Book 3, Chapter 27: A Bath and a Hand Holding
After sword training with Morry, feeling wonderfully pushed hard, with sweat still dripping off me, I headed to the baths to meet Brin. Have a soak, get all clean, dress up, supper.
“So,” Brin said as I met her just outside the hot springs, “which one are you going to marry? The Barclay boy or the Laemacian usurper?”
“Ugh. What if I ask them to fight it out? Winner gets me as a prize.”
“An excellent idea, oh mighty princess. Your army can then finish off the victor.”
“You know, that’s not a bad idea. They’d probably see through it though, hey.” The gambeson was sticking to my skin, I had sweat so much, making getting it off me a struggle of yanking and pulling and moving about.
“Yeah. Here, let me help.” Brin pulled at the sleeves, freeing my arms.
It was suddenly off my body, taking the shift with it, leaving me feeling, well, naked. And a touch shy. “Uh, thank you.”
“It’s my job.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I’m going to help you with your clothes now!” I wheeled her around by her shoulders, then pulled the dress off over her head.
“Practicing for your future husband?”
“You be quiet.”
“What did you and the Laemacian Ambassador discuss?”
I passed her the dress, then hung the gambeson on a rack, the slip beside it, “He showed me his, and I showed him mine.”
“Cayce!”
“We toured his war rhinos and then I showed him the sarissa training. The war rhinos are huge. I can’t imagine what a charge of them would look like.” It was still strange to me that we didn’t have underwear and bras, but I was getting used to it. We tossed the rest of the clothing on a bench for the servants to take away.
“Probably awful. You’d want to get out of the way.”
“Yeah. We’re going to have to come up with better ideas. Maybe, a mixed sarissa and heavy crossbow unit or perhaps crossbow cavalry. Like, instead of light cavalry with bows, we’ll arm them with crossbows.” Brin held the door open for me and we entered, clothes free.
“But those don’t even work yet.” We sat, soaped the seats, took buckets of water from the hot spring and dumped it over our heads. Almost too hot at first, but refreshing, especially after soaping down. In some ways, better than a shower. Though it was hard not to miss showers. For one thing, you could control the temperature.
“When they do, they’ll pierce the toughest armor. At short range, anyways.”
“I hope you’re right. You think they’ll be ready for the spring campaign?”
“I’m optimistic.”
“I can’t wait to see them in action. Here, turn around, let me soap your back.”
I did as she asked, her rough lathering almost like a massage and welcome at that. “Brin, who do you think I should give the duchy to?”
“That’s difficult. If you asked me who was going to take it, I’d say Hafthon.”
“He’s just going to take it? Even if I grant it to someone else?”
“Cayce, I love you, but you are so naïve. Once you leave, Hafthon is going to take charge. It doesn’t matter who you appoint to run the duchy, Hafthon is taking it.” Brin dumped a bucket of water over my head.
“Brin!”
“I should have warned you first.”
“Your turn.” She turned around and I soaped her back. “Ok, I’m the princess. Hafthon won’t respect the people I appoint?”
“Like I said, so very naïve.” She shook her head, “No, he’s not going to respect who you appoint.”
“What if I make you the duchess?” I dumped a bucket of water over her head.
Brin rubbed her eyes, shook her head, “Me? A lady duchess?”
“Yes! You have a good head on your shoulders, Brin. And I trust you. You could run the place.”
She put her hands on my shoulders, “No, oh my gods, no, it doesn’t work like that. If you did that, I’d have to marry Hafthon! Except that he has a wife. So, his son, but he’s too young yet.”
We climbed into the hot bath, settled slowly up to our necks. “Surely if you’re in charge you can choose who to marry?”
“You’re going from naïve to dumb here, Cayce. Listen, Hafthon has the strongest earldom and is the ablest earl. People follow his lead. Hell, Crygmore’s so far up his ass, he knows what Hafthon had for dinner. Haven’t you noticed? You’re not a queen, Cayce, because Archbishop Ghevont supports Hafthon. You think it was my father who blocked your coronation because you’re only looking at the curtains. You haven’t seen through the window yet.”
I didn’t know what to say and just stared at her. “Why . . . why didn’t you tell me this information sooner?”
“Why didn’t you already know it!” She closed her eyes and her face dropped, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“You should have spent, should spend, more time with my mother.”
