Maiden by Decree
Chapter One
 By Maggie Finson
 
A Really Bad Mistake

or, Is this Knight nearsighted or what?

 

Derek reached the tournament grounds and followed his sister, Ilene, into a tier of rough wooden benches with a heartfelt sigh of relief. At fifteen years of age, the young man was still willowy with few visible signs that he was ever going to mature into a well muscled fellow suitable for the kind of apprenticeships he desired.

Worse, in his own opinion, was that Ilene, two years younger than he was, stood eye to eye with him already. Resigned to never being tall, like Hurst, the Smith, or Sir Everard, a knight the boy idolized, he had at least hoped that his slim frame would fill out with enough masculine muscle to look like more than an overgrown boy. He really wanted to become a squire to some knight and take part in great adventures or helping defend those weaker folk who knights were supposed to take care of.

Those hopes had been dashed when he stood with the other lads his age for the annual choosing by the knights for their squire trainees, followed by tradesmen picking likely youths to apprentice. None of them even looked twice at a scrawny, too pretty boy with a tousled shock of midnight black hair who was almost jumping into their paths in an attempt to gain attention.

Harald, the King’s own wizard and physician had actually considered Derek for a few moments, giving him a critical examination that had raised a spark of hope in the youth’s heart, only to have it doused when the old wizard had shaken his head, muttering, “No talent for the arts at all, none at all.” and moved on seeking someone more suited to his needs.

“Are you still mooning over who you got apprenticed to, big brother?” Ilene questioned with a small sigh of exasperation. “Honestly! Being chosen by Katrina should have overjoyed you. With your nimble fingers you’ll make a wonderful tailor.”

“But Katrina is a dressmaker, not a tailor,” Derek started the by now stale argument knowing that it would get him nowhere at all. “What self respecting male would accept a position with a dressmaker?”

“Mother says,” Ilene archly replied while smoothing her light blue linen skirts before seating herself on the bench, “That sewing is sewing, and it’s something you’re good at. Learning the trade from a dressmaker will teach you fine stitches that could be put to good use once you reach journeyman status and can become a tailor on your own.”

“Sure,” Derek grimaced as he plopped down beside his sister. “But until then, I’ll spend my time hemming gowns, sewing on lace and beads, and worse things.”

He didn’t even mention the humiliating experience of the day before in the back room of Katrina’s shop. She had needed someone to wear one of the gowns she was making for a Lady attending the grand ball once the tournament was finished so the hem could be properly set and sewn. Since he had been the only other person working in the shop... After a perfumed bath so he wouldn’t soil the horrid thing, he found himself uncomfortably standing on a small pedestal in what was probably a very lovely violet satin gown while his new employer fussed with the hem and sleeve length.

But the ultimate humiliation of the experience was discovering that except for loose material in bodice and hips, it had fit him very well. A fact that had Katrina making up a bodice and derriere padded out to give her model the appropriate curves for the gown. Then made him put those on under the feminine finery to insure a correct fit for their wealthy, and petite, client, Lady Jessica.

“Oh quit grousing, Derek,” Ilene scolded, losing patience with her brother for seeming so ungrateful to Katrina when no one else, not even that smelly old wizard, wanted to give him a chance. “At least you’ll have a trade. All I can look forward to is being married off to some hulking farm boy or some leering tradesman if I’m lucky.”

“All right, Ilene,” suitably chastened, and feeling bad about it, and what his sister had just said, Derek turned his attention to the field spread out below them. “I’m sorry, I am lucky to have been chosen to learn a trade instead of looking at a lifetime of raking and shoveling horse or cow manure.”

“That’s right,” his sister grinned as she patted his slender shoulder with a bright smile. “Now let’s enjoy the tournament. It was very kind of Katrina to release you from your duties to come with me.”

“Yes it was,” he responded with true feeling. Granted, he still smelled of that perfumed bath, and his chest, hips, and bottom still retained the impressions of the ’enhancement’ girdle Katrina had made for him. But at least he was out in the open air that was redolent of food vendors, cheap beer and more costly ale, and the inevitable waft of horse droppings instead of being cooped up in the sweetly scented back room of Katrina’s shop wearing some Lady’s gown for yet another fitting.

There was one other little difficulty that he was far too ashamed to relate to even his little sister. By the name of Sir Garret of Chalmnessa. During the choosing, Garret had shown an inordinate amount of interest in the more underdeveloped boys, especially for Derek. The knight was a strong one, among the King’s favorites and a constant protector of the realm. But Derek had noted something more than simple interest in a prospective squire in the man’s brief attentions.

Just to make matters even stickier, Garret had accompanied the Lady Jessica, his sister, for a fitting of her new gown and caught sight of Derek still in it as Katrina hurriedly performed some minor adjustments before joining her customers out front and closing the door to the back room so he could get out of the gown and set it up for the Lady’s fitting.

The knight had done an almost comical double take when he caught sight of Derek in his humiliation, then the look on his handsome face became very thoughtful. Something the boy was more than happy to have shut off by the closing of the door. But the damage was already done.

“What are you blushing about, Derek?” Ilene teased, thinking it was from the memory of having to wear a woman’s dress, even if it had been out of sight (mostly) and at his Mistress’ orders. Apprentices often got stuck with unpleasant duties, and the pretty young woman couldn’t resist teasing her older brother about it just a little. “Thinking of how you’d look wearing those clothes in the Lords and Ladies section?”

“Only about how embarrassing it would be,” he grumbled quietly, wishing she would change the subject.

“Oh, look!” Ilene gushed, inadvertently giving him his wish. “Fiona is wearing that lovely rose colored gown her mother gave her.”

Fiona was Ilene’s best friend, and the same age as Derek’s sister. Both girls were ripening into the promise of being lovely women, and like the other young ladies that day were dressed in their very best. Not only because it was a grand tournament they were attending. It had been announced by criers more than a week previously that the winners in each field of competition would be allowed to choose a lady to accompany them to the grand ball later in the month. Being chosen for that honor by a knight, or even a high ranking squire could result in marriages far better than many girls in that realm could have hoped for otherwise.

The winner of the final contest - Jousting - would have the privilege of selecting one maiden from the crowd to be either his own bride, or the bride of an unmarried male in his family or entourage. Their wedding was to be the culmination of the month-long festivities in honor of The Goddess Evianel, patroness of marriage and fecund unions.

Needless to say, every girl in the realm who was able, was in attendance for all the competitions. So many hopeful young ladies had arrived that the stands looked more like a colorful flower garden in a riot of mixed shades and colors that were almost bewilderingly painful to the eye.

Derek was just relieved that he hadn’t seen Sir Garret among the milling contestants when they had passed the closed off section of the fields where the squires and other servants had pitched individual tents for the knights participating in the contests. Not that it would have surprised him, but it would have been embarrassing since it had only been the day before that the man had seen him wearing a dress in Katrina’s back room. And obviously liked what he had seen, much to Derek’s discomfiture.

“Yes, Fiona does look very nice today, Ilene,” he answered half absently.

“She looks better than very nice, big brother,” the girl beside him stuck a still childishly sharp elbow into his ribs as a way of chastising him for being a boorish male. “She looks absolutely beautiful. I’ll bet some knight or high ranking squire chooses her.”

“Ouch!” Derek grimaced, then grinned at his sister. “Okay, okay, your friend is gorgeous in that dress. Is that better?”

“A little,” Grinning back in mischief, Ilene added in a whispered aside. “But not, from all I hear, as stunning as a certain person who was in the back room of Katrina’s shop the other day.”

“Don’t say things like that,” Derek hissed, “Not even in a whisper. Please, Ilene? It was bad enough when it was happening. Do you have to remind me about it every chance you get?”

“Oh, I didn‘t realize it bothered you so much,” grinning even wider, she finished with a satisfied giggle. “Since it does, I’ll only mention it every other chance I get. How does that suit you big brother?”

“Guess I’ll have t take what I can get out of you on that,” Derek chuckled at her expression then added. “But it really does bother me. Which is why you insist on teasing me over it, I know, I know.”

“Oh, just get over it, will you, big brother?” The girl patted her own corn silk hair a bit self consciously while watching her brother from the corner of her lovely blue eyes. “I mean, it isn’t as if you actually asked Katrina if you could get into the thing, is it now? Or did you find wearing smooth, sleek silks and satins to be a good feeling?”

“I didn’t, and I didn’t” He retorted indignantly then realized his sister was teasing him again and laughed. “Give it up, minx. I would never do something like that willingly.”

“Never is a long time,” Ilene primly reminded him, then ruined her attempt at grownup sophistication with another giggle she hid behind a dainty hand.

“Not long enough for me,” Was his very earnest reply then Derek decided to change the subject. “If you want some refreshments, I’ll buy. But I’d better get to the vendors now because the single melee sessions are about to get started and I really don‘t want to miss any more of them than I have to. They‘re supposed to be really good ones this year.”

Soon, with an iced sherbet and very watered sweet wine for Ilene and a heavy leathern mug of good ale for himself, Derek seated himself beside his sister, handing her the goodies he’d purchased he settled back to the bench. He couldn’t resist congratulating himself at finding seats in the front row for them.

The first round of the single combats had ended, with the winners readying themselves for the second round and the losers nursing bruised bodies, broken bones, and some cuts. Not that the winners were doing differently. As advertised, these particular contests had already proven to be very exciting and the crowd voiced its collective disappointment at being told the second round would be held after the archery competition.

A tall, gangly, but according to Ilene, cute Yeoman won the archery rounds with some very impressive long range shooting that had the crowd forgetting the single combats for a time as they cheered his expertise with the longbow.

The man’s name was Alaric, and he wore the colors of Sir Garret proudly while casually making his choice from the multitude of waiting, hopeful maidens. Too casually, Derek thought to himself, as the young man indicated his choice to a chorus of cheers and jeers. It was fairly obvious to most that his hesitation had only been a screen while he sought out the girl he had already picked out.

The second round of the single combats passed, followed by equestrian competitions, strength contests, and footraces. The winners of each in the last three events chose their companions for the Grand ball, and the field was cleared to be set up for the first round of jousting.

Abuzz from a second and third (ill advised) ale, Derek watched and cheered with everyone else as the knights taking part in the joust were introduced individually. Sir Garret scanned the stands and found what he was seeking. Or who, rather. The recipient of his wave blushed furiously, and tried sinking through the bench he was sitting on, wishing that a few more ales had passed down his throat.

“Oh, wave back, goof,” Ilene, also a bit worse for the watered wine, urged him. “It isn’t as if he approached you to carry your token or anything. He’s just being nice.”

“I hope so,” Derek groused, while giving a tentative wave back and nearly cringing at the wide flashing grin he received as a result. “Because Garret is one of the favorites in the contests. The King himself drew a promise from him not to enter any competition but the jousts so someone else would have a chance at winning.”

“Oh, that’s just gossip,” Ilene retorted in a slightly slurred voice. “And you worry too much over something that won’t happen even if he does win. Relax and enjoy the rest of the day.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right, little sister,” The youth admitted with a sheepish grin that turned slightly sour for a moment. “Tomorrow, it’s back to being Katrina’s dress dummy.”

After that, he cheered up in the excitement of pounding hooves, the clash of lance on shield and armor and the clang of the defeated knights hitting the ground. The second round was set up immediately after the first, with Sir Garret easily besting his second opponent, as he did in the third. Soon enough, there were two still mounted knights remaining, and Sir Garret was one of those.

A pair of squires, Elgil and Forst faced off in the final round of the single combat and gave the crowd a show worth watching. Elgil, soon to be knighted as part of his prize, though standing, was only marginally better off than Forst who was lying dazed in the trampled ground at the other’s feet. He soon shook the worst of that off, limping forward to stand exactly in front of a bemused Derek and breathless Ilene.

“Lass,” Elgil sketched a formal bow to Ilene. “I have to tell you that your beauty caught my eye earlier and helped me in the winning of this contest. Would you be so kind as to honor me by being my companion for the Grand Ball next week?”

“I would be delighted to, Elgil,” Ilene nearly gushed with the eyes of everyone in the place on her. “Of course I will, and thank you for the kind words, sir.”

Cheers arose from the crowd as Derek half sourly noted that Elgil wore the colors of Sir Garret before joining in the cheering and being happy for his little sister as she reached over the wooden barrier to briefly touch the offered hilt of the squire’s sword.

“Well you sure made an impression,” He congratulated his sister with a hug and kiss to the cheek. “Maybe this will grow into something other than a onetime thing?”

“A girl can hope,” Came the cheerful answer, somewhat marred by a small belch in the middle of it. “Oops, ‘scuse me. Too much of that lovely wine, I’m afraid.”

“Personally, I think it was that pickle you had earlier.” He jibed with a grin while recalling the full pickled cucumber she had insisted he buy for her.

“But it was sooo good,” She insisted with another little burp from behind her dainty hand and a half hidden grin of her own. “I should have known better, I never have been able to eat cucumbers without the most unladylike problems coming up.”

“Which is why you like them so much,” He returned with a laugh. “Female perversity at its most revealing.”

“Hmmph!” Was all the response he got before the finalists in the joust were brought out and introduced to the crowd, then presented to the King and his entourage to thunderous stamping of feet and cheers.

Sir Garret, resplendent in his deep, almost royal, violet colors and the shining silver of polished steel armor, saluted the King and Queen, then their retinue with a wave of his sword. Following that he turned with a flourish to give the crowd another cheerful acknowledgement. The roar of approval was nearly deafening and Derek thought he was getting a headache from it.

“Is all that good ale getting to you, big brother?” Ilene questioned with the mock concern many women show when their men begin suffering the effects of drinking too much.

“Just the noise,” He avowed with a half guilty show of teeth that might have been a smile. Or gritted teeth. At that point, not even he was sure which.

Garret’s opponent, Sir Alomar, was equally popular in his nearly sullen deep red and burnished black armor. Once the round of cheering, stamping feet and isolated boos faded, Derek decided that he did have a headache. Not that complaining about it to his sister would do any good. He just hoped that she would regret the watered wine she had been happily downing all day long in the morning as he would probably regret the ale.

Three charges and four broken lances later, both contestants were still ahorse, though shields had been discarded for new, less battered ones from each knight’s personal armories.

When Sir Garret emerged victorious following a horseback melee once the last lances had been broken, Derek cheered as wildly as the next person. He might have been embarrassed by some things the knight had seen, and by the attentions he had received from the man, but had to admit the fellow was hard to dislike. Very hard.

The youth was talking to a very animated Ilene, much too animated for decorum, he thought but let it go for the moment when a quiet descended into an outright hush in the huge stadium. Turning to see what was going on he nearly bumped his nose on the extended hilt of an ornate, ceremonial sword. With Sir Garret smiling widely on the other end of it.

“Oh, gods,” Derek swallowed then did so again. “This cannot be happening. Please let it be a joke, or mistake.”

“My small beauty,” Garret spoke directly to him, dashing any hope of a mistake being made. “I have been greatly taken with you and request the honor of your company at the Grand Ball.”

At least he hadn’t mentioned anything about a wedding, Derek thought almost frantically while shaking his head in the negative.

Some laughter, a few cheers of encouragement, and a lot of hisses at his refusal led the boy to stare down at the waiting knight. “I’m not a girl, you know.”

“You could have fooled me, my lovely flower, but I won’t fall for your gamin pose and neither will they. ” Garret replied seriously while gesturing to the crowd.

Chants of “Come on girl, take his offer!” filled the stands and with a rush of humiliation and frustration, Derek realized that most in attendance had taken him for a female. One who hadn’t gotten all gussied up for the contest, but a girl even if she tried to hide the fact. Disabusing them of that notion could prove even more embarrassing than accepting and hoping for the best once he had. With a sigh of resignation, he slowly reached forward to gingerly touch the offered sword hilt to resounding cheers from the onlookers.

“Now who has made an impression?” Ilene giggled while hugging her stunned brother as the other winners approached the stands to claim their feminine prizes. “Now we can get ready for the ball together. Won’t that be fun?”

“Just barrels,” Derek grumbled, wishing he had just stayed at Katrina’s and worked that day. Even if he had ended up wearing another dress, at least that would have been in private, more or less.

Still blushing furiously, he accepted Garret’s offered hand and allowed himself to be seated across the knight’s lap for a slow progress around the field for the benefit of the still cheering crowd.

With one arm thrown around Garret’s neck to stay on, his loose tunic pulled tightly against his chest Derek nearly cringed in shame and fear that someone would notice he wasn’t really a girl at all.

“Don’t worry, no one will make fun of you,” Garret promised with a whisper into his ear. “Most think you are a very pretty young maid as it is. Just sit quietly and nothing will go wrong.”

“Nothing else, you mean, my lord,” Derek choked out to the knight’s amusement.

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Two
 By Maggie Finson
 
A Proposition

or, “You want me to do WHAT?!!

“But I can’t. More, I have no desire or inclination, or even the proper anatomy for this,” Derek nearly exploded in the faces of the ladies sent to supervise his makeover into a decently attired and mannered lady companion to a knight of the realm. “Read my lips. I. AM. NOT. A. GIRL!!”

“Well!” one of matronly ladies snapped in prim outrage. “You should have told Sir Garret that little detail when he chose you.”

“I did, or he knew, or...” the young man faltered in the face of three very determined women who weren’t at all upset by the fact that of his claiming that he was a he instead of a she. What had them in an uproar was that he obviously seemed to be lying to them and in their lofty opinions, should have either refused the choosing, or made it very clear to his/her suitor that she wasn’t interested.

Of course, none of them for a moment believed that Derek was a young man, and he cursed his still light voice and delicate looks. In desperation, he pulled off his tunic and yanked his pants down to reveal the truth. “SEE?”
That action was rewarded with enough resulting chaos to please even the most demanding trickster god in existence. First there were three nearly simultaneous gasps, followed closely by the rustle of skirts moving rapidly away along with that of the tent flap being hurriedly flipped aside. Followed up with shrieks in three voices - harmonizing very nicely, he thought inanely - and the clomping of booted feet running towards him.

Then things really got interesting.

“What’d ya do with the girl?” A guardsman, evidently the senior of the pair who had charged inside the tent with spears at ready, glared at Derek in a mix of admiration and suspicion. “Can’t blame ya for wantin’ ta sneak inta have a look, boy, but dammit, that girl was Sir Garret’s personal choice and she gave her consent willingly enough. Just tell us where she is, we’ll go get her, and manage ta lose ya in the confusion if she‘s all right.”

Warily watching the two still ready spears aimed with negligent ease in his direction, Derek unsuccessfully sought another exit from the lady’s robing tent he had been thrust into following the embarrassing ride with Sir Garret. The only practical exit was quite well blocked by the guardsmen.

“There is, was, and never has been, a girl in this tent since Sir Garret left me here.” Spreading his arms out to show empty hands, the boy belatedly recalled that his pants were pooled around his feet and blushed furiously.

“Sir Garret, was it?” The guardsman who had spoken before questioned with a halfway malicious grin of amusement before turning to his companion for a rapid discussion.

Derek overheard snatches of the conversation like. “No rapist with that wee little thing...” “Blushes real pretty, like a girl...” “Pretty skin and face...”

“All right,” The spokesman for the guardsmen returned his attention to a further humiliated Derek with another grin. “Here’s what we’re gonna do, boy, girl, or whatever.”

Derek winced at that mixed agreement to his claimed gender, and physical sex to boot but kept his mouth closed while the fellow went on.

“We’re gonna send fer Sir Garret, then go ta tha King an’ Queen ta let their Majesties decide who and what ya might be.” Satisfied with that decision, the man actually winked at the youth. “But lessen, I miss me guess, maybe ya should get used ta answerin’ when folk call ya M’Lady.”

“There are days,” Derek sighed in surrender, for the moment at least. “No, make that weeks at a time, when I wonder why I didn’t just kill myself instead of standing for the apprenticeship testing. That would have been soooo much simpler.”

* * * *

Sir Garret entered the tent with a glance for the guards still holding the boy at spear point before chuckling and waving them off. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Is it?” He questioned the youth while smiling broadly. “You aren’t a rapist or anything like that are you, Derek? Or haven’t sneaked in to get an illicit look at the goodies have you?”

“If you mean to keep me from bolting, probably,” Derek admitted, once again taken with the knight’s manner and pleasantly handsome features in spite of part of his mind screaming that he shouldn’t even think of things like that. “As for the illicit look at the goodies...Since I seem to be those goodies in question, I really don’t think so. I’ve seen all there is to see quite often in the past fifteen years, thank you kindly.”

“Would hope so, lad,” The first guardsman nodded then flashed a yellow, but genuine grin. “Me’n Savar here’ll just be waitin’ outside for ya and Sir Garret ta reach agreement.”

“Thank you, Hemish,” Garret nodded to the first guard, then to the second and so far silent one as they retreated from the tent.

“I’m not a girl,” Derek weakly protested to begin things, “and really have no reason for wanting to be one, either.”
“No, you aren’t,” Garret agreed with a grin. “But you are apprenticed to a dressmaker, aren’t you? That was you I saw in the back room of Katrina’s shop yesterday wasn’t it?”

“Yes, sir, it was,” Derek answered in a small voice, embarrassed to have that brought up even if he had expected it. “But I can explain, sir...”

“Perhaps you should allow me to do some explaining of my own, Derek,” The knight quietly interrupted as he seated himself on a padded bench while indicating that the boy should sit down on the stool he was standing beside. “Could you at least hear me out before bolting? If you do that, I’ll abide by your decision after hearing what I have to tell you.”
“All right, Sir Garret,” Derek wondered why he was even willing to listen to the man, but had to admit that the halfway wistful expression on the other’s face was something that had his curiosity aroused. Carefully seating himself on the stool across from Garret, he nodded. “I’m listening, but will make no promises other than that until I hear what it is you have to say.”

“Fair enough,” The knight smiled again, and Derek found himself nearly captivated by the fellow’s personality and sheer charisma. “I suppose you are aware of my... inclinations towards bed partners?”

“Not openly,” Derek assured the man. “Just snatches of overheard conversations between you and your sister, sir. That and something about the way you looked at me during the apprenticeship standings made me think that you might be that way.”

“I see.” Garret grimaced then let out a long sigh before going on. “That was quite perceptive of you, Derek. And also very kind, you not telling anyone of those suspicions. My position in the realm is stable but far from being immune to gossip or other difficulties. Which is what I’m going to tell you about now. Providing you can take my being around you at all, given what you know about me now.”

“Sir...”

“Call me Garret, Derek, please. We may be more intimate or we may not, but you at least deserve that privilege from me.”
“All right, S - Garret,” The boy stumbled over using the knight’s given name, and at the implications of what exactly the other meant by intimate, but had given his word that he would hear the man out. “Go ahead.”

“Well, I am first in line to take over my father’s seat as Duke of Chalmnessa within a few years. It is a very important Duchy, wealthy, with fertile fields, good roads, happy populace, and a fine Lord in my father, Duke Lamont.
“But my ascension to the ducal seat is being contested by my cousin Roric, who I won’t bother to describe to you other than he would make a poor lord, and would not support the King at all. In fact, Roric’s branch of the family has royal pretensions of their own because of ancestry on his mother’s side of the family. My uncle, Baron Luc, is a good but weak man who allows his son to run the barony, which is how I know he would make a poor Duke for my homeland.
“At any rate,” Garret continued. “Roric’s claims to the ducal seat have enough weight that if I am not safely married off within the next year or so, he just might win his suit and gain the Duchy in my stead.”

“Would that be Roric of Lindsay?” Derek questioned warily, not wishing to insult the knight by connecting him in any way with a lord’s son well known among the peasantry for being both cruel and rapacious in collecting his more unpleasant pleasures from them. Derek had distant relations in Lindsay who were little better than slaves even though they were labeled as freemen.

“You know of him, I see,” Garret frowned at memories of his own. “Yes, that is who I’m speaking of here.”

“So where do I fit into this, exactly?” Derek asked, fighting off the bad feeling he was getting about where the entire conversation was leading.

“I’m only a tradesman’s son, and that tradesman died before being able to teach me even the rudiments of his craft, so now I must settle for being the apprentice of a dressmaker. I am not fit to get involved in the dealings of lords, Sir Garret. Or even capable of doing so if caught up in them.”

“That is where we disagree, young one,” Garret flashed a brief smile of encouragement that became almost entreating. “I have watched you since first seeing you in the apprenticeship standings, seen how you handle yourself with others, and must tell you that I see more nobility, even if rough, in you than in many young lords brought up to it because of their births.

“What I am going to ask of you will not be easy, I won’t tell you otherwise, Derek, but it could mean the difference between a decent ruler or a vicious, evil one for my home. One who might eventually maneuver himself onto the throne itself with the Duchy of Chalmnessa as a stepping stone.

“But enough of that, I had no real intent to browbeat you with that kind of knowledge,” Garret shook his head while uncomfortably rearranging his belt along with the sword hanging from it. “What I am trying to tell you is that I find you very attractive, others find you so girlish that most think you really are one, if a bit on the tomboyish side.

“I am asking you for something that would probably be a terrible sacrifice, but also assure you that should you agree, the rewards will be even greater. Whether you remain with me or not.

“I am asking only that you go through with the standard courtship period with me, I will not touch you in any unproprietary manner during that time, and once the time for the engagement arrives, you may gracefully decline without censure or problems from me. I will count you as a friend, even if you won’t go through with the rest. I would even take you as a squire if that is what you want, with no other strings attached that my other squires don’t put up with. Which do not include being my bedmates.

“But all I need for now is a love interest who will show the Grand Council that I am actively seeking a bride.”
“Something I am not quite prepared to become, Garret,” Derek responded with more than a little regret for the man’s predicament. “But let’s say that I did accept your offer for the time, how long exactly would this courtship period last?”
“Beginning at the Grand Ball,” Garret told him with a rueful little grin, “Then for a full year following that. You would, of course, remain apprenticed to Katrina during that time. When not in either my own or my sister’s company. Could you do that? Spend more than a year in skirts, learning how to be a real lady and with everyone forgetting that you really are a young man?”

“I don’t know,” Derek honestly replied, reaching for a cup containing some sweetened wine the ladies he had been handed over to had offered him once he was firmly in their clutches. “What about those ladies I frightened off a while ago. Wouldn’t they, haven’t they blown the lady thing already?”

“Not completely,” Garret laughed, though it sounded a little strained. “Mona ran out flapping her hands crying that this one was no lady and never would be one, the others only parroted her. So your ability with the more delicate manners of being a lady is in question, but the fact that everyone still thinks you are a girl isn’t.”

“Aack!” Derek nearly choked when he spit up the wine he had just taken a large mouthful of. Not only because Garret seemed quite assured that everyone thought he was really a female, but also because the wine was very strong and so thick with the honey that sweetened it his throat felt clogged by the stuff.

Garret moved to pound him on the back, but was waved away as Derek regained his breath while looking at the man with watering eyes. “Wuh - what is this concoction?”

“It’s called The Lady’s Ease” Garret grinned at the expression on the boy’s face. “Pretty nasty isn’t it? Ladies in confinement for one reason or another, or wed to a lord they find otherwise unpalatable, use it to make their conjugal duties a bit less onerous.”

“I can believe that,” Derek sputtered for another moment before giving in to the absolute absurdity of the moment and starting to laugh uproariously.

“Trust me on this one, Garret. I will be most careful not to be needing any of this awful stuff in the future.”
“Then you won’t do it?”

“I didn’t say that,” Derek felt a twinge at the almost desperate look of defeat on the other’s face before rationalizing as much to himself as to the knight who had made such an outrageous request of him. “First, as you say, I am apprenticed to a dressmaker - something that is usually reserved to girls.

“Secondly, as you yourself have pointed out and I have found much to my own humiliation, most people who see me take me for a girl almost immediately.

“Third,” growing serious again, he stared at the tent wall with a grimace of his own. “I have already apparently accepted your choosing of me as a companion for the Grand Ball, and even if I refused now, I would still be stuck either as a ridiculed male working to learn the dressmaker’s trade, or need to live as a girl until I was able to move far away from here.

“Since I prefer to remain in this kingdom - everyone I know is here - it would have to be one of the first two choices. So, I shall accept your kind offer, Sir, with the warning that your new lady may not be as tractable or delicate as you might like.”
“Good,” Garret arose from his own seat and moved to face the young man who was going to become his affianced lady. “I give you my heartfelt thanks for this.”

“Don’t bother,” Derek grumbled half sourly. “It wasn’t really fair putting the welfare of the whole kingdom up against my holding to a male role that most people around me thought of as sadly lacking in the first place. But I won’t hold that against you. Much.”

“Well,” Garret grinned a bit sheepishly, “You have the put upon pout down fairly well already. I am sorry you feel that way, and won’t hold you to the agreement you just made if it is a real problem for you.”

“I said I would do it,” Derek grumbled again. “And I will. I just hope no one finds out that I’m not really a girl, or that I don’t trip over the skirts I’ll be wearing and break something I consider important. Like my fool neck.”

“Your natural grace would likely prevent such a horrid occurrence,” Garret offered a bit lamely.

“I’m glad you think so, Garret,” Derek sighed while reaching again for the cup of Lady’s Ease and slowly raising it to his lips. “But I think I’ll be needing this after all. For a while, anyway.”

Watching the young man drain the cup with something like desperation to match his own and in no little amazement at the feat, Garret shook his head and offered the pitcher containing more of the sickly sweet, but potent brew. “We need to give you a decent girl’s name, you know. Lady Derek just doesn’t ring off the tongue or in the ear all that well.”

“So long as you don’t want to call me Dorothy, Dotty, or Dot,” Derek mumbled around the rim of his refilled cup. “Got any ideas?”

“How about something like Daphne?”

“Uh uh,” Derek shook his head. “Too soft, and I am not going to be any shrinking violet, sir.”

“Donna?”

“No, I have a cousin named Donna. A real bitch that one is. I’d think of her every time someone called me that and get a reputation for being a very unpleasant person.”

“Dana?”

“Forget it.”

“Right, too much like Donna,” Garret scratched his head then helped himself to some of the pitcher’s contents too. “How about Denise?”

“Not quite right,” Derek shrugged, “Don’t take all that stuff. I’m the one changing gender here. Not you.”

“There’s another pitcher of it right behind you,” Garret gestured and waited until he was sure his soon to be lady had seen the object and its contents before trying again. “Dahlia?”

“Nope, no flower names either.”

“Are you going to be this difficult to handle when you’re in skirts?” Garret questioned almost plaintively.
“Most likely,” The youth nodded before taking another, more decorous sip of the potent sweetened brew. “You wouldn’t want one of those fading violet types anyway, not your type.”

“How would you know what my ‘type’ is?”

“You picked me, didn’t you?” Derek grumped then grinned wickedly. “I never have been the shy, retiring type.”

“This is going to take a lot of work,” The knight sighed, then brightened again. “I’ve got it. How about Deirdre? Or Delores?”
“Delores,” Derek agreed. “I’d never get Deirdre spelled right.”

“You already read and write,” Garret nodded. “That’s good. Was it a church or guild school?”

“Church,” The newly christened Lady let out a very unladylike belch, then covered his mouth with a dainty hand. “Oops, excuse me. Yes it was church sponsored. The priests thought I had potential to be one of them once my father died. Until I refused to get up for prayers one morning that just felt too early and cold to put up with. After that, I learned on my own, with a bit of help from anyone who could or would.”

“That’s no surprise,” Garret nodded with the beginnings of a wicked little smile. “The priest’s response or the gumption to keep learning you have shown after leaving their tender clutches.

“There’s someone waiting outside to help you get ready for your first introduction to their majesties, Deirdre,” Garret rose from the bench and moved towards the closed tent flap. “I’ll send her in now and wait outside until you’re presentable.”
“I thought we were going to use Delores?” Derek sighed while trying to work the muzziness all that Lady’s Ease had filled his mind with enough to give at least a semblance of coherent argument over the knight’s unilateral decision over what his name would be.

“I know a supposed lady named Delores,” Garret shuddered. “Who raises the same responses from me that your Donna does to you. Would calling yourself Deirdre be so bad?”

“Oh, I guess I could learn to spell it,” Deirdre winced at hearing his new name and grumbled a bit over it, but made no overt motions towards attempted escape. “All right, My Lord, send whoever it is you have waiting out there in here and let’s get this farce going.”

Without much in the way of surprise, he soon saw Katrina’s still trim figure enter the tent carrying a suspiciously familiar looking bundle of violet cloth.

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Three
 By Maggie Finson
 
Looking the Part

or, How am I supposed to move around in this stuff?

Deirdre twitched at his long, encumbering skirts for a moment to rearrange them into a more comfortable fit as they settled into place with a soft, feminine hiss of silk and satin. After that he gave his bodice a little tug to straighten it and move the scratchy, tickling lace away from the bare flesh of his upper chest. A tug to each sleeve, followed with a hesitant pat at his newly curled and upswept raven hair seemed to finish the ritual of discomfort.

“Very good, Deirdre,” Katrina beamed with halfway sardonic amusement in her pretty face as he continued to fuss with the feminine garments she had helped him put on. “You’ll get used to all this soon enough, dear. Now please stop fussing over your gown and let me finish your ensemble. It is very important that you make a good impression on Their Majesties or all this will go for nothing.”

“That wouldn’t disappoint me at all,” Deirdre, formerly Derek, grumbled quietly as he complied and carefully seated himself on the same padded bench Garret had used earlier and nearly sprawling on his pretty face when one slipper clad foot tangled with a wayward petticoat. “Gods! How in the name of every holy shrine in the realm do women get around in this stuff without seriously harming themselves?”

“For one thing,” Katrina chuckled as she gracefully seated herself on the bench opposite her charge, showing him how to smooth skirts and petticoats with one fluid motion and lifting her skirt slightly to prevent it or her underskirts from impeding her motion. “We were born to it, and have a lifetime of practice in doing so. For another, we ladies always lift our skirts just a bit whenever we move at all to keep from doing what you just did.

“Now try it again, dear, and do try to get it right. I don’t know how I’d explain it to Sir Garret if his lady broke her lovely little neck because of wearing a proper gown.”

Deirdre replied with a very pungent - and shockingly unladylike - expression, but arose, gracefully - if gingerly - then seated himself correctly. “Better?”

“Much,” Katrina nodded with a smile that became a frown after a moment. “And I’ll hear no more such unladylike spewings from that pretty mouth of yours, missy. If I do you will be taught the error of your ways in a most conclusive manner. Do I make myself clear, Deirdre?”

“Yes, Katrina,” Deirdre meekly answered, while watching his taskmistress, teacher, and friend through lowered lashes and covering his smile with a small, immaculately cleaned and tended hand. “I have no desire for the taste of soap in my mouth, even if it is prettily scented.”

“I thought not, My Lady,” Katrina grinned as she used the title, much to the femininely clad youth’s chagrin. “You aren’t a little tomboyish gamin any longer, Deirdre. You are a very beautiful young lady who should wear her clothing with style and grace.”

“Yeah, right,” Deirdre, still getting settled into the idea of even having a girl’s name, let alone answering to it grimaced as Katrina moved behind him and gently lifted the tantalizing curls left at his neck.

“You are, dear,” Katrina seriously repeated. “Very lovely. You are every bit as beautiful as your sister Ilene and a bit more thanks to your more mature shape.”

“Thanks to your padding and a corset so tight I can barely take in a decent breath....Owww!” He flinched as a sharp pain hit his right earlobe, quickly followed by another in the left before he could recover enough to even move away. “What are you doing?”

“Why I’ve already done it, M’Lady,” Katrina chuckled as he felt something pushed through the newly pierced holes in his earlobes then a weight swinging from each one. “Now you are able to wear the lovely earrings Lady Jessica loaned you.”

“Wonderful,” Very carefully reaching one dainty hand to one ear, he let out a suffering sigh when it encountered a gold pendant earring with a gemstone in its center. The other, he knew without checking, matched perfectly. “Another distraction.”

“One that is both necessary and very enhancing for your appearance, dear,” Katrina pointed out with a smirk. “They aren’t as huge as they feel to you now, in fact they are quite delicate little things.”

“Maybe,” Deirdre allowed as he hesitantly touched each one again. “But they still feel very heavy and they pull at my ears.”

“One of the prices we pay for beauty, my little lady,” The dressmaker replied in all seriousness. “Discomfort is a small thing compared to being admired and possibly taken for a wife by a strong, rich lord.”

“Like Garret,” Deirdre grumbled, mostly to himself.

“Exactly, little one,” Katrina agreed as she placed a necklace around her new charge’s slim, elegant throat. “You would have a far better life with him than any you might contrive on your own.”

“But it wouldn’t be my life,” Argued the feminized youth. “It would be a lie, me living as Deirdre, and -- married to Garret. It wouldn’t be real, or anything I’d worked for myself.”

“Oh it will be real, dear,” Katrina corrected, “As real as you and Garret make it. As for working for it, missy, I can promise you that getting to that stage of things will involve more purely hard work on your part than if you had managed to apprentice yourself to the blacksmith or chosen to be some knight‘s squire.”

“I have been chosen by a knight,” Deirdre sighed grumpily, lightly rubbing his forehead with scented fingertips to ease the headache he had from too much ale, then Lady’s Ease, with the subsequent head dunkings and vomiting induced by the potions Katrina had brought with her to sober the youth up enough to be coherent again. “I think I would have rather stayed with you, learning to make ladies clothing.”

“That option is still open to you, dear,” Katrina pulled his hand away from his head with a light negative shake of her head to indicate that rubbing one’s forehead was not at all in character. “But if you take it instead of the one given to you by Garret, I am afraid that you will still be doing it as a girl.”

“Why?” Deirdre plaintively questioned, looking almost pathetic in his very feminine dress, cosmetics, and jewelry with his shining raven hair put up and styled. Almost pathetic, in actuality, the expression and gestures he was using were quite fetchingly lovely. “Why does everyone who knows me seem so intent on making me into a girl?”

“For your own safety and well being,” Katrina flatly stated with almost no expression in either her voice or face. “Had you run off, as your mother and sister feared you would, some unscrupulous person would have seen your beauty and had you in skirts anyway - in some brothel catering to men who like their boys to be pretty and girlish.”

“I’ve learned to take care of myself,” Deirdre began to argue, then gave his garments a rueful look as he stopped his tirade before it really got going. “All, right, I’ll admit to that possibility, though it was something I never considered could happen. I was going to join a thieve’s guild somewhere, and make a name for myself.”

“Which would have put you right in the hands of people like I was just telling you about,” The dressmaker replied softly. “Or in prison, maimed, or even dead in some gutter. Would you prefer that to the life you have a chance at now?”

“Well...” Deirdre let out a breath and made himself relax, arranging his skirts and toying with the amethyst studded necklace around his slim throat in a very revealingly feminine manner. “Since you put it that way. I never really thought about things much beyond getting away and becoming a thief.”

But at least it would have been as a man,he thought to himself one last time.

“Now, dear, let’s stop this griping and self pity so I can get this hat on you properly to complement your face and hair to best advantage.” Katrina was good as her word, fussing with the silly little rounded cap and the gold threaded veil that covered his hair and the back of his neck for what felt like a week to the youth before stepping back with a sigh of satisfaction.

* * * *

“Well, M’Lady,” Katrina uncovered a full length mirror in one corner of the tent with a flourish. “Come have a look at yourself then we must meet Garret and his men for the trip to the castle.”

Deirdre already entranced with the feel of soft fabrics against smooth even softer flesh, made his way to the mirror without embarrassing incidents, or even stumbling. The advice on taking smaller steps and lifting the hem of his gown a little had paid off once he accepted it. He halted beside a beaming Katrina, fearing to look at the boy in a dress he expected to see no matter how hard the dressmaker had worked on him then steeled himself to take at least a quick glance. Just to see how bad it really was.

It was bad. But not in the way he had feared, and hoped. A slightly older version of his lovely sister stood in front of him, clad in the violet satins, silks and velvets of Garret’s household colors and blushing at the picture of delicately feminine beauty in front of him.
Slender, but with curves in all the proper places, with a doll-like face framed in thick night black curls and the veil descending from the rounded velvet cap, it really couldn’t be called a hat, he knew, it wasn’t big enough, this was a lady without doubt. And a very desirable one, even if young and obviously not into her full maturity - a state that promised to be nothing short of awe inspiring once reached - with a hint of defiant mischief in her large blue eyes.

“I - I look like Ilene,” He softly moaned.

“No, dear,” Katrina gently turned him away from the mirror with a sad smile. “You look like your mother when she was younger and had just married your father.”

Picturing the care and work worn face of his mother, the faded hair, and her already bent but still slender frame, Deirdre saw the resemblance, and fought off the beginning of tears as he considered what it would have taken to change such beauty into a near crone.

“She was stubborn, too,” Katrina continued, as if speaking to the air. “Wouldn’t remarry after your father’s death, or even take a position with my shop that would have led to a partnership eventually. She loved your father very much, and his children even more. Still does, and works ceaselessly to see that you each have the chance in life that she lost.

“So please don’t be a stubborn little ass over all this, Deirdre, as I know you are thinking of,” She finished while leading the bemused newly made lady towards the opening to outside. “Life would be much worse for you if you did, and neither I nor your mother and sister could really bear that.”

Deirdre wanted to ask more questions, about a thousand of them, actually, but Katrina would have none out of him. Instead, she gave him that curiously sad, gentle smile and led him out to his new life.

* * * *

“What, exactly,” Hands on hips for lack of anything better or more useful to do with them, Deirdre stared in outrage at the waiting horse, saddled and ready for him to mount. “Do you expect me to do with that?”

“That M’lady,” The guardsman who had first spoken to him in the tent, Hemish, pointed out with a straight face, “Is a horse, a mare ta be more ta tha point. Her name is Glorious Beauty in the Wind, but we jest call her Glory fer short. A finer and more gentle tempered or loyal mare won’t be found anywheres round here, and if ya keep calling yer own lovely mount a that, you’ll hurt her feelins.”

“Did you say she’s mine?” Deirdre questioned with the softer carefully coached voice Katrina had taught him to use while giving the long legged, champagne colored mare an appreciative looking over.

“A gift from Sir Garret, M’Lady,” The guardsman confirmed.

“She’s beautiful!” Deirdre momentarily forgot the actual reason for his outburst to move closer and hold out a hand for the - his - mare to sniff. Which she did, then nuzzled and lipped at the offered hand.

“An spoiled,” Hemish chuckled, handing Deirdre a piece of hard candy. “This be what she wants, or a fine apple from the King’s own orchards whenever she can reach em.”

The mare greedily slurped up the offered candy, crunched it contentedly in her teeth then gave her benefactress a pleading look before lipping at the outstretched hand again.

“Not just spoiled,” Deirdre laughed, the first real one he had let out in several days. “Greedy, too. I’ll have to find some more of those for you, Glory.”

“Ere ya go, lass,” Hemish held out a linen cloth folded over several more of the treats. “Keep em outta her sight, though, or she’ll like as not nose ya ta tha point a bruisin ta get em from ya.”

“Oh is that so?” Deirdre asked the mare, who returned an innocent look at the question, then snorted.

“Well,” a familiar and still somewhat uncomfortable voice for Deirdre to hear approached. “I see that you two are getting acquainted already. And matched up quite well, I might add. Beauty and temperament together in each of you.”

“Thank you,” Deirdre primly answered the knight then turned his attention back to the silk covered saddle on his mare. “That is what I was talking about earlier, not Glory.”

“A lady never rides astride,” Katrina put in with clear amusement in her voice. “It’s a sidesaddle, dear, so you won’t ruin your gown while riding. Or have it all rucked up around your thighs when you do.”

“A sidesaddle,” Deirdre parroted without enthusiasm. He had only the faintest idea of how to use a - to him - real saddle, never having the opportunity to do more than admire horses and dream of riding one of the gaily caparisoned mounts. Now that he actually had the chance, it was in a way that he would never have agreed to in the past.

“Here,” Garret put his hands around the slender waist of his new lady and easily lifted the young beauty into the waiting saddle with a few hints on how to ride. “Just hook one knee over the horn, sit back into the cantle, and hold the reins gently. Glory will stay with the rest of the horses, so for now you have no need to guide her.”

The high backed, padded cantle supported his back quite comfortably, though it held him very erect in the saddle, while the knee and leg wrapped tightly around the horn were both sufficiently padded by the skirt and petticoats he wore that the position was actually comfortable. Physically, anyway.

Garret gave the now mounted Deirdre and the patiently waiting Glory an appreciative look then reached up to gently place a cloak of dark violet wool across the now distaff youth’s shoulders. “It’s getting a bit cool, dear lady. I thought this would go well with your gown.”

Fastening the ornate clasp with the hand not occupied in holding the reins, Deirdre nodded her thanks and managed a weak smile for the man. “I find myself thanking you again, Sir. Or should I thank the Lady Jessica, instead?”

The question drew a rich peal of laughter out of the man, much to Deirdre’s surprise and - dare he even think it? - pleasure.
“Ah, now you have me there, Lady Deirdre,” Garret, still chuckling, gave his lovely companion a broad smile. “Yes, the gown, the jewelry, the ‘darling’ little cap, Glory, and the cloak were my sister’s doing. She wished for you to make a very favorable impression, so insisted on giving them to you.”

“I’m flattered and grateful,” Deirdre responded, not really thinking that it had been such a favor, but still acknowledging his debt to Jessica. “Please thank your sister for me, and tell her she is far too kind to a stranger.”

“Oh, I think you’ll have the chance to do that yourself,” Garret replied as he mounted his own Palfrey with a flourish that had the lovely boy thinking bad thoughts all over again as the man continued. “Once we reach the King’s Castle. She’ll be there and is very anxious to meet you.”

“I’ll look forward to it then,” Deirdre replied. Luckily, the other part of what he had nearly blurted out was held back by the jolt of Glory beginning to move with the others.

“You should, you know,” Mounted like Deirdre, Katrina guided her own mount to a spot beside her new creation. “You are absolutely stunning in that ensemble. You’ll be melting men’s hearts and hardening other parts of them from the moment you reach the main road.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” Fanning himself with his one free hand, Deirdre faked a girlish giggle that came out far too convincingly for his comfort. With a put upon glare for his new mentor, he finished. “Are you happy now? I’m even giggling like some brainless little girl.”

“Girl, probably, little, in stature only I hope, and brainless?” Katrina shook her head in denial. “I think not, my dear. You always were much too bright for your own good. Just try and curb that incessant digging for knowledge a bit, could you? A lady simply does not do some of the things you have shown interest in before.

“Now you need to turn your attention to sewing, needlework embroidery, managing your lord’s household and learning to be the finest, most gracious lady you can possibly be.” With a wink, the dressmaker began to leave her protégé’s side. “I think all that will be keeping your busy mind and hands well occupied over the next while.”

“Ohh, I can’t wait,” Deirdre cooed in an exaggeratedly feminine and empty headed lilt.

“That’s the spirit, dear.”

He couldn’t even kick her, the way he was riding. A biting comment died unborn on his painted lips as the source of his present difficulties rode up beside him.

“You are very lovely, Deirdre,” Garret offered then grimaced at the thunderous expression that brought out in the newborn lady. “And do try to accept compliments without glaring daggers at the unfortunate who gives them to you, please? I will hold to my end and do nothing ungentlemanly in your presence, nor will I force my attentions on you beyond what is expected of us. Fair enough?”

“Are you trying to offer me a truce?”

“You could say that,” Garret grinned, drawing a white silk cloth from inside his cloak and waving it in the air. “Deal?”

“Like I have a choice,” Deirdre/Derek laughed at the man’s antics in spite of his discomfort at being dressed as a female. “All right, Sir. I accept.”

* * * *

Their journey from the outlying pavilions through the city to reach the palace was an eye opening experience for the newly christened Deirdre.

First, the sheer novelty of riding a horse eased the reluctant lady’s fears, then seeing a few familiar faces among the crowd lining the street in the quarter he had lived in for all his life brought them back to the forefront of his thoughts.

Most of those familiar ones favored him with a perplexed look before resuming their cheering. Others, only a few, gave him looks of disgust but made no move to cry that Garret’s new lady was really a boy. Still others he knew gave him encouraging smiles and nods of approval.

Leaning over in his saddle, Garret laid a hand on Deirdre’s shoulder. “You could try to smile and wave instead of giving everyone that deer caught in the lantern expression. They are cheering for you, after all.”

“For me?” Deirdre shook his head and sighed. “I thought it was for you.” But shouts of his new name came clear and those fairly well equaled the ones cheering Garret.

“Oh, great.” Smiling in spite of his discomfort, though weakly, he gave the crowd a tentative wave then shrugged. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to this, won’t I? May as well get started now.”

“That’s the spirit, my love.” Garret approved with a mischievous smirk and sparkle in his eyes that had Deirdre laughing in spite of his current predicament.

With a femininely defiant lift of his chin, Deirdre widened his eyes and put on an innocent expression while still smiling and waving. “As for that ‘deer in the lantern expression’ my good sir. You try parading down the main street of town in this getup and see how you’d like it.”

“I’d feel foolish.” Garret nodded in agreement. “Which I’m sure you are feeling just now. However, I would be nowhere near the delicate beauty you are in those garments, m’lady love.”

“Hah!” Deirdre snorted in response. “I’m no delicate flower of maidenhood and you know that all too well, sirrah.”
“People see what they expect to see.” Garret grinned at his conflicted lady. “What they all expect is seeing my lovely young Lady properly at my side. Stop worrying about this and just let yourself enjoy it as I see you’ve been trying not to admit that you are.”
Deirdre started to deny that, then startled himself by running a softened hand lightly over the silks and satins he was wearing. “But it just isn’t right. I shouldn’t like this. I’m not a…”

Garret shook his head while placing a finger softly to Deirdre’s lips to stop what was coming from them. “I know, I know. If you find it so onerous, I can arrange for a quiet exit from the palace for you and no one will blame you for that. Just try to endure this for a while longer. Please.”

“No.” Deirdre, still getting used to that name and using it to describe himself shook his own head gently. “I mean that won’t be necessary. I agreed to do this, Garret, and I’ll see it through. With all the proper smiles, gestures, and manner of dress required to do so. Even if I think I’m going to be a real challenge to whoever tries teaching me to be a proper lady.”

“You already possess the proper sense of honor.” The knight answered with a genuinely admiring look to his still reluctant lady that dissolved into another mirthful one. “And you certainly do look the part, my dear. You’re really quite beautiful you know. Perhaps you were meant to be a girl but the gods made a mistake of some sort. Or made you as you are specifically for some reason.”

“Whatever.” Deirdre returned the smile a bit sourly. “I’ll put in my year with you then we’re quits, right?”

“As my lady wishes.” Garret lifted one of Deirdre’s hands and softly kissed its palm to an increase in the cheering from the onlookers.
Now why? He wondered as the little shivers of pleasure ran from his hand to other parts of his body on tiny, caressing feet. Do I feel this way when he holds my hand? Or get such a warm feeling in my stomach when he kissed it?

That was something he preferred not to think about too deeply. The former Derek pushed those thoughts away and concentrated on smiling, waving, and not embarrassing himself and Garret by falling off the horse or throwing up.

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Four
 By Maggie Finson
 

A Potential Sister-in-Law, Others, and a Royal Decree

or, What was I Thinking of When I agreed to this?!!

 

He was almost used to being on horseback when they reached the palace gates and were ushered inside by respectful grooms, one of which helped him dismount. The man’s hands on his waist as Deirdre was easily lifted from the saddle and gently set to the ground felt nice, but not as nice as Garret’s. That random thought had him nearly throwing up all over again and he swallowed his rising gorge with a small grimace that he explained to the concerned groom with the comment. “Too much Lady’s Ease.”

Nodding wisely, the groom, a young man covered with muscle and a scent that was uniquely male mixed with that of straw, hay, and horse, smiled encouragingly. “I wouldn’t think one as lovely as you would require that concoction when you have the kingdom’s premiere knight staring daggers at me for simply assisting you to dismount, M’lady.”

“Oh, trust me.” Deirdre drily replied. “I needed it, and think more might be a good thing just now.” And in the future, he thought.
Then it hit him. Garret was jealous? Of a groom who simply helped him get off the horse? That was something he wasn’t quite ready to assimilate, so he gave the boy a smile of thanks, and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Sure enough, Garret was watching closely when Deirdre turned to face him with a grin of his own. “What? I can’t properly thank a gentleman for assisting me, dearest? Surely that is no crime.”

That he had kissed another male, even if only on the cheek, was another thing Deirdre chose not to consider, even if it had seemed a perfectly natural to do at the time.

Garret actually grinned back while offering his hand. “None at all, dear one. I was simply somewhat surprised that you did it is all.”

“You and me both.” Deirdre grumbled with a toss of his head that said more about him and his gender than he cared to look too closely at before going on. “I told you I would do this, didn’t I? A real Lady rewards those who deserve it, doesn’t she?”

“Of course she does.” Garret agreed, linking arms with Deirdre and guiding the youth towards the palace stairs. “So I am vindicated in my choice of ladies, don’t you think?”

“I just keep getting deeper and deeper into this, don’t I?” Deirdre questioned with a sigh.

“You are quite lady-like already.” Garret agreed with a little smile. “Though from what I saw before all this, it was clear that you were more girl than boy. Argue that if you like, but the truth is already coming out.”

“You.” Deirdre grumped quietly. “Are not helping me at all right now.”

“Of course I am, my love.” Garret chuckled. “You simply haven’t realized that yet.”

“Oh wonderful.”

“Yes it is, darling.” Garret responded while giving Deirdre’s arm a squeeze. “You are already a lady to be reckoned with, dearest. Believe me on that one.”

“I’ll take that one with a grain of salt.” Deirdre, still thinking of himself as Derek in a very weird position, answered. “I’m just trying to do things that won’t make a fool of me and you.”

“You are considerate of others, too.” Garret actually moved his arm around the boy’s waist and gave him a hug. “If you were truly a woman, I do believe I would still be smitten with you.”

“I suppose that was a compliment.” Deirdre sighed.

“Oh, it was my so lovely lady.” Garret responded with another hug then linked arms again. “Now prepare to meet my sister, your future sister-in-law if things progress as I hope they will.”

“Let’s not get carried away here.” Deirdre countered then fussily rearranged her skirts while giving Garret a look that held vanity and daggers. “If I’m going to actually meet the lady this gown was made for, I’m going to be sure it is settled properly and looks right.”

“The gown was made for you, dearest.” Garret said with a shrug. “Even if my sister commissioned it from your mistress. It looks far better gracing your lovely form than it would have on her, beautiful as she may be.”

“Oh, thank you for that.” Deirdre answered drily with a lift of plucked eyebrows. “My poor sense of being male is having a hard enough time with all this.”

“Only the truth, my love.” Garret answered.

“Will you please STOP calling me that?” Deirdre almost shouted while slapping his arm.

“Why should I lie about having found the love of my life?” The knight questioned innocently.

“Oh, shut up.” Deirdre sighed. “I do not need to hear that kind of thing just now, trust me.”

“But hear it you will, my dear.” Garret took an unresisting hand and slowly kissed its palm again, noting the shivers that caused in his chosen with a small smile. “I confess that I am already smitten with you, and can only hope and pray to the gods that you return that feeling in time.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, sirrah.” Deirdre answered quietly, but inwardly smiling at the attention and the feelings that aroused in him.

* * * *

“Garret!” A beautiful and petite lady lost her decorum and actually ran to greet the knight, at least as much as her skirts would allow. “You’ve brought your chosen!”

Deirdre endured the lady’s scrutiny with an aplomb he didn’t think he could achieve along with a clumsy curtsey. “My Lady. I am Deirdre and have to thank you for the lovely gown, the horse, and everything else.”

“My name is Jessica.” Garret’s sister answered simply with a twinkle of amusement in her clear grey eyes. “Use it, please. My brother’s intended has no need to use titles with me.”

“Uh, Jessica.” Deirdre answered. “You do know what I really am, don’t you?”

“A mere technicality.” The lady replied with a sunny smile. “You are more a lady than many who were born to the position. I saw that when we caught a glimpse of you in the dressmaker’s back room. Incidentally, you were wearing this very gown. It is beautiful, and nicely compliments your own beauty.”

“I’m no lady, Jessica.” Deirdre said with a little sigh. “I agreed to help your brother, and that’s all.”

“Time will tell.” Jessica answered with a little smile and toss of her head that reminded Deirdre of a similar motion he had used earlier that had the woman’s flaxen hair threatening to come loose from it’s carefully coiffed shape. “Garret is hard to ignore, you know. He is quite handsome, and gallant with the ladies.”

“I noticed.” Deirdre sighed heavily. “Oh, forgive me for being impolite. My name seems to be Deirdre now.”

“A lovely name for a lovely lady.” Jessica answered with a smile. “I do hope we can become friends, Deirdre.”

“You know?” Deirdre sighed at the other’s small nod then decided he may as well try to like this lady. “I hope so too. You have no idea of how humiliating it was for me to be looking up when I spoke with girls my own age. It will be refreshing to be with one who is eye to eye with me, so to speak.”

“Oh, I know all too well how it is to be so petite.” Jessica laughed. “For a lady, that is no impediment at all, but an advantage at times.”

“I’ll believe that when it happens.” Deirdre replied with a small grimace.

“Oh, believe it now, my dear.” Jessica smiled as she gestured to Garret. “My brother, like any other sane man who sets eyes on you, will do all in his power to protect you.”

“Why?” Deirdre was genuinely curious about the answer to that one.

“You, my dear sister to be.” Jessica grinned. “Are already a lady, I watched your progress to the palace and saw that. One to be cherished, and loved. In time that will come clear to you.”

“In the meantime.” Jessica favored Deirdre with an evil little grin. “I will be teaching you how to be a proper lady for my brother and everyone else. But especially for my brother.”

“I can’t wait.” Deirdre sighed.

“Oh, I’ll have my hands full, I know.” The lady chuckled as her eyes sparkled with mischief reminiscent of her brother. “But you will learn, my dear. I’ll see to that.”

“Isn’t anyone involved here besides me even a little bit concerned that I’m a boy under all this finery?” Deirdre questioned plaintively.

“A very fortunate boy, then.” Jessica said with another toss of her head in dismissal of that. “To be given the chance to learn just how pleasurable being a lady of worth can be.”

“I’m doomed.” He muttered to the amusement of the real lady standing beside him.

“Come dear.” Jessica gently guided Deirdre up the immaculate marble stairs. “You need to freshen up a bit before being presented to their majesties.”

“I’m going to be in front of the King? Like this?!!” Deirdre went pale at the thought.

“Of course you will be presented to the King.” Jessica answered matter-of-factly then added. “And to her majesty the Queen since you will be spending a fair amount of time in her company.”

“Oh, joy.” Deirdre grimaced. “This situation just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?”

“Yes it does, dear sister.” Jessica answered with a little smirk. “In time, you will come to agree, I’m sure. Being a titled lady is far better than being some peasant girl, after all.”

“But I’m NOT a girl!” Deirdre protested.

“Could have fooled me.” Jessica answered simply then winked. “And don’t worry about technicalities just now. I’m quite certain their majesties can handle that little problem.”

“Little problem?” Deirdre questioned incredulously. “Being a boy playing at being a lady is only a little problem?”

“A minor bump in the road.” Jessica assured him. “Nothing that a royal edict can’t fix.”

Nonplussed, the boy had no rejoinder to that one and simply closed his eyes and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “If you say so.”

“I do.” Jessica gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “But now, come along. You need to wash your face of the dust from the road then redo your makeup before being presented to the King and Queen.”

“Oh, lovely.” Deirdre grumped.

“That you are, my dear sister.” Jessica answered with a chuckle. “If only you were able to see that right now, but you will learn. I promise you that.”

“Can I say that I’m not really looking forward to that at the moment?”

“It doesn’t matter, dear Deirdre.” She replied with a negligent wave of her hand. “You are, and will soon come to not only accept the fact, but glory in it. You are truly a rare beauty and it would have been a terrible waste to force you to live life as a male. Believe me.”

“Oh, that makes things sooo much better.” Deirdre glumly responded then shook his head. “Lead on, Jessica. I know I can’t get out of this, so we may as well do the best we can with the situation.”

“Spoken like a true lady.” Jessica said with a warm smile. “As you are, though you haven’t realized that as of yet. But you will, dear one, you will.”

“I can’t wait.” Deirdre grumped.

“It will come, dear, it will come.” Jessica responded with a smile. “Once it does, you will wonder why you ever tried to fight the inevitable.”

“I’ll believe that when it happens, if you’ll forgive my saying so.” Deirdre answered a little tartly.

“You already respond like a woman, you know.” Jessica chuckled.

“Gods.” Deirdre sighed. “It isn’t bad enough that people who didn’t know me thought I was a girl dressed like a boy. Now I have to put up with being told I make a beautiful girl who has a knight enamored of me.”

“All true, dear sister.” Jessica answered with a smug little smile. “You can’t escape your fate, so you may as well do all you can to embrace it.”

“Like I have a choice?” Deirdre sighed.

“None at all, dear.” Jessica answered with another smile. “Now come, let’s get you presentable for your audience with the King and Queen.”

“Right.” Deirdre accepted the warm, wet, scented cloth Jessica gave him and started cleaning the dust from the procession he’d been part of that had accumulated on his face and hands. “Far be it from me to embarrass Sir Garret in front of royalty.”

“You’re learning already.” Jessica answered then reached behind her to bring out an elegantly carved wooden box. “Now, let’s get your makeup done properly, something you’ll need to learn to do yourself, but for now I’ll get it done.”

“Oh thank you.”

“Sarcasm does not become you, dear.” Jessica told him while opening the box and choosing colors that would flatter Deirdre. “Though it does add a touch of the gamin to the lady that you are.”

“Wonderful.” Deirdre sighed as Jessica began redoing his makeup.

* * * *

“The Lady Deirdre Hawthorn, daughter of Derek and Leila Hawthorn requests an audience with your majesties!” The herald shouted as Deirdre entered the throne room.

Derek performed the curtsey that Jessica had drilled into him with more than a few silent curses then raised his head to look at the platform where the thrones were. Daughter! He thought as the ranks of nobles assembled bowed or curtsied in response to his own.

“You may approach the throne.” Cedric, the King announced formally while waving Deirdre forward.

Deirdre hesitantly began to move forward, all too conscious of the still unfamiliar skirts and petticoats he was wearing and careful not to get himself tangled up in them. Tripping at this point would be far more humiliating than being presented to the King and Queen as a female.

The result was a view of a very self possessed young lady making her way to the throne.

At the foot of the staircase leading to the throne, Deirdre curtsied again, only raising his head to see if he’d done that properly.

“Welcome, Lady Deirdre.” Cedric smiled. “It is good to see the lady our beloved Sir Garret has decided to make his wife.”

“I am honored beyond words, your majesty.” Deirdre answered haltingly. “Thank you, my liege.”

Wife?!! Deirdre thought frantically. I hadn’t agreed to THAT!!

Deirdre curtsied again, surprised at how close to being a natural act doing that had already become and blushed. “I thank you again, your majesty.”

“You are truly a lovely flower, dear.” Cedric smiled. “You may come to me now.”

Deirdre steeled himself, using a hand to gather his skirts and mounted the stairs to reach the level the King was on. He noted Harald, the King’s sorcerer in the background, watching carefully, and curtsied again, not raising his head once that was accomplished.
The king reached out a hand and gently lifted Deirdre’s face to look at him. “Be welcome to our court, lady Deirdre. I do think you will grace us with your beauty for many years to come.”

Deirdre, it was useless thinking of himself as Derek curtsied again, with a tremor in his stomach. “I thank you for the welcome, your majesty. I will endeavor to see that I live up to your expectations while I am here.”

“You are truly lovely.” Evaine, the queen put in as she held out her hand for Deirdre to kiss. “It seems that Garret has outdone himself in finding you, dear.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” Deirdre answered hesitantly after kissing the offered hand. “I had never considered myself to be anything extraordinary up to now.”

“Such is the way of true beauty.” The queen responded with a smile. “I pray you, dear. Do your best to make Garret happy. He is greatly favored here and deserves the happiness you can bring him.”

