Shalador's Lady
Page 73

Cassidy closed her eyes. Could it be that simple?
Gray stamped the snow off his boots and walked into Ranon’s kitchen. “It’s colder than Hell out there.” He stripped off his coat and hung it on a peg, then removed his boots and called in the soft house shoes Burle and Devra had given him for Winsol. “Ranon, you got anything hot to drink?”
“I’m making coffee, and have some whiskey to go with it,” Ranon replied.
Powell sat at the kitchen table with Shaddo. Archerr stayed near one of the windows, looking out at the yard—or at the Queen’s Residence.
Archerr was the escort on watch today. Why wasn’t the man at the Residence instead of standing in Ranon’s kitchen?
When Ranon asked him to stop by the house to talk, there had been some urgency in the psychic communication, but the Shalador Warlord Prince hadn’t indicated it was a court meeting rather than a personal conversation.
“What’s wrong?” Gray asked.
Ranon put the pot of coffee, the bottle of whiskey, and five mugs on the table. “It’s Powell’s meeting.”
“This came with the rest of the day’s correspondence.” Powell called in a piece of expensive paper and handed it to Gray.
Ranon came around the table. Leaning over Gray’s shoulder, he read the letter and began swearing viciously as he paced around the kitchen. Gray read it and handed it to Shaddo, whose eyes glazed with killing fury as he gave the paper to Archerr.
“That bitch was gone,” Shaddo snarled. “Talon told us she had gone back to Dharo for good.”
“Because that’s what Theran told him,” Archerr said.
“No, Theran only said Kermilla had gone back to Dharo to celebrate Winsol with her people,” Ranon said. “Talon had the impression Theran didn’t expect her to return, but Grayhaven didn’tsay that.”
“Doesn’t matter what was or wasn’t said. She was gone, and now she’s back,” Shaddo snapped.
“Where is Cassie?” Gray asked.
Ranon whirled to face Powell. “Is she giving up and running again? Hell’s fire! What more do we need to do before she believes in us?”
Hearing grief and desperation under Ranon’s anger, Gray raised a hand—and immediately felt the other Warlord Princes in the room yank on the leash to regain control of their tempers.
“Cassie isn’t going to run anywhere,” he said quietly. He didn’t think she would run. Not anymore. But if she did because of Kermilla, he’d find her and bring her back. “Powell?”
“After reading Kermilla’s letter, she said she wasn’t feeling well and went up to her room. Vae went with her.” Dry amusement filled Powell’s shadowed eyes. “Don’t worry, Ranon. Lady Cassidy isn’t going anywhere without our being informed.”
The tension in the room eased a little.
Powell’s amusement faded. “Perhaps I was too dismissive and didn’t take into account Cassidy’s feelings about the other Queen.”
“Kermilla is a scar on Cassie’s heart, and that scar bleeds every time Kermilla brushes against Cassie’s life,” Gray said. “But she’ll get past today’s hurt and go on.”
Cassie would learn to live with her scars just like he was learning to live with his.
“Is she going to let that bitch keep threatening everything we’ve all worked for?” Archerr asked.
“Cassie isn’t letting that bitch do anything,” Shaddo growled. “This mess is Theran’s doing.”
“There’s an easy way to fix it,” Archerr said. “It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
They looked at him, and Gray saw the same question in all their eyes. “No, that isn’t the way to fix it. Not this time. When Cassie knows we’ve prepared for this, when she knows we’re going to stand with her, she’ll stand with us. She won’t turn her back on her people.”
“Then let’s make sure she knows we’re going to stand with her,” Ranon said.
“I’ve already contacted those I could reach in the First Circle who were working beyond the village today,” Powell said. “They’ll contact the others, so we’ll all be here around sunset.”
“Fine,” Gray said. “Then let’s have some of that coffee before we all get back to work.”
Cassie opened her eyes. Full dark outside. She must have slept for a few hours—and someone must have thrown a blanket over her and added a warming spell to it. Otherwise she would have gotten cold and woken up.
She tried to shift. The blanket grunted and yawned. A moment later, a small ball of witchlight floated near the bedroom door, lighting the room enough for her to see that she was pinned down by Scelties. Vae, Khollie, and Darkmist. Darcy, Keelie, and . . .
Catching the scent of leather and horses, she twisted to look behind her.
