David Coe - Shapers of Darkness

“I will, my lord. You have my word.”

They lapsed into silence, the duke grappling with his curiosity. In the end, he was no match for it.

“What happened?”

“My lord?”

“Is the traitor dead?”

“Yes, my lord. I received word from the assassin shortly after our return from the king’s funeral.”

“Well, I suppose we should be thankful for that.”

“Yes, my lord.” Another silence. Then, “You should rest, my lord, while you can.”

“Perhaps you’re right. Thank you, Evanthya.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Tebeo stepped past her and descended the tower stairs to the corridor on which his chambers were located. He knew better than to try to sleep; even at night, recently, he found that he could do little more than doze off occasionally. Mostly he lay awake, attempting to anticipate Numar’s plans and scouring his mind for anything he might have forgotten as he readied his city and castle for civil war.

Rather than returning to his bedchamber, he went in search of Pelgia. He found her in the kitchens, overseeing the kitchenmaster’s work.

She smiled at the sight of him, though the strain of these past several days was evident on her face. There were dark circles under her eyes; her cheeks looked leaner than usual, and paler as well. Still, even wan and weary, she was lovely, and he wondered briefly if it would be unseemly for a duke and his wife to take to their bed on the eve of a war.

He walked to where she stood and took her hand, kissing her brow. “Is everything all right?”

She nodded. “Yes. There’ll be food enough, anyway.”

“Good.” He raised her hand to his lips, drawing her gaze. “Walk with me?”

They left the kitchen and walked slowly along the lower corridor, as soldiers hurried past them in either direction.

“Where are the children?” he asked after some time.

“In the cloister. Tas wants to fight, but I’ve told him that he has to wait another year. And of course Laytsa says that if her brother can raise a sword, she can as well.”

Tebeo gave a small laugh, but it gave way instantly to a deep frown. “Everyone is so eager to fight this war. Is there something wrong with me that I’m not?”

“Tas is a year shy of his Fating, Tebeo. And Laytsa’s just past her Determining. They don’t know any better.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “I realize that. But to hear Evanthya and Bausef speak of what’s coming, you’d think that our victory was assured. I should be able to speak of it the same way.”

“You’re not a warrior,” she said, slipping her arm through his. “You never have been. That’s one of the reasons I love you.”

“Dantrielle needs a warrior right now.” He knew this was true, and it made him feel old and weak. Bausef seemed ready to raise his sword against the entire Solkaran army. And Evanthya was so eager for blood that she had already tried to take on the conspiracy by herself. I hired a blade. .

“No,” Pelgia said. “Dantrielle needs a duke, a man with wisdom and compassion and strength. And you possess all those in abundance.”

Fearing that he might weep, the duke halted and kissed her deeply, heedless of the men who continued to step past them.

When at last he pulled away, she smiled, though there was a troubled look in her eyes. “You’re frightened,” she whispered.

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“I think you should take to heart the confidence of your first minister and master of arms. If they thought that we were about to be destroyed, they’d tell you to find some path to peace. Your army and your people are strong, my lord. And though you doubt it now, you are as well.”

He gazed at her in wonder. “I believe you may be strong enough for us both.”

“One doesn’t endure four labors and the loss of a babe without finding some strength.”

He nodded, stroking her cheek with a finger. “When it begins, I want you in the cloister as well. The tower is farthest from where much of the fighting will be, and it will be well defended. I’ll see to that.”

“The kitchenmaster will need my help, Tebeo. And so will the healers. A duchess doesn’t hide from war.”

“Even when her husband commands it?”

She grinned, dark eyes sparkling in the torchlight. “Especially then.”

He had to laugh, despite the terror gripping his heart. If you’re hurt or lost to me, I’ll kill the regent myself . “Very well,” he said. “But the next time Laytsa defies you, you’ll have no sympathy from me.”

“And when have I ever had it before?”

He laughed again. She had always been able to make him smile, even in the darkest times.

“I should return to the towers,” he said, reluctant to leave her.

“When was the last time you slept?”

He frowned. “You sound like Evanthya.”

“You should sleep now, while you can.”

He kissed her once more and started away. “If I could sleep I would.”

Concern creased her brow, but she nodded, giving his hand a quick squeeze before releasing it.

Suddenly he was anxious to be on the ramparts again, watching for Numar and his army. Instead, Tebeo made his way to the cloister. Having seen Pelgia, he wished to hold his children once more as well. Reaching the entrance to the abbey, however, he heard laughter coming from within: Senaon, his youngest. A moment later he also heard Laytsa. He could almost picture Tas smiling with the others. His oldest boy had always been the quiet one. They were happy, unafraid. Even knowing that the siege was coming-he had spoken of it with them just two days before-they managed to find humor and joy in one another. Who was he to interfere, to bring the shadow of war to their play?

He merely stood near the door, listening to them. After several moments, the prelate emerged from his sanctum. Seeing the duke, he stopped and opened his mouth to speak.

Tebeo raised a finger to his lips and shook his head.

Another peal of laughter echoed through the cloister, and the prelate smiled, walking to where the duke stood.

“They forget the war, my lord,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Just as they should.”

“Thank you, Father Prelate.”

“Of course, my lord. You know they’re welcome here as long as you wish them to stay. And should the battle come to these walls, I’ll guard them myself.” His grin broadened at what he saw on Tebeo’s face. “You think it an idle boast. I was quite a swordsman as a youth, and I daresay I can still fight if pressed to do so.”

Tebeo had always remained partial to the sanctuaries, even as Pelgia turned increasingly to the cloisters and the New Faith. He liked this prelate, though, and had since the prelacy passed to him nine years ago.

“I have no doubt that you can, Father Prelate. It will ease my mind knowing that our children are under your care.”

“You honor me, my lord.”

“The cloister has all it needs in the event of a siege?”

“It does, my lord. The duchess has seen to that. She’s a most extraordinary woman.”

“Indeed, she is. But she’s also headstrong and she speaks of helping the healers and the kitchenmaster.” He hesitated, but only for an instant. “If the walls are breached-”

“They’ll hold, my lord.”

“But if they don’t, I want you to find her and get her into the cloister.”

“You ask a great deal, my lord. I’m not afraid of the Solkarans, but the duchess is another matter.”

Tebeo had to smile. The gods had favored his house with so many fine people. “Do your best, Father Prelate. I can’t ask more than that.”

“You know I will, my lord.” He looked like he might say more, but at that moment, bells began to toll throughout the city.