“I hear you, my queen.” Deirdre answered with a little sigh while thinking that he was getting in deeper and deeper with this masquerade. “I will do my poor best with that.”

“I know you will, dear.” Evaine smiled while taking Deirdre’ s hand in one of hers. “Sir Garret of Chalmnessa! Come forward and join us.”

Garret ascended the steps, bowed to the monarchs then awaited what would come.

Evaine took one of his hands and placed it on Deirdre’s, waiting until he grasped the delicate hand he had been given.

“I am happy to announce the betrothal of Sir Garret of Chalmness to the Lady Deirdre Hawthorne on this day. Let all in attendance share the loving couple’s joy on this occasion.”

Joy was something that Deirdre didn’t feel at the moment, shocked by the queen’s pronouncement and working to get his head around the idea that he was now betrothed to a knight of the realm. Which made him a defacto lady whether he wished that or not.
Garret gave him a loving look, the gently raised Deirdre’s chin and face to look directly at him and planted a long, slow kiss on his betrothed’s painted lips to the cheers and raucous comments of those assembled.

Deirdre tried to avoid that, but only found himself enveloped in the man’s embrace and meeting his lips for the kiss. Worse, he actually felt weak kneed as it happened, and no matter how he protested, that weakness wasn’t because of revulsion. He found himself returning the kiss to the approval of the gathering.

“I’m kissing a MAN!” He frantically thought as the act was going on. “And liking it!”

“You two.” Cedric interrupted the chaotic, worried thoughts of Deirdre. “Are expected in a private audience. You know where to go, Sir Garret. I trust you can guide your lady to our privy chambers.”

“Of course, my King.” Garret bowed again. “We will await your presence. As well as yours, my queen.”

With a nudge from Garret, Deirdre curtsied again. “I will be honored at having a private audience with your majesties.”

“You have a keeper here, Garret.” Cedric quietly told the knight with dancing eyes. “She is magnificent.”

“I am happy that you approve, my King.” Garret answered just as quietly while gently nudging Deirdre again.

The stunned boy in women’s clothing responded by giving another graceful curtsey, and lowering his head. “I am honored that you find my poor self adequate for Sir Garret, your majesty.”

“Well said.” Evaine answered with a small grin. “Though you are far beyond being merely adequate, my dear. You are positively enchanting. I’ll look forward to getting to know you better during the year of your betrothal.”

“As I will look forward to that.” Deirdre answered past the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him.

“Well enough.” The queen replied with a smile. “I am certain we will share many fine conversations in the coming year and beyond, dear.”

“You do me too much honor, my queen.” Deirdre softly answered while wishing that the monarchs had laughed and dismissed him as nothing more than a boy in a dress.

“Sir Garret’s chosen lady.” The queen shattered that faint hope with her response. “Deserves all the honors either I or my husband can bestow.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” Deirdre managed to answer with the welter of emotions and absolute fear for his manhood threatening to overwhelm him. “I will always treasure your good will, for myself and for my intended.”

Now where in the Nine Hells did THAT come from? Deirdre wondered at his flowery response and calling Garret his intended with connotations of a future marriage that he had no real intention of letting come to pass. Maybe that Lady’s Ease hasn’t entirely gotten out of my system?

Whether it had or not was a moot point by then. Derek, now Deirdre had committed himself and knew there was no backing out now. Regardless of how he really felt about the situation he found himself in.

* * * *

“Welcome, Lady, sir knight.” Cedric greeted the pair as he and Evaine entered the small, comfortable room they used for private meetings. “I trust you have been shown the proper hospitality?”

“We have your majesty.” Garret answered as he cast an amused look at Deirdre. “Though I fear my lady has partaken of the offered wine a bit heavily.”

“Understandable under the circumstances.” Cedric chuckled as Harald, the court mage entered with a smirk on his wrinkled face. “Being presented formally to the King and Queen is one thing, but a private audience is something altogether different isn’t it, my dear?”

Deirdre swallowed as he realized that question had been directed at him. “Yes, your majesty, it is more than a little daunting.”

“No need to fear us, my dear.” Evaine put in with a smile. “You have quite charmed us already.”

Derek as Deirdre took another not so lady-like sip of the wine in his cup and gave everyone in the room a look that a hunted animal gives its pursuers. “But you don’t understand, your majesties…”

“Understand exactly what, dear?” Evaine questioned gently.

“I’m a — a boy!” He nearly shouted in frustration. “I’m no lady, never have been, never will be! I’m a male!”

“Details, details.” Harald shrugged. “Don’t worry your pretty head about that, my lady.”

The monarchs regarded him with something akin to loving amusement and commiseration from the queen. Cedric simply nodded then shrugged. Evaine moved forward to enfold Deirdre in a hug.

“Such things are not unheard of, dear child.” She assured him. “Especially when the possible fate of a kingdom balances on them. Rest easy with knowing that we not only are aware of that uncomfortable fact, but approve of what you are doing. It is a hard, but necessary thing you are facing, my lady. But it is one you must choose to accept without reservation here and now. If you demure, we will think no less of you, and you may leave in any fashion and attire you desire.”

“I appreciate that, your majesty.” Deirdre answered slowly then shook his head. “But I’ve been hearing similar things since Sir Garret first offered me the hilt of his sword.”

“All were pledges made in good faith, dear.” Cedric answered. “As my wife has said, you can decline this task and none of us will think the less of you. Giving up your manhood is a great price to pay for even the good of the kingdom. None of us here will try to force you into acceptance.”

Deirdre let out a sigh then nodded in acceptance of that. “All right. I know when I’m outnumbered here. I’ll do it. I’ve already said that, and won’t go back on my word, your majesties. Is that enough for you at the moment?”

“More than enough, dear.” Evaine answered with a wide smile. “You may have been common born, but possess more nobility than many born to the titles they hold.”

“Right.” Deirdre muttered to himself then took another pull from the cup of wine in his delicate hand before glancing at Garret. “Well, my betrothed, do you think your parents will approve of this match?”

“They will be overjoyed, my lady.” Garret answered quietly. “As I am.”

“How did I get myself into this?” Derek gave up on that name forever as he asked that question.

“Events move, people respond to them.” Evaine answered quietly. “You were clearly meant to be Garret’s lady, that is clear enough to even a blind person, my dear. Now comes the hard part. Teaching you to be that lady.”

“Oh joy.” Deirdre muttered then curtsied to her King and Queen. “I live to serve your majesties.”

“Serve yourself, dear.” Evaine answered with a slow smile. “That will be quite sufficient, I assure you.”

“In doing that you will serve us quite admirably.” Cedric put in.

“Now that the big issues have been taken care of, your majesties, my lord and lady.” Harald spoke without the diffidence one would expect from a vassal speaking to his lieges. “I can help the lady become more comfortable with her new role, if all will permit that.”

“Why not?” Deirdre answered with a shrug. “I’ve gone this far. What else can happen to me?”

“Oh, quite a lot, my lady.” The mage responded with a tight smile.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Deirdre snorted then took another long drink of her wine. Noting that the cup was empty, she held it out with an entreating look. “Refill, please? I think I’m going to need it here.”

“You may at that, dear.” Evaine laughed as she herself poured more wine into the cup. “Just don’t make a habit of it, if you please.”

“Special occasion.” Deirdre grumped then took another long swallow.

“Aye, that it is, lady.” Harald answered. “I’ll be visiting you in your chambers later this evening. Do try to be at least partially sober when I do so, would you?”

“There isn’t enough wine in the world.” Deirdre sighed. “To get me drunk this evening. Trust me.”

That was met with general laughter as he took another drink and grimaced. That expression faded into rueful humor as Deirdre noted the amusement of those around him. “This is going to take a LOT of getting used to, you know.”

“I’ll be sure to help you all I can.” Evaine told the new lady with a grin.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Deirdre answered quietly. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“Like having a tooth pulled at the moment, I’m sure.” The queen chuckled. “But you’ll get into all the details of being a proper lady soon enough, I can assure you.”

“Hooray.” Deirdre stared into her wine cup for a moment then looked up. “I’ll do my best to learn all those details, your majesty.”

“I know you will, dear.” Evaine patted Deirdre’s cheek affectionately. “You were born for this after all.”

“I won’t argue with you about that, your majesty.” Deirdre quietly replied. “But forgive my saying I’ll believe that when I bed sir Garret willingly.”

“Oh, I’m certain that too will come.” Evaine grinned. “What woman can refuse the man she loves, after all?”

“I’ m not a woman, your majesty, no matter how I appear, dress or will deport myself in the future. That won’t change, you know.”

“Yes you are.” Cedric interrupted. “At least according to this royal decree I’ve just drawn up. I’ll have the proper seals and annotations added later.”

Deirdre numbly accepted the parchment and read what was on it out loud.

“By royal decree, the person once known as Derek Hawthorne, now the lady Deirdre Hawthorne of the city Jahlmar, is now and forever to be considered a woman and lady with all the rights, privileges and duties of such from this day on. Signed, sealed, and sworn on this day.

“Cedric of the Kerian line, Regis and Lord of the Realm.”

“Well, your majesty.” Deirdre handed the parchment back with shaking hand. “I guess that’s it, isn’t it?”

“Only the beginning, my dear.” Cedric answered. “Only the beginning. Now, my wife and I have taken up enough of you and your gentleman’s time for today. I look forward greatly to having your presence brighten our court.”

“Thank you your majesty, and your majesty.” Deirdre curtsied again, wondering if she would ever really get the hang of doing that without being in danger of tripping over her own skirts.

She, she! Allowed Garret to take her arm and gently lead her out of the royal presences.

“What have I gotten myself into here, Garret?” Deirdre plaintively questioned as they made their way down the hall away from the throne room.

“Into my loving embrace, hopefully.” Garret responded while pulling the newly proclaimed lady close to him.

“You know what I mean.” Deirdre punched the man’s shoulder and grimaced when that only seemed to amuse him. “I’m no lady and you know it as well as I do.”

“That can be learned, my love.” The knight shrugged then grinned. “At least now you are officially the proper gender for the task.”

“On a piece of parchment!” Deirdre countered with a shake of her head. “Not where it counts. By birth and what rests between my legs I’m not.”

“You would go against a royal decree?” Garret questioned with a small frown that changed into another grin. “I doubt that even you would do that, my love.”

“So who am I to argue with that? Though I admittedly thought about doing just that.” Deirdre closed her eyes and shook her head in exasperation. “But everyone close to me is pushing, guiding, or dragging me by the ear into being your lady love. So, why waste time arguing at this point? Let alone trying to do that with someone as determined as my newly betrothed is about the matter.”

“Things will be fine, you’ll see.” Garret assured.

“Sure they will.” Deirdre acidly replied. “This is what I’ve always dreamed of being. Some sweet little princess being carried off by her shining knight.”

“Sarcasm does not become you, dearest.” Garret responded quietly.

“Me? Sarcastic?” Deirdre widened her eyes in mock innocence. “Surely not!”

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Five
 By Maggie Finson
 
A Small Gathering and Some Revelations

or, I May be Tipsy, but I’m NOT Stupid

 

Ilene and Katrina were waiting for Deirdre in the chambers assigned to the new lady with pleased smiles on their faces. Deirdre ignored those for a while as she — another jolt, but a description of gender that the youth would have to get used to even in thinking about — herself, stared in near awe at their surroundings.

The room they were in was huge, almost cavernous in comparison to the hut Derek had called home for most of his young life. Oil lamps (No torches allowed above ground in the palace itself Deirdre found out later) candelabras, and a massive chandelier gave the place a warm glow while providing enough light to actually read by even in the middle of the night.

“This is — is beautiful!” She breathed while observing the richly woven tapestries, paintings, elegant furnishings and statuary decorating the place. “I’m supposed to live here? Where do I sleep, I don’t see a bed here.”

“Silly girl.” Ilene smirked. “You don’t sleep here. This is your receiving room. You entertain guests in this room. Your bedchamber, robing rooms, and private bath are through there.”

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” Deirdre gave his sister (the one time boy was having no little difficulty with getting his head around the fact that he was now officially a she) a suspicious look.

“Not at all, my darling.” Garret answered with a grin. “I have it on quite good authority from my cousin, that these chambers are to be yours whenever you are at the palace, and will be held ready for your presence when you are elsewhere.”

“Your cousin.” Deirdre answered faintly while nodding. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t that be the Queen herself?”

“Yes.” Garret responded almost smugly. “Evaine is the daughter of my father’s oldest sister.”

“Derek, I mean Deirdre!” Ilene joined the conversation. “You have got to see your bedchamber!”

“Could I just get sick now and have done with it?” Deirdre questioned as her stomach lurched in response to the richness and femininity of the room she was already in.

“You’d ruin the carpet, dear child.” Katrina answered with a smirk. “It is also considered ill manners to throw up on the furniture, by the way.”

“Oh, that’s all right.” Deirdre answered distantly as she pointed to a large pot that held what looked like a small tree. “I’ll just fertilize that tree over there and no one will be the wiser.”

“Until the poor tree dies.” Another voice entered the conversation as Jessica entered the room wearing a grin that failed to appear lady-like at all. “Listen to the voice of experience here and make use of the chamber pot in your bedchambers. It won’t kill anything, and the servants will take care of getting rid of the mess.”

“You’re taking all the fun out of this.” Deirdre gave Jessica a dark look then widened her eyes and tilted her head in question. “Servants?”

“Of course.” Jessica shrugged. “The intended of my brother gets nothing but the best here, after all. You have a Major Domo, a ladies maid, maids to see to your own needs and those of your guests, and guards to protect you.”

“Major Domo?” Deirdre questioned weakly.

“Butler.” Ilene helpfully supplied. “A man to oversee the women who see to your comfort and formally greet any guests you may choose to entertain.”

“I know what a major domo is, thank you.” Deirdre favored her sister with a glower.

“Speaking of…” Ilene grinned. “Here he is.”

A very distinguished looking older man approached Deirdre and bowed deeply. Only a few strands of grey marred his immaculate chestnut hair as he bowed. “My lady, I am Aevestos, your major domo. Please forgive my absence when you arrived. I was going over a few things with your maids.”

“Aevestos.” Deirdre managed to give the man a nod. “Consider yourself forgiven. I didn’t even know I had a major domo until just before you arrived.”

“Not having one would be very improper.” The man responded with a little sigh. “I do regret that I was not present to greet you personally on your entrance. I assure you it will not happen again, M’lady.”

“That’s all right, Aevestos.” Deirdre answered. “Truthfully, I didn’t even know I was coming here until my betrothed dragged me in.”

“Very good, M’lady.” The man replied carefully, working manfully to suppress a fatalistic shrug and another sigh. “I will endeavor to serve you well from this point forward. May I get you and your companions refreshment?”

“What do you have?” Deirdre asked.

“You have wine, a selection of fresh fruits, the option of a full meal in as many courses as you desire though that will take some time to prepare if you wish that, and a very fine sherbet from the Lailiene mountains that has been specially packed in snow to keep it cold on the journey here.”

“Wine.” Deirdre answered dreamily then gave the man a direct look. “Do you have anything stronger?”

“Several rather fine brandies, M’lady.” He responded with obvious disapproval. “All you need do is command me and you will be provided.”

“Apricot brandy?” Deirdre questioned with a glint in her deep blue eyes. She recalled an occasion when Derek had sampled a bottle of that liquer then winced at the memory of how the boy she used to be wanted to die the next morning. “Never mind. Just bring us a wine appropriate for the occasion, if you would.”

“Very good, M’lady.” Aevestos answered then silently left the room.

Wine was brought into the room, a light, straw colored beverage redolent of spring flowers, along with small sandwiches on silver tray circulated by several young ladies that had to be the maids assigned to see that her needs were met.

Deirdre gave Ilene and Jessica a conspirational look and whispered a question. “Share of bottle or two of that brandy with me later?”

* * * *

They were on the third bottle of brandy, and feeling as if the world held nothing they couldn’t accomplish when Harald made his promised appearance.

Aevestos knocked then entered the receiving room quietly. “M’lady, you have guest.”

“A guest?” Deirdre giggled then covered her mouth, embarrassed at having such a girlish sound emerge from her mouth. “Who would that be, Ave… Ave… Vestos?”

“Harald, the court mage.” That worthy answered rather primly while barely concealing his disapproval of the four inebriated ladies he was watching. “He bids me tell you that you were informed of this visit earlier.”

“Oh, of course.” Deirdre nodded, vaguely recalling that from the whirlwind of the past day then peered at Aevestos. “Isn’t a bit late for someone to visit a lady?”

“Not at all, M’lady.” The man returned imperturbably. “The court mage goes where he will, when he will. We lesser mortals simply do our best to accommodate his whims.”

“Is that so?” Deirdre sighed in a put upon manner. “Well, by all means, show the man in.”

“He requires a private audience, M’lady.”

“Private?” Deirdre looked at her drinking buddies, then around the room as she wrinkled her brow. “Where would we do that?”

“He suggests your robing room, M’lady.” The man responded with a roll of his eyes. “He awaits you there.”

“Fine.” Deirdre nodded then gave him a curious look. “And where, pray tell, exactly is my robing room?”

“If you’ll follow me, M’lady.” Aevestos let out a quiet sigh while thinking this particular assignment was going to be more than simply a bit interesting and moved towards the door leading to the apartment’s bedchamber. “I’ll take you there.”

* * * *

Following a brief pause when Deirdre gaped in disbelief at that room meant for sleeping, and especially at a bed larger than the small room she had used as Derek, the major domo delicately cleared his throat to attract his new charge’s attention and gestured to another door when her wandering gaze fell at least momentarily on him. “This way, M’lady.”

“Oh, right... Harald.” She nodded wisely, and followed him.

* * * *

“This shouldn’t be possible.” Harald tugged at his graying beard in frustration after his third attempt to cast the spell on his hostess.

“What?” Deirdre questioned, then hiccoughed. “Oops, sorry.”

“Here.” The man answered, offering a crystal vial containing a murky liquid. “Drink this.”

“Is it alcoholic?” The swaying lady questioned hopefully.

“Would you mind too much if I asked you to sit down?” Harald asked with a frown. “Then to drink all of the potion?”

“Why?” Deirdre questioned innocently as she fell rather ungracefully onto a nearby couch and gingerly accepted the vial then put it to her lips. “I don’t taste anything, Harald.”

“Umm, you might want to try taking the cork out, M’lady.”

“Oh.” Deirdre did so with a sheepish little grin. “Right.”

Harald watched as she tipped the contents of the vial into the light and gave it and him a suspicious look. He gestured for her to drink the stuff. “Go on, it won’t hurt you, and you’ll thank me for it in the morning.”

“Oh, all right.” She grumped, tilting the opened vial and pouring the contents down her throat. Moments later she blinked, shook her head and glared at the mage. “Do you have any idea of how long it took me to get drunk enough to stop worrying about my situation? All that effort gone for nothing.”

He actually returned her half way mournful expression with a thin smile. “Then I take it you’re sober again, M’lady?”

“I think so.” Deirdre let out a long sigh and moved her head experimentally. “Well, the room doesn’t dance around when I move my head now.”
“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Harald nodded. “Simply put, I needed you sober to understand what I’m going to tell you right now. “You have my full attention, sir mage.”

“Good.” Harald seated himself and shook his head. “First, it is unseemly for a lady of quality to be drinking like a dockside stevedore on payday night.”

“Who ever accused me of being a lady?” She shrugged then sighed. “At least before today, anyway. And what quality? I’m about as refined as a raw bale of cotton arriving at the mill.”

“A fact that hasn’t escaped my notice.” Harald chuckled . “But that isn’t the major point I mean to discuss with you here. When I examined you during the apprenticeship trials I told you there was no capacity for magic in you. Evidently, I was wrong.”

“What?” Deirdre raised her eyebrows. “Just what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said, M’lady.” The mage answered with a rueful grimace. “I’ve tried the same spell in different variations on you three times, and each time it has had no effect on you at all.”

“What spell?” Deirdre questioned quietly, with a frightened glint in her ice blue eyes.

“Merely a working to make you more comfortable with your present predicament, dear.” Harald assured the newly made lady with a sigh. “Something to help you accept your new role without all the fuss and bother you seem determined to inflict upon everyone near you.”

“Well it didn’t work.” Deirdre agreed. “I’m still bothered, and am about to start fussing about things again if you don’t get to the real point of this.”

“You appear to be a magical null.” The mage answered then shook his head. “Which should be impossible, no one is immune to magic. But I couldn’t get a simple and largely benign spell to work on you, and I am not accustomed to failure in my workings.”

“Immune to magic.” Deirdre idly pushed a loose strand of hair off a slim shoulder and nodded. “That could be useful.”

“At times, yes.” Harald replied then shook his head again. “But it could also be quite a handicap for you, one with serious repercussions under some circumstances. As when you might require a healing, or a simple charm for protection against mundane nuisances. If a healer or mage is unable to use magic on you an injury could take a long time to heal, or even become fatal under some circumstances.”

“Oh. I see what you mean.” Pursing her lips thoughtfully, the boy-girl nodded soberly. “That would be a problem wouldn’t it?”

“To say the least, M’lady.” The mage answered then went on. “But I don’t believe you are a magical null. What I think here is that you have a natural shield of some sort that protects you from tampering by magic. One of the more powerful ones I’ve ever run across.”

“If that is true, I am still unaware of this shield, so what would the difference be in my case?”

“If it is a shield, you should be able to let it down when needed. With practice at any rate.”

“Practice.” Deirdre echoed with a frown. “What kind of practice?”

“I need for you to undress.” Harald answered. “Completely, even that padding you are wearing to fake a feminine form right now.”

“All right, but why?” Deirdre questioned as she began to get her clothing off. “Can't you just get me undressed with your magic?”

Harald gave her long look, sighed, and rolled his eyes. “No, I won't waste magic doing something you are quite able to accomplish without it. Now get on with it, m'lady, I think something you are wearing may be helping whatever is interfering with my magics, and to be sure I need to have you disrobe completely in my presence so I can find which thing is doing that.”

“All right, a little help here, please?” Deirdre asked after a third try at undoing the laces at the back of her dress accompanied by more than a few unladylike curses. “I can’t quite reach this myself.”

“Then please turn around, my Lady.” Harald answered without expression. “I don’t believe my reaching around you from the front would be considered seemly, even under the present circumstances.”

“Oh. Right.” Deirdre nodded with a blush while her brain brought forth an image of her being hugged by the old man. She turned to present the recalcitrant laces to him without complaint. “There you are sir.”

Grumbling something under his breath that sounded like “And this one claims she isn’t a woman!” The mage undid the laces at Deirdre’s back then stepped away.

“Ah, here we go then.” The newest lady of the realm nodded in satisfaction as her gown slithered to the floor, quickly followed by numerous pieces of feminine finery never meant to be seen by males not intimate with the lady wearing them, and finally, the padded corset hit the floor with a thump. “Now that feels good!”

Harald gave the denuded lady a long, careful look then nodded and moved his hands while muttering words in no known language. Looking up once that was done, the mage sighed in frustration and shook his head. “Still didn’t work, damn it.”

“What?” Deirdre questioned, glorying in the lack of constraints on ‘her’ body for the first time in many hours.

“As I told you I had thought something you were wearing might have been spelled, to enhance your feminine appearance and presence and was blocking any other spell due to similarity.”

“What are you talking about?” Deirdre, not at all looking like a Deirdre at the moment questioned.

“Similar magics often block each other.” The mage answered with a penetrating look at Deirdre’s body. “That isn’t the case just now. So tell me, m’lady, have you always appeared so feminine, so soft, so lovely?”

“Feminine, soft, LOVELY?!!” Deirdre gave the mage an aghast look. “Me?!! All right.” The feminine boy, very feminine boy, admitted. “For as long as I recall, people have taken me for a girl no matter what I did to disabuse them of the notion. I know I inherited my mother’s face and bone structure, but I was never a girl, regardless of that.”

“You hadn’t reached puberty.” Harald answered quietly.

“Puberty?” Deirdre questioned with an appalled expression. “I never had that happen no matter how much I looked for it. I just never started growing hair on my face, body, or the muscle a man should have.”

“Oh, I think you’re experiencing puberty now, m’lady.” Harald stroked his short beard and shook his head before asking. “How long have you had such large nipples, and those bumps under them?”

Deirdre glanced down at his chest, then gasped and took another -- long -- look. “Not until Katrina had me pose in that gown for proper length. And just what are those bumps on my chest?”

“The beginnings of womanly breasts, m’lady.” Harald answered distractedly before he turned his full attention back to his hostess. “It would seem that your own body is making the changes that will make you appear proper in your gowns without all that padding. Tell me, is that padding uncomfortable, and how is it that way?”

“It chafes my chest, mostly.” Deirdre answered slowly, still staring at the enlarged nipples and slight rises behind them on ‘her’ chest.

“Hmm.” The man nodded with a serious look on his wrinkled face. “Interesting.”

“Interesting?” Deirdre shot back as one of her hands surreptitiously went to her chest to give one swollen pectoral a quick scratch. “What does that mean?”

“You seem to be entering puberty.” The man answered with a shrug. “But as a female.”

“How could that be?” Deirdre sounded a bit frantic as the thought penetrated her mind, along with the implications that held. “I’m NOT female!”

“Tell your body that.” Harald dryly responded then shrugged. “You have been proclaimed to be a woman in effect with His Majesty’s writ, so becoming female shouldn’t be such a stretch of imagination for you.”

“Look.” Deirdre grimaced. “Being declared a woman for political purposes is NOT the same as being female. Surely you can understand the difference there.”

“Again I say to tell your body that.” Harald returned the grimace. “I can’t explain it, but your physical form does seem to be working to conform with your legal gender.”

“I think.” Deirdre faintly replied. “I’ll deal with that later if it’s all the same to you. Now, about this magic thing with me?”

“Oh, that’s simple enough.” Harald told her with a straight face. “You seem to have a natural shield that blocks any kind of magic aimed at you.”

“A shield that can’t be broken?” Deirdre questioned as one of her hands idly scratched at her chest.

“Exactly, m’lady.”

“Then.” Deirdre drew in a breath, glanced down at her swollen chest, ran a hand over rounding hips and thinning waist then shouted. “WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? I was born a boy and raised that way. Why?!!”

“Adjusting to circumstances?” Harald offered then winced at the glare he received. “I’m a mage m’lady, not a physician. How could I hope to answer a question that magic had nothing to do with?”

“How can this NOT be magic?!!” Deirdre almost shouted while gesturing at her body that now appeared to be working towards a female form instead of the male it had been for years.

“Calm down, m’lady.” Harald winced and made a gentle, placating gesture then settled back to endure the diatribe that he was sure would follow.

“Calm down, he says.” Deirdre muttered, plopping down on a nearby couch with a heavy, put upon sigh.

“Nothing will be gained by screaming loudly enough to wake the dead in their dungeon tombs, you know.” The mage answered almost kindly. “I truly don’t know what is causing your body to change, Deirdre. I do know that it is not magic, at least not any kind I am familiar with at all, and believe me in a long and sometimes questionable career I have run across more kinds of magic than even most mages dream of.”

“You’re a lot of help.” Deirdre grumped.

“Actually, I am, dear.” Harald answered with a smile. “I have at least ascertained that it most likely isn’t magic doing this to you. I do think that we should take a physician, and possibly a priest into our confidence on this, just for their opinions on the matter. But you are undeniably developing some fetchingly feminine physical attributes, that is clear enough already. Either it is something non-magical, or you are somehow doing this to yourself.”

“Doing this to myself?” Deirdre shook her head in disbelief while continuing to scratch lightly at her chest. “I most certainly am NOT doing this to myself. Why would I ever even wish for this to happen even in my present circumstances? I liked being a boy, have no true desire to be a girl, and am definitely unprepared to become a lady no matter what His Majesty’s proclamation and my own presently available choices in clothing might say.”

“Would you please stop doing that, m’lady?” Harald asked almost plaintively as Deirdre continued scratching at her swollen pectorals and enlarged nipples.

“They itch!”

“It is very — umm — distracting.” The mage offered then questioned. “Are any other parts of your body starting to itch or feel strange?”

“Every part of my body is beginning to feel strange.” Deirdre answered grumpily. “But now that you mention it, yes. My hips and bottom are itching too.”

Harald held back a small wince as the young lady transferred her scratching to the recently mentioned parts of her anatomy.
“I thought it was just all the padding making me uncomfortable.” She supplied while vigorously applying fingernails to her bottom.

“That is most unladylike, my dear.” The mage told her then sighed as she gave him an unmistakable ‘too bad and don’t try stopping me’ look.

“I am NO lady.” Deirdre answered with a blissful expression as one hand stole back to swollen pecs and started scratching again.

“So you insist on telling everyone within range of your voice.” Harald agreed with a shake of his head. “I can provide an ointment that should help with the itching, if you like.”

“I would be extremely grateful if you could do that.” Deirdre replied.

“A moment if you will.” The man reached into his robes, muttered something in a language Deirdre had never heard, the produced a crystal flask with an ornate stopper. Handing it to her he said. “There you go. I’ll let you apply it to the uncomfortable areas if you don’t mind.”

“I’d insist if you hadn’t suggested it.” Deirdre answered as she unstopped the flask, poured some of its contents into one small hand and liberally spread it over the areas she’d been scratching. “Ahh, that is sooo much better. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, m’lady.” The mage responded with a small smile then turned serious again. “Now back to where we were, if you don’t mind?”

“Puberty.” Deirdre sighed. “Female puberty? Me?”

“So it would appear from all the evidence I’ve seen so far.”

“Damn.” Deirdre closed those ice blue eyes that were far too lovely to grace a man’s face and shook her head. “Now to try and figure out just why this is happening, I guess.”

“That would be a fine start, but if I may make a suggestion, little lady?” The mage asked.

“You’re going to whether I allow it or not, so go ahead and get it over with.” Deirdre said in a small voice.

“For now at least, why don’t you at least attempt to accept what is happening to you physically as a sign that you have made the right choices for yourself and others so far?” Holding up a hand to forestall the obvious protest his companion was starting, he went on. “Please let me finish.”

“Go on.” Deirdre nodded and in a quite eloquent gesture used one hand to close her mouth.

“It appears that the physical changes are going to occur no matter what you do, or how you may protest.” He continued. “That is regrettable for you, but unavoidable. Not to mention being rather fortunate for the present. I will tell you now that it is imperative that Garret marry soon, and you are the one he has set his heart on having. All any of us who know the truth about you ask is that you give it a chance. You might find that you actually like being a duke’s heir's and very fine knight’s lady if you did that.”

“But I can’t be his wife!” Deirdre sighed. “I do like him, a lot, and will even admit to liking all the attention he shows me, but I won’t ever be able to give him an heir to the Duchy he is going to inherit.”

“A not insurmountable difficulty, dear.” Harald answered slowly. “Far less difficult than you might think, or than the task you presently have ahead of you.”

Deirdre winced internally as she actually had admitted to enjoying Garret’s attentions, which meant things the newly proclaimed lady didn’t really feel comfortable thinking about just then. Things about the boy she had been for fifteen years, and the girl he seemed to be becoming despite any protest he might make regarding that last fact. “I don’t believe I admitted that last thing. But what do you mean giving Garret an heir isn’t insurmountable? I do not possess the necessary physical requirements for making a child with him. Which is what first drew him to me in the first place, I might add. He didn’t wish for a woman to be his lady, he wanted me.”

“Precisely so, m’lady.” Harald agreed. “But Garret is no boy lover, not in truth. Though it is true that he has cultivated that type of appearance, he labors under a prophecy that more or less impelled him to search out feminine boys.”

“A prophecy?” Deirdre let out a short laugh of disbelief. “Now I’m part of a prophecy, too?”

“So it would seem.” Harald nodded with a sigh in response to her short laugh. “It claims that Garret will find the love of his life, and his future Duchess not to mention the mother of his children, by searching among the feminine boys rather than among the eligible and nubile maidens of the kingdom. It predicts happiness and plenty if he finds that person, and untold disasters if he doesn’t, or is refused by the one, whoever that is. I believe that love in his life is you, m’lady, and if that is the case, then the transformation you are beginning now, physical, mental, emotional, and in status and station is an answer to that self-same prophecy.”

“Which means exactly what?” The feminine young male questioned nervously.

“Many things I’ve discovered in the past about prophecies come into this, m’lady.” Harald slowly replied. “It would seem that the one regarding yourself and Sir Garret is working to make certain that the best outcome it predicts is reached. That is a thing which would go a long way in explaining your seeming immunity to magic of any kind. A magic far more powerful, and ancient than I or any living mage might possess is working on you. Protecting you, and shaping you for your life to come.”

“Oh isn’t that a wonderful thought.” Deirdre grumped. “Now not only am I being herded into learning to be a proper lady despite my actual sex, I’m to be a pawn of some ancient magic. Does that just about cover the situation, sir mage?”

“Quite well, actually.” Harald agreed with a thin smile. “You are quite intelligent, dear child, and grasp things new to you with a fervor and determination to learn all you can that is really quite encouraging if you stop and think about that.”

“Do I have a choice?” Deirdre questioned tartly. “In any of this at all. Really?”

“Of course you have a choice, dear.” Harald responded quietly. “Choice is part of what this is all about. You have options open to you, and none will stop you taking any of those you might choose for yourself.”

“Meaning that I can accept all this, pretend to accept it and wait out the betrothal period then go back to some semblance of my old life, or simply walk away from the entire mess?” Deirdre questioned while giving the mage an unsettlingly direct stare that boded ill for anyone arousing the displeasure of this young person, whether she decided to become Garret’s lady in truth or not.

“Exactly so, m’lady.” He said softly. “The choices are yours to make. I only pray to the gods that you make the one which is right for you. Not for the kingdom, not for Garret, but for you. A wrong choice would leave you miserable for a long time to come, I fear. But I, nor anyone else, can make that choice for you. It is something you need to do yourself, and willingly in whatever the case may be.”

“You’ve left me with a lot to think about, you know.”

“Yes, I have, young lady.” Harald arose from his chair. “Along with some things for me to seriously consider as well. I’ll call one of your maids to assist you in getting ready for bed or to rejoin your guests. It is late, and an old man like me needs to get his sleep.”

Deirdre thoughtfully watched the door for some moments after the court mage and taken his leave. Lips pursed in a very feminine expression of deep thought that would have shocked the boy he had been, she reached for the padded garment that gave her the needed shape for her new clothing and status and got back into it before the summoned maid could arrive while quietly grumbling. “No sense in scandalizing the help any more than needed.”

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Six
 By Maggie Finson
 

On Learning to be a Lady

or, I’m stuck with it, and a deal is a deal

 

Deirdre awakened without a great deal of disorientation but a lot of trepidation as she felt the smoothness of silk both clothing and covering her.

Events of the previous few days were so completely burnt into her memories that the recently proclaimed lady sourly reflected that the images themselves would always remain brightly active in her mind no matter how long she lived.

With a groan, Deirdre pushed the silken covers off herself and gingerly sat up to note the violet silk nightgown she was wearing — sans the padding that was becoming a bit uncomfortable at times. At least the robing maid assigned to her, Bertelle, hadn’t batted so much as an eyelash when the girl had assisted her new lady out of that padding, even when catching sight of Deirdre’s so called manhood.

The bedroom, or more correctly, sleeping chambers that had been given to her were sumptuous beyond mere needs of comfort. The immense canopied bed alone was probably nearly the size of the room Derek had called his own only a few days before. Elegantly delicate furnishings of highly polished wood covered in satins, silks, and intricate brocades were spaced carefully with an eye to being available without causing a sense of clutter, heavy rose colored satin drapes covered the wide, floor to ceiling windows and were quite effective at keeping the daylight outside at bay.

Definitely a woman’s chambers. The Rose, violets, lavenders and other pastel colors of the furnishings and walls, along with a few brighter colors for accent left no doubts of that at all. Staring at her surroundings, Deirdre let out a long sigh. “I could get used to all this luxury, I suppose.”

The usual morning urges arrived, were taken care of with a minimum of fuss other than making sure the delicate silk sleeping gown was out of the way, then she stood there wondering what to do next. Bertelle’s final words of the night, or early morning before came back to her then. “When you awaken m’lady, just pull on the bell rope beside your bed and I will come.”

“Well, may as well get this farce started.” Deirdre grumbled as she walked over and gave the velvet braiding of the rope a light tug. “I don’t imagine I could get away with hiding in here all day, anyway.”

The doors to her sleeping chambers opened and a smiling Bertelle appeared with a curtsey as if she had been waiting just outside. Something the girl probably had been doing, Deirdre reflected gloomily. “Good morning, m’lady. Did you sleep well?”

“Umm, actually I did.” The lady in question answered with a smile in response to the maid’s good cheer. “I hope I haven’t slept the day away.”

“Oh, that was allowed for today, m’lady.” Bertelle grinned then pointedly went to the huge bed and retrieved a satin robe that was far less transparent than the sleeping gown then helping Deirdre get into it. “It is scarcely two hours since sunrise, so you are up and about much earlier than anticipated. Your guests are still sleeping, by the way.”

“I take it that I should always put on a robe before summoning someone in the morning?” Deirdre had gotten the hint and waved away a response before the girl could make it. “Never mind, I got it, dear. Now what?”

“A bath is in order first then we get you properly dressed for a late breakfast, m’lady.”

“I had a bath yesterday, Bertelle.” Deirdre pointed out, hoping to avoid that particular ordeal for at least a while yet.

“A proper lady bathes every day, m’lady.” The maid countered simply. “It wouldn’t do at all for unpleasant odors to be warring with your delicate perfumes, after all.”

“Every day…” Deirdre somehow knew that protesting would not deter the gently determined young woman in front of her, but gave one last valiant try. “Really? Is that necessary every day?”

“Of course it is, m’lady.” Bertelle answered simply and thus implying without rebuke that such an activity was not only necessary, but expected. “Your bath is being prepared now, please follow me and we’ll get you all cleaned up and smelling sweetly as a lady should.”

“I’m not going to get out of this, am I?”

“If you chose not to bathe, that is your right, m’lady.” The girl answered carefully, but didn’t bother to hide the disapproval the thought of that raised in her mind.

“Never mind.” Deirdre sighed. “I am in your capable hands, Bertelle. Lead on, if you please.”

“Of course, m’lady.” The girl gave another curtsey and smiled brightly before walking towards the door to the robing room. “Your bathing chamber is this way.”

* * * *

Being so pampered wasn’t a thing that the former boy was used to. Three maids were present in the bathing chamber, and diligently applied sweet smelling soaps, oils, lotions, creams, and other unnamable things — at least for Deirdre — until she emerged from the large tub for even more ministrations.

The application of all the lotions at least had the effect of easing the nearly constant itching at chest, hips, and bottom.
“All that for breakfast?” Deirdre gave the selection of garments a disbelieving look .

“It is properly simple morning attire, m’lady.” Bertelle answered imperturbably.

“I’ll have to take your word for that, I’m afraid.” Deirdre gave the mass of garments, most meant to be covered by the outer gown a frown then muttered. “I’ll never get the hang of this.”

“Don’t worry, m’lady.” Bertelle gave her a comforting pat to a slim shoulder. “In no time at all, this kind of thing will become quite normal for you, even second nature.”

“That’s what worries me.” Deirdre anwered quietly, to the amusement of the maid.

* * * *

Wearing a gown of shimmering lavender satin with only two petticoats under the split skirts, Deirdre emerged from her chambers with no idea of just how resplendent and beautiful she was.

“I can’t believe it took an hour to get me dressed in a simple outfit that’s only presentable for mornings.” She muttered to herself while giving a slightly superior grin to her obviously suffering guests. “Hung over, are we?”

“You drank more than we did.” Ilene growled while glaring at her new sister. “You should know.”

“I have connections.” Deirdre smirked then offered each of the suffering ladies a vial that Harald had left with her the night before. “Here, this will fix that.”

“You cheated.” Katrina gave her a suspicious look once the potion had taken effect.

“Harald had to remind me to remove the cork so I could drink it last night.” Deirdre chuckled. “But it does help, doesn’t it?”

Ilene said nothing but the blissful expression of relief on her young face was eloquent enough.

Jessica frowned, took a long draught of the potion and closed her eyes as it began its work. “Wow, that worked fast!”

“You should have heard the earful I gave Harald for sobering me up last night.” Deirdre grinned. “All that lovely brandy gone to waste in moments.”

“We heard some of it.” Katrina chuckled. “But then nothing more so we just assumed that once sober you and Harald had a most interesting conversation that was best left private.”

“You look quite splendid in that gown, dear.” Jessica changed the subject with a gesture at the clothing Deirdre was wearing. “It does look much better on you than it did on me, by the way.”

“Thank you, I think.” Deirdre answered with a puzzled expression on her face. “Is all that stuff in my — dressing room from you?”

“Yes.” Jessica grinned then shrugged. “I really had far too many clothes to be able to even properly store them, let alone wear them. So just thought I may as well do something nice for my new sister.”

Lifting her gown, Deirdre let out a sigh. “All this is really going to take some getting used to, you know?”

“Speaking of proper clothing.” Katrina put in. “I’ll need you at the shop to get your gown for the ball ready in time. You’ll love it, Deirdre, satins, silks, deep reds, and pure whites for contrast.”

“Red, for blood, white for virginal?” Deirdre questioned with a sidelong glance to her mentor and a shake of her head then raised a hand to forestall any response. “Never mind. I don’t think I’d like the answer anyway.”

“But it will be beautiful on you, dearest.” Katrina soothed. “Trust me on that.”

“The last time I trusted you, Sir Garret and his sister saw me wearing a dress.” Deirdre grumbled then slid one hand down her skirts.
“And this is the result. So don’t blame me if I don’t seem all that enthusiastic about that ball gown.”

“Oh, you worry too much, big sister.” Ilene grinned. “Look at things this way. How much more could possibly happen to you now? Given what has over the past day or so, I mean?”

“That’s what worries me.” Deirdre grumped in response. “With me, if something can go wrong, or turn things completely upside down, it will gleefully do so.”

The others answered that with trills of feminine laughter, and teased the newly made lady about her worries.

That was interrupted when her Major Domo entered the room with a courtly bow. “M’lady, Sir Garret requests your company for breakfast.”

“Where does Sir Garret wish to have this breakfast?” Deirdre questioned with a little sigh.

“In his chambers, I would imagine, M’lady.” Came the uninflected response, then the man added. “He awaits your pleasure outside.”

“Well.” Deirdre shook her head, got off the couch with a smooth grace that put the lie to any protest she might make about being a boy, and nodded. “Please escort me to meet him, Aevestos. Then make certain that my guests are seen to for the morning meal, if you would.”

“Of course, M’lady.” The man responded then gestured towards the door leading out of rooms into the hall. “If you would be kind enough to follow me?”

“Why do I feel like I’m being led by the nose around here?” Deirdre muttered.

Aevestos didn’t deign to answer that question, though he had heard it, and simply led his Lady to the door which he opened with a flourish. “His most honorable and just lord, Sir Garret, M’lady.”

Garret’s eyes widened appreciatively when Aevestos moved away from the door and he was able to see Deirdre fully. “Good morning, m’lady. I hope you slept well and that your chambers are satisfactory?”

“Yes I did, yes they are, and you and I need to have a long talk, Sir.” Deirdre replied with a little frown that slowly turned into a halfway reluctant smile. “I believe something was said about breakfast?”

“Of course, dear.” Garret offered his arm, and Deirdre found her own linked with the man’s and was being gently led down the hallway. “Seeing you makes getting up in the morning worth the effort, you know. You’re radiant.”

“It was the bath, and everything else that was rubbed, smoothed, and patted onto my body and face.” She said with a grimace. “I’m actually quite a grump for a while in the morning.”

His laugh in response to that was full of good humor and not teasing at all. “Oh, you should see Jessica on one of her bad mornings, I’m sure that I’ll be able to cope, my dear.”

“You’ll cope?” Came her almost tart response. “You haven’t got the first idea of what coping is, trust me on that one.”

“Oh, I think I may have more of an idea than you think.” He quietly answered then shrugged. “But we will discuss that, and other things in the privacy of my own rooms if that is all right with you?”

“That will be fine.” Deirdre nodded then sighed while thinking of some of the things Harald had told her. “You didn’t deserve that, I apologize for my outburst.”

“Quite understandable under the circumstances, dear.” Garret smiled and shook his head. “I know how I would be reacting under the circumstances you’re dealing with just now. It would not be nearly as well as you are managing so far, I can assure you.”

“Thank you. I think.” Deirdre began noticing other people in the hallways they were walking along. People who greeted the couple with bows, smiles, and a few scattered ‘good mornings’ as they passed. It seemed to the new lady that each of those people were boring holes into her with their eyes, even if they were doing so discretely. “Is it my imagination, or is everyone staring at me?”

“They admire beauty.” Garret answered with a grin. “While trying to take your measure since you are new to the palace, and my obvious choice of ladies.”

“Beauty!” Deirdre held back a derisive snort at that idea, and shook her head slightly while returning one of the many smiles she was receiving and tightened her grasp on the knight’s arm. “It feels more like a flaying from a distance at the moment.”

“I’m sure it does. They’re measuring you by what they see at the moment, dear one.” He replied while giving her hand an encouraging squeeze. “Your appearance — which is wonderful, your poise — and you appear to be quite confident and at ease with your surroundings, your bearing — quite graceful, with just the right touch of the demure, head held high, and you have that understated elegance of motion that some women never manage. In short, you look every inch of what you appear to be right now. A lovely young lady enjoying a morning stroll with her intended.”

Deirdre refrained from rolling her eyes, but did let out a little sigh of near frustrated worry. She was more of the opinion that everyone was trying to penetrate the disguise and find the boy under all that finery. “I’ll take that on faith at the moment, Sir. I’m actually much too terrified to do anything but walk right now.”

“You’re doing fine, and actually come across as very girlish and dainty just now.” He reassured her with a small laugh as if she’d said something amusing.

“Oh, that’s just what I needed to hear.” Deirdre still hadn’t completely gotten her mind around thinking of herself as a she instead of a he and suspected it would be some time before something like that would truly settle in, if at all. “I wonder if I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Of course you will, darling.” Her escort answered. “Any awkwardness you show will be taken as that of a young commoner girl suddenly raised into the nobility and most will find that quite endearing.”

“Whatever you say, dear.” Deirdre smirked then asked a question adults travelling with children had endured since people began making journeys. “Are we there yet?”

“Nearly.” Garret chuckled and patted her hand. “Another few minutes is all it will take.”

“Good, I really am hungry, you know.”

* * * *

Thankfully away from all the curious, and to Deirdre’s chagrin, envious looks from the ladies, Garret led her to a small table, held the chair for her, and gently pushed it forward so she could reach the tableware without reaching then seated himself in a chair to her left.

Once Deirdre had started to relax a bit, with an obvious sigh of relief, servants began delivering a bewildering array or fruits, steaming cereals, sweet rolls, and beverages.

“What, no wine?” She questioned with a smirk while eyeing the beverage offerings with more than a little suspicion and pointing to one in particular. “What is that?”

Garrret looked at the steaming black brew and grinned. “Caff. It’s really quite invigorating.”

“It smells like burnt beans.” Wrinkling her nose she gave him a challenging look.

“Not burnt, roasted then ground.” Garret responded after taking an appreciative sip from the cup of the noxious stuff he had. “The panacea for those of us who are morning impaired, my love. Try it.”

Giving the almost noxious smelling brew a doubtful look, Deirdre very carefully raised the cup, took a sip, and almost threw the cup across the room. “Gah! That’s horrible! How can you drink this stuff?”

“Well.” Garret admitted with a mischievous grin. “It is kind of an acquired taste.”

Very carefully setting the cup full of steaming, black liquid back on the table, she gave him a thin smile. “I noticed. Would you happen to have provided tea for this intimate little breakfast?”

“Sarcasm again.” Garret chuckled then waved to a servant to bring a fresh cup and a pot of fragrant morning tea. As the servant poured the tea Garret grinned again. “I knew I’d have fun with you around, dear. Is that more to your liking?”

“Much better.” Deirdre nodded with a momentary glare at him. “Now stop picking on me, I have more than enough problems to deal with as it is without my ‘boyfriend’ teasing me.”

“I am your betrothed, darling.” He drawled with a lift of one eyebrow. “I am allowed to tease you. It’s in the rules somewhere.”

“Show me those rules, my love.” Deirdre growled, but to her embarrassment, it sounded more like a purr.

“They’re unwritten, love.” Garret answered with a smug look.

“Then write them out for me.” Deirdre replied while giving him the gimlet ‘You are in soo much trouble’ look that women always give their men. “I’ll wait.”

“Give me a few weeks, and I’ll find them for you.” He chuckled.

“Right, while hoping I’ll forget that I asked you.” She grumbled, then laughed. “Why do I like you so much, Garret?”

“Oh, my winning personality, maybe?” He innocently asked.

“Hold still.” Deirdre told him. “While I aim this pot at your head.”

“I love you, too, dear.”

“Just how much trouble could I get into for killing a Lord to be of the Realm?” She questioned.

“Oh, lots.” Garret responded with another infuriating grin. “But do you really want to kill me, darling?”

“WILL you please STOP calling me that?!!”

“But you are my darling, love.” Garret responded without flinching. “I have waited all my life for you.”

“Okay. I give up.” Deirdre sighed. “Let’s change the subject, shall we?”

“To whatever you wish to talk about, dear.” He answered with the smug grin that told her that he had her whether she wanted it or not.

“Stop that!”

“What?”

“Making me feel as if it’s preordained that you and I will get married! That’s what!” Deirdre almost screamed.

“Calm down, darling.” Garret soothed. “You can’t fight fate, after all.”

“FATE?!!” Drawing in a long, slow, calming breath, Deirdre glared at her intended. “What in the NINE HELLS does that have to do with what’s happening to me?”

“Can’t fight it.” He calmly answered then nuzzled her neck. “Just enjoy it, dear. I plan to do that.”

“Easy for you to say.” She retorted. “You aren’t growing… Breasts!”

“I noticed.” He grinned.

“Can I get away with slapping you?”

“In private, yes.”

*WHAP!!!*

“Ow!” rubbing his jaw, Garret shook his head. “You are going to be a handful, m’lady.”

“I’m so glad you approve.” She smiled.

“So who wants a boring wife?” He grinned.

“All right, enough of the little love chats.” Deirdre glowered at him. “We need to talk about a few things here.”

“Indeed we do.”

“To begin with.” She pointed a finger at him . “What do you know about a certain prophecy?”

“which one?” Giving her an innocent look, he shrugged. “There are a lot of prophesies floating around, you know.”

Deirdre wanted to grab him by the throat and shake him. “The one about you and me, dimwit!”

“Oh, that one.”

“Yes! That one!” She almost grabbed him by the throat. “Tell me!”

“Well, it has to do with the love of my life.”

“And that’s supposed to be me?!!”

“Evidently.” He shrugged. “I didn’t write the damned thing, after all.”

“Details!”

“Oh, those.”

“Yes, THOSE!”

“Look, honestly.” He told her. “All it said was I would find the love of my life, and my ultimate foil, among the boys. You think it’s been easy paying attention to scrawny boys all my life?”

“You think it’s easy being the boy you found?” She shot back. “Do you know I’m growing t… umm.. breasts?”

“I did notice.” He answered with a grin. “I like it.”

“You would.” She grumbled. “But I’m not supposed to be doing that! I’m a boy. Why, why, am I going through the same kind of puberty my sister did?!!”

“Because you love me?”

“Don’t push your luck, bucko.” Deirdre sighed. “I’m still getting used to this girl thing, after all. Being in love with a man? I am definitely NOT ready for that one.”

“I’ll love you anyway.”

“Oh, thanks.” She answered a little acerbically. “If it means anything, that does help, I suppose.”

“That’s a start.” He told her.

“Doomed, I’m doomed!” She muttered. “Do you have the least idea of what I’m going through just now?”

“No.” He admitted then reached across the table to take her hand. “But I do know that you are the one meant for me, and I am meant for you.”

“Yeah, I have that one figured out.” Deirdre grimaced. “But what do we do with that? I can’t bear your children, after all. I don’t have the necessary equipment to do that.”

“Things change.” He shrugged. “If you can’t do that, you can’t. I’ll still love you.”

“You’re running me into a corner here, do you know that?”

“All according to plan, dearest.”

“WILL you please stop calling me that?!!” She almost screamed.

“All right.” He gave a negligent shrug. “Would you accept me calling you darling?”

“I give up.” Deirdre shook her head. “Can we change the subject here?”

“We need to.” He agreed.

“What?” Giving the man a long searching look, she continued the question. “What else could go wrong here?”

“Well, you recall when I told you about my unsavory cousin?”

“Yes, and what does that have to do with the present situation?” Deirdre Demanded.

“Simply put.” Garret told her. “There is a faction that would back my cousin for the seat of Chalmnessa. And the presence of a chosen lady for me is a very real threat to those ambitions. You are in some danger because of the situation, I fear.”

“Danger?” Deirdre questioned. “Please give me more information on that.”

“Simply be aware of all that is around you, my love.” He answered. “There are people who would either imprison you for life or kill you just to keep you from being my bride.”

“Which one is worse?” Deirdre muttered then gave Garret a glare that would have flayed the flesh from a weaker individual.

“Just be on your guard, m’lady.” He answered.

“Oh, I will be.”

“Good.” He answered. “That is all I ask. I cannot protect you all the time so you must work at protecting yourself.”

“I get the feeling I should be worried here.” Deirdre muttered.

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Seven
 By Maggie Finson
 
False Smiles

or, That dirty, double dealing, two faced, four flushing…

 

False Smiles

Or: That dirty, double dealing, two faced, four flushing…

“OWW!!! That was my leg!”

“If you’d hold still and stop fidgeting…” Katrina muttered through a mouthfull of pins. “You wouldn’t get stuck while I get this hem pinned up. I’ll never get this Gown properly fitted if you insist on jumping around like that.”

“I’m not jumping around!” Deirdre shot back. “I itch all over. You try holding perfectly still while invisible ants gleefully play tag on every inch of skin you have!”

“I’d noticed some development in certain places.” The dressmaker nodded. “Did Harald give you something to enhance your feminine appearance? That would explain the itching.”

“No. Not that he didn’t try a few things, though.” The other grumbled. “He told me that my body was changing all by itself.”

“Really? I wonder how that could be?” The dressmaker mused while giving her former apprentice a longer looking over then shrugging. “But I’m no physician, or mage to make any attempt at figuring that one out. Have you seen the court physicians about it?”

“Two of them, yesterday.” Deirdre shuddered at memory of standing naked in front of two men who poked, prodded, and squeezed a lot more than she’d really thought necessary and in places that were extremely embarrassing. “They can’t figure it out either. All they could tell me was that there have been rare cases of boys developing like girls and the other way around. They believe that I’m one of those.”

“Well, you always were more delicate and feminine in appearance than was really good for you, or any boy.” Katrina sighed and gave the apparent young woman in front of her a little smile. “That may be what it is, after all. Now again, stop fidgeting while I finish these alterations, all girls put up with itching up there when they develop. There are salves and lotions to ease that. I could get you some.”

“Got some of that, thanks.” Deirdre answered with a grimace. “Harald and the physicians all gave me some. Damned prophecy, anyway.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” Concentrating on holding still, Sir Garret’s new lady snorted. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Whatever, dear.” Mumbling through a mouthful of pins, Katrina waved one of her other apprentices — female, and who had been conspicuously absent up until recently, to hold out part of the skirts on the gown Deirdre was being fitted for.

“I can’t believe I’m standing her getting fitted for a gown to wear to the Royal Grand Ball.” Closing her eyes and grimacing, Deirdre shook her head, careful not to move the lower part of her body. “If anyone had even teased me about that a few weeks ago I would have…”

“What’s that, dear?” Katrina questioned.

“Nothing, just muttering.”

“Well get that scowl off your face.” The dressmaker ordered. “This isn’t that much of an ordeal, after all. Women go through this all the time.”

“So I’ve been told. Repeatedly. And about a lot of things besides a dress fitting.” The raven tressed beauty grumbled. “At least I don’t have to deal with ‘that time of the month’. At least not yet.”

“The way you’re already developing,” Katrina answered absently. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up about avoiding that particular joy of womanhood, either if I were you.”

“You are not helping here.” Deirdre shot back with widened eyes and a look of horror on her face.

“Well, dear.” Katrina lightly patted the former boy’s bottom then slid her hand over one of the lady’s hips and gestured at the growing breasts encased in the satins and silks of the gown and its underpinnings. “You’re expanding in those places and shrinking in others already.”

“You mean my waist?” Deirdre questioned with another grimace. “It’s the corsets. I can’t eat a decent amount of food with those devilish things squeezing my stomach like a blacksmith’s vise!”

“Yes, dear, I know all about corsets.” The dressmaker nodded then sighed. “No I meant you seem to be shrinking in another place a bit lower than your waist. Hadn’t you noticed?”

“Noticed?” Deirdre squeaked in dismay. “How was I going to check when the only times I’m completely undressed, there are maids around? I have to keep those things carefully hidden away.”

“Oh, well it may just be your wider hips and bigger bottom making them seem smaller.” Katrina offered consolingly.

“The way things have been going for me recently? I really doubt that.” Deirdre almost screeched. “And how can you be so, so — calm about it?!! That’s my manhood we’re discussing here and it’s getting smaller?”

“Manhood?” Katrina gave the young beauty in front of her an exasperated look that changed to one of sympathy. “Deirdre, in case you haven’t been paying attention to things recently, there really isn’t much of that left to you, far as that goes anyway.”

“Like I hadn’t noticed already.” She shot back almost defensively then let out a long sigh of near frustration. “Not that anyone around me is doing anything to salvage even a little of that lately. Oh, noooo. All I hear is ladies don’t do this, or a lady always does it this way, or…”

“Are you just catching your breath, or have you run out of tirade?” Katrina asked with a tilt of her head and a small smile. “Do feel free to rant and rave all you like here, but try and remember that there isn’t much to be done about that right now, is there?”

“Uh, I think I’m finished now.” Deirdre blushed down to her neck. “Sorry.”

“That’s all right dear.” Katrina gave the other’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “This has to be rather unnerving for you, and something that’s taking a lot of adjustments. I shouldn’t tease you about it, or berate you for letting out your frustrations among friends.”

“Unnerving…” Deirdre played with a strand of thick, dark hair that had fallen into her face. “Well, I hadn’t really called it that. A lot of my descriptions fall into that ‘ladies don’t say that kind of things’ category to be honest.”

“Understandable dear.” Katrina chuckled, then waved her new apprentice forward. “I think the fireworks are over, Raella. Come help me hold this part while I sew it.”

“I'm done fussing, Raella.” Deirdre assured the girl then rolled her eyes. “I think.”

“How is life at the palace?” Katrina changed the subject with a warning look to her former apprentice.

“Uh, interesting is a word that comes to mind.” Deirdre answered with a shrug. “Different than I’m used to, if that helps.”

“Well, you’ve been there two weeks.” Katrina answered then asked. “Are you getting used to it yet?”

“I still shout in my bedroom, bed chambers — sorry — to hear the echoes, if that tells you anything. I know I amuse my maids and major domo when I do that. Garret thinks it’s hilarious.”

“Just don’t yodel.” Katrina advised. “People tend to throw things when someone does that indoors.”

“Yodeling.” Deirdre got a thoughtful look on her face. “I never thought of that one.”

“You wouldn’t!?” Katrina gasped then hid a giggle behind her hand.

“I might.” Deirdre shrugged then winced as a pin found her leg. “I know, I know, hold very, very still. And if that was a warning about yodeling, I get the hint already.”

“Good.” Katrina nodded in satisfaction then gave Raella an exasperated look. “Oh, come on girl. Don’t goggle and gasp at everything we say here. Deirdre is a most unconventional lady, and for some reason I don’t see that rather endearing trait as one that will fade with time. Probably why Sir Garret loves her.”

“I — I had noticed, Katrina, M’lady.” The girl responded timidly.

“Raella, trust me on this one.” Deirdre stage whispered. “You should have heard the dressing downs I got when I was her apprentice. For that matter, I still get them from her. You aren’t alone there, dear girl.”

“Oh, she’ll get used to me.” Katrina assured them both.

“I never did, and I’ve known you all my life.” Deirdre countered.

“It isn’t nice, frightening your dressmaker’s apprentice. I could ‘accidentally’ leave a pin or two in some sensitive areas once this gown is finished, you know.”

“Ouch.” Deirdre winced. “All right. How’s this then? Raella, you will get used to Katrina, and maybe even me. If you live to be about two-hundred and three…”

The girl laughed at that one, and started to relax. “Thank you, M’lady.”

“It’s Deirdre. At least when we’re in private.” The lady admonished then let out another sigh. “You know, I’m actually getting used to people calling me that, and calling myself that? Wonder if Harald has been feeding me something extra?”

“If he has been, it certainly hasn’t calmed your temperament in the least, dear.” Katrina deadpanned. “If anything it’s made you worse.”

“Hormones.” Deirdre nodded decisively. “I blame the hormones. And puberty coming late.”

“Don’t pay attention to her, Raella.” Katrina sighed. “She’s incorrigible and will no doubt ruin you for a normal life if you listen to anything she says.”

“I take my fun where I find it.” Deirdre regally returned, then ruined that with a laugh that got Raella started.

“See what I mean?” The dressmaker rolled her eyes then joined in the laughter.

A knock on the doorframe interrupted that and a male voice came through the curtains that closed off the fitting room from the front of the shop. “I see, or rather hear, that you ladies are enjoying yourselves. Is it safe to come in”

“Yes, Garret.” Deirdre called back then found herself smiling without thinking about it when the knight carefully moved the curtains and entered the room. Raella and Katrina curtsied, but Deirdre simply stood there with a smile on her face and lifted one shoulder in a careful shrug. “I’d honor my love with a curtsey as well, but with all the pins in this thing at the moment I’d probably die from blood loss before you could find a healer if I tried.”

Garret didn’t answer, just stood there and stared for a moment before bowing. “Ladies. Deirdre, you are absolutely stunning in that gown. Every lady at court is going to be insanely jealous, and every man is going to be in instant lust. But you’re mine! All mine!”

“They’re a matched set.” Katrina whispered to Raella with a smirk.

“No!” The girl replied with wide eyes.

“Another one.” Katrina closed her eyes and winced. “Why is it that all my apprentices are smart asses?”

“Probably because they have similar temperaments to you, Katrina?” Deirdre offered.

“You haven’t married Garret yet, girl.” The dressmaker glowered in mock anger. “I can still put you over my knee if it’s needed, and remember those pins.”

“I’ll concede the contest to you, lady dressmaker.” Deirdre answered, lowering her head and trying to appear meek. “Just to avoid the pins, you understand.”

“Smart girl.” Katrina approved, the waved to Raella. “You’ve been corrupted enough for one day. Take Sir Garret to the viewing room and get him some chilled wine while I get his lady out of her new gown.”

* * * *

“You were breathtaking in that gown, my love.” Garret told her as they rode — in a coach this time — back to the palace.

“If you had dared to say something like that to me a few weeks ago I might have tried to hurt you, sirrah.” Deirdre lifted her chin and tried to appear affronted.

“And now?”

“I’m flattered that you like it, though I wish you hadn’t seen it just yet. Early viewings by the man meant to be snared by such things really ruins the surprise, you know.”

“Oh should I act surprised when I see you the night of the ball?” He questioned.

“That would be nice.” Deirdre nodded then grinned. “But it still loses some of the impact, so I’m told.”

“Oh, I’m sure with your hair done, and with jewelry, that you’ll still surprise me, dearest.” He reassured her.

“Oh, I’m just full of surprises.” She grinned.

“So I’m learning.” Garret grinned back. “I understand that you keep your staff entertained.”

“Well it’s like this.” Deirdre gave him an evil little smirk. “When no one is saying anything, or moving furniture around in my bedchamber or receiving room, if I yell just right, I can hear an echo! I love it!”

