From Darkness Won Part 2

The man stood. "Grigio Franc, Your Highness."

Shung's six foot plus inched closer to Achan, causing Grigio to shrink a bit.

"Master Franc," Achan said. "You are loyal to your comrade, Bran. This is a deeply admirable trait. But have you bothered to ask his side of this ... situation with Lady Averella?"

"I don't need to ask. I can see it on his face." Grigio glanced at Shung and added, "Your Highness."

Achan paused, curious whether Bran's broken engagement hadn't been as amicable as d.u.c.h.ess Amal had claimed. "Nevertheless, you should speak to Master Rennan before risking your life for his honor. While that in itself is an admirable way to perish, it is a foolish sacrifice when done under mistaken a.s.sumptions. Don't you agree?"

"I..." Grigio's brows wrinkled. "Perhaps."

Achan nodded. "Good enough." He walked away from the benches and the practice field, forcing himself not to limp on his sore leg. Shung tromped at his side.

You will not punish us? Grigio asked.

Achan turned back and met Grigio's wide eyes. Should I? You're a worthy fighter, Master Franc, and fiercely loyal. Killing you would not help me take Armonguard. And I need such hearts as yours at my side. So I give you another chance to correct your misjudgment of me before I cast my final judgment upon you.

Once Achan had cleaned up and changed, he and Shung went to lunch in the great hall. They arrived early for the scheduled meal, but Achan preferred it that way. He'd done his duty by confronting the men on the practice field, so he figured he'd earned a reprieve from making small talk with d.u.c.h.ess Amal's daughters and various other minor n.o.bles.

Shung, as usual, stood against the wall behind Achan, staring ahead like a sentry guard.

Blazes.

"Sit with me, Shung. Surely no one here plans to threaten my life."

"Soldiers on field had motives Shung did not see."

"Don't punish yourself. You are Sir Shung, now. The brave knight who rescued the Crown Prince from a cham bear." Achan had knighted his friend their second day in Carmine. Shung was the first man he'd ever knighted.

"Shung did not slay the beast."

"You slowed it down and have the burn to prove it. And now the t.i.tle too." Which would make Shung worthy to marry Lady Gali, should the man get up the courage to ask. "Now sit and eat with me."

"Forgiveness, Little Cham, but Shung must do his duty."

Achan slouched down in the chair and looked out over the elaborate great hall. They each had a duty, didn't they? And Achan's duty was to be king. King of all Er'Rets. If they won this inevitable war.

Sparrow had always sat with him for breakfast.

Sparrow.

With his bloodvoice, he found her instantly, sensed thick walls around her mind. He wanted to speak, but she'd been ignoring his messages ever since she left Mitspah. Likely still angry over his blunder the last time they'd spoken.

He tried and failed to look through her eyes. He could break into almost any mind with his bloodvoicing power. But not Sparrow's. Hers had always been impenetrable. He sighed. What good would any of this do? Pining away for Sparrow would not loosen the sleeve tied to his arm.

She had made her choice, and so had he.

Achan turned his chair sideways so he could talk to Shung as he ate. "I can think of no engagements set for this afternoon, can you?"

Shung tipped his head, and the circle of carved bone he always wore in his ear rocked. "I cannot."

Finally, some time to himself. One of his advisors would find him soon enough, make him study or drag him into another meeting. But if he could get out now, he might fill part of this day with his own will.

"We shall go to visit Gren and her family," Achan said, pleased with the idea. Months had pa.s.sed since he'd seen his childhood friend.

Shung grunted.

For the next fifteen minutes, Achan ate his fill, and then he pushed his plate away. "I'm ready but will not leave this chair until you eat, Shung."

"Shung cannot s.h.i.+eld when eating."

Achan switched strategies. "But a warrior must eat. At least carry some grapes with you as we walk."

The s.h.i.+eld shook his head. "Shung cannot wield sword with handful of grapes."

Achan blew out a long breath and stood. "Very well. I suppose you can eat at the Fenny home, though they are peasants and likely have little food to spare."

Shung looked over Achan's head, scanning the near deserted great hall, then stepped toward the table and reached for a hard-cooked egg. His sleeve rode up his arm, and Achan caught sight of the scarred skin between sleeve and glove. A cham had breathed fire on Shung's arm. "Will eat this."

