didn’t think to send one of your men ahead so the king could prepare for your arrival?”
Brail felt his ire rising again. It was one thing to be questioned by Fetnalla, who had served him so well for so many years. But a duke did not explain himself to a soldier, not even to a captain in the king’s guard.
“I’m here now,” Brail said, anger seeping into his voice. “Do you care to inform the king, or shall I ride on to the castle unannounced and let him see for himself how careless his soldiers have become?”
The man paled. “Of course, my lord.” He turned smartly and barked an order to the men standing nearby. Two of them started running toward the castle, while the rest took positions on either side of the city road, drew their swords, and raised them to their brows.
“I’ll accompany you to the castle myself, Lord Orvinti,” the captain said. “Please follow me.”
He led the duke and his company past the soldiers, who stood motionless in salute, and through the marketplace of Solkara. Seeing Orvinti’s colors, which Brail’s guards still held high, the people of the king’s city paused in their business to stare. Some of them even clapped. Children pointed at the flags and at the swords carried by the duke’s men. They pointed as well at Fetnalla, staring wide-eyed at the Qirsi minister and whispering to each other.
“They must think you’re the duke,” Brail said, glancing back at her, hoping to draw a smile.
But she merely shook her head, her expression unchanged. “No, my lord. They just know that I’m a sorcerer.”
He stared at her a moment longer, then faced forward again, not knowing what to say.
They reached the south gate of the castle a few moments later. Four of Carden’s soldiers stood before the gate, two of them bearing Aneiran flags, and the other two bearing the banners of Solkara and Orvinti. As they stood there, a group of musicians emerged from the castle and began to play “Amnalla’s March,” which had been written to celebrate the investiture of Queen Amnalla, the first Aneiran ruler to come from House Orvinti. It was not Brail’s favorite Orvinti anthem, but for six centuries it had been the choice of Solkaran kings to honor dukes of Orvinti to the castle, no doubt because Amnalla’s Rebellion ended the First Bistari Supremacy.
When the musicians finished, a second group of guards, also bearing banners of Aneira, Solkara, and Orvinti, stepped through the gate, followed by Queen Chofya, the king’s archminister, and Solkara’s prelate.
Brail swung himself off his mount and took a step forward. He turned briefly, intending to tell Fetnalla to do the same, but she was already there, just a step behind him, as was fitting.
She deserves better
, he thought.
An instant later he dropped to one knee, as did the minister, and bowed his head to the queen.
“Rise, Brail,” Chofya said, smiling at him. “Welcome to Solkara.”
She was still beautiful, with a full sensuous mouth, olive skin, and eyes so dark they appeared black. But Brail thought she looked weary, and there were more lines on her face than he remembered. She was dressed in a pale blue gown, her long black hair held back from her brow by a circlet of gold. She wore a single red gem at her throat that sparkled in the sun like morning dew on a rose petal.
The duke stood, then bent to kiss her hand.
“You honor me, Your Highness.”
“You do us the honor with this most… unexpected visit.”
The queen then offered quick introductions of the prelate and the king’s Qirsi, before leading Brail and his company through the first gate of the castle. From there, they continued up the long, narrow ramps that ran between the great stone walls of the castle’s outer defenses, and finally stepped into the vast inner courtyard of the king’s palace.
Carden awaited them there, standing in front of what must have been five hundred soldiers in full battle uniform, all of them with their swords raised.
Brail felt his ire rising again. It was one thing to be questioned by Fetnalla, who had served him so well for so many years. But a duke did not explain himself to a soldier, not even to a captain in the king’s guard.
“I’m here now,” Brail said, anger seeping into his voice. “Do you care to inform the king, or shall I ride on to the castle unannounced and let him see for himself how careless his soldiers have become?”
The man paled. “Of course, my lord.” He turned smartly and barked an order to the men standing nearby. Two of them started running toward the castle, while the rest took positions on either side of the city road, drew their swords, and raised them to their brows.
“I’ll accompany you to the castle myself, Lord Orvinti,” the captain said. “Please follow me.”
He led the duke and his company past the soldiers, who stood motionless in salute, and through the marketplace of Solkara. Seeing Orvinti’s colors, which Brail’s guards still held high, the people of the king’s city paused in their business to stare. Some of them even clapped. Children pointed at the flags and at the swords carried by the duke’s men. They pointed as well at Fetnalla, staring wide-eyed at the Qirsi minister and whispering to each other.
“They must think you’re the duke,” Brail said, glancing back at her, hoping to draw a smile.
But she merely shook her head, her expression unchanged. “No, my lord. They just know that I’m a sorcerer.”
He stared at her a moment longer, then faced forward again, not knowing what to say.
They reached the south gate of the castle a few moments later. Four of Carden’s soldiers stood before the gate, two of them bearing Aneiran flags, and the other two bearing the banners of Solkara and Orvinti. As they stood there, a group of musicians emerged from the castle and began to play “Amnalla’s March,” which had been written to celebrate the investiture of Queen Amnalla, the first Aneiran ruler to come from House Orvinti. It was not Brail’s favorite Orvinti anthem, but for six centuries it had been the choice of Solkaran kings to honor dukes of Orvinti to the castle, no doubt because Amnalla’s Rebellion ended the First Bistari Supremacy.
When the musicians finished, a second group of guards, also bearing banners of Aneira, Solkara, and Orvinti, stepped through the gate, followed by Queen Chofya, the king’s archminister, and Solkara’s prelate.
Brail swung himself off his mount and took a step forward. He turned briefly, intending to tell Fetnalla to do the same, but she was already there, just a step behind him, as was fitting.
She deserves better
, he thought.
An instant later he dropped to one knee, as did the minister, and bowed his head to the queen.
“Rise, Brail,” Chofya said, smiling at him. “Welcome to Solkara.”
She was still beautiful, with a full sensuous mouth, olive skin, and eyes so dark they appeared black. But Brail thought she looked weary, and there were more lines on her face than he remembered. She was dressed in a pale blue gown, her long black hair held back from her brow by a circlet of gold. She wore a single red gem at her throat that sparkled in the sun like morning dew on a rose petal.
The duke stood, then bent to kiss her hand.
“You honor me, Your Highness.”
“You do us the honor with this most… unexpected visit.”
The queen then offered quick introductions of the prelate and the king’s Qirsi, before leading Brail and his company through the first gate of the castle. From there, they continued up the long, narrow ramps that ran between the great stone walls of the castle’s outer defenses, and finally stepped into the vast inner courtyard of the king’s palace.
Carden awaited them there, standing in front of what must have been five hundred soldiers in full battle uniform, all of them with their swords raised.
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