“And this, dear gods.” Garret sighed, though he was suppressing a chuckle. “Is my future wife. Get to know her well, I’m sure she’ll be attracting your attention often enough in the future that familiarity at this early stage could be an advantage you would lose if it
wasn’t taken immediately.”

“That wife thing isn’t set in stone yet, you know.” She reminded him.

“I have time.” Garret smugly answered. “I’m quite certain that my overwhelming charm will win you over, my lovely lady.”

“Is there a chamber pot in this coach?” Deirdre questioned innocently, or as innocently as a question like that could be put.

“Of course, do you require it right away? We’re nearly at the palace, after all.”

“Well if I don’t use that, I’ll just stick my head out the window and throw up on the street and innocent bystanders. Your choice, dear.”
Deirdre winked then giggled.

“Then the chamber pot, by all means!” He responded, reaching under the seat and producing a rather ornate one. “Will this do, my love?”

“Is it heavy enough to bruise you if I hit you on the head with it?”

“Probably.”

“Then hand it over, darling.” She purred

“I love you, too, dear lady.”

* * * *

“I didn’t think you’d really hit me with the thing!” Garret rubbed his head and winced.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby.” Deirdre snickered. “I only tapped you with it and the silver didn’t even dent a little, so I couldn’t have hit you that hard.”

“Next time, you sit there in trusting love and let me hit you with it.” He suggested.

“Well, I suppose fair is fair.” Deirdre sighed theatrically. “I’m marrying a beast, a girl beater! Help me o merciful gods.”

“The gods are probably rolling on the floor of their hall at your antics, dearest.” Garret chuckled. “But at least you admitted that you are going to marry me, which could be considered as progress.”

“Provisionally.” She cautioned. “Don’t get your hopes up just yet.”

“Hope wells eternal, my love.” Garret smirked in his turn.

“Better hope you have a really big bucket in that well, then.” She advised.

“Huge.” He assured her then added. “Positively huge. Takes a dozen strong men to haul it up.”

“Is that supposed to impress me?” She gave him a skeptical look.

“One can hope.” He answered almost innocently.

“Hope again.” Deirdre grumbled. “Okay, let’s change the subject here before we make my maids so ill they won’t be able to help me get dressed for dinner. Though that would be a sight, wouldn’t it? Me appearing for the evening meal in nothing but my modesty…”

“Subject change, coming right up!” He assured then leered at her. “Though that isn’t such a bad idea for a private supper…”

“I have a chamber pot in here somewhere.” She warned while looking around the receiving room.

“I surrender!” Garret threw his hands up in mock terror. “Not another word about it today, I swear on my honor!”

“You’re worse than Katrina says I am.” Deirdre laughed and gave the man a hug. “I guess we are well matched in that way, at least.”

“Oh, in more ways than that, my love.” He seriously told her while enfolding her in a hug of his own.

“Well!” Gently extricating herself from his hug, but keeping one of his arms around her shoulder, Deirdre smiled. “About that change of subject…”

* * * *

“Needlepoint, gossip.” Deirdre sighed in resignation. “Maybe someone will actually have something based in real fact this time around. Probably not, but one can hope…”

As she came up to the curtained door leading into the atrium where the local ladies gathered, she heard a familiar voice rising above the silence in the rest of the room. The Lady Bridgette of Velcum was holding forth, and loudly.

“I tell you this Deirdre is a poser! Why she had to beg Garret’s sister for enough decent clothing to be able to show her face at court! I mean, what does that tell you about the peasant girl who pretends to be one of us?”

Deirdre halted with one hand on the curtain with a feeling of her stomach dropping to the floor in front of her. Bridgette had been one of the friendliest of the ladies in the palace to her.

“And I hear that she’s really a pretty boy that Garret snagged with some kind of threat to play his paramour. After all, everyone knows that Garret is a boy lover.”

“Oh, is that so?” Deirdre whispered while holding herself back for the moment. “Girlie, you can say what you like about me, but don’t disparage Garret!”

“Oh, come on, ladies!” Bridgette went on. “The Lady Deirdre is so awkward, not even a peasant girl would be that miserably out of place in ‘her’ position. And that is just what Garret wants. A willing, compliant little catamite!”

“That’s it!” Deirdre growled, moving the curtains aside and gracefully moving into the atrium until she stood in front of her supposed friend. “Bridget. I hear you have some doubts about my right to the title of Lady?”

The woman hesitated, seeing the obvious anger in her target’s eyes and the potential for mayhem that implied. The others gathered moved quietly away from the pair.

“Tell, me, dear friend.” Deirdre quietly questioned then abruptly pulled her bodice so it slid down to reveal smallish, but well formed and definitely feminine breasts. “Would a boy have these?”

“Magic, or simple leatherwork could give you those.” Bridgette answered, regaining her arrogance. “The true test is what you have under those skirts, my boy.”

Having said that, she lunged forward before Deirdre could react and yanked the voluminous skirts over the dark haired beauty’s head, then pulled down the remaining undergarments to expose Deirdre’s crotch. “There! This will prove it…”

“Prove what?” Deirdre’s answer was muffled by the skirts covering her face and she was secretly glad of Haldur’s magical enhancement for the device Katrina had contrived to hide Deirdre’s real sex from view and make it appear to be what any girl or woman possessed between her legs. She got out of Bridgettes grip on her skirts by the simple expedient of kicking the other with one court shoe clad foot, with the pointed hard leather toe sinking gratifyingly into yielding flesh.

“You bitch!” Bridgette screamed in mixed pain and rage, but she did release Deirdre’s skirts.

“Make up your mind.” Deirdre snarled back. “Either I’m a poser and a pretty boy in skirts, or I’m a bitch. Here, let me help you decide!”

Starting to clench a hand into a fist, Deirdre remembered the carefully shaped and tended nails on that hand and mentally sighed in frustration. Then gave the other a ringing slap to the side of the head with the flat of the same hand.

Bridgette staggered, and grabbed anything to hand to maintain her balance. Which just happened to be Deirdre’s hair.

“Oww!” Deirdre had a brief instant to be glad it was all her own hair then regretted that as her roots protested the rough treatment. “You like grabbing hair do you? Try this!”

Staggering, Deirdre managed to close one hand on Bridgette’s still nearly immaculate hair and gave a yank in response. To her shock, it came off in her hand, leaving Bridgette with much shorter, and a far from luxurious mane. “Hoy! Talk about a faker!”

“Your man is a boy lover!” Bridgette screamed, trying to haul Deirdre’s head off her shoulders by the hair.

“Say what you like about me, but to my face!” Deirdre shouted back. “But don’t, don’t ever, say such evil things about Garret!”

“So maybe you think you’ve cured him of hanging around the boys during apprenticeship trials?” The redhead screamed back. “You’ll be very disappointed if you do.”

“You need to put something in that mouth besides the filth it’s spewing.” Deirdre gritted, pushing the hairpiece towards the other’s face. “Here, try this, it’s yours anyway. You might as well have it back!”

“Mmmphhh!” Bridgette managed as Deirdre started trying to force the hair into her mouth.

The argument grew more lively then. The rolling, screaming, clawing, biting, and kicking pair rolled across the carpet, bounced into and away from the huge fireplace — thankfully not in use because it was late spring, then knocked over a number of chairs in their struggles to hurt each other.

“Ladies, ladies!” A male voice rose above the din of screams, curses, and falling furniture. “Show some decorum here! This is beneath both your dignities!”

“Shut up and stand back!” Deirdre snarled at the guardsman. “Let me kill the two faced bitch, and I’ll be good after that!”

“Women.” The guard sighed, gesturing to his companions. “Get these two separated.”

The other guards were hesitant. Think about it. What sane man would get into the middle of a screaming, clawing catfight even if they were bigger and stronger than the participants? Okay, a guardsman would have to do that simply to maintain the peace.

“Couldn’t we just let them wear each other out, sergeant?” One guard questioned hopefully.

“No.” That worthy responded. “Now come on boys, we aren’t going to let a couple of little ladies scare us are we?”

The group gave the rolling, squalling tangle of feminine limbs, hair, fingernails and teeth a dubious look then one actually nodded. “In this case, sir. Yes!”

Eventually, the pair was separated, with minimum damage to the guardsmen who managed to do that. Though it should be said that they were in armor at the time. Still one of them nursed a bleeding nose, and another was holding one hand to an eye by the time the fight was broken up.

“Ladies.” The sergeant informed both of them, loudly. “If you don’t calm down, I will toss you both into the fountain to cool you off!”

“Going to have a fine shiner there Borok.” One guard observed to the one holding his eye.

“Who’d have thought she could kick that high?” Borok morosely responded as the sergeant dragged both still screaming and spitting females towards the fountain at the center of the atrium.

“Now CALM down!” The sergeant roared.

Neither participant in the fracas paid the slightest attention, still hissing, screaming imprecations at the other, and trying to work free of the man’s grasp to reach the other.

“You were warned.” So saying, the sergeant gave a heave of each arm and sent the pair arcing into the center of the fountain to land with spectacular splashes.

Both emerged from the water, sputtering, and gasping for breath, but at least neither enraged female was trying to gut the other with her teeth by then.

“Better.” The sergeant nodded in satisfaction. “Now I won’t be fool enough to tell you two to kiss and make up, but I would suggest that each of you choose a corner of the atrium and stay there until you cool off to the point of not wanting to commit mayhem on the other.”

Deirdre glared at Bridgette, Bridgette glared at her. Then the redhead suddenly reached a hand to her head and gasped. “My hair!”

“This?” Deirdre smiled evilly while holding out the sodden red mass that had been on the others head earlier then threw it at Bridgette. “Here, you can have it back, it isn’t my color, anyway.”

Bridgette stared at the soggy lump of hair that splatted at her feet, screamed in rage and launched herself at Deirdre again.

The sergeant sighed. It was going to be a long day.

By the time the two were separated that time, Deirdre was industriously trying to return the hairpiece. By stuffing it down Bridgette’s throat. Again.

* * * *

Jessie and Garret stood and simply stared at a disheveled, but extremely satisfied Deirdre. Shaking her head, Jessie started. “Aren’t you a sight, little sister!”

Deirdre, hair hanging down in a tangle that Garret found quite fetching though he knew better than to say that just then, Gown torn with visible scratches showing through the tears in the material, and still dripping water from two trips into the fountain gave a weak grin in response. “You should have seen the other girl?”

“I did.” Jessica answered. “They were still picking sewing needles and pins out of her backside then. She’s saying you tried to kill her with those.”

“Oh, those.” Deirdre shrugged. “Someone dropped a pincushion while getting out of the way and we rolled over it in all the excitement. That Bi… Bridgette just happened to be on the bottom when we did.”

“One guardsman with a broken nose, another with a black eye that’s almost swollen shut right now.” Jessica continued ticking off the damages on the fingers of one hand.

“Those were accidents!” The dripping young lady in front of them protested. “I apologized to them both. Those kicks were supposed to hit Bridgette. But I don’t think they took my apologies seriously, both of them were snickering when I made them.”

“Dearest.” Garret drily put in. “You just gave the delicate ladies of the court and not nearly so delicate palace guards more entertainment up close than they’ve had in years. That’s probably why the guards were laughing when you apologized. Thankfully, guard duty here at the palace tends to be a bit boring.”

“Oh.” Pulling a strand of wet hair off one cheek with a dainty hand and carefully placing it on her equally wet shoulder, Deirdre sighed. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Also, it is most unbecoming for two ladies of the standing you two possess to be rolling around on the floor like a pair of tavern wenches fighting over a man.” Jessica managed to contain the grin that was trying to play at the corners of her mouth.

“She started it.” Deirdre muttered.

“I heard that you slapped her first.” Jessica countered.

“Well, yes but the bitch needed slapping. I was willing enough to leave it at that, but she grabbed my hair and started pulling.”

“Why did she need ‘slapping’?” Jessica questioned. “There are more decorous methods of handling disagreements, after all.”

“She insulted me, which I could take well enough.” Deirdre let out a sigh then got a fierce expression on her face. “But when she started insulting Garret I’d had enough. So I slapped her.”

“My brother is quite capable of defending his own honor.” Jessica shook her head then added. “As well as being the one who is supposed to defend yours.”

“That backbiting, false faced, little…” Deirdre stopped what she was going to say at a warning look from Jessica. “Well, she was saying such awful things about us, Garret, and she didn’t know I was around to hear them until I confronted her then things went kind of wild.”

“She pulled your hair after you slapped her, I know.” Garret’s sister sighed a little herself. “But did you have to pull off her hairpiece?”

“Well, when she grabbed mine, I just reacted and grabbed hers to keep from being thrown to the floor.” Deirdre answered in an injured tone. “How was I to know it would come off with a good yank? I tried giving it back when she demanded it.”

“Uh, dear.” Garret could barely hide his own amusement. “Trying to stuff a rather voluminous hairpiece down someone’s throat doesn’t really qualify as ‘trying to give it back’ no matter how you might try to slant the facts.”

“Well.” Deirdre tried to look crestfallen. “It doesn’t? She would have been in possession of the thing again if someone hadn’t stopped me, after all.”

Jessica gave Garret a look with rolled eyes, and he returned it as she leaned close to whisper. “Sure you want to go through with this marriage? You have yourself a little hellion here. She might hurt you if you get her angry enough.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, dear sister.” Garret whispered back with a grin. “It’s been a few generations since the Lady of Chalmnessa was a firebrand like Deirdre. She might actually get the lazier of our servants shaped up given the chance.”

“There is that.” Jessica admitted with a giggle. “Dad is going to adore her.”

“That’s because she’ll remind him of the grandmother who terrorized him as a child.” Garret chuckled.

“So what are we going to do with her right now?” Jessica questioned. “True enough, she was justified in delivering that slap to that self important, lying bitch, but we really need to try breaking her of that habit. Otherwise no one will be willing to visit us at home.”

“Tell her this.” Garret answered then spoke more loudly to a curious and impatient Deirdre. “My love, though you were goaded into this unfortunate — umm — altercation…”

“Fight.” She offered helpfully to clarify things.

“Whatever.” Garret waved that off along with the laughter he was fighting to hold in. “You were acting more like a boy than the lady you promised to be for me. Do you understand that?”

“Not fair.” Deirdre pouted, then accused. “You’re laughing at me, both of you!”

“Not at you, dear.” Jessica didn’t bother hiding her mirth that time. “But at the situation. That bitch Bridgette has been in need of a good ass kicking since she started growing breasts. You delivered that quite admirably, but the timing could have been just a bit better. As I said there are more decorous methods of ironing out a disagreement.”

“Meaning.” A mollified Deirdre sighed. “No scratching, biting, kicking, screaming, hair pulling and choking?”

“Exactly.” Jessica nodded in agreement then gave the other a long look. “Choking?”

“Never mind.” The dark haired beauty and hellion hastily responded. “Those bruises around Bridgette’s delicate, lying throat were probably from all the rolling around anyway.”

“I see.” Jessica nodded. “You and I are going to have a long, long talk about the kind of claws that don’t do physical damage. Soon.”

“Fine.” The young lady agreed then gave both Jessica and Garret a plaintive look. “Now, could I please go get out of these wet things, dry off, and toss the goldfish I seem to have somehow collected into the pond by the patio?”

With another shared look and a dual sigh, both brother and sister nodded. Jessica did throw one request at Deirdre’s quickly retreating back. “Just please put on a robe before you return those fish to their proper element.”

“What?” The response floated back. “You think I’m a barbarian or something?”

“Got yourself a handful there brother.” Jessica told Garret once the object of her watching had disappeared behind her bed chamber doors.

“I noticed.” Garret laughed. “I knew it when I heard what those poor maids were screaming the first time Derek was becoming Deirdre. She’ll be a fine addition to the family, don’t you think?”

“You two deserve each other.” She slapped his shoulder and laughed. “Gods, my children are going to have an aunt to use as a bad example.”

“She’ll spoil your children unmercifully.” Garret promised.

“As if you wouldn’t, you soft touch.”

“A warrior can like children too, you know.” He returned.

“I know, dear.” Jessica smiled and placed a hand on his cheek. “I just wonder how the future Lady of Chalmnessa is going to react when she discovers she’s bearing a nephew or niece for me to spoil in return.”

“We’ll deal with that once it happens.” He winked then turned serious. “If it happens.”

“Oh it will.” Jessica assured him. “Deirdre is more woman than boy already, both physically and emotionally. That prophecy is being rather cruel to the boy she once was, you know. But she is quite obviously in love with you, though how she could be that with a crude lunk like you, I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“I’m charming and fun to be around?” He answered, the turned serious. “Jess, that prophecy would have seen Derek becoming Deirdre or whatever name she chose once the change finished whether she accepted my attentions or not. Our family’s prophecies do tend to be rather inflexible.”

“True enough, brother.” Jessica nodded with a sigh. “I only hope I can teach her to be a lady while you teach her to be a woman.”

“Between the two of us we’ll manage.” He told her.

“You hope.”

“True enough.” Garret grinned. “Gods! What a woman she is going to be!”

“A fit mate for the kingdom’s foremost warrior?” His sister grinned.

“I knew that the moment I set eyes on Derek.” He sighed. “Though I hated the idea of him losing his manhood, I joyed in the life companion I had found.”

“I understand, dear.” Jessica patted his hand. “Truthfully, I’m rather looking forward to having that fire brand as a sister-in-law. Maybe she’ll be the one to mellow you out a bit!”

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Eight
 By Maggie Finson
 
Life in the Palace

or, How Am I supposed to Remember all this stuff?!!

 

“Sheesh!” Deirdre protested. “I had to learn needlepoint, knitting, and fortunately I already knew how to sew. Then there was meeting a bunch of fluttery little ladies who are supposed to be the cream of the nation and remember all their names, what they like, dislike, and just smiling when they insist on sharing all their concerns. But this is just going beyond the call of whatever it is! Dancing lessons?”

“Come now, dear.” Jessica soothed. “It won’t be so bad. You might even decide it can be fun.”

“Fun!” Giving her loose hair a little flip, Deirdre let out a long suffering sigh.

“Being able to perform the traditional and newer steps might just be relaxing for you, dear.” Garret’s sister pressed. “Plus it’s a wonderful way to meet new people.”

“Sure, new horny males who only want to ogle me from close up, and have a chance to grope under the guise of being politely civilized.” The new girl retorted. “I am so NOT ready to do something like that!”

“Well get ready, my soon to be sister.” Jessica smoothed her own honey blonde hair with a sigh. “Dancing is not just an accepted social interaction, knowing how to do so properly is de-riguer for ladies of our standing. So quit bitching and just do it. The groping and leers could be considered a compliment, you know.”

“Oh, suuuure.” Deirdre griped then brightened as she asked. “Could I maybe give them a little roundhouse slap if they put their hands places I don’t think should be touched? Or if they squeeze things that decent men don’t do to a lady who is promised to someone else?”

“Absolutely not.” Jessica responded with a touch of a grin playing around the corners of her mouth. “Though wishing to is something that isn’t all that strange an impulse among most ladies on social occasions. But they don’t do it unless the ‘gentleman’ is very obnoxious and persistent. A lady slapping a man can cause a fight at the very least, and in the worst case, a deadly feud between two families. So, please don’t hit, kick, or bite anyone, dear. Garret has enough to deal with right now without another feud to handle.”

“No fair!” Deirdre practiced her girlish pout. “Bringing up Garret and making me feel as if I could cause more problems for him.”

“So learn the dance steps, smile when you do it, and keep smiling when you debut at the Grand Ball.” Jessica admonished. “And smile prettily if some man happens to stroke or grope something you consider private. Of course you are allowed to move the man’s hand away from the part of your anatomy he’s trying to maul. But gently.”

“With a smile.” Deirdre grimaced. “This lady stuff is harder than it looks.”

“Of course it is, dear.” Jessica chuckled and gave the other a hug.

“Especially because I’m still a bit outraged and boggled by what my body is doing. Several months ago I didn’t even have the body parts I’m worrying about here. This isn’t easy for me.”

“You’re developing rather well at that.” Jessica admitted while giving the other’s growing bosom, hips, and bottom careful looking over with slow nod. “I can see where that would be something you’d really rather not deal with having men paw at just now.”

“Oh, what gives you that idea?” The dark haired beauty caustically returned. “Could it be that I was a fairly normal boy a while ago? You think? Maybe?”

“Granted.” Jessica sighed as she agreed with all that. “But you can do nothing about that now, can you? The best thing to do is get used to it at least even if you can’t like it just yet. But please, please, let’s not have a repeat of that altercation with Bridgette if some man happens to cop a feel on you at the Ball. Putting your pretty knee into the crotch or handing an eye to some idiot who is likely a bit worse for drink, isn’t acceptable behavior at all. Though I do admit that I and other life-long ladies will too, the temptation is always there.”

“Smile prettily, move the offending hand, and refuse to dance with the bore again.” Jessica shrugged. “We do have that option, after all.”

“You have no idea how much better that makes me feel.” Deirdre drily answered.

“Sarcasm still doesn’t become you dear.”

“Why not?” Deirdre gave Jessica an innocent look.

“Just do your best to learn the steps, all right?” Jessica asked sweetly. “And don’t embarrass yourself and Garret at the ball. Please?”

“All right, all right.” Deirdre let out a long suffering sigh. “I’ll do it already!”

“That’s the attitude I wanted to see!”

“I said it didn’t I?” Deirdre plaintively answered.

* * * *

“Very good, M’lady.” Vertigan, the dance instructor complimented her as Deirdre finally managed the complex steps of a pavane without getting herself tangled up in some manner or other.

Other ladies were present as well, to either learn some new steps or brush up on their own dancing skills, and many of those maintained a nervously cautious distance from the still somewhat uncouth black haired beauty Sir Garret had brought among them. Deirdre didn’t really mind that so much for herself. Most of the ‘ladies’ avoiding her weren’t really people she would choose to spend a great deal of time with given the choice. They were just too fluttery and studiedly delicate for the new girl’s liking.

A few others, however weren’t at all intimidated by being close to the firebrand who had confronted, then beaten the crap out of Bridgette. One of those, another redhead leaned close when she noticed Deirdre’s expression as the girl eyed the standoffish members of the group. “Don’t worry about them, dear. The lot of them, I think, may have enough real brains to fill a teacup. Providing the tea and water were already in the cup.”

That drew a little chuckle from Deirdre who searched her memory for the other’s name and surprisingly found it. “Well, at least I know not to trust any of them when my back is turned now, Irena.”

“A lesson well learned early.” The redhead agreed with a grin that turned a bit wicked. “Besides, ‘The Lady Bridgette of Rork badly needed the kind of ‘come uppance’ you provided in such an entertaining manner. Ashley, Isaboe, and I were cheering you on every scratch, bite, and hair pull of the way.”

“Thank you.” Deirdre grinned weakly. “I got a real reaming for ‘rolling around on the floor with someone caterwauling like a common tavern wench fighting over a man’ once that was over with. Even if I got the impression that Garret and Jessica were secretly amused over the whole thing.”

“Oh, trust me, it was entertaining to those of us with reason to dislike Brigdette, and there are more than a few who are included in that group.” Irena answered with another grin that turned serious for a moment. “But I’d watch my back around that one from now on. She isn’t the forgiving type.”

“Neither am I, evidently.” Deirdre sighed.

“No, I can see that.” Irena chuckled. “But you tend to be a bit more direct than most ladies are comfortable with being most of the time. Personally, I find that quality rather refreshing around here. You’re much like the Queen in that, by the way. So don’t think I’m disparaging that directness, or making fun of it, though I might tease you a bit about it off and on.”

“Teasing I understand and can tease right back when it’s in fun.” Deirdre shrugged. “Just ask my sister about that. I admit to having been a gamin before Garret singled me out in that arena, and am still one at heart even with all the polishing everyone is trying to do on me just now.”

“Just try not to lose that spark of fire in your spirit, Deirdre.” Irena answered. “You really liven this place up, and I’m not talking about that ‘tavern brawl’ of yours in the Atrium. Well, maybe a bit, but you know what I mean, I hope.”

“Oh, I get the idea.” Deirdre let out a sigh. “Never a dull moment around me and all that.”

* * * *

“Well, it’s good to see you making friends among the other ladies.” Garret told her with approval in his voice. “Real friends, I mean.”

“Uh huh.” Deirdre grimaced. “Before all this started with you and me, if I had been in such close contact with several of these new friends I would have been actively working to become more than simply friends.”

“Do you still feel that way?” He questioned quietly.

“What? Between the weirdness of what happened to me with you, is happening, and the physicians are saying is just ‘normal’ problems a girl has when puberty hits?” She retorted. “Female puberty! Me! This is sooo embarrassing at times.”

“You do seem to be a — rapid bloomer.” Garret agreed with an appreciative glance at his lady’s burgeoning figure.

“I was looking forward to developing the other way!” Deirdre fumed. “Now instead of growing up and getting a nice set of muscles, I’m going to spend the rest of my life looking up at most people just to carry on a conversation. And these are definitely NOT muscles!”

Illustrating her point by lifting her growing breasts with both hands, she glowered at the man as he pursed his lips and nodded.

“No, they certainly aren’t that, dear. Plus, there is nothing wrong with a woman being — umm — petite.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Deirdre growled. “I think I’ll go take a bath if you’ll excuse me.”

“Oh by all means.” Garret genially waved her off. “Jessica says that it sometimes helps with her tempers if she throws a few things against the wall…”

“I’ll try that.” Having said that the dark haired little dynamo flounced out of the room and slammed the door to her bedchambers.
Shortly after that came several crashes and feminine screams of hormone induced rage. Garret winced, shrugged, and decided it wasn’t a good time to remind her of the dinner they had been invited to that evening. Deciding that, he left a written message with one of the maids, and exercised the better part of valor by leaving his intended’s rooms.

* * * *

Roric of Lindsay read the dispatch from Jhalmar with a frown. “So, my cousin has found himself a lady at last. A complication I’ll have to see to, I believe.”

After writing two separate notes and placing them in envelopes, he dripped wax on the pair, affixed his seal, and passed them to the waiting messenger. “Take these back to Jhalmar once you’ve eaten and rested a while. One to the Lady Bridgette, and the other to the usual place.”

“Of course, M’lord.” The messenger bowed then carefully backed out of the man’s presence.

* * * *

“I trust you feel better now?” Garret questioned while escorting Deirdre, resplendent in a gold colored gown to the dinner.

“Marginally.” She answered with a little grimace.

“I’ll take what I can get, I suppose.” The man gave a theatrical sigh then grinned.

“Good.” Deirdre tartly replied. “Because that’s all you get this evening. For a while at least.”

“Just promise me you won’t slam some poor lady who insults you by accident into the table, tonight.”

“You take all the fun out of things, dear.” She chuckled.

“At least you’re laughing again.” He pointed out.

“Don’t press your luck, sirrah.” She grumbled.

“As I said, I’ll take what I can get.”

“And you’d better like it, too.” She returned with a little smirk.

“Oh?”

“This is all your fault, you know.” She accused while gesturing at her cleavage, rounded hips and bottom, then glowered at him. “If you hadn’t chosen me at that tournament…”

“You’d likely still be learning the dressmaker’s trade.” He countered. “While ‘growing’ into it, so to speak.”

“You think so?” She questioned then shook her head. “No. It’s that blasted prophecy doing this to me. Don’t even try and deny it!”

“How can I do that when I’m not even sure about it myself?” Garret calmly countered.

“So you say, boyo.” She answered with a toss of her head that was quite feminine.

“Could we maybe discuss this later, my love?” He questioned as they neared the doors to the chambers they’d been invited to for the evening meal. “We’re nearly there now.”

“Oh, we can, I suppose.” She shrugged, then glared at him. “And will. In great detail.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it, dear.” Letting out a long sigh of resignation, Garret pleaded. “Just be polite, smile at the nice people, and no temper until we leave the dinner, please?”

“If you insist.” She agreed then grinned impishly. “But I thought you liked me being a little — what was the term you used? Ahh, firebrand, wasn’t it?”

“Me and my big mouth.” He muttered. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Well, I did.” Her smug answer had him wondering just what life with this little tornado in mostly girl form would be like. It would be interesting at the least, he decided.

“Oh interestingly enough, you and I do have a similar taste in enemies.” He wisely changed the subject.

“Really?” She questioned. “How did you reach that conclusion?”

“The Lady Bridgette, who you made a life-long enemy the other day, by the way, happens to be affianced to my cousin Roric of Lindsay.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” She responded almost wearily.

* * * *

Lord Andreis and his following were influential members of a group of nobles who marginally supported Garret’s claim to the seat of Chalmnessa, but wished to personally meet the young lady he was betrothed to.

“So this is the young lady we’ve been hearing so much about recently!” Andries boomed as Deirdre was presented to him and his wife, Laren. “Well there is no doubt that you did pick a pretty one here, Garret!”

Deirdre blushed, as much at being taken for a beautiful girl as at the compliment, curtsied, and quietly answered. “Thank you, my Lord.”

“You are quite lovely, my dear.” Laren smiled at Deirdre and gestured for the couple to enter. “Though a few things I’ve heard about you are more than a bit curious. But we can discuss that later, can’t we? Please come in and let Andreis and I introduce you to the others before dinner is served.”

“That would be lovely, Lady Laren.” Deirdre replied with another curtsey while worrying about the ‘few things’ their hostess obviously intended to probe her about later on.

“Come along then, you two.” Laren had taken over without a demur from Andreis and pulled the pair along in her wake simply by virtue of her personal magnetism.

“I’ll never keep all these people straight.” Deirdre whispered to Garret once the chain of introductions had been made.

“Don’t worry yourself about that, dear.” He whispered back with an encouraging smile. “They really don’t expect you to do that at a first gathering.”

“Oh, that makes me fell sooo much better.” She whispered back.

“In time, you’ll know and remember everyone important here at court.” He promised.

“That’s what worries me.” She smiled while saying that from the corner of her mouth. “Meeting all those important people is not going to be easy for me, you know.”

“You’ll do fine.” He assured her while giving her arm a small squeeze. “People just naturally like you, dearest.”

“You might remind Bridgette and her cronies about that one when you get a chance.”

“At least you choose your enemies well.”

Garret’s shrug nearly had Deirdre snapping at him again, but she held that back with effort. “As you say, my love.”

“Now, come. Let’s enjoy the meal. Laren is famous for her dinners, and justly so.”

“Oh, all right.” Deirdre allowed herself to be led into the dining room and seated by Garret, who gingerly took a place beside her.

“Just smile, be polite, and be yourself, darling.”

“That’s what gets me into trouble, you know.”

“To know you is to love you, dearest.” He answered with a broad smile.

“We’ve been through this already.” She answered with a little sigh. “But I’ll take your word for that, all right?”

“Just as well.” Garret nodded. “Don’t let yourself worry about that, just be your usual ebullient self this evening.”

“I promised not to get into any fights, you know.”

“Yes you did.” Garret nodded judiciously.

“You’re teasing me now.” She accused.

“Yes.” He responded.

“I’ll get you for that later.”

“Yet another thing to look forward to, dearest.” The man responded with a beatific grin.

“Count on it, darling.” She purred.

“Oh I do, my love.”

“I wish you’d quit giving me those sappy looks when I say things like that!” She grumped.

“I love you, Deirdre.” Garret replied easily. “What do you expect out of me?”

“A bit less of the love thing for starters.” She shot back then grinned. “But I suppose that’s way too much to ask here.”

“That it is, my love.” The man nodded with a serious expression on his face. “You are everything I ever dreamed of in a woman.”

“I’m not…”

“Don’t say it again, love.” He cautioned. “You are more of a woman than some who were born to it. Stop fighting that and accept the truth.”

“This is part of the thing we were going to discuss later, isn’t it?” She questioned sweetly.

“Yes it is, dear.” Garret resorted to the common response used by men with their women since before history started.

“You better remember that, too.” She answered in the unofficially standard response to that.

* * * *

The dinner was sumptuous, and served in a number of courses that began with a fragrant, delicious soup containing bits of asparagus in a creamy base. The gentleman seated on her other side, whose name she couldn’t recall to save her life, chatted amiably about inconsequentialities throughout the meal. Which,much to her surprise, she found pleasant.

Salads, meats, fowls, and fish in a bewildering array of sauces and shapes followed and Deirdre found herself too well filled to finish much of anything, though at times she wished she could eat like she once had. She politely tried each offering and found herself believing that the Lady Laren was justly famous for her dinner parties.

Once the remains of desert had been removed the men helped their ladies from their seats then headed off to share tobacco and brandy. Lady Laren led the women and Deirdre into another room that was furnished comfortably and in unmistakably feminine ways.

“Please take seats and make yourselves comfortable.” The lady invited then grinned. “Our men are doing the smoke and brandy thing, which we won’t, but we have a very nice wine selection that my servants would be very happy to let all of you sample.”

Deridre carefully seated herself on a small couch, mindful of smoothing her skirts and not letting the petticoats underneath it push out when she sat down. A servant approached her and she told him. “Just get me the strongest stuff your lady will allow on occasions like this. And keep it coming, please.”

“Of course, M’lady.” The maid answered with a doubtful expression. “We have some distilled wine that some say is excellent.”

“That will work wonderfully.” Deirdre nodded. “Thank you.”

When the deceptively mild appearing pink fluid was brought to her, Deirdre tipped the goblet back and took a discrete gulp. And nearly choked as the beverage crawled down her throat — with torches setting fire to anything it passed — and ignited in her stomach like naptha spirits touched with a flame.

Through streaming eyes and ringing ears, she realized that Laren had asked her a question. She managed to get her voice working and shrugged. “Apologies, I missed that, m’lady.”

“Distilled wine tends to do that to people if they don’t expect it.” Laren laughed then took a sip of her own goblet filled with the same explosive brew. “The trick is to take small sips, dear. I was asking you how you like life here at the palace is all.”

“Oh, it’s not anything I ever dreamed of.” Deirdre answered quickly then tried to recover her sliding sideways perceptions. “Actually, I expected things to be much grander.”

The gathering laughed, but not cruelly and Laren nodded. “Well, commoners do tend to glorify the surroundings and company at times. The truth, I fear is somewhat disillusioning to many of them who get to see it from the inside.”

“Oh, it’s wonderful!” Deirdre quickly answered, then grimaced. “But I do have to admit that originally I expected golden cups, tableware, and constant balls for the noble’s entertainment.”

“Do you still expect all that?”

“Oh no.” Deirdre shook her head, very cautious about taking another drink of the beverage in her blown glass goblet. She halfway expected it to fizz, smoke, and sizzle. “I’m learning that there is responsibility along with the privilege.”

“A difficult lesson for many born to the nobility to learn.” Laren nodded in approval. “From all I hear, though, you have some rather extreme notions of honor and propriety.”

Deirdre held off answering by taking a sip of the brew in her goblet and thought it was going to blow the top of her head off when she did. “What do you mean, Lady?”

“Oh, that altercation with the Lady Bridgette.” Laren answered with a shrug.

“That.” The dark haired almost girl grumbled. “Is probably going to haunt me for the rest of my life.”

“Would you care to explain?” Her hostess questioned while the others present took attitudes of close attention.

“What’s to explain?” Deirdre questioned simply then went on. “Nasty comments about me I could have handled and been catty right back. But when the bit… lady, started saying those awful things about Garret, I couldn’t stand it.”

“Defending your man is a fairly good reason.” Laren nodded then gave her guest a questioning look. “Is it true that you slapped her?”

“I challenge any of you here to say that you wouldn’t have done the same in those circumstances.” Deirdre snorted and refrained from adding ‘When the bitch was striking at someone not present, and was doing so with me before she realized I was in the room.' “Of course I slapped her!”

“Understandable.” One of the other women in the room put in.

“So what escalated that into something that had the guards entertained like they haven’t been in years?” Laren questioned.

“She grabbed my hair and tried to throw me to the floor with that leverage.” Deirdre shrugged. “To be honest, at that point I simply stopped trying to be proper and returned the favor. How was I to know she was wearing a hairpiece?”

“Did you really try to stuff that down her throat?” Another woman questioned.

“Umm — twice, actually.” Deirdre admitted with a sigh then added. “I nearly had it the last time, but the guards stopped me.”

That was met with a merriment Deirdre hadn’t expected at all, as Laren wiped tears from her eyes and grinned. “Oh, I wish I could have been there to see that!”

The others agreed with laughter of their own, and the evening degenerated into talk of what each lady really wanted to do with their men.

* * * *

“You appear to have enjoyed yourself this evening.” Garret observed as he extricated his betrothed from the gaggle of giggling — no, hilariously laughing — ladies.

“I did.” She affirmed, still clutching the goblet half filled with the fiery brew that Laren had unleashed on the gathering of ladies. “Fun people.”

“What, exactly?” The knight carefully asked. “Is in the cup you’re cradling like the heir to the throne of Jhalmar?”

“Oh, just some distilled wine.” Deirdre grinned and offered her goblet to him. “Try some? It’s really, really good. Once you get the first two or three swallows down.”

“Thank you, but you enjoy what’s left of it.” He answered while carefully making sure she didn’t try to pour the explosive brew into his mouth. “I take it all you ladies were enjoying this beverage?”

“You better believe it!” She enthusiastically responded. “We had a great time after dinner!”

“Yet another reason Laren is famous for her parties.” He sighed. “Do you think you can walk back to your rooms, or should I carry you?”

“I can walk!” She affirmed then got a sly look on her pretty face. “But carry me anyway.”

“Why, if you can walk, even if it is a bit unevenly?”

“Because.” Deirdre answered matter of factly. “If I’m over your shoulder I could kick, beat on your back, scream, and all that. C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

“Concentrate on walking without running into a wall, dear.” He advised.

“We wouldn’t have to worry about that if you carried me.” She pointed out.

“Walk, dearest.” Garret ordered.

“Oh, all right.”

* * * *

Without benefit of the mage concocted hangover remedy that Harald had given her the last time she’d had more than was considered healthy for a growing girl, Deirdre awakened to a throbbing headache and nausea that threatened to have her getting rid of whatever remained in her stomach before she even managed to lurch out of bed.

“Ohh.” She groaned when even a simple motion caused the room to swirl in a kalidescope of colors. “Mental note. Next time I enjoy one of Lady Laren’s dinner parties, remember to drink something a bit less explosive…”

But she also recalled that she had actually made friends the previous evening, though for the life of her, she couldn’t recall any names other than Laren’s. “I have GOT to find another way to come out of my shell!”

Pulling the cord to summon a maid, she tried not to throw up as the previous night’s escapades gleefully worked on making her pay for the fun.

The maid who answered was unfamiliar to her, and Deirdre didn’t ask her name right away, simply gave a long, suspicious stare at the cup the girl was holding out. “What’s that?”

“A hangover cure, M’lady.” The girl answered with a small curtsey while still offering the cup.

“Let’s hope it works.” Deirdre grumbled as she accepted the offering and poured the contents of the cup down her throat. “GAH!
What was IN that?”

“Better you don’t know at the moment, M’lady.” The maid answered with a sigh. “Give it a few minutes and you’ll be fine.”

Her stomach stopped trying to crawl up her throat, her senses settled, the headache vanished, and Deirdre cautiously took a deep breath then smiled as the sensations of well being didn’t fade. “Oh, thank you. I feel much better now.”

“I have used the same potion on occasion, M’lady.” The girl nodded with a smile. “It is most effective.”

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” Deirdre questioned after nodding and looking at the maid for a few seconds.

“Yes, M’lady.” The girl lowered her eyes and curtsied. “I am Wilhelmina, and was assigned to you last evening. Is there anything else you require at the moment?”

“Wilhelmina.” Deirdre shook her head. “Are you called anything else in daily life?”

“Mina, my lady.”

“All right, Mina.” Deirdre smiled. “Could you have a bath readied, then breakfast?”

“Of course, M’lady.” The maid smiled and waved towards the door to Deirdre’s bathing room. “The water is hot, scented pleasantly, and ready for you now.”

“I think I’m going to like having you around, Mina.” Deirdre answered as she made her way to the bathing room.

* * * *

“I don’t believe I did that!” Deirdre lowered her face until it rested in her hands and stayed that way while mumbling something else that was unintelligible.

“Did what dear?” Jessica questioned then advised. “I might be able to actually hear what you’re saying if you’d lift your head instead of talking to the table top through your hands.”

“I have GOT to stop trying to keep up with people more experienced with drinking than I am.” The dark haired beauty sighed as
she did lift her face from her hands then questioned almost accusingly. “Are parties and getting innocents drunk, all you people do for entertainment here at the palace?”

“Of course not, honey.” Jessica answered then rolled her eyes a moment. “But this year’s founding celebration is special. It’s the 500th anniversary of the establishment of our present ruling dynasty. So the festivities are tending to be a bit more — umm — enthusiastic this year.”

“Enthusiasm I can deal with.” Deirdre grumbled. “Alcohol poisoning, I have some serious doubts about, though.”

“Then moderate your intake of spirits at such gatherings.” Garret’s sister advised.

“I plan to do that.”

“Good.” The blonde haired young lady nodded with a grin. “Now what did you do that you can’t believe you did. I can’t wait to hear this one.”

“I — umm — think I tried to seduce Garret.” Deirdre answered in a quiet voice.

“You think?” Jessica smirked, showing her friend no mercy. “Either you tried to seduce my brother — which would have made him very happy, by the way — or you didn’t. There’s no ‘think I did’ on this one.”

“Well…” Deirdre sighed. “I suggested that he could carry me home, over his shoulder. So I could kick, scream, pound on his back, and all that stuff abducted virgins are supposed to do.”

“You didn’t!” Jessica giggled then burst into real laughter. “Oh, I knew I was going to enjoy having you around!”

“Don’t change the subject here.”

“Oh, I’m not, dear sister-to-be.” Jessica chortled then waved away a retort forming on the other’s mouth. “I would call that a seduction attempt, even if a bit on the clumsy side, but it was a good try. You’ll get better at it.”

“That’s what worries me.” Deirdre grumbled.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Jessica consoled. “It’s all part of being what you are now, and you’re doing quite well at it. I heard from Lady Laren that you made a lot of friends last evening including her and her husband. Allies like that are no small matter, my dear. You’ve absolutely charmed their majesties, and others you’ve simply met in passing. Cultivate those favorable contacts and you’ll do more than simply get along while you’re here.”

“All this friend/enemy stuff gives me a headache.” Giving an errant curl of black hair an irritable tug to get it out of her face, Deirdre grimaced. “I’ve experienced that kind of thing before, but then an enemy would generally settle for rubbing my face in the mud or something like that. Now I have at least one who would cheerfully murder me in my sleep without a twinge of conscience.”

“Two at the very least.” Jessica sobered. “Our cousin, Rorick is another and a very dangerous one. That man has power and reach even here in the palace. Watch your surroundings at all times, and be suspicious of anything out of the ordinary.”

“Out of the ordinary.” Deirdre nodded then let shook her head. “Jessica, everything is out of the ordinary for me just now in case you hadn’t quite understood that.”

“I noticed dear.” Garret’s sister smiled and gave the other a hug. “I mean things like sudden changes of servants, an extra one appearing suddenly, or people you’ve never seen inviting themselves in to pass the time of day with you.”

“Oh.” Deirdre nodded then paled. “I had a new maid assigned to me last evening while I was gone. Wilhelmina is her name.”

“I sent Mina.” Jessica reassured the other. “Though it is good that you brought this up. Mina is much more than a simple maid servant. She will protect you with her life, and that protection is quite skilled in arts men frown on their women learning, if you know what I mean.”

“I think I’ll leave that one alone.” Deirdre faintly replied.

“Wise of you, little sister.” Jessica quietly answered. “Just know that you can trust Mina with your life and leave it at that, all right?”

“I suppose I should feel better.” Deirdre replied then questioned. “But why does the idea that I need a bodyguard like that scare me?”

“You are wiser than your years, dear one.” Jessica answered with a sad little smile. “Life at court isn’t all fun and games, even for the ladies. You need to understand that, and begin to deal with it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” Jessica lost her intent expression and grinned. “Now, tell me about the gown you’ll be wearing to the Ball. Katrina won’t tell me a thing about it!”

* * * *

Ilene gave her one-time brother a critical looking over and nodded her approval. “You are absolutely gorgeous!”

“Thanks, I think.” Deirdre answered while fussing with the skirt of her scarlet and silver gown. “I never thought I’d be pleased hearing my own sister say that about me, you know.”

“But you are, I can see that well enough.” Ilene countered.

“Yes.” The former boy let out a sigh then smiled. “I am. How is mother handling all this?”

“Ask her yourself.” The younger girl grinned as she opened the door leading out of the fitting rooms of Katrina’s shop and waving someone to enter.

Derek’s -- who was now irrevocably Deirdre -- mother entered the room and stopped to simply stare at the young lady her son had become with an expression that was difficult to read.

“Mom?” Deirdre questioned tentatively.

The older woman didn’t answer, simply moved around to see Deirdre from different sides then moved to stand just out of arms reach of the girl she had raised as a son with a thoughtful expression on her prematurely aged face.

“Do you hate me now?” The object of the woman’s examination questioned with pain clear in her velvety contralto.

“Hate?” Maeve, Derek’s mother, repeated softly then drew in a long breath. “How could a mother ever hate her child?”

“I’m not even close to what I wanted to be for you, mother.”

“You are what you are, dear.” Maeve answered firmly. “I believe that the lovely young lady standing before me is what my poor son always needed to be. Are you ashamed for me to see you as you are now?”

“No.” Deirdre shook her head and offered a tentative smile. “But I was worried that you would think I was throwing away my father’s legacy.”

“What legacy?” The woman questioned. “Karl left you nothing but a void to fill in whatever manner you could. It wasn’t his fault, but that is how it was regardless. He loved you, Der — Deirdre, and would love you now. You are so beautiful. Any father would be proud, and worried, to have a daughter like you.”

“Then you aren’t angry with me?” Deirdre hesitantly asked then moved her delicate hands over her body and the gown that covered it.

“Deirdre, my darling, Deirdre.” Maeve answered softly. “Angry? Never. You were always more the girl than boy no matter how much trouble you tried getting into when you were a child. When Ilene was born you insisted on helping me care for her, sang to her, rocked her, and I could see then that you were made to be a mother, not a father. I am happy that you will be able to become what your soul is meant to be. What mother wouldn’t be overjoyed when her child finally finds what he or she is meant to be and do?”

“A mother?” Deirdre grimaced and pushed away the thrill that thought gave her. “I haven’t got the proper anatomy to be a mother.”

“You have breasts to nurture your babies.” Maeve pointed out to her new daughter’s discomfort. “Along with the hips to bear strong, healthy babies of your own. The gods do what they will, my daughter. It does no good to argue with them about their decisions. You will be a mother, and a good one. I know that, and knew it when you were masquerading as a boy.”

“But, mama.” Deirdre argued. “I am a boy, no matter how I might look just now.”

“No, darling.” Maeve moved forward to give her newly discovered daughter a firm hug. “You are what you are. Which is the wonderfully beautiful young lady I see in front of me who is betrothed to the finest knight in the realm. You are most definitely not a boy.”

“I guess this means you still love me.” Deirdre mumbled into her mother’s breast since that was where her face presently was.

“I’ll always love you, daughter.” Maeve affirmed

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Nine
 By Maggie Finson
 
The Royal Grand Ball

or, “The Things I do just to Keep People Happy.”

 

“So how am I supposed to act tonight?” Deirdre nervously questioned Jessica resplendent in her gold gown, as the pair waited for their men to arrive.

“Just be yourself, dear.” The other answered with a shrug then rearranged the skirts of her gown for better effect when the men arrived.

“That’s what keeps getting me into trouble.” The dark haired almost girl snorted while making certain her own skirts were arranged in the most flattering manner.

“Without the hair pulling, slapping, and rolling on the floor.” Jessica giggled at the image that brought to mind in the middle of the Royal Grand Ball.

“Easy for you to say.” Deirdre grumbled. “You don’t get sudden impulses to murder the butler for offering you a sweet.”

“It’s part of growing up as a girl.” Jessica answered imperturbably. “Girls have some pretty wild urges when they reach puberty, after all. Our poor men only get horny.”

“They have it easy then.” Deirdre grumped.

“Yes they do.” Her future sister-in-law agreed then laughed. “But the trick here is NOT letting them realize that. We ladies are supposed to be beautiful, serene, and above such petty things as wanting to KILL someone over an innocuous remark.”

“You want to do that, too?” Deirdre questioned with wide eyes.

“Every woman does at times.” Jessica chuckled as she patted the other’s hand. “The trick is not letting our men know that until they’ve married us.”

“What happens after the — marriage?” Deirdre hesitated at the word and concept with her as the bride.

“I understand that our men learn far faster than we were led to believe.” The blonde giggled.

“Gods help me.” Deirdre muttered.

“Gods help Garret.” Jessica corrected.

“Garret doesn’t need any help, thank you.” The dark haired beauty who had been an unsuspecting boy several weeks before grumped while checking her scarlet, black trimmed gown in a nearby mirror with a sigh. “Damn, a month ago I wouldn’t have imagined trying to wear something like this, let alone move around without damaging things in my path.”

“You’re doing fine, dear.” Jessica smirked as she swung her full skirts to emphasize their volume. “Just stay away from little knick-knack tables if you and Garret are invited to an after the Ball party.”

“How do you do that?” Deirdre narrowed her eyes as she asked that, since a table holding some delicate glassware was within reach of Jessica’s skirts.

“Practice, honey.” Jessica grinned. “I’ve had years to learn just how much room I need to do something like that. You’ll pick it up in time, trust me. You’re already doing very well considering that you never wore a formal gown before today.”

“I may never do that again, either.” Deirdre grumbled, trying to imitate the move her friend had just done and knocking the glassware to the carpet. With a grimace, she eyed the fallen ornaments and the table they had been on. “At least I didn’t break anything.”

“A bit less swing, and a little more twirl, would help.” The blonde girl offered.

“Swing, twirl, trip… What do I know?” Deirdre answered with a sigh.

“You’re learning, little sister.”

“That worries me, too, you know.”

Jessica only laughed cheerfully in response to that.

* * * *

Sir Alomar Dumont of Ilseaa, gave Deirdre a brilliant smile. “Ah, M’lady, if I wasn’t already betrothed to my beloved Jessica I would work to give Garret some competition for your favors.”

Dierdre gave the tall, dark haired knight a skeptical look, smiled then asked Garret. “Dear, are ALL your friends as full of it as you are?”

Alomar and Garret both laughed and nodded as they said. “Probably.”

“Where is PMS when you need it?” She grumbled then gave both the men a brilliant smile.

“Ahh, I like her, Garret!” Alomar grinned.

“I’m doomed.” Deirdre grumped.

“Don’t worry, dear.” Jessica laughed. “I’ll run interference for you with Alomar. Now with Garret, you’re on your own.”

“But he’s your brother!” Deirdre protested. “You should know all the weak spots he has!”

“For me to know and you to learn, little sister.” The other grinned.

“Like I said.” Deirdre let out a sigh. “I’m doomed.”

* * * *

By the time they arrived, the ballroom was already full of people. Ladies in brilliantly colored and accented gowns, and their men folk in clothing that was nearly as stunning. Deirdre gave the floor below them a worried look, then braced herself for the herald’s announcement of their arrival. The expected, and dreaded ‘Lady Deirdre’ hardly made her flinch at all this time.

“You’re doing better with this, dear.” Garret approved.

“I’m just numb.” Deirdre retorted. “Give me a while, it will sink into my poor befuddled brain, and I’ll run screaming from the whole thing.”

“Oh, I doubt that, Lady.” Alomar chuckled. “You don’t strike me as one who would ever run from anything at all.”

“You’d be surprised, sir.” She tartly returned with a roll of her eyes. “Some things you just don’t fight. You run, and hope they don’t catch up with you before you get a handle on them and are able to beat them.”

“Ahh, so you consider this to be a battle, then dear Lady?” Alomar questioned carefully while assisting Jessica down the stairs.

“I’m supremely hampered for a physical battle sir, even if I am armored enough to give a battering ram pause.” Deirde said while clinging to Garret’s arm and gingerly negotiating the seemingly endless stairway. “I fear in a battle of wits, I only come half armed at the moment.”

“Oh, now that I doubt, little lady!” Alomar answered with a chuckle. “You seem to possess far more wit than many successful diplomats I’ve known.”

“Oh, trust me on that sir.” She grumbled. “Only a halfwit would have gotten themselves into the position I’m in just now. And I’m being generous with that assessment.”

“Little sister.” Jessica put in with a chuckle. “Keep on protesting your involvement with Garret, and the act that you don’t care if you’re his lady or not. That will get his defenses lowered so you can strike with your nets at the proper moment.”

“I thought you were supposed to be my friend.” Deirdre glared at the other lady while saying that.

“I am, dear, I am!”

“Interesting lady you’ve found for yourself here, Garret.” Alomar quietly told the other man.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Deirdre grumped to no one in particular and to the general amusement of her companions.

“Garret knocked you down during the tournament didn’t he?” She questioned with narrowed eyes and a speculative expression on her face.

“That he did, m’lady.” Alomar said with a small sigh of embarrassment. “Though seeing you and knowing that the prize he fought for was such a gem…”

“Garret?” Deirdre asked as sweetly as she could manage.

“Yes, my darling?”

“I might forgive you for all this if you’d knock Sir Alomar down the rest of these stairs about now. It would be entirely by accident, of course. I’d vouch for you.”

* * * *

An hour later, Alomar — who hadn’t been knocked down the remaining stairs but had been thoroughly amused by the idea that Garret’s young lady was already using her wiles to get what she wanted — cut in on a dance Deirdre was enduring with a not so young lordling with hands faster and more intrusive than she thought no one but a master thief should have.

“Thank you, Alomar.” Deirdre actually gave the man a weak smile when she said that, then glared long, sharply pointed daggers at the ‘gentleman’ the knight had replaced as her dancing partner.

“All part of the service, my dear.” Alomar answered with a grin. “I usually rescues ladies in distress, but in this case I do believe I was rescuing that bore.”

“Yeah, I’d already gotten clumsy twice and stepped on his toes.” The dark haired beauty let out a sigh of frustration as she answered. “Would you believe his shoes are armored? I was just about to resort to a very un-accidental elbow applied sharply in an upwards motion just beneath his ribs.”

“Though I applaud your determination, dear lady that would have been more than a bit unfortunate since the ‘gentleman’ is the eldest son of the Ankarrian Ambassador.” Alomar answered with a deep chuckle. “You could have precipitated a diplomatic incident of unpleasant proportions if you’d done that.”

“Well.” Deirdre retorted. “If he’d grabbed me in the wrong spot one more time, I guess I’d just have had that on my record in addition to giving the lady Bridgette a black eye. Okay, two black eyes, and I tried to choke her to death with her own hairpiece. But she deserved it! And he would have deserved whatever I could manage to do to him, too!”

“Oh yes, the famous fountain fight.” Alomar nodded as he answered, then grinned. “I do wish I could have been there to see that one.”

“You’re laughing at me now.”

“Oh, far from it, Deirdre.” Alomar’s eyes twinkled as he answered. “I’m applauding you, and admiring the spitfire my friend has for a lady while being very glad Jessica is a bit more sedate.”

“Huh!”

“I’ll return you to the safety of your beloved’s embrace, or at least close presence.” Alomar told her with another grin. “It seems our dance is finished.”

* * * *

Laddin Summis, soon to be lord of Cardasia in the neighboring nation ofAnkarria and currently son of the ambassador to the wealthy and powerful city state of Jhalmar, was rubbing one of his feet when a familiar voice intruded on his internal swearing.

“It would appear, my lord that you are in some discomfort.” The man, who chose to remain nameless but had access to a very full purse that helped fund Laddin’s gambling habit smirked while watching the young nobleman quickly put his foot back to the floor.

“That little bitch nearly broke my foot with her heel.” Laddin sighed then shook his head in reluctant admiration. “Three times, I might add.”

“I take it you — umm — sampled her assets?” The other questioned with a chuckle.

“Oh, that I did.” Laddin nodded with a smirk. “And fine assets they are, too, even if a bit underdeveloped yet. I imagine when she comes into maturity she will be quite breath taking in form as well as in feature. Though she’ll probably still be a bitch who doesn’t appreciate a gentleman’s attentions.”

“Then you are convinced that Deirdre is a woman?”

“My friend, whoever told you that young lady is really a boy was misleading you.” Laddin answered with a grin. “When I pressed too closely into her skirts to check that, I thought she was going to gouge out one of my eyes with one of her dainty little nails. But she only trampled my instep with her heel again.”

“Well, perhaps this will soothe that pain.” The other chuckled and smoothly slid a pouch full of coins into the other’s pocket. “A warm soak in healing salts would probably be a good idea, too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, my friend.” Laddin nodded then let out an exaggerated sigh. “Now, though, I must mingle again. Though I do think I’ll avoid the Lady Deirdre for the rest of the evening.”

“Just as well.” The other agreed then added. “She already has a reputation as a spitfire of epic proportions.”

“I noticed.” Laddin grumbled to empty air. His companion had faded into the crowd.

* * * *

“Ooooh, I wanted to gut that man with my fingernails!” Dierdre fumed once she had rejoined Garret and Jessica in the comfortably overstuffed chairs grouped at the edge of the ballroom floor.

“A lady does not say that kind of thing aloud, dear.” Jessica informed her then ruined the seriousness of her pronouncement with a deep throated chuckle. “Though I daresay most of us have thought such things on more than one occasion.”

“Can I help it if I’m honest?” Deirdre shrugged then glowered at that ambassador’s son who was moving gracefully through the crowd, but across the room from them. “At least he’s limping.”

“Uh, why would you take such pleasure in that?” Garret carefully questioned.

“Because each time he touched a place he shouldn’t have, I got clumsy and stepped on his foot, hard, and right on the arch.” The raven haired hellion grinned nastily. “Got the misbegotten whatever he is four times.”

“It’s a wonder the poor man is still able to walk.” Alomar put in with a smirk of his own. “I saw one of those ‘dainty mistakes’ and trust me, Garret, if the lady wasn’t so petite she would have flattened the fellow’s foot in one try.”

“He deserved a good swift kick to the…”

“Deirdre!” Jessica warned. “Ladies do not say things like that.”

“Like what?” The girl/boy grumpily asked. “I’m NOT a lady, and you know that as well as I do, Jess.”

“Oh, you’re a lady, all right.” Jessica countered. “Just one who tends to be a bit more direct in her retaliations and recounting of them than most of us are.”

“So what’s wrong with that?” Deirdre asked almost innocently.

“My friend.” Alomar wrapped an arm around Garret’s shoulder, and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “You have a handful in this one.”

Deirdre tossed her head, let out a sigh, and glared at Alomar. Then softened that with a grin that refused to stay hidden as she chuckled. “Damned right I am, Alomar, and I don’t intend to change anytime soon, either.”

“Oh, please don’t do that.” Alomar bowed while taking the dark haired beauty’s hand and placing a gentle kiss on its palm. “I’m sure that life would be far more dull if you did. Besides, my friend here really needs a hard woman to keep him in line.”

Garret snorted the wine he had just taken a drink of through his nose and Deirdre was busy for the next few minutes with a napkin and cold water getting the stain off his coat before it set, and laughing merrily as she did that. “You can blow your own nose. You’re a big boy, Garret.”

Taking the clean napkin she handed him, Garret did so then gave her a mournful look. “You are a hard woman, you know that?”

“Not yet.” Deirdre grinned. “But I’m practicing.”

“Trust me.” Garret answered drily. “You don’t need any more practice. And how is it that the number of ‘accidental’ steps to the ambassador’s son’s instep seems to keep growing as the tale goes on?”

“Well…” Deirdre shrugged with the innocent expression of a cat in the same room with an empty canary cage. “I may have played down the times I stepped on the … lord’s foot in the first telling. His hands were very, very busy during that dance.”

“Should I call the man on that?” Garret asked, quite seriously and with a dangerous glint in his eye that Deirdre had never seen before.

“See how he’s limping?” Jessica pointed out before Garret might do something to truly foul Jhalmar’s relations with Ankarria. “I do believe the poor man is going to be paying for his wandering hands for more than a few days.”

“True, Garret.” Alomar chuckled as he gave Deirdre a glance that was a mix of admiration and wariness. “You’re lady may be petite, but she packs a pretty good wallop when she wishes to do so.”

Recalling the chamber pot in the carriage, Garret let out a sigh, released the building anger, and managed to chuckle. “Oh, trust me, I’ve learned that already.”

“Got to keep our rowdy men in line, right Deirdre?” Jessica smirked while she watched her future sister-in-law and her brother.

“Chamber pots are good for that.” Deirdre answered with a little laugh at Garret’s wince.

“Empty or full?” Jessica asked.

“Take your choice, but I’d go with empty unless you have someone around to clean up the mess right away.”

“And she swears she isn’t a woman.” Garret opined. “Hits me with a chamber pot but makes sure its empty beforehand so she doesn’t have a mess to deal with.”

“I can find a chamber pot around here, I’m sure.” Deirdre threatened.

“See what I mean?” Garret plaintively asked the others to general laughter.

* * * *

“Now we mingle, Deirdre.” Garret informed the uncertain young beauty on his arm. “Please just smile, be pleasant even if that does seem to be something foreign to your disposition lately, and promise not to snarl at anyone.”

“Snarl?” Deirdre shook her head slight which sent waves of motion through her elaborately styled hair, shoulders, and newly acquired anatomy. “Me?”

“You.” He affirmed with a grin. “Though I find that characteristic endearing and something of a challenge, polite society would frown on you doing so very much in public.”

“You take all the fun out of things, you know that?” She grumped.

“Such are the burdens of nobility.” He answered with a little smirk and light slap to her bottom.

“Garret!”

“I take my fun where I can get it, m’lady.” He answered with a straight face.

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Ten
 By Maggie Finson
 
How Much Longer Do I Put Up With This?

or, Does Gritting my Teeth Count as a Smile?

 

Cedric King of Jhalmar chuckled quietly between formal presentations as he observed Deirdre’s dance with Laddin, and her ‘clumsiness’ during that dance.

“What has you amused tonight, dear?” Evaine, his wife and Queen questioned then added. “Since you always have detested these events it must be something noteworthy.”

“Oh, just Garret’s little hellion determinedly stomping at Laddin’s foot.” Cedric answered with a grin. “Every time the young man gets more — umm — familiar than the lady likes, she ‘accidentally steps on the arch of his foot, then apologizes profusely from the look of things.”

“And how many times has Deirdre gotten so clumsy?” Evaine raised an eyebrow and her eyes twinkled.

“At least three that I’ve seen.” Cedric kept grinning as he said that. “But from the way the poor lad is favoring that foot, I would venture a guess that there were at least two others I didn’t see.”

“Good for her.” Evaine approved with a chuckle of her own, then schooled her expression into the serious one most people seemed to expect of monarchs. “That boy has needed more than just his foot stamped on since he learned the difference between boys and girls. Now we have more well wishers, so smile, make nice, and please don’t growl at them. I thought the Lady Bridgette was going to soil her gown when she and Roric paid their respects to us.”

* * * *

Deirdre let out an exaggerated sigh when Garret offered his arm. “Do we really have to do this part?”

“Yes.” The knight answered with a shrug. “Mingling is part of being noble, at least in Jhalmar. Now stop pouting and come along. Besides, Mother and Father don’t really bite. That’s simply a convenient fiction to keep the riff raff away from them.”

“Gods.” Deirdre muttered as she accepted the man’s arm and allowed him to lead her back into the riotously colored throng she had gotten free of not so long ago. “I’m not even a real girl and already he’s taking me to meet mama!”

“Mother will like you, and I’m sure Father will be absolutely charmed when he meets you.” Garret assured then quietly put in. “Providing you get the thunderclouds out of your expression.”

“Oh, I’ll be nice, I promise.” The petite, raven haired beauty grumbled, then carefully put an obviously false smile along with a vacuous expression that anyone who knew her would find hilarious in the extreme.

