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Raf knocked Meg to the ground with a blow from his shield. She sat in the dust for a moment collecting herself before she stood up slowly.
“An enemy will not give you the chance to catch your breath before you stand up,” Brent snapped. “Move faster.”
“I am tired,” she whined before straightening up and rolling her shoulders.
“Don’t care,” Raf said, knocking her over again. “We are all tired.”
She jumped up quicker, but the strength had gone out of her arms and she didn’t have the power to push back against him.
Raf let his arms drop by his side. “If you will not try,” he sighed, “then neither will I.”
“I have tried,” she said. “But I cannot lift my arms.”
Brent tapped on his shield to indicate she use it, and Raf tapped his chest.
Instead she dropped her shield in the dust and turned on her feet. She even struggled to lift herself up onto the fence.
“You need to work on your stamina,” Brent said.
She nodded. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Years of training,” Raf said, leaning over the fence beside her.
“I haven’t had years,” she said, trying hard to keep the sob out of her voice.
“You have come a long way,” Raf said, giving her a pat on the leg. “But you have a long way to go if you are to stand with us.”
She looked at Brent. “Would I stand with you? Could I?”
He shrugged then and indicated for the two men on the other side of the yard to move forward. Meg looked back to Brent, but his eyes were on the other men.
“Do you want to?” he asked.
She opened her mouth and then closed it. She certainly wanted to be of use, but standing with the soldiers, she didn’t know if that was the best way. And when would she have the opportunity? Would she be headed to the border with the next group to keep the peace and ensure Tands wasn’t making trouble?
“Let us see,” Brent said, his eyes still on the men now moving around each other in the dust. “This did just start as exercise,” he added.
She nodded then. Just to get her leg moving. But she had other commitments here, and would her sister let her go if she chose to go with the men? Or the royal commander, for that matter? And who would watch over Kellin?
Walking across the courtyard, the whispers seemed to follow Meg like mist, clinging to her skin and pulling at her clothes. One small reprieve Kellin had, she thought, were the letters smuggled to her from the border, but despite all attempts Rainger was still so far away.
The longer he was away, the harder it was for Kellin. And as her belly had grown more rounded, she had begun to refuse to even leave her room to pray, and Meg had become even more concerned.
When she entered Kellin’s room, she was sitting before the fire with her feet raised and a nurse gently prodding her stomach. “Is there a letter?” she asked as soon as she saw Meg.
Meg shook her head and then sat down in the chair and watched the nurse work.
“Not much longer,” she said with a smile. “And the baby seems to be strong.”
Kellin sighed with relief.
“You are pale,” the nurse added. “Try to get some sun.”
Kellin screwed up her face. “There is not much sun to stand in,” she said softly.
“Some fresh air is better than nothing,” Meg said.
“People stare,” she said, looking down at her stomach and wrapping her hands around the bulge.
“People will continue to talk whether you go out or not. Shall you lock yourself away when the child is born?”
She shook her head, but Meg wondered what she would do. Everyone in the kingdom knew that the child had been conceived out of wedlock, for she was unmarried still. Despite Elalia’s attempts to have that rectified. And Meg found herself regretting her initial thoughts of having the child removed when Kellin waved her closer.
She placed her hand over Kellin’s tight skin and the child responded with a solid kick. She smiled despite herself and realised that Brother Erasmus might know more than she had given him credit for when he said this child was special. There was a strong calming and joyful feeling that washed over Meg each time the child kicked against her.
She had a moment of uncertainty when she wondered if she would ever have this experience herself. She wondered what her life could have been if she had run away with Brodwyn when he had first left Rocfeld. Not that he had offered her the option.
“What is it?” Kellin asked softly, and Meg shook her head and stood in front of the fire.
It had been so long since she had seen him, and he had seemed so disapproving of her when she had returned from the Keep. The idea of his disappointment in her friendship with the soldiers caused a lump to form in her throat. She tried unsuccessfully to shake it free. She had to trust that the gods would lead her in the right direction, and whether that direction included Brodwyn was not hers to question.
“Meg, talk to me,” Kellin implored from her reclined position.
She turned back to her sister with a smile. “I was just thinking of all that has happened,” she said.
Kellin sighed. “When will Rainger return?”
“Soon, I am sure. Elalia cannot keep him away forever, and he must be here for the child—and that is soon, is it not?” She looked to the nurse, who nodded. “The royal commander will organise a relief.”
“Have you talked with him, Meg?” she asked. “You are friends.”
“I am not sure we are friends, more that he is my commander,” she said slowly, trying to clarify her life in the yards to her sister. “I may ask, but I have no sway with him, as a princess or as an apprentice.”
Kellin’s lip began to tremble.
Meg sat down again on the edge of the seat and took Kellin’s hands. “Do not cry,” she whispered. “It will be well. I will talk with him and Elalia. He should be home for you.”
Kellin nodded. “I know you think you can fix this.”
“It is not a matter of fixing,” Meg said. But her chest tightened. She wasn’t going to be able to find the solutions that Kellin wanted.
Meg’s hems dragged through the dust of the yard as she marched towards the royal commander’s cottage. She could sense the eyes of the men on her, but she didn’t pause to look at them. It didn’t pay to think about them, but she was uncomfortable in this place where she had found an acceptance she had never imagined.
