Shadow's master

us.”

“Very nice of you, lad, but-,” Hirsch started to say.

Is he asking to escort me out? Fighting back the sudden flush of heat that rose to her cheeks, Josey considered the ramifications of her answer. If she accepted, she had no doubt that news of their outing would soon be wagging from every tongue in the castle, and she had enough problems on her plate to add romantic gossip on top of it all. Yet if she declined, she could lose a potential ally in these mediations. And he was rather handsome, in a rawboned kind of way. “That sounds pleasant. But Master Hirsch will have to remain here.”

Hirsch frowned. “I will? Ah, yes. I will because…”

“Because you are now officially charged with handling these talks,” Josey said.

The adept's frown deepened. “Excellent. I will, of course, endeavor to follow your fine example.”

Josey crossed the room and took Brian's elbow. “Yes, see that you do.”

She pulled on Brian's arm, forcing the young lord to keep up with her. She couldn't wait to get out of this dreary place. They rode out of the castle surrounded by thirty men of her bodyguard. The day was warm. The sun shone through gaps in the gray clouds. Once they were on the road, Josey loosened the reins and allowed Lightning to gallop. Brian was at ease on his white gelding. He gazed over at her and smiled. He had a kind smile.

“Come on!” Josey shouted, and turned Lightning off the road into a broad dirt field.

She closed her eyes as the cool air rushed through her hair. Lightning appeared to enjoy it, too, running with abandon. As they neared a low stone wall, she reined him in to a trot. The others caught up with the clank of armor and bouncing weapons.

Sergeant Trenor, who was in charge of this detachment, frowned as he rested the stock of his crossbow against his thigh. “Majesty, I didn't know you were practicing for a race, or I'd have brought my riding breeches.”

Josey ran her fingers through her hair. “I'm sorry, Sergeant. It won't happen again.”

Brian didn't look to be out of breath in the least. In fact, a healthy glow flushed his cheeks, which bristled with a fine down of whiskers.

Does he have to be so…rugged? “And I apologize to you, sir. This was supposed to be an official tour, not a free-for-all.”

“I didn't mind.” He patted his horse's muscular neck. “Manfred and I could use the exercise.”

Josey leaned down. “Manfred, meet Lightning. Now, my lord, where are you taking me?”

Brian pointed over the wall. “With your permission, Majesty, I'd like to show you our northern range, but it's a bit of a ride.”

Josey looked to her guard. “Is that all right with you, Sergeant?”

“As you will, Majesty.”

“Then lead the way, Sir Brian.”

They rode side by side along a wide pasture enclosed by trees. Beyond them, low brown hills ringed the land on all sides except to the west, where the plains ran for miles and miles all the way to a faint green line against the horizon. Brian found a country lane winding northward, and they followed it at a leisurely walk. As they rode, Josey caught herself stealing glances at the young lord. Stop it before he notices! And what about Caim? Have you forgotten him? Of course, she hadn't. He crashed through her mind every time she looked at herself in the mirror and saw the growing bulge in her belly, every night when she closed her eyes and wondered how she was going to cope with being a mother. Damn him for leaving us. This is his fault. If he had stayed… What? They would be a happy couple? Even she didn't believe that, not in her wildest fantasies.

They chatted as the sun drifted across the sky. Unlike most of the men she'd met, Brian didn't spend the time talking about himself. He asked her questions about her life, about Othir and what it was like to become the empress. Soon she found herself telling him about Hubert and Anastasia and the goings-on at court, but she avoided the circumstances under which she had gained her crown, and for no good reason that she could fathom. He was sure to have heard the story by now. But it was Caim again. She shied away from anything that remotely touched on their relationship.

“Majesty,” Brian said after they'd ridden a furlong in silence. “You've been quiet.”

Josey forced a smile. “I'm enjoying the peace. This is a lovely place.”

They approached a narrow creek. Beyond the sun-dappled waters, emerald-green meadowlands rose in a gentle slope to the distant hills. The wild grasses waved in the breeze. It was a breathtaking sight.

“These are all your family's lands?”

Brian guided his horse into the creek. “Yes. They have been for generations. One of my ancestors did a service for an emperor-Klinus, I think-and was given this entire range, all the way to the Wolfork.”

“And where does Count Sarrow's demesne begin?”

Brian pointed east past a low chain of hummocks blanketed in cottonwood and elm trees. “Farridon lies beyond those peaks. The river is the property line as my father reckons it. Though the count disputes that, of course.”

Of course. Josey tried to get a sense of the lands they were talking about. It was flat with plenty of sunlight and access to water, but most of it was going unused. “Your family is blessed. This looks to be good farmland.”

“It's one of the reasons I've brought up to my father. This fighting is pointless. We have more land than we can work already. But he's stubborn, as you might have noticed. He'll die before he lets someone else claim a sliver of his property.”

Looking out over the Therbolds' grand demesne, Josey got an idea, but she kept it to herself. She needed to see more of this region and what it had to offer. If there were more lands such as this in the empire, then they had overlooked a vast opportunity.

While Brian pointed out landmarks and unique features of this land, Josey was content to watch and listen to the love in his voice. Growing up in so many places when she was young-Highavon and Navarre, and then the manor in Othir-she'd never felt such a keen connection to the places she called home.

She was relaxed, gazing to the hilltops, as Brian reined up. Josey turned with a smile, expecting another illuminating detail from him. What she saw punched the air from her lungs.

It had once been a village. The outlines of homes and other structures remained, anchored in the red earth amid tumbled stone blocks and blackened timbers. Josey wanted to turn away, but she forced herself to look. There were no bodies evident-thank the heavens-but in her mind's eye she saw the violence that had caused this devastation.

“This was one of our settlements,” Brian said. His voice was low, almost a whisper, stripped of its earlier vitality. “Thirty families transplanted from our western lands to tend flocks here. By the time we got the warning that the northerners had come, it was already over. Only a handful survived.”

The pain of the disaster was etched into his face. His gloves creaked as his hands gripped the reins tight. “Between Sarrow and the northerners, so much blood has been spilt over a parcel of land. This is no way for our people to live. One way or another, these feuds must end.”

Josey nodded, afraid to offer a smile for fear he might misinterpret it. “Then that's what we'll do.”

The clap of hoofbeats sounded behind them. Sergeant Trenor wheeled his steed around to face the lone horse galloping toward their position. Josey recognized Iola in the saddle by her long auburn hair peeking from under the hood.

The girl stopped smoothly before them. “Your Majesty, Master Hirsch sent me to ask you back to the castle. There's news from the north.”

Josey's heart thudded hard against her riding corset. Was it about Caim? Sawing on the reins, she kicked Lightning into a gallop. She didn't wait for her guards or Brian and Iola as she raced back.

She slid down from Lightning the moment they entered the castle's tight courtyard, with the soldiers of her bodyguard rumbling in behind her. A hundred worries crowded her thoughts as she hurried to the oaken doors. Sergeant Trenor and his men had caught up by the time she entered the atrium with its bare stone walls.

“Majesty,” the sergeant whispered. “Please, allow us to properly conduct you-”

But she was rushing past the suits of archaic armor flanking the entry to the long central hall. Hirsch turned as she entered. Sarrow and Therbold were in attendance as well, all of them standing around a man sitting in a