A MISSION FOR STEVIC
Clever was their king. The letter Queen Estora had handed Stevic anticipated his acceptance of a mission to rescue Laren. There was no indication the king knew of Stevic’s relationship with Laren, but he instead appealed to Stevic’s expertise in certain areas.
If the diplomats failed, Stevic was to proceed with a legitimate—that was, lawful in the eyes of the Varosians—means to persuade King Farrad Vir to return Laren. If the legitimate tactic failed, he was to employ other means using skills he had acquired before he’d become a law-abiding merchant.
Stevic’s smile deepened.
He read on. So sure was the king that he would agree to rescue Laren that he’d already set preparations in motion. Three sword-hulled clipper ships, complete with crew, would await his command in Corsa Harbor. If he should choose, he could pick a dozen additional personnel whom he knew to be loyal to him and the crown. His contact in Corsa would be a man named Master Hunt. Elgin Foxsmith, Laren’s orderly, had already been sent ahead to Corsa to help lay the groundwork.
The king wrote, You will not be acting in my name at any time, nor under the commission of the realm in any form. Should you fail and find yourself subject to the laws of Varos, I will deny all knowledge of you and your endeavor, and provide no support. You will be on your own. He added, If successful in recovering Colonel Mapstone, you will be duly rewarded.
There were a few other details, but when Stevic finished, he lowered the letter to his lap and stared out the solarium’s window. A gardener was watering a nearby patch of cabbage. Then he turned to Queen Estora.
“You have read this, my lady?”
“Not your letter,” she said, pouring more tea for the both of them, “but one addressed to me that, among other things, describes the contents of your letter. I am to aid you as possible, but as you’ve seen, the king already has preparations under way. Have you an answer for him?”
“His Majesty loves the colonel very much, doesn’t he?”
“My sense is,” she replied, “that Laren may have been the only one, besides his terriers, who ever showed him kindness and love without condition. As a prince and possible successor to the throne, those who surrounded him thought more about how being linked to him would be in their own personal best interests. It was never about befriending the person he was, but what he could do for them as a royal prince. He’d lost his mother, of course, during his birthing, and his brother was far from kind. His grandmother came closest as a blood relative to showing him some warmth, but Queen Isen was . . .”
“A force to be reckoned with,” Stevic provided.
“Just so, and too busy to spend much time with him. So, he made a family of friends with those around him—the Weapons, the horse master, the kennel master, and most of all, Laren Mapstone. She was both surrogate mother and sister to him, and his closest friend.”
“I see,” Stevic replied. “I thought it might be the way of it, but I did not wish to presume.”
“With my own children newly born,” she continued, “it is something I’ve thought about often. How will they be treated by those around them? I will want to protect them, but it will not always be possible. I hope their father will remember his own upbringing and do better than his father and grandmother.”
It was candid of her to speak so. “Your children are lucky to have so caring a mother. Karigan’s mother passed away when she was little, and I was such a wreck in my grief that I abdicated my duties as a parent for many years. I thank the gods for my sisters, that they were there to help raise her, although I must admit the result has made her very strong headed.”
Estora smiled. “Your sisters did very well by Karigan. I consider her a friend even if we don’t see each other often, and I hope she will become a friend to my children as Laren was to Zachary.”
Stevic sobered. “If she turns up.”
“I can only guess how much you worry. I know only too well the peril the Green Riders face. But I also know Karigan G’ladheon. You and your sisters raised her to be resourceful, and she has a habit of turning up when we least expect it. Fear not. I believe she is but delayed, not lost.”
Stevic was humbled by his queen’s compassion. He bowed his head to collect his composure. Finally, he said, “In answer to the king’s request, I will bring back Colonel Mapstone. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Thank you. I know you will, and I will pray to Aeryc and Aeryon for your safety and success.”
Stevic, never one to take the gods too seriously, was nonetheless moved. He stood and took his leave of his gracious queen, his mind already filled with all he needed to do.
He found Melry out by the field house using a practice sword to beat on a sand-filled dummy hanging from a post. She’d expressed her desire to become a Weapon, but this was not the image of a future swordmaster perfecting her technique, but of a young woman full of rage. Her hair was slick with sweat, her cheeks red from effort. He spied a bloody rag wrapped around the hilt of the practice sword. She’d been at this for a while. No one coached her, and in fact, all the practice rings were empty, and the area surrounding the field house quiet, except for Melry’s grunts when the sword connected with the dummy.
“Melry,” he said quietly.
She paused, and turned to look at him. She wiped hair out of her face with a bloody hand.