"Good enough."

After Shung ate the egg, Achan led him across the great hall to the foyer. His body ached with every movement, sore from his injuries and his exercise on the practice field.

"Good day, Your Highness."

To Achan's left Lady Nitsa Amal, the d.u.c.h.ess of Carm, stood at the foot of the brownstone staircase, her auburn hair sculpted up under a ruby-beaded caul. She wore a blood-red gown trimmed in black and gold embroidery. Her skin was ivory porcelain in the dim light.

He bowed. "Good day, my lady. Has your daughter returned yet?"

She fixed her moss-colored eyes on Achan. "She has not, Your Highness. You are not joining us for lunch?"

"I just finished. I planned to explore the grounds a bit, if you don't mind."

The d.u.c.h.ess's small mouth curved into a smile. "Not at all. I shall not keep you from your schedule."

Achan bowed. "Thank you, my lady. Enjoy your meal."

"I am sure I will, Your Highness."

Achan and Shung exited Granton Castle. The sunny afternoon, chirping birds, and his destination made his burdens lighter. The blended smells of fresh-cut wood, dung, animals, and flowers tickled his nose.

"You ask d.u.c.h.ess Amal same question whenever you see her," Shung said.

Achan shot Shung a quick smile. "I want to meet Lady Averella if I'm to marry her. Is that so shocking?"

Shung grunted. "d.u.c.h.ess will tire of you."

"Good. Perhaps her fatigue will encourage her to draw Lady Averella out long enough to shake my hand." Achan couldn't stand not knowing what this woman looked like. He wasn't about to give up his quest to find out.

They pa.s.sed through the gate to the outer bailey and into a throng of peasants, soldiers, and every sort of barn animal imaginable. Disdain from those around him flooded his senses. Achan met one soldier's frowning gaze and staggered at the hatred pouring from the man. He considered reading the man's thoughts, but Shung tugged his arm, pulling him aside. He narrowly missed treading on a boy carrying a basket of berries.

"Pardon, my lord." The boy bowed and scurried past as if Achan might beat him for being in the way.

Achan couldn't blame him. He'd been cuffed upside the head for the same many times in his youth.

They wove through the outer bailey. Disapproval continued to seep into Achan. He caught sight of two middle-aged women carrying buckets of water, scowling and whispering between themselves. Achan looked into the mind of the one whose eyes he met first and the words she whispered to her counterpart filled his head.

...has no right to come here and take over. I don't care if he's rightful king or not.

And when you consider- Her friend gasped. G.o.ds, no. Look who it is. There'll be a fight now, Kera, just you wait. Who you think'll win?

Achan turned to where the women had focused their attention. A squadron of Carmine soldiers drew near, accompanied by more feelings of animosity. Perhaps Grigio Franc was among them.

A set of familiar eyes met Achan's from within the squadron. Bran Rennan. The squire left the formation, and the soldiers halted. One man glanced at the sleeve on Achan's arm but seemed content to wait and watch.

Achan's own feelings of anger and distrust mingled with those around him, not certain how to feel about Bran Rennan, especially after this morning's altercation.

Bran bowed low and smiled. "Nice to see you again, Your Majesty. Where are you off to?"

Not a shred of the animosity Achan sensed came from Bran. "I plan to visit Grendolyn Fenny," Achan said. "Sir Caleb keeps me busier than a squirrel in fall, and this is the first opportunity I've had since my arrival."

Bran's face tinged pink-at the mention of Gren's name, perhaps?-but he went on as if nothing were amiss. "Do you know the way? If not, I would be happy to take you there."

Achan glanced at Bran's companions and found their disdainful expressions fixed on him. Bran might not be angry, but everyone else seemed to be.

"You're not due elsewhere?" Achan asked.

"I ate in the barracks and was heading to my post."

"And your post is?"

"In the great hall, Your Majesty."

"Lead the way, then, Master Rennan."

Bran waved to the squadron. "I'll be along in a bit." He started toward the southeastern gate. His posture seemed to swell, as if walking alongside Achan were some sort of treat.

Shung followed on Achan's left.

"I'm glad to see you've embraced your calling since last we met, Your Majesty," Bran said.

