David Coe - Bonds of Vengeance

She shuddered, turning away from the window but leaving it open. Diani’s message had made her think this way. She had tried to put Dalvia out of her mind since the funeral. Naturally she had no intention of ending Yserne’s ties to House Curlinte. The alliance between the two families was nearly as old as the Yserne Dynasty, and the army of House Curlinte had fought to protect the matriarchy on many occasions. Olesya was fond of Sertio and loved Diani almost as she did her own children. She merely wished for some time to mourn her friend, to heal the wound Dalvia’s death had left on her heart.

It seemed, however, that Diani needed her, and who was Olesya to deny the girl the comfort or guidance she sought.

The message from Curlinte had been quite vague and brief, nearly to the point of impropriety. It merely stated that she had already left Curlinte and expected to reach the royal city by the twelfth day of the waxing-today. There was no mention of what she wished to discuss, no request for an audience with the queen, a familiarity even Dalvia would not have allowed herself. Perhaps Olesya should have expected this. Diani was still quite young, and she had always been an impetuous child, though no more so than Olesya’s own daughters. Boys, the queen had decided long ago, were easier to raise than girls. She laughed at the thought, wondering if that were as true in patriarchies.

Notwithstanding her desire to have no dealings with House Curlinte for a time, and the inappropriate tone of Diani’s message, Olesya had spared no effort in preparing the castle for the girl’s arrival. It was to be Diani’s first visit to the royal city as duchess in her own right, and custom dictated that she be received as befitted her new title. She would be met at the city gates by a hundred of Yserne’s soldiers, including men bearing the colors of both houses. Heralds would greet her with the Sanbiri anthem and, of course, the queen herself would welcome her to the city, declaring her guestfriend of all the people of Yserne. There would be a feast this night and a sword tournament among the soldiers of the royal army and whatever men Diani brought with her from Curlinte. Musicians would perform at the feast and in the streets of the city, as would tumblers and Qirsi fire conjurers. To the people of the city, it would almost seem that the Festival had arrived early. Diani, the queen was quite certain, would remember this visit for the rest of her days.

No sooner had she formed the thought than Olesya heard bells ringing from the east gate of the city. Diani’s company was approaching the city walls.

The queen wrapped herself in the royal mantle-blue and red, the colors of Yserne-and placed on her brow the silver circlet worn by Yserne’s queens for more than five centuries. Glancing briefly at her image in the large mirror on her sleeping chamber’s far wall, she stepped to the door and pulled it open, only to find Abeni ja Krenta, her archminister, standing in the corridor, her hand poised to knock.

The Qirsi woman raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Some would say you have gleaning power, Your Highness. You anticipate my knock before you hear it.”

Olesya gave an indulgent smile. “I merely heard the same bells you did, Abeni.”

The archminister’s eyebrows went up in feigned innocence. “Were there bells? I didn’t hear them.”

“Come along,” the queen said, still smiling as she started down the corridor. Abeni quickly fell in step beside her, smoothing her ministerial robes with a white hand. “I take it all is ready for Diani’s arrival.”

“Yes, Your Highness. The kitchenmaster is complaining that the cellarmaster has chosen the wrong wine for the feast tonight, but I’ve spoken with them both and made it clear that they’re to have the matter settled before the duchess sets foot in the castle.”

“I imagine they have their swords drawn as we speak.”

Abeni gave a small laugh. “No doubt, Your Highness.”

They emerged from the castle at the base of the queen’s tower and crossed through the vast network of gates and wards that guarded the fortress from would-be invaders. At the outermost gate, they were joined by eight soldiers who arrayed themselves around the queen, the silver hilts of their blades gleaming in the sunlight. From the castle gate, the queen and her escort followed a winding lane down toward the city. It was lined with people who had set aside their chores and business to greet Curlinte’s duchess, and seeing the queen, they cheered loudly.

Before they reached the entrance to the city, Olesya heard the first strains of Sanbiri’s anthem echo off the castle walls. Diani’s company had reached the city gate, and the queen would do the same just as the anthem ended.

Olesya glanced at Abeni and favored her with a smile. “You planned this well, Archminister. You’re to be commended.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. It was nothing.”

As the last strains of the anthem died away, Olesya stepped through the city gate with Abeni just behind her. The soldiers of Yserne stood to the side of the road, their blades raised in salute, their blue-and-red uniforms as bright as new blooms. But Olesya could not take her eyes off the duchess. Diani sat on her great bay, her face white and covered with sweat, though the day was cool. Sertio, her father, was beside her atop a grey stallion, his hand holding her reins. Behind them, all mounted, a company of soldiers waited in silence, twenty strong, a surprisingly large contingent of guards for such a journey. The queen felt her stomach tighten.

“We’ll dispense with the formalities, Archminister,” Olesya said in a low voice.

Abeni nodded. “Of course, Your Highness.”

The queen stepped forward, opening her arms in greeting. “Diani, duchess of Curlinte, we welcome you to Yserne. I name you guest-friend of this house so that all will know that you are under my protection. So long as you remain in this city, the soldiers of Yserne will guard your life as they would my own.”

Diani swung herself off her mount stiffly, and knelt before her. A moment later, Sertio and the Curlinte guards did the same.

“My thanks, Your Highness,” the duchess said, her voice strained. “You do us great honor by welcoming us so.”

“Rise, child. Let me look at you.”

Diani and the men in her company stood and the duchess kept herself utterly still, suffering the queen’s gaze as if she were ashamed of her appearance.

“What’s happened?” Olesya asked. She cast a look at Sertio, whose concern was as obvious as Diani’s weariness. “Is she ill?”

“I’ll tell you everything when we’re safely in the castle,” the duchess said. And as she spoke, her eyes wandered not to the soldiers or the mob of people visible through the gate but rather to Abeni.

Only then did the queen realize that Diani had come to Yserne without her first minister.

“Of course.” Olesya faced the Qirsi woman. “Perhaps you should return to the castle ahead of us, Archminister. Make certain that our guests’ quarters are ready.”

Abeni was eying the duchess, her expression grim, her cheeks even more pallid than usual. “Yes, Your Highness.” She bowed to Diani. “Welcome to Yserne, my lady.”

Diani said nothing, though she did nod once.

Clearly the duchess was in a good deal of pain, but she walked with the queen back up to the castle, even managing a smile and an occasional wave to the men and women cheering her arrival. She was her mother’s daughter.

Once inside the castle, Diani and Sertio followed the queen back to her chambers, none of them speaking. Only when the door was closed and they were alone did Olesya turn and look at the duchess again.

“Now tell me,” she said. “What’s happened?”