Dark Moon Defender by Sharon Shinn
She returned her attention to her older brother. “Kiernan could tell us.”
Kiernan gave an indifferent shrug. “There was almost a match between them, but then one day we got word that she had eloped with Halchon. Everyone nodded and said that Sabina had chosen the higher title, for now she would be marlady. Nate was convinced she had been abducted and forced to wed. Our father was furious—following so closely on the heels of your refusal to marry Halchon, it was a second time he had been thwarted in an attempt to arrange a marriage between Brassenthwaite and Gisseltess. Before he could try again, he had died.”
“And all these years Nate has nursed a broken heart,” Will said.
“Hardly that,” Kiernan said, very dryly. “But he had no incentive to wed.”
“Well, I never thought Nate was the type to inspire undying love in anyone, but the marlady seems to hold him in affection still,” Senneth said. “She grew all giggly and shy at the idea of seeing him again.”
Kiernan’s eyes narrowed. “That could create an unfortunate situation.”
“Or a fortunate one!” she said gaily. “Think far into the future, Kiernan! Imagine war over and Halchon dead—wouldn’t you like to marry off one of your brothers to the widowed marlady of Gisseltess? Acting as stepfather to Halchon’s young sons?”
Will laughed and Kiernan gave her a wintry smile. “A lot of ground to cover before we could celebrate those nuptials,” Kiernan said.
“Well, I see interesting days ahead,” she replied.
Will took her arm and drew her deeper into the room, and they all sat. Senneth glanced around. This study used to be their father’s favorite room and the place she hated most in the world. Kiernan—or, more likely, his wife—had refurbished and rearranged the decor so that the room was now far more pleasant. It was still very masculine, with its green upholstered chairs and matching curtains, innocent of any pattern. The walls were covered with maps of Gillengaria and a detailed sketch of every acre of Brassenthwaite. The desk was piled with papers and opened mail packets. Senneth was willing to bet that, if she had the time and inclination, she could read through all the items collected in that one place and come away knowing everything there was to know about Brassenthwaite—from the souls under its protection, to the taxes owed, to the number of men of fighting age currently undergoing training on some vassal’s back property.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” Will said. “Tell us where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing! You’re always so mysterious.”
“I was just in Coravann, trying to make deals with Heffel’s in-laws,” she said.
Will didn’t make the connection, but Kiernan did. “His Lirren relatives, you mean? Were they interested in joining our war?”
“Not particularly. Well, the old men weren’t. But the young ones—a few of them could be tempted. From what I can tell, the sebahta are fairly quiet right now, and some of the young men are restless. I drew them maps and told them to come to Brassenthwaite or Merrenstow if they wanted to join an army.”
Kiernan nodded. “And do you think they will?”
She stretched her legs before her. Will glanced at her trousers then back at her face, grinning; Kiernan completely ignored her attire. “I think a few will. Maybe not in great numbers. But the Lirrens were always a long shot. If we get a hundred of them in our ranks, we’ll be lucky.”
“And can they fight?”
She shrugged. “As with any group of soldiers. Some are good, some are not. But they like to fight—that makes them valuable, to a degree.”
“I’d like to meet one of these Lirren men,” Will said. “They sound very intense.”
“That’s the right word,” she agreed.
“So who came with you, besides Sabina Gisseltess?” Will wanted to know. “Tayse?”
“Of course. Also a mystic named Cammon. A young man who’s about twenty years old.”
“What’s his family?” Kiernan asked.
“Mongrel. No noble blood at all. But he’s astonishingly powerful.”
Last summer, Senneth had noted that while Nate still sneered at the concept of magic, Kiernan was beginning to accept it, to consider it as something that could be turned into a weapon. Tayse’s philosophy exactly. It depressed her to think her older brother and her lover might have some attitudes in common. “What can he do?” Kiernan asked now.
She gave him a wicked grin. “Read your mind. Not the words in your head so much as the emotions and inclinations in your heart. He can tell if you’re lying, most of the time. And he can sense when his friends are in pain or in trouble— sometimes from many miles away.”
“A useful skill, but limited,” Kiernan said.
“What? Aren’t you worried about him reading your thoughts?” Will demanded. “I am! It’s unnerving.”
Kiernan was unmoved. “I rarely bother to conceal what I’m thinking, so it scarcely matters.”
Which was so true that Senneth gave a snort of laughter. “Nate won’t like him, at first, but Cammon will win him over.
Everyone loves Cammon eventually. Well, you won’t. But you don’t love anyone.”
