close despite the age difference.”
“I think it’s because he couldn’t have children of his own. Which is dumb. I never understood why rooks couldn’t marry and have a family.”
“It has to do with ensuring those closest to the royals can’t be threatened or blackmailed. A man fearing for his wife or children might not perform his duty to the crown.”
“So why does the rule only apply to those who attain the rank of rook?”
“I don’t know.” But it would be something Avera delved into, should she ever manage to regain her throne.
Rather than enter the town proper, Gustav took them around the outskirts, past huts with dirt yards where chickens pecked and dogs lifted their heads to utter a bark of warning.
A few children scampered here and there, pointing at the trio riding by.
None called out or tried to stop them, not even the woman hanging her wash.
At least they weren’t recognized. Then again, why would they be?
It wasn’t as if Avera had been well-known or popular before.
She also didn’t dress like the ladies of the court.
Josslyn appeared more royal than her, given her more voluminous skirts and the ruffle of her blouse peeking through her jacket.
Their horses had been stripped of any identifying marks and Gustav had his coat, with its royal emblem, tucked away.
In the distance, they spotted a small pond with a tiny dock upon which sat a boy with a stick, fishing. Past it they saw a manor built of wood, two stories in height. It boasted a stable to one side and a large barn-like building on the other, but no paddocks.
Seeing Avera’s stare, Josslyn explained. “It’s a wood shop. Inside Harry’s got saws and planers to smooth the planks which then go to the carpenters who fabricate everything from wagons to fine furniture. The palace has several of his pieces.”
“I’ve never seen such a large shop,” Avera murmured, not surprising since she’d never strayed further than Horizon’s End.
However, she’d always known Daerva was quite self-sufficient, exporting many quality items. The only thing they didn’t make locally was specialty items, like silk—they didn’t have the right kind of web weavers for it—certain spices that only grew in specific climes, stones for jewelry, and metal for weapons—their mines didn’t have enough ore.
As they neared the manor, with Gustav already swinging off his horse ahead of them, Avera murmured, “A war would destroy much.” Was it worth it just so she could call herself queen?
“A despot like Benoit will be worse.”
“We’re assuming he’ll be a bad leader.”
“A man willing to murder so easily won’t be good for Daerva.”
A woman of wide curves answered the door and smiled at Gustav before hugging him.
Avera and Josslyn dismounted, letting the lad holding Gustav’s reins take theirs.
As they neared, Gustav turned and introduced them.
“Lady Rianna, you probably recall my sister, Lady Josslyn. And this is my niece, Sara.”
Avera almost startled at the name he’d given her before smiling broadly. “Milady.” She curtsied prettily, knowing it would be expected since he’d not given her a title.
“Welcome. Welcome. Harry’s just out in the mill, but he’ll be in shortly for dinner. What a lovely surprise. What brings you this way?” the lady inquired.
“Escorting my niece to Vultures Peak for her wedding.”
Avera latched on to the lie and gushed. “Uncle Gustav is so kind. I was ever so nervous to be travelling what with brigands in the woods.”
“Brigands? Goodness. They must be thinking they can take advantage of our new queen. Such a tragedy what happened to the last one.” The lady put a hand to her chest.
“Awful,” Josslyn agreed. “But at least her daughter seems capable. I’m sure she’ll handle those thieves.”
“How rude of me to keep you outside. Come in. Come in.” Rianna ushered them into a home that had an insane amount of wood. Floors, walls, ceilings, furniture. Probably to be expected given Lord Harry’s job.
Lady Rianna immediately brought them to some rooms on the second floor, one for Josslyn and Avera to share, with Gustav’s across the hall from them.
As they washed up, Avera couldn’t help but remark, “The lady is very nice.”
“She is. Rianna’s always been too nice. Probably explains her spoiled son.”
“Will he be at the dinner?”
“Most likely, so remember your name. Sara.”
Avera’s lips twitched. “I’ll try.”
They descended to boisterous male laughter. Lord Harry had arrived and chatted with Gustav. At the sight of Avera and Josslyn, the big man exclaimed, “You’re just in time for dinner. Wait until you taste what my wife has prepared. She’s a most excellent cook.”
