“This takes us up to some thirty thousand new mouths to feed, does it not, brother?” she asked her Lord of the Queen’s Purse.
“Thirty-one thousand, six hundred and twenty,” the brother replied with customary alacrity. “Thank the Departed for Lord Al Bera, or they’d all be starving.”
“Quite.” Lyrna decided not to add that, but for her newly acquired subjects, her army would have been on the march by now. Instead they were obliged to loiter in this ruin, ensuring the people were fed and training new recruits, fierce in their desire to get at the Volarians but lacking the strength to march more than a mile. The pickings provided by the Meldenean fleet had been less copious than she had hoped for, barely a ton of grain so far, though the pirates who came and went from the harbour seemed fairly well attired in silks and jewellery. The Shield had yet to make an appearance, though Ship Lord Ell-Nurin had arrived the previous day, the deck of the Red Falcon laden with captured arrows once destined for Varinshold.
There was a loud rap on the door and Orena went to open it, revealing Benten lowered to one knee. “Lord Al Sorna and Lady Al Myrna, my queen.”
She nodded, smiling again at Brother Hollun. “I look forward to tomorrow’s report, brother.”
He bowed and moved to the door, standing aside as Vaelin and the Lady Dahrena entered. “I would talk to the lord and lady in private,” Lyrna told her court, who duly bowed and withdrew, Iltis with obvious reluctance as he rarely let her out of his sight these days, but knowing better than to argue the point. Lyrna watched Vaelin and Dahrena rise in unison, their movements almost as synchronised as those empty-headed Nilsaelin twins. Looking at their matched, neutral expressions she wondered if they were aware of it, of how unnerving it was to see, or how painful.
A queen is above jealousy, she reminded herself. Though after today, they may be forgiven for thinking otherwise.
“Lady Dahrena,” she said, keeping her tone as light and brisk as she could. “I have been pondering your report on the rich gold deposits to be found in the Reaches. From what I can surmise from Brother Hollun’s estimates, the mines hold enough gold to pay our current and future debts to the Meldenean merchant class several times over.”
Dahrena gave a short nod. “I believe so, Highness.”
“Strange that I can recall no instance when King Malcius expressed an awareness of such riches within his Realm.”
The lady’s answer was swift and, Lyrna judged, well rehearsed. “The full survey of the deposits was not yet complete at the time of the King’s tragic demise, Highness. In truth, I suspect there are more seams yet to be found.”
“I am glad, my lady. Such wealth may well serve as the saviour of this Realm in years to come, for we have much work still to do. And yet, it is of scant use to us lying in the ground, hundreds of miles away, whilst the men with the skill to mine it are here, along with one best placed to organise their efforts.”
She saw them stiffen, once again with the same unnerving uniformity. “My queen?” Vaelin asked in a hard voice.
Lyrna took a breath, summoning her regretful smile. She had spent a while at the mirror practising this morning, for it had never been one of her best. “Lady Dahrena, it is my hard duty to order your immediate return to the Northern Reaches where you will exercise the Queen’s Word until such time as Lord Vaelin can resume his duties. Ship Lord Ell-Nurin’s vessel waits in the harbour to carry you there. With kindly weather you should reach the North Tower in three weeks, his ship being so uncommonly swift. I will also order sufficient vessels gathered to transport Captain Ultin’s miners home as soon as possible.”
“They want to fight,” Vaelin stated, Dahrena standing expressionless at his side. “Sending them away will cause trouble . . .”
“I’ll speak to them,” Lyrna told him. “Explain that every swing of a pick is worth a hundred strokes of a sword. Besides, they’ve done enough fighting to justify any claim to honour, wouldn’t you say?”
“I would, Highness,” Dahrena said before Vaelin could speak. “I . . . regret the necessity of your order.” She glanced briefly at Vaelin before lowering her gaze. “However, I can find no argument against it.”
How fortunate, since I will hear no argument from you. Lyrna chained the words behind another smile, rising and coming forward to clasp the small woman’s hands. “Your service in this war has been great and wondrous. It will never be forgotten, nor is it over. Bring me riches, my lady, so that I might buy justice.”
She released Dahrena’s hands and stepped back, forcing herself to meet Vaelin’s gaze, the glint in his narrow gaze hard to bear. This is not jealousy, she wanted to say. You know me better than that.
“You will wish to say your farewells,” she told them. “I have business with our new arrivals.”