Wen Spencer - A Brothers price

Ren shuddered at the thought. To owe her sister’s life to the sloppiness of cruel strangers and the lucky clear thinking of the daughters of farmers! So instead of hitting Odelia with pillows, Ren tucked her sister into the borrowed bed.

Raven leaned against the wall in the hall. “I heard you two talking. She’s awake? How is she?”

Ren shut the door quietly. “Scheming to steal kisses from the farmers’ beautiful son.”

Raven shook her head. “That sounds like Odelia. 1‘

“She won’t be able to ride to the garrison. It would make her happy to stay here. It would allow her to continue her schemes.”

“It would make me happy to stay here,” Raven stated. “With the Queens Justice looking for the cannons and Odelia’s attackers, this place is safer than the local garrison. Apparently the lieutenant’s predecessor allowed the town to grow up to the walls of the garrison, replaced a stone wall with a wood one-to cut cost-and so forth. All in all, it would be like guarding lambs in a brush lot.”

“And the famous, infamous Whistlers? Are they safe?”

“They seem to have smoothed around the edges from the last I’d heard of them.”

“And what have you heard of them?”

Raven smiled at Ren’s impatient tone. “The grandmother Elder, or maybe the great-grandmother Elder of this lot, did something that got herself executed, her sisters cashiered, and their daughters blacklisted.

To keep the family alive, the Eldest bullied the Sisterhood of the Night to take her and her sisters in.”

“The thieves’ guild? Bullied?”

“Aye, had the family switched into training as thieves. They were better than most, being already trained to work together under fire and fight well enough to break free if caught. Well, the War of the False Eldest started, and things were going badly. The False Eldest knew our defenses and we knew nothing of Tastledae. We sent in scouts, but they were all caught and executed. Then, somehow, Wellsbury picked up the Whistler girls.”

“Soldiers trained as thieves, or thieves trained as soldiers.”

Raven nodded. “They were a motley crew, all born to the Order of the Sword, so each had a different father, and different grandfather more often than not. They fought like wildcats with everyone and everything. They lied, they stole, they ignored orders, and they won the war. Wellsbury started them with spying, but expanded that to wreaking general mayhem behind enemy lines. There had been thirty of them to start, only about ten survived the war, and they cashed out after being knighted.”

Ren looked at the well-ordered home. “Their grandfather and father must have had strong character to turn a motley crew of spies into this well-run army.”

Raven nodded in agreement. “I’ve heard so many women go on about wanting a biddable husband, but I’d rather have a strong-willed man who can keep your children in line. Weak husbands make spoiled children.”

Ren leaned against the wall, rubbing at the bridge of her nose, weighing the few options available.

“Okay, Odelia stays. I want to send a report downriver to let our mothers know she’s safe and that we might miss the opening of Summer Court. Trini will have to preside as Elder Judge. See what the Whistlers have in the way of riding horses. After I’m done with my report, I want to head out.”

Raven shook her head. “It’s dusk, Ren, we’re dead tired, in a strange land, and they’ve had one go at a royal princess today already. Let Bounder search for the cannons. Or do you really want Odelia to be Eldest?”

The last made Ren laugh, but she conceded the point. “Okay. Okay. Halley, though, is two months older than Odelia.”

“No one has seen Halley for four months,” Raven said quietly.

Ren sighed, closing her eyes against the pain that truth triggered. “There is that.”

Jerin and the boys moved to his bedroom to ride out the royal storming of the house. Heria brought him progress reports, as well as complaints of hunger growing among their younger sisters.

The Princess Ren was pleased at finding her sister alive and well. When Princess Odelia had gone missing, she had feared the worst. Seeing that the younger princess was not fit to ride, it was decided that the royal party would spend the night. Knowing their mothers would have a fit if Princess Ren was housed in the barn, Corelle offered up both the youngest and the older sisters’ bedrooms. They were graciously accepted.

Nothing had been said, Heria complained, about dinner, and all the baby sisters were starting to whine and cry. Knowing full well that his sisters couldn’t organize dinner to save their lives, Jerin came down from his bedroom to take control of the kitchen.

Heria had only one pot on the stove, just breaking into a boil. It contained peeled and sliced potatoes.

The youngest were divided between raiding the pantry and peering in at the goose, trying to decide if it was done.

“Is that enough potatoes?” Heria asked, chasing girls out of the pantry.

Jerin dodged the little girls to consider what they had on hand for dinner. “How many are in Princess Rennsellaer’s party?”

“Fifteen. Ten privates, two lieutenants, a captain, and the two princesses,” Heria reported. “All of the guard are fathered out of the military cribs-Order of the Sword tattoos range from second generation to sixth. One of the privates is sister to the younger lieutenant; otherwise, there are no other sibling pairs. All but Princess Odelia are currently armed with a pistol, a brace of knives, and a saber. They also have standard-issue rifles and bayonets, but those are geared with their personal items upstairs.”

“They each have a hundred rounds of rifle ammunition, and only fifty rounds of pistol ammo.” Blush’s tone indicated she thought it was a paltry supply. “They have no food supplies nor grain. Each woman has a personal purse, totaling sixty-seven crowns, eighty-six gils, and fifteen quince between them, but they’re not carrying a cashbox.”

“Blush!” Jerin hissed in surprise. “You didn’t search their gear?”

Blush looked at him with surprise and hurt. “They won’t be able to tell.”

Leia, who was younger than Blush by an hour, and twin-close as a result, added in, “Princess Rennsellaer has a royal seal in her traveling desk, and Captain Tern has hers secured against spies.”

It was difficult to tell which desk created the most interest. Immediately plans were laid for a series of reconnaissance missions to see said desks by the rest of the youngest siblings, Doric included.

“No!” Jerin stated firmly. “You will not invade the princesses’ privacy or that of their guards any further.

They’re guests in this house, and they will be treated with respect.”

“Oh, pooh,” Heria risked grumbling, but the rest held their tongues in the face of his glower.

“And that’s plenty of potatoes,” Jerin told Heria.

Fifteen hungry women. There would be no leftover goose for lunch tomorrow. The potatoes would make things stretch, but one could eat only so many before getting bored. “Get a bushel of sweet yams scrubbed up, and we’ll put them in the oven after the goose comes out.” He handed out gathering baskets. “The rest of you, out to the garden. Pick a full basket of peas, and cut a quarter row of asparagus-make the stems long as possible.”

Summer hurried into the kitchen just as he set the goose out. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him.

“What are you doing?” she whispered fiercely, throwing a look toward the front of the house, where the royal party gathered in the parlor.

“I am cooking dinner.” Jerin picked up the tray of now scrubbed and pierced sweet yams and slid them into the empty oven. “Roasted goose, sage dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, blanched asparagus, boiled peas, sliced winter apples, cheese, fresh bread, butter, and yams.”