He rolled onto his back again. 'Morning?'
'Afternoon.'
'Want to be telling me what happened?'
Justice nodded. 'Noticed you going out. The weaselly little Branch followed. Time I got out, you'd been drug off a-ways. Rufus was a-jawing at you. He went to shoot you, but I shot him first.'
'Kill him?'
'Hit him in his sit-down parts. He done run off while I took care of his brothers. The weasel's dead. Gutted him. Other one will probably live, but ain't going to be using his right arm none.' Justice shrugged. 'Men choosing up a squad to be going after Rufus.'
'Tell 'em no.' Nathaniel had to catch his breath. 'I will be finding him.'
'I reckoned you'd say that. Trib told them all we was having to wait for you to give your blessing.' Justice smiled. 'The Prince, he done figured what they poisoned you with. Make you drink a tea of crushed charcoal and bitterroot. Stunk to heaven. You threw up a bit. Got you cleaned up and put to bed.'
'Thank you.'
'I told you I would be watching out.'
'You did.' Nathaniel nodded slowly. 'You hear what Rufus said?'
'Didn't need to. I seen enough to know. What you want to do about it is your business. Want help, I'm in.'
Nathaniel nodded. He could lay charges against Zachariah Warren and most all folks would believe him. But a jury would hear Warren deny he had ever hired Rufus to do anything. Some would think that Warren was defending his wife's honor against Nathaniel's advances. Even those who knew the true story would still be thinking Nathaniel had brought this on himself.
'I reckon I will be thinking on that for a bit.' He smiled. 'Which cheek?'
'Left.'
'I once shot him in the right.' Nathaniel laughed. 'Next time, more to the center, and a lot higher.'
Chapter Sixty-Seven
September 17, 1764
Temperance, Temperance Bay, Mystria
W ith their desire to be home swiftly, the Mystrian troops set out from Hattersburg on the fourteenth and made very good time along the road they had previously hacked out of the wilderness. The wounded-including Caleb Frost and escorted by Princess Gisella-traveled ahead down the river on barges and then by ship to Temperance. The wounded reached Temperance before the bulk of the Norillian cavalry, though Rivendell and his staff joined them on board.
Owen remained in Prince Vlad's party, on orders from Rivendell. Rivendell even gave him Hodge Dunsby as his aide, as the bantam soldier had been by his side constantly. Rivendell clearly intended to write up reports casting Owen in an extremely negative light, but Owen had moved past caring.
He had come to Mystria in hopes of doing his duty and perhaps winning enough fame and glory that he and his wife could become free of his family. He had accomplished his goal and more, but not in the way he had hoped. He realized this as he walked with men-some of whom, though wounded, refused to admit they were hurt-and sail home. These men had taken up arms against an enemy even though fighting was neither their profession, nor had they trained at it. They responded to a call to handle a situation that threatened everyone. For them, it wasn't a quest for personal glory or treasure or fame. That wasn't to say that some hadn't also hoped to prove something to themselves or others, but those personal motives had been subordinated to the betterment of all.
What struck him most strongly was the affection he felt for these men. The Mystrians had accepted him and Dunsby not because of Owen's connection to the Prince, but because of what they had done in the fight. He and Dunsby had bearded the lion in his den. They had forced du Malphias to surrender. And Owen had done it dressed like one of them, not some arrogant, no-good Norillian officer!
My future, if it is anywhere, is here, in Mystria.
That realization filled him with dread. Catherine loved him, but he wasn't sure she could come to love Mystria. The land demanded more of its people than she could ever give. If he wanted to keep her, he would have to return to Norisle and a life he hated. It would tear his heart out. Here I am home.
The idea that he had to choose between his wife's happiness and his own filled Owen with melancholy. He feared she was slipping away-and the haunting vision he'd had of her while on the winding path seemed likely. While letters from their loved ones in Temperance had caught up with soldiers in Hattersburg, she had sent him nothing. Does she know what I am thinking?
Nathaniel caught up to him, still looking gaunt. 'Bit of a long face you have there, Captain.'
Owen forced a smile. 'Never a good moment when a man's on the horns of a dilemma. No matter what choice I make, it will hurt.'
'My pap said them choices is what puts hair on your chest.'
'And white into your hair.' The Norillian frowned. 'My wife will never stay in Mystria. I don't want to leave. I see now what you see in this land, Nathaniel, thanks to you.'
Nathaniel snorted. 'You'da gone done and see it for yourself, Captain. You're a smart fellow.'
'But not smart enough to make this choice.' Owen sighed. 'What would you do?'
'I wouldn't be so damned foolish as to ask romantical advice from me.' The man's eyes tightened. 'You love someone and you love this land. I love this land and another man's wife. Don't knows I could make a choice 'tween 'em. Tough choice.'
'That isn't much help.'
'Iffen you don't mind me asking, why is it you love your wife?'
That question gave Owen a start. 'She's my wife.'
'That's saying a fish likes water on account of he's wet.'
'Why do I love her?' Owen smiled. 'Her smile. The way she makes me feel wanted and included. She loves me, makes me smile when I think of her.'
'All positive points, I reckon. And you think she won't take to Mystria?'
'She might eventually come to see its beauty.' Owen shook his head. 'But that would require her getting out into the country. That will never happen.
'Might not. But I reckon you need to ask yourself if she would ever want to see the beauty. Nothing against your wife, but iffen she can't see it, or won't see it, yours ain't a fight can be won. Most all us redemptioneers came here because we had nothing back there.' Nathaniel shrugged. 'Iffen her life is back there, ain't never she gonna be happy here.'
Owen chuckled. 'That's fairly insightful romantical advice.'
'Just talking about human nature.' Nathaniel pointed to the men marching in front of them. 'They all went and fought Queen Margaret's war here. They figure they done earned some praise and a reward. Ain't gonna get it, on account of the Queen and men like Rivendell have their lives over there. What we see they cain't. They don't want to. You have seen, and you is going to have to decide where your life is.'
The Norillian nodded. He wanted to stay, and divorce wasn't an option. At best he could send her back to Norisle and visit, but what kind of a life would that be for either of them? If he remained he would never take another wife. He would never dishonor Catherine that way.
Owen signed. 'I made my commitment to Catherine before I ever came to Mystria. I shall hate leaving this beautiful country.'
Nathaniel patted him on the shoulder. 'Leastways your wife is nearly as pretty.'
'Yes, she is.' Owen sighed again. If his uncle had been telling the truth about the land grant and title, he'd opt for a place in Temperance Bay, as close to the Prince's estate as he could get. He'd keep it as a preserve and every three years or so would come for a season or two. Catherine would doubtlessly choose to remain in Norisle. But I can bring my children, and they can grow to love Mystria.
That thought brought a smile to his face. He had come to win glory, and yet in Mystria had found something else to love. The sheer physical beauty and fecundity of the land could not be matched anywhere in Norisle. The
