She had known this man since childhood and never with any fondness, finding perhaps too clear a reflection in his naked ambition. But the sons with whom she had played as a child had never faltered in loving him, for all his flaws. “Alucius will be honoured for all time in this Realm,” she said. “Your house is partially cleansed of dishonour by his sacrifice.”
“A dead son has no need of honour. And I have two to face in the Beyond if you would do me the favour of sending me there.”
Her gaze went back to the scratches on the wall, finding two words legible in the scrawl sufficient to divine the meaning of the rest.
“I have no mercy for you, my lord,” she told him. “Only more punishment. Lord Iltis!”
The Lord Protector returned, standing at stiff readiness as she pointed to the shackles on Al Hestian’s ankles. “Remove those and bring him.”
Darnel’s former knights and huntsmen stood blinking in the courtyard outside the cavernous vaults that served as the city’s dungeons. They numbered perhaps three dozen men, stripped of all armour and possessions save for threadbare clothing, surrounded on all sides by Lord Adal’s North Guard, chosen for the strength of their discipline; the Realm Guard were likely to commit massacre when faced with those who had betrayed them at the first fateful clash with the Volarians. Lyrna led Al Hestian to a walkway looking down on the assembled prisoners, finding most too cowed to meet her gaze, though some stared up in silent entreaty.
“You know these men, I believe?” Lyrna asked him.
Al Hestian looked down at the captives, his impassive mask unchanged. “Not well enough to grieve their passing, if it is Your Highness’s intention to have me witness their murder.”
She moved away from him and stepped closer to the edge of the walkway, raising her voice. “You all stand guilty of treason and worthy of immediate execution. Many of you will no doubt make a defence of loyalty, service to an oath binding for life. I tell you now this is no defence, an oath sworn to a traitorous madman is worthless, to be set aside by men of reason or true knightly honour. You have shown yourselves possessed of neither.” She paused to glance at Al Hestian, finding him meeting her gaze with grim understanding.
“However,” she spoke on, “the Faith teaches us the value of forgiveness for acts truly regretted. And this Realm stands in need of all hands fit to hold a sword. For these reasons alone I offer you the chance to swear another oath, an oath to your queen. Swear your service to me and I will spare your lives. But know that your sentence is not commuted, condemned you stand and condemned you remain until the day battle claims you. You will be the Dead Company. Any who do not wish to swear this oath, speak now.”
She waited, watching them tremble and sag in relief. One man, a great broad-chested fellow of knightly bearing, wept openly whilst beside him a scrawny man, probably a hunter, stood shuddering, with urine flowing down both legs. She waited for a full minute but no voices were raised.
“My lord,” she turned to Al Hestian, gesturing at the men below. “Your new command awaits, if you’ll accept it.”
Lakrhil Al Hestian stood expressionless for some time before replying with the smallest of bows.
“Very well,” she said. “In addition to these wretches, our patrols find the country to be depressingly rich in outlaws, scum preying on those fleeing the Volarians. Rapists and murderers will be executed of course, but the remainder I’ll send to you.” She moved to his side, speaking softly. “You have your sons to thank for your life. And know well, I will not prove as kind as my father should you betray this Realm once more.”
• • •
She returned to the palace in the evening having spent the day amongst the newly arrived refugees, finding the usual mix of beggared nobles and dispossessed commoners each with their own epic of woe and survival. As in Warnsclave, however, there were precious few children and those mostly orphans. She had them gathered and conveyed to the palace rooms set aside for Brother Innis’s charges where she spent the rest of the evening.
It was amazing to see how quickly the children’s spirits returned as they raced around her, loud with laughter and play, though there were a few who sat apart from the others, eyes haunted by lingering horrors. She spent most time with the silent ones, speaking in soft tones and trying to draw them out, usually with only marginal success though one little boy climbed into her lap and fell into an immediate sleep the moment she opened her arms to him. She stayed and sat with him as night fell and the others went to their beds, waking somewhere past midnight at Murel’s gentle nudge.
