Дэйв Дункан - Magic Casement

Gibberish! She doubted that she could recall much of the nonsense her father had spoken, but if this horror thought that she had something he wanted…

“What’s it worth?”

He laughed. “Your looks. Your virtue. Your life. It’s worth more than all of those.”

She pushed down terror. She had expected him to order her to sign away her inheritance, or possibly to announce her engagement to Angilki. She had never expected this nonsense about words. “Why? My life for a word?”

“Do you know who’s paying my troops? Your precious aunt, or whatever she is to you, the duchess of Kinvale.”

Ekka! So it had been that damned hag after all! Inos tried to replace fear with anger, but failed. She did not speak.

“Two thousand imperials she gave me to bring you here, plus whatever I can squeeze out of Krasnegar. All she wants is you, with that word—sent back to marry her idiot son.”

“Never!”

He grinned. “I agree. I never liked that deal. Besides, it’s not possible. I closed the road, didn’t I?”

She just looked at him in silence, bewildered, fighting to keep herself under control. She was crushed back against the couch and could not retreat.

“No way out until the ships come,” he said. “I closed the road, I roused the goblins. I wanted to keep certain friends of mine from coming after me, but it also means that no one can get out! We’re trapped!”

“How much?” she said with sudden wild hope. “How much to ransom Krasnegar?”

He chuckled. “Just the word—the word to ransom it from the jotnar. I must have that word!”

“Why?” He must be totally mad, and certainly there was a very strange look in his eyes.

“Because I 'm a soldier! I have a talent for stamping out vermin. With a word—” Then he seemed to realize how little she understood of this raving. He wheeled around, marched back to the door, and shot the bolt. Then he tossed his helmet down on a chair and stalked her, as she retreated, until finally he had her against the wall. He grabbed her shoulder and grinned at the sight of her terror. He licked his lips.

“You begin to believe I’m serious? Well, I’ll make you an offer, little miss. Give me the word, and I’ll see you’re proclaimed queen. I’ll defend your throne from Kalkor, and from your rebellious subjects, too, and I promise I won’t hurt you. Marry that Andor man if you want—I don’t care about that. But otherwise I shall start now by breaking your pretty little nose, and go on from there until no man will ever want to marry what’s left of you. I think my offer is worth considering, don’t you?”

It was an extraordinary offer. It was better than she could have ever dared hope. No one could question her rule if she had Yggingi’s armed might at her back. But could she believe him? Could she trust him? And could she recall the gibberish her father had spoken, and could Yggingi tell the difference if she simply made up some more gibberish of her own?

“Well?” he shouted. His fingers dug deeper into her shoulder. She tried to break loose and was appalled at his strength.

“I—”

A sudden noise from above?

Yggingi raised his head and regarded the shadowed ceiling. “What was that?”

She did not know either. It had sounded like furniture moving above them, in the bedchamber, and she had thought all the medics and undertakers had gone. Dark with suspicion, Yggingi wheeled and marched over to the doorway to the staircase up, drawing his sword as he went.

Inos fled to the other door and began to wrestle with the bolt, and for a terrifying minute it seemed to be too stiff for her, then it moved. She hauled the door open and fell into Andor’s arms.

Well, one of his arms. He was holding his sword in his other hand. “All right, my darling?”

“Yes,” she said. “I think so.”

He pulled the door shut and used both arms, holding his sword behind her. Much better! He tried to kiss her, but she was frightened that a kiss might snap the thin thread holding her together, so she declined the kiss. But it was wonderful to be held.

“He’s a horror!” she mumbled into Andor’s shoulder.

“The worst sort of dreg,” he agreed. “You go on down to the others and leave the proconsul to me.”

She pulled away, startled. “No! Andor! He’s a soldier—”

Andor flashed his teeth in a confident grin. “I shall be in no danger. It will be a pleasure.”

“Fight him?”

“I’m quite capable, my princess. I just prefer not to do it before witnesses, so you go down.”

He had never told her that he was a duelist—wonderful man! And no one had ever offered to commit a murder for her before. Just for a moment, she teetered on the brink of hysteria, then she recovered. “No, Andor! He has two thousand men here. You mustn’t!”

“This may be my only chance to get him alone, Inos.”

“No! I forbid it!”

“If you wish.” Looking disappointed, he sheathed his sword. “He’s only the first, you know.”

“What?”

“The first one after your word of power. It’s common knowledge that the kings of Krasnegar inherited one of Inisso’s words. Everyone will assume that you have it, whether you do or not.”

She broke loose. “I don’t understand.” Why was the proconsul not already coming after her?

“It would take too long to explain.” Even in the darkness of the narrow stairwell, concern glowed on that handsome face. “You mustn’t tell the word to anyone!”

“No,” she said.

“No one!” he insisted. “They’re dangerous to know, but much more dangerous if you tell anyone.”

“Yes,” she said, not understanding. “I’ll remember.”

He studied her for a moment. “There’s no real defense, Inos, but there is one thing you could do that would help a little. It might make Yggingi hesitate a bit, and it would certainly cut off one line of attack.”

She was totally confused now. “What’s that, Andor?”

“Marry me. There’s a chaplain down there. She can marry us on the spot. Tonight. Now.”

“Andor!” Again she was at a total loss for words. Too many things were happening too quickly. Finally she said, “Dear Andor, that’s a wonderful thought, but I can’t decide something like that right now. And it would put you in danger, also!”

“No!” he said excitedly. He took her hand and began to lead her down the narrow stairway, speaking rapidly as if he were working it all out. “The factor says that Kalkor’s coming to claim the throne. He’ll be here as soon as the ice goes. Kalkor’s a terror. No matter what Yggingi thinks, he’ll wad up those imps and throw them away. But then he’ll want to marry you.”

“I thought he was married already?” she protested, before remembering what Aunt Kade had once told her about Nordlanders.

And Andor now confirmed it. They were already at the bottom of the stairs, outside the door of the withdrawing room, where everyone must still be waiting to hear the proconsul’s terms. “Thanes change wives like shirts. Probably more often. But he can’t marry you if you’re married to me.”

“He could solve that problem!”

“Only if he can find me!” Andor laughed. “I’m a good man at disappearing. Don’t you see, Inos? That’s your escape! Marry me, and I’ll stay out of sight—I promise you I can do that easily enough, but I haven’t got time to explain now. We’ll let the jotnar kill off the imps. Then we’ll go back to the Impire together in the spring!”

Again she wondered why Yggingi was not coming down the stairs after her. “And lose my kingdom? No, darling, I have a duty.”

He smiled, and she heard it more than saw it in the dimness. “Good for you!” he said admiringly. “Inos, I love you! And if the kingdom is what you want, then we’ll have to save it for you—and marrying me is still your best strategy!”