Page 62

N iam sat on the barely used throne, wearing a seldom-worn crown, staring out over a crowd much larger than he’d hoped.

There’d been no time to see Rufe since the battle two days ago, as Niam had spent much of his time with trusted advisors, spies, the magistrate, and his mother, going over lists of those accused of being part of Whreyn’s plans.

Only the truly guilty stood before him today.

Craician soldiers kneeled next to Delletinian nobles on the hard stone floor under the watchful eye of Niam’s loyal forces.

Several of the nobles he’d considered friends.

They didn’t look at him. Off to the left kneeled Delletinian soldiers who’d willingly betrayed their oaths to protect the king and kingdom.

The magistrate stood by the throne, calling out a list of names.

If any accused showed one ounce of remorse and repented of their crimes, Niam could justify mercy, but along the walls, others watched.

It was as though he must establish his kingdom all over again.

What he called mercy, others might perceive as weakness.

He could show no weakness for the sake of his family and kingdom.

The magistrate finished the list, far more names than Niam ever imagined, and tucked the scroll away into a pocket.

It pained him to hear Eoghan, his former advisor’s name.

The corruption had run deep. Niam cleared his throat and said, “You stand accused of colluding with Lord Whreyn to overthrow your rightful king. Some of you have given private confessions. Others will stand trial, where you may present your evidence of innocence. Those who are head of your household forfeit your family’s lands if found guilty. ”

Gasps went up from the crowd.

“I knew it!” one man jumped up, shouting from among the accused. “You’re going to let those Cormiran bastards take from us.”

A guard placed a heavy hand on the man’s shoulder, pushing him back to his knees.

Niam didn’t want to deprive this man’s family, any family, of their home.

He’d order more investigations, and wouldn't take from them if the families were innocent and properly cared for their lands and tenants.

He dared not say so now. Lots of work awaited in the future.

“No one is taking anything.” Niam kept his voice calm. “The penalty for treason hasn’t changed since my great-great-grandfather’s time. I believe it’s how your family obtained its titles and estates in the beginning.” He nodded toward the magistrate. “Please continue.”

The magistrate read more charges, from thievery to spying to murder. Many had a hand in the missing and dead soldiers. Niam’s conscience cleared. These nobles, if proven guilty, had earned their fates. What would they have done to his innocent sons ?

When the magistrate ended his speech, Niam stood. “I know you weren’t the ones to form the original plan. Your leader will now join you.”

The doors opened, and four guards entered, a bedraggled Whreyn between them, bringing him before the throne and forcing him to kneel with hands behind his head.

Whreyn glared at Niam. “This isn’t over.”

“It is for you and all your guilty cohorts in this room. Others are being arrested. By spring, your attempted coup will be but a memory, your name spoken in hushed whispers.”

“My family is powerful! They’ll—”

Niam threw up a hand to stop the tirade. “Your family members are now commoners, with no lands or titles, for we found them complicit in your schemes. You know the penalty for treason. Forfeiture of lands, titles, and your life.”

“Why you…” in a blur nearly too fast to follow, Whreyn launched himself off the floor, grabbed a soldier’s sword, and lunged for Niam.

And equally quickly, Niam grabbed the dagger from his side sheath, flinging it on instinct alone. The blade struck Whreyn’s shoulder. He toppled backward, dropping the sword and falling into the arms of the guards.

He couldn’t be nearly as surprised as Niam. Had he actually struck true? Granted, he’d thrown on instinct, making a lucky strike. The blood pounded in Niam’s ears. He wasn’t a warrior. He would never be a warrior, but he could defend himself .

Thanks to Lady Exa’s advice and Mother’s teachings. The guards hauled a screeching Whreyn from the room.

A few of the condemned nobles sobbed openly. Pity formed in Niam’s heart. He pushed away any sympathy. These traitors would have killed him and his family for greed.

He approached the kneeling mass of humanity, calmly walking through their ranks, studying each face on his way to the door.

They all looked at him now. He’d surprise them if they thought him too weak to do what he must. With all the authority taught by his father, Niam declared, “Those found guilty of backing Whreyn have sealed your fate. However, I refuse to make a public spectacle of justice. The last thing we need is such a display. We have defeated the Craicians. Their king will not show you kindness for your failure if you escape.”

A few of the nobles winced. They’d all heard tales of brutal Craicians. Niam opened the door, nodded to Casseign, and stood back. Casseign entered with a squad of soldiers hailing from three kingdoms, while the late arriving Cormirans filled the barracks. Some present sported noticeable injuries.