The royal commander stood in the doorway before Meg made it across the yard. At his puzzled expression, she found herself stiffening further, and she wondered why she had ever thought this would be a good idea.
“Princess Megora,” he said politely, with a bow. “What a pleasant surprise.”
She gave him a nod. “My lord,” she returned politely. “I wonder if I might have a word.”
He stood to attention, nodded and indicated the room from which he had come. She moved ahead of him, finding the doorway strangely tight in her dress, and she looked about for a chair in the dim light.
The door banged shut as Meg sat at the table. She glanced over the maps covering its surface and the small icons standing upon it.
Despite his earlier cordiality that had only served to unnerve Meg further, he now sat at the table and tapped his fingers. “What exactly do you mean to accomplish by visiting like this?”
Meg breathed a little easier. “I had hoped to talk more openly.”
“More than we do when you practice in the yard?”
“It is more important,” Meg said.
“More important than your training?”
“Please sir, hear me out.”
He sat back and crossed his arms, and then Brent appeared in the doorway. He took one look at Meg and stopped. “Princess,” he said politely.
She gave him a nod and turned back to the royal commander. “I need to ask after Commander Rainger,” she said politely, her voice a little shaky.
He glared at her across the table, and for a moment she felt like the insignificant boy she was treated as when she appeared in the yard in her trousers. She gulped down the uncertainty and thought of her sister’s gaunt frame and pale face.
“I need to know when he is to return to Rocfeld,” she said more firmly.
“Meg...” Brent said, but she put up a hand, her eyes focused on the royal commander.
“You know you cannot make demands on me,” he said, his voice kind. “No matter how you appear in my office.”
She nodded but kept her face still. “It is not for me that I ask,” she said, and then added quietly, “I would never demand, sir. I simply ask for my sister.”
“The queen may ask of me any time she chooses. To date, she has chosen to simply inform me of her decisions and demand that I carry them out.”
“The other sister,” she whispered, now looking down at her hands.
Brent stepped closer, but as he stopped short of her she looked up at the commander’s stern face, his eyes on Brent over her shoulder.
He took a deep breath and looked back to Meg, his face gentler than she had expected, and she found his compassion only caused her greater discomfort.
“I know why you ask,” he said softly. “But I cannot help you.”
“The child is close. Kellin is distressed, and so thin and pale. It would be so much easier for her if Rainger could be with her.”
“I am sure,” he said. “But you know I cannot send for him under such circumstances.”
Meg nodded and looked into her lap again. “You could invent a reason for his return.”
He coughed.
“He has been gone so long; it is not right,” Meg blurted. “It is time he returned, time he was relieved.”
“Would you send me away?” Brent asked quietly over her shoulder.
“That is not what I say and you know it,” she snapped, but her eyes remained on the royal commander.
“Enough,” he said in a voice that bounced off the walls of the small space. “You cannot ask this.”
“I had to try,” she said.
“Did you make promises to your sister?” he asked, the kindness back in his voice.
She shook her head. “In a way. I thought it worth the effort.”
He nodded and stood slowly from the table, then came around and took her hands, pulling her to her feet. “You know us, Meg. You know that we can only do as we are directed to do.”
She nodded and looked down again. “She is so sad,” she said quietly. “I worry for her and the child.”
“You are a good sister,” he said, suddenly pulling her into an embrace. “A good princess and a good soldier.” He patted her firmly on the back as she leant into him, the smell of metal and oils strong on his clothes, a firm, strong body beneath the rough uniform despite his age. She was struck with a memory of long ago, when he had held her in such a way when her mother had died. “You will always do what is right,” he said. “I know that the commander has been away too long, but I cannot call him back, and if I were to call him back against the queen’s wishes for a matter such as this, we would be open to scandal.”
She nodded into his chest. “Kellin already bears the scandal.”
“There may be a way around this, but at this time we must continue as we are.”
“I understand,” she said, pushing away from the comfort of his embrace. “Brother Erasmus feels it will be as it should be.”
“It often is,” he said, and stepping back he gave her a low bow. “I will entrust your return to the castle with Commander Brent,” he said.
She bobbed a curtsy, although given her status, she shouldn’t have offered such a sign of respect.
“Go,” the old man laughed, waving her out the door.
Brent already had it open, and she stepped into the dazzling light and put her hand up to shield her eyes. When the world reappeared before her, the men were working again in the yard as they usually did, and she took Brent’s offered arm and allowed him to lead her towards the market.
“How is the princess?” Brent asked after a time as he slowly walked towards the castle gates.
Meg looked over the stalls as they passed; people curtsied and stepped out of the way. “Tired,” she said.
“I meant Kellin,” he muttered.
“So did I,” Meg said, stopping.
Brent gave her a nod and made to continue the walk, but she refused to move on.
He sighed. “You look tired,” he said. “As though you sit up and watch your sister sleep.”
She shrugged and allowed the walk to continue.
“What do you think will occur when Rainger does return?” he asked.
“I am not sure, but I would prefer him here before the child arrives.”
“They cannot be together.”
There seemed to be so much trying to keep them apart, yet Brother Erasmus had said the child had been conceived for a reason; although he didn’t seem to be willing share what that reason might be.
“I just know that they will not be safe without him here.”