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Molly looked from Lukas to Halvor and back again. “I thought we were going to Leornian.”
“Not all the way,” said Lukas, pouring more wine for them all. “Only to Penric Mills. The duke will meet us there and surrender.”
Molly was annoyed to hear she wasn’t going to Leornian. She’d never been there, and she had been looking forward to it. The place was the ancient heart of old Myrcia, and she had liked the idea of riding into the gates of the Bocburg castle like Maud Dryhten or...some other famous queen. One of the good ones—not the one who went mad and killed her son.
It was almost the Equinox, too. A holiday ought to be spent in a city if at all possible, not on campaign. Molly was getting heartily sick of living in a tent. It had been romantic and exciting at first, and a way of escaping the more unpleasant ladies at court. But everything had changed at Erstenwell, after Quincy died. None of this was fun anymore. She felt she was owed something now—exactly what, she wasn’t sure. But she deserved some recompense for what she had lost.
During their stay at Keneburg, she had remembered how much she adored a good, roaring fire and a real, indoor privy. Lukas had promised her a return to Severn and her cozy little apartment in his palace. But then there had been this messenger from Leornian, offering to make terms. Molly supposed she could see why that was more important than going back home. But she didn’t see why they couldn’t go all the way to Leornian.
They got to Penric Mills later that afternoon. It was just another little market town—exactly the same as a thousand others in Myrcia. Molly was almost inclined to stay behind in the tent, but then Lukas told her—before she asked—that she didn’t need to come to the surrender if she didn’t want to. So then she made a point of going to be contrary. She put on her best, brightest silk dress, which she immediately had to cover with a fur cloak when a thunderstorm blew in from the north.
In the middle of a frantic downpour, she rode into the town square at Lukas’s left side. Halvor was on his right. All their knights followed behind, and Molly couldn’t help but wonder what Quincy would have thought of this. Would he be happy that they had crushed another one of the king’s enemies, or would he be sad that so many of his comrades had died? Or maybe, like her, he would want to get this over with so he could get out of the rain.
Robert Dryhten, Duke of Leornian, was waiting in the common room of a little inn called The Blue Heron. He stood as they entered, and he bowed to Molly. “I am sorry to make your acquaintance under these circumstances,” he said.
Molly had met him before at a party in Formacaster, though of course he wouldn’t have remembered her. He had been in prison for years after his last rebellion, and had been at court very briefly after being ransomed and released. No doubt he was wondering if he was going back to the dungeon now. Molly felt very sorry for him.
“I honestly didn’t think you were going to give up,” said Lukas.
“I wouldn’t have,” said Duke Robert. “But with Keelweard on your side now and without Flora to guard my flank, I can’t see the point of this anymore.”
“There never was any point to it at all,” said Sir Halvor. “You might want to remember that in the future. If you trust Flora Byrne, you deserve what you get.”
“Now, now, son,” said Lukas cheerfully. “Let’s try to be magnanimous in victory, shall we?” He turned back to Robert. “So have you brought what we discussed?”
The Duke of Leornian waved some of his men forward, and they carried up four large, iron-bound chests. One of the duke’s men unlocked them, revealing gold and silver and jewels. There were Myrcian Sovereigns and Immani aurei and coins Molly had never seen before in any marketplace. There were bracelets and belts heavy with massive gems, and thin gold circlets that looked like something a beautiful young princess would wear.
While the heralds and secretaries set out the pens and seals and wax for the treaty ceremony, Lukas sidled over to Molly. “See anything you like? Go on. It’s all ours, now. Take whatever you want.”
Molly picked up some of the heavier jewelry, and even tried on one of the little crowns. But when she saw how Duke Robert was looking at her, she took it off again. Instead, she settled for a simple little gold bracelet engraved with leaves and set with little turquoise flowers. Pretty, but still something she could wear every day and not feel self-conscious.
A few minutes later, when the herald read out the treaty, Molly noticed that the four chests of gold were referred to as, “an indemnity to the royal treasury.” She wondered how much of that money would ever make its way to Formacaster, though.
Having accomplished his mission, Lukas turned right around after the ceremony and went back west again. They spent the night in a tent, rather than at the inn where the treaty had been signed. Three days later, though, they reached the great abbey of Erstenwell. This was still technically Lukas’s headquarters, and he had almost a thousand men camped in the fields and woods around Basington.
