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Molly never thought she would look back fondly on having a nun for company, but as the month of May wore on, she came to miss Sister Morwen a great deal. Other visitors were placed at her table, but they rarely talked to her. Some of them seemed actively hostile, and glared at her throughout their meals. Prince Broderick had introduced her to all the best artists and musicians, but those people were often busy on their own affairs, so Molly hardly ever saw them. The prince himself continued to be kind to her, but he was kind to everyone, and a few pleasantries at lunch and dinner every day didn’t go very far toward satisfying her desire for companionship.
Lukas gave her money, and she spent enormous sums on new Immani and Sahasran dresses. But no one really noticed her clothes except for Lukas, and he only remarked on them when he was undressing her.
The sex continued to be good. Or at least it was usually good, on the occasions when Lukas wasn’t so tired that he fell straight to sleep after coming home from the army camps. Molly tried not to resent all the time he spent away from her, but it was hard not to, when she had so little to do. She had never imagined that it would be possible to be in the center of Myrcian society and be so damned bored all the time.
Prince Broderick suggested she try the library at the castle, but Molly had never liked books very much, and sitting in a library all day seemed so painfully desperate that she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She longed to go visiting friends or join the hunting parties she kept hearing about, but no one invited her, and there wasn’t much point in going hunting by herself. That would be depressing.
Amazingly, things got even worse as June arrived. The great military offensive was almost ready to begin, so Lukas spent even less time with her than before. Most of the men at court were similarly busy now, which left the ladies, who had never liked Molly. Worst of all, Duchess Carrine showed up with her daughter, Lady Penelope. That meant Molly was unceremoniously evicted from her nice, big room next door to Lukas, and placed in a much smaller room two floors up. It looked like a servant’s room, in fact, and it hadn’t been dusted in a very long time.
Then finally the day came for the army to march, and it was like spring coming after a long winter. No idealistic young knight in a romance story had ever marched to war more eagerly than Molly did. She was glad to be away from Wealdan Castle and the court at long last, and thrilled to be sharing a tent with Lukas again. All the knights and noblemen who had ignored her at the castle for fear of upsetting their wives were suddenly her friends again. Every night, she presided over Lukas’s table, and she reveled in the admiring glances she got from all the men.
She didn’t really care where the army was going, as long as she was with it, but on the second day out of Formacaster, she learned their destination. Lukas asked her to bring in some drinks for his officers during his morning meeting, and while she was serving out the coffee and chilled wine, she saw a map on the table of northern Keneshire.
“Our first goal is to knock Leornian out of the war,” Lukas was saying. Once they had done that, they would concentrate on Pinshire in the autumn. The idea, it seemed, was to deprive Duchess Flora of her allies, one by one, until she was entirely alone and helpless. He moved some markers around a map, showing how the king was bringing down troops from Keelweard, including the troops of the Duke of Keelshire. They would meet up with Lukas’s men at a place called Basington, before heading east again to attack Leornian.
“Basington...Basington,” said Molly, unaware she was speaking out loud. “Where have I heard that name before?”
One of the officers looked up and smiled at her. “There’s a famous abbey near there. That’s probably why you’ve heard of it.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” said Molly, smiling at him and then apologizing to Lukas for the interruption.
She had heard Sister Morwen mention Basington. Should she pay the nuns a visit while they were camped in the area? Or would that be too depressing? Hanging around a convent didn’t seem like a good time to her, but it might be a nice change of pace. Yes, maybe she would go for tea and bring along some sugared cakes or something to brighten up Morwen’s dreary day. It would almost be like charity.
The next morning, as she and Lukas rode along, side by side at the head of the column, she mentioned this idea to him. They were apparently only a few miles from Basington now, and Molly wondered if she could go visit the abbey in the afternoon.
“Morwen Byrne,” said Lukas, chuckling. “It’s amazing the effect that girl still has on people, even in that boring old habit. My son Halvor is quite taken with her, you see, so I’ve had to hear a great deal about her recently.”
Molly was about to ask what Halvor had said about the nun, when a scout came galloping up the road at them. “Your grace!” he cried. “I’ve sighted the enemy over the next ridge, in the Basing Valley.”
Lukas called for Quincy to take twenty men and investigate. Then he sent the scout to fetch Sir Halvor. “He’s been in this area recently,” said Lukas. “He’ll have some idea of the terrain.”
When Sir Halvor arrived, all the staff officers dismounted and gathered around a little camp table by the side of the road. Molly ran to the baggage train and got Lukas’s valet to help her put together a plate of fruit slices and some mugs of ale for refreshments. She brought them back and served them out, while Lukas and the men talked about sorties and flanking maneuvers and other things that she didn’t really understand.
She understood, though, that there was going to be a battle, and as she stood around, waiting for the men to finish their ale, she remembered her terror at being trapped in the burning wagon. She hoped there was going to be somewhere safe that she could stay. Perhaps in the abbey itself? Wouldn’t that be nice? Maybe she could watch the fighting with Sister Morwen from a safe distance, while they had tea and cakes.
