Sharon Shinn - Reader And Raelynx

Kirra’s eyes grew huge. “What about Lowell? The flighty little serramarra I talked to last was no match for the cold Gisseltess man.”

“It’s an interesting tale-ask her yourself. But she’s no longer a serramarra, more’s the pity. Els died a week ago. She’s marlady now.”

“I must hear this story,” Kirra declared. “But first, tell me, how is Lyrie? Still well, I hope?”

Ariane’s smile came back. “Strong and lively and smart, smart, smart. My favorite of all my grandchildren, though I know I shouldn’t say it. She speaks of you often, and the time you turned her into a dog to save her life. If she could figure out a way to make herself magic, she would do it. I think her greatest disappointment is that she is so ordinary.”

Kirra laughed. “I didn’t think she was ordinary at all.”

“No,” said Ariane, “and I don’t, either.”

“Let’s go talk to Mayva,” Senneth said. “I want to hear her story.”

One of Ariane’s captains returned. “Marlady,” he said, casting a wide-eyed glance at her unconventional visitors. “We’d best be on the move again.”

Ariane nodded. “Find my friends a couple of horses and let them ride with us awhile.”

In a few moments, Senneth and Kirra were mounted, the whole army was on the march, and Ariane was leading them to the head of the column. Yes, there was the wheat-and-ochre flag that Donnal had described. Riding a few feet behind it was Mayva Nocklyn.

She looked very little like the shallow and impatient young woman Senneth had met several times before. Her face was still round and childlike, but the sulky expression was gone, replaced by a look of deep sadness. Instead of curling in ringlets around her face, her dark hair was pulled back and tied with a plain scarf. The full lips looked like they had not smiled in a very long time.

Kirra cantered up alongside her. “Mayva! What are you doing so far from home, riding in the company of soldiers?”

Mayva’s face showed first astonishment and then real pleasure. “ Kirra? How did you get here? I did not see you arrive! Oh-I suppose you flew in, like a butterfly or a bird or something like that.”

Kirra laughed. “Something like that,” she said. “Mayva, you remember Senneth Brassenthwaite, do you not? I brought her with me.”

“Oh-serra-of course,” Mayva said as Senneth rode up on the other side of Kirra. “Why have you come? Both of you?”

Senneth answered. “We heard rumors of a Nocklyn army on the move and we had to make sure it was coming to help us, not harm us.”

Mayva’s pretty face tightened. “If my husband were here, he would be leading Nocklyn troops to Ghosenhall to try to push the princess off the throne.”

Kirra looked around as if in surprise. “Yes,” she said. “Where is Lowell?”

Mayva’s chin lifted. “In a common prison cell in Nocklyn Towers.”

Kirra practically choked. “Mayva, what happened? You always seemed so-well-I thought you allowed Lowell to make many of the decisions in your House.”

“He killed my father,” Mayva said.

Kirra was horrified. “No! I thought-Els has been sick for a long time-”

“Poisoned,” Mayva said in the bleakest voice imaginable. “I discovered it quite by accident. My father had gotten much worse, and I had brought a woman in to watch him during the nights. One evening I spent a few hours at his bedside, but he never woke up. The nurse said I looked sickly, too, and I said my head was aching. I said I would return to my room and take some powdered silwort. And she said, ‘Oh, serra, that’s no good for pain. That’s only something you spread on a wound to fight infection.’ ”

“It is,” Kirra said. “It works marvelously well, but if you swallow it-” She shuddered. “You’d need to take a lot to die from it, though.”

Mayva nodded. “Indeed you would. A lot over a long period of time. Lowell had been feeding it to my father for months.”

“But-surely-I mean, didn’t you hire doctors?” Senneth asked. She was trying to keep an accusatory tone from her voice, but no one could have been that stupid. “I know Lowell would not have allowed a mystic healer in the House, but there are trained physicians-”

“There most certainly are,” Mayva said in a flat voice. “We brought in the best. All the way from Gissel Plain. Nocklyn doctors weren’t good enough for my father, Lowell said.”

“Wild Mother watch me,” Kirra murmured. “There’s a cruel and cold-blooded man.”

“So cruel,” Mayva said. “So cold.”

“What did you do?” Senneth asked.

“I did not want to let Lowell know that I suspected something was wrong. A troop of Gisseltess guards had been brought in recently, ostensibly to help keep order if there was any unrest among the vassals-as there has been so much unrest at other Houses. I did not want to accuse Lowell and have him call his soldiers against me. But I knew my father had always completely trusted the captain of his guards. I had never dealt with Worton much-I had never thought about swords and soldiers! Why should I? I left such things to my husband-but I sought him out that night once Lowell had gone to sleep.” She laughed mirthlessly. “You will not be surprised to learn that he despised Lowell. He was happy to see me there, eager to swear fealty. He picked five of his best men and followed me back to the rooms I shared with my husband. They kept Lowell under guard for the next few days while I rode to the homes of my father’s favorite vassals. None of them, as it turned out, cared much for my husband. All of them were willing to organize their own house guards and send a small army back with me to overcome the Gisseltess men camped in my courtyard.”

“Mayva-I’m astonished and humbled and proud,” Kirra said, leaning over to squeeze the marlady’s hand. “I don’t know that I could have been so clever or so fearless! How brave you were!”

“I didn’t feel brave,” Mayva said. “I felt afraid. I was sick to my stomach the whole time I was riding for help.”

“I know that feeling well,” Senneth said quietly. “But tell us the rest of the story. Your father could not recover from the effects of the poisoning?”

Mayva shook her head. She was trying very hard not to cry. “Of course he received no more silwort! But his body was too weak. I thought-if there had been a mystic nearby-perhaps magic would have saved him. But all the mystics have been chased out of Nocklyn by Coralinda Gisseltess-and my own husband. There was no one left to save my father. And he died.”

“Oh, Mayva, I am so sorry,” Kirra murmured.

Mayva’s chin came up. “So I am marlady now. And I must decide so many things. It is very hard, and I honestly don’t know that I can manage. But I knew I must support the princess in this war. If my husband was in favor of it, it must be wrong.” She shivered. “Besides, Coralinda Gisseltess tried to murder my cousin’s son.”

“No!” Kirra exclaimed. “Tell me what happened!”

“He’s just a little boy-but he’s a mystic, you know. He was staying with my aunt and uncle, and Coralinda sent her soldiers out to burn down the house. It was a miracle that he escaped-a miracle that some kind man found him on the road and took him to safety. My aunt and uncle are dead, of course.” She paused a moment to get her voice back under control. “Lowell told me the story wasn’t true-that my cousin had made it up to try to discredit the Lestra. Houses burn down all the time, he said, and it’s nobody’s fault. But I believe she did it. And if my husband defends Coralinda Gisseltess-well, then, I want to destroy her.” Impatiently she brushed at her cheeks. “So I have come to fight for Amalie.”