Treason Keep

matter. Then he added, almost as an afterthought, “Another thing, I will require you to order your Guard to place themselves under my command. I will be taking them to the front with me.”

“Oh no you won’t! My father never gave you leave to use my Guard in battle. They are under my command.”

“Then you will command them according to my wishes.”

“The Seven Hells I will! My Guard isn’t going anywhere without me, least of all to some soggy battlefield to fight your wars for you.”

“As you wish, Adrina,” Cratyn shrugged. “If you insist, you will accompany your Guard, but they will fight.”

“How in the name of the gods do you plan to make me order them into battle? I’ll die before I give such an order.”

Cratyn placed the cup down carefully and crossed his arms as he studied her. “You swear by the Primal gods. That is an offence punishable by death. You are my wife and have sworn to obey me in the eyes of my God and every nobleman in Yarnarrow. To defy me is punishable by death. If that does not convince you, I am sure it will only take your bastard half-brother and his pagans a few days to break some church law punishable by death.”

“You hypocritical son-of-a-bitch! You have the gall to preach piety to me yet you would calmly murder my brother in the name of your pitiful god!”

“Be careful, Adrina,” Cratyn warned. “Insulting the Overlord is punishable —”

“By death,” she finished impatiently. “I get the idea, your Highness.”

“Then you will do as I command?”

Adrina could barely credit the change in him. He seemed so sure of himself, here in Yarnarrow. The blushing princeling who had almost fainted at the sight of the barely dressed Fardohnyan women was still there, underneath the confident exterior, but this was his God speaking. His faith ran so deep it was impossible to shake his belief that everything would turn out as Xaphista willed it. As the realisation came to her, Adrina forced her anger down. She could not fight this by having a tantrum. She needed to have her wits about her to find a way out of this terrible bargain.

“I have conditions,” she said.

“I have no need to grant you anything, Adrina.”

“No, you don’t,” she agreed. “But you want my cooperation, and believe me, I am much more tractable when I have my own way.”

He nodded slightly. “As you wish, what are your conditions?”

Adrina’s mind was racing ahead, trying to think what she could ask for that would not raise suspicion. “If I am to accompany you to the Medalon border, I wish to do so in a manner befitting my station as your wife. I want my full retinue, including my ladies-in-waiting.” There! Let’s see how your precious Chastity likes roughing it on the front with a few thousand smelly soldiers, she thought.

“I believe that can be arranged,” he conceded. “Was that all?”

“No. I want to be included in your war council. I will not allow you to waste Fardohnyan lives without being fully informed as to your plans.”

“Absolutely not! A council of war is no place for a woman.”

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged. “If you refuse me, then I will stand up at dinner tonight and scream at the top of my voice that Xaphista is a lying, hypocritical bastard. Somewhat like you, I imagine. Such an act would be punishable by death, would it not? If I die, you’ll have no heir to the Fardohnyan throne and no troops to throw at the Medalonians. If you think I’m bluffing, then by all means, refuse me.”

He thought for a moment, weighing up, no doubt, the advisability of calling her bluff, against the reaction of his Dukes to a woman in their war council.

Finally he nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Very well.”

“And one other thing,” she added as an afterthought. “I want every Fardohnyan under my command given special exemption by the Church. As you pointed out, they are bound to break some unknown Church law, sooner or later. It will be a lot easier for both of us if you don’t whittle away at their numbers by hanging every transgressor for some slight, real or imagined, against your precious god.”

Although he bristled at her tone, he was not so foolish as to deny the logic of her request. He nodded.

“That’s it then,” she said. “I will do as you ask.” For now, she amended silently.

“I have some conditions of my own,” Cratyn told her as she turned away.

“Such as?”

“You will never dress in such a provocative manner again. You will behave in a manner befitting a Karien Princess, or, Fardohnyan heir or not, I will see you stoned.”

“Of course, your Highness,” she agreed, her voiced laced with sarcasm. “Perhaps a hair shirt would be more suitable?”

He ignored the jibe. “And you will not speak to your half-brother, or any of your Guard unless Vonulus is present. I will not have you making your own plans behind my back.”

Now that could prove awkward, she thought in annoyance, but she did not see a way around it. “You show a disturbing lack of trust in me, your Highness.”

“A warranted lack of trust,” he retorted. “Do you agree?”

She nodded slowly. “I agree.”

“Good. In that case, you may return to your rooms and dress in something more... appropriate... for dinner. Tomorrow, I will have the nuns sent to you, to discuss the most opportune time in your cycle to consummate our marriage. I do not intend to spend one moment longer in your bed than I have to.”

Of all that had been said in the past hour, that shocked her the most. It even hurt! How dare he!

“Just be sure that when you do deign to come to my bed, you have some idea of what you’re supposed to do,” she retorted coldly. “As you apparently know, I have been taught the art of lovemaking by professionals. It would be most unfortunate if your much-needed heir to the Fardohnyan and Karien thrones fails to be consummated because I couldn’t stop laughing.”

The insult hit the mark as she intended, but she swept up her skirts and strode from the room before he had a chance to answer her.

Chapter 16

For longer than human memory, Sanctuary had remained hidden in the mountains named for it. It had weathered nature’s inevitable passage of time, untouched by anything but the magical peace and serenity that seeped through its very walls. The vast white-spired complex had watched ages come and go, kingdoms rise and fall, mortals live and die. The gods roamed its halls at will and the Harshini who lived there sought nothing more than wisdom and knowledge and safety from the foibles of humanity.

Nothing had ever disturbed it.

Until now.

Until the demon child.

Brakandaran heard the laughter as he approached Korandellan’s chambers and winced. It wasn’t that nobody laughed in Sanctuary, on the contrary, the Harshini were happy by nature. But this was not the polite, considerate laugh of an amused Harshini. This laugh was loud and heartfelt and unmistakably female. The laughter echoed through the halls with startling clarity, turning the heads of the white robed Harshini who glided silently past him in the hall. Their black eyes were either curious or indulgent, depending on whether or not they had any knowledge of its source.

Brak hurried on, almost afraid to discover the reason for the demon child’s mirth. Korandellan was a tolerant king – he had ruled the Harshini through some of its most turbulent history – but he was ill-equipped to handle