Kiernan looked faintly amused at the barb. “If he is as powerful as you say, I will respect him. I would expect that to be good enough.”
“From you, certainly.”
Kiernan shifted in his chair and changed the subject. “How long do you stay in Brassenthwaite?”
“I don’t know. Until Sabina is settled, I suppose.”
“And where do you go after that?”
“Back to Ghosenhall. I have a report to make to the king.”
“I wonder if you might be induced to visit your friend Kirra instead.”
“Here we go,” Will said, and rolled his eyes and laughed.
Senneth was mystified. “What? Why? Is she in Danalustrous?”
“I believe so,” Kiernan answered. “I have been exchanging letters with her father.”
“How ironic that we were just discussing political marriages,” Will said. “Since that’s what’s on the table now.”
Senneth glanced between her brothers. “Will and Kirra?” she said, and shook her head. “Kirra will never agree to it.”
“Will and the heir to Danalustrous,” Kiernan corrected.
Now Senneth felt her eyebrows rise. “Will and Casserah,” she said, and turned the idea over in her mind a few times.
“Malcolm is willing, and he seems to believe he can persuade his daughter to do his bidding.”
Senneth laughed. “Well, he can’t. No one can tell Casserah what to do. On the other hand, she’s a very plainspoken girl. If she didn’t want to marry Will, she’d have said so by now.” She looked at her younger brother. “What do you think of this scheme?”
He shrugged. “I’m twenty-eight and haven’t made a love match yet.” He grinned. “Though I’ve had a chance to explore some possibilities and would not feel too cheated if I had to give up the bachelor life.”
She flung up a hand. “Spare me the details.”
He sobered. “And I’m willing to marry for the sake of an alliance. I’m not going to inherit here, and there are days I feel—” He shrugged. “Not entirely valuable.”
“Your brothers and I value you highly,” Kiernan said, but Will ignored him and continued speaking directly to Senneth.
“So I would do it and feel it to be—an honor, I suppose. Something important I could do for my family.”
“You’d have to leave Brassenthwaite,” she warned. “Casserah didn’t like to step outside of Danalustrous before she was named heir. You could visit, of course, and travel wherever you wanted but—she would expect your life to be at Danan Hall.”
Will shrugged again. “That wouldn’t bother me. But I want to know—what’s she like? Would she even be interested in marrying a man like me? I’ve never met her.”
Senneth made an equivocal motion with her head. “What’s Casserah like. . .? Very focused. Very serene. I have seen her laugh quite e
“It comes from knowing what’s important and what isn’t,” Kiernan said.
Senneth ignored him and turned toward Will, suddenly animated. “I think she would like you, Will. And I think, more important, that you would understand her. That you could make a decent match with her. And think how powerful the alliance between Danalustrous and Brassenthwaite would be then! The more I consider this, the better I like the idea.”
“You’re very political all of a sudden for someone who refused an arranged marriage on her own behalf,” Will pointed out.
She laughed shortly. “I suppose I am. These days, everything I do—every thought I have—revolves around preventing war. And if I can’t prevent it, I want to win it. What bargains can I strike, what allies can I find, what weaknesses can I bolster up? And if that means finding a way to control every House in Gillengaria, than I am all in favor of it. Yes, I would love to see you married to Casserah Danalustrous! I would love to see Nate sitting next to the marlady in Gisseltess. I would love to see Brassenthwaite tie up the four corners of Gillengaria.”
“There is still Fortunalt,” Kiernan reminded her. He did not seem at all discomposed at the thought of amassing power. Had probably been thinking along the same lines himself these past ten years.
She looked over at him. “Rayson’s daughter is fourteen, isn’t she? Not a bad match for your oldest son.”
“Rayson Fortunalt will never make an alliance with Brassenthwaite,” Kiernan said. “Unless he, too, has died off in this war you’re so eager to prevent.”
She gave a twisted smile. “You’re right. Then let’s marry your son to Ariane Rappengrass’s oldest granddaughter. Kirra met the girl last summer and liked her a great deal.”
Kiernan nodded. “I’ll write Ariane in the morning.”
Will tugged on her arm to get her attention. “So will you come? To Danalustrous? Kiernan wants me to go in the next week or two to meet Casserah. It would be easier if you were along to smooth the way.”
“I think I will,” Senneth said. “I would like to see Malcolm’s face when Brassenthwaite comes calling.”