It was the night of the Equinox, and of course that meant there had to be a party. Lukas started the evening by visiting some knights who had been crippled in the battle, but after that, he joined Halvor and all the able-bodied soldiers at the Basington guildhall, where there was a tremendous feast. Lukas had the money to buy all the alcohol in town, and by ten o’clock it looked as if he’d personally consumed a good portion of it. He took Molly upstairs to some guild conference room, where he tried to fuck her on a vast maple desk. He was too drunk, though, and eventually fell asleep on the floor. Molly, who was none too sober, either, couldn’t get him to move, so after a while, she left him there and decided to go back to the abbey by herself.
Near the servants’ door of the guildhall, in a back passageway, she ran into Sir Halvor, who was almost completely naked with a pair of tavern girls. “Care to join us?” he asked. The girls giggled and made a show of batting their eyes at Molly.
“No, thank you,” she answered. She was starting to feel ill. Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the heat of the party. Maybe it was knowing that Quincy was lying up the hill under that big slab of stone.
She stepped out into the alley and nearly tripped over a thin young man in extravagant servants’ livery, sitting on the steps. He looked like he had just dozed off, and he sat up with a start as Molly stepped around him.
She knew him—he was Timothy Woolrich, Sir Halvor’s young valet. They had seen each other now and again during the campaign, but she had never spoken more than a few words to him.
“Sorry,” she said. “I very nearly kicked you in the head.”
“It’s my fault,” he said standing and bowing. “I’m sorry I startled you. I’m waiting here for my employer to...er, finish.”
“Yes, well, he looks as if he’s just getting started. Are you here to make sure he gets home safely and doesn’t fall in a well? That happens sometimes when people are very drunk. Happened to a man in my village growing up.”
“Something like that,” said Timothy. “I’m surprised to see you out here. I would have thought you’d be with Duke Lukas.”
“His grace is sleeping off his fortified wine. I wish I were in bed, but it’s such a long walk to the abbey.”
Timothy gave her an odd look. “It’s barely five miles from here.”
“Yes. Like I said, a long walk.” She looked down. “At least in this gown and these shoes.”
“Would you like me to find you a cart and take you back?”
She smiled. “I think that would be marvelous. I’m so tipsy and tired I could sit down here on the steps and sleep until morning.”
“I think I was about to do that when you came out the door. Wait here; I’ll go get a cart.”
He was back in two or three minutes with one of the big army supply carts. It looked exactly like the one she had almost burned up in, but she managed to climb up on the driver’s seat with only a moment’s hesitation and a tiny shudder at the memory.
“How did you come to be working for Sir Halvor?” she asked. Five miles was a long way to sit in silence. They had better have some sort of conversation.
“It’s a long story, but basically I was working as an underbutler at one of Duke Lukas’s estates, and then Halvor asked his father’s chamberlain if there was a boy who might want to move up in the world. And I said ‘yes’ when some other fellows said ‘no.’” Timothy smiled. “So here I am. What about you? How did you....” His voice trailed off as he realized what he was asking, and his cheeks reddened.
Molly took pity on him. “How did I come to be Lukas’s mistress? Well, that’s a long story, too. But basically I was in Severn at the palace, and he happened to see me. Despite what some women at court will tell you, he made the approach, not me.”
“I can believe that. His grace seems like the sort of man who takes whatever he wants. Halvor has that same quality, for better or worse.”
“Family resemblance, no doubt.”
“Exactly.” Timothy frowned thoughtfully. “How well do you know the rest of the family? The duke’s family, I mean.”
“Well, let’s see. His wife hates me, though I suppose that’s no surprise. I don’t know his other sons—the legitimate ones—very well at all. Oh, and his daughter Penny is very nice. I met her at the convent.”
“Right, she got caught in the battle, didn’t she?” Timothy opened his mouth to speak several times, but shut it. Finally, he blurted out, “Listen, maybe this is an odd question, but does Lukas ever talk much about Penny?”
That really was an odd question. “I...I don’t recall him talking about her much at all. Why?”
“Sir Halvor believes there are certain...expectations for the girl. I was wondering what the duke had to say on the matter. I’m sorry, it’s really none of my business, is it?”
“No, not at all. But what expectations do you mean? Is Lukas thinking of marrying her off?”
“Yes. To Pedr Byrne—though you didn’t hear that from me.”
“She’s awfully young,” said Molly quietly.
“Yes, she is. I feel sorry for her, don’t you?”
“I do, in fact.”
Molly wondered if Timothy might perhaps have a little bit of a crush on the lovely young Penny. He certainly wouldn’t have been the first household servant to fall for a daughter of the family he served. But before she could think of a way to frame the question, they arrived at the abbey, and it was time to get ready for bed.