Garret was not immune, but he did manage to give her a reproving look before bursting into laughter.

* * * *

“Mother, Father.” Garret bowed gracefully to the distinguished, and regal couple he had nearly had to drag Deirdre to meet. “May I present my betrothed, the Lady Deirdre of Jhalmar?”

Deirdre ruthlessly quelled her urge to run screaming from the meeting, managed to perform the most graceful curtsey she’d managed yet, and greeted the pair with respectfully lowered eyes. “My Lord, My Lady.”

“Deirdre.” Garret turned towards her and gently lifted her chin so was looking directly at the couple. “My father, Galland, Duke of Chalmnessa, and my mother, Grace, Duchess of Chalmnessa.”

“Charmed, and I am so pleased to meet you at last, dear.” Grace broke the stretching silence as she moved forward to take Deirdre’s hands in her own. “Galland and I have heard so much about you. It is a pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh.”

Deirdre accepted the greeting, and the contact with a brilliant smile for the still lovely matron. “Thank you, my lady. I hope everything you’ve heard isn’t too bad.”

“Only that you have a temperament that well suits my son and his needs in a wife.” Grace smiled, then gave Deirdre a quick little wink. “Garret does require a strong hand at times.”

“Mother!” Garret shook his head and sighed.

“Oh, stop protesting, Garret.” The woman laughed quietly. “I’ve pitied the girl you finally settled down to marry. That is until I heard of your present lady’s escapades. I have to tell you that so far I approve of her.”

“If, you’ll forgive my asking.” Deirdre gave the mother and son both quick looks then went on without waiting for the deep breath she really wished to take. “What exactly have you heard about me?”

“That you are beautiful, graceful, and will not take unnecessary guff from anyone.” Grace answered almost serenely then flashed a mischievous little grin. “I do wish I’d been here for that ‘discussion’ you had with Roric’s woman, I refuse to call that one a lady at all.”

“Oh, that.” Blushing, Deirdre actually shrugged. “Does everyone in the kingdom know about that? And she deserved everything I gave her!”

“I have no doubt of that at all, dear.” Grace laughed then added. “I won’t ask if you really did try to feed her that hairpiece she always wears. I’ve heard about that enough as it is with some of the local biddies warning me about my future daughter-in-law. I’ll just tell you that you shouldn’t have stopped.”

“I got thrown in the fountain. Twice.” Deirde sighed while answering. “That kind of distracted me.”

“I can see how that would happen.” Grace nodded with a grin that vanished as she looked past Deirdre’s shoulder. “And speaking of… Damn, I had hoped those two would decide to ignore us tonight.”

“Uncle. Aunt.” A cultured baritone greeted Garand’s parents as Deirdre turned to see Bridget on the arm of young man who’s smile held nothing of friendliness in it. The man seemed to be trying to dissect her with his eyes and Deirdre disliked him on sight.

“Roric.” Galland nodded. “I trust you are well?”

“As always, uncle.” The man nodded with a thin smile.

“And your father?” Grace put in without actually greeting the fellow. “How is his health?”

”Failing, I fear.” Roric shook his head and put on a worried expression that Deirdre knew right away was false. “He sends his love to both of you, and to you, Garret.”

“Tell your father that we are thinking of him.” Grace answered then addressed Roric’s lady. “Bridget. I hope you are well?”

“Oh yes, m’lady.” Bridgette responded as she gave a minimal curtsey while glaring at Deirdre. “I am very well, thank you.”

“M’lord.” Bridgette did the same with Garrand, then turned to Garret. “And you, cousin. I trust you are doing well?”

“Not a cousin yet, Bridgette.” Garret answered while taking her hand and placing a perfunctory kiss on its back. “But, yes, I’m doing quite well, thank you. You have met my own lady, Deirdre, haven’t you?”

Bridgette nearly let her pleasant expression fall, but managed to nod towards Deirdre. “Oh, yes, and I look forward to seeing the lady again. Hello Deirdre.”

“Your hair is lovely.” Deirdre told the other with a wicked smile then added. “You must tell me who does your makeup, you are looking quite good this evening.”

“Did you give her that black eye?” Grace leaned over and whispered, then grinned when Deirdre nodded.

“I’ll be sure to introduce you to her.” Bridgette answered with a smile that went no further than her lips. “I’m sure you’ll be delighted to have her at you’re your disposal in times to come.”

“Possibly.” Deirdre smiled as she pointedly glanced at the fountain in the ballroom. “I see the swelling has gone down, at least.”

“Yes.” Bridgette gave a smile laced with venom then shrugged. “But there are many ways to take care of allergies like the one that attacked me.”

“I’m sure there are.” Deirdre nodded in mock concern then added. “Just be careful that the cure doesn’t aggravate the allergy. That has been known to happen often enough.”

Roric had been watching Deirdre through the exchange, and his regard made her skin crawl. He finally took his lady’s arm with a smile that promised bad things for Deirdre. “It has been a pleasure, but I fear we should move on to other people now. My compliments on your lady, Garret.”

“I do NOT like that man.” Deirdre quietly told Garret once the couple had moved on.

“Better that you don’t trust him, or allow him near you.” Garret answered. “He means you harm, my love.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Deirdre answered then shuddered. “But I would harm him too, given the chance.”

“Me, too.” Garret agreed then added the caution. “Just be wary from now on. My cousin liked what he saw when he looked at you, and he isn’t known for being gentle with anyone who catches his eye.”

“Thanks for the warning.” Deirdre answered then watched the pair who had just taken their leave with a speculative expression that didn’t bode well for future encounters. “But I noticed without it.”

“That venomous bitch Brigitte seems to have plans in store for you, too.” Grace put in. “I wouldn’t let her get behind me if I were you, dear.”

“I don’t plan on that happening anytime soon, or ever.” Deirdre replied as she suppressed a shudder while watching the objects of their conversation moving farther away.

“See that you don’t, please.” Grace answered with a frown then turned to Garret. “Have you arranged to secure your young lady’s safety, my son?”

“Yes, mother, as Jessica has done, too.” Garret assured the woman.

“Just how many bodyguards disguised as servants did you saddle me with?” Deirdre questioned with a small frown.

“Only enough to see that you sleep in safety.” Garret assured her then thoughtfully added. “And to see that your food and drink aren’t — tainted.”

“Why don’t you just say poisoned and be done with it?” Deirdre grumbled. “I’ve nearly poisoned myself with my own cooking in the past, anyway.”

“That was accidental wasn’t it?” Grace questioned with a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“I’m supposed to be irascible, crazy, and have a temper — according to the palace gossips.” Deirdre shrugged. “I’m NOT suicidal, really! Just a lousy cook.”

“Well, its fortunate then that you won’t be required to do any cooking in the future, isn’t it?” Grace chuckled.

“Very.” Deirdre agreed a bit tartly then grinned. “But I could test just how hardy your son actually is if I were turned loose in a kitchen, I’m sure.”

“She’s quite dangerous with chamber pots, as well.” Garret put in with a smirk then winced as his lady carefully set a heel on the toes of his highly polished boots but went on. “I fear for anyone who does manage to kidnap her if they are foolish enough to leave one of those in her prison. I have the lumps to attest to her skill in wielding those.”

“Keep it up, sirrah.” The dark haired beauty at his side answered sweetly. “I know there are several nice ones waiting in my chambers and have discovered where the ones in yours are kept, too.”

“Peace, dearest.” Garret carefully moved his foot out from under her heel while making placating gestures. “Good chamber pots are expensive.”

“I’ve only dented one, you know.” She answered with an injured tone then brightened. “But that’s the one I missed you with.”

* * * *

Garret’s parents were interesting, and enjoyable company for the hour the couple spent with them before moving off to circulate again.

“Oh, joy.” Deirdre grumbled as Garret led her away from the older couple. “More mingling and getting stared at, mentally undressed, and all that.”

“You’re doing great.” The knight assured her as they threaded their way through the crowd milling around the dance floor itself. “Just keep smiling and relax. This is supposed to be fun, you know.”

“Define fun.” She responded with a slight grimace. “Some people think a visit to the dungeon is fun, you know.”

“This is nowhere at all comparable with a visit to a dungeon.” Garret countered with a grin.

“Easy for you to say.” Deirdre grumbled. “You aren’t being ogled by every male in the building old enough to know the difference between boys and girls.”

“Well…” Garret countered with a smirk. “Not that I’m bragging here, but the females in the gathering are doing the same to me.”

“Not the same.” She shot back. “They aren’t planning on ways to get you alone and… oh, never mind, they probably are given the way people around here seem to be.”

Garret laughed at that and gave her a hug.

“It isn’t funny.” She snorted while trying to hold back a grin. “At least you can defend yourself against the women.”

“Dear.” Garret answered imperturbably. “There is no real defense for a man who has a determined female chasing him with evil intent. Though you are far from helpless in this either.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” She grumped then gave yet another well wisher a smile that was beginning to appear more than a bit strained. “I need to get out of here, Garret.”

Giving her a long, careful look, the knight nodded. “All right, I can see that you are just about at the end of your endurance here. That desperate gleam in your eyes is getting a bit frantic. We’ll need to say our goodbyes, and pay our respects to their majesties then we can go.”

“Let’s make it fast.” Deirdre told him with a little shudder. “I don’t think I can take much more of all the stares tonight.”

“So I see.” He nodded, guiding her towards the royal dais. “Just hold things together until we say our goodnights to their majesties, can you do that?”

“Only just.” She gritted out. “I’m about ready to have a screaming fit here.”

“Another few minutes, dear.” Garret cajoled. “Then we can leave, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

One more look at her pale face, and the rigid set of her shoulders convinced him. “Five more minutes and we’re out of here. That’s a promise.”

* * * *

Deirdre shook herself, then moved away from Garret once they had reached her apartments and the servants had moved away to get them refreshment. “That was a disaster.”

“I thought you did very well, dear.” Garret answered and was stopped from saying much of anything else by a dainty hand right in front of his face.

“Don’t call me that!” Hair flying out of its elaborate style as she shook her head, Deirdre glowered at the man then acted as if she was going to slap him. “This is all your fault! You and that damned prophecy!”

“What?”

“Don’t play stupid with me, Garret dear.” She nearly shouted. “I never wanted to be a lady, let alone a girl and now look at me! I couldn’t pass for a boy if I tried any longer! I know I made an agreement with you, and others, but I never in my life expected things to turn out this way!”

“Uhh.”

“Just LOOK at me, dammit!” She screamed while clenching her hands into fists and pounding against her skirted hips. “I look like a woman, I dress like a woman, I sound like a woman, and worse, I have breasts now! I should have run the other direction and kept going the day of the tournament when you chose me! Or skewered you with your own sword once you had me up on your horse with you!”

“Deirdre…”

“No.” She warned him. “Don’t interrupt me here, I’m not near finished and I intend to get everything said here and now.

I went along with everything you wanted, that Jessica, my sister, and Katrina told me I needed to do to get through this year long farce of a courtship!” She grated out then drew in a breath for another tirade. “What have you had done to me? Things slipped into my food and drink to shape me physically into a person who should be a bride instead of a groom at a wedding? Or is it that idiot prophecy that I keep hearing about?

Which reminds me, darling.” Her eyes took on a decidedly manic and slightly dangerous gleam as she hissed out that last word before rushing on. “If you knew about that prophecy, and what it would do, how could you in good conscience even think of choosing some gullible boy for it to turn inside out, upside down, and shake the life out of?!! Not to mention the LITTLE detail of taking any hope of manhood from him while turning the poor mark into what looks like a beautiful girl?”

“Deir…”

“Oh, just shut up and leave me alone.” She interrupted what he was going to say tiredly. “I’m going to my bed chamber and I expect to be left alone! Got that?”

“Perfectly.” Garret managed to get in before she spun around, flounced out of the receiving chamber and entered her bedroom. Her exit was punctuated by a solid slam of the door and a scream of feminine rage.

“Garret!” Jessica rushed into the room and looked around. “Where’s Deirdre?”

“She’s…” His answer was halted momentarily by a loud thud, a scream of pain mixed with rage, and clattering crash. Wincing, he finished. “Indisposed?”

Jessica nodded and looked towards the closed off bedchamber as sounds of things being shoved against the door, various thuds, crashes, and curses emanated from it. “This sounds a bit more serious than simply being indisposed. What did you do to her?”

“Everything, evidently.” Garret shrugged then let out a heavy sigh. “She — and that’s the real problem here, I think, the she instead of he finally overwhelmed her — was quite vocal, and managed to cram more reasons into several minutes than I thought was possible for anyone to do.”

“Hmm.” Jessica closed her eyes in response to yet another series of crashes, thuds, and the sound of breaking glass. “It might be best to let her get it out of her system for a while.”

“I won’t argue with that sentiment.” Garret gave the direction of Deirdre’s bedroom a wary look and shook his head. “Truthfully, I’d worry about sending armed guards in there just now.

Another enraged scream was followed by several crashes and the tinkling of broken glassware or pottery as he went on fatalistically. I think she’s down to the vases now.”

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Eleven
 By Maggie Finson
 
Reconciliation

or, I Didn’t buy Into This But I Seem to be Stuck with it

 

Reconciliation

or, I Didn’t buy Into This But I Seem to be Stuck with it

“I’m really worried about her.” Garret looked towards the door to Deirdre’s bedchambers — thankfully quiet now, but that was worrisome, too. “She was doing so well for a while, then suddenly went berserk.”

“It isn’t your fault, brother.” Jessica tried to reassure him. “You had no more control over what has been happening than she has. The problem here is that she has finally understood that she is powerless to stop what is happening and that she will never be able to go back to what she was.”

“That’s why I’m so worried.” He answered quietly. “I never intended to cause this kind of pain to anyone, especially not to Deirdre.”

“You haven’t caused this, brother dear.” Jessica told him while giving him a hug. “You’re caught up by the prophecy as fully as Deirdre is. Neither of you has been given a real choice in what has happened. So tell me. Do you love her?”

“Why else would I be so worried and feeling so guilty about what’s happened?” He shot back, then relaxed and returned her hug. “I’m head over heels in love with her, and am afraid that she hates me.”

“You need to explain to her that you’re as much a victim of this prophecy as she is then.” Jessica flatly told him. “Tell her that you were irresistibly drawn to Derek even though you tried to fight that, and that your choosing him after the tournament was something you couldn’t stop even if you’d wished to.”

“Would she believe me?” Garret asked plaintively then went on. “I don’t believe it, and I’ve known about this Gods be damned prophecy since I reached puberty. Why couldn’t I just have been meant to find a real girl with the qualities Deirdre has?”

“I don’t know, brother.” Jessica answered softly. “But what is, is. You both need to accept the status quo and move on.”

“Easy for you to say that.” He retorted. “I have to face her after this, and there is no way she is going to believe that I’m as caught up in the magic as she is. You already know how she is.”

“I know that she is a highly intelligent young lady who doesn’t simply accept things she’s told no matter who gave her the information.” Jessica sighed. “She’ll realize that you’re telling her the truth if you have the backbone to tell her, and be able to accept that.”

“Oh, I have the backbone to do that.” He answered quietly. “But how do I handle the fact that she’s finally realized that she won’t ever be able to go back to being Derek? An apology won’t work, I can tell you that much without going into it any further.”

“Just tell her that you’re as much a victim of this prophecy as she is.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll believe that one.” He snorted.

“It’s the truth, so she will believe it eventually.” Jessica shrugged. “Until then all you can do is love her and let her know that you do. She’ll respond in time.”

“We’ve been so damned sure of all this up to now.” Shaking his head, Garret let out a long, heavy sigh. “Everyone was just so certain things were going to turn out perfectly. No one ever considered Deirdre’s feelings when all these plans to get her inserted into palace life were being made.”

“The fact that she does have feelings that weren’t put in her mind is a good sign, brother.” Jessica gave him a slow smile. “She will be a mate fit for you, and is potentially the answer to a lot of problems the kingdom as a whole isn’t aware of.”

“But first.” Garret responded. “She needs to accept what has happened to her, and understand that I had nothing to do with it other than to be there when her cusp arrived.”

“Trust in yourself and your honesty.” Jessica told him. “She will see both in a new light after tonight, I’m sure.”

* * * *

Deirdre stared at the one mirror in her chambers that she hadn’t shattered.

What she was seeing put an end to any hope she had ever held about going back to being Derek.

“I didn’t agree to this happening!” She sobbed while looking over the now unclothed, and very female image she saw in that mirror. “I — I’m a woman now.”

The reflection looking desolately back at her confirmed that. The gown, voluminous petticoats, and other underwear had been shed, and the nude form remaining left no doubt that Deirdre was a woman.
And a very beautiful one at that.

Thick, glossy raven hair tumbled across her shoulders and down her back with exuberance she couldn’t share. The midnight black curls and waves reached down to her nicely rounded buttocks that drew the eye to the soft swell of female hips and smooth, elegantly shaped legs.

Her waist was narrow and higher than a male’s would be, and looking at that led her unwilling eyes to the swell of firm, beautiful breasts that promised much delight to the man who won her affections. As if she was ready to even think about something like that.

Her face was perfect. A smooth oval, with even, delicate features dominated by large ice blue eyes framed by thick, curling raven lashes and surmounted by beautifully arched brows. If Derek had seen this vision before all the upset since he’d gone to that tournament, he would have been in simple awe.

But this unapproachable beauty was him! Or her as the most disturbing part of the reflection showed. Where once the triple badges of manhood had reigned, there was nothing. Or rather something that had no relation to what had been.

“No.” Trembling, Deirdre reached down to tentatively explore the new terrain of her crotch. Folds of flesh concealing an opening, far from the admittedly small cock and balls she had once possessed, but quite emphatically female. Derek had seen the same more than once with the close quarters he’d shared with his sister and mother. But to see that kind of thing residing in his — her — own crotch was almost too much to bear.

Reluctant fingers, slimmer than they had been before, slowly parted those folds of flesh to reveal the opening behind them and the tiny nub that her penis had become. “Nooo.”

Still, unwilling fingers probed beyond that, to discover a channel, a warm, moist tunnel, that shouldn’t be part of Derek’s anatomy, but was quite normal for Deirdre.

“I’ve turned into a woman.” She closed her eyes and let the tears run down her cheeks without trying to quell them. “This wasn’t what I was told would happen, that I could go back to being Derek after this year was finished. Now that is never going to happen.”

“Why?!!” She screamed, and started throwing things again, this time smashing the mirror that implacably showed what she had become.

* * * *

“She’s started in again.” Garret needlessly told his sister with a worried look at the still closed door. “I wish she’d come out of her chambers and take that out on me.”

“It isn’t your fault, Garret.” Jessica softly told him.

“Then why is it that I feel like it is?” He miserably responded.

“You love her.”

“But does she love me in return?” He questioned.

“I think so.” Jessica smiled sadly. “She just has to get past the realization that she’ll never be able to go back to being Derek right now, that can’t be easy.”

“No, I don’t imagine it is.” He sighed. “I know I couldn’t handle what has happened to her.”

“You weren’t intended to.” Jessica answered simply. “You are supposed to love her, and know how to handle all her tempers. And trust me brother, your lady is going to be a handful.”

“Gods DAMN that prophecy and the magic that shrouds it!” Throwing the cup he had been drinking from against the wall with enough force to bend the simple iron, Garret shook his head. “It is causing more pain for us than anyone should be expected to endure.”

“Tempering, like a good smith does with fine steel.” Jessica reached out and set a hand on her brother’s shoulder, squeezing it in a comforting gesture. “In time both of you will thank that prophecy for what it did, I’m sure.”

“Why did I have to get a real witch for a sister?” Garret muttered then smiled at Jessica to soften that question and its implications.

“I can no more help what I am than you and Deirdre can.” Jessica returned the smile a little sadly. “It has been my burden to understand the prophecy and its magic since I was old enough to know the differences between boys and girls went beyond the way they dressed or were expected to act.”

“Then why didn’t you warn me?” He asked with pain clear in his voice.

“It would have changed nothing, dear one.” Jessica gave him a sad look and shook her head. “Telling you would only have served to have you agonizing over things you had no control over long before they started happening.”

“For some reason, that doesn’t make me feel any better about all this just now.”
“It shouldn’t.” Jessica told him. “Your love for Deirdre, and hers for you wasn’t foreordained, but both are very real now. Just give her time to realize that, too.”

“I bow to your superior knowledge.” He quietly told her.

“No, you bow to the inevitable love of a man and woman who were meant to be together.” Jessica firmly retorted, then grinned. “And nothing short of direct intervention from the gods can change that.”

* * * *

Deirdre, she knew she would never be Derek again, had stopped throwing things, and cried herself out on top of that. In the odd calm that she felt after the blowup, she reluctantly examined her feelings.

Was being like she was now so horrible? Honestly she had to answer no to that one. She was attractive and beyond that, something she’d never been as an undersized boy. She was beautiful, and men, though the idea of males being interested in her still seemed repugnant, were actually vying for her attention. Something girls had never done with Derek.

Would she find someone to love her as she was, without reservations or demands? Yes, she had, though the still male sensibilities she possessed tried to recoil from that idea. She knew Garret loved her. He wouldn’t have put up with her tempers if he didn’t. But that didn’t help all the much just now. She was still mourning the loss of her anticipated manhood.

Was the loss worth the gain? That took some thinking, but finally she had to admit that it was when looked at with a long view. Derek had nothing, and not one prospect for anything better other than being a dressmaker’s apprentice and eventually a dressmaker himself. Deirdre, on the other hand had Garret, the approval of his family, and elevation into the nobility along with being part of a wealthy and influential family. Influence she could use to help her mother and sister, and even friends, to attain a comfortable life at last without the constant struggle Derek had watched since he was old enough to understand things like that.

Was giving up his manhood such a high price for being sure his loved ones would no longer want for even the simple things in life?

The answer, though Derek in Deirdre tried to fight it — unsuccessfully — was a resounding yes.

Could the Derek that was adjust to being the Deirdre that is?

Probably.

Would it be easy?

No.

Could the newly minted girl do it?

Damned right she could! Deirdre was no wallflower waiting for something to reach out and invite her to do something. Deirdre was a hellion who had even the King and Queen shaking their heads in admiring amusement at some of the things she’d done so far.

Was she a Lady?

Not yet. But she was learning. Although the needlepoint kind of grated because she hated concentrating on something so inconsequential.

And lastly, but most importantly. Did she love a man?

That took some thought, but Deirdre had to admit to herself that the answer to that uncomfortable question was nothing but a definite yes. Even as Derek, she had been in love with Garret, though the masculine sensibilities Derek had been striving to preserve tried to interfere. The answer was a solid YES! With accompanying trumpets, bells, and choral arrangements.

Did the new she have to let Garret know that yet?

Nope.

She, and Deirdre knew that she was what she was now, and suspected that she always had been that way despite her one-time physical sex, was head over heels in love with the knight who had picked her out of the crowd at the tournament.

But…

Did she have to let HIM know that just yet? Really?

Hell NO!!!

Let Garret squirm a bit, like Derek had at first. Fair is fair, after all.

Still not quite accepting that the former he was now an undeniable she, Deirdre worked to forget all the adjustments that she would have to make, and chuckled evilly as she thought of the many ways she could make Garret suffer to mirror what she had gone through. Then she was overcome with remorse at having those thoughts.

But she wouldn’t change it for anything. Her love had been tested, let his go through something similar and that didn’t mean putting up with her admittedly volatile temper.

Things weren’t finished yet, but she was a bit more comfortable with what was happening. Grimacing, and muttering a few curses, Deirdre slid her feet into a pair of delicate slippers to avoid the broken glass and crockery from cutting her feet, and found a rather diaphanous robe to wrap her nakedness in.

If she was going to confront Garret, she was going to use every weapon at her disposal. Even if that was the beautiful, female body she now had. Women had used those assets before, she reasoned. So why shouldn’t I?”

Deirdre knew that it would be more than a little while before she was comfortable with her new sex and sexuality. But she intended to make the most of that discomfort and shock a few people with her public response.

She laughed softly in spite of her misgivings.

“All right.” She told the fragmented image in the broken mirror. “If I have to be a female, I’m damned sure going to be a strong one.

Still, there was the niggling doubt that she wasn’t ready to do this. And that she was still Derek under a delusional spell of some sort.

Deirdre shrugged that off. She was what she was. Protesting, fighting it, and expecting others outside of the reality she had been through to notice and call attention to the fact that ‘The Lady Deirdre of Jhalmar’ was actually an underdeveloped boy wasn’t something that anyone not intimate with the circumstances cared about, made no difference.

Sighing, she moved to shove the furniture she had slammed against the door during the height of her rage away from where she had pushed it.

Marveling at the idea that she had pushed the heavy wardrobe and counterpane against the door without hurting herself, Deirdre stared to slowly and carefully move those two large pieces of furniture from in front of the door leading to her receiving room.

“I moved these things by myself?” She asked while grunting and straining to get the pieces away from the door. At least enough for her to open it — the door opened inward — and see who was outside.

Hopefully, though she refused to admit it. Garret would be waiting in her receiving room.

* * * *

“It’s been awfully quiet in there recently.” Garret worried.

“She’s thinking about things, I’m sure.” His sister answered and gave him a hug to bolster him. “Give her time.”

“I still worry.” Garret sighed. “I’ve never known Deirdre to be so quiet.”

“She’s getting used to what she is now.” Jessica answered. “She’s known deep down for some time, but this abrupt confirmation at the ball was probably a bit more than she was willing to accept at the time.”

“Which leaves us where?” Garret questioned.

“Right now.” Jessica sighed. “I don’t have a better idea about that than you do brother.”

“You know,” Garret answered, still staring at the closed door. “That doesn’t make me feel better at all.”

* * * *

Sounds of furniture being moved came from beyond the door to Dierdre’s bed chambers.

“Is that encouraging?” Garret asked Jessica.

“Well, she isn’t screaming while she does it.” His sister replied then added. “And these sounds are a lot more deliberate than when she was throwing things.”

“Meaning?”

“She hasn’t cut off all communications.” Jessica told him then smiled. “In fact, she’s inviting more just now.”

“How do you manage to think that?”

“She’s moving things away from the door.”

“Why?” He asked. “So I’m lulled into walking into her gutting me?”

“Brother dear.” Jessica grinned. “You have no clue about what makes a woman do things. Trust me. Be there when the door opens.”

“That coming from the same person who told me The Prophecy was basically harmless.” He countered.

“Has anyone been really hurt so far? Physically, I mean?” Jessica countered with a half smile.

“No one but Derek.” Garret shot back.

“Derek would have become Deirdre whether you showed interest in the so-called boy, or not.” Jessica answered while taking a slow sip from her cup. “You were drawn to Derek, like Derek was pulled to where you would be.”

“I believe that.” Garret sighed. “But will she?”

“Eventually.” Jessica patted her brother’s shoulder. “Just give her time.”

“Time.” He shook his head. “Neither she or I have the luxury of letting time go its course now, you know that!”

“The throne will take care of itself for the time being.” Jessica calmly told him. “Cedric is far from his dotage, after all. Let the poor girl realize that she’s a girl before you throw other things at her.”

“But she’s…”

“I know, Garret, I know.” Jessica gently put her hand to his mouth. “Don’t say it aloud just now. We have more than enough complications to deal with as it is.”

His retort was stopped as the sound of the door to Deirdre’s bed chambers opening. Slowly, and not all the way, but it opened.

Garret was there when it even reached a crack that would admit light. “Deirdre! Are you all right?”

“Define ‘All right’.” A soft voice came from behind the door as one bright blue eye peered out of the narrow opening the barely opened door offered.

“Are you injured?”

“Not physically.” Deirdre replied as the blue eye continued to stare out of the barely opened door without blinking.

“Come out.” Garret pleaded. “Talk to me.”

“That hasn’t done me any good up to now.” Deirdre shot back without widening the slight opening in the door. “Why should I trust you now after what else has happened?”

“Dammit!” Garret hissed to avoid shouting. “I’m as much a victim of this damned prophecy as you are. Do you think I ever had a choice in this? I was drawn to you, like you were drawn to me!”

“So you say.” Deirdre responded, but the eye in the slight opening of the door blinked. “Prove it.”

“I’m here.” Garret was getting exasperated. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’m your legitimate claim to the seat of your father’s duchy.” She shot back. “How do I know that isn’t all you’re concerned with?”

“Dammit, woman!” Garret actually shouted. “You are impossible! How can I convince you I really love you when you constantly throw challenges at me?”

“Woman.” Deirdre answered. “That’s the problem here you know. I’m still getting used to the idea that I’m one of those instead of a boy, or man like I hoped to be once upon a time!”

“That would have never happened, Deirdre.” Garret softened his voice and let the entreaty he felt come through. “You would have become a girl whether I’d chosen you at that tournament or not. I couldn’t HELP choosing you, whether you believe that or not. I was drawn to you as you were drawn to be there for me to choose!”

“Then why didn’t you just TELL me that at the start?”

“When you were so adamant about NOT being a girl?” He asked with a trace of humor beginning to return. “I mean you scandalized the ladies waiting to prepare you properly for meeting me by claiming that you weren’t a girl, as I recall.”

“I showed them, too.” Deirdre chuckled then turned serious again. “But if you already knew all this, why didn’t you tell me at the start of things?”

“Because I would have lost you.” He answered quietly.

“Gods.” Deirdre swore softly. “You knew you loved me even then?”

“I was smitten when Jessica and I accidentally saw you in the back room in that gown.” He admitted.

“So you waited until I showed up at the tournament then picked me for your lady?” Deirdre asked then shook her head. “Wait a minute here. Why did I go to the tournament in the first place so you could find me there?”

“Don’t ask me questions I can’t answer.” Garret sighed while he shook his head. “I saw you in the stands and just knew that you were the one I was meant to choose.”

“You aren’t just telling me that, are you?” Deirdre gave him a searching look then reluctantly allowed a smile to show on her lovely face. “You had no more choice than I did!”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Garret spread his arms and opened his hands in a helpless gesture. “I saw you twice, and couldn’t get you out of my mind after the first time. When I won and could choose, I just had to pick you!”

“Someone has to know what this is all about.” Deirdre grumbled.

“Someone does.” Jessica joined them and entered the conversation. “Though I can’t really tell you all that much more just now. The magic of the prophecy is more than a little secretive about what it does. The nature of prophecies, I fear.”

“If you know anything.” Deirdre shot back. “Why did this happen to me?”

“You are the Chosen.” Jessica answered with a shrug. “Don’t ask me why, the gods choose as they will, but it’s clear that you should have been a girl from birth. This mess is simply redressing that mistake. Don’t even try to ask me why that is, I don’t know. All I can tell you is that you and my brother were fated to be together.”

“That is no help at all.” Deirdre told the woman then turned to Garret, stood, and reached for the partings of the robe she had put on before venturing out of her bed chambers. “Look at what you did, Garret.”

She pulled her robe away from her body and let it drop from her shoulders, revealing herself in glorious nudity. “THIS is what happened because of that gods be damned prophecy! Do you at least like what you see?”

Garret had nothing to say. He was, in fact, stunned beyond the capability of forming a coherent answer for a few minutes.

“LOOK at me!” Deirdre leaned forward and quietly demanded as her breasts moved seductively with her motion. “Is this what the two of you planned for me?”

Even Jessica was speechless as the newly made girl showed off her considerable assets. Deirdre moved forward to push one of her pert, full breasts into Garret’s face. “Is this what you were wanting?”

Deirdre took one of Garret’s hands and set it between her legs. “I lost something to get this. Do you think you can make that up to me? Go ahead, feel it, play with it. I haven’t had the nerve to try that yet.”

Garret yanked his hand back, well away from her crotch and shook his head. “Not until you are really willing to let me.”

“I’m willing now.” Deirdre shot back. “Go on! Take advantage of what you’ve been waiting for since we first met!”

“I — I can’t.” He told her with a helpless shrug that was very uncharacteristic for the pre-eminent knight of the realm.

“Why not?” The young woman who had been a boy so recently demanded.

“Because you’d hate me for the rest of our lives if I took advantage of you now.” He quietly told her.

“Why won’t you do it?!!” She screamed. “I’m here, I’m obviously female and I’m ready. What do you care if I hate you?”

“I care.” Garret told her, carefully gathering her into a non-sexual hug that conveyed his love, but pushed his lust far away.

“Why?” Deirdre was crying, and trying to pull away from his hug.

“I don’t know.” He answered, releasing her as she wanted, but she didn’t move away, simply stood next to him.

“Your soul was always female.” Jessica quietly entered the conversation and gently rubbed Deirdre’s shoulder. “It was meant to join with my brother’s male soul.”

“I never wanted to be a girl!” Deirdre protested.

“Neither did I.” Jessica told her. “Neither has any born female. It just happened and we deal with that. You had the misfortune to be born into a body that was the wrong sex is all. The prophecy is correcting that.”

“I can’t accept that answer!” Deirdre shouted. “I never even thought about being a girl, or even dressing up as one!”

“Neither did I.” Jessica answered with amusement clear in her voice.
“But that’s how things turned out. I handle it, so can you.”

“But you were born to it!”

“So were you, dear.” Jessica told her. “You just came out in the wrong body to be what you were meant to be.”

”This is going around in circles.” Deirdre muttered.

“Circles are power, dear one.” Jessica told her. “You have that in plenty.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“Embrace it.” Jessica answered. “The rest will come in its own good time.”

“That is no help at all.”

“It will be in time, dear sister.” Jessica gave her a hug.

Deirdre gave Garret a glare. “Don’t get your hopes up, bucko. It will be a really strange day in the Nine Hells when I actually LET you enjoy that.”

“I’m patient.” Garret answered without being put off by her announcement.

“You might try joining a monastery while you’re waiting.”

“I will be more celibate than the most pious monk while I wait for you, my love.”

“This is NOT what I had in mind at all.”

“I love you Deirdre.” Garret told her quietly.

“Go abuse yourself and forget about me.” She hopefully suggested.

“I’m saving myself for you.” He replied.

“Isn’t that what the girl is supposed to do?”

Garret leaned forward to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “It works both ways, my love.”

Glowing internally from that touch, Deirdre managed to answer. “So you say. Prove it.”

“I intend to do that.”

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Twelve
 By Maggie Finson
 
Assassins Lurk

or, Pardon Me. Did You Drop This Poisoned Dagger?

 

Dierdre glared at both Garret and Jessica then realized she was still standing in front of them without clothing. Snatching her robe up and hastily wrapping it around herself, she slowly and deliberately walked across the room to pour herself a large goblet of wine.

“I don’t know whether to trust either one of you just now.” She simply told them then moved to seat herself in a single chair facing them both. “Give me a reason — a real reason, to do that.”

“I’m afraid there isn’t much I could say to make you feel any better about all this.” Garret let out a long sigh and shook his head. “I never set out to hurt you.”

“Hmmph.” Was all the answer he got from that statement.

“Deirdre.” Jessica put in, frowning as the girl took a long draught of the wine in her cup but not berating her for that. “I can tell you in all truth that if anyone at all tried to harm you, they’d be dealing with a very angry knight in my brother. He truly loves you.”

“You.” Deirdre turned her attention to Garret’s sister. “Have known about this blasted prophecy all along. Why didn’t you at least give me a few hints regarding what was in store for me?”

“I couldn’t.” The blonde answered with an almost helpless expression on her face. “I’ll try to explain why that was if you like, but without an understanding of magic, you probably wouldn’t believe it. Especially with the frame of mind you’re in just now.”

“Try me.” The dark haired beauty who had been a boy invited with a little scowl. “I might be more open to an explanation like that than you think. Especially considering the things that have happened to me here. So go on, I’m very interested in hearing this. All of it.”

With a glance to Garret and a shrug, Jessica nodded. “All right, I’ll tell you what I can, both of you deserve to know more than either one has been told so far.”

“In my case that is nothing at all.” Deirdre grumbled.

Garret only nodded in agreement. “What I know has been more than a bit murky, too. So yes, I think it’s time for some explanations all around.”

“Well, give me a moment to figure out where to start.” Jessica began.

* * * *

In another part of the palace, Roric gave the shrouded figures gathered in the dimly lit room a disgusted look. “Are we even secure talking about this here?”

“Of course we are my lord.” One of the others answered with something like affront at the question. “We are warded against scrying and eavesdroppers. It is safe to discuss what we need to here.”

“Then tell me.” Glaring at another dark clad form, he demanded. “Why is that little bitch still alive?”

The man known to his associates only as Eel, a nondescript fellow with a build and features that would blend in anywhere shrugged, obviously unimpressed with the de-facto Baron’s displeasure. “Getting close to her isn’t an easy matter, my lord. She is guarded both physically and magically. A number of her guards are disguised as servants and are always nearby and alert.”

“I’m not interested in excuses, assassin.” Roric grated. “With what I’m paying you I expect results.”

“Which you will have.” Eel responded without rancor, or the least visible conern for his own safety because of the lord’s anger. “Matters of this nature take time to arrange.”

“Time.” Roric grunted. “Is something we are rapidly running out of here. Our allies are becoming restive already. That girl, Deirdre, alive — assures Garret’s ascension. Without her, his viability as an heir is non-existent. I want her out of the way, soon.”

“Handling nervous backers is your part of the job.” Eel answered simply. “I’m sure you can convince them that you are still the best candidate, my lord.”

“Then make certain you do your part.” Roric gave the man an even stare that would have most who knew him quailing in terror. “So I can more easily do mine.”

“Soon.” The assassin promised.

“See that you make it so.” Roric ordered. “Now, it’s late, I’m tired, and my lady is waiting.”

The others present took that as the dismissal it was, but Eel remained for a few moments. “Be at ease. I am the best, that’s why you secured my services. Take care of the details on your end, I’ll take care of those on mine. If you insist on running my part of the operation, too, I fear you’ll be looking for another specialist. And you’d find none who are up to my standards.”

“Then give me reason to trust your expertise in something other than recommendations and empty assurances.” Roric shrugged, no more concerned at the subtle threat than the assassin had been with his ire.

Eel favored the other with an unpleasant smile for a moment, nodded, and silently left the room.

* * * *

“I think Deirdre was having some problems tonight.” Evaine sighed. “And I don’t mean with louts like Laddin groping her while dancing.”

“Don’t worry, love.” Cedric answered, though he too was clearly concerned.

“It is a cause for concern, your majesties.” Harald agreed, but qualified that. “The young lady has suddenly reached the unavoidable understanding that she is a she instead of a he now. If she wasn’t reacting rather strongly to that there would, I think, be even more cause for worry.”

“Probably, Harald.” Evaine agreed after a moment. “But will she survive all this without going insane, or virulently hating everyone she feels is responsible for the change?”

“The lady, delicate flower that she is.” Harald answered with assurance. “Is a lot tougher, and stronger than anyone, herself included, thinks. She will have some rough times, but she should come through this well enough given time.”

“Speaking of time, which is a commodity that grows shorter every day.” Cedric shot a glance at the other, so far silent member of the gathering. “Do you have any more information regarding what is brewing here at that palace and elsewhere?”

Vertigan, Cedrics Spymaster nodded. “Roric has definitely contracted with an assassin to rid himself of the ‘problem’ that Deirdre represents. As to who that assassin is, I haven’t yet discovered. My sources are still digging for that.”

Sources that went well beyond the ladies of the court that the man instructed in the finer points of dance, Cedric and Evaine knew though the spymaster often joked, not altogether disparagingly, that he did acquire more than a little useful information in that capacity.

“Is Deirdre adequately protected?” Evaine questioned.

“As adequately as is possible.” Veritgan nodded. “One of my best people is serving as one of her maids, and I know that The lady Jessica’s pet assassin is posing as another. Aevestos is far from helpless in that regard, either. As major domo of the Lady’s chambers and affairs he is in an excellent position to evaluate potential threats. Not to mention that the man is more than simply competent in dealing with any of those discovered.”

“Is every member of Deirdre’s staff a former soldier, a spy, or assassin?” Evaine asked with a little distaste in her expression.

“Of course not, your majesty.” Vertigan assured her then grimaced. The duke and duchess would not allow that, even though I insisted she would be far safer if that were the case.”

“Good for Grace and Lamont.” The queen responded. “The poor girl is going to have enough trouble trusting any of us for the time being without having to learn that all her servants are actually keepers.”

“Protectors.” Vertigan corrected. “Your majesty.”

“In her position would you be able to make that distinction?” Evaine shot back, but smiled to soften that. “I know I would have trouble doing so.”

“With my background, probably, though I’d be insulted that someone thought I required such protection.” Vertigan admitted. “In her position, without my knowledge and skills, I would likely not take that information well at all.”

“Then let all of us take pains to not rub the lady’s face in the uncomfortable fact that she has more bodyguards than real servants, shall we?” Cedric suggested. “At least until things have settled down enough for her that she is able to see those specific people as the protections they are and not possible jailers.”

“It shall be so, your majesty.” Vertigan bowed. “Now, if I may, there are things that require my attention so this mess doesn’t become the disaster it holds the potential for being.”

At nods from both Cedric and Evaine, Jhalmar’s master spy left their company.

Harald also bowed his own way out. “Like Vertigan, there are things requiring my own attention. Some are even related to our potential difficulties with Deirdre and those wishing her harm.”

Once they were alone, Evaine gave her husband a searching look. “I so wish I could have provided you with an heir. You should have set me aside for one who could have. It would have avoided a lot of this trouble if you had.”

“You couldn’t help the illness that robbed you of that, love.” Cedric answered with a sigh over a subject they had been over so often the road was probably paved by now. “I couldn’t, wouldn’t do that to either you or your family.”

“We would have understood.” She softly answered.

“That may be.” Cedric tiredly answered, but it was my decision to make and I made it long ago. You are my wife, my queen, and my love. I’ll have no other, not even in name to bear a child you grieve over not being able to give me.”

“So the entire Kingdom is at risk for your love of a woman.” Evaine’s response was tart, but the love in her eyes shone at his response — again.

“Lamont’s family has legitimate claims to the throne through blood ties in both your family and mine.” Cedric reminded her. “Everyone thought an heir from that branch of both our families would be easy to find and declare. None of us expected the difficulties poor Garret has run across would develop, or that another, distasteful, but legitimate claimant for the throne would emerge at the same time those occurred. One with a clear intent to take the throne even if he is careful to skate around any direct act that would be provable treason.”

“Then I pray that Roric makes a mistake that will give him to us without rousing the surrounding duchies into an internal war that would open us to our enemies around us.”

“If not, I still have the feeling that both Garret and Deirdre are more than capable of handling him.” Cedric answered and moved to hug his wife.

“If they survive the next few months.” Evaine responded.

“We know Garret is tough, capable and no fool.” He reassured his wife. “We’ve seen clear signs that Deirdre will be no less than her future husband in those qualities.”

“Gods grant her time to become that, then.” Evaine prayed.

“They’ve already seen to that, dearest.” Cedric answered then chuckled. “As we both have been seeing and hearing since the dear lady arrived at the palace.”

“Kicking and screaming all the way.” Evaine lost her gloom and laughed. “Ah that one is going to be something sooo special, my love.”

“I’m sure Garret will discover that in good time, much to his delight.”

“You know what I mean!” Evaine elbowed him. “In things other than the bedchamber, you big oaf!”

“Speaking of the bedchamber…” Cedric lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head towards their own.

“Men!” Evaine let out a long sigh, but was smiling when she did. “Is that all you ever think about?”

“Only when in the presence of the women we love.” He shrugged.

“Then let us get that off your little mind, by all means.” She grinned.

* * * *

“I’m waiting.” Deirdre reminded Jessica as that lady assembled her thoughts and emotions to give the promised explanation then looked around the room with an odd expression on her face. “This wine doesn’t taste quite right.”

“Then put it down and get rid of the bottle it came from.” Garret told her, preoccupied with his own thoughts and impatience to hear what his sister had to say, too. He failed to note the sudden flush, then paleness in Deirdre’s face.

“Is it extra stuffy in here, tonight?” Deirdre questioned, then grimaced as a slight twinge in her stomach made itself felt.

A glance at his often recalcitrant lady turned into a rapid assessment as he took in her paleness, and the unhealthy flush in her cheeks standing out too brightly against her sudden pallor. Garret moved quickly, slapping the wine from Deirdre’s hand and shouting. “Aevestos! Get Harald and a healer in here! Now!”

Taking in the situation as rapidly as Garret had, the Major Domo, who had remained a discrete distance from the conversation didn’t take time to acknowledge that command, but pointed to two of the more trustworthy maids hovering in the vicinity. “See too it.”

As those two hurried out of the receiving chamber, he moved to join Garret. Deirdre was even paler, and seemed to have difficulty breathing. With a quick nod to himself, he ordered another anxiously hovering maid. “Get me that Boral weed I keep in the kitchens. Hurry!”

“Here.” Mina handed him the requested item, a vial of noxious appearing green/brown fluid. “I got it earlier when it was clear that the lady was in danger of drinking too much thanks to her temper.”

Grabbing the emetic, Aevestos unceremoniously took the back of Deirdre’s neck to hold her head up and forced the opened vial past her slack lips. “Drink it, lady, it will help.”

As Deirdre slowly swallowed the fluid, Jessica asked. “Where did that bottle of wine come from?”

“Not our cellars.” Mina answered with a worried look to the tableau made up of Garret, Aevestos, and an obviously very ill Deirdre. “It was a gift.”

“Who sent it?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll find out soon enough.” Mina answered.

“You’re supposed to examine everything that comes from someone,”

“I did examine it.” Mina shot back. “I swear to you, it did nothing when I tasted it, or checked for signs of tampering with the bottle.”

“The cup, then,” Jessica turned to find that.

“I personally set out the wine and cups.” Mina shook her head. “The vessels had no sign of contamination I could find, and you know how thorough I am with things like that.”

“Well, this isn’t a natural illness.” Jessica spared another glance to the trio centered by a now vomiting, moaning, and cursing Deirdre. “Even with all the upset of tonight. We need to find out what exactly caused this then see to it that it doesn’t happen again. Damn! Please be all right, Deirdre.”

“I like her too.” Mina agreed as she grimly moved towards Deirdre’s bedchambers. “Maybe something in that shambles is responsible. If that is the case, I’ll find it m’lady.”

“The sooner the better.” Jessica answered while giving the now obviously poisoned wine and the bottle it was held in a longer look. “I’ll check this magically while you’re doing that.”

“That would have been my next suggestion.” Mina threw over her shoulder as she rushed into Deierdre’s bed chambers.

* * * *

“It was a magically activated poison.” Jessica told the gathering unhappily. “Set to trigger when Deirdre touched the wine.”

“Someone would have needed something from her person to manage that.” Harald nodded thoughtfully. “Though I admit none of us even thought to guard against this kind of attack.”

“Her nail pairings, and loose hairs have been routinely burned — once they were removed from her presence.” Mina told them all. “But you all know that no matter how diligent anyone is with things like that there is always a chance that some will fall into hands that will use it for ill intent.

The servants here are very thorough.” Mina continued, and was supported by a grunt of agreement from Aevestos. “And I am more so, given my original profession.”

Garret eyed the one-time assassin, noted the steady regard she returned, and nodded with a sigh. “We know that, Mina. What we need to find out here is exactly what was used to formulate this particular poison, and hopefully, to make certain that whoever did it possesses no more of whatever was obtained to try again.”

“My own — superior-- is pursuing that line of investigation.” Bertelle put in without the normal diffidence the pretty young maid usually displayed when in the company of lords and ladies. “He will find out if anyone can.”

“I am searching for the same thing on the mystical side of things.” Harald added. Between the spymaster and myself, we should have an answer to at least that question soon.”

“Good.” Garret told them both, rather grimly, but his lady — no matter how much she might protest that title — was still in danger from the magically activated poison. “Narrowing down the suspects, just how many people in Jhalmar, or even on the continent as a whole, are capable of formulating a poison like that?”

“Not many.” Mina answered thoughtfully. “Unfortunately, those who are capable of such a thing — and no, I am not one of them — would also be adept enough at disguise that no one would be able to recognize them when they’re working. Not even those otherwise intimate with them. I can supply a few names, but that list would be far from complete, I’m afraid. I have been, how to put it here, on the target list of my old guild since my former master and I had that falling out. I’m scarcely one any of my old acquaintances would give information to.”

“Do what you can.” Garret told her, aware that the ‘falling out’ she had so casually mentioned involved the death of her one time master, and more than a few other assassins. The lack of willingness by anyone connected with that shadowy and often sinister guild to give out any information to her was as much a result of fear of both the guild and the young woman. Not to mention a very healthy respect for her abilities and known enmity with her former guild.

“I’ll do what I can.” Mina assured him, and the others. “I take something like this personally. Very personally at any time, but especially when I genuinely like the person I’m protecting. Or trying to protect.”

Everyone present found themselves almost pitying the person responsible once Mina did find out who that was. Unless they were very, very good and very lucky, their days would be numbered in the span of one hand with fingers spread.

And likely reach only the second finger of that count at best.

A cleared throat from the door to Deirdre’s bedchamber attracted the group’s attention and Alis, the King and Queen’s own healer, along with Jerome their majesties’ personal physician gave them pleased, but weary looks.

“She’s out of danger now.” Alis told everyone.

“Though it was near thing.” Jerome put in. “Whoever noticed she’d been poisoned so quickly, the young lady owes her life to you.”

“And to whoever discerned that the poison was magical in nature.” Alis added while pushing a lock of her graying blond hair away from her face. “Without that information, neither Jer or I, good as we are, could have saved her.”

“Is she conscious?” Garret asked, relief clear in his posture and expression.

“Not yet.” Alis answered tiredly. “But she’s resting comfortably and my daughter, Soo, is with her. If there is need I can be here within minutes.”

“Unless, that is.” Jerome put in with a grin. “There is a spare room available here for our use. If so our response time could be a bit longer.”

Reassured by that alone, Garret laughed in spite of his worry. “Oh, if you two believe her to be out of danger enough to do that, I think we can let you return to your own quarters for the time being.”

“If the situation changes, Soo will notify me immediately.” Alis answered with a fond smile aimed at Jerome. “Though I don’t really believe our services will be required beyond what we’ve done.”

“I’m in your debt.” Garret formally told them both. “If you ever need assistance of any kind I’m capable of giving, it is yours.”

“From me, too.” Jessica told the pair. “Deirdre is precious to both of us in far more ways than her mere potential. “If you have need, don’t hesitate to call. Unless I’m in great duress, I will answer.”

“Powerful friends we seem to be making around here.” Alis quietly told Jerome, but not quietly enough that the gathering couldn’t hear it. “But that’s all right. Just think of all the favors we’ll be able to call in at need!”

Jerome chuckled at her raised eyebrow and girlish expression of faked awe then shrugged to the others in apology. “What can I say? You all know how my wife is.”

“All the same.” Alis turned serious again. “Thank you both. Such pledges mean more to us than you might think from my casual demeanor. I was not belittling the offers, believe me.”

Once those two had departed, Garret stood. “All right. We all have things to do. Let’s get to them.”

The others left to pursue the lines of investigation they were best at, until only Garret, Jessica, and Aevestos remained in the room.

“Now what do we do?” Jessica questioned, knowing that a mage more capable than she would ever be was pursuing the only real avenue of investigation she could follow.

“You two need to eat something.” Aevestos told them without the slightest deference in his voice or stance.

“And here I thought you were done taking care of us, old friend.” Garret smiled tiredly.

“Hardly.” The man offered the first real smile he’d given since Deirdre’s poisoning. “I did, after all, promise your father I would take care of the two of you.”

“Yes, but that was when we were children.” Jessica pointed out.

“Eat.” Aevestos ordered them as maids set hot food and drink on the small table. “I know neither of you will leave this place until we’re all sure The Lady will be all right. Until that happy circumstance comes about, get used to me.”

“Again.” Garret grumbled, but he was smiling as he dug into the enticingly hot and fragrant food.

* * * *

“What?” Deirdre sat up abruptly, fending off the stranger at her bedside.

“Easy, My Lady, easy.” The young woman soothed. “I’m a healer, and have been watching over your recovery. Something I will be doing for a few days yet unless you are far more resilient than even your rather amazing constitution hints at.”

“Recovery…” Deirdre closed her eyes then snapped them open. There was a mixture of anger, fear, and real outrage in those ice blue orbs when they returned to the healer. “I was poisoned, wasn’t I?”

“Well, your memory isn’t impaired.” The young woman smiled as she gently, but firmly pressed on Deirdre’s shoulders until that lady was again reclining in her bed. “I’m Soo, by the way, journeyman healer and daughter of Alis, the King and Queen’s own healer.”

“Meaning I’m in good hands?” Deirdre asked as she unsuccessfully tried to sit up again against the gentle, but insistent pressure of the other.

“Meaning I won’t hesitate to spank you if you misbehave.” The woman answered with a grin. “Trust me, I know how to do that, too, and would be more than able to do it. Not to mention that I’ve learned to handle royal tantrums, so yours should be no challenge at all.”

“Have you heard anything about me?” Deirdre questioned skeptically. “Anything at all? Evidently I’m not all that easy to handle when my temper lets go.”

“So you’re a hellion.” Soo shrugged. “I outweigh you, have experience you don’t, and won’t hesitate to make use of either if you endanger your own recovery. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Deirdre replied with uncharacteristic meekness. Then looked at Soo through thick lashes and shot the other a mischief filled grin. “But don’t expect it to be easy.”

“For either one of us, I expect.” Soo chuckled. “But I will see that you recover completely from this misadventure even if I have to chain you to that bed.”

“Hmmph.” Deirdre shook her head, still held firmly down by the other. “Are all healers as — umm…”

“Determined and as intractable as I seem to be?” Soo helpfully finished then laughed as her patient nodded. “Oh, no. I constantly get grief for being too lenient with my patients.”

“How do I keep finding these people?” Deirdre questioned the ceiling since she was still kept from raising up enough to ask anything else.

“Some people are just lucky, I suppose.” Soo answered then held a cup out to her. “Drink this, and before you complain, I know it tastes foul. If it tastes good, it isn’t doing you any good, my grandmother used to say. Unfortunately, in this case, she was right.”

Deirdre sniffed at the brew and grimaced, but obediently forced it all past a gag reflex determined to spew the nasty stuff all over the room.

“Good girl.” Soo approvingly patted her shoulder. “Now you’ll sleep some more and when you wake next time, I just might let you sit up.”

“I’ll look forward… to.. th…”

Dierdre, much to her future embarrassment when the tale was told, didn’t even manage to finish the sentence before she was softly snoring.

* * * *

“She’s still weak, but the effects of the poison have been completely flushed from her system.” A vaguely familiar voice was telling someone when Deirdre awakened again.

“Speaking of.” Jessica’s voice answered with clear relief in it. “I do think the subject of our conversation is finally awake.”

Swimming vision took a moment to clear and Deirdre saw the vague blobs focus into the healer she remembered, Jessica, and Garret.

“Good afternoon, love.” Garret approached the bed and carefully reached out an arm to give her a tentative squeeze.

Recalling that she had been furious with both him and his sister, she still found that little hug to be extremely comforting. With a small groan, Deirdre slowly sat up, managed to brush one side of her long, thick hair behind a shoulder then sank back into the pillows. “Hi.”

“How are you feeling?” He questioned.

“Aside from like I’ve been dragged behind a dung wagon for fifty miles, not too bad.” She told him then grinned. “Actually, I’m not in pain, my insides don’t feel as if they’re trying to melt, and my head no longer feels like it’s going to fall off and roll under the table. So I guess that means I’m all right.”

“Yes it does.” The healer, Soo, Deirdre recalled her name along with the foul tasting brew that one had made her drink earlier, agreed as she moved to feel the girl’s forehead then held her wrist for a few moments. Nodding in satisfaction, Soo stepped back. “Well, your pulse is strong, and the fever is gone, so it looks as if you’ll live. You’ll be tired for a while yet, but that’s normal after any injury or illness. Just don’t overdo things and you should be fine in a few days.”

“Please define over do.” Deirdre sighed, thinking that at the moment, sitting up probably qualified for that.

“Oh, no dancing, stomping on indiscreet men’s feet, or swims in the atrium’s fountain for starters.” Soo chuckled then put on the serious face most people associated with her profession. “You should take things like getting out of bed for longer than a few minutes at a time very slowly until tomorrow. Then you can walk around a bit, at least until you start to tire. The day after that, you should be pretty well able to do anything you did before this happened.”

“Wait.” Deirdre stopped the woman as she started to leave. “Don’t healers use a form of magic when you work?”

“Yes we do.” Soo nodded.

“But I’m supposed to be a magical null, or something.” The dark haired girl told her. “According to Harald your magic shouldn’t have worked at all on me.”

“Well you certainly aren’t that mythical Magical Null.” Soo told her. “You were powerfully shielded from magic, but that fell away the moment my mother and I started working on you.”

“It did?” Deirdre got a thoughtful pout on her face. “Is it still gone?”

“No, it’s back now.” Soo answered. “But it allows me to reach in. And before you ask me how that is, I don’t know. Harald doesn’t know. It just is.”

“Well at least I know I can be healed if my life is threatened.”

“That should be comforting to know.” Soo more or less agreed.

“Oh, it is. It is.” Deirdre sighed. “It’s just that now I have another mystery to figure out about myself.”

“Good luck with that, my lady.” Soo flashed an encouraging grin. “But knowing what I do about you, I’m fairly sure you’ll get it all figured out eventually.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Probably, but I really couldn’t tell you either way.” Soo shrugged. “Self discovery isn’t always the most comfortable thing for anyone to endure, you know.”

“Oh, thanks.” Deirdre grumbled before genuinely smiling at the healer. “But really, thank you, and pass that along to everyone else involved in my recovery. I won’t forget it, I promise you that.”

“No, I don’t suppose you will.” Soo nodded, thinking this fragile appearing beauty would not forget a few other things either, to the detriment of those who had brought those about.

* * * *

After the healer had gone, Garret moved back to Deirdre’s side, almost hesitantly. “I’m so glad you’re still alive.”

“Me too.” Deirdre grumpily answered then actually smiled. “Thank you for knocking that cup out of my hand, I just couldn’t help myself even though I knew that whatever was in that wine was not good for me at all. I felt compelled to keep drinking the awful stuff.”

“It was poisoned, with the poison magically activated and enhanced.” Jessica told her with a frown. “It was attuned to you and only you. Anyone else drinking that wine would have been fine. That is how the magic part got past your odd shielding, by the way. You had already ingested the nasty stuff so the attack came from within your own system. Evidently the shield, or whatever it is, interpreted that as something coming from you at first and when that proved to be wrong, it was too late to halt the actual poison’s progress.”

“So what does that mean, exactly?” Deirdre asked as she allowed Garret to take her hand in one of his. “Someone deliberately made that poison and worked very carefully to kill me, and only me? Going to more than a little trouble to do it that way?”

“That explains things rather succinctly.” Jessica nodded.

“Is something like that common?”

“Not at all.” The blonde replied with a frustrated sigh. “Unfortunately, those we know of who would be capable of doing such a thing are also adept enough at disguise that they could seem to be almost anyone who generally keeps to the background, like a servant, a clerk, anything at all. We have someone well versed in that kind of thing searching for the guilty party and if she finds him, or her, I don’t think whoever it is will survive the meeting.”

“Mina.” Deirdre whispered without real surprise. “That has to be her. I’ve seen her checking my food and drink, and the cups, dishes, and cutlery. She’s far more intent and intense in the job than a simple maid would be.”

“Not to mention far better at it.” Jessica agreed without needless comment about her soon to be sister’s perceptiveness and intelligence. “She is an ex-assassin, and she was a very good one. Her skills have been and will continue being very valuable to our family. If anyone is able to track this assassin down, she will.”

“And you set her on me.” Deirdre quietly, thoughtfully said to no one in particular though it was taken as being addressed to Jessica.

“I asked her to take care of you, Deirdre.” The other woman sighed. I’m so sorry I was right to be concerned for your safety.

“You asked her?” Deirdre’s ice blue eyes showed a trace of amusement and more than a little disbelief. “She’s one of your servants, isn’t she?”

“No, she’s a friend.” Jessica firmly answered then raised a hand to stop further questions. “If she wishes you to know the details of that, she will be the one who tells you, not me.”

“Trust me.” Garret drily put in. “That young woman is no one’s servant, and no one she doesn’t want to gets away with giving her orders if they possess a modicum of intelligence at all. Even those she would tolerate that from had better be very careful. The woman is deadly in more ways than I care to think about most of the time.”

“I’ll remember that.” Deirdre told them both with a lopsided grin. “Far be it from me to try ordering anyone about anyway. I was taking orders from people most of my life about one thing or another. I much prefer asking to demanding.”

Which explains why your servants are already so fiercely loyal to you already.” Garret chuckled. “The youngest maid on your staff, Genevieve, just past being a girl, nearly brained one of my people with a candle stick when he entered unannounced.”

“She did?” Deirdre laughed at that picture. Genevieve was smaller than she was, and looked as she would barely be able to handle an overly playful kitten.

“She did.” Garret grinned back. “She nearly succeeded, too. Poor Hemish had a headache from the glancing blow he took for hours.”

“Hemish?” Deirdre recalled something. “Tall, kind of pudgy looking fellow with a constantly pleasant expression on his face?”

“That’s the one.” Garret nodded. “One of the first of my people you met, as I recall.”

“Tell him I regret that one of my servants nearly brained him, would you?” She asked then started laughing. “Though I’ll be sure to do that personally once I can look at him without dissolving into laughter at the picture of sweet little Gen nearly doing that to him.”

“Oh, the young lady made sure he received her personal apologies.” Garret replied with a straight face. “In fact, I do think she’s still — umm — convincing him of her sincerity. In their off hours, of course. Hemish seems oddly reluctant to simply accept her apologies and let it be done with.”

“Interesting basis for a relationship.” Deirdre deadpanned to Jessica’s amusement, and Garret’s. “I hope he eventually accepts her — umm — apologies completely.”

“She’s working very hard at that.” Garret admitted with a quirk of his mouth. “And about time some woman got that randy overlarge stuffed bear within her delicate claws. He needs a good woman to take care of him, though he won’t admit that to anyone.”

“Both of them have my good wishes.” Deirdre finished that line of conversation with a grin. “Now, almost sister.”

Jessica gave her an attentive look with a raised eyebrow that showed she knew what was coming next. “The prophecy.”

“Yes.” Deirdre smoothed her unruly hair off her face while grumbling about really needing to wash and brush it, then returned her attention to her future sister-in-law. “You were working up to giving me an explanation when things started getting a bit too exciting, weren’t you?”

“I was.” Jessica agreed then frowned. “Honestly, I still haven’t got the slightest idea of where to start with this.”

“Maybe at the beginning?” Deirdre suggested. “That’s generally a wonderful place to start tales, or whatever.”

“It really isn’t that simple.” Jessica sighed then pursed her lips thoughtfully. “But I’ll try to explain it enough for both of you to understand.”

“Good.” The dark haired hellion nodded in approval.

“I’m in complete agreement with you there, my love.” Garret put in.

“You nearly always agree with me.” Deirdre rolled her eyes then winced as that seemed to have caused her some pain. She forestalled any questions about her well being by holding up a hand and peremptorily waving those off.

“It’s safer all around to do that.” Garret answered with a shrug.

“You need to get over that attitude.” His still somewhat reluctant fiancée told him. “I’ll run all over you if you don’t, you know.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Do that. I know you’re no wimp to be ruled by a woman, not even by one you love.” She told him before turning back to Jessica with a look that quite plainly conveyed both strained patience and curiosity.

“All right, all right!” That lady shook her head and managed a weak grin. “A moment more, I beg you. This isn’t something that can be laid out like a simple board game for children, you know.”

“I have all day.” Deirdre agreeably answered. “And probably tomorrow, too before I have to show myself in public again. But neither of you are leaving without loud protests from me until you tell me — us — something, Jessica.”

“Don’t you need to rest?” Garret questioned, though he too was obviously consumed by the need to know at least something more about the prophecy that had thrown him and Deirdre together.