“Back up a sec. If I appoint anyone but Hafthon duke, we’re going to have a civil war on our hands? Is that what you’re saying?” That would be bad and all that – difficult to deal with, considering I’d be away on a war campaign. “What about if I take his children as hostages?”
“To do that, you’d probably have to march on his earldom. I don’t think he’d willingly give you his seven-year-old son. It might be easier if you just appoint Hafthon.”
“Yeah, and it’d be easier just to get married.”
“Well, Cayce, you do have suitors to consider.”
“You really have been trying to marry me off this whole time. The bit about making allegiances and getting oaths, that was always secondary to you, wasn’t it?”
“No, yes, maybe a little, but not really. Hey,” she took my hands in hers, “I want you to marry who you want to marry, but you aren’t listening. We all tell you, everyone tells you. But you want to hold onto power as a queen and-”
“It really is just my army keeping me in power?”
“Well, it’s more than that. Your bravery on the battlefield, your inventions, your soldiers admire you.”
“That’s basically a ‘yes’ answer, Brin.”
“Yes, Cayce, it’s your army keeping you in power.”
“Huh. So, my choices are to create an unstoppable army or marry someone powerful?”
“Only if you want to hold onto power.”
“I don’t know Brin, I . . . it’s just that, ok, this is stupid, but I thought that, as princess, the normal rules didn’t apply to me.”
She laughed and shook her head, “Cayce, the normal rules don’t apply to you because you have an army. And they’re following you. Not a man. You. So, no, you don’t have to accept anything. Unless, of course, unless you lose that army.”
“I would lose it through marriage.”
“You’re starting to catch on.”
“I should seriously just take off this iron jewelry and blast all my enemies.”
“Cayce . . .”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You need help. Etienne’s not like Grand Magister Tye. He’s nice and on your side. Ask him for help.”
“I’ll think about it. Ok?”
“Talk to him.”
“Brin.”
“What?”
“I’m glad you’re on my side. But I’m going to dunk you in the water all the same.”
“Cayce!”
***
When Brin fell asleep that night, arms around me, her personal wellness pillow, I lay staring at the ceiling as usual. But not really thinking. Examining the wooden ceiling, wondering why castles had wooden ceilings, that sort of thing. Let my unconscious mind work out the problems I faced. Power struggles in my own kingdom. If I wasn’t careful, this duchy would become as rebellious as the Barclay Duchy.
I untangled myself from Brin’s clutches, put a pillow in her arms as she stirred awake. Since she slept deeply, this was always easy to do. As baffling as it was, I’d gotten used to sleeping all cuddled up with a teenage girl. On that thought, henceforth one of the qualifications I should insist upon in suitors is that they sleep deeply and long. Gives me more time to myself.
The room was stuffy, so I checked the fireplace, made sure it was open. Yup. Then headed over to the window, to crack it open for a bit. Lightly snowing, the air was cool.
Down on the cobblestones below, against all reason, there were a bunch of foxes. I pushed the window open all the way. Pointy ears, black and orange fur, dark at night, I could see their eyes. Hairs raised on the back of my neck as they looked up at me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away or run screaming, though I wanted to run screaming. What the hell were these animals doing and why did they know where I was?
They trotted over the snow, forming a line in front of my viewpoint. And together they bowed, one of them scraping the snow with its left paw. They stared at me. I stared at them. A snowflake fluttered past my vision. Then they darted off here and there and the courtyard was empty, little white and grey flakes falling onto little tracks crisscrossing the white ground.
I stood there, watching the ground below and the snow gently fall until my body shivered from the cold, then reached out and pulled the window closed.
Foxes, ravens, all acting strangely. If they had marched off in a line, it would have confirmed for me that I was in a Disney game. I just needed little birds to fly in, help me with the laundry. Music playing. And that’d be that. Get out, call the lawyers, sue like crazy.
I’d only seen foxes before in videos. In none of those did they bow. Or line up with their friends. Diving nose first into snow to eat mice, sneaking meat off carcasses killed by wolves, scent marking, that sort of thing. But what did I know? Maybe the videographers didn’t show that part because it’d make foxes seem too clever.
I wandered over to the bed, sat down, wondered. Bechalle cuts me, I get magic. Ravens, then foxes, seem to be paying me visits and homage. Some part, some piece of the puzzle, was missing.
Missing and probably unsolvable until it hit me in the face.
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