Tejay Lionsclaw spent a good two days pacing her tent, listening to the rain beating an incessant tattoo on her roof with no idea what was going on in the war camp, no idea what was in store for her, or even if they’d won the battle. She had only Kendra Warhaft for company and the young woman was kept as isolated as Tejay and had no more notion of what was happening outside the walls of their tent than she did. The slaves who tended them were not her own and the guards on her quarters were Dregian Raiders who didn’t respond even when she asked them direct questions.
She was effectively alone in the world, cut off from everyone she trusted or thought she could rely on and starting to wonder if her misguided heroics were going to cost her much more than she’d bargained for.
It was all Lernen Wolfblade’s fault, Tejay reasoned, as she paced the small empty space in the living quarters of the divided tent. If the High Prince had even an ounce of backbone, she might have got away with posing as a Warlord. He may have even thanked her for it. She was the one who’d sat in front of those damned soldiers, after all, facing the entire oncoming Fardohnyan army, just to make certain the archers
got their arrows away at the right time. Had she received any thanks for her courage? Not a jot. Instead, they confined her and cut her off and were probably plotting to take her province and her children from her in her absence.
It was Damin’s fault, too, she fumed. If that damned irresponsible boy had been where he was supposed to be when she and Lernen arrived at the command post at Lasting Drift, she might have had someone on her side. Instead, all they found was Cyrus Eaglespike, shocked to the very core of his being to realise the occupant of Terin Lionsclaw’s armour was, in fact, not the Warlord but the Warlord’s wife.
Damin, it turned out, had abandoned the field for some harebrained scheme he hadn’t bothered to share with anyone, leaving Tejay to face the wrath and shock of Hythria’s Warlords on her own. Her protestations that she’d simply taken the field at the last minute because Terin was unwell held up for as long as it took Cyrus to send somebody back to the camp to check on the missing Warlord.
Once it was clear her husband wasn’t even in the camp, the whole damned thing began to unravel. Cyrus had had her arrested and bundled away before she could explain anything. Although he protested loudly on her behalf, Rorin could do nothing, because faced with Cyrus’s fury the only man present in a position to overrule the Warlord of Dregian—the High Prince—turned into a quivering mass of blubber at the first hint of a raised voice and nodded his terrified agreement to every order Cyrus shouted after that.
“My lady!”
Tejay halted her pacing at Kendra’s exclamation and turned to find Damin Wolfblade ducking through the tent flap. He was unshaved, muddy and looked as if he hadn’t changed his clothes since the major engagement began two days ago.
“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded with her hands on her hips as she faced him.
“Winning the war for you,” he replied, straightening up as the flap dropped closed behind him.
Tejay wasn’t amused. “So nothing the rest of us did matters, I suppose?”
“Oh … I don’t know about that. I hear there’s a particularly grateful young Raider currently recovering in the physicians’ tent, thanks to your heroic efforts. And that you faced down Hablet’s entire army on your own. I heard you were wounded, too. Are you all right?”
“Don’t I look all right?”
Damin eyed her up and down curiously. “You look fine, although after what you did in the command tent, my lady …”
“I wouldn’t have had to do anything,” she snapped, “if you’d been there to help me like you were supposed to. Or if that spineless uncle of yours had uttered a single word in my defence.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have threatened to put him across your knee and paddle his bare arse in full view of the Fardohnyan army, then,” he suggested.
“Who told you about that?”
“I’ve spoken to Rorin and Kraig already. Good morning, Lady Kendra. I hope this awkwardness hasn’t been too hard on you?”
“Why are you being so nice to her?” Tejay demanded. “I’m the one that arrogant, woman-hating brute Cyrus Eaglespike berated in public like an errant child! Do you know he actually called me a whore?”
“Ah! That would explain his black eye, then.”
“He deserved it.”
“It’s also the reason he had you arrested, Tejay.”
“Well, now you’re back, you can have him un-arrest me. Where were you, by the way? The last I heard, Cyrus was accusing you of fleeing the battle before it even started.”
“I took Almodavar and twelve men and captured five thousand Fardohnyan cavalry with them,” he told her, not completely able to disguise his smug expression. “Cyrus is having second thoughts about calling me a coward.”
“Did you really capture five thousand men with only a
dozen Raiders, your highness?” Kendra gasped, thoroughly impressed. “How did you manage such a feat?”
“Cut off the head of a snake, my lady, and it doesn’t take the rest of the body long to realise it’s done for,” he told her. When she responded with nothing more than a blank look, Damin added, “We sneaked up on their command post, captured their general and convinced him to surrender. The Fardohnyans are disciplined soldiers. They follow orders, even when their orders are to lay down their arms.”
“And your brother, your highness? Lord Hawksword?” she ventured cautiously. “Is he … unharmed?”
“Alive and well, my lady, but you’re going to have to take my word for that at present. I’ve got enough trouble convincing everyone Lady Lionsclaw shouldn’t be executed. I’d really rather you didn’t add fuel to the fire by consorting with Narvell.”
