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

“What brings you all the way from Glosstyr, Simon?” Ransom asked, feeling a pit inside his stomach. For Simon to have arrived with the morning tide, he must have left Glosstyr the night before. Night voyages were risky, especially at the change of the seasons, so this was not idle news.

“I couldn’t entrust it to a messenger,” Simon answered. He looked at Dearley and then back at them. “Can we speak privately?” Claire motioned to the servants to disperse, and they did. Dearley bowed to take his leave, but Ransom asked him to stay. As the first knight of Ransom’s mesnie, he was given more liberties than some of the other knights.

After the servants had left and shut the door, Simon began to pace.

“This is ill news indeed,” Claire said, “if you begin in such a manner. Out with it, Simon.”

He sighed and turned to face them both. “Last night I had a message from Lady Deborah. Jon-Landon showed up at her castle.”

“He left Atabyrion,” Ransom said with growing dread.

“But why did he go to Lady Deborah?” Claire asked in confusion.

“You know she was part of the Elder King’s council,” Simon answered. “She’s also in charge of Thorngate castle, which Longmont has tried to claim as a royal castle. It’s hers by right, of course, and she isn’t a young lady who can be taken in wardship, although that was exactly what Longmont tried to do. He wants to increase Benedict’s power and weaken those who were once loyal to the Elder King. Believe me, I haven’t passed on half of the complaints I’ve heard from Ashel and Rainor. They both feel they’re being edged out of the king’s council. Jon-Landon is using the unrest to insert himself. He’s seeking allies. You know he and Lord James have long been friends. So he went to Dundrennan first and then to Thorngate. She sent me word right away and asked that I get a message to you.”

“Does Emiloh know?” Claire asked.

Simon shook his head. “I don’t think so. I thought it best to come here first. You and the queen dowager were to put a check on Longmont’s power. I tell you, Ransom, he’s a conniving, duplicitous powermonger. And that’s being generous. He’s done nothing to alienate you because he’s afraid of you. But he’s acting like an arrogant git and giving Jon-Landon an opening. If the prince isn’t back in Atabyrion before winter, he won’t go back at all. He could try to seize the throne.”

Ransom closed his eyes, feeling the queasiness increase. The king had only been gone for five months, and already the situation was deteriorating.

“How long would it take to get a message to King Benedict?” Claire asked.

Simon shrugged. “Four months with a fast ship? By the time the messenger would reach him, he’d already be wintering on the Isle of Korfe.”

“I can’t send a message to him without talking to Emiloh first,” Ransom said. “She could command her son to return to Atabyrion.”

“But will he listen to her? Their relationship is strained, Ransom.” Claire tossed her head. “Jon-Landon may be gambling that Benedict has committed himself too much to the cause to come back. He could be gone for years and then out of earshot if something happens.”

“Ransom, you have to come,” Simon said, putting his hands on the table. “This is a moment of crisis. If you return, it changes the situation.”

Ransom looked at Claire’s pale cheeks. Simon was right, but what if he couldn’t return before the winter storms? What if they would be separated for the entire season? He wanted to clench his fist and slam the table in frustration.

“I have to concur with Simon, Ransom,” she said in a resentful tone. “This is Jon-Landon’s best chance at stealing power. Even a half-brained lackwit like Jon-Landon can see that.” She put her hand on Ransom’s clenched one. “If you go now, it may frighten him back to Atabyrion. And something has to be done about Longmont. Sadly, it is the nature and disposition of some men to let power go to their heads. Longmont drinks it like some men drink wine. He’s an eejit. Knock some sense into him.”

Ransom rose from the chair. “Were there any signs of storms when you left?”

“No, but there were some ugly-looking clouds behind us. We might have to follow the coast toward Ploemeur.”

That made sense as well. The open sea between Connaught and Glosstyr could be perilous, although it was a shorter distance.

Claire rose from her seat. “You brought ill news, Simon of Holmberg. Next time, you owe us something better.”

“I’ll try my best, my lady,” he said.

“Any word from Brugia or Occitania?” she asked him.

“Estian has arrived at his position for the winter. And King Rotbart has reached the coast to establish a beachhead. It’s not too late for any of them to turn back. If Benedict returns, the others will as well. But I don’t think he will. He married Portia, so he’s committed himself to this war. He’s trusting in you, Ransom, to defend Ceredigion while he’s away.”

“And he couldn’t have chosen a better man to see it done,” Claire said. “Did you rest during the voyage, Simon? Do you need some sleep?”

“I am exhausted,” he confessed. “I don’t sleep well on boats.”

“I don’t blame you. Dearley?”

“I’ll see it done, my lady,” Dearley said, responding quickly to the need. As the two of them left, the door shutting behind them, Ransom looked at Claire in concern.

“I will do everything in my power to be back before winter,” he said.

“I know; it’s not that,” she said, shaking her head.

“Then what is it?”

She turned to him. “Don’t go to Ploemeur.”

He pushed his chair backward and looked at her in surprise. “Why not? It would be safer to follow the coast.”

“I know, Ransom. You’re going to think ill of me, but I must speak from the heart. I have an unfounded fear of the duchess. Her husband is dead, she has a little boy, and you’re kindhearted to a fault. I can see you have some feelings of loyalty to her, and I fear . . . I don’t know . . . that those feelings might cloud your . . . I’m being foolish.” She closed her eyes, her face twisting with concern and worry. When she opened them again, she gave him an imploring look. “Don’t break my heart, Ransom. So many husbands stray. If I mean anything to you, don’t ever be unfaithful to me.” She looked down, tears thickening on her lashes.

The loyalty she sensed was real, but he couldn’t explain the reason for it without sharing the secret of the Gradalis. However much he wanted to tell her about his secret duty, he knew he could not. The Fountain had warned him the Gradalis would be stolen if he spoke of it to anyone.

Reaching out, he tilted her chin so that she looked at him. “If it concerns you this much, we will not go that way.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Now I’m the fool eejit. If there is a terrible storm raging and you need a safe harbor, by all means go to Ploemeur to avoid shipwreck. I shouldn’t have let my fears leave my lips. I trust you, Ransom. Truly, I do. Maybe every woman with child has these fears. I worry I’ve become grotesque and you’ll lose your desire for me.”

He gave her a knowing smile. “Never. I will return as soon as I can.”

She nodded and then thumped his chest with her fists. “You’d better not miss the birth of your child, Ransom Barton. I’m giving you fair warning.”





Before Ransom left with Simon of Holmberg, we rode horses into the meadows beneath Connaught castle. On the north side of the meadow a farmer had grown an enormous harvest of pumpkins. Some of them were too big for a man to lift. Many were carted up to the castle for winter storage, but there were several left. And so the young squires were brought down from the training yard with their swords, and they practiced the knightly art of decapitation on these orange husks.