"If I did not, someone else would have." Achan glanced at Bran. "When do you leave for Armonguard?" For this was one of the first orders Achan had given, that Jax mi Katt, Sir Rigil, and Bran return to Prince Oren to a.s.sist the southern troops and the Marad rebels.

"In the morning." Bran led them over the drawbridge of the southeastern gate and followed a wide path through the surrounding vineyard. The nearly ripe grapes made the air smell sweet. Bees gathered around the bunches of fruit, helping themselves to a taste. Achan followed Bran past three women carrying baskets of grapes. All three glared at Achan.

"For Lightness' sake!" Achan stopped and turned to stare after the women. "What is the matter with everyone?"

"It's my fault, I'm afraid, Your Majesty," Bran whispered. "The people have heard whose token you wear and they feel you have... um... stolen my intended."

"Yes, I am aware of this." Achan huffed a dry laugh. "But Bran... I stole?" He set his hands on his hips.

Soldiers were one thing, but the peasants too? After all the debate over the best match for Achan-to find the lady who could unite the biggest army, the lady Achan was betrothed to nearly against his will-now the people of Carmine thought he had stolen Bran Rennan's love? It was almost funny, especially since Bran had broken his own engagement and stolen the heart of another. Gren Fenny's, to be exact, whom Achan had once longed to wed.

"Well," Achan said, "this is awkward."

Bran looked at his boots. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"I understood you severed your relations.h.i.+p with Lady Averella amicably. Was that not the case?"

"As well as I could. But the people were not told."

For who would tell them? n.o.bles did not make a habit of announcing their decisions to every peasant in their manor. Still. "Rumor has not circulated?"

"It has, but..." He lowered his voice. "Forgive me. The people think I'm covering for the d.u.c.h.ess. That she withdrew her consent to make a better match for Averella."

Averella. So informal. A long history of friends.h.i.+p, likely. Similar to what Achan and Gren shared, perhaps. Achan struggled for words that would not insult Bran or Lady Averella. "It is not my wish to marry anyone. I-"

"Completely understood, Your Majesty," Bran said. "I know you did not choose Averella for yourself."

"I would never knowingly take another man's love."

Bran's complexion darkened. The comment had been cruel, perhaps. An unnecessary stab. Achan had no future with Gren Fenny-Hoff. He shook the thought away. But Bran had courted Gren, ignorantly perhaps, but still knowing that Achan had loved her.

Bran took a long breath and bowed his head. "You are a n.o.ble man, Your Highness."

In word alone. If Bran could bloodvoice, he'd sense how ign.o.ble Achan's thoughts were at present. Oh, pig snout. He did not want an enemy in Bran. He had few friends, as it was. Maybe asking Bran's aid could soften this awkwardness between them. "I should like to meet Lady Averella. She has not returned from her latest hideaway, and the d.u.c.h.ess thinks it a dangerous time for her to travel. Tell me, is she comely?"

Bran opened his mouth but did not respond. Then he blinked. "She is beautiful, Your Highness. But I do not know her whereabouts."

They walked again. Bran's claim of Lady Averella's beauty did not mollify Achan. Lady Jaira was beautiful. On the surface. "May I ask what happened between you?"

"We... grew apart."

"We? Don't you mean you?" In all his time spent protecting Gren.

"No, Your Majesty." Bran met Achan's eyes briefly. "It turns out, absence does not always make the heart grow fonder. Sometimes the opposite is true. Averella... She found someone else."

Wonderful. So Achan was now betrothed to a lady who loved another. "A lot of that going around."

"Yes," Bran said. "I..."

Achan waited, but Bran seemed reluctant to say what was on his mind. "You what?"

Bran swallowed and shuffled his feet on the dirt path. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I have no understanding with..." He glanced at Achan, then off into the vineyard, cheeks flushed worse than a scandalized maiden. "I made no promise to Madam Hoff. Though I may have unintentionally encouraged her affection, and for that I beg your forgiveness. It was never my motive to woo her."

Achan's jaw stiffened. He glanced at Shung, who stared at the castle as if Achan and Bran didn't exist. "And now?"

Bran straightened, full of courage. "Only with your blessing, Your Highness."