“I wanted to tell you,” he continued, “that the king has tasked me to retrieve your mother from Varos.”
An expression of hope crossed her face. “When?”
“I will take ship when I reach Corsa. I just wanted you to know. I will bring her back.”
She stepped toward him. “I want to go with you.”
“I don’t think—”
“I’m going.”
He should not have been so startled by her vehemence, but he was. He hoped that by presenting himself to the Varosians as a merchant they could come to some arrangement that would allow Laren to return home in peace, but if not, he’d have to resort to other means to free her, which meant the possibility of danger.
“My point in telling you,” he said, “is to hearten you, to let you know that action was actually being taken to release your mother, not to recruit you for my crew. I fear we may encounter peril in the endeavor and I don’t want to have to worry about a young—”
“I am as old as Karigan was when she ran away from school and helped save the king’s throne.”
The hair raised on the nape of his neck. “Citing Karigan’s history is not necessarily the best way to persuade me.”
“I am going. You won’t have to worry about me. I can defend myself just fine.” She raised her sword to eye level to emphasize her point.
The gods preserve him. “Don’t you, er, need to get permission from someone?”
“Like my mother?” she asked in a cutting voice. “No, there is no one. Well, I’d write a letter to Estral to let her know I won’t be back in Selium anytime soon.”
He understood her desire to go, could not deny it. If anyone had a claim to join him on this voyage, it was Melry. It filled him with trepidation, however, to be responsible for her. If anything should happen to her, Laren would kill him. She’d probably kill him just for allowing Melry to come along.
“I think,” he said, “you should at least inform Lieutenant Brennyn as a courtesy.”
She bristled and looked as if she was going to protest, until the implication of his words set in. “You’re taking me with you?”
“It would appear so. But you must promise me you will follow my every order.”
“I promise!” she cried, triumph in her eyes. “I will do everything you say.”
“Hmm.” She was a little too ready to agree. “This will not be some lark, but important business that begins with a long and monotonous sea voyage.”
She stilled herself and said very seriously, “I understand. I will do all you say. I know it’s my mother’s life at stake.”
He nodded in satisfaction. “Then gather any belongings you have suitable for the variable weather of an ocean voyage and meet me at the castle gate by the second bell. My first order to you is to not discuss what you are doing, even with friends. It’s not a secret that I’m sailing to Varos on a trading mission, but the more circumspect we are, the better. Meanwhile, I have some business to attend to at my office in town.”
“I will do as you say.” She sprang away with her wooden sword toward the field house, leaving Stevic to hope he would not regret this. He turned to leave only to come face-to-face with a hulking man with his arms folded across his substantial chest, which strained his tunic at his shoulders.
“Uh,” Stevic said. He had not heard the man approach from behind.
“Are you G’ladheon?” the man demanded.
“Stevic G’ladheon of Clan G’ladheon, at your service.” He would have given the traditional merchant bow, but his head would have thudded into the man’s chest.
“I’m Drent,” the man said. His face appeared to rest in a permanent scowl. “The arms master.”
“It’s, uh, good to meet you.” He’d heard of the arms master from both Karigan and Laren. They had not exaggerated his forbidding presence.
“Your daughter does well with the sword.”
“That is nice to hear.” Stevic waited for more as the man stared him down. When it seemed no more was forthcoming, he began, “Well, I had better—”
“That Melry,” Drent said, “you make sure to watch after her. She may one day become a Weapon, but she’s not ready yet. You will make sure she trains on the voyage.”
“I will? Yes, of course I will.” Stevic wondered more than ever what he was getting himself into by agreeing to take Melry with him. “You, uh, overheard us then?”
“There is little that happens on these grounds that I don’t know about.”
Drent bent toward him, his expression menacing. Stevic, not easily cowed by anyone, fought not to flinch or back away.
“You will,” Drent commanded, “bring the colonel back.”
“That is my aim. I will not return without her.”
“Good.” The arms master’s posture eased. “It is not the same around here without her.” Then he quickly added, “Don’t tell her I said that.”
Was Drent more than just Laren’s friend?
“I would accompany you,” Drent continued, “but I am required to stay here to help protect the queen and heirs, and to train swordmasters and Weapons who are not with the king’s army.” He jabbed Stevic in the shoulder with his finger. If Stevic had been a lesser man, it might have knocked him over. “You bring her back.” He turned and stumped off toward the field house.
It had sounded a threat even if he’d left off the “or else.”
When Stevic saw Laren again, he’d have to clarify just what was the nature of her relationship with Arms Master Drent.