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

We have enough knights to defend ourselves. I wish we had enough to attack them. But Lord Dougal has at least ten times our number. He’s clearing the woods at the base of the hill for firewood and siege weapons. Every tree that falls makes me want to curse him more. I’ve sent a ship to Kingfountain to get word to Ransom. But I have no way of knowing whether it prevailed against the storm.

I have all the archers here taking aim at Lord Dougal’s men. We make a little sport of it, how many we can hit from a distance. After night falls, I might send some knights down to attack the camp. I’ve offered a reward of five thousand livres for the man who brings me Lord Dougal in chains.

—Claire de Murrow

Connaught Castle

The perilous siege





CHAPTER ELEVEN


The Argentine Prince


Longmont had evicted DeVaux’s daughter from Ransom’s room, and all Ransom’s chests and clothes had been returned and configured the way he’d left them. So it surprised him to find Lady Léa pacing the corridor right outside his door when he returned, sweaty and dirty, from practicing in the courtyard. A maidservant stood nearby.

Ransom frowned when he saw her but did not slow.

“Ah, Lord Ransom,” she said, giving him a nervous smile.

“Did you leave something behind?” he asked her. “The door was unlocked.”

“I know, I tried it,” she said, offering an apologetic look. “It was you I came to see. Please don’t be cross with me, Lord Ransom. I was very rude to you, and I’m embarrassed by my conduct.”

He arched his eyebrows. Was she being sincere or merely currying favor? He couldn’t tell. “It’s in the past,” he said dismissively.

“That’s kind of you, of course.” She fidgeted with her hands. “I do remember you now. I was very young when you came to Roque Keep. You probably don’t remember me.”

“I don’t,” Ransom said. And it was true. He vaguely remembered DeVaux’s wife but didn’t recall taking any special notice of the man’s children.

“I remember you limping,” she said. “Your injuries looked very painful. I’m glad you are well now.”

“Is that why you wanted to see me? To apologize?”

“Yes, for myself and for my father.” She gave him an artful smile. “You’re a powerful lord now. I beg your forgiveness.”

He rubbed the thin scruff of beard on his chin. Had Lord DeVaux put her up to this little speech? It felt like it. He was the kind of man who would use his daughter to test whether a man was still an enemy.

“I thank you for the apology,” he said. “Good day.”

A disappointed wrinkle creased her brow, but she did a little curtsy and walked away to join her maid. Ransom opened the door, and as he shut it, he heard some tittering laughter behind him.

Léa DeVaux might be very young, but she was already far too cunning for a little girl.



It would take a while for Emiloh’s messenger to get to the Isle of Korfe and back by ship, assuming the weather didn’t interfere. Ransom worried about being away from Legault for that long, but he was confident in Claire’s ability to handle any problems that arose. He’d sent messages to her, but fearing interception from the Espion, he’d kept them rather vague. He hadn’t received a single missive from her.

On an afternoon a fortnight after his arrival in Kingfountain, he was sitting in the solar with Emiloh, telling her the story of Lord Tenthor’s attempt to bribe him, when Longmont came rushing into the room with a feverish look.

Ransom sat up in his chair and looked at the justiciar with interest.

“You’ve found my son,” the queen dowager said.

“Yes, how did you know?” Longmont said in surprise.

“By the nature of your rushed entrance. Speak, Damian. Where is he?”

“He was found in East Stowe,” Longmont answered. “Duke Ashel is bringing him to Kingfountain immediately, accompanied by a hundred knights.”

Emiloh and Ransom exchanged looks. That was a sizable show of force. It was a sign of distrust. A show of power.

“How far are they from Kingfountain?” Ransom asked.

“As you know, East Stowe is just north of here. They should arrive this evening. I was going to send two hundred men to take custody of him and tell Duke Ashel to return to East Stowe.”

“That wouldn’t be wise,” Emiloh said. “What if he refuses to come with your men?”

Longmont frowned, looking offended. “I have the right to—”

“I’m not talking about your right, Damian. I’m talking about prudence. A hundred knights . . . Ashel is making a statement. What are your thoughts, Ransom?”

Duke Ashel was one of the Elder King’s most loyal men. He was also one of the older leaders of the realm, one whose health had been precarious in the past.

“Ashel was loyal to your husband. He may have transferred that allegiance to Jon-Landon. I think he’s felt slighted by his diminished role on the king’s council.”

Longmont huffed. “He should be grateful to be on the king’s council at all!”

Emiloh rubbed her forehead, straining to exhibit patience. “Damian, most men don’t accept a fall from grace with any degree of gratitude. Regardless of the reasons for it. You think he’s resentful, then, Ransom?”

“I don’t know him well, but he was often surly, even with Devon.”

Emiloh gazed at him thoughtfully. “Ashel was rewarded with the duchy of East Stowe after Gervase relinquished the hollow crown. He has a son, whom he no doubt wishes to succeed him. Perhaps he has been given reason to doubt his son will inherit his title?” As she said this last part, her gaze shifted to Longmont, who scowled.

“By your own words, my lady, King Benedict has every right to name his own dukes.”

“Has Ashel proven himself disloyal?”

“His present conduct is highly suspicious!”

“Stop being defensive and listen to me,” Emiloh said. “Jon-Landon chose to return to Dundrennan. He’s always favored James Wigant. They were boon companions, you might say. Then he went to Thorngate, which is also to the north, between Glosstyr and East Stowe. Another potential ally since Lady Deborah has also been treated unfavorably by you.”

Longmont bristled again, but he didn’t speak.

“Next, East Stowe. In just a few days, he’s caused considerable damage. If he leads the northern duchies into rebellion, it could cause great harm.”

Longmont looked flustered. “Are you saying it’s my fault? I object, my lady. I have only acted in the king’s best interest. I assure you, he has no love for Ashel or Wigant. But he didn’t intend to depose either of them at this point.”

Ransom was losing patience. “‘At this point’? You’ve taken pains to stay in good standing with me. You’ve given me rewards I don’t need.”

“Are you ungrateful for them?” Longmont countered.

“What we’re trying to help you see,” Emiloh said, “is that you have contributed to the situation. And your instinct to send armed knights to collect Jon-Landon will likely not end well. If you pull too hard on a longbow, it will eventually snap and injure the archer.”

Longmont began to tap his bottom lip as he started pacing. Her words had clearly upset him, but he was pondering what she’d said. He wasn’t ignoring them. “Ashel wouldn’t have dared to bring a hundred knights if Benedict were here,” he said with resentment.

“You aren’t Benedict,” Ransom said.

“Indeed not,” offered Emiloh.

The justiciar screwed up his face. “What do you suggest we do, then, my lady?”

“That we welcome Jon-Landon home in a manner befitting his rank. As a prince, not as a prisoner.”

Longmont’s eyebrows lifted high in shock. “You mean with trumpeters and flower petals and that sort of nonsense? He’s broken his sworn word to remain in Atabyrion. You can have no illusions, madam, that he envisions himself sitting on Bennett’s throne.”

“Of course he does. I’m counting on it.”

Ransom began to understand. “A ratcatcher uses bait to trick them into a trap. A wise hunter waits where the stag is going to drink.”

Emiloh smiled at him and inclined her head.