Keziah blushed. “You’re too kind, Your Majesty.”
The king cleared his throat, standing once more and facing Grinsa. “If you need anything for her, anything at all…”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Kearney cast one last look at his archminister, then motioned to the others standing around her. “Come. Let’s leave the gleaner to his work.”
Tavis and the others followed the king as he walked a short distance from Keziah and Grinsa.
“Tell me what happened, First Minister,” Kearney said, looking at Fotir.
“Grinsa asked me to keep watch on her, Your Majesty. He expected something like this might happen. I saw them taking her south from the camp and followed at a distance, afraid of alerting them to my presence.” He shrugged, then shook his head. “As it turns out, had I acted more quickly, I might have kept them from hurting her.”
“You saved her life, Minister. I’m certain of it.” Kearney glanced at Javan and Tavis. “Indeed, this is a fine day for the House of Curgh. First Master MarCullet saved my life, and now the first minister has saved my archminister. The people of Glyndwr will remember your deeds for centuries to come.”
Javan bowed. “You honor my people and my house, Your Majesty.”
Xaver, who was standing nearby beside his father, turned bright red, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Tavis was pleased for his friend, though he also felt himself grappling with an unexpected surge of jealousy.
“I’m sorry to have to ask you this, Your Highness,” Kearney said to Sanbira’s queen, “but do you have any reason to believe that the other Qirsi in your company are disloyal?”
Olesya shook her head, but she looked uncertain. “I don’t, Your Majesty. But rest assured, I intend to speak with all of them before this night is through.”
“I think all of us would be well served to do the same. I’d like my nobles to speak with their ministers immediately. Gershon,” he said to his swordmaster, “I’d like you to speak with the healers.”
“How can we be certain that they won’t simply lie to us, Your Majesty?” Marston of Shanstead’s eyes flicked nervously from face to face. “After today, how can we be certain of anything?”
“Surely after today you no longer suspect Keziah of being a traitor, or Grinsa, or Fotir.”
Marston lowered his gaze. “Of course not, Your Majesty.”
“Even under these circumstances, Lord Shanstead, we must find it within ourselves to trust and be trusted. Without Grinsa and the other Qirsi we have no chance against the Weaver and his army. Speak with your Qirsi, discern what you can from your conversations, and trust in yourselves to find the truth. That’s all any of us can do.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“We’ll speak again later,” the king said, dismissing them. “Feed yourselves, see to the wounded among your men.”
They began to disperse, and Tavis thought to return to Grinsa’s side, in case he needed any assistance.
“Wait a moment, Tavis,” his father said, before he had even taken a step. “I’d like a word with you.”
Tavis cringed, then turned. Javan was standing with Hagan and Xaver. The swordmaster and duke were regarding him with the same severe expressions, while his friend simply looked chagrined.
“Walk with us,” Javan commanded, starting southward, away from the other soldiers and nobles.
Tavis had little choice but to join them, falling in step beside his father and walking through the matted grasses in the gathering gloom. None of them spoke, until finally Javan halted, forcing the others to do the same.
“Would one of you care to explain to me what happened today?” he asked looking from his son to Xaver, then back to Tavis.
“Xaver saved the king’s life,” Tavis said, careful to keep both his voice and mien neutral.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hagan suppress a grin. But clearly the duke was not amused.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it! I did not give Xaver permission to fight, nor did I give you leave to take him into battle with you under the king’s banner! In fact, I don’t remember giving you leave to fight with the King’s Guard yourself! This is the second time in as many battles that something of this sort has happened, and I grow tired-”
“Oh Father, please stop it.”
Javan gaped at him, opening his mouth to say something, and then simply closing it again.
“Xaver and I are a full year past our Fatings, and while I would never question your authority to command the Curgh army, I do believe that over the past year I’ve earned the right to make such decisions for myself.”
“When you ride with my army, you submit yourself to my command!”
“Yes, I do. But by law I remain under the king’s authority, or, more precisely, under the authority of his son, the duke of Glyndwr.”
“Kearney the Younger?”
Tavis shook his head. “That’s not the point. I’m not merely your son anymore. I’ve spent the last year fending for myself, and doing a passable job of it.”
“You’re still a noble in the House of Curgh.”
“Yes, I suppose I am. But I’m also more than that now. And perhaps less, as well. Whatever I am, I made a decision to fight, as I saw fit, and I don’t apologize for that. I also made a decision to take my liege man with me, and in that I erred.” He turned to the swordmaster. “I owe you an apology, Hagan. I put your son’s life at risk, and I shouldn’t have, not without speaking first with you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not his fault, Father,” Xaver said quickly. He hesitated, then bowed to Javan. “Forgive me, my lord. I made Tavis take me with him.”
“I doubt that, Master MarCullet. It seems that no one is capable of making my son do anything.”
Glancing at Tavis, Xaver smiled. “Actually, I am.”
In spite of all that had happened that day, the duke smiled, though only for an instant. “Someday you’ll have to explain to me how you do it.”
“I begged him to let me fight,” Xaver said, looking once more at his own father. “I knew you’d keep me out of battles forever if I didn’t prove to you that I could defend myself. And I didn’t come all this way just to watch the rest of you defeat the empire’s army.”
Hagan made a sour face. “You’re both fools,” he said, eyeing the two boys. “Wanting to fight.” He shook his head. “Didn’t I teach you anything?”
“Apparently you did, Hagan. Your boy saved the king.”
Xaver looked at the duke. “Tavis would have done the same thing, my lord.”
“No,” Tavis said. “That was all you, Stinger. I didn’t even see the soldier until he was almost on Kearney.”
“Well,” the duke said, “from this day on, you both fight under Curgh’s banner unless you have leave from me to do otherwise. Is that understood?”
Both of them nodded.
“Hagan, would you please see to the wounded? I’ll be along shortly. I’d just like another word with my son, in private.”
“Of course, my lord.”
The swordmaster nodded toward Tavis, then placed an arm around Xaver’s shoulders and led him back toward the camp.
Tavis expected his father to berate him once more, but this time the duke surprised him.
“What did you mean before when you said that you might be less than a noble in our house?”
Tavis shrugged, abruptly feeling uncomfortable. He had always been far more at ease with his father’s wrath than with his concern. “I don’t know. I … I’m not entirely convinced that the people of Curgh will ever accept me as their duke. Certainly I don’t believe that your soldiers will ever willingly take orders from me.”
“They might surprise you. You should have heard them speaking of how you fought today beside the king. Not only Curgh’s men, mind you, but Kearney’s as well.”
“It’s more than that. We nearly lost this war because Galdasten wouldn’t fight with us. Nor would Eardley or Rennach, or most of the other minor houses. The realm might still fall because they’re not here. And that’s all