“I understand, your highness,” she said, with a graceful (if somewhat resigned) curtsey.
“Well, I don’t!” Tejay exclaimed. “What in the name of all the Primal Gods do they think they can execute me for?”
“Fortunately for you, my lady, that’s the problem. You broke tradition, rather than the law, I think. Cyrus is having a bit of a job thinking up a charge. But he’s a resourceful fellow. I’m sure, given enough time, he’ll think of something.”
Tejay glared at him. “You think this is funny, don’t you?”
Damin didn’t bother to hide his amusement. “I wish I’d been there when you blacked his eye.”
“If you’d been there, Damin Wolfblade, I wouldn’t have had to. Did you really convince Axelle Regis to surrender?”
“I’m not sure how much of the credit I deserve. He’d already been cut adrift by Hablet, even before we drew him into the ambush. I think that’s why he held back his cavalry. He figured enough blood had been shed by then. We just arrived in time to give him the option to back down gracefully.”
Tejay looked sceptical. “He was probably more concerned about his horses than the men he might lose. Have you ever noticed
that, Kendra? Men will kill without mercy and then get all misty-eyed if their horse falls over.”
The young woman smiled. “I have noticed it, my lady. A most interesting phenomenon, I always thought.”
“There!” Tejay declared, turning back to Damin. “You can stop thinking you’re so damned clever now. Even Kendra agrees. It’s all about the horses.”
Damin at least had the decency to look sympathetic. “I will try to sort this out, Tejay, I promise.”
“Don’t let them take my province from me, Damin.”
“I may not be able to stop them.”
“You have to stop them.”
“Isn’t there someone you can marry, my lady?” Kendra asked.
“There you go!” Damin agreed. “Find yourself another husband. In fact, you should talk to Kendra about it. She’s got one she doesn’t want.”
“Which reminds me, your highness,” the young woman said to Damin with a tinge of guilt in her voice. “Is my husband well?”
“I heard he was wounded, my lady, but not fatally. I’m sorry.”
She looked quite downcast at the news. “The High Prince informs me there will be no divorce if my husband lives.”
“Then pray to Cheltaran his wounds turn septic,” Tejay suggested heartlessly, before turning her attention back to Damin. “I won’t marry again, Damin.”
“Tejay …”
“Find a way to fix this,” she ordered. “And don’t treat me like a tradeable commodity. I stood there and faced down an army for you, Damn Wolfblade. I expect you to reward me the way you would any man who’d done the same for you.”
“I’ll do my best, Tejay. But I can’t make you a Warlord, you know.”
“Why not?” Kendra asked curiously.
“Well … because I can’t,” Damin replied.
“But you just said Lady Lionsclaw broke tradition rather
than the law by being on the battlefield. Doesn’t that mean there’s no law stopping her becoming Warlord?”
“A Warlord is more than a figurehead, my lady,” the young prince tried to explain. “A Warlord is expected to lead … .”
“His men to war,” Tejay finished for him. “I’ve already proved I can do that. What other qualifications does a Warlord need? Must I prove an able administrator? I believe I’ve been proving that for years. Must I have the right education? Speak to my brother. You know, Rogan? The one they’re promoting to Warlord of Izcomdar because he’s a man? He’s sufficiently well educated for the position it seems and as we had the same education, that shouldn’t prove a problem, either. Or is it the correct pedigree, perhaps, that makes one Warlord material? Well, what do you know? I’m a Warlord’s daughter …” She glared at the young prince. “Feel free to stop me when I come to the essential qualities I seem to be lacking, your highness.”
Damin opened his mouth to defend his position and then closed it again, no doubt because it occurred to him this was an argument he couldn’t possibly win.
“It’s not as easy as you make it sound, Tejay,” he said with an uncomfortable shrug. “You know that.”
“Make it easy, Damin,” she ordered. “You claim you want to do the right thing by Hythria, so do it. It’s too hard doesn’t really wash with me as an excuse.”
“I didn’t mean that …” He sighed. “It’s just … well, there are laws, Tejay. There might not be one specifically forbidding a woman from becoming a Warlord, but just the laws regarding inheritance would make it untenable.”
“Then change the damn laws, Damin. As I’ve remarked before, you seem quick enough to suggest your uncle change the law when it suits your own agenda.”
Before Damin could respond to that charge, one of the Dregian guards poked his head through the tent flap. “Your highness?”
“What?”
“Lord Hawksword wishes to advise a messenger has just
arrived from Greenharbour. He said to tell you the news is urgent.”
Damin sighed impatiently. “Tell him I’ll be right there.” He turned back to Tejay. “I’ll do what I can, Tejay,” he promised. “But I can’t guarantee anything.”
He meant it. She could see that. But it didn’t do much to ease her fears. “Don’t let them take my province from me, Damin. Or my sons.”
The prince hesitated, perhaps debating the value of any further empty platitudes, and then, without another word, he bowed politely to the two women and ducked out of the tent, leaving Tejay and Kendra alone with nothing but their uncertain futures ahead of them.