Lady's Ransom (The First Argentines, #3)

“So we have to sit here and wait?”

“I’m afraid so, my lord. We’d risk an accident if we tried to force our way in right now. Again, I’m sorry.”

They were forced to anchor off the coast near a spit of land and wait for the ships blocking the way to depart. The wait was maddening, and he paced restlessly on the deck until the captain whistled for his attention. Two smaller boats were rowing toward them. When they came alongside the cog, he saw a knight wearing the Raven badge.

“The duchess was informed about your ship,” said the knight, cupping his hand around his mouth to amplify his voice. “You bear the king’s emblem.”

“Aye,” said the captain. “We’re from Kingfountain. Lord Ransom has a message for the duchess.”

“She thought that might be the case,” said the knight. “We were ordered to row out and bring him in. When the shipping lane clears, come into the harbor.”

Grateful for the reprieve, Ransom took a rope offered by one of the sailors and used it to climb down into one of the boats below. They rowed hard, keeping a distance between their small craft and the ships exiting the cove, and made their way toward the docks.

The knight escorted Ransom to the Hall of Justice, where he found a boisterous crowd had gathered to speak to the duchess. His stomach dropped when he saw the crowd, but the knight took him to an antechamber and told him to wait there.

Another indeterminable stretch of time lay before him, and he sighed with growing unease at having to wait again. What was Claire doing? How was the work on the castle progressing? He longed to be there.

But his concern proved unwarranted when Constance opened the door moments later, entering the chamber hand in hand with her son, Drew. She still wore black, as she had at Ransom’s wedding, but the dress had a stately cut, and her jewelry added a splash of color.

“Welcome back to Ploemeur, Lord Ransom.” She squeezed the boy’s hand. “Be courteous, Andrew.”

The little boy smiled at him. “Hello. Can I hold your sword?”

“Andrew,” the mother scolded.

“But I want it. Look, Maman, it has the Raven on the sheath!”

Ransom approached the two of them and bowed his head in greeting.

She beheld him with a serious expression. “You were at the grove recently. Weren’t you?”

“I was, my lady. How did you know?”

“When the Gradalis is used, it sends out a tremor of sorts, like a distant peal of thunder. I felt it in my bones. It happened in the morning.”

“Yes,” Ransom agreed. “I was summoned to defend the grove.”

“I thought so. I sent knights to investigate, but there was nothing there when they arrived. It has caused me a few sleepless nights. What happened there?”

He was grateful no one was there but the three of them. “There were men there, swordsmen trying to take the Gradalis. They attacked me as soon as I arrived. Some were already dead when I arrived. I’m not sure what caused it, but the rest . . . I killed, my lady. And then the ground swallowed the corpses.”

“The grove has its own magical protections,” Constance explained. “Those who try to use the Gradalis summon a hailstorm, brought on by the bowl’s magic. Anyone caught unawares can be smitten severely, even killed.” Her lips pressed together tightly. “Do you have any idea where they were from?”

“I did get a clue. One of them had a necklace with the emblem of a fish—”

“Kerjean!” she said suddenly, interrupting.

“I think you have it right. I’ve been to Kerjean, and it was the same symbol.” He reached into his pocket and produced the necklace and charm. It was something he carried with him, a reminder of his obligation to protect the Gradalis from those who would steal it. It served as a reminder also of Alix’s treachery and his commitment to avenging the deaths of Devon the Younger and Elder.

“The symbol of the Fisher Kings,” she added when she saw it. “They were the original guardians of the Gradalis, as I told you before.” Her fingers played distractedly in her son’s hair. The boy looked so innocent that Ransom felt a surge of protectiveness toward him. He put the necklace back into his pocket. “They’re hunting for it. They will continue to. It concerns me that they made it this far. Have you told anyone?”

“No, my lady,” Ransom said, shaking his head.

“Not even Lady Claire? Not even your wife?”

“I haven’t,” he said. “The Fountain bid me not to.”

She let out a worried sigh. “If you’ve come from Kingfountain, then you’ve already heard the news about the Chandleer Oasis. Is that correct?”

“Yes, and I come bearing orders from the king and the new justiciar.”

“Longmont?” she asked, her voice betraying a feeling of loathing.

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“Oh yes, to be sure. You know that our duchies border each other. He was a frequent visitor to Ploemeur. He has expensive tastes. When he was with Duke Benedict, he was all grace and agreeability. But when he came alone, he was rather imperious. He acted as if he were the Duke of Vexin.”

Ransom wasn’t surprised, and his worries now multiplied. Although he thought Benedict had the makings of a fine king, he didn’t always exercise good discernment. As when he’d trusted Estian when he shouldn’t have. “I’m sorry to hear it.”

“I learned about the East Kingdoms because of the trading alliances we have with Genevar. In fact, I knew of it before the queen did. As a result, we’ve been saving grain and preparing for famine should this affair end poorly.” She gave him a worried look. “Has the king asked you to accompany him?”

“No, I’m to stay and defend the realm. Longmont was made justiciar, but the king has given his mother and me the power to check him.”

Her eyes closed with relief. She knelt by her son and kissed his cheek. “Go bring some berries for Lord Ransom. Would you do that, please?”

“Yes, Maman,” the boy said and quickly hurried out of the room.

“I’m relieved,” she said after he was gone. “For selfish reasons, to be sure. My son means the world to me. If anything were to happen to him . . . but I also fear for the king’s life. Is it true that the kings of Brugia, Occitania, and Ceredigion are going to fight together?”

“That’s what the king said,” replied Ransom. “None of them trust each other. But Genevar has brought everyone together to fight for a mutual cause. Benedict is to marry the doge’s daughter.”

“Yes, Lady Portia,” said Constance. “I had news of it last night.”

“The king said they’re to be married in a fortnight.”

“Not that soon,” she replied with an enigmatic smile. “The doge is clever. The wedding will not happen at Kingfountain but at the Isle of Cerest, a Genevese stronghold east of Brugia. And the doge will not allow the marriage agreement to be consummated until all three kings have set out for the East Kingdoms. Benedict will march south with our Genevese allies. Estian will command the vanguard and march through the desert to strike from the west. And King Rotbart of Brugia will attack from the south.”

Ransom glanced at her in concern. Did Benedict even know this information? It certainly hadn’t been shared at court. “My lady, this information . . . how did you come by it?”

She gave him a pointed look. “From the doge’s ambassador. He sought out an audience with me to ask whether Benedict is a man of his word. The threat from the East Kingdoms is real, Ransom, though none of us know what spurred it. When I learned Benedict was going to fight, I assumed that you would go with him. If he were wise, he would take you. But I must say that I’m glad he decided not to.” She lowered her voice. “If he perishes in this war, then my son may someday become King of Ceredigion. I don’t trust Jon-Landon. So I am grateful that you are staying.”