“I’ve slept the better part of two days already.” She replied with a shrug. “I think I can manage to stay awake a while yet.”

“If I over tire you, Soo will have my hide.” Jessica put in, then held out her hands in mock defense from the glare she received from ice blue eyes for saying that. “But I’ll tell you what I can. The only thing I ask you to believe in this is that I can’t, literally am unable to tell some of it, maybe a lot of it. This prophecy is a strong, and very stubborn old fart, believe me.”

“Tell us what you can.” Dierdre answered simply. “All I ask is that you stop keeping me in this figurative dark room with a candle but nothing to light it with.”

* * * *

“About six hundred years ago, give or take a few, our family was blessed, or cursed with a member who was a genuine seer. Her name was, interestingly enough, Deirdre but the resemblance ends there more or less. From the surviving portraits of the woman she was taller, so fair her skin was nearly white and her hair shone like white gold does.

What that Deirdre did that was notable.” Jessica went on. “Was having the tendency to pass into odd trances then speak what at first was taken to be complete nonsense. Those utterances weren’t nonsense at all as I’m sure you’ve already figured out. But naturally the family kept her secluded a lot of the time because she was so strange and her health was extremely fragile because these visions drained so much of her vitality. We think, no we are sure now, that was because whatever was giving her those ‘visions’ was also using her innate magical strength to insure that at least some of her prophecies would actually actively work to make what they told of come about.

She was predicting the future, you see, and doing it with rather frightening accuracy.” Jessica paused to take a sip of water then went on. “One of the first things she predicted was the murder of a distant relative, who just happened to be Jhalmar’s current ruler. That prediction also outlined the economic and political chaos that would result from that man’s assassination. A few family members paid attention, just in case, and prepared for the worst.

They were unable to prevent Gernan’s assassination, but Dominic, the patriarch of our own Sulan family along with his young cousin Cedric Keria managed to rally enough support to save what remained of the kingdom, though not without a great deal of bloodshed and chaos.

Then Deirdre made another prediction, that also came to pass.” The blonde let out a sigh as the present Deirdre’s attention didn’t waver from her. “Cedric was crowned king of Jhalmar and founded the present Kerian Dynasty. She told him, privately, that would happen, and that he too would face an assassination attempt but survive it. Both things happened. Though most considered Cedric extremely lucky or smiled upon by the gods because of that, and other things the man managed to accomplish.

Needless to say, both families began taking great care of their Deirdre, though her health was truly failing by then. The poor girl was too weak to marry, or even think of having a child, and didn’t live past her twentieth year.

But her last prediction.” Jessica quietly told the pair listening so closely. “Made from what turned out to be her deathbed, is the one that has been giving you two so much grief.”

“That’s a fine history lesson, Jess.” Deirdre answered slowly while she was obviously thinking about what she’d heard. “But it tells me — us, nothing at all about that particular prophecy.”

“I’m getting to that.” Jessica promised. “At least hearing the background for all this is just as important as hearing what poor Deirdre’s last prophecy was about and exactly what it said.”

* * * *

The young woman in the bed was clearly very weak, barely able to lift a hand in response to those gathered around her in concern. The group was small, but impressive. Cedric, newly crowned King, Dominic recently confirmed as Duke of the newborn Duchy of Chalmnessa, the eminent and much loved healer Chantal Hawthorne were the cream of that gathering, and had each been instrumental in more than one way, in stabilizing a collapsing realm and making it safe for everyone not just those possessing force of arms to continue living there.

There were others present. A middle aged woman who was obviously the girl’s mother, brothers, sisters, and a few cousins.

“All right, dear child.” Dominic quietly announced. “Everyone you asked for is here. Must you do this?”

“My last one, Daddy.” The girl managed a smile as she patted his hand comfortingly, then gave the woman hovering so closely a light kiss that obviously took more effort than she cared to show. “This will be the last one, I’ve been promised that. Just let me do it and get it over with.”

Chantal moved forward, carefully setting a gentle hand lightly on the girl’s shoulder. “This magic is killing you, dear. You could wait until you’re stronger couldn’t you?”

“No, Auntie.” Nearly white as the sheets she was covered with the girl smoothed her white blonde hair then shook her head with a smile. “I’ll have peace once I get this finished, and you know how I’ve dreamed of that my whole life.”

She suddenly gripped the healer’s wrist with strength that her slender arm and delicate hand shouldn’t have possessed while her eyes took on the look of someone seeing something at a great distance. “Children of your children. One will come, in the wrong seeming and that must be corrected or Jhalmar will fall.

Child of the Sulans, a strong man and honorable, must endure ridicule while searching for that one. But in the finding will discover great joy though adversity will follow for a time.

Childless King, son of the Kerian line, dangers from within and without. Killers waiting, armies poised.

All hinges on two, and only two. That twain, no others may prevail without disaster for all.

Protect the one. Her magic will be strong, but unknown to her.

Cherish the one, the chosen, though she seems to be other in the beginning.

Years, so many years I see.”

The girl sighed, smiled happily, closed her eyes and simply stopped breathing. The expression on her face was one of pure bliss, and release.

* * * *

“So Deirdre Sulan, youngest child of Dominic and Sera, died.” Jessica softly finished. “The magic that drove her took the last of her vitality to give that prophecy and to give it the power to insure that those it told about at least had a fighting chance to survive whatever is coming. That would be you two, by the way.”

“Gods.” Garret softly swore.

“It was as if I was there.” Deirdre whispered in wonder and sorrow. “That poor girl.”

“Showing you was far better than telling the tale.” Jessica answered just as quietly. “Though seeing that has never been one of my favorite things to do. It is rather painful to watch, isn’t it?”

“Very.” Deirdre sniffled as she dabbed at her eyes. “And you’ve lived with that for how long?”

“Since my power first came to me.” Jessica sighed. “When I was about twelve years old.”

“No wonder you’ve been reluctant to tell anyone about it.” Garret stood up, moved to Jessica’s side and gave her a hug.

“I’d hoped that the things it spoke of were still years in the future, that it didn’t involve you, brother.” The young woman let out a heavy sigh. “Obviously those were vain hopes.”

“Well, at least I discovered the love of my life.” Garret looked towards Deirdre and shook his head. “She’s asleep again.”

“Soo told us she would need more rest over the next few days.” Jessica nodded then waved towards the door. “I’ll tell her maids and Aevestos then be back.”

After his sister had gone, the knight and heir to more than he yet realized gave the deceptively fragile appearing figure in the bed a long, loving look. “Mystery piled on mystery with more mystery for a foundation. That’s you, my love. We still have more questions than answers, I’m afraid. But at least we know what’s been happening to each of us and have a firmer idea about the why of things.”

The only answer he received was a little grumble, a sigh, and sounds of his beloved snuggling more deeply into the bedclothes.

* * * *

Mina had been carefully moving through every section of the palace she had access to, and a few she wasn’t supposed to be able to enter at all.

The poison used on Deirdre had very specific ingredients, things that would have had to been delivered secretly because they needed to be relatively fresh for the nasty concoction to be effective. She’d been searching for some clue about when those arrived, who received them, and where they had gotten in.

Her guise as a maid had been helpful, not to mention her looks, which were something males appreciated more than had often been healthy for them. The one she was speaking with now was no exception.

Jilsom was proud of his position as one of the dungeon overseers and guardians of the numerous and largely unknown — to most people — passages that led from the bowels of the palace to other places. Bolt holes in case of need, but also means of ingress for those wishing to keep their presence, and what they were carrying from being noticed.

“Ahh, lass, I still don’t understand what a pretty girl like you would be doing down here.” He told her for about the fourth time.

“I simply wished to meet you, sir.” Mina simpered and allowed the man to get a really good feel in on one of her breasts, though inside she was seething. Not only did the man seem incompetent, he added to that by being arrogantly certain that nothing at all got past his notice. Mina had noted more than one instance already of things being either smuggled in, or out of the place. Surely the man couldn’t be so blind. Or that totally incompetent.

“I have some very nice wine in my office, if you’d be interested.” Jilsom offered with quite obvious intent to sample more than simply wine, or just her breasts. “I’m sure you’d like it, most servants in the palace never get a chance to experience vintages like this one.”

One of the many drudges who managed to keep the unavoidable filth the literal basement of a huge complex of buildings from becoming thick enough to get the notice of the dandies above paused in his work to carefully watch the buffoon and his latest doxy. Recognition flashed in eyes that were no longer dull with boredom, and he made sure to begin working his shovel and broom along the path the pair had taken.

* * * *

A somewhat disheveled Mina entered Deirdre’s receiving chamber and didn’t pause to straighten her still disarranged hair. She went straight to Aevestos and began a whispered conversation that had the man straightening and asking. “You’re sure of that?”

“He’s called Eel, and that’s the only name most know him by.” Mina confirmed. “I wouldn’t have noticed him at all if he hadn’t been so intently watching me. Posing as dungeon drudge, that’s how he got in, and either brought the ingredients for the poison, or had someone else bring them in once he’d gotten enough of the layout of the palace to know where and when to strike.”

“I need to let Vertigan know about this.” Aevestos began moving towards the door.

“No need.” Mina flashed a predatory grin. “The ‘problem’ has been taken care of.”

The Major Domo didn’t even ask for a clarification of that. There was no need. “Are you all right?”

“Mostly.” Mina grimaced. “He was good, very good at assassinations, but he always did tend to avoid straight on fights. I took a few cuts is all, and those will heal pretty quickly.”

“Good enough, but he may have had companions here for backup, or waiting in the city.”

“He was arrogant, impossibly so.” The one time assassin shrugged then grimaced as something pulled at a wound. “The man never would accept working with anyone else, but you’re right. Whoever hired him may well have hired backup without telling him, or may try to hire another assassin.”

“Go see Soo, she’s in the blue room.” Aevestos told her. “Get yourself seen to, woman. Much as I hate the thought of more trouble, we’ll likely be needing your skills later and you need to be healthy for that.”

“I will, I will.” Mina sighed. “How is the Lady Deirdre doing, by the way, I should have asked first but this information was more important.”

“She’s fine, Mina.” The Major Domo actually smiled. “Tired, but she’ll recover completely according to Alis, Jerome, and Soo.”

“Good.”

“Healer?”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

“I don’t see you moving.”

“There is one more thing.” Mina frowned. “I know that a lot of the palace staff aren’t above taking a few bribes, or picking up a few things that have ‘fallen off’ the delivery cart. But one overseer in the dungeon, Jhilsom, should probably be replaced. The fool is a thief and not a very good one, and was absolutely clueless when obvious smuggling was going on almost in plain sight. Though in fairness for those instances, I was distracting him.”

“I’ll have it looked into.” Aevestos nodded. “Now. Healer. Move.”

“Sergeants never change.” Mina sighed then grinned. “They only get more demanding then die.”

“I was a captain.” The Major Domo answered with a straight face then grinned back. “Though I was a sergeant before that.”

“Figures.” Mina held out her hands before he could order to see the healer again and turned to go find Soo. “I’m going already, I’m really going.”

* * * *

“I fell asleep again.” Deirdre grumbled when she awakened, seeing Garret asleep in a chair close by. It was dark, a few lamps had been lit but the bedchamber was still a shadowed place. Fortunately, those shadows were friendly ones, familiar and nothing appeared to be out of place.

Except for the man softly snoring at her bedside. That sight filled her with a curious warmth she hadn’t really expected, centered in her middle and crotch. It wasn’t unpleasant, far from that in fact. But it was a bit disturbing. Sure she liked him, who wouldn’t given the chance to really know him? Well, there were a few…

But now she really felt the impact of what people called love. Deirdre simply laid there for a while, watching him and drinking in his presence with a warm glow at the idea he hadn’t left since bringing her back from the ball spreading inside her with nearly unholy glee.

“All right, sir knight.” She spoke softly. “I’ll admit it, I love you.”

“About time you noticed that.” He answered just as quietly.

“I thought you were asleep!”

“Was, up until a few seconds ago.” Stretching, he gave her a slow, thorough looking over. “Did you really mean that?”

“I said it, didn’t I?” Deirdre answered with a little frown. “I think I like you better when you’re asleep, though.”

“Why is that?” He gave her a questioning look. “Because I’m not trying to convince you to finally agree to really becoming my wife?”

“That is still something I haven’t made up my mind about, sirrah.” She shot back but grinned as she did. “Though I am considering the possibility now.”

“Like I said, I’ll take what I can get as it comes.”

“If I hear that again, I may throw up.” She threatened. “On you.”

“You’d need something on your stomach before you could do that.” Garret chuckled then asked. “Do you feel up to eating something?”

“I think so.” Clearly taking stock of just how she did feel, physically, the young woman nodded. “Yes, I think I’m famished, actually.”

“You think?” Garret raised an eyebrow. “How can you think you’re famished? Either you are or you aren’t.”

“I’m hungry, all right?” She grumbled. “I just don’t know if my stomach will tolerate food yet is all.”

“I’ll get Soo and see what she thinks.” Garret decided then gave her a hard look. “But you will eat something, even its only broth. Got that?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” Deirdre sighed. “I’m ready to try something, so long as it isn’t that foul smelling and tasting brew she made me drink earlier.”

“No promises there.” Garret answered. “If she thinks you need that, you’ll drink it if I have to sit on you to make sure it goes down.”

“You would, too. Beast. Uncaring, nasty man.”

“Oh I care.” The knight assured her. “But if I have to spank you to get you take your medicine, I will. You need to get back on your feet soon and the only way that is going to happen is to do what the healers tell you.”

“Are you going to be this bossy once we’re married?” She plaintively questioned then almost bit her tongue over saying that.

“A wife should listen to her husband.” He shrugged then laughed softly. “Though in your case, I don’t think the obey thing in the ceremony will be paid all that much attention to.”

“Settle for love and honor, boyo.” She glared. “Don’t push your luck any further than that or you’ll regret it.”

“Hey, I’ll accept the marriage part.” He returned with a grin. “Though I promise to wait until you’re stronger to really ask you. I’d be taking unfair advantage of you to press that issue at the moment.”

“Why change now?” She muttered but found herself watching his straight, strong back as he left to get the healer.

* * * *

“It is good to see you up and about, Lady.” Aevestos actually allowed himself to smile at the one-time gamin he had come at first to like, then love. “We have all been very worried about you. I haven’t gotten decent work out of the maids since you became ill.”

“Was poisoned, you mean.” Deirdre returned his smile then grew sober. “I understand the poisoner has been dealt with?”

“Indeed he has, my lady.” Aevestos nodded. “Though we are still working to prove who paid for his services.”

“Was Mina injured in all that?” She asked almost casually, adding. “The dealing with thing, I mean.”

“Slightly.” The Major Domo shrugged then grinned. “I almost had to tie her up to get her to the healer, but she’s fine now.”

“Are you all right, Aevestos?” The dark haired young lady questioned.

“I’m in fine health, m’lady.” He responded. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’d swear I’ve seen you crack a smile twice since I came in here.” She favored him with an impish grin. “Which is about — let me think here — two more than I’ve ever seen you give anyone.”

“My apologies for jarring your expectations that way.” His eyes twinkled and he gave her another one. “It’s good to have you back, dear Lady. Though I suspect I’ll regret having said that more often in the future than I care to think about just now.”

“It’s all right, Aevestos.” Giving his shoulder a light pat, something she had to stretch a bit to manage, she chuckled. “I won’t ruin your reputation by telling anyone.”

“That would be appreciated, m’lady.” He replied with a chuckle.

“Is Garret close by?” She asked.

“He should be on his way now.” The Major Domo answered. “Is that good news or bad news?”

“Today, good.”

“With you one is never quite sure.” He quietly said to himself.

“I heard that!”

“It’s only the truth.” He shrugged.

“I know.” Winking at him she admitted. “For me, hearing Garret is on his way is actually good news most of the time, but if you tell him I said that I’ll pour honey in your bed and find some ants to join it.”

“A pleasure I think I can do without, m’lady.” The other deadpanned.

“That’s better.” She said in clear satisfaction. “Now you’re acting like the Aevestos I know and mostly love.”

A knock announced someone was at the outer door, probably Garret. The Major Domo sighed, shook his head and announced. “I’ll get the door.”

“Thank you, Aevestos.” She told him and really meant it. “I’ve come to not only trust you, but highly value your rather formidable presence. Oh, would you please let Mina know I’d like to talk with her once I get back?”

“Of, course m’lady.” The man answered. “She’s been waiting for you to ask, actually.”

“Okay, hold it.” Deirdre actually appeared angry this time. “Whenever anyone on my staff wishes to speak with me they have the right to do so. I hope you haven’t been keeping them away from me just because of a little poisoning.”

“A little poisoning…” Aevestos grunted, shook his head, then found himself chuckling. “No, I haven’t been making anyone stay away, m’lady. They have all been more than a bit concerned about your health and have refrained from bothering you during your convalescence for that reason.”

“Oh, my apologies for thinking such a thing of you, but some people have been more than a bit overprotective of me recently. Would you make sure they all know I’m ‘ready for visitors’ again, and they can stop creeping around like mice to spare me the noise I’m used to in here?”

“Gladly.” The knocking at the door started in again and he gave it a guilty look. “I’d better get that or Garret might try breaking it down after what’s happened recently.”

“Good idea.” She agreed with a small grin and nod.

“Well, I never did say anything about wanting a nice, quiet retirement.” He told himself as he moved away to open the door.

* * * *

“It is so good to get out of my apartments.” Deirdre sighed in pleasure as she and Garret made their way down a hallway towards the Atrium. “I was starting to consider tying my bed sheets into some kind of rope and sliding down that to the garden for a while there.”

“Save that one for a real emergency.” The man advised half seriously.

“What kind of emergency?” She questioned sweetly. “An imminent marriage proposal or yet another ball I’m expected to attend?”

“I suppose those could count.” He agreed easily. “Though I’d be able to foil your escape attempt in either case because you’ve already foolishly mentioned that plan to me.”

“Oh drat!” With a theatrical sigh she added. “You take all the fun out of my plotting and scheming, you know.”

“My pleasure, dear. Oww!”

That last was because of a quickly applied elbow to just under his ribs.

“I love you, too, dear.” Deirdre grinned at him.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He responded while rubbing his side. “I would hate to think what you’d do if you didn’t like me. Or worse, actually hated me.”

“Then watch and learn.” She told him while pointing her chin at a small group of ladies led by Bridgette that was heading in their direction.

“You aren’t going to be fighting again here, are you?” He asked carefully.

“Why, do you want to get out of the way if I do that?”

“No sane man lets himself get caught in the middle of a cat — umm — two women fighting.” He said with a grimace.

“I always knew you were smarter than you looked.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“You’re welcome, dear.”

“Deirdre!” Bridgette approached with a carefully held pleased expression on her face. “I’d heard you were very ill.”

“A little food poisoning is all.” Deirdre returned the smile the other had pretty well pasted on her face. “The source was found and taken care of, and as you see, I’m fine.”

“So I see.” Bridgette carefully rearranged a strand of her curly, and false, red hair while her eyes watchfully regarded the raven haired beauty who had already demonstrated quite well that she was not at all afraid of her. “That is good news. Many of us were more than a bit concerned after hearing the state of your health several days ago.”

“Thanks for the concern.” Deirdre answered with an under the breath exhalation that Garret could have sworn was the word bitch. “But as you see, the rumors about the seriousness of my illness were, as usual with things like that, more than a little exaggerated.”

“Roric will be delighted to hear that.” The redhead nodded.

“Oh, I’m sure he will be.” Deirdre smoothly answered. “Tell him I’m thinking of him, and thank him for his concern. I’ll make sure to thank him personally when I have the chance.”

“We will both look forward to that.” Bridgette widened her smile, though she did appear a bit paler than when she had first approached them. “Garret, don’t remain such a stranger. We hardly see you at all these days.”

“Events have kept me more than a little occupied since my cousin arrived here.” The knight replied just as smoothly as Deirdre had done. “Please give him my regards and tell him I’ll pay him a visit when the time is available to do that.”

“Oh, I’ll be sure to.” Bridgette nodded, gave them both a smile that was shown to be a lie as bright green eyes briefly went flat to hide the emotion they would have otherwise revealed then shrugged. “I know what a busy time it is right now for everyone. There are so many things that need doing, don’t you agree? Some never seem to get done.”

She was looking straight at Deirdre as she said that last part.

“Well, I must be off.” The redhead gave them another smile but offered no hint of giving either of them the least touch of her hand. “You be careful, Deirdre. Do try to avoid more of that unfortunate food poisoning, would you?”

“I plan on it.”

Once Roric’s fiancée had led her coterie of sycophants away, Deirdre muttered. “Either I’m going to kill that bitch or she’s going to kill me.”

“Given a choice, I’d take the first option.” Garret told her. “You should be careful about making threats, even veiled ones like you gave just now.”

“It wasn’t a threat, dear.” Deirdre watched the retreating group with the hand that was out of sight in the crook of Garret’s arm tightly clenched. “It was more of a promise.”

“Umm, do you think maybe you could loosen your grip on the inside of my elbow?”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby, Garret.” Deirdre chuckled, her bad mood dispelled. “You’ve taken worse injuries in weapons practice.”

“True, enough.” He agreed then pointed out. “But not from my own fiancée.”

“Something you might want to consider getting used to for the time being if you keep such a firm grasp on me in difficult situations like that one was.” She suggested.

“I was simply keeping the guards in here happy.” Garret shrugged then pointed out. “See how much more relaxed they are now that you and Bridgette aren’t in front of each other?”

“I wasn’t going to start anything!” Ice blue eyes widened innocently and a pout started forming. “That bi — uh, all right lady and I do use the term in the same sentence as her name with more than a little reluctance — is still afraid to start anything out in the open with me.”

“I did notice she kept a rather careful distance from you.”

“I still really want to see if she really could swallow all of that hairpiece.”

“Evidently she is quite aware of the fact, too.” Garret sighed. “Come on, dear, I think it’s time for a nice quiet lunch.”

* * * *

“Well, your pet assassin failed miserably.” Bridgette announced without greeting as she entered the room Roric was seated in. “Not only is the little bitch alive, she is out in public and smiling prettily at everyone.”

“Be careful about what you say and where you say it, woman.” Roric growled without rising from his chair or looking up from the documents he was reading. “If the wrong ears had heard that I would have had to get rid of both them and you.”

“I know this room is warded against scrying and your guards keep everyone well away from it.” She answered simply. “But the fact is that whatever you spent on that assassin was wasted. The girl is alive, well, and not at all worried by the fact that someone is trying to kill her. She even told me the source of her ‘food poisoning’ had been found and I quote here, ‘Taken Care Of’.”

“There are other ways to be rid of her.” Roric finally glanced up from the papers on his desk and frowned. “Not so neat as that solution, but possibly there is some profit from keeping the little hellion alive instead of killing her.”

“Your goals will never be reached while that wide eyed little bitch breathes.” Bridgette warned.

“One woman will make no difference at all in these matters.” Roric negligently waved one hand. “Especially if she finds herself as a nameless slave or in some foreign lord’s private stock of females.”

“I say kill her and be done with it.” Bridgette insisted. “She has the luck of one favored by the gods as it is. She would either charm her way out of a situation like you just suggested, or manage to escape or be rescued. So long as she draws breath, your aspirations for the throne are nothing but fanciful dreams.”

“Wouldn’t you enjoy the chance to humble her without interference?” Roric questioned. “Gain some revenge for what she’s done to you?”

“You know I would.”

“Then be patient, my love.” Roric told her before returning his attention to the correspondence he was going through. “Your time will come. Along with mine.”

Bridgette left him to his correspondence, and once she was gone he waved someone forward from behind the heavy curtains between the working space and meeting room. Roric nodded as the man took a seat without being invited. “Well, it seems that your first plan failed. The good part is they also seem to think you’re dead.”

Eel nodded with a deceptively lazy grin in response. “I nearly was. That woman is very good, and dangerous. I believe she is passing herself off as one of the target’s maids. The price is going up, given that I had to use up all my healing potions to recover from that mishap.”

“Just get it done.” Roric answered. “Success will be rewarded very well.”

“Pity she survived that poison.” Eel sighed. “I put a lot of work into making it, then getting it placed so she would drink it. Even with the healers, it should have killed her. The young lady is quite obviously something more than she appears to be. But I’ll find the chink I need for the opportunity to finish this job completely.”

“I look forward to the day.” Roric allowed himself to smile with anticipation.

* * * *

“You and Bridgette really don’t like each other, do you?” Garret idly asked as they waited for his staff to bring the lunch they were planning to enjoy on the patio outside his rooms.

“That’s putting it rather mildly.” Deirdre grumbled. “I know I’d quite cheerfully use a fisher’s knife to see if she really has a stone where most people have a heart.”

“Why do you hate her so much?”

“She means you ill, Garret, along with all your family.” Deirdre used both hands to toy with an errant curl before absently patting it back into place. “Besides, she’s a two faced lying bi…”

“That part I have already.” He interrupted her with a chuckle. “Very clearly as a matter of fact. So what proof do you have of this plotting against my family?”

“She’s involved with Roric, isn’t she?” With a lift of her eyebrows and a tilt of her head she managed to convey that her claim was a fact so obvious even a total idiot should have figured it out.

“Point taken, my love.” Garret admitted.

“Will you please drop the my love and that other mushy stuff?” Deirdre demanded. “You’ll spoil my lunch if you don’t.”

“But you mentioned marrying me already.” He defended himself.

“Provisionally, and only in the context of whether you would be trying to order me around if — and I mean if — that happens.”

“But you admitted that you loved me.” He pointed out.

“A moment of weakness.” She shot back. “I was ill, had just been poisoned as a matter of fact. Shame on you for taking advantage of me that way.”

“But…”

“I have a whole year to make a decision about that, after all.” She told him, then frowned as she did the math about the time until that decision was due. “Okay, a little less than that. But I intend to take my time and make sure I’m doing the right thing.”

“But we love each other!” He protested.

“Makes no difference.” Deirdre countered. “I’m still pretty new at this woman thing and feel I need to consider all the ramifications an agreement to your request would bring.”

“Ramifications?”

“Ever hear of something called pregnancy?”

“It’s part of being a wife, for the gods’ sake!”

“That’s another thing.” She added. “Am I ready to be a wife when I was looking forward to being a husband not so long ago?”

“Haven’t we covered this ground before?”

“Not in near enough detail.”

“Could we maybe do that after lunch? I’m really kind of hungry you know.”

“If you insist.” She graciously agreed, then grinned.

“Woman, you are impossible!”

“Well, that I am, especially on the woman part of things.” Deirdre answered without hesitation. What has happened to me is supposed to be impossible isn’t it?”

“Not when magic is involved.” He pointed out.

“That, my dear.” Deirdre nodded. “Is just one more bone I have to pick clean with you.”

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Thirteen ( and Fourteen )
 By Maggie Finson
 
13. What?

or, Oh, no Frigging Way! I’m not going to Do It!

 

Oh, well, I suppose that pretty well tells you all what the character reactions to living through this chapter were. They’re currently on strike and close to being in open revolt here. Sigh.

Come to think of it, with all the problems our heroines, heroes, and villains are coping with I can’t really blame them.

Now Deirdre, put the mace down, it’s okay.

Garret, do something with her!

Oh, you can’t? Won’t?

Anyone?

Okay, okay!

I give up, you win! There will be no chapter thirteen. Yo! Characters! Satisfied now?

* * * *

What’s that Igor? An unruly mob of torch and pitchfork waving fans are on the front lawn?

Hmm. They’re threatening to do what?

Quick! Throw this to them!

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Maiden by Decree
Chapter Fourteen
 By Maggie Finson
 
Leaving Jhalmar

or, Fresh Sea Air — urk!
 

During lunch, Garret innocently informed Deirdre. “Oh, Mother and Father have invited us to go with them when they return to Chalmnessa.”

“Have they?” Pushing an errant strand of hair away from her face, the beauty gave him a slightly suspicious look. “Why is that? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh, they’d really love to have you visit, and it would give you the chance to meet the rest of my family.” The man shrugged with a little too much nonchalance.

“Is that so?” Deirdre gave him another long look that changed from suspicion to outright skepticism. “I don’t suppose there’s another reason or two for this sudden invite is there?”

“Whatever gave you an idea like that?” Looking convincingly offended, he shook his head. “And why are you so suspicious of our motives in this?”

“Well, let’s see.” Tapping a fingernail on the table to emphasize each point. “One - someone tried to kill me. Two — I seem to have made some pretty nasty enemies around here recently, which leads back to point one. Three — You, and everyone else don’t seem to think I’m either safe, or observant enough to remain here in the palace, or Jhalmar right now. Four — you, Jessica, and just about everyone else who knows me around here are almost frantic about keeping me both alive and whole. Which you all seem to think is something that won’t be too easy to accomplish around here. How am I doing so far?”

“You don’t wish to see my ancestral home and meet the rest of my immediate family?” Garret gave her a wounded look.

“Of course I’d like — no, love to do that.” Deirdre gently answered, then added. “But this sudden invitation following on the heels of that poisoning incident does seem as if you’re trying to get me out of the way just now.”

“Well, a change in scene would be good for you right now.” He admitted then rushed on. “It’s a beautiful place, with a nice, relaxing sea voyage to the port of Hynik then a leisurely ride through some of the richest, lovliest country in all of Jhalmar or on the continent, to be honest.”

“Uh huh.” The dark haired young woman pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I’ve never been more than ten miles from the city here. I’d be so completely lost in another place I’d very likely be a much easier target there than here. At least around here I know of more than a few boltholes to run to if things got too dicey.”

“All right.” Garret shook his head in exasperation. “I do want you out of the palace and city for a while. It’s getting too dangerous for you around here whether you want to admit the fact or not. Satisfied?”

“Yes.” Grinning, she lightly waved a hand back and forth in front of her. “That helps clear the air. Why didn’t you just tell me you and other concerned parties think I’d be better away from here for the time being?”

“Because none of us expected you to accept that explanation without a fight.” He answered levelly then gave her a questioning look. “You are going to fight the idea, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes.” She nodded firmly. “Running away from this trouble isn’t an answer and you know it. And if I was to leave the capitol right now, more than one group would think I was running with my tail between my legs and yelping in terror. That can’t be a good thing no matter how you might look at it.”

“I told everyone that you’d be just as stubborn about this idea as you have been about everything else.” Garret snorted. “That and the fact that this is your home and getting run out of it would gall you beyond words.”

“Exactly.” She responded with a nod. “So no matter how much I’d like to visit your ancestral home and meet your family now isn’t the time to do that. Besides, that would get me that much closer to admitting that I’m going to marry you eventually.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” He asked with a pained tone in his voice.

“That depends.” She shot back.

“Depends on what?”

“On whether or not I ever manage to get used to the idea that I’m a viable candidate for marriage as a bride instead of as a husband, comes to mind right off the top of my head.” She shrugged with a delicate lift of one shoulder that was more than a little fetching and quite feminine. “It also depends on whether or not I think marrying you would be right for me.”

“Right for you?” Leaning back in his chair, he gave her a disbelieving look. “How can it not be right for you? I love you. You admitted to loving me. So what’s the problem?”

“That is one of the things I need to find out.” Shaking her own head, she gave him a direct look that was not something most ladies turned on men in general. “If there is a problem, I mean. You never know, we might not be all that compatible in the long run. Maybe I like eating crumbly cakes in bed, or you fart all night. Who knows?”

“You’re being silly with those examples.” He stiffly replied. “And trying to change the original subject.”

“I thought I had changed it.” She smirked.

“It doesn’t matter.” He told her flatly. “You’re going, I’m going. No arguments accepted.”

“And what makes you think you can so blithely order me around?” Deirdre’s ice blue eyes flashed like sun on a glacier and were nearly as warm as that glacier would have been. “Even after we’re married — if that happens — I won’t meekly jump at your whims, Sirra.”

“That isn’t the point here.” He argued then sighed. “Besides, it isn’t my order, it’s from the King and Queen themselves.”

“Oh, really?” Rolling her eyes, she made an uncouth gesture and chuckled. “What makes you think I’ll fall for that one? I changed sex here, I didn’t lose any of my brains or the ability to use them.”

“I’m not even implying that you did.” He placated her outrage. “But nevertheless, I’ve told you the truth. I could get it in writing from them if you insist on being so stubborn over this.”

“That would go a long way to convincing me it’s true.”

“Besides, if you don’t go willingly…”

“What are you going to do?” She challenged.

“If I have to truss you up and throw you on the ship like baggage I’ll do it, dear.” Garret gave her a nasty little grin. “Plus, if you continue being so obstinate, I swear that I’ll take you over my knee and give that pretty backside of yours a sound thrashing.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Eyes wide with both disbelief and growing anger she scooted her chair back from the table and planted hands on her hips. “I’d never forgive you if you did either one of those things!”

“Then start packing, my lady.” The tone of his response left no room for doubt. “Because not only would I dare, I’ll do it if you keep arguing with me about this.”

“Try it.”

“All right.” Getting up from his own chair, Garret began moving in her direction. “You just won’t be reasonable about this thing will you?”

Edging away from him while keeping the table strategically between them, Deirdre shook her head. “Stay away from me, I’m warning you.”

“I can’t do that, dear.” Giving her a beatific smile he continued stalking her until she made a break for the door. With a quick dive he snared one of her ankles, pulling her off her feet and then away from the sanctuary offered by the door leading to the hallway.

“Let go of me!” She demanded in a rising voice. “I’ll scream, I swear I’ll scream.”

“Go ahead.” Garret moved his hands up her legs and over her hips until he had a good, solid grasp of her narrow waist. “Everyone has been instructed to leave us alone no matter what they might hear in here. Jessica and I suspected this could get kind of ugly for awhile.

Now, for the last time.” He questioned in soothing tones. “Are you going to listen to reason here, it would make things so much easier, you know.”

In answer, she drew in a deep breath and let out a bloodcurdling scream right in his ear.

“Ouch.” Shaking his head half regretfully, Garret told her. “You can’t say I didn’t give you the chance to avoid this, young lady.”

She kicked at him which he easily avoided without letting go of his grip, then dragged her kicking, screaming form towards a nearby couch.

“Just remember that you asked for this.” He informed her once she was sprawled across his lap on the couch and began lifting her skirts and petticoats away from the part of her anatomy he’d threatened.

“I still don’t believe you’d do…” SWAT!! “Owww! Stop that!”

He didn’t. Not for awhile anyway.

* * * *

“I still can’t believe you did that.” Rubbing her sore bottom, Deirdre gave Garret a hurt look. “I thought you loved me!”

“Oh, I do, dear.” Sighing, he ruefully gave a reddened hand a shake. “But sometimes one has to hurt the one he loves whether he wishes to or not just to keep that one safe.”

“You big Bully.” She snorted. “Girl beater. You’ll regret that, I promise.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will.” Nodding agreeably Garret gave her a sunny smile. “But now it’s time to start organizing for our trip.”

Letting out a heavy, put upon sigh, she asked. “When do we leave?”

“When the tide goes out in the morning.”

“That’s awfully early, isn’t it?” Deirdre made a moue of distaste.

“A bit before dawn, yes.” Garret nodded. “So since when did you complain about being up and about at the crack of dawn?”

“Since I got beaten into agreeing to go on this trip.” She grumbled then gave him a sour look. “You remember, the beating you just gave me?”

“It wasn’t a beating.” He corrected. “It was a spanking, which you richly deserved and have for a while now.”

“All right, all right.” She grumped, still rubbing her stinging backside. “You win. I’ll go, but I’m not doing this willingly.”

“Just so you do it, dear lady.” He answered.

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“Then maybe you should, you know, go see what your maids are packing for the trip.” Garret answered easily. “They might even let you veto some choices, or make a few of your own if you get there soon enough.”

“Hmmph!” Was all the answer she gave, other than carefully slamming the hall door behind her with all the force she could muster.

* * * *

“You planned this!” Deirdre accused then paused in her glaring at Garret to throw up in the bucket once again. “Oh, it will be a lovely, relaxing sea voyage, dahhrliiin… Urgghhh!”

“How was I to know that you’d be prone to seasickness?” The knight asked reasonably between bites at the still steaming leg of Turkey he was munching with great enjoyment.

“Do you HAVE to do that in front of me?” She asked plaintively then after another look lunged for the bucket again.

“Do what?” Garret innocently questioned after taking another bite of the succulent fowl.

“That!” Waving towards the meat she made a face and worked to keep from throwing up again. “Can’t you just throw that out the window?”

“It’s a porthole on a ship, love.”

“Whatever.” She grumbled. “Just, please get it out of my sight.”

“I’m finished with it anyway.” The man shrugged and tossed it into the bucket Deirdre had been using. “Though it’s almost time for dinner. The captain would really like to see you for at least one meal aboard.”

“Don’t talk to me about fooooo.”

“Oh, stop tormenting the poor girl, Garret.” Jessica admonished from the doorway. “I think she’s suffering quite enough without that.”

“Jess.” Deirdre almost begged. “Kill me now, I won’t even fight. You’d be doing me a real favor since I’m going to die anyway pretty soon It would save me lots of needless suffering.”

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic.” Jessica chuckled. “You aren’t going to die. You’re getting better, I can see that. You aren’t nearly as bilious a green in the face or heading for the bucket as often as you did yesterday.”

“Fine friends I have.” The ragged looking black haired beauty grumbled. “Won’t even give a girl the mercy stroke when she begs for it.

While the man who supposedly loves me.” Her glower was much more the usual Deirdre than it had been the day before on their first day at sea as she regarded Garret with a venomous look. “EATS in front of me when he knows just the thought of food, let alone the sight and smell of it is something I CAN NOT TOLERATE!!”

“Yes, she is getting better.” Garret nodded to his sister. “She’s actually yelling again when she gets herself into a snit.”

“OUT!” The subject of that observation screamed. “GET OUT AND LET ME DIE IN PEACE!”

The contents of the bucket, noxious in the extreme, splashed against the closed cabin door just after an amused Garret and Jessica slammed it behind them on their way out.

“No one on the crew is going to want to clean that up.” Garret observed as the vile stuff began leaking out from the crack under the door.

“Well, I guess your little darling will do it then.” Jessica grinned half maliciously. “Either that or get sick every time she takes in a breath.”

“She’d do that just to spite me.” The knight ruefully answered.

Care to make a wager on that?” Jessica questioned with a grin.

“How much or what?” He asked.

“How about that gown I’ve been wanting if she does clean it against that saddle you’ve been drooling about?”

“Done!”

“Twenty minutes later a smirking Jessica patted Garret on the shoulder. “The color I want is dusty rose, brother dear.”

“You two planned that, didn’t you?”

Jessica simply shrugged in answer and flashed him a mischief filled grin.

* * * *

The next morning, their third day at sea, Garret walked up on deck to find a once again resplendent Deirdre watching the rising sun as the crewmen worked at their various tasks. Moving to stand beside her, he carefully didn’t look at her while saying. “You appear to feel better this morning.”

Well enough to halfway scandalize my maids by having the cook’s boy haul hot water for a proper bath to my cabin before I was ‘suitably’ dressed.” She answered then chuckled. “None of the maids, by the way, would clean up the mess I made yesterday even when I threatened dire things if they kept refusing. Mina simply handed me a bucket of soapy water, a mop, and some rags then left.”

“Well, Mina isn’t exactly your run of the mill maid, you know.”

“No, she isn’t.” Deirdre shrugged then actually laughed. “She informed me that they had all cleaned up following my tantrums enough and that it was time that I started paying the price for my tempers.”

Garret winced. “What did you do after she told you that?”

“Agreed with her.” Sighing, she gave him a glance full of humor at her own expense. “Then I cleaned up my mess. It isn’t as if I hadn’t done things like that before. Though I did have to throw the clothes I was wearing overboard after that. Though they would have likely gone that way without the cleaning given the fact that I hadn’t changed them for two days and actually was quite ill that first day at sea.”

“I know you were.” Garret carefully reached out an arm and put it lightly around her shoulder. “Though you just being petulant that second day, weren’t you?”

“I was still ill.” She retorted and stiffened then let out a small laugh while she relaxed. “But yes, I was being a bitch because I was feeling well enough to take things out on someone else but not really well enough to feel good.”

“Would you be interested in breakfast then, M’lady?” Garret asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

“A light one.” Deirdre nodded then swallowed as the ship lurched from a larger wave than usual. “Maybe I’d better start with some broth to see how that sits once it’s down in my stomach.”

“I think that would be wise.” He agreed.

“Wouldn’t do at all to puke on the Captain’s table, would it?” She grinned at him.

“Probably not the best way to make an impression, no.”

“Have a bucket handy though.” She told him. “Just in case.”

“Of course.” Garret nodded as he took her arm and guided her to Captain’s cabin.

* * * *

Captain Jared Wolfe, commander of the Jhalmarian Sloop Christina had been delighted when Deirdre joined his other illustrious guests for breakfast in his cabin.

“Welcome, my lady.” He graciously greeted her with a bow and light kiss that fluttered on the palm of her hand. “I am pleased that you are feeling better, and please forgive the roughness of the voyage those first few days.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Deirdre smiled at the man, noting that his lean if short form was not only well muscled, but more than a little appealing. Especially with his squarish face strong features and sharp hazel eyes. “And the roughness of the early voyage wasn’t your fault, I know that. The gods give whatever they please, I just thank them that they didn’t send a storm to test me on my first time at sea.”

“I’ll add my thanks to your’s M’lady.” Captain Wolfe smiled. “No sailor enjoys navigating in a storm, not even a small one.”

“Oh, stop with the courtly manners, Jared.” Duke Lamont chuckled. “The lady is quite comfortable with plain words and honest intents.”

“Trust me, Captain.” Dierdre agreed. “I am not your usual shrinking violet or social butterfly flitting around the reflected light of their majesties Cedric and Evaine.”

“So I’ve heard.” The Captain nodded with a grin then turned to Garret. “Boy, if you manage to do something to drive this one off, I’ll personally tie the rope to keel haul you with.”

“I’d deserve that if I did drive her away, uncle.” Garret answered with a too serious expression on his face. “And would probably help you tie that rope should that happen.”

Deirdre gave Garret a narrow eyed look then quietly asked. “Is there anyone in this kingdom you aren’t related to?”

* * * *

“You are something of a surprise, m’lady.” Mina told Deirdre as they shared enjoyment of the sunshine and breeze at the starboard mid-ships rail of the Christina.

“I’m a surprise?” Deirdre snorted. “How do you think I felt when I discovered I had both a one-time assassin, and evidently a very good one, along with one of Lord Vertigan’s better protégés posing as two of my maids?”

“Oh, we aren’t posing.” Mina answered easily. “We are maids. Just rather unusual ones.”

“Fit companions for a ‘lady’ who still has trouble with the idea that she has the needed physical characteristics to be a lady, I suppose.” Deirdre shrugged then chuckled. “Quite a group, aren’t we, Mina?”

“Oh, yes, m’lady.” Mina smiled in response to that question. “A trio no sane person, male or female, would try to harm, I can assure you.”

“I’m nowhere near as formidable an opponent as either you or Bertelle would be.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Deirdre.” Mina answered firmly. “You survived running the streets of Jhalmar until Garret found you, and I’m certain you managed to learn a few tricks and nasty surprises to spring on anyone stupid or uninformed enough to think of you as nothing more than a fluttery little lady of the court.”

“When mother or Katrina weren’t actively boxing my ears for such — umm — exploits.” Deirdre smiled then winced at some of the memories that brought up. “And believe me when I tell you that both of them got lots of practice at hitting my poor ears. Not to mention other body parts.”

“So you’ve always been willful and intransigent with authority?” Mina questioned with a chuckle.

“Up until Garret chose me at that tournament.” The dark haired lady — in spite of her protests of the fact, she was one already — nodded. “I was always at odds with someone who had my ‘better interests and welfare’ at heart. Or so they would tell me while applying that so-called strong hand.”

“If it’s any help.” Mina offered. “My childhood was pretty much the same in that respect.”

“Did you ever knuckle under?” Deirdre questioned.

“ Did you?”

“No.”

“We have more in common than you may think then, m’lady Deirdre.” Mina grinned. “Including all the bruises we accumulated while growing up.”

“Are those sails?” Deirdre pointed at the horizon just as the lookout called out. “Sail Ho!”

“Good eye, m’lady.” Mina approved as she watched the horizon. “I see another set of them, too. Two ships and heading towards us.”

“Am I being needlessly paranoid, or is that a bad thing?”

“Paranoia when people actually are trying to kill one is a survival characteristic.” Mina answered as the crewmen began filing to the armory to collect weapons.

“I was afraid of that.” Deirdre breathed.

Mina started removing weapons from the bag she had carried with them when they had come from below decks. Deirdre watched for a few moments then asked. “What have you got there that would be useful in this kind of situation?”

“These, for one.” The one time assassin showed a brace of hiltless daggers. Then produced another with a leather wrapped hilt. She offered that one to Deirdre.

“No thanks.” The other waved it away as she produced a finely made dagger of almost priceless Imlarian steel. “I have one of those. Got anything else?”

“You should get below where it will be safe.” Mina shook her head and tried to pull Deirdre towards a hatch leading to below decks.

“If those ships manage to catch us, I’d probably be a whole lot safer up here knowing what was happening.” Deirdre’s chin was set and her eyes flashed. “Now what else have got in that bag, Mina?”

“These.” The other unwrapped a slender sword and finely made mace with a wickedly barbed head. “Though I really think you should go below.”

“Not going to happen, Mina.” Deirdre shook her head, then pointed at the mace. “Give me that one.”

“At least do something about those skirts you’re wearing.” Mina pleaded, thinking Garret would probably kill her for this one, but the headstrong young woman at her side wouldn’t go easily to the dubious safety of her cabin. That much was obvious.

“All right.” Deirdre started to lean forward so she could rip her skirts away then caught the slight motion of Mina lifting a sap behind her and turned with a glare that would have stopped a charging bull in its tracks. And sent it running the other way. “Don’t even think of trying that, Mina. You’d win, I’m sure, but we’d be wasting time while you did and those ships are coming at us pretty fast.”

“How does Garret put up with you?” The supposed maid questioned while helping the recalcitrant and too observant lady to cut her skirts away.

“Ask him, not me.” Deirdre replied with a half smile as she experimentally moved in nothing but her underwear, and gave the mace a tentative, exploratory swing. “Nice.”

“I intend to.” Mina answered then under her breath added. “Providing I can keep you alive so he won’t have me drawn and quartered because I let you do this idiotic thing.”

“Give it up, Mina.” The dark haired girl was tying her hair up out of the way, and grabbed a kerchief off the belt of a passing sailor. That she wrapped around her head to keep the hair out of the way. Then snatched a pair of pants that had been drying on the rigging. As she pulled those on, Deirdre gave Mina a long, somber look. “I’ve been in life or death situations before, believe it or not, and am no tyro when it comes to fighting.”

“You might want to strap those down.” Mina gestured at Deirdre’s breasts thrusting against the corset and corset cover. They could be distracting for you.”

“And for them.” Deirdre grinned nastily.

“Garret is going to kill me.” Mina moaned. “Slowly, over a low fire.”

“Worry about that later.” Deirdre advised.

“Good point.” Mina drew in a breath and shrugged. “Well, who wants to live forever, anyway? I’ll have your back, m’lady.”

“I know you will, Mina.”

The two women, standing among sailors ready for a fight, managed to remain largely unnoticed. But to be fair, everyone’s attention was on the pair of ships closing on the Christina.

* * * *

“Sloops, Cardasian from the sail configuration.” Jared told Garret who was beside him on the quarterdeck. “Bastards are faster than we are, but we can steer into the wind a bit better. They carry too much sail to tack as well as we can.”

“Does that give us any advantage?” Garret questioned quietly as his father the Duke emerged from belowdecks in leather armor similar to what his son wore to join them.

“Probably not.” Jared responded honestly then bellowed a series of commands to the sailors swarming the rigging before returning his attention to the approaching vessels and the conversation. “But I’ll take whatever the gods give me.”

“Are the women safely below?” Garret asked his father.

“Your mother is fuming and protesting.” Lamont grinned. “And your lady’s cabin is locked tight with some of my personal guards warding it.”

“You heard nothing at all out of Deirdre?” Garret nervously questioned as he scanned the sailors gathered on the main deck.

“No.” Lamont cast a curious then worried look at the companionway leading down.

“That’s worrisome.” The younger man began to move towards the ladder leading to the main deck only to be stopped by the Captain's hand on his arm.

“If she’s down there, nephew.” Jared bared his teeth. “It’s too late for you to find her before the action starts, and besides, my men will protect her with their lives.”

“That little idiot.” Garret grated. “If she thinks she got a spanking before…”

“A story I’ll look forward to hearing, boy.” Jared showed his teeth in a feral grin. “But later. They’re closing to within catapult and ballista range.”

Christina’s own catapults and lone ballista awaited the command to loose as the pair of approaching ships neared. Jared bellowed at the crews of those weapons. “Hold your fire! This is no friendly visit, but don’t waste shots at this range! Cannon crews, be ready!”

“Cannons?” Lamont gave the main deck a closer look then grinned. “So you managed to snag some of Harald’s new toys did you?”

“That I did.” Jared nodded. “Even if they don’t prove to be very effective as weapons they ought to at least scare the shit out of those bastards.”

* * * *

“What’s grapeshot?” Deirdre asked Mina.

“No idea.” The former assassin answered, scanned the deck then pointed. “Look, just below decks there. See it?”

“A tube of iron?” Deirdre looked then shook her head. “What good will that be in a fight?”

“I think we’re about to find that out.” Mina replied then pushed the other towards the deck. “Down!”

The bolt from the attacking ship’s ballista thrummed through the space they had recently vacated.

* * * *

“Cardasian regular navy.” Jared decided as the shots began to fly from the opposing vessels. “Though not flying the colors and the men are not it uniform, but it is their navy. I’m sure of that.”

“Can we get proof?” Lamont questioned as both attacking ships moved closer and some of their shots struck home, raising screams of pain and dying as they did.

“Not likely.” Jared answered. “These jackals have been raiding shipping for months. All we’d find aboard any of them would likely be things consistent with pirates.

“All weapons fire as you bear!” He bellowed even louder than before.

Thumps of ballista and catapults as they loosed their missiles were drowned out by a booming roar, fire, and belching smoke from the newly acquired cannons.

* * * *

“Gods.” Deirdre stared in disbelief as the effects of those ‘tubes of iron’ she had questioned earlier came clear through the acrid smoke they created.

Ears still ringing, she saw splintered railing, a demolished catapult, and a swath cleared through the men who had gathered on the facing side of the pirate in anticipation of a quick boarding. The sailors who had sent the fires of Hells at the opposition were laboriously dragging the monster back, swabbing its insides with rams tipped with dripping wet cloth, and were assembling more of the things that had wrought such noisy devastation.

“Prepare for boarders!” A petty officer yowled as the shaken, but undeterred pirates swarmed back to the rails and grabbed lines to swing aboard. The same petty officer roared. “Ware the grapples, lads!”

Deirdre suddenly found herself facing a savagely grinning sailor from one of the other ships raising a heavy, curved bladed weapon with intent to use it on her. Dropping to the deck and rolling away from the blow she heard a sickeningly heavy thunk as the weapon impacted the deck where she had stood. But while rolling she struck out with the mace in her hand and solidly hit the other’s knee. As he fell the mace met his descending head with a meaty thud and cracking of bone. “Eww!”

But she was up on her feet a moment later. “Oww!”

“Are you hurt, m’lady?” Mina anxiously looked her over for wounds.

“Squashed them when I rolled.” Deirdre grimaced.

“Told you to tie them down.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Another boarder was closing but stopped when Deirdre straightened her back and extended her considerable even if not huge assets.

“You’re drooling.” She calmly informed him then flattened the man with a sidearmed swing of her mace so fast it was hard to follow with the eye. “That’ll teach you to leer at a lady.”

“Less talk more action!” Mina hollered over the din of clashing blades and screams.

* * * *

“Well, that was interesting.” Deirdre commented once the mayhem had subsided and the last of the raiders had been killed, driven off, or subdued.

“Speaking of interesting.” Mina tilted her head towards an obviously angry Garret stalking in their direction.

“Oh, hi, Garret.” Deirdre greeted him absently while examining one of the new cannons. She turned to face him and grinned while patting one. “You know, we need more of these.”

“I told you it was a mistake to let her run around loose.” Mina commented as the man reached them.

“You were supposed to be keeping her out of trouble.” He glared at both of them for a minute, trying to decide which one deserved the first of his ire and settling on Mina. “What were you thinking?”

“On second thought.” Deirdre gave the cannon a speculative look. “If we use these, pretty soon everyone will be. What a mess that would be.

Then again, if we didn’t use them and someone else did...” The little beauty twisted her mouth into a little moue of concern. “This is giving me a headache.”

“Deirdre.” Garret interrupted the monologue in a dangerously quiet voice. “What were you thinking, standing here in the middle of a battle?”

“I wasn’t exactly standing here watching you know.” She answered tartly then lifted the mace still in the hand that hadn’t been touching the cannon. “I was really too busy to just stand there looking pretty.”

“You could have been killed!” He moved to take her by the shoulders and shake her, but stopped at the directness in her ice blue eyes as they held his.

“Garret, I wasn’t a complete innocent before you found me, not even close.” She quietly informed him, then quirked her mouth in a one sided grin. “An idiot, maybe, an innocent, no. Life on the streets, even when you have some sort of home to go to when you’re done running around, is dangerous at times. Even in Jhalmar.”

“Even so.” Garret shook his head with a sigh and gave up. “What am I going to do with you, Deirdre?”

“I guess we’ll figure it out as we go, won’t we?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Well, I squashed my breasts rolling on the deck.” She told him with a grimace. “I don’t recommend that for fun, by the way. And I broke a nail.”

Garret gave Mina, who was actually stifling laughter, a helpless look that clearly asked. What am I supposed to do with her?

“Don’t ask me.” The former assassin smirked. “She’s your fiancée.”

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Fifteen
 By Maggie Finson
 
Chalmnessa

or, So This is Where You Grew Up …

 

“What were you thinking?” Garret asked almost plaintively once he had gotten Deirdre back to her cabin and in relative private. “Risking yourself in a shipboard battle? You could have been captured, or worse, killed!”

“It seemed like the thing to do at the time?” She answered with a shrug. “I couldn’t just stand there and scream you know. I don’t do the helpless maiden thing all that well.”

“That has been made abundantly clear.” Garret sighed then muttered. “About the only ‘maiden thing’ you are any good at is keeping that maidenhood intact.”

“I heard that.” She called from behind the screen where she was changing out of the canvas pants she’d pulled on just before the boarding parties had started coming.

“You can’t keep risking yourself like that.” Garret went on with the original topic. “In case you hadn’t realized it, you’re pretty important to me and I’d really be devastated if I lost you.”

“Aww, that’s nice.” Deirdre called back from behind the screen. “Does that mean you’d protect me from any harm?”

“Of course it does.”

“That,” She answered with a sigh. “was not the thing to say there even if it did seem like it to you. I don’t NEED to be constantly protected, though the idea does give me some nice warm feelings I’m not used to having at all. I don’t WANT to be constantly protected, even if my disposition and some of the situations I get into seem to warrant that kind of thing.”

“You do have to admit that events tend to make sure that you’re in the thick of whatever is going on by now.” Garret shot back. “And that’s dangerous for anyone given the current political climate. There are people actively trying to KILL you!”

“Try living out on the streets.” She responded with a mirthless chuckle. “There are people there who would kill you for copper piece and think nothing of it other than the fact that once they’d done it they could either eat or have another drink.”

“But your actions earlier were — not at all lady-like.” Garret protested.

“I’ll be lady-like when I need to be, darling. Deirdre briefly stuck her head around one edge of the screen blocking her changing from him with a malicious little grin. “You might bear in mind that I’m still learning all this ‘Lady’ stuff, and a lot of it is kind of made up as I go along so far.”

“Why is that?” The knight questioned almost plaintively. “You have more than enough teachers to help you learn.”

“Oh, let me think here.” The dark haired beauty answered in an acid tone of voice. “Oh! I have it! Could it maybe, just maybe, be the fact that most women and ladies start out as little girls! And I didn’t?!! Could that be the problem here? Just maybe? You think?”

“For the five-hundred and seventeenth time,” He almost shouted back at her. “I didn’t cause this to happen to you! Gods woman, you’d think I had a spell or potion ready just to change you into what you are!”

“Really?” The top of her head, covered in disarranged curls peeked out from behind the screen along with one wide, nearly ingenious ice blue eye. “Have you told me it isn’t your fault that many times? And you could have used a potion, or had Jess zap me with some spell, or something.”

“Well I didn’t!” Garret sighed and ran a hand through his hair in a gesture that showed how frustrated he was becoming with the conversation. “It’s the prophecy!”

“Have you?” She questioned.

“Have I what?”

“Told me at least five-hundred and seventeen times?”

I thought we’d gotten past that part of the conversation.” The knight retorted, exasperation clear in his voice and posture. And how would I know, at times it seems like I’m constantly telling you that. Who really counts something like that?”

“I do.” She answered smugly. “It’s been precisely four-hundred and thirty-three times.”

“How would you know that?” He questioned, in absolute confusion at the direction the conversation had staggered into.

“With this.” A delicate hand displayed a small, leather bound volume, waved it in the air for a moment then whisked it back to wherever it had been produced from. “My tally book. I make a tic each time you tell me that. Once you reach a thousand or so, I might even start believing you completely instead of just provisionally.”

“How many times do I have to…”

“I just told you that, Garret dear.” She interrupted his rejoinder in mid stride. “I think something around a thousand should manage to lull me into believing you on that one.”

“You’re avoiding the subject here.” He told her.

“No, I’m actually going into exquisitely painful detail for you.”

“I meant,” Garret answered in a carefully even voice. “the subject of you risking yourself like you did earlier. NOT how many times I’ve told you this isn’t my fault!”

“Oh.” Deirdre emerged from behind the screen, clothed in an ice blue silk gown that did wonderful things for her already compelling eyes and grinned at him. “I was having fun with the ‘how many times’ topic. Couldn’t we stay with that one for a while?”

“No.”

“Sometimes you can be a real poop, you know that, dear?” The dark haired beauty gave him a brilliant smile then turned her back to him. “Lace me up?”

“I’d give up, but that would just encourage you more.” He grumbled, but tightened the laces at the back of her gown and tied them off in a halfway decent bow.

“Oh I think this conversation is encouraging me quite well, too.” She turned and quickly gave his cheek a peck with her slightly parted mouth. “I absolute refuse to be some shrinking violet of a girl who shrieks whenever she sees a mouse — no matter how fearsome that mouse might be. Nor will I sigh in resignation and wait for some man to come rescue me if I get into trouble. That kind of attitude would have gotten me severely beaten up almost snatched bald, and probably killed had I assumed it over the past few months. Argue THAT with me. You’ll lose, trust me.”

“But you were wearing PANTS!”

“Have you ever tried fighting in a skirt and petticoats?” She questioned sweetly. “If you want I can let you try it. But it doesn’t work all that well, I’ll warn you. You have this really great move planned, then your petticoats slow you down and the skirt manages to wrap around an ankle at just the wrong time.”

“Ladies neither wear pants nor get involved in deadly fights!” Garret shouted.

“It wasn’t all that deadly for me.” She pointed out with a smirk. “I had Mina at my back and all those nice sailors trying to keep the nasty men away from me.”

“See!” He pounced on that. “You DO wait on men to protect you!”

“I wasn’t waiting.” She primly countered while her nose rose slowly until it was pointed towards a distant and rather high corner. “They volunteered their help once I showed them that I was capable of taking care of myself in a fight.”

“They were probably enthralled by your — feminine charms so well displayed in tight canvas pants and nothing but a corset for a top.” He shot back. “Of COURSE they covered you during the fight! Getting an eyeful as they did!”

“So?” Deirdre gave him an insufferably insouciant smirk. “I was always taught to make use of any asset I had.”

“Even the ones you seem to find so — distasteful?” Garret questioned almost plaintively.

“Use what you have, dear.” She responded while giving him a pat on the cheek. “Complain about it when you have the leisure to do so in safety if you must, but in the crunch make use of everything you possess.”

“You sound disturbingly like my mother when you say that.”

“I knew I liked her!” Deirdre grinned.

“I’m doomed! The gods have decided to saddle me with a copy of my mother for a wife.” He grimaced.

“Oh, I think I’m an original.” Deirdre winked at him. “But, boyo, you’re going to be paying for that spanking for years to come. I won’t forget it.”

“What does that have to do with this?”

“Confused?” She questioned sweetly.

“Yes!”

“Good.” Deirdre gave him another peck on the cheek. “Since I’m a woman now, you should know that the ‘fair sex — the distaff side — the weaker sex — holds grudges closely and waits for just the right moment to strike back. Even if it happens to be years later.”

“You think like a woman.” He shot back. “How can you complain about being one so much?”

“I grew up with nothing but women and girls in the household, Garret.” She shrugged. “Of course I know how women think and do things. If I didn’t I’d be a fool who deserved whatever happened to me.”

“I give up.” Garret managed a smile, opened the cabin door, and offered his arm to her. “Mother and Father want to have a word with you.”

* * * *

“I thought that went well.” Deirdre told him once the ‘audience’ was finished and the couple had left the captain’s cabin. “Your father didn’t die of apoplexy and your mother was very supportive.”

“That’s because she would have been up on deck with you if her cabin door hadn’t been locked from the outside. With guards stationed in front of it.” He grumbled.

“Your father turned several interesting shades of pink and red.” She told him. “Does he do that often?”

“Only when one of his children manage to do something really stupid.” Garret answered tiredly. “Or when mother decides to pull some stunt that isn’t in character for a Duchess.”

“And just what kind of thing isn’t in character for a Duchess?” She questioned innocently.

“Putting on armor, taking a sword or another weapon, and sneaking out to fight beside your husband for one thing.”

“Armor…” Blue eyes sparkling with mischief and something more, Deirdre nodded. “Can you have some made for me?”

“I am NOT going there!” He retorted.

“Awww, come on.” She wheedled. “You know I’d be really cute in nice, snugly fitting armor.”

“I refuse to discuss this further.” He answered with as much dignity as he could muster. Though thoughts of her in such a getup were getting parts of him that he didn’t want her to notice until after they were married stirring.

“Oh, you’re no fun at all.” She pouted.

* * * *

Other than the crew of the ship shouting her name in obvious adoration, the group’s disembarkation went smoothly enough and their baggage was transferred from the hold into several waiting wagons.

“What are you sniffling about?” Garret asked as he assisted Deirdre into the waiting coach.

“I made friends aboard that ship.” She answered. “They didn’t care whether I was male, female, or something in between. They simply accepted me.”

“Is the coach comfortable enough for you?” He changed the subject, all too aware of the impact his intended had exercised almost unconsciously on the regular seamen and officers of the ship.

“It’s fine.” She responded while settling into the luxuriously padded seat. “Sure beats riding side saddle. But almost anything would be better than that.”

“What do you have against riding that way?”

“Try it sometime.” She shot back. “You have to wrap a knee that is shrouded by petticoats and a heavy skirt around that stupid long pommel — which chafes by the way — and if you don’t hang on to either the reins or the horse’s mane you’ll fall off even in a simple change of direction. Try it sometime I’m sure you’ll see what I mean once you do.”

“Warriors don’t ride sidesaddle.”

“See!” She grinned in triumph.

“You aren’t a warrior, my lady.” He pointed out.

“I’m not?” She innocently responded as she took the mace she had appropriated from Mina aboard the ship and lovingly stroked its haft with a coy look at him.

“Gods.” He breathed. “I am both looking forward to and dreading the day we are married.”

“Good.” She gave him a contented smile and leaned into him so he had no choice other than to put his arm around her slim shoulders.

“IF I do marry you, and that is still a pretty big IF…” She went on. “I really want you to anticipate the wedding night. Will I simply give myself to you or will I make you work for it?”

“I have a feeling it will be the second option.” Garret sighed.

