Fate's Ransom(The First Argentines #4)

“What’s this?” Ransom asked the bodyguard who had accompanied him.

The knight smiled. “It’s two hundred thousand livres, more or less. The royal treasury, all in one place. The king feared the castellan of Beestone might revolt, so he had the coins that were stored there sent over, in addition to the treasure he brought from the palace. If Estian knew it was here, we’d be in trouble. The greedy savage!”

Ransom was agog at the number of wagons, each with its own guard. Big, sturdy locks were fixed to the rear doors, intended to deflect an axe blade. Ransom and his knights dismounted, and they passed through the ranks of mercenaries already assembled in the courtyard. He saw encouraging nods and smiles from several of them and wondered how many had previously served under his command.

They were greeted at the inner doors by Lady Deborah of Thorngate castle. The diminutive woman’s hair was now more gray than nut brown, and her smile was welcoming and relieved.

“Lady Deborah,” he said, bowing to her. He turned to his knights. “Get some food and rest. Tend to the horses.”

His command was obeyed, and he stayed outside with Lady Deborah while the bodyguard who’d accompanied him entered the castle. “I’ll tell the king you’re here, Lord Ransom,” he called over his shoulder.

“You’re a long way from Thorngate,” Ransom said to Lady Deborah, smiling.

She shook her head. “With all the chaos happening in the North, I thought I would be of most use if I came here and tried to reason with the king. You couldn’t have come at a better time, Ransom.”

“What’s going on?” Ransom asked.

“I’ll let the king tell you his troubles. Do you have a plan? I’ve never seen the realm in such a precarious position. If we don’t act together, Ceredigion will fall to its enemies. I’m certain of it. Our nation will be no more.”

“I agree,” Ransom said. “Shall we go inside?”

“Yes. So many are staring at us. Come.”

They entered the castle and started walking down the main corridor. Servants bustled about, carrying chests in both directions. Baggage had been arranged in haphazard stacks, and they were attempting to organize the chaos.

“What are your intentions?” she asked him as they moved along.

“We cannot afford to squabble amongst ourselves when the kingdom is so vulnerable,” he replied. “I was going to offer to go to Lord Kiskaddon and negotiate a truce.”

“Impossible. He’d never relent.”

“He might if he feels there is reason to hope there will be no reprisals against him and that things will be different going forward. The king’s behavior has ruined trust among the nobles.”

“Such things are not repaired so easily. How can you mend trust once it’s broken?”

“Maybe it is beyond the point of repair, but if we do nothing, we die by suicide. You think Kiskaddon believes he’ll get better terms from Estian?”

“I’m convinced of it. Though you know, as I do, that Estian will promise silver and deliver dross.” She shrugged. “But at least he hasn’t betrayed his own nobles.”

“Then help me persuade the king that it serves his own interests to be forgiving. That he caused this contention, and he will lose everything, including his life, if he persists in alienating those who serve him.”

“He will bristle if you put it like that.”

“I’m a plain-speaking man and always have been. If he cannot stomach the truth, then he’ll continue to sicken on his own pride. Can I count on you to help me talk sense into him?”

“Of course, Ransom. That’s why I’m here as well. I think . . . it’s possible even the queen will support you. She’s young, but she’s not as naive as she seems. She asked me, privately, if I knew that Jon-Landon had ordered the deaths of all of the hostages. I still don’t know who told her. I’ve tried to enlist her help, but she is too worried about hurting Jon-Landon’s feelings. Your arrival could alter things. No. It will alter them.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll do my best.”

They reached the great hall, where Ransom found the king pacing nervously, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore a short sword and a dagger, and Ransom saw the glint of a hauberk beneath his elegant tunic and a chain hood pulled down around his neck. When he saw Ransom, he swallowed and offered a strained smile, the look of a man besieged on all sides and struggling to hope.

Ransom approached Jon-Landon and dropped to one knee before him. “My lord, thank you for granting me an audience.”

“Rise, Ransom—rise!” He took Ransom’s hands and squeezed them. “It is good to see you again!”

The show of affection, which seemed genuine, shocked him.

“Come to the solar. Léa is there. Your sons are here with Sir Dawson—a very capable knight. I asked if he’d be captain of my guard, and he refused me outright, saying his loyalty was to you. Should I be jealous?” he added with a chuckle, but he wasn’t being vicious.

“I should like to see my sons, but let’s talk first. In the solar if you prefer.”

“I do. Come.” He put his hand on Ransom’s shoulder as they walked. “You as well, Deborah. You know I value your counsel.” He lowered his voice a little. “I’m sorry about the storm that caught you at sea, but it hastened our meeting. I’m grateful for that. I’ve always known I could count on you. You said as much, before I sent you back to Legault. How is Claire?”

“Worried, no doubt,” Ransom answered. The transformation in Jon-Landon’s mood was startling. But his easy manner and grace, compared to the way he’d always received Ransom in the past, were grating. He could practically hear Claire telling him that Jon-Landon was only acting pleasant because he needed Ransom. “Things are calmer now in Legault.”

“She’s a canny woman. I’ve always admired her. You chose well. No, actually, I believe she chose you. Clever lass. I don’t think she and I would have mixed very well. I’m quite happy with Léa. Do you remember when you found us, walking hand in hand, along these very shores?”

“I do, my lord.”

After leaving the great hall and climbing the stairs, they reached the solar. The space was familiar, yet it had changed quite a bit from when Lord Kinghorn had lived there. There were more decorations, fewer books. The window was open, letting in the sound of the surf crashing outside. The queen was playing a game of Wizr with her son, who smiled at the sight of Ransom. His little hand lifted in a wave. The princess wasn’t there. A tall, gaunt man with long hair and bloodshot eyes stood in the corner. Ransom recognized him as the head of the Espion. Bodkin had the look of a murderer.

The queen rose from her chair and inclined her head to Ransom. She wore her jewelry—a decorative crown, necklace, and rings on most of her fingers. She looked too young to have had two children already. For a long moment, she just stared at him without speaking, giving him a curious look, as if she were weighing him in her mind.

“You did come,” she finally said.

Lady Deborah shut the door behind her and went to the brazier to warm her hands.

Jon-Landon kissed his wife on her forehead, actually on the band of the crown, and turned, grinning with eagerness. “I must say, Ransom, you’ve come at a desperate hour.”

“So it seems,” he replied. “What is the state of things?”

The king turned to the Espion. “Bodkin—you tell him.”

The Espion leader straightened, his narrow shoulders drooping. “At your command, my liege.” His voice had a nasal inflection and was slightly high pitched. “Where to start? Southport has been taken. Some of the people fled, some stayed and begged for their lives. I wonder how long the Duke of Garrone will suffer them to live? That gives him a stronghold within striking distance of Kingfountain. Which . . . as you probably already know . . . is being held by the blackguard Lord Kiskaddon.” His eyes narrowed, and his lips twisted into a sneer as he said the name. “Atabyrion is attacking North Cumbria from the east and Lord Faulkes from the south. Wigant is caught between them. Won’t end well for your brother-in-law.”