Lord Harry led them to the dining room and waved them into seats before helping his wife to bring out the food, which was indeed delicious.
The evening proved pleasant, and surreal given recent circumstances.
It was hard to not smile and relax as their gracious host ensured the conversation and laughter flowed during the meal.
Harry also kept their glasses full. While Gustav refused the offer of alcohol, Josslyn had a few glasses of wine.
With dessert, she sipped a port which she declared delicious.
“I should hope it’s good,” Lord Harry guffawed. “It came from your winery.”
“So, this is the lady who thinks she can ferment grapes better than a man,” drawled a male voice. A man around Avera’s age entered, his blond hair slicked back, his hawkish nose overpowering his face.
“Xavier, be nice,” chided Rianna. “The lady Josslyn is our guest, and I will add that her wine is the best around.”
“If you say so. I prefer something with a bit more spirit.” With that, Xavier poured himself a glass of something amber before his gaze settled on Avera. “And who is this?”
“My niece. I’m escorting her to Vultures Peak for her wedding.” Gustav hadn’t changed his pose, but Avera knew him well enough to notice he’d gone from relaxed to alert.
“A bit old for breeding, isn’t she?” Xavier stated with a sneer.
While Avera wanted to put him in her place, she held her tongue.
Josslyn didn’t. “Women can marry for reasons other than begetting children.”
“I guess it’s better she spreads her legs for a husband than as a whore.”
Avera almost choked. Did Xavier have no manners at all?
Lord Harry turned red. “That is quite enough from you. To your room if you cannot be gracious.”
“Gracious about what? Telling the truth?”
Lord Harry stood. “It’s not too late to have you shipped out to serve in the naval fleet.”
“And who will force me? You?” Xavier laughed and it was Gustav’s turn to stand.
“You will show respect to your father.”
“Or what? Rumor claims it’s your fault the queen was murdered because you were too stubborn to admit you couldn’t do the job anymore. A common problem, apparently.” Xavier glanced at his father. “It’s long past time for the old men in Daerva to retire and for new blood to take their place.”
“We have new blood. Or have you forgotten our young queen?” Josslyn quietly stated.
“A bastard female that should have never ascended. Daerva needs a king. A strong one that won’t rule softly.”
“Those are treasonous words,” was Gustav’s flat reply. “You are lucky I am a guest in your father’s home, or we would be having a chat with blades.”
“Anytime, old man,” sneered Xavier.
Poor Rianna wrung her hands, flustered but not speaking. Avera bit her tongue so hard it bled. How could such a callous idiot be their child?
“Out,” Harry bellowed. “Or so help me, I will give Gustav permission to thrash you.”
“I’ll gladly leave but not because you bluster. I have better things to do.” Xavier left and an uncomfortable silence fell.
Rianna popped up. “I’ll go fetch dessert.”
No one pointed out they’d already had bowls of custard after the meal. Let the woman collect herself.
Harry slumped in his seat and sighed. “I don’t know where I went wrong. He’s always been a hothead, but of late he’s downright belligerent. Acts as if he’s better than everyone. Struts around, ordering people about as if he’s already lord.”
“The suggestion to put him on a ship might not be a bad one. The sailors wouldn’t put up with it,” Gustav offered with a shrug.
“And yet how would I get him there?”
Gustav’s lips curved as he said, “Nothing a good knock in the head and some rope wouldn’t fix.”
The suggestion led to Harry laughing, and soon the conversation resumed as did the good humor. However, when they adjourned to their room, Josslyn wedged a chair under the door.
Avera arched a brow.
“Just in case,” Josslyn murmured. “I don’t trust that prick, Xavier.”
And with good reason as it turned out.
The handle turned in the wee hours of the night, and the door rattled in its frame, but didn’t open.
Avera couldn’t sleep after that, and thus was the first to smell the smoke seeping under the door.
She removed the wedged chair and flung open the door, hoping it was just a clogged chimney spewing fumes.
However, the heat rushed in to dry her skin.
The thick smoke and, most tellingly, the orange glow coming from the stairwell made it clear.
The wooden house was on fire.