“Is that so bad?” She asked with a little smile and tilt of her head that always sent him into thoughts of what she would be like in their marriage bed.

“A bride is supposed to be eager and willing, if a bit frightened.” He pointed out. “The groom isn’t supposed to be afraid of his new wife, you know.”

“But you aren’t afraid of me are you?” She questioned sweetly.

“At times, my love,” He returned. “you could scare the gods!”

“Oh, you say the nicest things!” She rewarded him with a brilliant smile and a quick kiss on the cheek.

There was absolutely nothing he could come up with for an acceptable rejoinder to that one. Sighing, and touching his cheek lightly with one hand once he had turned away from her to approach the mounted party that would escort the carriages and wagons he muttered. “The original Deirdre and the Gods are laughing at me just now. I know it!”

* * * *

Deirdre was soon joined by the Duchess Grace, Jessica, and Mina in the coach. Grace gave her son a speculative look, then a lift of one eyebrow to Deirdre with the slightest lift at one corner of her mouth. “Does my son always mutter when he leaves your presence, dear?”

“I Couldn’t tell you, Your Grace.” Deirdre shrugged. “He’ll yell at me, hug me then demand that I never ever do something ‘that’ stupid again, apologizes when I glare at him for the demand thing then politely, though a bit plaintively asks me to please stay out any more trouble.”

“Are you sure you weren’t born female?” Grace chuckled as she waved aside the beginnings of a protest from her son’s fiancée. “You handle Garret almost the same way I do with Lamont is all. Let him yell and get red in the face all he wants, cuddle a bit just to ease the tension and the rest. One would think you’d been doing this kind of thing, at least practicing it, all your life.”

“I grew up in a household of females.” Deirdre answered with a little sigh of her own. “It isn’t as if I hadn’t seen that done to a man before. Trying it and finding it worked with Garret was something of a surprise to me.”

“Deirdre, dear.” Grace smiled ruefully and smoothed the skirts of her own deep maroon travel dress. “My son is very deeply in love with you. When a man truly loves a woman she can literally step on every part of him, including his ego. I hope you don’t intend to crush him.”

“Oh, never that.” Deirdre actually looked shocked at the idea then sighed. “All I want to do is make him understand that I’m a person, not some porcelain doll who is so fragile I’ll break if someone looks at me wrong.”

“Makes sense to me.” Grace nodded then gave the younger woman a penetrating look. “How do you feel towards Garret?”

A thoughtful, and somewhat troubled pout appeared on the dark haired sometimes hellion’s face as she considered her answer. “I -- I love him, too, Your Grace. But I won’t let him muffle me in soft wrappings just to keep me around. I’d die living like that.”

“It’s all right, dear.” Grace gave the other’s hand an encouraging pat and winked. “That’s all I needed to hear, the sincerity in your voice and posture tells me you’re saying nothing but the truth. Besides, it took me a good two years to get Lamont settled down to even halfway accepting the idea that I wasn’t someone who needed to be ‘safely hidden away’. So don’t lose heart here. Garret’s a smart young man. I’m sure he’ll learn to accept your quirks without much in the way of protest in time.”

“I’ll believe that one when I see it. The tenth time or so.” Deirdre muttered much to the amusement of the other ladies in the coach with her.

“You goofed when you admitted to him that you loved him, you know.” Jessica added with a smirk.

“I thought he was asleep!” Deirdre countered with the red of a blush creeping from her cheeks to her throat and even lower.

“Never, ever,” Mina put in drily. “think that a man is safely insensate when you say something like that. They seem to awaken from even the deepest, most drunken sleep whenever one of us girls even gets close to uttering something like that.”

“Now you tell me that!” Deirdre grumbled much to the amusement of the other ladies.

* * * *

The countryside they traveled through began as prosperous farms on the coastal plain interspersed with well tended orchards and tracts of still wild forest. Deirdre, never having seen anything but the land around the city of Jhalmar was enthralled by the scenery. “This is sooo beautiful!”

“Chalmnessa,” Grace answered with more than a little pride, “is a very rich Duchy, in resources, people, and produce. I have been in many places and was born in the mountains of Illeisia, but the lands my husband administers are some of the most lovely and prosperous ones on the entire continent.”

“I’ve never been more than ten leagues from Jhalmar.” Deirdre sighed, eyes wide while she took in the scenery.

“Oh, this is the boring part of the Duchy.” Jessica put in with a grin. “Wait till we get into the hills, then the mountains.”

Mina, seated beside Deirdre, leaned over and gave the girl a light squeeze. “If it’s any help, I was the same way the first time I was brought over this road. I think they use it to impress people, but the truth is the whole Duchy really is this prosperous and peaceful.”

“You’re going to love it here.” Jessica reached across the space between benches and gave Deirdre’s hand an encouraging squeeze.

* * * *

“Is this real?” Deirdre whispered to Jessica as they settled onto a bench in the tavern section of the inn to await hot food and cool drinks. The staff and clientele both had gone out of their way to both look at and welcome Deirdre to Chalmnessa.

“Of course it is, dear.” Jessica answered with a grin. “These people are genuinely happy to both see and meet you. Now stop glowering and give them a smile, could you?”

“I’m not glowering.” The girl shot back then lifted an eyebrow and returned the grin. “If I was glowering they’d all be running by now.”

“Point taken, but smile and show your nice side to them.” The blonde answered with a quizzical tilt of her head as she finished. “Would that hurt you so much?”

“No.” Deirdre admitted then gave the serving girl who brought the wine for the ladies and ale for the men a sunny smile. “I’m just not used to people in taverns being nice to me. Usually I got thrown out. Without bruises if I was lucky.”

“Well, you aren’t some street urchin any longer, dear.” Grace put in with an encouraging pat to the girl’s hand. “Now you are the heir of Chalmanessa’s intended and you should get used to the idea that people are going to want to see you, welcome you, and just get a feel for what you are like. A Duke’s wife often has a great deal of influence on how that Duke deals with his people. Just give them the chance to see you without your defenses up and I’m sure they’ll love you every bit as fiercely as Garret and the rest of us do already.”

“I never thought of myself as all that lovable.” Deirdre snorted and unconsciously pushed an errant strand of thick, glossy black hair away from her face.

“Give the idea a chance, dear.” Grace chuckled. “You might actually like it once it completely settles into that rather obstinate Piece of granite you call a mind.”

“I am not…” Deirdre stopped, gave a thoughtful pout then laughed. “Okay, I am one obstinate, stubborn little bitch, but what can I say to that?”

“Admitting the fact is a good start.” Jessica answered with a straight face, though her eyes crackled with suppressed merriment.

“At least you admit that to yourself now, M’lady.” Mina put in, but couldn’t contain the chuckle that sneaked out from her tightly closed lips.

“To know that is to use it, dear one.” Grace put in with a wide smile on her face.

“You three are a really bad influence on me, you know that?” Deirdre grumbled then gave up on the thunderclouds she was trying to gather and let out a happy laugh instead. “Not to mention that you’re good for me.”

“Oh, that’s part of the whole deal, little darling.” Grace laughed. “We’re supposed to be supportive of my eldest son’s beloved. Fortunately, I discovered early on that I like her.”

“Right.” Jessica added. “We’re here to give you bad ideas that are fun, help keep you from making mistakes that aren’t fun at all, and just be around for you to talk to. I’m going to love having you for a sister-in-law. I was always afraid Garret would get saddled with a girl who was too full of her own self importance to be either a wife or the friend he needs.”

“Oh, Garret has a friend in me.” Deirdre nodded then pursed her lips in a frown. “But the part about ‘a lover’ I’m still not too sure of here.”

“Being his friend is the gateway to becoming his lover.” Grace answered matter-of-factly. “That is how I came to be Lamont’s wife. Fortunately, even though the marriage was arranged, I liked the big goof from the start. Loving him came later, but it did come, and our marriage is all the stronger because I was his friend first, then his lover and wife.”

“Well, don’t tell him I said this.” The Dark haired beauty admitted. “I love him so much it hurts. But I can’t bring myself to tell him that.”

“He knows, dear.” Grace assured her with a quick squeeze to the girl’s wrist. “In time you’ll be ready to tell him, but until then you both know that each of you loves the other. Sometimes saying it is superfluous.”

“But his tendency to try ordering me around has to go.” Deirdre firmly told the others. “I am not some little porcelain doll, or a mindless little bit of fluff to be told how to act.”

“Oh, trust me on that, dear.” Grace smirked. “If you were either of those things, my son wouldn’t be interested in you at all let alone head over heels in love with you. He simply needs to be trained a bit. Men are like that, you know. You have to literally beat the idea that you don’t require their constant protection into their thick, lovable heads. Once you accomplish that, you have the basis for a lasting relationship that will be a very rich one.”

I’m working on it.” Deirdre muttered.

“It took me two years to convince Lamont.” Grace laughed as she cast a fond look at her husband who was seated at another table and burying his face in large mug of ale at the time. “And I still have to remind him at times.”

“Unless it’s about getting between our legs,” Deirdre grumbled. “our men seem to have extremely short attention spans.”

“You, my dear.” Grace smiled. “Are a quick learner.”

“Learn?” Deirdre grimaced. “I’ve been making this up as I go along.”

Everyone in The Jolly Unicorn’s common room noticed that the party of noble ladies was having what seemed to be a very fun evening.

* * * *

“What now?” Deirdre questioned as the sound of their mounted escort galloping forward reached her through the windows of the coach. “Are we being attacked by bandits who are intent on either killing me or stealing me away to a lonely cave where their leader can take unfair advantage of me?”

“You’re waaay to suspicious, Deirdre, you know that?” Mina gave her head an exasperated little shake. “It’s the honor guard to escort us into the city is all.”

“Like I don’t have reason to be suspicious?” Deirdre shot back. “After all, people are REALLY trying to kill me. Hello? Did you hear that one?”

“Deirdre.” Mina calmly replied. “You are safer in Chalmnessa than you would be anywhere in the kingdom. Even the peasants here would die to defend you.”

“Why?” Deirdre asked, genuinely perplexed.

“You are the future duke’s betrothed.” Jessica answered. “These people would give their lives to protect you without a thought.”

“I’m not sure I want the responsibility for something like that.” Deirdre answered almost hesitantly.

“Given your present and future position,” Mina put in, “That is a responsibility you’ll always have to be aware of. Whether the people like you or not, you are going to be the future duke’s wife, and are deserving of that kind of devotion for no other reason.”

”Then please teach me ways not to abuse that.” The one time boy and new lady demanded.

“You’re learning it already.” Grace told her. “Concern is the first step. Care for the people you rule, dear, and they will care for you.”

* * * *

Deirdre greeted Glory with a soft voiced hello and stroke to the mare’s muzzle. The horse hopefully lipped at the young woman’s hand which caused her to let out a genuine laugh. “Sorry, greedy guts, I don’t have any of your favorite just now, but I’ll see what I can do later on.”

The mare nickered in response but appeared unappeased as one of the escorting soldiers offered the young woman a boost up to the saddle. “My lady?”

“Thank you.” Deirdre offered the man, nearly as young as she was a smile while accepting his assistance to reach the saddle and began settling herself for the short ride into the city.

“Ohhh.” She breathed in pleased surprise as she caught her first real view of Chalmnessa’s capitol city, Serai. The city spread comfortably through a series of gentle hills and was surrounded by a defensive wall that gleamed an almost painfully pure white in the sunlight. Dominating the city itself, the Ducal residence occupied a slightly higher hill and appeared to be watching over the lower city with the benevolence of a mother watching her children.
“I never expected it to be so beautiful!”

“You wouldn’t have believed me if I’d tried describing it to you.” Garret had quietly ridden to her side. “Now you see why people call Serai Jhalmar’s Jewel.”

“Oh yes.” The dark haired, if still a bit reluctant beauty let out a sigh. “It’s breathtaking.”

“It’s home.” Garret shrugged then grinned. “But even so, I still think Serai is the most beautiful city on the continent.”

“I only have Jhalmar to compare it to, Garret.” Deirdre answered while looking over the prosperous farms and pastures.

“Jhalmar is a beautiful city.” Garret nodded but then waved towards the pristine appearing walls of Serai. “But nothing on the continent can even hope to wave a candle to surpass my home.”

“I can believe that.” The dark haired girl agreed with a genuine smile.

“Now, you need to prepare yourself for when we enter the city.” The knight told her with a note of warning in his voice.

“Prepare for what?” There was an edge to Deirdre’s voice that promised mayhem of one kind or another.

“Word has preceded our coming and the people know that my intended is in our group, which is you, by the way, and I’m sure a lot of the population will be waiting to both see and greet you.”

“Oh.” The mayhem faded to be replaced with trepidation. “Will smiling and waving work?”

“At first it will do nicely.” Garret chuckled then waved her indignant protest away. “I know, I know, your temperament isn’t really suited to being warm and nice, but you’ll manage. The thing is people traditionally expect the future bride of the Duke’s heir to personally meet a few of them on her first time in Serai.”

“Define ‘personally’, please.”

“As in meeting some of the townsfolk face to face and actually exchanging polite words with them.” Garret answered. “It’s expected, so please don’t be your usual scowling self for this. It means a lot to them and to me.”

“I’m not all that good at ‘making nice’, Garret.” She answered with a little sigh. “I just don’t have much practice with that.”

“You’ll do fine, my love.” He assured her with a pat to her thigh. “The people don’t expect nice, just honest and open to them this time around. But nice would be a plus if you could bring yourself to manage that.”

“I’m not going to get out of this marriage, even if I’m not ‘nice’ to them, am I?” Deirdre snorted then grinned. “So I’ll try, that’s all I’ll give you on this one, darling.”

“That works for me, dear one.” He smirked.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” She accused.

“I always enjoy being in your company, my love.” He returned with another smirk. “Especially when you know you have to be on your best behavior.”

“I do have a list.” She growled at him. “A long one with special marks for the stuff I need to get even with you for most. This one will probably be right at the top of that list. Right behind that spanking.”

“Would it help to say I’m sorry for that one?” He offered. “I HAD to get your full attention some way.”

“A well painted sign would have worked for that.” She snorted then favored him with a brief glare. “But you got my attention, fully. I hope you don’t regret that in the times to come.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure I will.” Garret quietly answered.

“Damned right you will.” Deirdre grumbled before going back to enjoying the scenery. “But don’t worry, I’ll be quite careful about being ‘nice’ to your future subjects.”

“Good, and don’t forget that they’ll be your future subjects, too.” He answered. “The Duchess rules as much as the Duke in Chalmnessa.”

“That’s something I’ll definitely keep in mind.” She told him with an odd, curious expression on her face then grinned again. “Though it is nice to know that women have some say in things around here. Especially since I hadn’t planned on being a woman at all not so long ago, let alone a Duchess.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Garret probed his cheek with his tongue to restrain a laugh. “To know you is to love you, Deirdre.”

* * * *

The crowds in the city streets were no worse than she’d handled in Jhalmar. Deirdre smiled, waved, and called back to some of the comments called their way.

“Doing good, my love.” Garret encouraged her when she started to flag a bit. “The people are already seeing you as not only beautiful, but accessible. You’ve won their hearts already, which I expected.”

“Just from smiling, waving, and shouting back a smart assed comment off and on?”

“Yes.” He grinned. “The comments are wonderful, and make you seem much more human to them, by the way.”

“Far be it from me to ruin your — our — future.” She answered.

“Now the real test comes.” He warned her. “We greet selected people on the steps of the Ducal Palace.”

“Do I have to be polite?”

“Yes.” Garret told her firmly.

“I would be, anyway.” She laughed. “I just wanted to see your face when I asked that question.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Oh yes, priceless!” She laughed. “Your expression was one that someone would wear when the sky was literally falling on their head and squirming into their brains on top of that.”

“You are an evil woman.” He answered with a sigh.

“I know, and I’m practicing to be even better at it.” Deirdre chuckled. “Do you think that will make me a worthy Duchess?”

“So.” He grinned. “You admit that you’ll marry me?”

“That’s still provisional.” She countered. “The question was hypothetical.”

“Then the answer is yes, that will do.”

“Good.” Deirdre smirked in her turn. “You’re obviously a smart man. I like that.”

“And you, my dear,” Garret responded, “are a devious, controlling, scheming bitch.”

“Thank you, dear.” Deirdre gave him a sunny smile. “It’s nice to know I’m actually doing this girl thing right.”

* * * *

“Is this guy for real?” Deirdre quietly questioned Garret from the side of her mouth as a particularly obsequious merchant continued spouting platitudes that had gone from being flattering, to amusing then all the way down to annoying. All in less than three minutes.

“Yes, dear.” Garret sighed and gave her shoulder a light, encouraging pat disguised as simply placing his hand possessively on her shoulder. “Barrance is very rich, very influential, and consequently, very pompous. But under all that he’s a good man.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind though at the moment I find it a little hard to believe.” She whispered back before favoring the man with a gracious smile and gently interrupting his soliloquy with warm thanks for the gift of precious perfumes he’d presented her with.

The rotund, bejeweled nabob beamed at her, bowed quite low, then relinquished his spot in line for the next person.

“Thank the gods.” The petite beauty shook her head briefly to move an errant strand of midnight hair off her cheek. “Do you think it will offend people like him when they learn I absolutely detest being fawned over?”

“Like me and the rest of us who now know and love you,” Garret quirked his mouth into a small grin, “they’ll get used to you. Eventually.”

“I’m not used to me yet.” She grumbled in response.

“Well, you’re doing very well, and this ordeal is over with.” The knight said with a grin. “You did very well, no cursing, glaring, or hitting happened at all.”

“Wait.” Deirdre ignored that jibe as she stopped the withdrawal of the Ducal party from the top of the steps leading into the palace. Her eyes were on a girl — young woman actually — who had been in the group of greeters but largely ignored. The girl’s dress was a bit ragged, but scrupulously clean, and neat, plus she held a bouquet of flowers in her hands tightly enough to strangle a small cow it appeared from the whiteness in her knuckles.

Her hopeful, and enthusiastic expression had slowly changed to simply hopeful, then downcast as the guards had chosen those who would be allowed to greet the new Duchess-to-be and she was slowly turning away with disappointment and defeat clear in the set of her shoulders.

“One more, Garret.” Deirdre told him then turned to the guards with an impish grin. “I know this should be over and you’re glad it is, but I need to meet one more person if you don’t mind?”

“Who would it be, M’lady?” One of the guards questioned as the hopefuls still gathered at the base of the marble staircase turned in anticipation.

“That flower girl.” She answered, indicating the girl she’d noted. “So far all I’ve met are rich, or militarily powerful, or political bigwigs. I wish to meet someone from the more common stock of this Duchy. Please escort her up her, if you would?”

“That is NOT acceptable, my Lady.” A palace functionary whispered close to her ear. He received a glare that could have melted steel in response.

“This is supposed to be ‘my day’ to meet the populace is it not?”

“Of course it is, and you’ve met…”

“Bullshit.” She responded without worry at the man’s flinch over her choice of words. “Bring that girl up here, and do it now, please.”

The implication that as the future Duchess, she could make life truly miserable for the man was rife in her request, and that one was wise enough to understand the fact. “Of course, my lady, it shall be done.”

The girl, with a surprised and perplexed expression on her face ascended the stairs until she was standing just below the level Deirdre was on. With a graceful curtsey, she greeted the future Duke’s intended. “My Lady, you do me a great honor by accepting my poor gift.”

“No, dear.” Deirdre answered with a warm smile. “You honor ME by offering it.”

“It is nothing but a simple bouquet, my lady.” The girl responded shyly.

“Oh, it is much more than that, dear.” Deirdre answered softly while holding out a hand to the girl. “Come join me here for a few moments, would you? It would please me a great deal if you would.”

The girl’s eyes widened and she darted short almost frantic glances at the courtiers and guardsmen until Deirdre’s hand gently pulled her forward to stand on the same level the lady and her lord occupied. Deirdre smiled again and soothed the girl. “It’s all right. This day is for me to meet the people and the people to meet me. Is there anything wrong with me wishing to know the common people as well as the rich and powerful?”

“No.” The girl admitted.

“Then come up, stand beside me, and offer your gift.”

At Garret’s encouraging nod, the girl allowed Deirdre to pull her up to the marble slab that ended the stairs and allowed access to the Ducal palace.

“My Lady.” The girl kept her eyes lowered as she curtsied again. “I am Rose, a simple flower seller. I have no rich gift to honor your coming with, but dare offer you these.”

Deirdre accepted the bouquet, a beautiful arrangement of white roses around a single royal purple orchid with the innocent white blooms of baby’s breath interspersed to dilute the arrogance of the rest of the arrangement.

“It’s lovely, Rose.” She breathed in the scents from the bouquet and momentarily closed her eyes in pleasure. “This, this is the finest gift I’ve received all day.”

Rose’s eyes lit with pleasure and joy at that. “It is nothing, my Lady. It is nothing but a simple flower arrangement. Surely it pales in comparison to the other gifts you’ve received today.”

“Hardly.” Deirdre carefully passed the bouquet to the functionary who had tried stopping this meeting with the simple command. “Put these in water, and make sure they are well tended.

Your gift was one that you did with your own hands, if I’m not mistaken?” She questioned.

“Yes, My Lady.” Rose answered softly with a blush of both pleasure and embarrassment.

“That,” The midnight haired lady replied, “makes it far more precious than any artisan made gift presented to me by people who could never have made what they offered.”

Rose smiled in response, but still seemed uncertain.

“Rose.” Deirdre told her. “A gift’s true value lies in what the giver put into it. The finest silks, gold, or jewelry that someone purchased to impress me pale in comparison to a simple bouquet that one poor girl made in the hope that I’d notice. Well I did notice, dear. The love you put into this flower arrangement will humble me for years to come, and to not acknowledge what you did would have been a terrible injustice.”

“Thank you, My Lady.” Rose had tears in her eyes.

“Thank you, Rose.” Deirdre hugged the girl and whispered. “I’ll expect flowers from you every day when I’m here. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy or precious. Wildflowers would do nicely with the way you can arrange them. But do bring them to me, please.”

“I — I will be honored to do that, My Lady.” Rose tried to curtsey again but Deirdre caught her upper arms to stop her from doing that.

“My name is Deirdre.” She told the girl. “And I value what you do highly. Remember that.”

* * * *

“That was well done.” Garret hugged Deirdre.

“I was a commoner for most of my life.” She replied, but let herself be taken into the hug with a pleased little sigh. “Those people work their hands to the bone and often with nothing in return but a subsistence level of living. You make very sure that girl is well paid for her flower arrangements, dear or you will get some misery from me.”

“Oh, she will be.” Garret nodded while giving her another squeeze. “You just won the common people over, do you know that?”

“That wasn’t my intention.” She shot back. “The poor girl had obviously worked very hard on that bouquet and was really crushed that she hadn’t been chosen to meet me.”

“My point, exactly.” He countered. “Of all the people who greeted you, you took a common flower girl and pulled her to where you were. Though that could cause problems with the merchants and soldiers, it was well done.”

“I’ll charm the merchants and soldiers as needed.” Deirdre answered then grimaced. Gods! I don’t believe I just said that!”

“You will be a truly formidable Duchess.” Garret laughed.

“Would I get into a LOT of trouble if I used my mace on you right now?” She asked. “You know, just a little tap or something to bring you to your senses?”

“Probably.” He answered with a straight face then grinned. “Especially if you did that right out here in public and all.”

Sighing, Deirdre shook her head, dislodging a thick lock of midnight hair that immediately started teasing one of her breasts. Looking up at him through lowered eyelashes she flashed him a decidedly evil grin. “You never just accept taking your medicine the easy way, do you?”

“Now that you mention it, no.” Garret shrugged while lifting an eyebrow and flashing her another infectious grin. “The chase to get me to take my medicine was always so entertaining that by the time I finally got caught, I was laughing too hard to care.”

“Brat.”

“I don’t deny it.” The man probed a cheek with his tongue and shrugged. “Admit it. Driving your elders crazy is half the fun of being a child.”

“This relationship is going to be sooo interesting.” Deirdre thoughtfully muttered.

“I do believe I’ve said the same thing numerous times, dear.” He laughed.
Regardless of their being in public, she whapped him in the back of the head, but with the flat of her hand, not the mace.

* * * *

“Are you still pouting over that little love tap I gave you yesterday?” Deirdre questioned Garret the next day while admiring the flower arrangement that had just been delivered to her.

“My ears rang for several minutes after that, my dear lady.” The knight responded and shook his head. “I’ve had full grown men who are proven warriors hit me with less of an effect. You have one strong arm for someone who appears as delicate as you do.”

“Why thank you, my lord.” Deirdre smirked then gave him a long look. “You are pouting.”

“You could at least have waited until we were inside.”

“Oh, is the big strong man afraid the people will think he’s pussy whipped?” She sweetly asked.

“I had that one coming.” He sighed and shook his head with a wry little smile. “No, but it was embarrassing. At least the people gathered know that they won’t have a shrinking violet or wimp for a duchess. I suppose that’s a good thing.”

“This future duchess thing isn’t set in stone yet, you know.” She told him with a tilt to her chin that invited argument.

“I’m patient, dear.” Garret carefully answered. “You would be a good one, for what it’s worth.”

“I won’t discuss that just now.”

“Oh, come on, dear.” Garret was nearly pleading. “You’re in my home, we’re betrothed by the King and Queen themselves. Can’t you just go with events?”

“I don’t know.” She said quietly. “Something in me just won’t let me do that. I still have some kicking and screaming to do here, I guess.”

“I’d noticed.”

“Oh, don’t take it so hard.” She soothed. “I never in my life took the easy way for getting through anything.”

“Again, I’d noticed.”

“But I generally get to where I’m going. Eventually.”

“One can hope.” Garret answered with a sigh.

* * * *

“Oh, I do NOT believe this!” Deirdre glowered while surveying the kitchen and its staff. She was being shown through the keep, especially the sections where the lady of the house held suzerain.

“Three cases of food poisoning in the past year may be acceptable for some houses, but I cannot believe Her Grace the Duchess would allow it.” She stalked into the area, and centered her attention on the tubs where pots were cleaned. “Haven’t you people heard of pumice stones? Or hot water?”

The kitchen staff stared, and started grumbling until she held out one hand with the command. “Apron.”

“What was that, my lady?” The chief cook questioned with a gleam of anticipation in her eyes.

“Get me an apron.” Deirdre answered shortly. “I wasn’t always a lady, and if I can do this kind of thing, so can all of you. Now get me that apron and boil some water.”

Grace looked in and saw Deirdre industriously scrubbing a pot with a pumice stone and steaming water then turned to her husband with a nod and a smile. “I think she’ll do. Our servants got lazy while we were gone.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem from now on.” Lamont chuckled. “Our son’s lady is getting them in line quite nicely.”

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Sixteen
 By Maggie Finson
 
Kidnapped

or, You Guys Are in SOOO Much Trouble!

 

“They have safely arrived in Serai.” Roric told his co-conspirators with the displeasure he felt about that clear in his posture and voice. “Your pirates, Lord Jentis, failed miserably.”

Jentis, a representative, though covert, from Cardasia and the only one in the room who wasn’t afraid of the man, glowered at Roric. “You neglected to warn us about the cannon, My Lord, and my government is NOT pleased about that . The ferocity that crew defended both their ship and the lady with was also unexpected.”

“Don’t try to hide your failure to perform a simple boarding, grab, and retreat with excuses.” Roric glowered at the man who remained obstinately unfazed.

“With the coming of the Lady Deirdre, and Lord Garret’s already high esteem from the people of this nation in general,” Jentis quietly answered. “it seems that we have ‘been backing the wrong horse’ in this particular race. My government has ordered me to withdraw our support for your bid at taking Jhalmar’s throne.”

“You DARE tell me that in my own stronghold?” Roric turned several interesting shades of red while staring daggers at the Cardasian.

“Need I remind you, lord Roric?” Jentis ignored the blush of rage Roric’s face was displaying as he said. “Killing me, or even injuring me, or any of my people would result in repercussions that could not be blamed on Cardasia, but would nevertheless be quite — uncomfortable if not fatal for you.”

“I can at least count on your discretion in all of this?” Roric softened his approach and forced a smile.

“Of course, my lord.” Jentis nodded with a thin smile. “It wouldn’t do at all for Cardasia’s purported complicity in either the attempted kidnapping or murder of the woman who will quite likely become Queen of Jhalmar to be intimated at all. Do continue with your efforts. We will neither help nor hinder.”

The gathering watched the man turn his back on them and arrogantly walk towards the door.

Just as he reached the door, Jentis turned with a wicked smile to address the gathering one last time. “Don’t worry, we won’t send warning to Cedric, Lamont, or anyone else. If you succeed you will have Cardasia’s friendship. But to receive that, you must be successful. Backing a losing candidate in even a shadow succession war is not something that would be considered at all wise by my government and it appears now that you have little chance of winning this.”

“In other words,” Roric grated out. “we’re on our own.”

“Precisely. I bid you good day, gentlemen.” Jentis answered before turning to walk out the door.

* * * *

“The servants are in kind of awe of you.” Garret told Deirdre as they made their way to dinner.

“Why, because I deigned to actually wash some pots?” She shot back with a little moue of her mouth that was both priceless and captivating.

“Partially.” The knight nodded with a grin. “But also because you showed them in no uncertain terms that you had standards that you were quite willing to do yourself, with or without them. You are a lady who isn’t afraid of work the commons have to do.”

“Oh, come on.” She snorted. “Not too long ago I was one of the commons and counted myself lucky if I got a few coppers for washing some pots.”

“Exactly my point.” Garret said with a tiny smirk. “The servants now know that you were once in their place and won’t accept laziness or shoddy work. That can’t be a bad thing, my love.”

“Would you please stop with that ‘MY love’ stuff?” She asked in an almost plaintive tone of voice. “I’m having enough trouble getting my head and spirit around the fact that you even think of me that way, let alone actually being there.”

“Just think of it as my own special reinforcement for who and what you are now.”

“I still have that mace, you know.” She gave him a dark look, then relented and laughed. “Oh, I don’t know why it is, but you’re good for me, Garret.”

“Could it be because you love me?” He questioned innocently.

“Love alone isn’t enough.” She countered with a little frown that made her face all the more lovely even if she didn’t realize that. “I have to know that this is right for both of us and not some errant strand of an idiotic prophecy that I’m constrained to obey.”

“Then allow me to show you something.” He answered, then took her in his arms and put a gentle, but insistent kiss on her lips.

Deirdre struggled for all of a few seconds, then melted into him, pushing her body against his and opening her mouth in welcome to his kiss.

Garret responded with a gentle entry into her mouth with his tongue, then started playing with her upper palate and gums with his tongue.

When he withdrew, Deirdre did the same thing for him, with results that were electrifying for both of them. Garret pulled away while adjusting himself into something that didn’t look like he was wearing a codpiece, and Deirdre fanned herself before breathlessly saying. “Well. That was — interesting.”

“Only interesting?” He asked.

“Okay, fun, too.” She admitted.

“My room is that way.” He gestured with a smile.

“We aren’t married yet, dear one.” Deirdre replied with a little regret in her tone of voice. “I won’t have people counting the days and months when our first child decides to show up.”

“Then you accept my proposal?” He questioned.

“Not yet!” She retorted then flashed a mischievous little grin. “You are my one true love, Garret, no matter how much I try to ignore that. Of course I’m going to marry you! But don’t get too complacent here. I still have some kicking, screaming, and revenge to get through. And you’re going to work for it, bucko.”

“As if I haven’t been doing that.” He muttered with a little sigh. “What will it take to get you to accept the idea of being a wife — my wife?”

“The judge is still out and considering that one.” Deirdre shrugged with a quick wink. “But I understand she’s leaning towards a decision in your favor. That is providing, of course, that you maintain such a gentlemanly and considerate approach to things here. No more spankings allowed without mutual consent, okay?”

“So long as you will end up as my wife.” He grinned. “I’ll even let you spank me in return for what I did to you.”

“Can I use a paddle?” She grinned. “Or the flat of a sword?”

“Oh the abuse I’m letting myself in for.” He sighed. “But yes, whatever it takes. I love you, Deirdre, and want us to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“Oh, that’s sweet.” She smiled and touched his cheek with one hand. “Just one thing, let’s not tell your parents I’m considering capitulation so easily. I think they’d be very disappointed if we did.”

“Probably so.” He agreed with a chuckle. “Though mother is convinced that you’d already agreed but are just too stubborn to admit the fact to anyone.”

“I am.” She smirked. “After all, I can’t let people think I just caved in or anything so simple, now can I?”

“Gods forbid!” Garret put on a shocked expression. “You? Giving in to anything at all? That would cause major storms, earthquakes, tidal waves, things like that all over the world.”

“You’re making fun of me now.” She pouted.

“I love you. You love me. If I can’t make fun of you — at least in private, well we should be able to have fun with each other in our relationship shouldn’t we, dear one?” He responded with a grin.

“Remind me to make you pay for that one.” Deirdre grumbled then grinned up at him. “But not right away. I want another kiss.”

Garret was all too happy to oblige her.

* * * *

“Gonna be hard grabbing that one when she’s always escorted like that.” Grindle commented from the cover of a stand of trees jutting out from the main forest near Serai.

Sable, a small, lithe man who moved in sudden flashes of motion replied to his bigger companion. “Patience, Grindle my friend, in time someone will slip up. All we need do is watch and strike when the opportunity presents itself.”

“We could die of old age with the waiting.” Hess, the third member of the group grumbled. “She is the future Duchess of Chalmnessa, and possibly the next Queen, I don’t think anyone is going to get lax in their watching over her.”

“Ahh, think positive here, my friend.” Sable lightly clapped the man on the shoulder. “Think of all the wonderful gold we’ll get for our perseverance on this.”

“Gold is only good if you have it in your hands or purse.” Hess countered. “There are other profitable things we could be doing right now instead of this senseless, constant waiting for someone to slip up with the little bitch’s escorts.”

“With what I hear about the Lady,” Sable shrugged, “she’ll slip her leash soon enough.”

* * * *

“You and Garret seem to be having more pleasant time together lately.” Mina observed with a knowing smirk as she and Deirdre rode through the countryside — accompanied by ten armed and armored horsemen Lamont had insisted on.

“I suppose we are.” The one-time boy shrugged then let herself show a small grin. “I guess I’m getting used to this girl stuff and am starting to not panic over the woman stuff that leads to.”

“I think that is wise.” Mina grinned back with a twinkle in her eyes. “But don’t worry about it, every girl panics at one time or another when considering what it means, really means, to be a woman. Especially when there’s a man involved.”

“Thanks. I think.” Deirdre snorted with a grumbled, “I was a boy, B — O — Y, less than a year ago so is it any surprise at all that I’d panic when considering what it means to be a woman with a man!”

“No, dear, it wouldn’t be.” Mina answered equably. “But consider this. You could have done a whole lot worse than getting Garret to worry about in that respect.”

“True.” Deirdre answered while thinking, And not much better if every god in existence worked to arrange the match.

“So have you kissed him yet?” The maid/bodyguard teased, and widened her eyes as her charge blushed. “You have! Tell me about it!”

* * * *

Eel watched his hirelings arguing about the profitability of continuing their watch on Deirdre with a long sigh of exasperation. Possibly, he’d need to give the trio a little more incentive to get the snatch done. Like a not so subtle threat aimed at their personal welfare. Those three idiots were good at kidnapping, but not so great at collecting and keeping the ransoms, and were very considerate of their own well being.

If it went that far, he knew he could present them with a non-fatal, if painful example of what failure would get them. It might be a good idea to become a bit more hands on in this affair just to make certain it worked out as planned. Besides, that bitch who was always with the target had some payback coming. With those thoughts, and the decision he’d made about them the assassin chuckled and faded back into the forest

* * * *

“You know I’m not good with things like this, Garret!” Deirdre hissed through clenched teeth that may have looked like a smile if someone was very nearsighted or not paying attention. Giving the mob of merchant princes and their wives, minor lords and ladies, military leaders — with wives or mistresses, and political functionaries schmoozing in the great hall a careful looking over, she actually ground her teeth for a moment before her future husband (provisionally) gave her arm a bit less than gentle squeeze.

“You told me you’d charm all of these people, too, on the day of your welcoming.” He answered while offering non-committal smiles to those worthies who were working to catch his attention. “Now is the time to do that.”

“Me and my big mouth.” She muttered then nodded with a heavy sigh. “All right, but I don’t have to do more than pretend to enjoy this do I?”

“Oh, you might actually like a few of these people.” Garret lifted his eyebrows. “Not all of them are your conventional hangers on or courtiers.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Blue eyes flashing with a mix of amusement and annoyance, she responded with a mischief filled wink and grin. “I’ll knock their hose off, or whatever some of that stuff they’re wearing is.”

“All I ask is that you remember who gave you what at the original greeting.” Garret soothed. “And that you thank them for the wonderful gifts.”

“I’m sure you or some functionary will remind me if I forget one, gods forbid.” She said with a chuckle. “I have the list memorized, dear. Now stop looking so worried, and let’s go charm these people.”

“Your wish is my command, dear lady.” Garret intoned.

“Stop that!” Slapping his shoulder lightly, she laughed in her clear bell-like tones, starting her captivation, not to mention conquest, of Chalmnessa’s gentry.

* * * *

“That girl is amazing.” Grace observed as she and Lamont watched their son and his intended move from one small group to another. “She smiles, says something, and people simply fall in love with her.”

“Even when some of her responses are more than a bit acerbic?” Lamont chuckled. “But I agree. A rose is lovely bloom, with a heady scent and gives pleasure in more than one way. Yet it comes with thorns that people accept for the joy the flower gives them. Our future daughter-in-law is that way no matter how much she may protest the fact when it’s brought up.”

“Too true.” Grace agreed taking her husband’s arm. “Now it’s our turn to go ‘charm the gentry’ again.”

“A bit more enthusiasm might help there, darling.” Lamont pointed out.

“I’ll be enthusiastic when I have to be.” She retorted with a little grin. “Not before.”

“Gods, you’d think Deirdre was your daughter, the way you two are.”

“Quit complaining, Lamont.” Grace laughed. “You’ve been conquered too. Admit it.”

“Twice now, my love.” He agreed with a chuckle of his own.

“I’ll reward you for that answer later.” Looking at him through lowered lashes and grinning, Grace kissed him on the cheek. “There’s a down payment on the promise.”

* * * *

“This, Garret introduced a young man who looked a lot like him. “Is my little brother, Brent.”

“Brent, it’s good to finally see you.” Deirdre smiled while allowing the young man to kiss the palm of her hand. “If I were to say that Garret has talked constantly about you, I’d be lying through my teeth, but I’m glad to finally have the opportunity to meet the other sibling in Garret’s family.”

“Ah, an honest woman!” Brent grinned as he rose from the bow that kissing her hand had him in. “I do appreciate that. Unfortunately, Garret and I seldom agree on much of anything. But this time I do find myself in hearty agreement with his choice of brides. You are lovely, obviously possess wit and the ability to use it, and don’t flinch from telling people the truth. I’m sure my brother has told you little or nothing about me.”

“An oversight I will correct, brother.” Garret chuckled then sighed. “The past while has been — rather busy — if you catch my meaning.”

“Oh, I do, Garret.” Brent nodded with a serious expression on his face. “I may argue with you about almost anything, but if you have need, you know I’ll be beside you.

I like to argue.” He confided not too softly to Deirdre. “It keeps my wits sharp and helps my dullard of a brother maintain his.”

“Stop lying to my betrothed.” Garret good naturedly retorted before warning Deirdre. “My brother could charm the scales off a viper then sell them back to the poor snake.”

“Oh, that’s an exaggeration.” Brent countered with an infectious smile. “I’d have to sell them to someone else then tell the snake where it could buy them back.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your brother?” Deirdre whispered almost fiercely into Garret’s ear.

“As if I’ve had time to tell you about much of anything so far, dear.” He whispered back. “I’ve been too busy trying to keep you out of trouble and alive in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Good point.” She admitted but gave him a mild glare. “Still, you should have told me you have a brother.”

“It kind of got lost in the shuffle of gentling you down to being a lady, then the poisoning, and that cat fight in the atrium and all…”

“The cat fight happened before that poisoning.” She pointed out then let out a little laugh. “But I’ll admit that you have had reason to be more than a little distracted lately.”

“No, really?” He questioned.

“Yes, so stop making excuses and tell me.” She went on. “Do you trust your brother?”

“Of course, I trust him.” Garret answered with a bit of offended sibling in the response. “I may not get along with him all the time, but brothers tend to fight, after all.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear.” Deirdre gave his hand a squeeze and let go to give Brent a hug. “Hello, future brother, it’s good to meet you. If you wish to have an argument, just come see me in the future. I’m sure I can give you one worthy of your expectations.”

“So I’ve heard, Lady.” Brent gave her a brilliant smile and a small bow of respect. “I’ll look forward to that.”

“Me, too.” Deirdre answered and gave the young man a quick peck to the cheek.

“I think I approve of my future sister-in-law, brother.” Brent grinned.

* * * *

“You forgot to tell me you had a brother?!!” Deirdre scowled at Garret and took a stance that showed she was more than ready for a confrontation once Brent had taken his leave of the couple.

“It never came up.” That worthy responded weakly. “Brent is the black sheep of the family, always going against tradition and doing his best to embarrass us. I just didn’t think to tell you about him.”

“Embarrass…” Deirdre put on a thoughtful expression. “Is he a wastrel?”

“No.”

“A womanizer?”

“No.”

“Does he work with your enemies to undermine your family?”

“He would never do that!” Garret shot back. “Brent is one of the family. He just isn’t all that good at bowing to tradition or expectations.”

“Then what is the problem your family seems to have with him?”

“He doesn’t agree with anyone on anything.” Garret let out a heavy sigh. “Regardless of the topic, Brent always takes the opposing view.”

“So tell me why that’s a bad thing. I don’t suppose it’s occurred to anyone that he does that on purpose just to get people to rethink their positions?” She asked.

“Yes it has.” Garret nodded with a sigh. “But it’s still extremely annoying.”

“But does it work?”

“Does what work?” He asked in near exasperation.

“Do people rethink their positions once your brother has made his point?”

“Of course we do.” Garret shook his head. “We already know that, but it’s still very annoying, he could learn to use a bit of tact with his arguments, is all.”

“You know.” Deirdre grinned. “I think I could like this brother of yours.”

“You would.” He grumbled then chuckled.
.

* * * *

“So you are the one who has finally captured my big brother’s interest.” Brent greeted Deirdre in the hall outside the dining room with a bow and an enigmatic smile. “I had been resigned to the idea of inheriting rule of Chalmnessa simply because Garret didn’t seem all the interested in women. You have my undying gratitude, Lady Dierdre.”

Giving the young man a long, careful look, she nodded then grinned. “I do think I’d rather have your gratitude than enmity, Sir.”

“Oh, you give me too much credit, Lady.” Brent grinned back with that twinkle in his deep green eyes that Garret possessed when making a joke or simply having fun. “I am nothing more than a second son who has been searching for a place to insure my continued comfort in life.”

“Then I might suggest that you go speak with a dance instructor named Vertigan in Jhalmar.” Deirdre answered with a quirk of her mouth that could have been either a grin or a painful joke — with Brent as the butt of it.

“Your words don’t say the same thing as your eyes, sister-to-be.” Brent chuckled. “I think I like you already. So many layers in you and none that are obvious have even come close to reaching the core of your being. Fascinating.”

“Should I be glad that you are so impressed?” She questioned and gave him her almost famous mischievous grin.

“No, m’lady.” Brent returned quite seriously. “I should be happy that you haven’t found me wanting. I get the impression that you do not suffer fools or laziness with even a hint of gladness.”

“My name is Deirdre.” She answered with a genuine smile. “Though I may protest the fact rather loudly at times, you and I will soon be related through marriage. And no, I find excuses to be quite tedious.”

“Good answer — Deirdre.” Brent grinned and kissed the palm of her hand that time. “I only wish I had found you before Garret did.”

“No you don’t.” She laughed. “Trust me on that one.”

* * * *

Sham, the gatekeeper, a minor functionary in Serai, was frantic. His wife and six year old daughter had gone to the market to get a few things for a gathering of friends the next evening. It should have taken an hour, no more. But they had been gone for twelve. No one had seen them, or even had a reasonable guess as to where they were.

He had checked Aranis’, his wife’s family, and the pair hadn’t been there in days. Aranis’ friends, even acquaintances, hadn’t seen her or their child.

Just as he was getting ready to go to the guard to report them missing, or start using his connections to have even better searchers begin looking for them there was a short, sharp rap at the door of the small, but neatly kept apartment he and his family occupied.

There was a piece of parchment that had been pushed under the door when he reached it. Opening the door, he saw no one at all in the area. Given the time was well past dinner not noting someone in the area was troubling. Reaching down to pick up the parchment, he opened it as he was straightening his slender form.

The message he read almost undid him. But it was his wife and child in the balance.

He would be where it told him to be, at the appointed time, and do what the kidnappers demanded.

* * * *

“I worry about you.” Garret told Deirdre as they shared a small bottle of very nice wine following the formal ball to welcome the bride to be of the Duchy’s heir.
“Why?” She asked in genuine curiosity. “I’ve behaved myself this time around, charming everyone you introduced me too, tonight.”

“Not about how you affect the people you meet.” He went on. “You tend to make yourself a bit too accessible to anyone at all.”

“Make up your mind, Garret.” She shot back while moving a thick lock of curling black hair away from her face as she gave him an irritated look. “Either I let the people approach me, or I let you lock me up in some tower. Now which option do you think I’d take?”

“Umm.” Garret answered. “I can’t see you as someone who would tolerate being locked safely away from anything. Even if doing that might preserve your life!”

“Define safely, dearest.” Deirdre smirked.

“Oh, let me think.” He went on. “How about if you didn’t challenge everything that comes your way? Then we have people who are really, REALLY, trying to KILL you?”

“Each life has its problems, dear.” Dierdre answered with a mischievous grin.

“But why does yours have to have to so many complications?” He asked with real pain in the question.

“Garret, my love.” She answered. “I had complications when I was a boy. Why should those go away now? Some people, myself included, just seem to come with complications regardless of how anyone feels about it.”

“Good Point.” He answered.

* * * *

Sham was a gatekeeper, so no one questioned his moving from gate to gate, even at that time of night as he carefully kept track of the hourly bells to make sure the gate he needed to be at would come to his ‘attention’ at precisely the right time. It wouldn’t do to be noticed loitering too long in any one spot on this night, people who saw him might think, rightly, that he was waiting for someone. That was something he couldn’t afford at all.

At the prearranged signal he’d both been dreading and waiting for, Sham opened the small postern to admit three figures clothed in dark garments. One of them nodded to him with a flash of teeth that could have been a smile. “Well done, gate keeper. Do you have the rest of what we asked for?”

“More like demanded.” Sham returned quietly while handing over directions to a certain lady’s apartments. “Now where is my family?”

“You’ll be with them soon enough.” Grindle promised. “Providing you told no one we were coming.”

“I swear to you, I haven’t done that.” The gatekeeper answered.

“Good.” Grindle smiled, “Then by all means, join your little family with our blessings.”

The flash of a blade told Sham he had been cruelly used just before a heavy hand covered his mouth to prevent any warnings being shouted and the dagger ripped into his vitals.

“Hide that.” Grindle wiped his dagger while dispassionately watching the body of their dupe. “Somewhere it won’t be found anytime soon. I’ll wait for you here then we have a job to do, my friends.”

The fourth of the group, who had watched the others work up to that point added in a hissed whisper. “Don’t attract any attention, or you’ll be sharing what the outer guards and our friend there suffered.”

“No problem, boss.” One of the pair moving the body answered quietly, but fervently. There was no way any of the three thugs were going to risk anything to arouse the ire of that one.

* * * *

Mina awakened from her usual light sleep with the feeling that something was wrong. Very wrong. Quietly getting out of her bed which was in a smaller chamber next to Deirdre’s, she cautiously cracked open the door between the two. To be met with a fist almost as large as her head.

Rolling with the punch, but stunned enough that she couldn’t even shout out a warning, the one-time assassin leaped to her feet and automatically went into an attack stance, only to have her breath again knocked out of her lungs by a hard kick to the side. Still, she launched herself at the assailant, drawing a small but deadly needle pointed dagger to do what damage she could.

A frighteningly familiar voice quietly spoke to her as another kick numbed the hand grasping the dagger. “Ahh, so good to see you again, Mina, my dear.” Eel smiled as he delivered another blow to the woman’s midsection.

“I know, I know.” He soothed while drawing out a blade of his own. “You thought I was dead. Should have made sure of me in Jhalmar, woman. You’re slipping.

A compatriot and a bag full of healing draughts can work wonders, even on someone in the shape you left me in, dear.” The man smiled thinly as his blade slipped between her ribs. “I won’t make the same mistake you did, I fear. Good bye, Mina.

* * * *

Deirdre awakened to a quiet, but unusual sound in her bedchamber, sat up quickly, only to find a heavy, calloused hand clapped over her mouth and a heavy arm wrapped around her throat before she could so much as question who was in her room. She did manage to kick the rest of the light covers off her legs before another pair of hands grabbed her ankles.

She did three things at that point. Bit down hard on the hand over her mouth, tasting a gratifying saltiness of blood once she had, and worked her teeth in even further while tearing at the hand she’d bitten. She also kicked wildly, feeling pain in her toes as her bare foot connected solidly with what she thought was a man’s midsection. Then the young woman reached up with her hands to claw at the arm around her throat with her nails.

Those acts were answered with muffled curses and quiet qrunts of pain. Unfortunately, the arm around her throat tightened, cutting off any hope of her shouting or screaming for help. And, incidentally, cutting off her air until her head swam from lack of breathing.

“Don’t choke her to death!” A harsh whisper gave her an aiming point and she lashed out with a heel. That connected with a click of teeth being snapped together and the feel of a chin or something equally hard bouncing away from that heel.

She kept struggling, giving and receiving a few more blows, until she found herself trussed up gagged, and wrapped like a mummy in her own bedding. Helpless to do much else by that time, she glared into the darkness and still struggled against her bonds.

“Damn, who’d have thought a pair of women could put up that much of a fight!” A panting voice rasped as hard hands picked her up and negligently tossed her over a heavily muscled shoulder.

As she was carried out of her room, she caught sight of a huddled form that turned out to be Mina. Mina lying in a spreading pool of blood.

Bruised, battered, and sinking into a dark pool of despair and grief, Deirdre finally lost consciousness. The deep, unthinking, unfeeling darkness was almost comforting.

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Seventeen
 By Maggie Finson
 
Captivity

or, I Really Need to Find a Better Class of Kidnappers

 

“Tell me how this happened.” Garret surveyed the splattered gore, and disheveled bed then turned to Chalmnessa’s Guard Captain with a look that would have cracked granite. “How did anyone, let alone more than one person, get in here to do this without being spotted before they reached this point or when they were leaving?”

That worthy, Sestelphas, frowned and returned Garrets gaze steadily with one that was just as hard, and furious. “They walked in through one of the posterns during the night. One of the gate keepers, Sham, was involved. We found his body outside the gate hidden under a tarpaulin being used to protect some lumber. His wife and daughter were found a short while ago, also dead, and this was in Sham’s home.”

Garret gave the note, on an irregular piece of foolscap a looking over then fought off the urge to shred it. Instead he carefully handed it back to the captain. “So, they got in with Sham’s help, then killed him, how did his wife and daughter die?”

“It wasn’t pretty, my lord.” Sestelphas answered grimly. “Both of them were raped, probably before they were killed.”

“And your guards?” Garret was staring at the bed, and bloodstains showing on the remaining bedclothes.

“Four were killed outright, their throats slashed, two others might make it, but the healers aren’t certain about that yet.”

“Damn.” The knight briefly closed his eyes, worrying both about Deirdre and the integrity of the Ducal residence’s security. “All right, for starters, anyone, and I mean anyone with gate access after sundown with the exception of the guard is to be moved, with their families if they have any, into the palace. We’ll find room to house them.”

“Already being done, my lord.” Sestelphas answered. “My men are already gathering them and bringing them here. Getting them settled and their belongings moved will take a bit more time, but it’s being seen to.”

“Good.” Garret nodded as his thoughts turned to his missing betrothed.

“I’m sure she’s alive, my lord.” Sestelphas gently told him. “If the intruders’ aim was simply murder, they would have done it here, and not bothered to carry off the body.”

“I know, but that doesn’t help me at the moment.” Garret answered then offered the captain a weak smile. “But thank you for saying so. I also trust that you’re beefing up the night guard?”

“Oh, yes, my lord.” Sestelphas nodded ruefully. “Your father, the Duke made certain, very certain, that I understood the importance of that only a few hours ago. It is being done, believe me.”

“I do, Sestelphas, I do.” Garret sighed. “It looks as she put up a fight here.”

“Oh that she did, my lord.” The other answered with a pained smirk. “We found a man’s finger in the bedding earlier.”

“She must be furious.” Garret managed a half hearted laugh. “Taken from a place where she actually was beginning to feel safe. I almost feel sorry for the kidnappers.”

“I can only say that the bastards deserve what they got, and will most likely get, if what I’ve heard and observed of your lady is any indication.”

“Probably true.” Garret nodded. “I just hope she has the sense not to antagonize them enough to really harm or kill her in a fit of anger.”

“Your lady is smarter than that, Garret.” Another voice entered the conversation while Brent moved to stand beside his brother and placed a hand on the elder’s shoulder. “I have people tracking the kidnappers now. My best trackers, as a matter of fact. Who have orders not to return until they either have something or they’ve searched for years.”

“Thank you, Brent.” Garret gave his brother a weak smile. “I have faith in you and your people. They’ll find something.”

Chalmnessa’s spymaster nodded. “I do hope so. If not they will hear about my — disappointment with them. The kidnappers made it easy until they left by the northwest postern gate. There was a clear trail of blood droplets that were
concealed but not well enough. My trackers have spread out from that gate.”

“Roric.” Garret breathed out the name like a curse. “It had to be that gods forsaken trash.”

“That would be my first guess, brother.” Brent agreed. “But without proof we can’t very well assemble an army and march on him in Lindsay without starting a civil war and if he is responsible, he knows that all too well.”

“Yes he would.” Garret sighed. “I trust you’ve got people working on getting that proof?”

“Of course, brother.” Brent answered simply. “If Roric is behind this, we will know of it within the week.”

“Well, I think I’ll gather the Duchy’s army for ‘maneuvers’ in the meantime.” The knight growled.

“That would be good.” Brent agreed. “Just have your ‘maneuvers’ at some point that isn’t crowding Lindsay’s borders.”

“Give me some credit, little brother.” Garret grumbled.

“I know.” The other soothed. “I just had to make certain it was said. By the way, how is Mina faring?”

“She’s alive. Barely.” Garret answered. “The healers tell me she was lucky, the blade missed her heart or any major blood vessels, but it did penetrate a lung.”

“Has she managed to say anything as of yet?”

“Just one word, or name.” Garret answered. “Eel.”

“I know the name.” Brent nodded with a worried flash in his eyes that was quickly suppressed. “A bad one.”

“I know.” The knight answered quietly, feeling even more afraid for his beloved as he thought about whose hands she was in.

“We’ll get her back, Garret, and alive.” Brent promised.

“Gods, I hope so.”

* * * *

“We have her, my lord.” Eel told Roric. He’d ridden ahead of the mule drawn cart his hirelings were using to transport their charge to Lindsay. “Though I still think it would have been better to kill her in her bed. That one is going to be nothing but trouble if you ask me.”

“Trouble I can handle.” Roric answered with a slow smile. “So long as it is in my grasp and I can control what it does.”

“As you say, my lord.” Eel inclined his head without voicing any other reservations, of which he had more than enough, regarding keeping a certain young woman alive. “She should be here within three days.”

“Good.” Roric smiled at the prospect. “I imagine the lady will be somewhat surprised about what my plans are for her.”

“I don’t wish to know those, my lord. Until you make it happen.” Eel answered simply, then bowed and left the room.

“Arrogant bastard.” Roric whispered. “In time your usefulness will be finished. I do look forward to that moment. I really do.”

Bridgette moved to his side from the alcove she had been secreted in once the assassin had gone. “I still don’t like what you have planned, my love.”

“You worry too much.” Roric pulled her into his lap and kissed her hard on the mouth. “You are the one I love, dear one. The lady Deirdre is but a means to an end. You will be able to torment her to your heart’s content once she arrives.”

“If you insist.” She pouted.

“I do.” Roric gave her bare arm a painful squeeze. “Don’t question what I’m doing here.”

“Oh, I would never do that, my love.” She answered quietly.

* * * *

“Arrrgh–Oww!” Hess shouted in outrage. “She kicked me again!”

“You’re still talking without squeaking this time.” Grindle answered with no trace of sympathy while giving his bandaged arm and hand a look that his eyes shied away from. “I still wonder just where she spit my finger out.”

“Mruumph, nump!” Sable added through the swollen jaw he was sporting.

“What?” Hess gave the trio’s putative leader a puzzled look.

“He said.” Grindle responded with more authority than the situation warranted. “That the gold we get for delivering this one intact will make your crotch and stomach feel a LOT better.”

“Could I just, maybe you know, bruise her a little?” Hess plaintively asked.

“Nrrmphh!” Sable emphatically answered and even Hess understood the NO in that response.

* * * *

“Oh, Garrret!” Jessica hugged her brother, her voice choked with tears.

“She’ll be fine, Jess.” Garret hugged her back then added to himself. Gods I hope and pray it is so. Then he added aloud. “Can you see my Deirdre just giving up? The bastards didn’t kill her, or they would have just left the — body -- for us to find. They, someone, have a reason for keeping her alive. We’ll find out who that is, and get her back.”

“I hope you’re right.” Jessica answered.

“I am.” Garret grimly told her. “And once I find out who is behind this, all the gods in the universe won’t be enough to protect them.”

“I believe you, brother.” Jessica responded then questioned. “Didn’t the guard find a finger in her room?”

“Yes.”

“Bring it to me.” Jessica told him. “I can do a working with it and possibly find where the person it belongs to is, or is going.”

“I thought you’d say that.” Garret gave her a humorless smile as he produced something wrapped in cloth. “Here it is.”

“Then I have work to do, dear.” Jessica answered, taking the cloth wrapped item and gently escorting him to the door of her apartments. “Now go find something to do besides worrying, and I’ll do what I can. I’ll let you know in a while about the results of my efforts.”

* * * *

“Lady.” Grindle gingerly approached the still tightly bound and gagged form in the bed of the cart. “We aren’t going to hurt you, we’re just getting paid to take you to the one who contracted us. If you behave I’ll even take the gag off so we can feed you and get you something to drink.”

Deirdre glared at the man then nodded with a heavy sigh. Her mouth felt as if a rather unkempt army had marched through it, leaving their garbage behind.

“So you won’t bite, kick, or scream?” Grindle questioned.

“Mmmmph.” She answered while shaking her head in a negative.

“All right.” Grindle responded while very carefully removing her gag.

“You guys are in Sooo much trouble.” She rasped once the gag had been removed, then demurely asked. “Could I have some water?”

Grindle, having removed the gag, waited for a few breaths to see if she was going to scream in spite of her agreement, then put the spout of a water skin tentatively to her mouth.

She took it like a starving baby takes its mother’s nipple and slowly, carefully drew in the sweet, leather tasting water.

* * * *

“We’ve found their trail, Garret.” Brent informed his older brother quietly. “They do seem to be headed in the general direction of Lindsay, but for the moment that means nothing other than that being the original direction of their track. It appears they are using a mule drawn cart, so they can’t be moving very fast.”

Garret stared at his brother’s image through the crystal his sister had crafted for rapid communications in time of need. “Thank you, Brent. All the same, I think the maneuvers my troops are having will drift that direction now. Just as a hint to Roric that if he has anything to do with this, things could become very uncomfortable for him.”

“I would advise against that just yet.” The younger of the pair answered with a frown. “If Roric is responsible such a move could make him feel forced to kill Deirdre instead of doing whatever he may have planned for her.”

“Oh, just a small drift, Brent.” Garret grimly looked at his brother’s image. “No more than a few miles, that could be attributed to shifting troops, and would get us to within a day’s march of the Sentinel pass without arousing needless suspicions.”

“You’re going to take an army through the Sentinel Pass?” Brent questioned almost incredulously.”

The Sentinel Pass ran through the rugged Lonmer hills, reputed — properly — to be infested with bellicose rock trolls who indiscriminately jumped on anyone and everyone trying to use the pass.

Garret shrugged. “I’m prepared for that. We have suitable bribes aplenty with us.”

“I certainly hope so, brother.” Brent sounded doubtful.

“I know the planning was spur of the moment.” Garret grinned nastily. “But I did plan.”

“You always do, Garret.” Brent shook his head with a sigh. “I just hope that what you’ve done is enough if things come to that.”

“They will be.” Garret promised, with more than a hint of promise of mayhem for whoever it was the force he commanded ended up being aimed at.

“See that they are.” Brent answered simply then added. “I want her back, too.”

* * * *

Deridre glared at her captors from the bed of the cart, but that was all she could manage. “I’m losing feeling in my hands and feet here!”

“If you’d behave.” Grindle shot back. “We might consider untying your hands and feet. But you won’t do that, so deal with the numbness.”

The man rubbed a fresh bruise on his cheek much to her satisfaction. “So we’d be crazy to untie you because you won’t agree to at least be civilized about this.”

“Civilized?” She shot back. “You sneaked into my room in the dead of night, killed my best friend, and I don’t know how many others, wrapped me in a bloody sheet, and THEN threw me over someone’s shoulder and had the unmitigated gall to run while I was there! That person has a really bony shoulder by the way. So don’t even try talking to me about being civilized!”

“My shoulder isn’t bony…” Grindle automatically responded then groaned. “Will you stop that? We aren’t supposed to hurt you, just deliver you to the man who paid us to snatch you. Can’t you take it easy on us here?”

“No.” Deirdre answered simply. “You guys are in more trouble than you ever dreamed of falling on your idiotic heads. Garret won’t rest until he finds you, and really puts a major hurt on each one of you! That is if I don’t get loose first.”

“Lady, your arguments aren’t mitigating the reasons we keep you tied so tightly.” Grindle pointed out.

“Oh, yeah.” Deirdre grimaced and even blushed. “Sorry. Here, try this. Oh, yes sir, I’ll be nice if you just untie my hands and feet so I can feel them.”

“Not falling for it.” Grindle shook his head. “No way, no how.”

“What happened to trust in this world?” Deirdre opined.

* * * *

“Without additional difficulties cropping up, your package should arrive within three days, my lord.” Eel told Roric. “My sources tell me that Chalmnessa is in confusion at the moment, though Garret has troops out for maneuvers.”

“I’ve heard about that last.” Roric dismissed the threat. “He’d have to go through The Sentinel Pass, and that has always been a bottleneck and advantage to Lindsay against invaders. The rock trolls are not pleasant to anyone trying to get through that bottleneck. If Garret moved through there, he would lose at least a third of his forces and the battle would alert my scouts in the area.”

“As you say, my lord.” Eel smoothly responded. “I leave strategic considerations to those more capable of discerning them. I work in shadows, not out in the open.”

Privately, Eel thought Roric was a fool to trust in the rock trolls of Sentinel Pass. What he’d heard of Garret, and observed, tended to make him think the man would find a way to get through that pass peacefully if he needed to do so. But Roric was paying him for delivery of the girl — not killing her, as had been the original plan. Another mistake in his opinion, but he didn’t make policy, simply followed it when someone paying as well as the all in but name Duke of Lindsay was doing.

“I will continue monitoring their progress, my lord.” The man bowed, and left the room without Roric’s permission.

Arrogant bastard. Roric thought with a mild flash of rage at the slight he’d been given. If he wasn’t so good at what he does, and if I didn’t need him at the moment…

* * * *

“Eel, it was Eel.” Mina managed to gasp out at last.