CHAPTER 23
MARRIAGE turned out to be the topic on everyone’s mind that night, though Senneth had hardly expected that to be the case. Dinner was an intimate family-style meal, held in the cozier but still rather imposing smaller dining hall. Her three brothers were there, of course, as well as Kiernan’s wife, two sons, and daughter. Senneth had informed Kiernan that she expected Tayse and Cammon to have places at the table, and he had nodded curtly, so they were present as well. Cammon had scrubbed his face and worn his best clothing but still looked like a vagabond charitably rescued from the street. Tayse wore Rider regalia and kept his expression severe, though Senneth privately thought he was enjoying himself immensely. The children, who had met him once before, still had not lost their awe and watched him unwaveringly throughout the entire meal.
Sabina sat between Will and Nate and barely said a word, though she smiled the whole time as if at a particularly enjoyable party. She’d had scarcely a rag of decent clothing to change into, so Kiernan’s wife, Chelley—five inches taller and forty pounds heavier than Sabina—had scrounged up some hideously ill-fitting, outdated, but expensive castoff gown for Sabina to wear to the dinner table. Senneth thought it might even be something that had belonged to her when she was seventeen, which meant it was way too long on Sabina but just about the right size through the bust and shoulders. Still, Sabina was not complaining. She looked happy merely to be alive, safe—and sitting next to Nate. Every once in a while she would glance at him, blush, and glance away.
For his part, Nate could not have been more considerate toward the runaway marlady, offering her more food, asking frequently if she was too hot, too cold, too tired to be sitting at the table. Had she tried this dish? It was a delicacy rarely found outside of Brassenthwaite—he was sure she would like it. More wine? From Brassenthwaite vineyards. It had a delicate flavor she would certainly appreciate.
Senneth glanced from Nate to Kiernan and lifted her eyebrow just a fraction. His lips turned up in the slightest smile, and then he looked away.
Oh, there would be a match between Gisseltess and Brassenthwaite yet. If only they could get rid of the inconvenient marlord. . . .
Kiernan addressed Tayse as directly as he might address Reesen. Kiernan was highly aware of class distinctions but firmly believed that every individual had a role to play and deserved the respect of his position. “Have you been to Merrenstow to see what success Romar Brendyn is having at training new troops?”
Tayse looked up and nodded. “They’ve brought in another thousand men, mostly from the northern regions, and split them into divisions. The regent has farmed them out to some of the top vassals of Merrenstow, but he rides between properties every week, checking that the training is going smoothly.”
“Does the king plan to keep them all in Merrenstow?”
“At the moment. The thinking is, if there’s a war, it will come immediately to Ghosenhall. And Merrenstow is close enough to allow a quick deployment.”
“What about the royal guard in Ghosenhall? Have those numbers been increased?”
“To some degree. But there is limited space to house more soldiers in the royal city. Baryn has been looking into renting land on the eastern edge of Storian and making that another training camp.”
“Not a bad idea,” Kiernan said. “That would give Rafe Storian a reason to think twice before siding with any rebels.”
Tayse smiled. Wearing the full black of the Rider livery, relieved only by the parade of golden lions across his sash, he looked wickedly lethal. The smile somehow only enhanced that impression. “That consideration was not lost on the king,” he said.
“Set up a base in Tilt, too, while he’s at it,” Nate suggested. “Gregory Tilton is a sure bet to change sides a half dozen times before this war is over, but he might be more wary if there were guards in his backyard.”
Chelley leaned forward. She was a plain-featured, strong-willed, absolutely imperturbable woman whom Senneth had come to greatly admire during the few times they had been together. But Senneth was impressed with the imprints of grace and ease that Chelley had left on Brassenthwaite. She was impressed with the well-behaved children. She was impressed by the fact that Kiernan actually seemed to listen to her.
“Let’s talk about something other than war,” she said now.
“It’s all anyone is thinking about,” Kiernan said.
She said gently, “Because that’s all anyone is talking about. Let’s discuss something else at least for a few minutes, just to prove to our guests that we can.” She turned smoothly to Cammon. “I understand you’ve been traveling with my sister-in-law. Tell me a little about your own family.”
Cammon never minded being the focus of attention and was never intimidated by anybody else’s rank and title. He shook back his shaggy hair and smiled at her. “My parents were wanderers,” he said. “I spent a lot of time in Arberharst and Sovenfeld. Have you ever been to either of them?”
No one at the table had. “I hear they’ve got good soldiers in Arberharst,” Kiernan said.
“Kiernan,” Chelley reprimanded.