“. . . and I assisted the chancellor’s office in outfitting and supplying the king’s armies.” He gave Richard Syon an imploring look.
“That experience may prove useful,” Richard said, nodding his head. “I may call on you.”
There was a sudden shift of tension, and Maia felt certain in that moment that her council was not behind Caspur’s ideas.
“I would hear from everyone,” Maia continued. “Suzenne?”
Her friend looked flustered. “I have no experience that would be helpful,” she said, her cheeks flushing.
Maia gave her an encouraging nod.
After wrestling with herself for a moment, Suzenne finally said, “What of the children? The families to be displaced? If there is to be a siege of the city, they will suffer. I agree that we must have a plan to evacuate the sick, the young, and those who cannot defend themselves.”
“Thank you,” Maia said. “Please work with the lord mayor and offer your suggestions to him. Consider where they may be moved and how to supply them with their needs.”
Caspur wrung his hands, clearly sensing he had lost the room. “Lady Maia, I insist that you hear me out. I have more experience than all the rest of these council members combined. Put me in charge of your army, and I swear to you, by Idumea’s hand, I will put down this rebellion and bring Schuyler before you in chains for punishment. Marching my army to defend the city would mean leaving my own lands unguarded. I know what Paget meant by choosing good ground. This realm is more familiar to me than it is to most, as I have holdings throughout. I would choose a battlefield that would give us a sure advantage. Why trouble the citizenry at all, Your Grace? Give me the command, I implore you!”
Maia could almost feel his desperation for glory. That would lead to foolish decisions. Her trust would be earned, not taken for granted.
“I have heard you,” Maia said, staring into his eyes. She shook her head, using that gesture to begin communicating the news that would disappoint him. “Comoros is a vast city, split by a river. Losing control of it would be disastrous. These are my instructions. Dodd—bring as many forces as you can and march them quickly to Comoros. If you raise your banners, you may draw some of Schuyler’s soldiers away. Do not engage with his army. Lord Mayor, prepare to defend the city. Have your watchmen trained and keep them sober, my lord. Will a curfew help you maintain order?”
Justin beamed. “It would indeed. With your permission?”
“You have it.” She turned to her chancellor. “Richard, see that the order is written and affix it with the seal granting authority.” It was only then that she turned back to the Earl of Caspur. “Bring your army to Comoros to defend us. You have the largest force and the most experience in battle. Some of the vigor being used to challenge us may wane in time. It will give us more options if we force Schuyler to react to us rather than reacting to him. Do not engage his army, my lord. Bring your army here.”
His jaw quivered with disappointed rage, but though his eyes burned with enmity, he gave her a curt nod and made no comment.
“Go make your preparations,” Maia said. “Report back to the chancellor regularly. Keep him informed of your progress.”
She dismissed the council.
The rest of the day was long and wearisome. Being a queen, Maia discovered, was replete with commitments and obligations. It seemed every person in the realm wanted to see her, speak with her, implore her for a position or a favor. Thankfully, her chancellor controlled access to her during the formal times of the day. Only in rare moments could he travel back to Augustin to see his wife and assist her with her duties in the abbey, and Maia hurt for them, knowing the separation was painful.
Suzenne served the same gate-keeping function during Maia’s private hours. The two were enjoying an elaborate meal in Maia’s private chambers. Her other ladies-in-waiting, including Jayn Sexton, were also there, helping to arrange an assortment of gowns, traveling clothes, blankets, and household items that she had found herself owning without knowing how. Many of the pieces, she learned, had belonged to her mother before being usurped by Lady Deorwynn. After Suzenne, Maia was closest to Jayn and appreciated her quiet ways and thoughtfulness.
Maia’s appetite had waned with the threat of rebellion, but the soup was good, and she nibbled on the loaf of trencher bread.
“I miss the Aldermaston’s kitchen at Muirwood,” Maia said to Suzenne.
Her friend smiled and nodded in agreement. One of the other girls had picked up a lute and had begun plucking simple chords from it—the sound a lovely accompaniment to their meal.
“What did you think of the council meeting this morning?” Maia asked.