“We know, dear.” Jessica answered while trying to calm the still dangerously weak former assassin. “No one else could have done this to you, just concentrate on getting better, do what the healers tell you. They tell me it will be weeks before you should even be allowed to sit up in bed.”

“Liars.” Mina answered in a whisper. “Have to get back to Deirdre. I’ve failed her.”

“We all did that, Mina.” Jessica answered quietly then added. “We’ll get her back. And that girl is no pushover in any kind of fight, you know that. She’ll find a way to make things hard for her kidnappers.”

“What worries me.” Mina answered in a breath that was fluttering like a frightened butterfly.

“It worries everyone else, too, dear.” Jessica answered simply and sternly put in. “But you’ll do no one any good unless you let yourself have the time you need to heal properly.”

“Damn it.”

“If it helps any,” Jessica softly answered. “I feel the same way.”

* * * *

“You look like you’ve been pulling your hair, little brother.” Jessica told Brent when she entered the room he was working in.

“Probably because I have been.” Brent sighed then gave his sister a wan grin. “We know the kidnappers are using a mule drawn two wheeled cart to transport Deirdre to whatever their destination is. But do you have any idea about just how many mule drawn two wheeled carts generally move through Chalmnessa?”

“Probably hundreds?” Jessica asked.

“More like thousands.” Brent groused while gesturing towards a precariously stacked batch of reports sitting on his desk. “My people have overtaken and searched more of the damned things than I care to think about just now, but even though a good number of them had false bottoms, none of them have contained Deirdre. On a happy note for the taxmen though, we have uncovered more than a few smugglers because of this mess.”

Jessica had to laugh in spite of the seriousness of the situation. “Well, I can tell you for certain that they are headed for Lindsay.”

“You used the finger for a divination?” He questioned.

“Of course.” The pretty blonde woman nodded with some satisfaction. “So that should narrow down your search parameters a bit. Just have your people watching the roads leading to Lindsay and the borders.”

“That would simplify things, marginally.” Brent nodded while ringing a small bell to summon his own chief of staff. “Now all we need do is to catch them before they cross the border.”

Jessica left her brother grumbling over a map. “Roads, tracks, goat paths, game trails… I’m going to go insane before this is over. I know it!”

“You’ll get it done, Brent.” She answered before closing the door. “I have faith in your abilities and the people who work for you. Even if they don’t catch them before they cross the border, they should be able to find proof about where Deirdre is being taken.”

“Gods, I hope so.” Brent answered into the empty air, because Jessica had departed to continue her own search for the kidnapped lady.

* * * *

Deirdre tried to kick the sides of the cart, but had been tied so cleverly that she couldn’t move even a muscle. Screaming, or yelling was out, too because of the rather unpleasant wad of cloth that had been shoved into her mouth and tied into place with a strip of silk from her own nightgown.

She did squirm a lot, and emitted a long, breathless series of ‘uumphs, gahs, and mrrphgggs. But none of that even attracted the attention of the soldiers, or whatever they were, who were searching the cart. Worse, the false bottom of this particular cart scraped her nose painfully every time the cart was jostled even a bit.

Being squeezed into a space only a foot high was rubbing other parts of her anatomy the wrong way, too. She fully intended to make her kidnappers pay for that indignity and pain, once she got loose. But it had been some time since she’d been able to even feel her hands or feet. That was yet another bone to pick with the ruffians who had control of her life just now.

Eventually, the unpleasant, very uncomfortable and sometimes painful jostling settled back into the familiar motions of the cart moving along a less than smooth road.

* * * *

“They have crossed the border into Lindsay, my lord.” Eel reported during one of his rare audiences with Roric.

“Good.” Roric nodded. “Have there been any problems so far that I’m not aware of?”

“The lady is making things rather difficult for her escort, my lord.” The assassin answered with a shrug. “She may be very thirsty, and hungry when she arrives. Plus it could be awhile before she can stand unaided. My hirelings have fed her, and given her water when they could, but she hasn’t made that easy for them.”

“No matter.” Roric gave the assassin a nasty grin. “I’m not interested in her being able to do more than stand up once she gets here. You know what to do with your dupes once they deliver the lady, I trust?”

“Of course, my lord.” Eel answered with a sardonic grin. “The less witnesses, the safer you are. I am well aware of that necessity.”

“Good.”

“That much more gold for me, my lord.” Eel chuckled.

“Indeed.” Roric gave the assassin a thin smile while thinking. And none at all from my treasury once you are taken care of, my friend.

Eel was all too aware of his employer’s hopes, and fully intended to thwart them. Better people than this lordling had tried to finish him and none had succeeded yet. But surviving and securing his payment would prove to be an entertaining exercise.

* * * *

“Mina!” Jessica almost shouted when she found the former assassin walking to her own room’s privy. “You’re supposed to be resting!”

“I can breathe without pain, I’m not spitting up blood, and I can talk without wheezing.” The woman retorted. “I’m fit enough to get back into things now and I won’t take no for an answer.”

“You’re far from completely recovered.” Jessica shot back. “If you don’t pay attention to what the healers tell you, all that could start happening again. Now get yourself back to bed!”

“Not likely.” Mina growled while turning to glare at Jessica. “I was supposed to be protecting Deirdre. I failed. I won’t fail to save her. I’m fine. Just let me get back into form my way without you and all the healers having heart attacks, could you?”

“I learned long ago not to argue with you about how you feel, or what you are capable of doing.” The blonde answered quietly. “But please don’t overextend yourself out a sense of duty that you did all in your power to uphold.”

“Yes, yes.” Mina impatiently acknowledged. “But now I have a score to settle on top of that.”

“Just get well before you try that.” Jessica cautioned.

“Oh, I intend to do just that.”

“Make sure you do.” Jessica ordered.

“Of course, my lady.” Mina agreed with a small smile. “I won’t be able to do what I wish to do until I am healed up completely.”

* * * *

Roric waited with ill concealed impatience as the cart that had just entered his castle was unloaded. He had no interest whatsoever in the goods that were showing on a casual look. The item that was hidden beneath those was what held his interest, and he watched with no small amount of amusement as the three buffoons lifted the bottom of the cart and struggled to get the flailing, if well tied form out of the hidden compartment. Deirdre was his at last. He could make allowances for less than exemplary performances from hirelings. Especially since they would be dead in a short time.

* * * *

“Ahh, allow me to welcome you to Lindsay, Lady.” Roric bowed to the disheveled figure still clad in the tatters of a nightgown who was rubbing her wrists and ankles without seeming to pay attention to him or anyone else at that moment. “I have been looking forward to your arrival for some time now.”

“Why?” Deirdre acerbically questioned. “So Garret has an excuse to invade Lindsay?”

“Oh of course not, dear.” Roric smiled while taking in the shape that the very tattered nightgown showed him. “I wish to welcome my bride to be properly.”

“Your what?” She questioned incredulously.

“My bride to be.” Roric answered with unruffled calm. “You are the key to the throne of Jhalmar, my dear. Without you, Garret can't inherit anything, not even Chalmnessa. With you, I however hold a key to gaining the throne without his interference once we are married. You have connections to the royal family yourself, though you didn't know that, and admittedly it is a distant relationship, but he who wins your heart, dear girl, could easily gain the throne.”

“Well, you’ve let yourself out of that one.” The lady glared at him while gathering the rags of her nightgown protectively around her form. “The only way you’ll win my heart is to cut it out and hold it in your hand. And the only throne you'll ever sit on is in the privy if I have anything to do with things.”

“All in due time,regarding your heart, my dear.” Roric answered with a smile. “But first I need to marry you.”

“Unless something has escaped my notice.” Deirdre shot back. “Even with the women being this chattel thing you seem to like, consent is needed. Which I definitely will not give.”

“Oh, in time you will.” Roric answered smugly.

“I’ll be dead first.” She shot back.

“Hardly.” The man grinned. “Once you’ve seen some of the alternatives, I’m sure you’ll willingly become my bride.”

“When the gods stop wanting to be worshipped, maybe.” She answered.

“Oh, I’m sure I can change your mind.” He chuckled. “After all, I have no problems with a bride who isn’t a virgin.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” She questioned with a hint of fear in her voice.

“Oh, you’ll find out in time.” Roric answered smugly. “Once you’ve been introduced to your new quarters and the roommate that comes with them.”

“You bastard!” She spat out.

“Quite the contrary, dear.” Roric laughed. “I know exactly who my father was. Which doesn’t change the fact that I will have you gentled down to my proposal in a few days.”

“That will happen when the sun really falls into the western ocean at sundown.” She snarled.

“Then prepare yourself for a lot of steam and no sunrise in the morning.” Roric answered then gestured at a group of guards. “Take the lady to her new accommodations.”

“I’ll rip your heart out and show it to you while you die.” She promised him with a snarl as the guards closed around her.

“Oh, I highly doubt that, dear.” Roric laughed. “When you are in this room again, you’ll beg me to marry you, trust me.”

“Marriage beds,” She shot back. “Can be the most deadly of all things, or haven’t you heard that one?”

“Indeed I have, my love.” Roric chuckled. “But when you are in front of me again, I’m sure that will be the furthest thing from your thoughts. Just to avoid what you are going to experience in the near future. I wish you joy in your new companions.”

Her most unladylike response to that was lost as the guards took gentle hold of her and led her from the room.

* * * *

“You plan to marry that?” Bridgette questioned as she emerged from the tapestries that lined the walls of the room.

“The gain is well worth the inconvenience.” Roric answerd simply. “Besides, once I gain the throne through marriage to that hellion, she could have an accident. Which would clear the way for another queen.”

“Just let me be part of that accident.” Bridgette almost begged.

“Never fear, my darling.” The Duke of Lindsay answered then changed the subject. “Right now I need to work on the funeral arrangements for my father. First things first, dear one. Appearances must be kept, after all.”

* * * *

Roric’s guards weren’t rough, but they would allow no deviation from the path they had been ordered to take. They took the young woman deeper and deeper into the bowels of the castle until they were in some of the lowest dungeons.

Once there, the stopped at one heavy wooden door, unlocked it, and unceremoniously opened the door to throw her in.

One guard broke the silence that had been maintained up to then. “Brought you a playmate, Riddler. The Duke says enjoy her as you like, then share her around.”

“Well, well.” A rusty voice answered as what looked like a pile of rags in the corner of the cell stirred. “Any distraction is welcome, and this one looks to be quite enjoyable.”

Deirdre fought, but the guards threw her into the room, slammed the door, and locked it behind them.

“Well, well.” the ragged figure that was slowly standing up almost whispered as he took in the barely concealed form of the surprise that had been so rudely thrust into his cell. “What did you to deserve such treatment, girl?”

“I refused to marry Roric, for one thing.” She spat back, moving so she against a wall and readying herself to defend her virginity in any way she was able, though she held no illusions about the success of that plan.

“A point in your favor right there.” The man called Riddler nodded with a flash of still white teeth that was meant to be a grin. “So this is to gentle you down to accept his ‘proposal’, I take it?”

“So the misbegotten son of a union between a weasel and a sow inferred.”

Riddler actually chuckled at that. “Good, I like your spirit. But that still leaves us with what to do with this situation, doesn’t it? I’ve been a long time without a woman and you are most comely, young lady.”

“You might find enjoying me is harder than you may think.” She shot back without the internal conviction her voice carried.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that at all.” Riddler chuckled as he seated himself in a pile of noisesome rags. “So why don’t we — negotiate?”

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Eighteen
 By Maggie Finson
 

On The Loose

or, Just What Are You Trying to Tell Me Here?

 

On The Loose

or, Just What Are You Trying to Tell Me Here?

“I know, I know.” Roric waved off the protests Bridgette was obviously just getting warmed up to making. “I should have killed her the moment she was in our hands. But trying that hasn’t been all that successful so far, and I have a sneaking hunch that doing so now wouldn’t be any easier. The girl has the damnedest knack for having things just fall into place to keep her alive if not healthy.”

“Don’t be a fool, dear.” Bridgette risked his anger because of her own. “Keeping that girl alive is counter-productive to your aims in all this. If she somehow gets free, or if Garret gets Chalmenessa to move against us, she would definitely be able to end any hope you might have for ascending the throne.”

“But.” Roric ignored the implied idea that he was being foolish while raising one hand. “With her in my hands, our hands, she is a bargaining chip, and a valuable one for the time being. Garret won’t dare move against me if he knows she is in my hands for fear I will kill her.”

“And what is that drivel about her possessing royal blood?” The young woman who fully intended to be Roric’s bride questioned acidly.

“No drivel at all, though the relationship is, admittedly distant.” He responded. “Our Deirdre is directly descended from one of the prophet’s — the original Deirdre’s -- family though that particular line diverged from the nobility some time ago. That connection is provable, even if tenuous. So having her for a bride could easily strengthen my claim to the throne simply for that in the eyes of the common folk. Think about it here. A lovely young thing, descended from the early founders of this nation, and bearing the same name as that tragic little girl who made all these troublesome prophecies will catch the attention, the sympathies, and hearts of the rabble.”

“She’d put a dagger in your heart and smile while doing so.” Bridgette snorted. “In your marriage bed.”

“Oh, I think she’ll be gentled down some once she is ‘rescued’ from her present accommodations.” Roric grinned evilly. “Rather than be returned to that I’m quite certain she will acquiesce to whatever I tell her to do.”

Bridgette, daughter of a lord herself, and well versed in palace intrigues thought to herself that Roric was being a fool about the girl. While not voicing that idea, she began forming plans of her own to make certain the little bitch wouldn’t be a problem in the future. To Roric, she smiled, nodded, and gave in. “I’m sure you’re right, my dear lord.”

“Besides.” He added casually. “What makes you think I’d even consider marrying a commoner? The girl is a tool, nothing else. If Garret does try to attack, think of how that will be blunted with his lady love spread eagled on the wall he’s trying to attack.”

“But you TOLD her you intended to marry her!” Bridgette shot back, not at all convinced by his most recent explanation.

“Of course I did, dearest.” Roric gave the woman a hug and kissed her rather forcibly on the lips before continuing. “When she finally does give in, think how crushed her ego and resistance will be once she discovers I had no intention of giving the ‘out’ that seems to be offered.”

“Enraged, maybe.” The lady shook her head. “Roric, you just don’t understand women. Keeping that girl alive is a deadly threat to both you and your ambitions.”

“Trust me, she’ll be quite broken by the time she discovers I have no intention of marrying her.” He smirked. “In fact, I predict that she would willingly go wherever and to whoever I tell her to once I deign to notice her presence once again.”

“I hope you’re right, my lord.” Bridgette answered quietly while planning to end the potential threat before the man could be proven wrong. Hopefully doing so without suspicion being cast her way. “I will reserve judgment on that, though, if you will forgive me for my womanly instincts.”

“You’ll see, my dear.” The lord of Lindsay in all but name answered with a grin. “I know what I’m doing here.”

So do I. She thought with an internal shudder and smirk. You think you can make that one into a pliable little slave, but even though you won’t listen to me, I know that won’t work. But as usual, I’ll see to the nasty little details for you.

* * * *

“Oh, keep standing, dear.” Riddler urged when Deirdre started to, very carefully, sit down. “I need to have a look at you here, and it isn’t what you think, honestly.”

“Why?” She questioned carefully and more than a bit acerbically. “So you can get a better look at ‘the goods’?”

“Among other things.” The man responded lightly. “Please move into the light, what little of it is, that we get from the window in the door.”

“Why should I do that?” She questioned. “So you can get a better idea of what you’ll be raping pretty soon?”

“Not at all, dear.” The man sighed and waved her towards the light. “For some reason you look familiar to me. I would like to consider that for a few moments before any ‘festivities’ begin, if you don’t mind.”

She did so, anxious to do anything at all to even slow the eventual nastiness she expected to come from this development. “All right. So now what?”

“Gods.” The man breathed as he looked her over, mostly in the face, much to Deirdre’s puzzlement. That was eased when he asked. “Do you know a lady named Leila Hawthorne? She lives in Jhalmar.”

“That’s my mother.” She answered with a clear lack of understanding about where this was going clear on her lovely face and in her posture. “Why?”

“I — was — a close friend of your mother’s.” The man answered slowly, seeming hesitant to say too much. “She and I knew each other — quite well — in times past.”

“Just what is that supposed to mean?” Deirdre questioned with a tilt of her head that tossed her midnight hair over her shoulder and across her breast. Once she realized what that motion had done, she straightened her head and back then glared at the man. “I’m sure you have an answer for that one.”

“Oh, indeed I do.” Riddler actually smiled. “I comforted your mother at times during your father’s long absences.”

“By comforted, do you mean the euphemism ‘spent quality time’ with her?” Deirdre questioned with narrowed eyes.

“That about covers it.” Riddler answered with a sigh. “Many a night your mother and I spent with each other, enjoying one another and I will never regret that time. She is a very remarkable woman, girl. By the way, what is your name? I’m not all that comfortable calling you ‘girl’ right now with what we’ve just discovered.”

“It’s Deirdre.” She answered in a mix of wonder and surprise. “I never thought of my mother doing things like that.”

“She was beautiful, Deirdre. Like you are.” Riddler answered slowly. “And full of so much love, and determination. A man couldn’t resist that combination no matter how hard he tried. I conceived a child with her during that time, she told me, but wouldn’t tell her husband for the obvious reasons.”

“When was that?” Deirdre asked very softly. “When would the child have been born?”

“The year 1573 new reckoning.” Riddler answered while eyeing her with a knowing look. “That would be fifteen years ago.”

“When I was born.” She closed her eyes, trying to forget all the things her ‘real’ father had tried doing for the boy she was before he’d died, but couldn’t do much of that since he had died when she was four years old.

“I have looked in mirrors on occasion, girl.” Riddler chuckled then gave her a long, serious look. “You look like your mother, but there are elements of me there, too. I couldn’t miss those if I was half blind. You have my chin, after all. But I had heard that child was a boy.”

Deirdre really looked at the man, and had to admit to herself that she could see elements of her own appearance in his face once he’d moved into the light. “That’s a rather long story and gods, what am I supposed to do now?”

“I don’t expect you to hug your father.” Riddler answered sardonically. “After all, you just discovered that fact. To be honest, you’re so lovely, I almost wish you weren’t my daughter. But I’m sure beyond any doubt that you are, so you’re safe with me. Though an explanation of your long story about not being a boy might while away some time here. Were you a twin?”

“No.” Deirdre answered with a glower then muttered something that was unintelligible.

“What was that last thing?” Riddler questioned with a slight smile on his face. “You have your mother’s temperament, I can tell that already. The man who marries you is in for a challenge, I’m sure.”

“Never mind.” She sighed. “I was cursing prophecies is all.”

“Were you?” He chuckled. “I’ve learned in a long eventful life that cursing things you can do nothing about tends to be fairly counter-productive, even if it does make one feel a bit better at times.”

“Well, cursing at this one has done me no good at all so far.” She admitted with the first bit of smile she’d offered since being tossed into the cell. “Whatever is doing this seems quite determined to get on with things whether I agree with it or not. So, point taken.”

“Your mother was very pragmatic about things, too.” Riddler nodded thoughtfully. “She would rail at things for a bit to get it out of her system, then do whatever she needed to deal with the situation, even if it did seem unpalatable at the time.”

“That sounds depressingly familiar.” Deirdre managed a chuckle.

“I’m still curious as to why you aren’t a young man.” The man put in, then gave a look of apology at the wince that elicited from his cell mate. “I apologize, I know, long story. One I’ll be interested in hearing when you’re ready to tell it. I take it the midwives and birth scryers weren’t wrong when they foretold the baby’s sex.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I did tell you.” She sighed.

“Now that sounds like a tale even I would sit and listen to with bated breath.” The man answered then held up his hands to forestall the explosion he saw coming. “That was not making fun of you, dear girl. I rarely hear a tale I’ve never run across a variation for, a new one could be very diverting is all I meant.”

With nothing better to do, Deirdre took a few breaths, and started telling him.

* * * *

“The wagons are ready, my lord.” A man at arms reported to Garret then added. “Along with the sheep.”

“I still don’t quite understand what three wagons loaded with something you haven’t seen fit to tell anyone about, and a flock of sheep is going to get us through Sentinel Pass and past the rock trolls.” Sestalphas, seconded from his duties in Serai as captain of the guard on Garret’s request shook his head. “The trolls will trash the wagons, eat the sheep, and the wagon drivers then be waiting for more.”

“Ahh, but those three wagons are loaded with casks of cheap, but well fortified wine, my friend.” Garret chuckled. “I hope that once the trolls discover what’s in the wagons, the drivers, and maybe even the sheep will be able to escape.”

Sestalphas gave his commander a long, searching look then started laughing.

* * * *

“So what do we do now?” Deirdre asked then added. “And how did you end up in this particular dungeon?”

“I made the mistake of trying to acquire an item that was guarded better than I’d anticipated.” He shrugged. “It happens on occasion.”

“It happens.” She answered while looking at him with a stare the seemed to penetrate to his bones. “Then you can pick locks?”

“Easily.” He answered then held up hands restrained by manacles, even if the chains allowed him access to the entire cell. “Unfortunately, I have nothing available to make use of that skill.”

“Here, try this.” She gave him an evil grin as she pulled a hairpin out of her voluminous hair and handed it to him. “My kidnappers were a bit too busy to get all of them.”

“That just proves to me that you are my daughter.” Riddler grinned while he released the manacles at his wrists and ankles. “Can you pick locks?”

“Of course I can.” Deirdre chuckled. “But you’re the master thief here, unless I missed something in what you were telling me earlier. You do the honors.”

“Easily.” He answered. “But what do we do we do then?”

“Get out of here.” Deirdre answered with a shrug. “Whatever it takes.”

“You are more like your mother than you know.” He told her.

“Just get us out of this cell.” She told him.

“On it, dear, lovely daughter.”

Deirdre just nodded, thinking it would be better to really discuss with him that she had started out as a son later on. But he’d already heard the story. “More action, less talk, Daddy.”

“Door is open.” Riddler told her simply. “Now what?”

“First, we find some weapons.” She told him, knowing he’d already come to that conclusion. “Then it’s mayhem. But first we find something for me to wear other than this rather tatty nightgown.”

“You are definitely my daughter.” He sighed then laughed.

“I suppose I should scream and all that, just to keep whoever is listening happy.” She put in.

“That would be nice touch, yes.”

“NOO!!!” She screamed. “Don’t touch me!!

Think that will work?” She questioned.

“It’ll do.” Riddler nodded with a grin. “Do some more, just in case.”

“Noo!!!” Deirdre screamed while tearing her already threadbare nightgown loudly enough to be noted. “I’m a virgin and I have fingernails!”

“Nice touch.” Riddler grinned then screamed. “You bitch! Claw my face will you?!!”

“Bleed!” Deirdre shouted in a panicked voice then grinned and whispered. “How was that?”

“Arrghh!” Riddler answered, mostly because he was laughing too hard to do anything else.

“I’ll take that as ‘I did good’.” She whispered.

“Oh, indeed, daughter.” Riddler chuckled then yelled. “You bitch! I was going to be nice, but not now!”

“My virginity is not something I want to give to you!” Deirdre shouted hysterically then couldn’t help herself, she started laughing. “If these idiots fall for this, we have it made.”

“They hear what they wish to hear, dear.” Riddler answered with a nasty grin. “Misdirection is a wonderful thing when used properly.”

“I suppose I should go into the heavy breathing now?”

“It might be a good time, yes.”

“No, no, noooo….” Deirdre protested then went the other way. “Ahhh.”

“Women are weak.” Riddler almost shouted to make sure the listeners got it. “Get a good stake into one and she always gives up.”

“Noooo!” Deirdre screamed then added some panting to make things interesting.

“You are a consummate actress.” Riddler grinned at her.

“I need to talk to you about that.” She put in. “But thank you. That was fun, wasn’t it?

“Indeed.” Riddler answered. “Now what?”

“Don’t ask me.” Deirdre responded. “I’m kind of making this up as we go.”

“Yes, you are my child.” Riddler chuckled.

“Can we discuss this later?” Deirdre answered. “We need to work on getting out of here just now, you know.”

“Good point.” He responded.

* * * *

“She screams quite fetchingly, my lord.” The guard captain of the dungeon reported to Roric. “Though I do believe the lucky recipient of your gift enjoyed the lady’s charms regardless.”

“Good, Regul.” Roric chuckled, wishing he had been able to either hear, or better yet, witness that, but affairs of state had intruded on his entertainment. “Did you or any of your guards happen to witness the ‘lady’s’ deflowering?”

“Given some of the prisoners we have just now.” Regul sighed regretfully. “No. Oh, that sorcerer is causing problems again, should I just kill him and be done with it, my lord?”

“Do it from a distance and without his knowing what you plan.” Roric nodded with a heavy sigh while wondering. Why do all the decent lackeys lack initiative?

“As you say, m’lord.” Regul bowed then carefully backed out of the chamber while thinking to himself. Arrogant little lordling. Hoping to become a power in the world, but unable to so much as give your followers a decent reason to follow you. Money is good, but not the only incentive and someone always has more money to offer, or better, so that is not a guarantee of loyalty. Or competence.

* * * *

“All right.” Garret addressed the specially chosen troops, all better than average scouts disguised as merchants and shepherds. “Get the wagons and sheep into the pass, and at the first sign that the trolls have seen you that would be believable to them, abandon the wagons, the sheep, and anything that would weigh you down and run for the pass for all your worth. If you don’t do that, this will be a suicide mission, so don’t look back, stumble, or even stop a moment to catch your breath. Let the sheep fend for themselves.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, my lord.” One of the men responded loudly, to the amusement of the others. “Rock trolls are something that I’d rather not have a face to face encounter to regale my grandchildren with.”

“That’s the attitude I want in all of you.” Garret nodded with a laugh. “Just get the wagons and sheep into the pass, let the trolls know you’re there with them, and wait till they start moving in, then ‘panic’ and run.”

“The panic part won’t be an act, my lord.” Another grinned. “I’ll likely soil my breeches on this one, and I haven’t done that since my Da whipped me when I was three years old.”

“Well, don’t stop to wipe.” Garret advised then added. “You can do that once you’re safely out of the pass.”

“I may wait to do that till I’m safely at home.” That one fervently retorted to the laughter of everyone in that meeting.

* * * *

“Eww!” Deirdre wrinkled her nose and grimaced as she picked up the tunic and leggings an unwary guard no longer needed. “This guy doesn’t even believe in one bath a week! Let alone doing laundry on a timely basis. I swear there’s mold in the creases on this stuff!”

“It’s either that, or what you have on now.” Riddler pointed out then glared at the girl in her ragged nightgown. “And even if you weren’t my daughter, I wouldn’t let you go out in public, especially in a dungeon, with that many bits hanging out for casual observation.”

“We haven’t established with any certainty that you’re my father.” She shot back, then looked down and blushed at what the mostly shredded gown allowed to show. “But you do have a point.”

“So plug your delicate nose with something, control the cringes as that rough, smelly material dares caress your delicate flesh, and get into it!” The man whispered fiercely. “A mostly naked girl running around down here would attract a lot more attention than a smelly, even moldy, guard!”

“All right, all right!” She shot back, pulling on the breeches and tying them into place with the cord that served as a belt, then shrugged the tunic over her shoulders with a look of distasted that changed to one of wry humor. “Things like this never used to bother me at all, to tell the truth. Though the lack of bathing and cleaning is something I never put up with. Though I do wonder when I became so fastidious about things I wasn’t so bad about that earlier in my life..”

“You might have.” Riddler chuckled with a shake of his head. “But your mother never would have, and she would have let you know that in no uncertain terms as I remember her. As for being so fastidious, you’re a girl. I need say no more.”

“Oh, thanks, but I do recall a few strategically placed clouts to the head and bottom.” Deirdre admitted then winced. “Okay, more than a few.”

“Thought so.” The man answered with a quiet chuckle as she shrugged the tunic over her shoulders.

“I need a weapon.” She told him while gingerly lifting the wooden cudgel the donor of her clothing had provided.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Girl!’ She answered shortly then pointed at the cudgel. “Heavy!” Then flexed her biceps with a grimace. “NO arm strength! Get it?”

“Then we’ll find something you can use.” He soothed.

“Wait!” Digging through the discards from the incapacitated guard, now wearing her torn nightgown and facing the wall on the narrow shelf serving as a bunk in the cell they had recently gotten out of, she held up an object with a note of triumph in her voice. “I can use this!”

Riddler gave the dirk a dubious look sinceit was half as long as the girl’s arm while she brandished it with an almost unholy glee, and sighed. “You sure of that?”

“I was running in the back streets of Jhalmar when I was five years old.” She answered simply, then asked. “What do you think?”

Riddler wisely chose not to tell her.

Which was just as well.

* * * *

“All those guards bunched at the entrance to that one cell.” Deirdre noted quietly, but with more than a little curiosity. “Wonder what that’s about?”

“A lot of them have bows, which are drawn and aiming into the cell.” Riddler noted.

“I noticed.” Deirdre answered. “Should we do something to mess them up?”

“Got any ideas? That won’t get us skewered with already knocked arrows?” He questioned.

“Throw a rock or brick to the other side of them?” She asked.

“Too obvious.” Riddler answered then grinned. “But behind them… They’ll turn in the direction of the noise and probably loose their arrows when they do. Which would have those missiles going somewhere we aren’t.”

“Okay.” Deirdre picked up a loose brick and threw it. Unfortunately, her aim was off and the missile landed right in the middle of the group. “Oops.”

Not that it mattered all that much given what happened next.

A blast of some kind blew the cell door outwards, showering splinters, and flickers of flame onto the gathered guards who shouted in surprise. “How’d he get his hands loose?” Several questioned, then ducked as another blast tore through the doorway. Those still on their feet after that loosed arrows, threw daggers, bricks and even stones into the cell in response.

‘Wow.” Deirdre breathed in almost wide eyed surprise. “Mage in there.”

Giving the now doorless cell a quick look, Riddler nodded judiciously. “I’d say that’s a pretty accurate assessment. But now that the guards are really distracted…”

“Right.” Deirdre answered as the pair moved forward in unison. “I’ll go to the right.”

“Just stay out sight of whoever is in that cell.” Riddler answered while heading to the left side of the remaining guards. “You are in a guard’s uniform, after all.”

“I don’t have the helmet on yet!” She sighed.

“Well, no one’s perfect.” Riddler grinned. “Besides, no self respecting male guard of a dungeon would be caught dead with hair as long or beautiful as yours is. Just don’t show yourself in the doorway just to be safe.”

“I got it, already!” She snorted.

The pair barreled into to the remaining guards, with Riddler making good use of both dagger and cudgel. Deirdre satisfied herself with a few sneak attacks with her appropriated dirk, which broke on the armor of the second guard she took down, but by then the fight was over.

“Just like everything else I hear about Roric.” She groused while glaring at the stub of blade still attached to the hilt before shrugging and tossing it away. “Equips his people with inferior equipment just to save a few silvers. Cheap bastard.”

Another magical blast erupted from the doorway causing both Riddler and Deirdre to dive frantically out of the way to avoid being fried, frozen or whatever that one had been intended to do to its targets.”

“Try killing me in my cell while I’m chained to the damned wall, will you?” A reedy male voice shouted from the cell. “Well, come in and get me you illegitimate spawn of a randy boar and a hard up bitch!”

“We aren’t guards, nor are we trying to kill you!” Riddler shouted back, careful not to show even a bit of himself through the doorway.

“Then show yourself!” The voice responded with a dubious tone that bode badly for anyone doing that at the moment. “Unarmed and with your hands in clear view!”

“A moment!” Riddler called back, then cautiously pushed an empty helm he’d put on the end of a broken spear into view of the doorway.

The answering bolt of lightning halfway melted the helm and had the thief’s hair standing on end, from his legs to the top of his head. The reedy voice howled. “THAT for anyone stupid enough to work for Roric the oathbreaker!”

“Oh, that went well.” Riddler sighed then glared at Deirdre. “What are you doing?”

She was busy getting out of the guard’s uniform, kicking off the breeches and leaving only the under tunic. Though that fell to her knees, it really hid nothing of her shape. Especially since she was bent over the remains of the nightgown she had discarded recently. The thief heard some soft, but extremely unladylike comments coming from her as she did so.

“Working to get that poor idiot to understand that we aren’t guards.” She answered shortly while tearing a strip off the ruined gown and tying it to a stave one of the guards had dropped. “Without getting both of us killed in the process.”

“That’s indecent, daughter!” Riddler commented while he watched her.

“What?” She questioned sweetly. “The white flag, or my displaying my charms this way?”

“Both.”

“Good.” She responded as she cautiously stuck the improvised flag into the open space that had earlier held a stout oaken door and slowly waved it. “All right! We surrender, or whatever! Just no more magical blasts, okay?”

“You don’t sound like a guard.” The man inside the cell called out with uncertainty in his voice.

“I’m not!” Deirdre assured him. “Now I’m going to step over to where you can see me, all right? No magical fire, lightning, or warts, from you when I do that, if you don’t mind?”

“No promises!” He called back, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt here. Go ahead and show your…”

He trailed off as Deirdre dropped the flag and moved to stand centered in the doorway with a rueful grin on her face. “Now, do I look like a guard who would be working in some dank, smelly, cobwebby, dark dungeon?”

“Uh, no.” The man, a rather scrawny specimen clothed in the rags of what might once have been a very expensive robe, managed to answer then countered. “You could be a decoy. Someone sent to lull me into letting my guard down.”

Riddler was frantically waving at her to get out of the doorway as Deirdre gave her disheveled hair an annoyed toss, rolled her eyes and muttered. “Gods give me strength to put up with idiots.

If you think I’m a decoy go ahead and blast away.” She offered while setting a hand to one hip and glaring at the man who still had one ankle chained to the wall. “But I swear that if you do, I’ll haunt you through the rest of this life and the next four or five you live. Now would you please just let me come in and get that shackle off your ankle so we can all talk face to face instead of shouting and throwing spells through this damned door?”

“She’d do it, too.” Riddler put in as he carefully joined Deirdre in the doorway. “Haunt you for the next five or six lives you go through, that would be. Trust me on this, she’s vindictive about things like getting killed. Really vindictive.”

“So what’s it going to be here?” Deirdre questioned with a lift of one eyebrow. “Are you going to let one of us get you loose from that shackle, or do we keep dithering around and arguing until someone who just happened to notice all the noise and screaming down here decides to get some other curious people together to see what’s going on? I’m so sure that they’ll be very understanding about all their dead friends and associates when they get here. So what shall we do here? The choice is yours, but the two of us sure aren’t going to hang around here much longer.”

“You sure you aren’t guards, or some decoy they’re using to set me up?”

“Oh, for the god’s sake, man!” Riddler answered with a glower of his own while gesturing towards his lovely and very clearly female companion. “When was the last time you saw a dungeon guard or doxie who looked like that?”

“Umm, never.” The man admitted, then added. “But until recently I really don’t all that much experience with being a prisoner in some dungeon, so how would I know?”

“I guess you’re just going to need to trust us, then.” Deirdre told him while grumbling something under her breath about idiot males as she moved forward and started working on the lock of the one shackle still holding the man to the wall.

Once that was loose she stepped back, nodded then regally stalked out of the cell while calling back. “Now, you can come out, look things over, try to kill us, join us, or go your own way. Truthfully, I don’t care, just do something other than staring out that doorway, alright? Or you could stay in there if you like, just don’t expect us to hang around while you work things through that molasses laden lump you call a mind!”

“Is she always like this?” The mage questioned Riddler as he carefully stepped out of the cell, still warily watching the young woman who resolutely refused to offer him any view other than her back at the moment.

“No idea.” The thief honestly answered. “I only met her a while ago myself, but given that her behavior seems consistent up to now, I’d have to, provisionally, say yes.”

“Oh, this is going to be one interesting escape, isn’t it?”

“I think we can count on that, sir mage.” The thief nodded with a barely suppressed grin.

“Alanthas, Sorceror.” The man informed them after staring at Deirdre, the dead guards and giving Riddler a careful looking over. “I used to be employed by that pond scum calling himself Lord of this castle, but disagreed with some of his policies regarding the throne, mainly regarding who was on it, and towards a few individuals.”

“Riddler.” The thief gave a small bow and a grin. “Master thief and this, he told the other while gesturing to the distaff member of the trio, is the Lady Deirdre.”

“Lady?” Alanthas asked carefully. “What did you do to earn a place in these palatial accommodations?”

“Refused to marry Roric.” She answered simply.

“Well that shows sense.” The mage nodded then added. “And good taste.”

“Whatever.” Deirdre snorted then realized just how much the thin tunic was showing and blushed. “You two turn around. Now!”

“Huh?”

“If you think I’m wandering around down here with two men with me in nothing but a thin under tunic and barefoot think again, boyos. I need to get something halfway decent on.”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s a proper gown around here somewhere, lady.” The mage acidly responded.

“Just shut up and turn around so I can get dressed, will you?” She asked then turned that into a demand with a glower that would have melted steel given the chance.

Neither man argued as they both turned away. Rapid rustling of cloth and leather followed for a minute or so then she announced. “Okay, I’m decent now.”

They turned to see her clad in breeches, boots, and a leather vest that did very little to hide her charms. Grinning wickedly, she nodded. “That’s better.”

“Now what?” The mage questioned.

“We get out of here.” Deirdre answered simply then tilted her head as the sounds of booted feet started growing closer and indicated the direction the sounds were coming from. “Just not that way.”

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Nineteen
 By Maggie Finson
 
A Kidnapping Gone Bad

or, I’m Still Making This Up as I Go!

 

Lookouts shouted and Garret, atop a small hill, shaded his eyes while looking towards the pass with the comment. “I count all the drivers and herders coming out.”

Selstalphas watched the opening to the pass with a nod and added. “It looks as if some of the sheep made it, too.”

“So they did.” Garret chuckled with a shake of his head.

“Your orders, my lord?” Sestalphas questioned.

“Prepare to move out.” Garret answered with a wicked grin and mayhem flashing in his eyes. “I think we’ll be able to move through the pass without much in the way of problems by the time all the troops and auxiliaries are ready to move.”

Sestalphas motioned to a group of runners standing by and nodded to them. “You heard the man. Start passing his orders.”

* * * *

“Which way?” Anthalas questioned as the sounds of armed men grew closer.

“That way.” Deirdre answered, pointing to a corridor running off at a ninety degree angle to the main one they were in. “It looks as good as any other direction and a lot better than staying here. Unless you’re ready to blast our company once they show up, that is.”

“I wish it was that easy.” The mage sighed while moving into the corridor she’d chosen more or less at random. “I have to gather the energy and I used up all I had when that bunch decided they wanted me dead.”

“So how long does that take?” She questioned.

“That depends on what kind of shape I’m in, which isn’t wonderful right now. I’m afraid they haven’t been feeding me very well, and it’s been quite a while since I had a decent night’s rest, so don’t expect me to be able to do much anytime soon.” He replied.

“In that case.” She grimaced while gesturing at the passage she’d pointed out earlier. “Let’s go!”

Both men watched her retreating backside then listened to the approaching guards, nodded to each other, and pelted down the corridor Deirdre had already gone into.

* * * *

“It’s kind of dark in here, don’t you think?” Alanthas questioned while trying to peer into the shadows around them.

“That’s the idea.” Deirdre answered a bit acerbically. “Dark -- guards looking down the corridor don’t see us. Get it?”

“Well, yes.” The mage answered carefully then added. “But do you have any idea of the kinds of things that wander around in the dark in a dungeon as old as Aruendal’s is?”

“No.” Deirdre answered shortly and added. “Even if I did, those would be preferable to what Roric has in mind for me, don’t you think?”

“I don’t have the — umm — equipment to worry about that kind of thing.” Alanthas admitted much to Riddlers amusement.

“It could be arranged, I’m sure.” The raven haired beauty shot back. “Just try being a nubile young beauty with connections to the throne around that bastard. I dare you!”

Alanthas used his imagination, shuddered at what that showed him, and quietly answered. “Never mind, I get it.”

“Shhhh!” Riddler cautioned them both, and the trio waited quietly as the guards found their dead and wounded comrades then began searching for the perpetrators.

Alanthas rapidly moved his hands while muttering a few words that were very difficult to catch, and their tracks through the dust were obscured as a light breeze smoothed over the area they had just run through leaving the dust appearing undisturbed.

Deirdre gave the man an approving pat on the shoulder after that, and Riddler just grinned, though that was difficult to see in the darkness that mainly ruled the corridor they were in.

“Now what?” Anthalas questioned once the hue and cry of the newly arrived guards had faded into the background.

“We find a way to get ourselves out of here.” Deirdre matter-of-factly answered.

“Easier said than done.” The mage replied. “These dungeon passages are extensive and I don’t think anyone alive knows where all of them lead any more. Let alone what might be in them.”

“So much the better for us, I would think.” Riddler put in while giving the corridor ahead of them a speculative look. “If even the guards don’t have a reliable map of some areas, that would give us an advantage in this. That and there have to be more accesses to the surface that most people aren’t aware of.”

“It could take us a long time to find anything like that.” Anthalas cautioned. “What will do for food and water while we search?”

“Well, we could use this as a start.” Deirdre showed them a cloth bag she was holding. “Some guardsman is either a really heavy eater or this was for several of them. I grabbed it in all the confusion earlier. Anyone hungry right now?”

The trio examined the loot with the help of a small mage light Anthalas conjured, to discover several loaves of bread, a wheel of cheese, some dried meat, and some fruit and something that appeared to be a rough kind of trail mix.

“That’s my girl.” Riddler approved as she began parceling out admittedly small amounts of food to each man and some for herself.

“This will help.” Anthalas admitted through a mouthful of bread and cheese. “But what about…”

Deirdre interrupted him by holding out a full water skin with a smirk. “There’s one with wine in it, too.”

* * * *

Sentinel Pass was an eerie place, innocent enough in appearance, just another gap in the mountains with the usual brush, fallen boulders, gravel, and a few scraggly pines. But the silence was astonishing. No bird calls, no animal noises, just the soughing of the wind as it whistled merrily through the cut in mountains.

“Is it usually this — quiet?” Sestalphas questioned as he and Garret sat their horses at the southern entrance of the pass and watched the troops, laden wagons, and livestock cautiously working their way into the ill reputed pass.

“I think the quiet is a good thing just now.” Garret answered softly. “From what I understand, whenever anyone so much as enters the pass movement can be heard in the rocks above, soon followed with trolls roaring and the crash of boulders bouncing off the pass’s floor. Not to mention the screams of whoever was fool enough to risk crossing here.”

“You have no idea of how much that reassures me, my lord.” Sestalphas wryly answered.

“It should reassure, my friend.” Garret laughed. “Rock trolls are notorious for being unable to hold their liquor, and that wine I gifted them with would knock a seasoned sailor back with one drink.”

“I hope you’re right.” The former guards captain sighed.

“I am.” Garret slapped the other man on the back, grinned and urged his horse forward with a called back. “I’ll be at the head of the column, you make sure everyone gets through and accompany the last of them.”

“With pleasure.” Sestalphas answered with a grimace while thinking that they’d have to use another way to get home. Risking a passage through hung over Rock Trolls was definitely NOT in his job description.

* * * *

“I found some lanterns, fully oiled, too.” Riddler announced as he passed each of his companions one of the items. “Along with extra oil, tinder, flint, and a few firesticks if we are in a hurry to light them.”

Once the lanterns were lit, Deirdre looked over the mass of rubbish occupying the room they were in hoping to find something useful. She was rewarded with one find, which she gingerly picked up, wiped the cobwebs — and a few disgruntled spiders — off the thing, hefted it, swung it experimentally then relieved an itch in the small of her back with it. “Ahh, this has to be the ugliest, most tasteless back scratcher I’ve ever seen, but it works.”

She pushed the object, shaped to look like a withered forearm and clawed hand ready to strike, into her belt and continued digging for useful items.

* * * *

“What do we do now?” A Sergeant questioned as he and Garret warily watched a contentedly snoring rock troll.

“Go around him.” Garret shrugged.

“But it’s lying all across the path.”

“Then we do it very carefully.” Garret responded and demonstrated by leading his fretting mount to the side and partially up the gentle slope beside the track. “Like this.”

* * * *

“This was a magical laboratory!” Anthalas excitedly told his companions as they continued digging through the debris and trash where Deirdre had found her back scratcher.

“We need to get moving, mage.” Riddler told the man. “I’m as acquisitive as the next man, maybe more so, but need I remind you that our goal is getting out of here, not studying a shambles that hasn’t been touched in years, maybe centuries?”

“But the things I could learn from whatever writings we find!” The mage shot back. “Think of it! Magics, spells, potions, that may have been lost for untold time may be just waiting for me to find them!”

“If this place is any indication.” Deirdre eyed the scorched stone walls, broken and partially burnt furnishings, along with shattered glass retorts as she put in. “All you’d find in here is a recipe for disaster.”

“But an intelligent mage could learn so much from whatever went wrong in here!”

Deirdre and Riddler shared a disgusted look, took one arm of the mage each, and physically dragged him out of the ruined laboratory while ignoring his struggles and protests.

* * * *

“Might I suggest finding another route home?” Sestalphas asked Garret once the last straggler of their army had emerged from Sentinel Pass.

“Good idea.” The knight agreed then grinned. “I for one don’t have any wish to confront hung over rock trolls and from what I hear and have read, their hangovers last for weeks.”

“Like I said.”

* * * *

The small detachment of guards had found, and attacked Riddler and Anthalas when Deirdre was off relieving herself in private. Riddler had taken a pair of them with his dagger and short sword while Anthalas was actually giving a decent account of himself with a hardened oak staff he’d found.

Swearing as she pulled up the ill fitting pants and headed for the sounds of fighting, Deirdre pulled out the only thing she had available for use as a weapon since she hadn’t replaced the broken dirk she’d been using. Brandishing her back scratcher, she rushed to help her companions.

One guard was moving in behind Riddler while that one was over-occupied with the pair in front of him. It was quite clear that even if the man was aware of the opponent behind him, he was far too busy with the pair in front to give that one enough attention to avoid a killing blow.

Deirdre took care of that by the simple expedient of whacking the sneaky bastard in the head with her back scratcher. To her surprise, the ugly thing not only knocked the guardsman down, it ripped his steel helm to shreds and came back from the attack with its claws red with blood.

“Wahoo!” She screamed while taking down another guard trying to edge in behind the mage.

The fight was quickly finished, but both Riddler and Anthalas were staring at her with halfway horrified expressions on their faces.

“What?” She asked a bit testily. “You two needed help, so I jumped in.”

“But the guards you hit, lady…” The mage trailed off.

“Oh, come on, I didn’t hit them that hard!” She shot back.

“Did you use that?” Anthalas questioned while gesturing to her back scratcher. Riddler just nodded his agreement to the question.

“Yes, it worked, didn't it?”

“Do you have the least idea of what you’re holding in your delicate hand, and were using to flatten our opponents?” Anthalas questioned.

“A really ugly backscratcher?” She asked suspiciously.

“It’s a petrified goblin claw.” Riddler answered carefully as he began sorting through the weapons of the downed guards and found what he was after with a satisfied grunt. He offered the slim mace to her with a grimace. “Here, use this next time.”

“That…” Anthalas gestured to the ugly back scratcher or petrified goblin claw with something like reverence. “Is worth a king’s ransom. AND YOU WERE USING IT TO BRAIN GUARDS!”

“So?” She questioned sweetly while examining the ugly thing. “I just thought it was a back scratcher someone with really poor taste had made, and it worked. That persistent itch at the small of my back? It reached it, eased it, and now I feel wonderful! No more itch.”

Anthalas spluttered, while Riddler gently took the thing out of her hand and carefully pushed it back through her belt. “Please, just use the mace in the future, could you?”

“Can’t scratch my back with this.” She countered while hefting the mace.

“Back scratching is fine.” The thief answered with a smirk that showed he was barely hiding his amusement. “Just don’t use it for a weapon again, all right?”

* * * *

It had been a long ride through territory that had to be considered hostile. But now the goal had been reached and the dark clad figure observed the castle and lands spread through the shallow valley less than an hour’s walk away.

Making certain the chosen observation point was not easily seen from the castle or its environs, the figure removed personal items from the tack of the horse ‘borrowed’ from a nearby town, stroked its nose then with a light slap sent it home.

If this mission was successful, horses would be available in plenty to return home. If it failed, horses wouldn’t matter.

Once the borrowed mount was well gone, the figure settled into a more or less comfortable position to watch for things like guard rotations, numbers, positioning, and possible points of ingress that wouldn’t be covered at critical times.

After several hours of watching, Mina nodded in satisfaction and settled back completely out of view for a short nap. She couldn’t move further until nightfall. But then, oh then, there were debts to be paid, deaths to avenge, and some very personal payback coming. She firmly reminded herself that her first priority was to discover where Deirdre was being held and somehow get the girl out. Personal business would wait on that.

* * * *

“What do you mean, she’s gone?” Roric shouted in a rage at the unfortunate guardsman who had brought him the news of Deirdre’s escape.

That particular sergeant, who had lost the roll of dice for who would brave the anger of their lord, shook his head helplessly. “We don’t know, my lord. Her cell was still locked, but the only person in it was young Carter, stripped of his uniform and unconscious, wearing the gown the lady was in when we ‘escorted’ her to her cell. The thief and mage have managed to escape as well.”

“Then what are you dithering around here for?” Roric questioned with dangerous quiet then shouted. “FIND HER!”

“Searches are already in progress, lord.” The sergeant answered, while taking the last shouted command as a dismissal carefully bowed and began to back towards the door and the relative safety of returning to Arundel’s labyrinthine dungeons.

“Don’t bother taking them alive, either.” Roric commanded. “I want to see bodies when this is finished. Their bodies. Understand me?”

“Of course, my lord.” The man retreated and was out the door faster than some could jog forward.

Bridgette watched her future husband rail, throwing things and nearly frothing at the mouth with an unpleasant smirk that she carefully hid from him whenever his attention fell on her. She refrained from the usual womanly prerogative of ‘I told you so.’

Turning casually to catch Eel’s attention, gesturing with a small tilt of her chin for the assassin to follow, she quietly left her lover to rage until he tired of the tantrum.

Outside the chamber she gave the assassin a cool, appraising look. “Find her, kill her. I don’t care about the others. Just make sure you kill her.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Eel gave a short, nearly insolent bow in response.

“Do it, and bring me some proof, though I don’t want to see her body. Leave it to rot wherever it falls and I’ll reward you myself.” Bridgette nodded. “Fail in this, and skilled assassin or not, I will personally make sure you regret it.”

The man held no doubt whatsoever that she would be able to accomplish that, and departed her company with a chill running up and down his back. That woman was the more deadly of the pair he was working for, that was clear enough. On his way to carry out her orders, he also started formulating plans for his own escape if he once again failed at killing the damned girl.

Bridgette wore a thoughtful expression once the assassin had departed as she turned to once again listen to her intended’s anger winding down.

“Ahh, Roric, such an easily manipulated fool to be in the position you’ve already reached and especially for the one you aim for.” The expression on her face turned to one of cruel amusement. “Besides, no body, no proof. I think it would be good for you to have doubts as to whether dear little Deirdre is dead, or alive and plotting your downfall from the shadows. Oh, yes, I think that would be very good for you, darling.”

* * * *

“Move out.” Garret ordered once the forces he commanded had reorganized following the passage through Sentinel Pass. “We have time on our side right now, but Roric is going to find out we’re moving against him all too soon. I want us to be as far along as possible before that happens.”

“King Cedric is not going to be happy about this, my lord.” Sestalphas finally brought himself to the one thing about all this that really made him uncomfortable. “Marching against a fellow noble is not something that would endear you to the throne.”

“Roric isn’t a fellow nobleman.” Garret answered flatly. “He’s a usurper who has somehow managed to get his father out of the way to gain free rein in Lindsay, and I’m damned if I’ll allow him to spread his influence any farther than it has reached already.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you, my lord.” The other admitted. “Roric is a blight that will need to be removed sometime. But we both know that isn’t the only reason you’re doing this, don’t we?”

“The man has tried to murder my betrothed at least once.” Garret grated out. “And I know he has her in his filthy hands right now. Full scale wars have been started with less reason. This is just going to be a response to a raid on Chalmnessa.”

“Quite a response.” Sestalphas replied.

Looking out over better than half of Chalmnessa’s available fighting men, their supplies, and camp followers, Garret nodded. “That it is, my friend that it is.”

* * * *

Mina flitted from shadow to shadow, making skillful use of the deceptiveness moonlight gives to things as she approached her chosen entry point to Arundel Castle. There was more activity than she had expected, in fact, the place was in an uproar that shouldn’t have started until someone spotted Garret’s army approaching. Fortunately, the uproar appeared to be aimed inward instead of at the surrounding countryside.

What that might involve, Mina had her hopes, but wouldn’t count on those or allow them to make her any less cautious. Following a judicious reappraisal of her entrance strategy, she elected to proceed as planned.

Guards stationed around the walls failed to note the extra shadow carefully moving up the castle wall until it paused at the lip of the rampart, then flowed over and inside like liquid darkness.

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Twenty
 By Maggie Finson

 
Still Escaping

or, What the Hell was THAT?

 

The locals don’t seem all that inclined to warn Roric of our approach.” Sestalphas noted as the army passed the fifth village they’d seen with no sign of anyone running to warn the so-called lord of the province.

“They don’t like him.” Garret answered then added. “In many cases, I believe the common folk actually hate my cousin. He levies taxes, takes whatever else he likes, and does nothing to insure that his ‘subjects’ are even kept at a subsistence level. The man cares nothing for anything that doesn’t impact on him directly.”

“That will come back to harm him.” Sestalphas nodded thoughtfully.

“It already has.” Garret affirmed while watching underfed, but very energetic villagers ambush and kill one of Roric’s men who had been assigned to some duty in the area before he could even get his horse to a gallop. “And I intend to add more harm to that.”

“So we will, my lord.” Sestalphas replied, trying to ignore the kicking of Roric’s man as the peasants hung him to convenient tree.

* * * *

An escape! Mina hunkered down behind some convenient barrels and listened to the gossip from the townsfolk and shouts of the soldiers swarming over the interior of the castle.

“I see you’ve done it again, my lady.” She whispered in halfway amused admiration as some of the tales reached her. “The gods must love you dearly, as more than a few, including myself, do.”

Her thoughts on that line were interrupted when she spotted a tall, lean figure literally stalking towards one of the doors that talk had told her led to the dungeons of Arundel. A thrill of both rage and anticipation coursed through her like a cat walking up her backbone with its claws out to maintain purchase.

“Eel.” She whispered and her eyes gained a light that was far from pleasant to see, if anyone had been there to witness it.

Careful to make sure none noted her own progress, though in the present confusion that filled the courtyard, that was easier than child’s play, Mina followed the man through the door after waiting a few breaths to make sure he wasn’t going to come back out.

* * * *

“What’s the great thing about my back scratcher?” Deirdre questioned, genuinely curious about why her companions had been so horrified that she’d used it as a mere bludgeon.

“Your ‘back scratcher’ is a very powerful artifact, my lady.” Anthalas answered.

“Okay, so it’s good for getting rid of an annoying itch and a few soldiers.” She shot back. “Tell me what makes it so special.”

“For one thing, which I will be quick to tell you is quite unnecessary.” The mage sighed. “It brings out the warrior in anyone holding it, and aids their attacks. Simple peasants have been told of killing fully armored knights with one of those in their hands — in one on one combat!”

“Like I couldn’t do that without help.” She snorted. “What else?”

“Such a thing is also said to be a gateway to magic.” Riddler answered before the mage could get out his response past the redness of face and gasps of absolute horror at the girl’s evident lack of proper decorum with such an object. A back scratcher indeed!

“Magic.” Deirdre thoughtfully and absently moved a strand of night black hair away from her face. “Enough to fight a prophecy?”

“In some cases.” Anthalas answered.

At the even more thoughtful expression on the girl’s face, Riddler intervened. “In your case, daughter, I doubt that a petrified hand of a god would change anything. A mere goblin claw would be utterly outclassed in an attempt to change what has happened to you.”

“Figures.” She groused then grinned. “But come to think of it, Garret is cute, and he has been really, really nice to me even when I’ve been a total — umm — bitch?”

“Like I said.” Riddler rolled his eyes.

“All right.” She shrugged. “Forget that ‘changing the prophecy results’ thing. What else is the claw capable of doing?”

“So many things that having it in the hands of a non-mage is a terrible waste.” Anthalas answered tiredly. “I don’t suppose you’d consider letting me have it?”

“And give up the best back scratcher I’ve ever found?” The midnight haired beauty gave him a look of absolute horror. “Think again, mage. If things get really dicey, I might — might — loan it to you. But I’d want it back.”

“Would you accept my assessment that such a thing is necessary?” The mage asked.

“Nope.” The girl shook her head. “You’re way too high strung for me to believe that kind of thing. Now if Riddler were to scream at me to loan it to you…”

The mage and thief exchanged glances, shrugs, and both decided to give up on that particular tack.

“I’ll rely on the thief’s judgment, then.” Anthalas sighed.

* * * *

Eel started his search in the area of the cells. Though the area had been haphazardly cleaned up the still present mess told him that the casualty rate among the guards had been impressive given that only three escapees, who had to have started out unarmed, had accomplished it.

“The lady does manage to attract quality help.” He mused while searching for signs to indicate which direction the fugitives had taken once they’d finished with the guards. “Ahh, there you are.”

Faint scuffs on the floor led to a little or unused corridor and more telling was that the dust on the floor of that passage appeared undisturbed. “The mage is doing his job. Just not well enough. He should have gotten rid of your trail to the corridor, m’lady.”

The back of his neck prickled with the familiar sensation of being watched as he approached the corridor he’d spotted. The assassin tentatively dismissed it as something from the too late suspicious guards in the area, but diverted part of his attention to make sure he wasn’t being followed by someone else. Given the things that usually fell into place for his prey, he wouldn’t be at all surprised if someone was actually stalking him in this shadow and dark filled labyrinth.

* * * *

“What?” Deirdre questioned as both Riddler and Anthalas stared at her as if she’d just tumbled off that figurative turnip wagon. “All I asked was for you guys to find a secret door or two. What’s the problem with that?”

“Well for one thing.” Riddler answered slowly. “Secret doors are called that because they’re difficult to spot at the best of times, which this isn’t, by the way.”

“Even if my power was recharged.” The mage added. “Most secret doors are protected from magical searches just because of what they are. You know, secret?”

“A mage and a thief who can’t find a simple secret door.” She muttered, then shook her head. “Okay, forget I asked that one. It just seemed that with this being a dungeon and all there would be lots of secret doors for us to find. Like it is under Jhalmar.”

“Oh, undoubtedly there are, dear lady.” Anthalas answered with a heavy sigh. “The major problem with that assumption is simply that without knowing where to look, what to look for, or the triggering mechanism, we may as well be trying to walk through a solid wall. We’d get about the same results right now.”

Deirdre sighed in her turn, let out a stream of swear words that would have had a sailor blushing or up ready to fight in response to them, and grimaced. “Okay, forget that idea. Now what do we do?”

“We keep looking in chambers for a stairway, or other access leading up.” Riddler told her with a smile that was gentler than anything he usually showed. “Secret doors or not, there have to be at least a dozen ways out of this maze that lead to the surface. The trick here is finding them.”

“That would have been easier if you guys could find secret doors.” She grumbled.

* * * *

“So what do we do once we reach Arundel?” Sestalphas asked Garret as they rode through the countryside of Leslie. “Lay siege to a castle that is supposed to be our ally?”

“If we have to.” The knight responded then smirked. “But if all goes well, we already have someone inside, and I have plans that could make a siege unnecessary.”

“Peasants and tradesmen of all kinds go in and out of Arundel’s gates every day.” Garret grinned. “And I do believe there are men and women of both classes in this army. Am I right?”

“That’s underhanded, nasty, and brilliant.” Sestalphas said with an admiring look in his eyes. “You, my lord, fight dirty.”

“All that counts in a real fight is winning.” Garret grimly answered. “There is no such thing as ‘rules for gentlemen’ or ‘playing fair’ in something like this and there never were. Anyone telling you differently is a fool, and has probably lost an army or two to a commander who was less delusional.”

* * * *

“That damned girl leads a charmed life!” Roric sighed as Bridgette refilled his goblet with fortified wine. “No matter what I do, she always manages to have someone nearby, or just the plain dumb luck, to thwart my plans for her.”

“It will be all right, my lord.” Bridgette soothed, while taking a very carefully disguised non-sip of her own wine. “She is still in the dungeon, and your men will find her.”

“Or she could starve to death or maybe die of thirst wandering in that maze down there.” Roric’s mood brightened at that thought. “Or fall prey to one of the creatures that inhabit parts of the place.”

“Exactly so, my love.” Bridgette agreed while wondering how the assassin was doing with tracking the troublesome little bitch down.

* * * *

“We’ve already been down this way.” Elenth complained to his sergeant. “The girl can’t possibly be hiding here.”

“Look at it this way, Elenth.” The sergeant answered shortly. “We’re searching, and diligently. If she isn’t here, that isn’t our fault, now is it? But if we widen the search, we’ll be walking through parts of this warren that haven’t been visited for years and there’s no telling what we’d run into doing that. Which would you prefer?”

“I’ll go ahead and search this room.” Elenth answered as he walked through a door he’d been through twice already.

“Good man.” The sergeant answered.

* * * *

Eel was wary, more so than usual. There was someone following him, he could feel it. But doubling back, stopping suddenly to hear a footfall that wasn’t his, or simply searching the surrounding darkness for a shadow that didn’t fit showed him nothing that shouldn’t be there.

He concluded that he was being stalked by a professional, and one who was more skilled than any he’d come across since that woman who had been trying to protect his target in both Jhalmar and Chalmnessa. But she was dead. Since he didn’t fear ghosts — no assassin could live long without losing sanity if they did — he dismissed that possibility and wondered who else the girl’s supporters could have set on him.

* * * *

He was aware that he was being stalked. Mina knew that, and smiled to herself as she flitted back into the shadow of a wall as Eel searched. She wanted him to know, to worry, and in the end, to fear. When he’d moved far enough away to feel safe again, she breathed. “You won’t walk, crawl, or be carried away from this one, my old enemy. I’ll come here to gloat over your moldering bones in years to come and hope your spirit knows what I do.”

* * * *

This one leads up.” Riddler assured Deirdre while he looked over the opening to a shaft that yawned both up and down. But the code to get through the bars is complex.”

“I think I have it.” Anthalas replied distractedly while looking at an inscription in the wall that looked like so many meaningless squiggles to the girl. “Give me a bit of time and I can translate this.”

“Oh, right.” The black haired beauty snorted. “Someone barred a door then left careful instructions on how to open the bars. I’ll believe that one when doves mate with cows and everyone has to watch for droppings just in self defense.”

“Nevertheless.” Anthalas returned imperturbably. “That’s what I think those writings are. I believe they are instructions to open the gate leading to that shaft for anyone who can read them. In times past, people weren’t as suspicious or apt to hide things like this, and this inscription is very old.”

“If it gets us out of here, I won’t argue.” Deirdre retorted with a disbelieving little smirk. “But while you two puzzle this out, I think I’ll go on down the corridor a ways and see if there’s an obvious way out that isn’t blocked or locked by ancient craft.”

“Be careful.” Riddler absently told her while running his hands over the locking mechanism of the barred gate leading to the shaft. “I’d really hate to have just met my daughter and lose her to some idiotic monster waiting in these tunnels.”

“You give me such a warm fuzzy feeling, daddy. She shot back.

“I’m glad, daughter.” Riddler chuckled. “Being wary is never a bad thing, even with relatives. Maybe that should be especially with relatives.”

“Point taken.” Deirdre snorted. “So I’ll just go look around a bit, but don’t worry, I won’t wander off too far. Or let some nasty, ugly goblin have his way with me, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Greatly so, daughter.” Riddler absently answered as he continued feeling out the very tricky latches to open the bars keeping them from entering the shaft.

“So glad you’re concerned.” She snarked before leaving the chamber to continue exploring.