. . . Lloyd.
“Let me up.”
They were awake and watching her. Not one of them moved.
“I have to pee.Now. Let me up.”
They jumped off the bed. One of them used Craft to open her door. Darcy and Lloyd took up a position in the hallway, blocking access to anything except the bathroom and other bedrooms on this side of the staircase. Vae and Keelie trotted in front of her. Darkmist and Khollie followed so close behind she was afraid of kicking them if she raised her foot for a normal step. So she shuffled to the bathroom.
Khollie followed her inside.
“No,” Cassidy said. “I can do this by myself.”
Khollie wagged his tail and didn’t move.
“Out.”
He didn’t move until Vaegrff ed at him.
She closed the door in their furry faces, but as she prepared to use the toilet, she could sense them—Vae, Darkmist, and Khollie—standing right in front of the door andknew those keen ears would be pricked to catch every sound.
“Back off,” she growled.
She’d bet they didn’t take more than one step back. And she’d bet a season’s income that those ears stayed pricked.
She wasn’t going to win this argument, so she pretended she had privacy and took care of business.
*Your males want to talk to you,* Vae said when Cassidy opened the door.
She wasn’t sure she was ready to talk tothem. Not that she had a choice. Darcy and Lloyd took point. Keelie and Khollie blocked her on either side. Vae and Darkmist were behind her in prime herding position.
Cows and sheep must be terrified to see even one of them coming,Cassidy thought as they escorted her to the big meeting room. They escorted her all the way in, then turned and trotted out, closing the door behind them.
Her whole First Circle was there, along with Gray and Shira, but Reyhana was not.
Reyhana had the kind of strength that would attract strong males, the kind of strength that would cause Kermilla to see the girl as a serious rival in a couple of years. Would Kermilla take steps to eliminate a potential rival? It was a possibility.
And another reason to show my teeth,Cassidy thought.
A place at the table had been left for her—on the far side, away from the door, and smack in the middle. A not-so-subtle way of telling her that she wasn’t getting out of the room without going through her men.
She found that comforting, and she realized Vae was right. This wasn’t confusing at all.
Gray came up to her and brushed a hand over her hair. “You feeling better after getting some rest?”
She smiled at him. “Yes, I am.”
He studied her as if he’d been prepared for one kind of mood and was faced with another. Then he smiled in return. “Come over here. We have some things to show you.”
He led her to her place at the table, but she felt too restless to sit down. And she wasn’t sure how to interpret the men’s hard eyes and grim faces since Powell had seemed so dismissive earlier.
“Powell told you about the letter,” she said.
“We saw that piece of shit,” Talon replied. “It pissed off the rest of us, but if it knocked your legs out from under you for even a little while, I guess it was a good ploy for Kermilla to use.”
“Ploy?” Cassidy stared at her Master of the Guard.
“You bluff well enough when we play cards. I’m surprised you couldn’t see this for what it is.” Talon leaned across the table toward her. “Direct question, Cassie. You give us a direct answer. Are you walking away from us? Yes or no.”
“No, I’m not walking away from you, but—”
“ ‘But’ wasn’t one of the choices,” Talon growled.
“—my contract ends in two months.”
“Only if you choose to end it,” Powell said. “The provisional contract was a way for us to save face if you chose not to stay with us.”
That hadn’t beenher impression of what that contract meant. “Kermilla says she’s going to be the Queen.”
“Not without a fight,” Ranon said.
Fight with words. With Protocol. By taking this challenge before a tribunal of Queens, assuming she and Kermilla both had an official court. That’s what Ranon meant. Didn’t he?
She looked at the men again. Warlords and Warlord Princes. Warriors who had already survived years of battles, a lifetime of fighting in one way or another.
They weren’t going to fight with words or with Protocol or by arguing before a tribunal to decide who would rule their Territory. They would meet their challengers on a killing field as they had done before.
“If this turns into a fight, some of you could die,” she said, chilled by the possibility.
“Some of us might die either way,” Ranon said. “We’re not going to submit to a Queen who cares nothing about our people or our land. We’ve seen what that kind of Queen can do to a Territory. And over these past few months, we’ve seen what a good Queen can do. We’d rather fight for you than just fight against Kermilla, but one way or another we’re going to fight—and some of us will die.”