Shadow's master

Then she felt herself lifted down from the saddle. Brian's arms were around her. He smelled of leather and sweat. Bright golden motes swam before her eyes, but she saw Hirsch's face above her. Someone called for her physician. The pain was getting worse. Josey focused on her breathing-smooth and deep, in and out-as the world shrunk around her.

Josey held her breath as the listening horn's cold mouth passed over the bulge of her bare stomach, slowly back and forth and then up past her navel to the edge of the gown she held under her breasts. Goose pimples covered her arms and legs despite the heat of the three braziers in the tent. Looking down at her state of undress, she wondered why she wasn't blushing like a maiden. But, of course, it was just Doctor Krav. Still, she was quick to pull down her clothing when he turned around.

“Is everything all right?” she asked. “With the baby?”

The doctor cleared his throat as he put his instruments away. He wore the same black suit-a coat and trousers with a white shirt, shoes polished to a bright sheen-as the day he had discovered her pregnancy. How does he keep so clean on the road? “Doctor?”

“Yes,” he answered. “The child appears healthy. A little underweight, but that is normal under such trying circumstances.”

He looked down his long nose at her in a way that made her feel guilty. Josey started working on the ties of her dress.

“But,” he continued, “Your Majesty needs to slow down for the sake of the life you carry. Too much riding and exercise aren't good for you at this stage. I recommend bed rest for the majority of your day, with brief walks every three to four hours to circulate the blood. And you could do with a richer diet, as well.”

Horns sounded in the distance. Josey's heart thumped hard. Had the fighting begun? “I will, Doctor, but right now I have a battle to fight, and I can't do that from my bed. Will my baby be all right if…?” She didn't know how to ask it. How far could she push herself and still be safe? It seemed harsh, even cruel, but lives were at stake.

Doctor Krav regarded her for a span of several heartbeats, and then said, “A little more activity should not be harmful, provided that you are careful and take numerous rests-whenever you can.”

“I will. I promise. Thank you.”

With a nod, the doctor exited her tent. Iola entered before the flap settled. “Is everything all right, Majesty?”

“Yes, it's fine. Please have Lightning brought around for me.”

The girl bobbed a short curtsy and started to leave, but Josey stopped her. She thought of Doctor Krav's advice. “Wait. Make that a wagon. And inform Captain Drathan I'll be returning to the battlefield.”

Iola paused at the door. “Majesty, I couldn't help overhearing-”

Josey hadn't even considered her conversation with the doctor might be overheard. Of course, she should have. This was a military camp, not the palace. And even back in Othir she might have been more careful.

“I didn't mean to,” Iola said. “But then he-the doctor-said something about the baby's heartbeat and I couldn't help myself. I'm too nosy. I know that, Majesty. If you wish to dismiss me, I will-”

Josey sighed. “Nonsense. I'm sure my maids back home have been listening to my conversations since the day I moved into the palace.” This time she did blush, imagining what Margaret and Amelia might have heard on the night she allowed Caim to seduce her. Or had she seduced him? “Please, just fetch the wagon and Captain Drathan.”

Josey sat back on the bed cushion. She was considering how she could balance her pregnancy and the coming war when the clatter of heavy wheels rolled up outside. She got up as Iola returned with a heavy coat in hand. Josey shrugged into it, thanking her, and went out. The cold struck her as soon as she passed through the door flap. The sun hid behind a bank of fluffy gray clouds. Please let it rain. It might slow our enemies and give us more time to prepare.

The wagon was built to carry freight, and there was no place else to sit except on the high bench seat beside the drover, a white-haired man with a thick mustache and bangs that hung down over his eyes. He also had unusually large ears. Josey allowed a guardsman to assist her into the seat. Once she was settled and her bodyguard in place, the drover got the vehicle under way. The ride was a bumpy nightmare, shaking Josey so hard her teeth chattered. This is better for the baby than riding?

By the time they reached the hilltop overlooking the field, Josey was eager to get away from the wooden torture device. She jumped down before her guards could assist. Brushing past their outreached hands, she climbed to the crest of the hill where Brian sat on horseback, alone.

Josey pursed her lips as she approached. She hadn't forgiven his earlier comments. Of all the people here, I thought he would understand. He loves his subjects as I love them. Heavens, why did he have to ruin it? She almost tripped as the thought wormed inside her skull. Ruin what? What was developing between them? Josey didn't know. Or I am too afraid to dwell on it?

Swallowing her thoughts, and finding them a bitter medicine, Josey walked up beside Brian. What she saw below made her forget him for a moment. The site had been transformed in the short time she was away. Instead of a few scattered pits, an entire trench had been carved into the ground across the southern end of the field, complete with waist-high earthworks and a fence of sharpened stakes. Three rope-driven siege engines stood behind the trench. They were crude compared to the clean lines of the scorpions guarding the walls of the imperial palace, but looked deadly nonetheless. The troops were assembled in columns as their officers went down the lines, making changes as required. It was starting to look like the plan Argentus had described to her. Perhaps this will turn out better than I feared.

Captain Drathan and his men fanned out around the hilltop. Brian dismounted when he saw Josey and made a small bow. “Majesty, I apologize if I spoke poorly before.”

“You were out of line,” she answered, perhaps a bit too sharply. But he deserves it.

“Yes, I was. I hope this can make up for my lack of manners.”

He held up a dagger. Silver wire wrapped around its handle, curling down to a wide guard. The wooden scabbard was almost as long as her forearm.

Is this a joke? “A knife, Sir Brian?”

“When knights ride in tourney, it is customary to wear the token of their ladies. But I would not presume to ask for your favor. Instead, I give you my token to wear, if you will. For luck.”

He drew the dagger. The fading sunlight caught the blade's milky gray steel. “This dagger was one of twelve forged at the order of King Guldrien of Aquidon and given to his Knights Brethren before they rode for the last time.”

Josey knew the story of King Guldrien and the Knights Brethren, how the doomed monarch and his loyal companions rode out to meet the might of the fledgling Nimean Empire, and died for their bravery. Afterward, Nimea had absorbed Aquidon and divided it into the provinces of…

Aquos and Farridon. Oh, dear gods. In an instant, Josey understood how she had mismanaged her dealings with Brian's father and Count Sarrow. All this time she had been treating them like just another pair of squabbling nobles, forgetting the history of these northern provinces. “Brian, your father and the count don't care about water rights or boundaries, do they?”

Brian's eyes were splinters of blue steel as he sighed. “Now that the empire is fraught with turmoil, they both dream of breaking away and restoring the old kingdom of Aquidon. Only they cannot agree which of them should rule. Forgive me, Majesty. Though I do not share my father's dream, I could not bring myself to betray him.”

Josey took the dagger, which was lighter than she anticipated. “You didn't betray him. He is your lord and father.”

“He is a traitor.”

“I will consider what's to be done with him, but I still have every faith in you.” Josey sheathed the dagger with reverence. “As for this, I will wear it proudly.”

“Then I will ride to battle with a glad-”

A horn blared, and Josey's throat closed up. Down below, soldiers rushed to their positions along the trench and officers shouted. She followed their pointing fingers across the field. At first she couldn't see anything in the gathering twilight. Then a line of shapes emerged from the dusk. Men and horses, they came by the scores and then the hundreds. Fingers of dread clutched Josey's insides as the invading host grew before her eyes. There had