Mother said Rufe sustained only minor injuries. Duty could be inconvenient when all Niam wanted to do was find his consort and see to Rufe’s wellbeing in person.

“Captain Casseign.” Niam raised his voice to be heard over the sobbing, pleading, and cursing. “I charge you to ensure justice for those who confessed and to detain the others until their trial. Be discreet, but ensure the proper witnesses to prevent something like this from ever happening again. ”

Casseign crossed an arm over his chest. “It shall be done, Your Majesty.”

Niam left the great hall, head held high, hiding all the turmoil in his soul.

Niam stormed into his mother’s sitting room. “Mother! Have you heard anymore of—”

Rufe sat in a chair with a cup of tea in one hand. Mother held his other hand from the next chair—a hand with a heavily bandaged wrist.

“Rufe! You’re hurt!”

Rufe gave Niam a tired smile. He placed his teacup on a side table and extended his uninjured hand to Niam. “It’s a scratch! I mean… It’s nothing. You should see the man who nicked me, assuming he’s stopped falling yet. I’m told that sinkhole was pretty deep.”

Niam darted across the room, yanking Rufe from the chair and into a hug. Rufe grunted but didn’t sound pained, so Niam didn’t let go. “Never scare me so again.”

“I can’t promise. But I can promise to be careful,” Rufe mumbled into Niam’s hair.

Niam pulled back, tears stinging his eyes. “I saw Casseign, but how are Draylon and Vihaan? ”

“Lazing in the hot springs, last I saw, after we rounded up the last of the suspected traitors. You might never get Vihaan out of there. Though the springs were wonderful, I needed to get back to you.” Rufe sank back into his chair, moving slowly. Shadows underlined his eyes.

Niam pulled a chair closer and sat, still clinging to Rufe’s hand. “I received a formal report, but tell me what happened in your own words.” Rufe. Here. Now. The weight of the past few days lifted from Niam’s shoulders.

“You were right in telling me foreign soldiers are at a disadvantage in the mountains. I think Delletina herself claimed more enemies than our entire fighting force.”

“There’s something else,” Mother interjected with a smug smile for Niam. “Rufe has always been ashamed of the mark he wore upon his skin, that many would see as dishonor. He now bears another mark, one to negate the first.”

“What?” Niam jumped from his chair. “How? Explain!”

Rufe chuckled darkly. “Have you been to the temple of the Unnamed Goddess?”

“Not since we stayed there.”

Mother rose, wrapping Niam in a quick hug.

“The goddess’s statue cracked many seasons ago, before you were born.

The crack goes across her right wrist. Rufe’s injury wasn’t life-threatening but will likely result in a scar quite similar to the statue’s mark.

” She chuckled. “Already rumors have spread about your consort being blessed by the goddess herself. I don’t think any will oppose your union. ”

Niam ran his gaze over Rufe’s body, looking for any further sign of injury. “But you’re all right?”

“Just tired. I need food, sleep, and you. And not necessarily in that order.” Rufe sucked in a breath, face shading to crimson. “I’m sorry, Nera, I…”

Mother laughed. “I’d fault you if you didn’t want my son. Now go. I think you both need reassurance right now that an old woman cannot provide.”

Niam helped Rufe from his chair. They left his mother’s room on their way to Niam’s. No, not Niam’s.

Theirs.

Rufe lay twisted in the sheets, nestled on his side, dark lashes fluttering with his dreams. The snow had stopped around midnight, and now a full moon shone through the windows.

Niam should close the shutters, but he added a log to the fire instead.

Just a few more minutes to admire this beautiful man—his beautiful man, who’d lived a lifetime thinking of himself as less than.

Rufe Ferund was more than Niam ever dreamed, someone whose strength added to his own.

How had Niam survived before that wounded soldier entered his life?

Was it only a short time ago? Early fall.

Now, late winter had settled in. Soon, the holy days would arrive, bringing festivities.

He’d go with Rufe to lay a holly wreath at the Unnamed Goddess’s feet .

Rufe shifted, the sheets sliding down, showing more of his scarred skin. No number of scars took away from his beauty.

One dark eye popped open. Rufe yawned. “Please tell me it’s not morning already.”

“It’s not.” Niam closed the shutters over the window, keeping out what cold he could. “I simply couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to keep you awake. Seems like I did anyway.”

“Bed’s cold without you. I’m too tired to make more heat right now, but if you give me a few hours….”

