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

The storm that had battered the ship finally eased with the coming dawn. Ransom had barely slept that night, his healing wounds causing less discomfort than the tumultuous waves. When at last the deep surrendered its violence, he fell asleep, only to be wakened—what felt like moments later—at dawn with the pronouncement that they were nearing the harbor of Glosstyr.

He wore a new tunic the Duchess of Brythonica had provided for him. The mud was gone, but not the memories of the fight in the grove. A fight he’d nearly lost. Constance’s men had retrieved his sword and Alix’s dagger for him from the grove.

He rose from his bed and joined the captain up on deck, where he felt the cool morning breeze on his face. His heart swelled at the sight of Glosstyr.

“We’ll be coming in with the tide by the look of it,” said the captain. “Did you manage any sleep, my lord?”

Weariness blurred Ransom’s eyes. “A bit. Thank you for getting me home safely.”

“What the duchess commands, so I do,” said the captain. “Have you any word on the East Kingdoms, my lord? How fares King Benedict?”

“He hasn’t reached them yet. He’ll winter on an island first.”

“And it’s true he’s married the doge’s daughter?”

“Aye. It’s true.”

“Our new queen and we don’t even know her,” said the captain. “Better than an Occitanian bride, I should say. There cannot be peace between us. We’re like two brothers who can do naught but squabble.”

It was well put. The conflict between Ceredigion and Occitania had dominated their history. The two kingdoms seemed destined to clash. But why? Had it all started because of a game on a magic Wizr board? To what purpose, and why had it gone on for so long?

After they docked, he thanked the captain again and tromped his way to the castle, where his sudden and unexpected arrival caused a storm of surprise. His bones and joints were weary, his Fountain magic still at ebb tide, but he made his way to his room without any assistance from the buzz of servants hustling nearby. He took off the Brythonican tunic and exchanged it for one of his own.

A knock sounded on the door, and Simon entered before Ransom could respond.

“By the Lady, Ransom—I’ve got a search party scouring the countryside for you!”

Ransom smiled wryly. “Call it off. I’m safe.”

“There’ve been reports of marauders hitting north of here at Blackpool. You look terrible. Are you well?”

“I’m weary,” Ransom said. “I had a private duty to attend to, so I sent the knights on ahead. I didn’t realize I’d be so delayed by the storm.”

“I’m just grateful you’re alive. Lady Claire would have had my head if anything happened to you. Not to mention the queen dowager.”

Ransom looked at Simon seriously. “What news of the siege? I feel urgency to return. Has the castle held?”

Simon laughed. “It’s over. Lord Dougal was captured and executed. News of it arrived yesterday. She’s safe, the rebellion is crushed. So what business did you have?”

Relieved by the tidings, Ransom shook his head. “I can’t speak of it. I’m sorry. But I’m glad Claire is safe. When I got her message at Kingfountain, I was desperate with worry.”

Simon smiled. “Yes, we were all relieved to get the message.” He paused. “Is it true? Is Jon-Landon at Kingfountain now?”

“Yes, that’s no secret. Thank you for summoning me. The prince is determined to overthrow Longmont. He aimed to cause an uproar, but I think we managed to quell it for now. Emiloh will stay at Kingfountain. I must get back to Legault.”

“Now that the storm has ended at last, you can,” Simon said. “But there are some matters we need to discuss before you leave. I’d like to discuss your income and the expense of repairing Connaught. Can you give me some time before you go?”

“Of course. But I’m too weary at the moment, Simon. I could use some rest.”

Simon studied him with greater scrutiny. “Are you injured, Ransom? Shall I fetch a barber?”

“There is no need.” The light shining from the Raven scabbard was dimming, its work nearly done. Ransom’s wrist was tender, but it was whole again. His body felt like a hollow well, though, empty of power.

After Simon left, Ransom picked up the Brythonican tunic and folded it. Not sure what else to do with it, he took it to his closet and put it at the bottom of a chest. Being here, in this room he had shared with Claire, he missed her even more.



In the afternoon, Ransom went to the training yard to test out his body. As he practiced with his sword, he felt the gentle lapping of the Fountain again, the soothing reassurance that the loss of power wasn’t permanent. The confidence he felt with weapons returned, and he lost himself in the afternoon, unaware of the passage of time as he pushed himself and found solace in the routines of training.

A servant rushed into the training yard. “My lord, a ship has come from Connaught. Sir Dearley is here.”

Ransom sheathed his sword, mopped sweat from his neck with a rag, and then followed the servant back into the castle. He met Dearley in the solar, and the two friends greeted each other warmly.

“You are here!” Dearley said with surprise. “I thought you’d still be in Kingfountain, but Lady Claire insisted I come here first.”

“It’s good to see you,” Ransom said. “All is well?”

“Yes, now that Dougal is no more. Do you know how they execute traitors in Legault? They’re burned alive! It’s a horrid practice. He screamed for a good long while. I shudder at the memory. But he deserved what he got, the knave. He attacked as soon as you were gone.”

“So I heard,” Ransom said. “What’s become of his family?”

“Lord Tenthor evicted them from the castle. It’s now de Murrow land. The widow was given a cottage, I think. And their sons are being held by Tenthor. He saved the day, Ransom. His loyalty should be rewarded.”

“I can’t agree more,” Ransom said. “When news of the siege came, I was beside myself.”

“So were we,” Dearley confided. “The danger was real. We lost many good knights and soldiers defending the castle. If Tenthor had turned against us, we would have lost.” His voice became more somber as he spoke. “I did my best, Ransom, but . . . I’m not you.”

It added to his guilt to hear how close it had come. He squeezed his hand into a fist, almost regretful that Dougal had already been executed. He wanted revenge, and now there was none to be had. At least Claire had been granted her revenge. “I’m glad you’re all right. And so is she.”

“I have some news of my own to share,” Dearley said, his expression brightening. “Elodie is expecting as well. We’re a little behind you and Claire, but we count ourselves blessed by the Fountain for such good news.”

“Well done,” Ransom said approvingly. “Have you warned her of the sickness?”

“I dare not,” Dearley said. “I’m nervous, of course. But it’s excellent news. A family! I had no one, growing up, and I couldn’t be more chuffed. Shall we return to Connaught, then? The tide goes out before midnight. We could be there at dawn.”

“We will,” Ransom said, gripping Dearley’s shoulder. “I’m so happy for you. Truly, you and Elodie deserve this.”

Dearley grinned. “So what happened about Jon-Landon?”

“Let me tell you all of it,” Ransom said, and he did.



The crossing to Legault was much calmer than the previous night’s journey, and Ransom was able to sleep peacefully through the voyage. He awoke before dawn and went above deck, breathing in the salty air and gazing at the inky horizon, wishing for the sun to rise so that he might see his beloved’s homeland.