Book 2, Chapter 26: Riding And Realization
They re-dressed me rather quickly and soon us ladies and girls were riding on a field passed the gardens we’d visited earlier. It was a pretty hillside, covered in exactly what Brin had explained: marigolds and lilies.
“This is the largest marigold flower garden in the kingdom,” Brin’s mother explained as we put out picnic baskets for dinner.
“What do you do with them? I mean, besides the obvious.”
“The seeds are given to farmers. Marigolds, you see, scare caterpillars away.”
“No kidding! And the lilies?”
“For their beauty. It’s enough to enjoy them.”
“Grass and flowers. This is a very pretty location. I’ve never, ever, in my life seen so many flowers.” It was true. Staring across the endless horizon, mountains far off in the distance, the little town below, smoke rising out of buildings, I’d never seen such things. The last horizon I saw was sky atop endless concrete and steel skyscrapers, the evening sun glinting on a million mirrored windows.
“Indeed. Tell me, Princess Cayce,” she reached across to take my hand, “did you consider our conversation from the bath?"
"If it’s alright with you, Countess Carlisele, I really and truly do not wish to discuss marriage, men or boys. That was a condition of my joining you ladies this afternoon.” I glared at Brin.
“It was, mother, but I didn’t listen and brought Cayce anyways, so we could scheme.”
I sighed, deflating. “Your uncle and I, Brin, Lady Carlisele, we talked about it this morning. He said he’s considering it, but he’s not sure, what with all the problems I bring, whether he’ll marry me.”
“Him not marrying you is akin to a death sentence.”
“Mother!” Brin raised her voice, “Not a good idea to discuss death and marriage together.”
“Nevertheless, the princess needs to hear it.”
“My death? You’re seriously telling me that if I don’t get married, I’m going to die?” Why, oh why, couldn’t have I been reborn as a farmer or an innkeeper? Yeah, I thought to myself, I could have invented distillation and good whiskey! But no, they had to force me into dresses, whoever ‘they’ were.
“Consider what happens if it’s just you, on your own, with your earl-sized army. You’d hole up somewhere, no doubt, but the Barclays would come or the Laemacians, the Ketzles, and you’d be done for.”
“Mother, please. Now is not the time. Here, Cayce, I brought ale for you.” She dug into a basket, pulling out a clay bottle stopped by a cork, then went searching for a mug.
“No, it’s fine. Reality is catching up to me, it seems. Alright, I will accept suitors.” I struggled to smile and may have actually pulled it off, “But let me ask you this, the reverse. What does Duke Bechalle have to gain from marrying me? I can’t really see any benefit except perhaps titles. The enemies aren’t magically going away just because we’re married.”
“My brother yet has his bannerman pledged to him. With your army and his, that’s some eighty thousand men. More than enough to subdue Barclay and take back Yohstone and Dernamouth.”
I just realized something. Of all the lands in my kingdom, the earldoms, duchies, and so on, I had the vast majority of the mages. Only Bechalle came close, and he only had two thirds mine. I accepted the ale from Brin and sat back, staring at the countess. “It appears to me, Lady Carlisele, that I have the magical advantage. It’s therefore likely that my small army could overcome enough bannermen to . . . persuade them to lend me their soldiers.”
Her face broke into a sinister smile. “Now you are speaking like a princess. Remember this the next time you treat with my brother and, from woman to woman, do not let him bully you into a lesser position.”
The grass had blue and green hues, the marigolds yellow, deep orange and red, and they shook in the sudden, quick breezes that traveled around the hill. Swaying, ever swaying, their wares open to the sun, offerings to bees, begging ‘Here I am, here I am!’ Bees! Truly a marvel to see such things.
Like a moron, I’d been doing the same begging. I’d neglected, with the exception of the sarissa, which I’d stupidly given away earlier today, what I brought to the table. All these people, all these gatherings, they’d reinforced neediness in me. The little girl needs a strong husband, for protection. Over and over, they had told me this and over and over, I’d listened carefully.
The reverse was true. The things I brought to the table were beyond what these people could imagine. Crossbows, ballistae, stirrups and cavalry lances, distillation, knowledge of soap and vaccination. Sewage, flush toilets. Yet I had limits. I likely couldn’t make antibiotics except perhaps for tetracycline and that would take a tremendous amount of trial and error. But it was doable, even without acetone and other solvents, unlike penicillin. I didn’t want to try gunpowder, for fear of killing myself.
But the point was, I had to stop listening to them telling me I was a girl. I was dangerous. I had an army, more mages than anyone and armor that nullified magic. Given time, I’d have the most advanced military this world had seen. Time to remind them where the power lay.
“Lady Carlisele, I think instead of marrying the duke. I think I might take a consort instead. After all, there’s no reason to give my power away.”
Brin’s face was nearly white and her mother’s lost any humor it had. “Be careful. Tread lightly with the duke in such bargains.”
“We shall see.” I drank a bit of the ale, set it down, then stood up to go for a walk. It seemed, and I should have expected this, and planned for it, that the good countess was in fact working for the duke. Couldn’t really blame her. She probably figured that if we get married, then Bechalle would move to the capital, and she’d become a duchess. Well, I was done giving too much heed to these people. The only detail that worried me was Brin. She seemed on my side, excited for marriage in a childlike fashion, and against her mother, but who knew what the truth was. Brin was, after all, well-educated and very clever.
I stopped in my tracks as the thought struck me. I would have to promote Tread. Or ‘exalt’ him, as Morry had called it. Making Tread an earl would make him marriageable for Brin. And what a fine distraction he would make.
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