Niam chuckled. “We have all the time in the world.” He crossed the floor, climbed into bed, and pulled Rufe’s head into his lap. “How’s your arm?”

“Still just a scratch. Barely. It’s a flesh wound.”

“I stabbed Lord Whreyn.”

Rufe sat up, eyes flashing with rage. “What? Why? Where were your guards?”

“Whreyn got away from them. Who would have believed he’d attempt to attack me in the presence of so many?”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. He never got close. Remember the dagger you gave me?” Niam cocked one eyebrow in question.

“Yes.”

“It served me well. Exa suggested I practice. I did, every chance I got.”

“Thank every god and goddess ever worshipped. So Whreyn is dead?”

Niam shook his head. “Merely injured. I intend for him to forfeit his life with his followers.” Niam certainly wouldn’t mourn the treacherous man’s passing.

“And his followers?”

There were so many more interesting topics of conversation, but Niam must remember he had a consort to keep apprised of the goings-on of the kingdom now.

“Captain Casseign is overseeing their judgment. We’ll investigate their families, and the innocent will keep their lands, the guilty will not.

I’m afraid I could not find my young cousin Bert, and no one seems inclined to tell me his whereabouts. I fear he’s met with a tragic end.”

“I’m sorry for all the betrayal and for your cousin.”

Niam’s heart ached. Should he have put Bert under guard so he couldn’t leave? Would the boy be safe now if he had? Time enough to wallow in guilt later. “I wish I’d done more for the boy.”

“He was no boy, but a young man, free to make his own choices.”

“They still hurt.”

“That you care makes you a good person.”

Regardless of the outcome, Bert remained lost. Something Niam needed to ask plagued his mind. “What will you do?” His heart sped as he waited for his answer. Rufe's vindication removed his status as a bastard soldier. He could return to his childhood home as a celebrated heir and king consort.

One side of Rufe’s mouth lifted in a half-smile. “Tired of me already? ”

“No. I simply don’t want to keep you here if you wish to return home.” Please stay with me.

Rufe threw back his head. Laughter burbled out of him. “Silly man. I am home. With you. And the boys. Once we’re sure it’s safe, we’ve got to send for them.”

“We will. What about the dukedom?”

“What about it? My father’s still a young man with plenty of seasons remaining.

When his time comes, hopefully, I’ll have thought of a plan.

I do have two sons now.” Rufe ran his hand down Niam’s arm and entwined their fingers.

He didn’t meet Niam’s eyes. “I never thought I’d live to be an old man, or have children.

I never thought I’d want to. Now I want all the days I can have to spend with you. ”

Two sons? Rufe claiming Quillan and Uri sent warmth through Niam. And spending days together? Niam couldn’t fight a smile or help preening a little. “Who am I to refuse one blessed by a goddess?”

“You know the mark on my arm is like what many soldiers have, don’t you? If a blade falls right….”

“How many of those soldiers are secret followers of the Unnamed Goddess?” Niam wasn’t sure yet what he believed, but the cut on Rufe’s wrist would help endear him to the people.

Plus, he’d been wounded fighting for the kingdom.

Niam expected a sudden resurgence in the Unnamed Goddess’s popularity, or the Nameless Goddess, as most Delletinians knew her.

“I don’t know. I’ve never asked. Most soldiers pray to the God of War, or a deity unique to their own culture. ”

Niam recalled a memory from his childhood. “My grandfather was a believer. He sometimes wore a silver pendant with the goddess’s likeness. I’ll have one made for you if you like.”

“All I want is you.” Rufe pulled Niam toward him, gently running his tongue over the seam of Niam’s lips until Niam opened for him.

Before they went further, Niam had something to say. He reluctantly ended the kiss. “You know I don’t care about any title, don’t you? I've been drawn to you since Captain Casseign brought a wounded soldier to the keep. The moment I laid eyes on you…”

Rufe gave a lazy smile. “You fell completely in love with me?”

Niam gave an inelegant snort. “No. I knew I’d never met a more dangerous creature in my life. I saw you then as a warrior, a Cormiran, possibly an enemy.”

“You don’t think I’m dangerous anymore?” Rufe mock pouted.

Niam ran a finger through Rufe’s dark curls. “You’re more dangerous than ever, for now, you don’t need a weapon to hurt me.” He whispered, “You can cut my soul out with a mere word.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“But you could.”

“I’d sooner cut my own heart out.” Rufe resumed the kiss. This time, Niam didn’t stop him.