outlaw when first she met him… then general and ultimately lord marshal of a great army… and finally the emperor of Solamnia. A long, long time ago, it seemed, she had agreed to become his wife. The reasons for doing so seemed compelling at the time, since then they were vague and indistinct.
No, she did not love him. And yes, she feared him.
“Hello,” he said. She was aware he was scrutinizing her. His narrowed eyes were dark above the neat beard. She noted more gray along his temples, and in that beard, than she remembered. Had he really changed that much in a fortnight? She watched him closely, saying nothing. She had nothing to say and felt at a loss for words.
“The guards tell me you gave them quite a start.”
“How so?” she asked, feeling a jolt of terror.
“They thought you were in danger, had fallen or suffered some stroke in your sleep. But when they broke in here, after hours of trying to rouse you, you were nowhere to be seen, according to their report.”
“I was…” She faltered. The lie that had diverted the guards would no longer suffice. “I was gone. I traveled to Vingaard. I wanted… I wanted to see firsthand the way you would rule your new, proud nation.”
“Magic?” He frowned then glared. “You teleported! How?”
She didn’t answer but unconsciously placed her left hand over her right, concealing the ring. The quick movement did not pass unnoticed.
“So you have a magic ring,” he declared haughtily. “Don’t you understand the dangers-to yourself? To our child?”
“I felt perfectly safe.”
“I can’t allow you to risk yourself and the baby like this.” He took a step closer. He didn’t appear so much angry as concerned. Holding out his hand, he spoke again, more gently but still firmly. “You can’t do this again; I won’t allow it. Give me the ring.”
“No!” The word exploded from her lips, but Selinda didn’t regret blurting it out. She felt a wave of relief, the first excitement of honesty. She took a step backward, watching him warily.
“Don’t refuse me!” he snapped, his anger starting to flare. “I’ll simply take it from you if I must.”
“No, you won’t do that, either,” Selinda said. She stood at her full height, chin raised. Her fingers touched the little circlet of silver, ready to give it a twist, to activate the magic. “If you try, I promise by all the gods that I will use the ring to go away from here and never return.”
“To where?” he asked, appearing-for the first time ever, in Selinda’s experience-to be stunned.
“I won’t tell you. But I will tell you this: I will not be locked up in this tower, not by you, nor by all the troops in your army.”
He stood staring at her, mute, for what seemed like a long time. Finally he turned and stalked to the door. “This is not the end of this,” he said before marching from the room.
Jaymes was wrapped in a cold fury as he rode out of the Old City, lashing his horse into a gallop, scattering pedestrians out of his path. The steed galloped up Nobles Hill and clattered onto the paved road leading to his destination.
The great manor house was owned by Jenna, Mistress of the Red Robes. The powerful crimson-garbed wizard had been declared head of the Orders of Magic at the momentous Conclave that convened after the gods of magic returned to Krynn. Coryn had helped Jenna attain that vaulted station against the ambitions of Dalamar the Dark, and in gratitude-and genuine friendship-Jenna had offered Coryn stewardship of her magnificent house.
It had been there, in her laboratory, that Coryn made the potion of enchantment Jaymes had used to bewitch Selinda-to woo her love, win her hand, and gain control of her fortune. That seemed like another lifetime, such a distant part of the past that the emperor could almost convince himself that it had never happened. But it had happened. Now, it seemed, his wife had magic on her side.
There, too, the White Witch and a younger Jaymes Markham had shared moments as lovers and friends. They had dreamed of a united Solamnia. That goal was key to their partnership.
Would that dream, too, end in ruin?
The emperor dismounted and stalked to the front door, which opened before he could knock. He halted momentarily at the sight of a young man dressed in the livery of an apprentice Knight of the Crown. A small fuzz of brown fur bristled atop his lip, an overly ambitious attempt at the singular mustache of a proud Solamnic Knight.
“Donny?” Jaymes said, taken aback. It had been more than a year since his last visit there. He was suddenly bemused as he confronted the fellow who was the son of the house’s most venerable servant. “I didn’t know you had taken the Oath.”
“Yes, my lord,” said the young man, beaming. “It’s Sir Donald, now.”
“Excellent. Your father must be very proud.”
“Oh, he is, sir. Most definitely. I’m sure he would love to see you if you have a moment. I can get him right away.”
“Actually, I’m here to see Lady Coryn on a matter of urgency. Where is she?” His voice had suddenly hardened, and the change in his mood did not escape the young knight. Jaymes was surprised to notice a flicker of defiance in Donny’s-Sir Donald’s-face. The young man’s first loyalty was to the mistress of the house, a fact that shouldn’t have been surprising.
“Come in,” the knight said after a moment. “I’ll get her.”
Jaymes waited in the anteroom, looking at those steps he had climbed so many times. The laboratory was up there… and her bedroom too. He had gone to each, in turn, and found strength and renewal with the woman so many knights called the White Witch.
The stairway seemed unusually bright in the afternoon sunlight spilling through the high windows. When Coryn came around the curve on the stairs, he realized that she, not the sun, was the source of the brightness. It was a magical effect, he knew, and resolved not to give her the satisfaction of shielding his eyes.
She halted several steps from the bottom, waiting for him to speak first, and he felt the rise of his anger. He was facing betrayal from women on all sides. Instinctively, he went on the attack.
“You gave a magical ring to my wife, didn’t you?” he began, speaking harshly.
“You locked her up in her room when you left the city.” Her tone was calm. “As if she were a criminal. That was something she clearly did not deserve.”
“It was for her own good!”
“Who are you to judge what is good for the Lady Selinda?” Coryn challenged.
“I thought you were my ally!” Jaymes declared. “We are working together toward a strong Solamnia! Surely you understand the importance of keeping Selinda-and the child she carries-safe!”
“I’m not sure that we agree on what is good for your… wife.” The reply was frank, her tone still cool and unapologetic.
“But everything is going according to plan,” he protested. “We’ve come so far! Six duchies and regencies, united as a nation, facing a future in strength, as an empire! Just as we always hoped.”
“What does that have to do with Selinda, with what you did at Vingaard Keep?” she said. “This is how you make a strong future?”
“It was necessary-”
“It was brutal and short-sighted,” Coryn spat, her calmness shattered like a broken mirror. Her voice caught; tears swam in her eyes. “Much of what you are doing these days is brutal and short-sighted. You don’t have any idea how the people of this nation feel. You want their respect, but all you gain is their fear!”
“You’re the one who doesn’t understand!” he replied. “I have carved a place for myself… and for this land. Turn your back on me, on this land, if you will. I can hold that place by myself.”
“I wish you success in your attempt,” the White Witch replied coldly.
“Do not dare to betray me again!” he warned.
“Go now,” was her only reply.
The last word vanished behind the door the emperor slammed on his way out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