It turned out they weren’t going to the abbey, though. Quincy returned and said the Sigor and Byrne forces were at the abbey already. That meant the Gramiren forces would have to take up position across the valley, at the edge of a forest that Halvor said was called “Almoner’s Woods.”
When they arrived on the spot, the slope was so gentle that it barely seemed like a hill at all to Molly. But Quincy insisted it was a “perfect position,” and who was she to doubt him?
She watched as her brother gave orders to his men and supervised a division of archers in pounding stakes into the ground. This was to protect them from a cavalry charge, apparently.
“Listen, this will be a dangerous place to be when the battle starts,” he warned her. “There’s an inn about five miles back—we passed it this morning. I’ve heard that’s where some of the ladies are going.”
“Which ladies?”
Quincy blushed. “Well, um...I’ve heard Duchess Carrine is stopping there, and her daughter—”
“I’ll take my chances here, thank you,” Molly said.
That afternoon, King Broderick arrived with the Keelshire troops, and Lukas had to spend hours with his majesty, working out exactly where all the men would be placed. Molly was not invited to this conference, but she was invited to supper at the king’s headquarters that evening. Apparently, Duchess Carrine had declined to leave her comfortable inn, which meant Molly would be Lukas’s escort for the evening.
The king was very polite, and everyone was quite pleasant. In fact, as the evening went on, the men got very drunk, indeed, to the point that Molly wondered if she should warn Lukas to stop. He was going to have to fight a battle in the morning, and she couldn’t imagine it would improve his generalship if he had a roaring hangover. She tried to enter into the spirit of the occasion, and drink herself silly, too. But she kept thinking about her one little taste of combat, and after a while, the smoke and alcohol and noise made her feel ill. She excused herself and went to a quieter part of the big headquarters tent.
There was a woman seated in wicker furniture by the tent flap, where a cool breeze was coming in. She was a curvy blonde in a red silk dress. Molly didn’t know her, but she looked slightly familiar, as if she’d been at court, too. Did she want company or not?
The woman looked around, saw her wavering, and called out, “Please, come have a seat.” She had a slight accent—Annenstruker, maybe. Curious, Molly took her up on the offer.
“Jannike Overfelt,” the woman said, shaking Molly’s hand. “I suppose someone ought to have introduced us, but it’s just like the men to forget things like that.”
Molly hadn’t met the woman before, but she knew the name. Lady Jannike Overfelt was an Annenstruker widow and the king’s current mistress. According to rumor, she had been picked for the job by the queen herself, in order to force Duchess Flora out of the king’s life.
Molly introduced herself, too, and the two women looked each other over. There was nothing openly competitive about it, but Molly was glad she had worn one of her prettiest new dresses, as well as the emerald necklace that had been Lukas’s first present to her.
“You’re so young,” said Jannike, with a slightly pained smile.
“Thank you,” said Molly deciding to treat the observation as a compliment.
Jannike leaned over and patted her hand. “Don’t let Lukas take advantage of you. He’s taking your youth. Make sure you get something in return.”
Molly’s face grew warm. “He...well, he buys me dresses. And this necklace, too.”
“I don’t mean that, though those are very nice. I mean a wedding. Not with him, of course. You mustn’t expect that. Too many girls in our position think they’re going to be the next queen or the next lady so-and-so. It almost never happens, so don’t plan on it. No, I’m talking about one of Lukas’s knights or retainers. Find one who’s not married and isn’t too ugly, and start laying the foundation now. A hint here or there, some discreet correspondence, perhaps. Oh, and be sure Lukas understands he’ll be providing you with a dowry.”
“I’m sorry,” sputtered Molly, “but I barely know you!”
“Yes, I’m overly familiar,” said Jannike, laughing. “It comes from being Annenstruker, I think. I mean well, though; you should know that. Here, let me show you something.” She looked around the tent and then pointed at another woman, some distance away, who was drinking and laughing with an older man. “Do you know who that is?”
“No. Should I?”
“It’s Baroness Hildred Stenburg. Formerly Lady Hildred Cuthing, daughter of our somewhat reluctant new ally, the Duke of Keelshire. My Broderick was very generous in helping the girl find a husband, and she is damned lucky, I can tell you. I can’t say if it’s true or not, but the rumor I’ve heard is that the girl is a bit...Thessalian. Supposedly she had an affair with Princess Elwyn Sigor, if you can believe it.”
Molly shuddered. She had read stories and poems where girls did things with each other, but she had always found the notion slightly nauseating.
Lady Jannike misread Molly’s reaction, however. “Yes, everyone says Elwyn is a bitch. But rumor has it that she’s quite wild in bed. Some people like that. In any case, Hildred would never have found a husband if my Broderick hadn’t intervened. No one wants a girl with a scandal attached to her name, and that, my dear Miss Coburn, is precisely what you and I are.” She patted Molly’s hand again. “What do you think will happen to you if Lukas dies in the battle tomorrow?”
“I’d rather not think about that, thank you very much.”
“I know. But you should. Look out for yourself. No one else is going to do it for you.”