* * * *

Eel was more than wary. It was obvious that no one but his prey and her companions had been down these corridors for years. There was no telling what might be waiting to pounce on the unwary in this area.

But he was getting closer. The tracks in the dust were less diffused, meaning that his quarry had passed this way not too long ago, or else the dust would have settled into the edges of the prints they weren’t bothering to hide any longer.

* * * *

The large lump of rock stirred, lifting a horny head and sniffing the air. Deciding that what had chanced to wander its way for the first time in years was edible, it extended legs and opened its eyes.

Deirdre stopped and carefully held every part of her body still as a misshapen boulder suddenly opened its eyes and stood up when she got within fifty feet of the thing.

A maw that would have done a mythical dragon justice with all the long, sharp teeth it displayed, opened in a yawn, and the damned ‘rock’ stood up with four legs tipped with nasty looking claws while it was looking directly at her.

“Oh, shit.” She whispered, and turned to run in the direction she’d come from.

* * * *

The guard squad, with a sergeant who insisted they go through long unexplored areas of the dungeon in the attempt to find the wayward female prisoner their lord wanted, stopped as one.

A slight figure wearing a guard’s tunic and ill fitting pants, but barefoot, barreled right up to them as if it was running from something worse that what they represented.

The person in the ill fitting uniform was obviously female, and luxuriously long and thick black hair fluttered in the air as she ran.

Deirdre hardly slowed for the guard squad between her and where Riddler and Anthalas were. She grinned at the men as she ran between them adroitly dodging any attempt to grab her while ignoring orders to stop and called back. “Hey guys! Can’t hang around or talk just now, and sorry for what’s about to happen!”

Just as they turned to give chase, a roar reverberated in the corridor behind them.

* * * *

Anthalas’ concentration was broken when an even more disheveled Deirdre dived into the room and rolled across the floor. She then jumped up, slammed the door shut, and started pushing a heavy desk to block the doorway. An echoing roar punctuated with very human screams of pain and terror followed that.

“What the Hell was that?” The mage questioned a panting Deirdre as she continued pushing the heavy piece of furniture towards the door.

“No idea.” She shot back. “But it’s big, hungry, and was after me. I gave it guards to snack on first but I don’t think they’ll hold it for long. Now help me move this to block the door.”

“I don’t need these distractions.” Riddler put in.

“Ignore them and get the damned bars up.” Deirdre advised as she and the mage pushed the heavy desk to block the door.

* * * *

The Troll Hound finished peeling the hard shell of the last morsel it had killed and took time to enjoy the chewy, flavorful filling once it had.

But the scent that had originally awakened it still hung tantalizingly in the air.

A sweet fleshed, tender virgin. It couldn’t resist that scent and began following it.

Dessert!

* * * *

“Lady, we can’t pile any more in front of that door!” Anthalas panted while looking at the absurd pile of desk, furniture, and other odds and ends in front of the door leading back to the dungeon.

“Trust me, you don’t want what’s following me to get in here.” She returned while throwing even more onto the pile in front of the door.

“You’re overreacting.” The mage answered.

“The thing ATE a squad of guards!” Deirdre shot back. “And that was just to follow ME!!!”

As if in answer, something hit the door with enough force to shake the piled up stuff blocking it. An ugly roar resounded through the room as that happened.

“Told you.” Deirdre looked at Anthalas and gave him a weak grin.

* * * *

As the roar and screams reverberated through the corridor he was in, Eel halted his progress to assess just what was going on up ahead. It was clear that something nasty was prowling the area, and none of the screams had been truly feminine even if some had been high pitched enough to be from a terrified little girl.

“Guards.” He correctly deduced then smiled grimly. “I’ll have to thank their spirits for waking that and keeping it occupied before I stumbled into it.”

The really troublesome detail in all that was the tracks he followed led directly towards the sounds of mayhem. Mayhem the man had no intention at all of joining. So deciding, he settled down in a nicely concealed niche and prepared to wait until whatever the thing savaging the guards was decided to move on. Hopefully in a different direction than his hiding place was in.

* * * *

The sounds of destructive mayhem ahead nearly undid Mina, but oddly enough, saved her as well.

A sighing chuckle from an apparently empty little alcove just ahead of her warned that it wasn’t empty at all. Worse, her abrupt halt had made a scuffling noise in the gritty dust all over the floor that should have warned her quarry of her presence. Fortunately, the roars resumed along with sounds like a battering ram pounding away at a heavy barrier just as she nearly stumbled to a stop.

Melting into the shadows against the wall several paces away from the alcove, she worried about what else the monster making all the noise was after and prayed her suspicions were wrong. But until the man hiding within that hollow area moved, she was pretty well stuck right where she was. Attacking him frontally in such a confined space would not go well at all for her for many reasons. But having the monster in human form at her back and stalking her was an unthinkable risk as of yet. So, forcing herself to stop fuming and calm her racing heart, breath and emotions, she did the only thing she could at the moment. Settled in to wait for her enemy to move first even if every sense she had tingled with the urgency to move forward in spite of the monstrous roars reverberating through the corridor like an echo from an open doorway to Hell.

* * * *

“The claw, Lady!” Anthalas, sweat streaming down his face continued making rather silly looking gestures of pushing something away while he gasped out. “The Claw!”

“Here.” She answered handing it to him without waiting for confirmation from Riddler who was still working at the stubborn latches on the gate, though now he only had two more to get unlocked.

“No.” The mage briefly touched the thing then pushed it and her hand away. “Use it! I can’t hold the door much longer, without help!”

“Use it? Waaah!” She shouted as the upper planks of the heavy door splintered and fell out letting an ugly, tooth filled maw work into the gap. Without really thinking she hit the spot she hoped was a nose with the claw then danced back from another lunge accompanied by the crackle of breaking wood.

“Again, girl!” The mage managed to shout.

Deirdre failed to notice the slight golden glow emanating from the claw, but busy as she was could be forgiven for that. Lunging forward again, with all her weight behind the blow, she slashed across the thing’s nose again.

That time the creature pulled its ugly head out of the hole it had forced through the door with a deep, booming yelp and wailing roar of pain, leaving gobbets of greenish brown fluid and grey flesh behind as it did so.

Regaining his breath, the mage nodded with approval but warned. The blood is like acid for a few moments, don’t let it touch you, and be ready, the thing isn’t finished yet.”

“Somehow I just knew it wasn’t going to THAT easy.” She groused, but held the now brightly glowing claw like a readied mace. “Hey! What’s with the glow from this thing?”

“You’ve managed to tap into its magic, my lady.” Anthalas shook his head. “Stranger things have happened. Just be ready to use it about — NOW!”

An enraged roar shook the door before the creature even hit it that time, and more of the heavy planks gave way a little as it tried forcing itself through the still too small opening.

Deirdre seemed to flow forward, slashing with abandon at the monster’s head and landing several blows in rapid succession with a speed she’d never shown before, not to mention a strength she’d never possessed before.

The beast literally yanked its now shredded snout out of the hole it had forced, shook its head, let out a grumbling growl, and decided, as much as it’s dimly lit consciousness could, that the treat it was after was too much trouble and painful.

But then again, it was still in a rage. And the current objects of that were still on the other side of that stubborn barrier. Roaring, it charged the door again.

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Twenty One
 By Maggie Finson
 
Confluences

or, Have Fun Storming the Castle

 

“Doesn’t this thing ever give up?” Deirdre grumped as the monster threw itself at the door for the third time.

“It has a brain about the size of a walnut.” Anthalas pointed out while strengthening the blocking spells he had on the doorway. “It isn’t smart enough to figure out that lunch isn’t all that anxious to be accommodating.”

“Oh.” She answered then charged forward to claw at the thing’s already shredded snout with her weapon. “I AM NOT LUNCH OR DESSERT! GO AWAY!”

“Next time she hits it, I’m almost sure she’s going to shout ‘bad doggie’ or something equally idiotic.” Anthalas sighed.

* * * *

Sestalphas watched the ‘tradesmen and farmers’ trickling out of the force’s main body, reaching the road leading to Arundel, then gradually dwindling into the distance. “Do you think we’re sending too many in too fast, my lord?”

“It’s not unusual for this area at all. Tradesmen, Farmers, Merchants, all come and go constantly. Lindsay’s climate is cooler than Chalmnessa’s so they depend on trade to obtain foodstuffs with a growing season that is too long for their own.” Garret answered then pointed to the stream of carts and figures burdened with heavy packs along the road. “The few score men we’ve sent will simply blend into the crowd.”

“So when do we move?”

“Give our infiltrators another day or two then we do it.” The knight said, obviously impatient to get on with the thing, but knowing it wasn’t time yet.”

“With what I personally know of your lady, and the things I’ve heard.” Sestalphas gently, but encouragingly answered. “I’m sure she’s giving Roric and whoever else is around fits that would please even the most demanding god of mischief.”

“I would imagine so.” Garret answered, but slammed a fist on the pommel of his saddle. “Damn Roric! He’s going to PAY for this! I swear it to every god listening!”

“He will, my lord.” Sestalphas answered. “He will.”

* * * *

The news from Chalmnessa and Lindsay is more than a bit disturbing, your majesties.” Vertigan told Cedric and Evaine. “Troops on maneuver in northern Chalmnessa have dropped completely out of sight. And unrest in Lindsay has gotten to the point where peasants and tradesmen are actually lynching their duke’s representatives.”

“So I’ve heard, from other sources.” Cedric told his spymaster. “That isn’t news. Have you heard anything of what has become of Luc?”

“The Baron of Lindsay is still incommunicado and reported as terribly ill.” Vertigan answered. “Rumor has it that he is already dead, but Roric has chosen not to let that be known for some reason.”

“Or a prisoner in his own home.” Cedric nodded. “I think it’s a good possibility that those missing troops from Chalmnessa may just solve this for us if we simply allow things to play out without interference.”

“It has been intimated that Garret’s intended’s disappearance was orchestrated by Roric, as well, your majesties.” Vertigen added.

“Wars between nations have started over less.” Cedric answered slowly. “I think we should continue watching, but let things play out as they will for now.”

“I agree.” Evaine answered simply. “I believe we should let Garret recover his lady without interference from the crown.”

“As your majesties wish.” Vertigan bowed, pleased with the decision they had reached.

“Don’t gloat, Vertigan.” Evaine chuckled. “We would have reached this decision with or without your prompting.”

“Of that, I’m quite certain, my Queen.” Vertigan allowed himself to smile.

“Now, go find more trouble to get yourself and your agents into.” Cedric chuckled.

“I’m sure I can manage that, sire.” Vertigan responded with a grin.

* * * *

Eel was ready to move. The creature, whatever it was had run into some kind of resistance that was not only balking it, but painful from what he was hearing. Carefully taking a vial out of his pack, he dipped the points of several very sharp throwing daggers into the viscous yellow substance then used a strip of cloth to spread the stuff over the cutting edges of the blade. While being very careful not to let even a drop of the stuff touch his flesh.

Killing a dumb beast was generally far below anything he would stoop to. But in this case, the creature was keeping him from his goal. As usual, he fully intended to make sure his target had no chance to respond to his attack.

* * * *

Mina carefully drew out her previously prepared stilettos, careful not to let the edges even brush her skin. The poisons on those blades were potent enough to kill an elephant and she had no intention of trying to outdo one of those animals for either stamina or poison resistance.

Her target left his safe little hole, carrying several throwing daggers very carefully. Mina correctly inferred that those blades, without hilts, were poisoned. She decided to see what the man was planning to do with them before hitting him with her own poisoned blades.

* * * *

“Bad doggie!” Deirdre shouted gleefully as she hit the already shredded snout of the beast with the goblin claw.

“I KNEW she was going to say that!” Anthalas griped.

“Is she hurting it?” Riddler questioned as he took a short break from the complex locks and actually laughed.

“It looks like it.” Anthalas answered.

“Then let her holler whatever she likes.” The thief shot back.

* * * *

Eel moved into the opening of the large chamber and saw the beast trying to savage a closed door. It was quite evident that something besides the door was blocking its entrance, and it jerked back with another roar that didn’t quite cover a feminine shout that sounded suspiciously like it had said ‘Bad doggie!’

Eel couldn’t resist a little smile at that and shook his head. It was pity he had to kill this girl. She was something more than a little special, and always entertaining to be around for one reason or another. Disregarding that wayward thought, he gave some consideration to where to hit the still rampaging beast for best effect. Once that obstacle was taken care of, it would be a matter of simply waiting for the girl to show even just her head through the doorway and his mission would be finished.

* * * *

“What do I do to kill this thing?!” Dierdre panted after fighting off another sally by the beast. Nasty green goo and gobbets of monster flesh were clinging to the claw and she not only appeared frustrated, but tired. “And can’t you cast a spell to kill the thing?”

“Not while I’m holding what’s left of the door in place and warding the holes in it.” Anthalas panted back, appearing as tired as the lady. “If I shift to an offensive spell, that might not work even if I did manage it, the thing would break through what’s left of the barrier.”

“It’s healing!” She complained as the thing, with a much less ravaged muzzle snuffled at the opening it had forced.

“It’s a troll hound.” The mage answered. “Named that because it regenerates, meaning…”

“I KNOW what that means, mage!” The dark haired little beauty screeched like a thwarted she cat on the hunt and found the energy to slash the thing’s snout open again. What I want to know is how to KILL it!”

“The right poisons, providing you could penetrate its hide.” Anthalas answered then thoughtfully added. “Fire might work, too.”

“Daddy dear!” She called back to the preoccupied thief. “Get me a torch!”

“Here you go.” Riddler answered then tossed her a rod of metal with the head wrapped in slow burning cloth steeped in oil.

“Thanks.” Deirdre looked at the torch, sighed then added. “I needed it already lit!”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Riddler questioned in irritation. “Make up your mind about which thing you want, the torch lit or me getting this grate unlocked?”

“Light it up.” She demanded, holding the torch out behind her. “If that thing gets in here, an unlocked grate won’t do us any good if we don’t have time to get into and up the shaft, now would it?”

“I hate it when a woman is right.” The thief opined, while striking flint next to the torch. “They never, ever, let you forget it.”

“Less talk, more lighting the torch.” Was all the response he got.

* * * *

Eel gathered his concentration. Getting a mere throwing dagger, no matter how sharp or well thrown it was to accomplish anything, presented something of a problem against this particular beast. His first throw had bounced off its hide and the thing hadn’t even noticed it was under attack.

“Vulnerable points, need to find them.” The man thought, though he did have thoughts of letting the monster do his job for him. Pride wouldn’t permit that, though.

The beast actually reared, exposing a less armored underbelly, and Eel was quick to take advantage by throwing two of his knives in quick succession. One bounced away harmlessly but the second lodged itself between plates in the thing’s belly and showed no sign of falling out.

* * * *

Mina simply watched as her old enemy first puzzled out how to hurt the monster then did so. She was impressed, but that admiration did nothing to change her intent. Sadly, his attention on the beast was too brief to allow her getting close enough to make use of her own weapons against him. Besides, if the man could help kill the beast, she thought that would be just as well. So, again, she settled into a comfortable but ready posture in the shadows and waited.

* * * *

“What was that?” Elenth questioned his sergeant as horrible roars, screeches, and screams that were probably human echoed to where they stood with the rest of the squad.

“Something we probably don’t want to find.” The sergeant sighed. “But one we can’t ignore this time. Come on lads, take lances and have them at ready positions. Let’s go see what we’ve got down that way.”

The squad members, including the sergeant, took long lances from a nearby rack and sharing resigned, fearful looks, moved towards the ungodly sounds they all heard.

* * * *

“Still no word on the search?” Bridgette questioned while she watched another merchant enter the small town within the castle walls. “And aren’t we getting a pretty heavy influx of traders and farmers recently?”

“No, the girl hasn’t been rounded up yet.” Roric grumbled and joined his intended at the window to watch things below. “As for the traders and farmers, they tend to arrive in cycles. Farmers get their crops in and come to sell the surplus; merchants follow with the hope to relieve them of some of that extra income.”

“Still, simple economics just doesn’t quite jibe with the numbers we’ve seen arriving the past few days.” The woman answered thoughtfully then turned to a maid attending her. “Get my cloak, and have an escort assembled for me.”

The girl curtsied and quickly moved away to do her mistress’ bidding while the pair continued watching the scene below them. Roric glanced at Bridgette with a slight sigh. “Going shopping, I take it?”

“Among other things.” She answered with a small grimace that could have been a smile. “I’ll have a few of my maids mingle with the crowd once we’ve left the castle itself and see if they can pick up some useful gossip or anything that would seem out of place down there.”

“I’ll see if I can’t light a fire under the guard, on the search. There are a lot of places to hide in that warren under the castle, but surely the girl and her companions have left some traces of their passing.”

“Do that, my love.” Bridgette nodded then gave him a kiss on the cheek while thinking that her hound would be likely to find the girl before any of those idiotic guards even got a sniff of where she was.

* * * *

“Take that!” Deirdre shouted as she rammed the burning torch into the thing’s maw and just about lost it to the snapping jaws. But the beast did pull back rapidly with another yowl of pain. Catching her breath again, she noted to the others. “I think it’s slowing down.”

Several things happened at once following that statement. The beast collapsed with a loud thud, the much abused door finally fell to pieces as Anthalas’ reserves finished themselves off and his spell failed, Riddler crowed “It’s open!”, and a familiar if unwelcome male form started entering the chamber.

“Ah, m’lady.” Eel almost purred as he took in the exhausted mage and the still off balance male — probably a thief given what he’d just heard the man say then considered his prey with a predatory, admiring smile. “You’ve led me through many a twist and turn to get here, well done. Unfortunately, not quite good en--.”

* * * *

Mina watched the beast shudder and collapse to the floor, with smoke and flames coming from its nostrils and partially open mouth. Good one, girl! She thought as Eel moved with the sinuous grace and speed he was known for to move past the dying or dead creature and moved into the now very open doorway.

She matched the speed and stealth of the man’s moves, and got close enough to hear him gloating at Deirdre then suddenly moving back without finishing what he had been saying.

* * * *

“Not good enough?” Deirdre actually growled without sounding like an annoyed kitten and rushed forward with the goblin claw already sweeping to rip off the man’s face.

The assassin was actually taken by surprise. He hadn’t expected the girl to directly attack instead of trying to run, dodge, or hide behind one of her companions for protection. He pulled back, but not before the ugly clawed thing she was wielding sliced three painful furrows down his cheek, barely missing an eye.

“You’re going to pay for that, girl.”

Deirdre only glared at him in response, ready to launch another attack that Eel admitted would be far faster and deadlier than he or anyone else thought the girl capable of.

“You’re still going to die, you know.” He told her, watching for the slightest twitch of muscle or eye movement that would warn him of an impending attack.

* * * *

“No.” Mina, having moved into position behind her target whispered. “This time you die. Once and for all.”

Before he could turn she delicately inserted both blades into his kidneys and savagely twisted them. “Like someone once told me. You should have made very sure I was dead before leaving me just lying there.”

Eel felt the blinding pain in his lower back then the heat that he recognized as poison just to add the insult to the already fatal injury. Forcing himself to not simply fall to the floor in reflex with an effort that would have done a god credit, he turned to face his unexpected assailant with a poisoned blade ready in his hand. “I may die, but I won’t go alone.”

“Well it won’t be with her.” Deirdre grated out as the goblin claw in her hand shattered his skull and splattered blood and brain matter against the wall.

“Nicely done.” Mina grinned at Deirdre then took a look at the weapon in her hand and gave an appreciative little whistle. “How did you manage to get that?”

“My back scratcher?” The girl grinned and shrugged. “Just found it while we were trying to find a way out of here.”

“Back scratcher.” Mina briefly closed her eyes then grinned again. “Do you happen to know exactly what your back scratcher is?”

“A petrified goblin claw.” Deirdre answered with a little moue that might have been the beginnings of a grin. “Anthalas and Daddy have been going kind of nuts over it since I found it.”

“I can imagine — wait a minute! Daddy?” Mina looked first to Deirdre, then at the two men in the chamber with her.

“Riddler, m’lady. Master thief and sometimes lover to Deirdre’s charming mother.” The thief moved forward smoothly and took Mina’s hand to place a soft kiss on its palm. “It seems I have the honor of being the young lady’s real father, though we just discovered the fact recently.”

“She has your chin.” Mina distractedly responded, not quite sure what to say at the moment.

“I thought you were dead!” Deirdre interrupted that confusion by hugging the one time assassin tightly.”

“Not quite.” Mina, on firmer ground with that, grinned. “I got better.”

“And you came for me!” The girl, make that woman answered with gratitude and something like love in her voice and expression.

“I’m not the only one, dear, dear lady.” Mina answered without pulling away from the hug and giving one of her own in return. “Garret has half Chalmnessa’s army on the way to rescue you.”

“He does love me!” Deirdre grinned.

“You ever doubted it?” Mina shot back.

“No.” She admitted then grinned. “But bringing an army to rescue me? That’s sooo romantic!”

“You and I need to talk about what romance really is.” Mina chuckled.

“Ummm, ladies?” Riddler interrupted. “We do have a way out of this maze that is now open and ready for use, courtesy of my poor skills.”

The mage finally managed to rise out of his cross-legged sitting position, though he still appeared exhausted. “Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready.”

“Oh, Mina, Anthalas.” Deirdre made the quick introduction. “Anthalas is a mage and Mina is my bodyguard, and an ex-assassin.”

“You must make things interesting for men trying to court the lady.” Anthalas told Mina as he nodded in her direction with a grin.

“I would, if the sister of the only man to successfully do that wasn’t my Liege.” Mina answered with a returned grin. “My lady’s brother is the only one who has even dared to pay court to this rather unusual young lady. No one else has even tried. I think it’s an innate sense of self preservation. M’lady Deirdre seems to — umm — attract, shall we say, interesting circumstances?”

“Point taken.” The mage actually laughed. “No longer than I’ve known her I could readily attest to that one.”

“The lady is a trouble magnet of legendary proportions.” Mina confided to the mage in a whisper.

“I heard that!”

* * * *

The guard detachment stopped to gawk at the dead monster, though none of them was quite willing to walk up and make sure it was really dead, the dead man sprawled in front of the creature, and hearing voices from the door both the monster and dead man seemed to have been interested in.

“If they killed that I don’t think I want to bother them.” One of the guards said quietly.

“Neither do I.” The sergeant answered then put in. “But we have to do it, at least yell at them to surrender. If they don’t want to comply and show signs of a real fight we won’t pursue the issue more than is expected from ‘stupid’ guardsmen, all right?”

“If they show too much fight or magic we run?” One guard asked.

“Sounds good to me.” The sergeant answered. “We aren’t getting paid enough to deal with whatever they used to kill the beast or that fellow in the doorway. Half his head is gone.”

With that he shouted. “HO! You in the chamber! Come out without weapons and your hands in plain sight!”

* * * *

“Figures.” Deirdre grumbled. “After all we’ve gone through already, some idiot guards stumble into where we are.”

“Be nice, Deirdre.” Mina answered. “Those guards have probably been trying to follow you since your escape, and now they find you, they think, to find a dead monster and assassin in front of the door leading to where you are. They are probably less inclined to show themselves than you are under the circumstances.”

“So what?” The midnight haired lady questioned. “Does one of us just shout ‘Go Away!’ and expect them to do that?”

“We could, you know, just a suggestion.” Riddler put in. “Get into the shaft and pull it closed behind us. After fighting those locks for so long I can tell you that the grate will lock if it’s pulled shut.”

“Sounds good to me.” Deirdre nodded after a little consideration. “Once we get in could I at least shout ‘come and get us!’ before we disappear?”

“That would work.” Riddler chuckled.

“It’s the mystery thing.” Anthalas put in.

* * * *

The guards heard a shouted response. “Come in and get us!”

When they got there, no one was present to take.

Okay, it's been awhile and I apologize for the wait. I know this is a short chapter, but I wanted to get it out there so hope on the story wasn't given up...

In this chapter plans are laid, some are nixed, and in general, the mayhem continues.

Maiden by Decree
Chapter Twenty Two
 By Maggie Finson
 
Maiden at Large

Or: What Do You Mean, Armed and Dangerous?

---

 

“That was work!” Deirdre grumbled as the group finally reached the top of the shaft they’d found deep within the dungeons. “Now I’m going to get big muscles and Garret isn’t going to want to marry me.”

“I thought you didn’t want that to happen.” Mina answered while adding. “Besides, exercise is good for you.”

“What? Getting muscles a guy would be proud of?” Deirdre snorted. “Not for me, thank you. I don’t think I’d look at all good with bulging muscles.”

“Let me get this straight.” Mina answered with a lift of her eyebrows. “Aren’t you the person who wasn’t going to willingly be a girl? And now you’re complaining about getting masculine muscles?”

“People change.” Deirdre shrugged. “If I could get rid of all ‘the people trying to kill me or throw me into dank, dark dungeons not to mention monsters trying to eat me’ stuff I could be good with things as they are.”

“Well, I can’t really argue with that.” Mina chuckled. “But you do seem to be more comfortable with your new self than you ever were before you got kidnapped.”

“I’ve had to reevaluate things.” The dark haired little hellion shrugged. I just had to face that I’ve had more fun as a girl than I ever thought of trying when I was a boy. Does that make me weird?”

“I don’t know.” Mina answered with a roll of her eyes. “I used to be an assassin, and a nasty one, now I’m happy being a sometimes ladies maid and full time bodyguard to a very difficult young lady who never lets my life get boring. You tell me which one of us is weird. Though counting all that has happened to you and your friends as fun is more than a little odd.”

“I have the feeling that my — umm — daughter will never have things other than ‘interesting’ going on around her, Mina.” Riddler interrupted that conversation with a chuckle. “She seems to attract ‘things of interest’ that tend to be more than a bit dangerous. I’ve only been reacquainted with her for a short while but that assessment appears to be right.”

“Oh, trust me.” Mina nodded with a wry smile. “It’s accurate.”

“All right, all right.” Deirdre grumbled then brightened. “You can all talk about what an unusual person I am later. The immediate question we should be considering is what do we do now?”

“As usual, the lady gets to the point at hand.” Mina shook her head and chuckled. “First, we get you out of here. Then cause whatever mayhem we can to distract Roric and his soldiers so you can make your escape good.”

“I see one problem with that plan.” Deirdre answered without the slightest trace of mischief in her expression. “If all of you stay behind, I’m not going. Besides, if I’m already outside the walls, that kind of ruins Garret’s rescue mission, doesn’t it?”

“It would also avert a minor civil war.” Mina pointed out.

“No.” Deirdre squared her shoulders and glared at the former assassin. “I get out, Garret takes me home, and Roric gets away with all this and will try again. He’ll interpret Garret’s withdrawal as weakness and that will just make him bolder. Not only would I not be safe, the entire kingdom would be at risk if that happened.”

“Gods, I prefer it when she is ranting or being so innocent she doesn’t understand the simple things.” Mina muttered. “It scares me when she actually makes sense. Bad things happen to people opposing her when she does that. Usually in spectacular fashion.”

“I’ve noticed that.” Riddler put in with a grin.

“Oh give me a break here.” Deirdre grumbled. “Like I can help it that things just kind of go waaay south when I’m involved. I don’t do it on purpose!”

“We know you don’t, dear.” Mina soothed. “But you do have to admit that ‘interesting’ things tend to happen whenever you’re involved.”

“Define ‘interesting’.” The fiery little beauty demanded.

Anthalas looked slowly around, took in the cramped little space they’d reached, and thought about what the delicate appearing little lady who had asked that had managed to do since he’d met her. And actually laughed. “Well, let’s start with you being thrown into a dungeon cell with an amoral criminal who just happens to be your father. Then we move right along to you enabling that one to pick the lock of your cell. After that, you managed to blunder into rescuing me. Should I also mention that you weren’t at all afraid of the Troll Hound, and even shouted ‘Bad Doggie’ when you were gleefully battering away at the monster.”

“It was just a spur of the moment thing.” Deirdre muttered.

“But now.” Anthalas went on. “We need to find a way out of here, for all of us. A way that won’t involve a lot of attention and people trying to stop us.”

“I can find that.” Mina grinned.

“But then Garret won’t have to ‘rescue’ me!” Deirdre countered.

“Oh trust me, dear.” Mina answered while holding in the laugh she wanted to let out. “Garret is angry enough that even if he finds you outside these walls, he won’t stop his attack.

“Ohhh.” Deirdre’s face took on the expression of a girl who was in love. “That’s sooo… romantic!”

“You and I need to talk about what romance really is.” Mina told her.

“Hey!” Deirdre interrupted the general plotting. “Bridget is down there, without a guard!”

“Oh, there are guards.” Riddler countered that with a shrug. “Just because we can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there. The damned woman is important to Roric. Of course she has guards!”

“But I could sneak up on her, ‘Whang!’, half of our problem here is solved! She’s the brains of the outfit! Get rid of her and Roric would founder really fast!”

“Which would have ALL the castle guards actively hunting us.” Anthalas pointed out. “Instead of only half of them.”

Deirdre muttered about spoilsports, and too cautious people then shrugged. “You guys aren’t going to let me have any fun here, are you? But really! If I take that bitch out, I take out all the scheming and skullduggery Roric has been involved in recently. Then he’ll only be a bully who can be slapped down and will stay there. If Bridgette is around, he’ll be a constant danger to everyone.

Please, please! Let me bash her and get this over with.” She pleaded.

“No!” The others answered almost in unison.

“Can I throw a nice heavy rock at her?” The midnight haired hellion questioned almost plaintively.

The rest of them didn’t even bother to answer, just made very sure there were no rocks of even annoying size within her reach.

“Spoilsports.” Deirdre pouted. “I’m telling you my way would solve a whole LOT of problems really fast.”

“Not to mention that doing so would have the entire castle guard, all the soldiers, and even some of the merchants and peasants hunting us down.” Riddler put in almost laconically.

“You guys are no fun at all!” Deirdre sighed, but gave up on her plan to brain Bridgette.

Bridgette wandered through the courtyard, watching and listening carefully as she examined goods offered by the merchants occupying that area.

Paying attention to both accents and whether or not the merchant was really trying to make the best deal possible, she decided that the influx of traders was just a jump in the usual traffic. But still, she had an uneasy feeling.

“Search them all.” She ordered the guard commander as she walked past him. “Let them complain, but we need to be sure none of these merchants have more in stock than they show.”

“As you say, m’lady.” The commander bowed.

“Kill anyone you find with more than acceptable weapons for a merchant travelling a dangerous route.” She ordered. “Take the offender out of general view then do it. We don’t need a riot in the courtyard.

The Guard commander nodded, while wondering why he was obeying this trollop’s orders but sure that ignoring them would be a catastrophe for him and his officers. “I’ll see to it, m’lady.”

“Leslie Castle.” Sestalphas unnecessarily announced as he and Garret watched the fortress from the cover of the trees.

“Is she in there?” Garret questioned no one in particular as he scanned the ramparts with a telescope. “And if so, where?”

“Knowing your lady, my Lord.” Sestalphas answered quietly. “Probably where she can cause the most trouble in the least amount of time.

“Probably.” Garret chuckled in spite of his concerns for the young woman. “If she’s free, I can’t see my Deirdre NOT causing trouble of some kind for her putative captors.”

“As I said, my Lord.” The general nodded with a slight grin of his own. “I just can’t see your rather volatile lady putting up with being captive for any longer than it would take for her to slip the leash. Given her luck, I think that would have happened some time ago. Look how the guards and other soldiers are swarming behind the walls. Something has them stirred up.”

“Right.” Garret nodded with a slow grin spreading across his own face despite his worry, then he turned back to business. “What progress on the siege engines and how close are the cannon we brought.”

“The catapualts, and arbalests will be ready by dawn.” Sestalphas answered. “The cannon are even now moving into position. We’ll be ready by sunrise tomorrow, my lord.”

“Good.” Garret, still watching the walls of the fortress, answered. “Start the attack before sunrise. We should catch the night guard at their low point then.

Even if everything isn’t ready.” He finished at the look he got from the general. “And have the scaling ladders ready and at the foot of the walls when that happens. I want this to be as bloodless a possible, and as fast as can be done. This will be finished by tomorrow afternoon.”

“As you say, my Lord.” Sestalphas answered then gave orders that were passed along to the various units of the force waiting on a hopefully unprepared enemy.

“How did Roric get cannon?” Deirdre questioned no one in particular as she examined the wall defenses of Leslie Castle. “Those were supposed to have been limited to Chalmnessa and the navy.”

“The only constant about a state secret, or any secret.” Riddler answered. “Is that it isn’t quite the secret everyone thought it was. Unless the only people who know it other than one are dead.”

“Those guns will rip Garret’s forces apart unless we do something about them.” Deirdre ignored the homily and got to the point that needed to be looked at. “We need to do something about them.”

“Suggestions?” Riddler put in.

“Water the powder.” Deirdre answered, drawing on her knowledge from the sea voyage she had taken. “If it’s caked up, it won’t pour.”

“Are you saying that I should…” Riddler stopped when his daughter handed him a full water skin with a nasty grin. “Never mind, I’ll do what I can, sweetling.”

“Good.” The young woman gave him a sunny smile that slowly changed into a frown. “If I wasn’t your daughter, I’d hurt you for calling me that.”

“A father’s privilege, my dear.” The thief shrugged while watching all the movement on both the walls and the grounds of the courtyard. “I can do it, but I’ll need more water.”

“I can provide that.” Anthalas grinned. The mage flexed his fingers while watching the well at the center of the courtyard. “You won’t run out of water, believe me.”

Mina took a spike out of her pack, giving it and the cannon a speculative look. “Now if that doesn’t work, what would happen if the powder and shot had no exit in the front?”

“Like a blast spell, the force would have to go somewhere…” Anthalas answered then understanding dawned on the mage’s face. “The backfire would destroy the cannon!”

“That’s what I thought.” Mina grinned. “I can get to each of those cannon in all the confusion that’s going on around here now, and make sure they won’t fire.”

“And you people think I’m crazy.” Deirdre muttered.

“What do I do while you three are up to all this?” Deirdre questioned.

“Stay here, out of sight, and out of trouble!” Riddler answered, backed up by emphatic nods from the others.

Deirdre watched Mina and Riddler move to commit what quiet mayhem they could manage while trying to ignore the muttering Anthalas was doing to enable the spell in support of Riddler’s mission to wet all the powder for the cannon on the walls of Leslie Castle to happen without the thief returning for refills on the water bag he carried.

Taking advantage of the numerous shadows offered by the ramparts in the evening sun, Mina moved carefully from one gun emplacement to another, leaving the spikes originally meant to keep doors open or give convenient hand and footholds for climbing walls in the touch hole of the cannon Roric had managed to acquire. She'd considered doing it to the muzzles then realized that would probably only result in another object being shot when the canon fired.

Not happy about simply sitting there while her friends were taking action, Deirdre started scanning the courtyard and surroundings for something she could do without ruining what the others were up to. Seeing something that caught her eye, she grinned. “Aha!”

Bridgette seated herself in the Lord’s chambers without waiting for permission and ignored the glower Roric gave her for the presumption. “There are an inordinate amount of merchants from Chalmnessa here right now. I ordered the guard to search them all, and take care of the ones who have more in stock than a regular merchant should have regarding weapons.

If nothing else, some of them have to be spies.” The woman continued. “I would suggest clearing the courtyard, send all them packing with whatever explanation you like. Or I could come up with one. We need them outside the walls. Inside they are a potential threat that can’t be ignored.”

“Garret may be moving.” Roric answered confidently. “But he would have at least another week before he could marshal a force capable of taking Leslie, or even threatening the castle. I wouldn’t worry about those merchants so much just now. We could better spend our time thinking about where he will attack from, not worrying about a few inconsequential merchants.”

“Garret will be here sooner than you or any of your other advisors believe.” Bridgette answered firmly. “We can’t discount the possibility that he was able to get his troops through Sentinel Pass. We need to be wary now, because if he did manage that, we could find hostile forces at our doorstep tomorrow.”

“If he was foolish enough to try that.” Roric shrugged. “The rock trolls are even now picking their teeth with his bones and those of his troops. No one gets through Sentinel Pass.”

“Complacency like that.” Bridgette snarled. “We will lose the prize we’ve worked so hard to achieve. Plus, has anyone come up with something about Garret’s bitch?” She questioned.

“Don’t worry about that little trollop.” Roric answered with a shrug. “She couldn’t have survived some of the things in the bowels of this castle. She’s dead, eaten, and is probably the droppings of some beast down there right now.”

“Can you be sure of that? Absolutely sure?” Bridgette questioned acidly. “The little bitch has confounded us at every step so far.

“Even her gods be damned luck has to run out some time.” Roric responded with gritted teeth. “Something will catch up with her and put an end to that problem.”

Deirdre appropriated a cloak that covered her to the ankles and had a hood to cover her head, though it was still wet from the laundering that had made it available to her then worked her way down from the walls into the courtyard.

“Dammit, Bridgette is gone already.” She muttered while moving towards the merchant she recognized. Once she was at his stall she pulled her hood back slightly and greeted the man by name.

“My Lady!” He answered her in horrified amazement. “It was thought that you were a prisoner here! What are you doing here!?”

“I was.” Deirdre shrugged then grinned. “But things tend to change around me, you know. And I’m sowing confusion among my enemies.”

“Indeed, M’lady.” The merchant answered carefully, knowing full well how things involving this young woman tended to go south in a hurry no matter how careful one was. “You shouldn’t show yourself like this! And what is it that you require of me?”
“These fireworks of yours.” The petite brunette answered. “Are magical, correct?”

“Yes, M’lady.” The man answered carefully.

“But they blow up like the new gunpowder, correct?”

Nudging one of the rockets the man had on display so it pointed at one of the gun emplacements, Deirdre innocently went on. “And they make fire and explosions, right?”

“Yes, M’lady. Though they are light and noise, without harming the things around them.” The merchant answered carefully watching as she carefully moved more of his rockets into different positions.

“Excellent. I’m not trying to hurt more people than necessary here. The men at arms and other soldiers are simply obeying their lord, and since Roric’s father is either indisposed, incommunicado, or otherwise gone, he is their lord. You can’t punish them for following their lawful lord, can you? So your fireworks would be perfect, I’m simply looking for a distraction when the attack comes, and come it will, I know Garret. Would you object to them aiding him in his siege of this place?” Her smile was dazzling and he found himself caught up in her charm.

“And how might I do that, M’lady?” He questioned. “Though that is one of the reasons I am here.”

“Allow your rockets to go where I’ve pointed them when the alarm of an attack is raised.” She told him just before she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Can you do that?”

“Oh, uh, easily, M’lady.” The merchant responded a bit breathlessly while he understood what Garret saw in this young woman. “Just let that happen and what you ask will be done.”

“When it has been done.” Deirdre gave him a smile that nearly melted his bones. “Come back to Chalmnessa and you’ll have exclusive rights to fireworks during celebrations. I promise you.”

“My Lord?”

Garret gave Sestalphas a long, careful look.

“Let them know we’re here.” Garret answered. “Move the troops out of the forest and let them see us.”

“Yes, sire.” Sestalphas answered. The order passed and over ten thousand troops moved from the cover of the forest to begin setting up for battle at the skirts of castle Lindsey.

“Where did she go?!!” Riddler questioned with clear murder in his eyes. You were supposed to be watching her, mage!”

“I was making sure you didn’t run out of water, thief!” Anthalas shot back then added. “Besides, she’s your daughter. Can you keep track of her?”

“To be honest, all gods as my witness.” the thief grudgingly replied. “just thinking about trying that gives me a headache.”

“Then don’t accuse me of losing her when you can’t keep track of her.”

“Losing who?” Deirdre innocently questioned as she rejoined the group and shed the disguising cloak.

“Where were you!??” All three others would have shouted if they hadn’t been worried about attracting attention to themselves.

“Oh, is it me you lost?” The girl grinned mischievously.

“Daughter, you’re going to give me heart failure!” Riddler grabbed her by the shoulders. “What were you doing?”

“Just helping out with the siege.” She answered with a shrug.

“What siege?” Anthalas questioned.

“The one Garret is going to mount to get me back.” Deirdre answered as if the question had been idiotic in the first place.

“Sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Anthalas asked.

“He loves me.” Deirdre shrugged. “What else would you expect?”

“Deirdre.” Mina quietly put in. “You approach things as if you’d been a girl all your life and were waiting for the right man to come along.”

“Well, not all my life.” The little brunette smirked. “But I’m learning as I go.”

“I’d have never guessed.” Mina opined with a straight face though she was stifling a belly laugh.

“Is my daughter a wanton?” Riddler questioned with a chuckle.

“Only with one person.” Deirdre answered, actually appearing offended by the idea. “I wouldn’t do that with you, or Anthalas.”

“I’m devastated.” The mage responded cheerfully. “Though if you loved me, it could be a lot more devastating.”

“Should I be insulted here?” Deirdre questioned while raising an eyebrow and giving the mage a sexy little smile.

“Uh, no, M’lady.” Anthalas swallowed before he got the answer out, making sure that other parts of his anatomy weren’t betraying him. “I — Uh. I just don’t have an army to come rescue you with, dear lady.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.” Deirdre grinned and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Aren’t you the one who wasn’t going to be a girl?” Mina questioned almost innocently. “You’re doing really well at being one, just for your information.”

“No getting out of it.” The lively young woman grinned. “I may as well have fun with what I have, right?”

“Garret is doomed.” The former assassin sighed then laughed.

“Oh, I already have Garret.” Deirdre answered with a shrug. “I just need to catch all the other males around to cement my status and hope the other women will understand.”

“Gods.” Mina sighed. “You were a woman all along, just wouldn’t admit it.”

“Hey! I watched my sister and mother work guys through most of my life!” Deirdre shot back. “How would I NOT know how to do that if I was paying attention at all?”

“Point taken.” Mina admitted. “But you learned really, really well.”

“No masculine influence in my life, you know?” The petite beauty shot back. “What was I going to choose as a role model? Lalo, the village idiot?”

“You’d have done well at that, too.” Mina grumbled.

“I’m NOT an idiot!”

“Could have fooled me at times.” Mina quietly answered.

“Girls aren’t idiots.” Deirdre answered with a smirk. “We’re airheads, clueless, or lovable.”

“Hey!” Riddler interrupted. “Focus here! We’re in enemy territory and the bad guys are actively hunting us! So why are you discussing girl stuff right now?!!”

“You got a better idea while we wait?” Deirdre asked as both women gave the men looks that would have curdled milk at a hundred paces. “What? We should go out and actively attract attention to ourselves? Like I should just go out to the middle of the courtyard, throw off my cloak and shout. “Hey, idiots! Here I am! Come get me!”

“Might not be the best idea.” Riddler acknowledged.

“Okay.” Anthalas nodded then looked at Deirdre. “But what did you accomplish by talking with that fireworks merchant?”

“I suggested that he could kind of aim things at specific spots.” Deirdre shrugged. “Lots of noise and lights, but no real explosions. Confusion, but no real fatalities. I hope.”

Mina just grinned. “If it works, it works. If not, we still have the fireworks.”

“But Roric will corral every merchant from Chalmnessa.” Riddler put in.

“Ahh, there’s the beauty in this.” Deirdre smiled beatifically. “Crenshaw is from Ithalca.”

“And you got him to agree to going into harm’s way?” Mina questioned.

“Well, I did make him a few offers.” Deirdre admitted.

“What KIND of offers?” Riddler had to keep himself from shouting.

“Oh, nothing compared to one I’m going to give you, dear father.”

“Why do I feel as if I should run now, and not look back?” The thief questioned.

“You’re wasting your talents as a mere thief.” His erstwhile daughter responded with a brilliant smile. “I do have plans for you, dearest Daddy. To compensate for the years I went thinking my father was dead.”

“Why do I think I should be worried?” He questioned.

“I’ll put an end to your thieving ways, daddy dear.” Deirdre smirked. “Except for dodging taxes.”

“I know I should be worried.” Riddler sighed.

“It will all be legal, too!”

“WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING?”

“You’ll find out.”

“That worries me. A lot.”

“Good.” Deirdre answered with a chuckle.

“Besides, Garret couldn’t possibly get an army here in the time since you were taken.” Anthalas put in.

“Care to wager on that, mage?” Deirdre seemed preoccupied with something in the distance as she asked that. “Say five gold Jhalms?”

“If you’re willing to throw your money away, I suppose it would teach you a lesson.” The mage nodded.

“Then you agree?” Deirdre asked with a funny little smile on her face.

“Yes, yes.” The mage nodded. “It’s a wager. He won’t be here for at least another ten days, I’m sure.”

“Pay up, then.” She smirked while pointing in the direction she had been watching. “I do believe those banners are Chalmnessa’s colors.”

After glancing that direction, then performing a double take that would have justice to an overstressed sapling returning to its upright position after being bent almost double he acccused. “You set me up for that one!”

“You could have looked before you agreed to the wager.” Deirdre chuckled then held out a small hand. “Now you don’t go back on your word do you? Pay up.”

“I don’t have any money on me.” Anthalas grumbled. “But I can get it, you devious little hellion. Later.”

“I’ll accept your IOU, then.”

“You’re a hard woman, M’lady.” Anthalas grinned in spite of his discomfiture.

“You’ll be wasted as a mere Duchess.” Riddler shook his head in admiration.

“Why, daddy, did you just compliment me?” Bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief she tilted her head fetchingly while probing a cheek with her tongue.

“Practicalities here.” Mina interrupted as the alarm bell sounded. “There are going to be soldiers swarming the walls and high points soon. It would probably be a good idea to move before that happens, don’t you think?”

“Probably so.” Deirdre agreed. “Just don’t ask me to go back down that shaft. Please.”

Roric was still arguing with Bridgette when the sonorous tolling of the alarm bell ended the conversation. “What the?”

“I believe the impossible has just happened.” The woman grimaced. “That has to be Garret, or perish the thought, the King himself.”

“If it is Garret, he’s bitten off more than he can safely chew on this time.” Roric growled as he moved towards the door. “He’ll be outlawed for breaking the King’s Pax.”

“Unless he can prove that you broke it first.” Bridgette answered almost sweetly.

“Then find his little bitch and get rid of her, permanently!” Roric ordered.

“Oh, of course, my lord.” With a curtsey and obedient enough smile she avoided his wrath by demurely exiting the chamber through one of the secret doors opening into halls leading to other parts of the castle.

Under a flag of truce, and with his personal guards in attendance, Garret approached the gates of the castle shouting. “Roric! I would have words with you!”

Roric appeared a bit shaken once he reached the wall to glare down at Garret. “You are violating the King’s Pax, cousin, by bringing your troops to my doorstep this way! Take your army home now and I won’t have you hunted down as the outlaw you’re becoming.”

“I violate nothing that hasn’t already been shredded by you, cousin!” Garret glared back. “You know why I am here. Send her out and I’ll leave you to your mistress and whatever other mischief you think you can get away with. Refuse, and I’ll take Lindsey from you.”

“I don’t have your trollop!” The nobleman answered truthfully enough. Though he did neglect to mention that the lady in question had slipped his grasp earlier and was probably somewhere within the castle.

“Then you’ve either killed or lost her.” Garret responded. “I know beyond doubt that you had her spirited away. This is your last chance, usurper. Produce her or suffer the consequences of your faithless act.”

“Kill him.” Roric ordered several archers standing nearby. When they hesitated, he turned on them with a roar. “He’s an outlaw damn you, by his own acts here! Parlay does not apply to such. Now do as I ordered.”

The bowmen nodded, drew arrows and nocked them before taking careful aim.

“You, know,” Riddler pointed out as they found a convenient niche in the wall and tried to make themselves comfortable. “A lot of unpleasantness could be avoided if you simply showed yourself on the walls and waved to Garret.”

“Oh, I’m so sure Roric would let me live long enough to do that.” Deirdre snorted. “I’m a living testament to his guilt in the kidnapping at least, and that would have people looking far more closely than I think his other affairs would bear. He wouldn’t, couldn’t allow that. I’d be dead the moment I showed myself.”

“Your faith, or lack of it, in human nature is nearly as disturbing as your cynicism in one so young.” Riddler rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement. “Unfortunately, I think you’re right.”

“I know I am, Daddy.” Deirdre sighed as she rested a delicate hand on his cheek affectionately. “I’m also sure that if Roric isn’t taken down now, he will be a much worse source of grief for the kingdom in the future. His ambition has no restraint, and acknowledges no limits. That man desires to be King, and won’t give up that ambition until he gains it or someone stops him.”

“And you think you’re the one to stop him?” Anthalas questioned softly.

“Oh, no.” Deirdre shook her head while smiling beatifically over the wall. “That is someone else’s job. I’m simply the catalyst to see that it’s done.

“Bridgette, on the other hand…” she thoughtfully nodded as the woman appeared in the courtyard chivvying a group of soldiers into rounding up all the merchants from Chalmnessa and sending others off on other missions.

“She’s yours, daughter.” Riddler assured her.

“I have a few things to discuss with her.” The young woman grinned nastily while stroking the mace the others insisted she use instead of the goblin claw she still carried.

“Sweetie,” Mina quietly entered the conversation. “you do know that you’re one very scary person at times don’t you?”

“Oh yeeesss.” Deirdre nodded with an altogether too pleasant little smile given what she was contemplating. “I fully intend to discuss a few things in depth with that bitch.”

“Why am I glad we’re on her side?” Anthalas whispered to Riddler.

“Oh, it’s probably that human instinct for self preservation.” The thief chuckled. “Those who oppose her tend to suffer in one way or another.”

“You’re right. She’ll be wasted as a mere Duchess.” The mage let out a sigh of near wonder and shook his head.

“Just don’t forget to pay on that bet you lost to her.”

“You got five Jhalms I can borrow?”

“Not at the moment, but given the situation, I’m sure I can rescue your honor within a few hours.” The thief laughed and clapped the mage on the shoulder.

“I believe this parlay is finished.” Garret wheeled his horse after seeing three arrows bury themselves in the earth mere inches from him and led his guards away from the walls at a gallop.

The flag of truce, lashed to a spear, was buried point down at Lindsey’s gates.

“How could you have missed at that range?!” Roric raged, batting the unfortunate archers aside and taking one of their bows. “I’ll show you how it should be done!”

Watching the tableau on the wall over the gate, Anthalas muttered something that sounded like, “Oh no you don’t you faithless, forsworn bastard.”

He then started gesturing with his hands and almost singing in a language that none but him understood. Drawing in a careful breath, he pointed a finger at Roric and said one more word. The bowstring parted at the longest reach of the man’s draw, and viciously lashed at his face.

“Nicely done, my friend.” Riddler patted the mage on the shoulder. “That should have our unpleasant host in a rage that will cloud his thoughts for a few minutes at least. Long enough for Garret to reach his lines safely, at any rate.”

“Consider your gambling debt paid in full.” Deirdre gave the mage a hug. “Thank you!”

“Garret’s buglers are sounding the call to arms.” Riddler noted almost idly. “The siege engines are moving up now.”

“Then we need to get ready ourselves.” Dierdre replied then started snapping out orders with a tone and force that implied she had far more experience at command than she really did. “Mina, Anthalas, once things really start use the confusion to free the merchants who have been locked up. Find some way to arm them and head for the gates, get them open any way you can. Riddler, you’re with me. We have some hunting to do, father.”

“Indeed we do, daughter.” The thief nodded grimly while noticing without comment that the petite, if somewhat bloodthirsty beauty he had just recently discovered to be his own flesh and blood pull out her goblin claw. “Indeed we do.”

“What do you mean the cannon are useless?” Roric questioned the white faced gunnery captain in front of him.

“The guns have been spiked, my Lord.” The man answered quietly, we have removed most of them, but the powder is wet as well. Wet powder won’t take fire, so our guns would be worth more as something to drop on the enemy’s heads just now.”

“Deirdre, you bitch!” Roric roared out. “Once I’ve taken care of your lover, I’ll find you and make you curse your own mother for giving birth to you!”

“Do you think our little tricks made him angry?” Mina questioned with a little smirk.

“I would say so.” Deirdre nodded judiciously then chuckled. “Now the real fun starts.”

As the first stones from the catapults thudded into the walls and booms of a few cannon were accompanied by shattered masonry, the walkways on the walls, especially around the gate parapets were engulfed in a thundering, blinding display of fireworks.

“Ahh, I do love a good fireworks show.” Deirdre grinned as she motioned her compatriots into motion.

“I do believe that fiery, prancing pony is dancing on Roric’s head.” Riddler observed.

“I think we may want to move our attack time forward, my lord.” Sestalphas calmly told Garret.

“Why do that?” The Knight asked. “We already have things planned out.”

“Well, I think your lady is alive and well.” The other answered and pointed at the walls of Aruendal Castle. “Look for yourself.”

Garret did, to see the walls flaring with of all things, fireworks. “That has to be Deirdre all right, it’s just her style. Subtle is something she hasn’t quite gotten a handle on as of yet.” With a chuckle that also held relief, he gestured at the walls of the castle. “Sound the attack, my friend.”

Deirdre grinned at Riddler and gestured towards the courtyard. “Shall we go, father?”

Mina and Anthalas had already departed, moving towards the high walled stock pens the merchants had been confined in, and the thief shook his head, sighed, and nodded. “By all means, daughter, let’s do that. Why would we allow all this beautiful confusion to go to waste?”

Taking out the goblin claw instead of the more sedate mace she carried, the girl actually laughed. “Now I really know where I got my wild streak, Daddy, dear.”

“It was from your mother.” He muttered while working to keep up with her pace.

“What was that?” She questioned.

“Never mind.” Riddler told her. “I know where your ‘wild’ streak came from, too. Though it may surprise you. We’ll discuss that later if you don’t mind.”

“Bridgette is down here somewhere.” Deirdre continued her progress, stopping long enough to brain the unfortunate guard who thought to try and stop them. “I want that bitch. Without her Roric is nothing more than an annoyance to slap down once in awhile.”

“I have to agree with you, knowing both of them.” The thief nodded and winced as she used the goblin claw on another guard. “Could you go easy on them, dear? They don’t realize what fools they are being when they get in your way.”

“What?” She asked sweetly. “Would you rather I sidled up sexily, kissed them then put a knee in the family jewels? At least this way they will be able to sire children if they get lucky with some girl.”

She punctuated that with another whack that took an incautious guard down then gave her father a questioning look as if to say ‘what?’.

“I can see that you and I are going to need to discuss our different definitions of ‘easy’.” He sighed.

“Later, daddy dear.” She smirked then began surveying the courtyard with a predatory expression. “I need to end this. And I need to do it soon.”

“Well, at least I don’t have the problem of worrying about you and boys.” He muttered. “If anyone besides Garret tries anything with you, they may as well start wearing dresses or apply for positions in some harem.”

“Oh, I’m not that bad!” She demurred.

“Darling, the beloved part will be decided later, daughter.” Riddler shook his head in mixed unease and admiration. “You are what they call a ‘ball breaker’. I wouldn’t presume to intentionally make you angry with me, I can tell you that much even no longer than I’ve known you.”

“It’s okay, daddy.” She gave him a winsome smile, patted his shoulder and finished. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“You have no idea of how much better that makes me feel.” He answered quite seriously.

“Good.” She responded then moved further into the courtyard. “Now that we have that lovely father/daughter moment finished, let’s find that bitch.”

“If you can stun the guards, I can open the gate.” Mina told Anthalas. “If I have to fight my way to the locks it might take longer.”

“Far be it from me, to impede alacrity in our endeavors.” The mage sighed as he made a few gestures and said a few quiet words. The four guards at the gate obligingly fell over. Anthalas grinned, waved her forward, and finished. “Do your stuff.”

“What if they shake off the spell while I’m working here?”

“If they do.” Anthalas grinned as he picked up a club and began to watch the fallen guards. “If that happens, I’ll make sure they have a really bad headache when they do wake up.”

“A man after my own heart.” Mina chuckled as she started working on the locks. “You and I should get together after all this. We’d have fun.”

“I was doing fine up to now.” He told her with a straight face. “But now I’m worried.”

“Aww, it’ll be fun!” She promised while popping one lock open and moving to the next one.

“Define fun.” He answered then stopped as the last lock opened and Mina pushed the gates open with a whoop of pleasure meant for him. “Never mind.”

“Okay all of you!” Mina shouted at the merchants who ranged from confused to moving to take advantage of the open gates with determined expressions. “Weapons and armor are out here for the taking, what you don’t find here, we can locate. But we need to take the front gate and open it for all this to work!”

At least a cattle stampede didn’t leave the people it ran over mostly naked. But the mostly nude guards still lying there unconscious weren’t too badly trampled.

Taking in the confusion on the walls, and within the courtyard, along with the hostile troops rapidly advancing from the vantage of a balcony in keep, Bridgette ordered the members of her personal guard. “Get out there, get the unaffected men to the walls, and make sure that gods be damned fireworks merchant sets nothing else off inside these walls. Move!”

While her guards scrambled to obey, she continued watching as Roric managed to get the men on the wall facing the attack back into a least a semblance of order. The man was decent commander and warrior, she had to admit to herself, even if he was an easily manipulated fool in the bedroom. But things had reached a point where they were close to untenable unless something drastic happened to change things soon. She hoped the relatively unaffected reinforcements to the wall would manage at least some of that.

“Deirdre.” She almost growled. “This is your doing, all of it. If your dead body were to be thrown over the walls, or better yet your live, screaming one tied to outside of the main gates…”

Taking up a handy short sword, she waved her free hand in a gesture encompassing her remaining guards and the door leading out of the chamber. “I know that bitch is around in that confusion. We’re going to find her and put an end to this siege.”

Roric’s vision and hearing were starting to clear enough for him to be able to do more than shout out commands to minimize the confusion, but things were still more than a little blurred and disorganized. “Stay at the walls! Your sight will clear in a moment! Ware the scaling ladders now!”

Men whose sight and hearing wasn’t at all impaired began to reach the ramparts to both reinforce and relieve the still shocked troops that had been in position when the fireworks had impacted around them. Not caring at the moment who had ordered them there, he began directing them to the most advantageous positions he could find.

“They’re recovering from the fireworks display, m’lord.” Sestalphas observed as crossbow bolts, arrows, and a few stones began hitting among the attacking force.

“Yes.” Garret nodded as his troops began raising scaling ladders to the enemy parapets. “But the diversion allowed us to get next to the walls without interference. Let’s take advantage of that, shall we?”

“I believe we are, m’lord.” Sestalphas answered simply as the hooked ends of the scaling ladders gained purchase and troops began swarming up them.

“So we are.” Garret grinned nastily. “So we are.”

The semi-organized chaos of a fortress under siege aided Mina, Anthalas, and the freed ‘merchants’ in their progress to the gates.

“There it is.” Mina pointed towards the part of the gate tower that contained the mechanisms for raising the portcullis and opening the gates. The troops guarding our goal have their attention turned outwards. Carefully, now. Move up but wait for my signal to strike.”

“Murder holes.” One of the men pointed out as they viewed the man made tunnel between the outer gates and the courtyard.

“Leave that to us.” Anthalas patted Mina on the shoulder with a feral grin. “You lot concentrate on getting the gates open so Garret can get in. We’ll make sure he and his troops get here intact.”

“I’m liking you more and more, mage.” Mina grinned at him.

“Should I be worried about that?” He questioned.

“Oh yes.” The one-time assassin assured him. “People I really like tend to not live dull lives.”

“I noticed.” Anthalas answered with a sigh that wasn’t one of resignation. “Shall we go, my lady?”

“I am no lady, sir.” Mina chuckled as she started moving up the stairs leading to the chamber above the passage from outside.

“If Deirdre can be a lady, so can you.” He muttered then blushed when he noticed that she’d heard him in spite of the surrounding din of battle.

The smile she gave him in response nearly made him forget what they were supposed to be doing.

“She has to be out here somewhere!” Bridgette told herself while searching the confusion that was the central courtyard. “I’ll make sure that little bitch pays for all the grief she’s caused us.

Keep your eyes open.” She told the guardsmen with her. “You all know what to look for now. Miss her and you’ll regret it, I promise you.”

“I know that two faced, lying, conniving bitch is out here somewhere just waiting to get a taste of whatever hairpiece she’s wearing right now.” Deirdre muttered while giving the chaos in the courtyard a slow, careful look. “And this time I won’t be stopped from feeding her the whole thing.”

“Taste a hairpiece?” Riddler questioned, certain that his daughter had been up to far more than simply learning to be a lady in the time since she had been co-opted into helping Garret.

“I was feeding it to her once before.” Shaking her midnight hair away from her face with a minimal toss of her head, she shrugged. “Getting thrown into the fountain — twice — kind of interrupted that pleasant task.”

“A story I’m sure is well worth hearing.” The thief nodded while trying to get the imagined taste and feel of hair out of his own mouth without visibly shuddering. “But later, all right? “Concentrate on the task at hand. Finding her in this mess of bodies, carts, and livestock.”

“I am, daddy.” She shot back with an expression most daughters gave their fathers when asked if they were keeping up with the household chores or if they would get around to doing one of those. “Keep your own eyes open. Watch for a woman, mousy brown hair, decent body, and a nasty attitude. Oh, knowing her, she’ll probably be surrounded with guards of some kind.”

“Like that one?” He asked while pointing out a young woman accompanied by four soldiers not fifty paces away from where they were.”

“That’s her!” Deirdre crowed happily. “Let’s go get her!”

“A moment, dear.” Riddler literally pulled her back from charging right into the group he had spotted for her. “We’re outnumbered and those guards are much better armed than we are. I would suggest using a bit of stealth here. If you’re capable of that kind of thing at all.”

“I heard that!” She told him once he had muttered that last line.

“Just try and be a bit less obvious than you usually tend to be when we approach them is all I ask.”

“What?” The little hellion questioned with a hurt expression on her face. “Do you think I’m stupid? Shouting a challenge to her would have half the people in the castle on us in a heartbeat.”

“Oh, no, dear.” Riddler answered in a carefully placating tone of voice. “You just tend to be — somewhat more demonstrable than is appropriate at the moment.”

“You take care of the soldiers at the murder holes.” Mina told Anthalas, knowing he wouldn’t kill them out of hand. “I’ll handle the ones on the gate controls.”

“Just try not to kill too many of them.” The mage nodded with a crooked grin. “But you know what the lady charged us with so I’m sure you’ll use good judgment.”

“I’ll only kill them a little, I promise.” Mina winked.

“You have no idea about how much better that makes me feel.” He grinned back then picked half of the recently freed ‘merchants’ and told them. “Make sure she does that, will you? The rest of you, with me, we have things to do.”

Bridgette was furious. The fireworks merchant who had caused such trouble was nowhere to be found. Worse, that raven haired bitch she knew was the cause of it all still hadn’t been spotted. “How difficult can it be to find one merchant and a girl who a mere look at has men’s eyes popping out of their damned heads?!”

“Ummm, lady?” One of the soldiers with her asked quietly as he gestured carefully without pointing. “Would that be her?”

“Indeed it would be! Good man!” The putative lady of Lindsay answered almost gleefully. “Capture, don’t kill her! Holding her could well end this siege to our advantage yet.”

“Of course, m’lady.” The man answered, regretting that his ideas of a roll in the hay with the young woman in question had been dashed.

“Well, some of them are bleeding.” Mina admitted once she and her contingent had taken the side tower that held the controls for the gates. “But none of them are dead. Now get those gates open, people!”

No one answered because they were already doing just that.

*

Anthalas cast a sleep spell and was gratified to see that it worked on most of the men at the murder holes. The rest quickly fell to the men who were with him, and the rumbling of the gates opening and the portcullis that further shielded the interior of the castle raising reached them.

Looking at the men with him, the mage prepared another spell, and simply told them. “Now we hold what we’ve taken. Some of you tie these men up so they can’t give us trouble later.”

Garret smiled in satisfaction as the soldiers near the gates of the castle shouted. “The gates are opening!”

He urged his destrier forward until he waited at the slowly opening gates, and lifted his sword as the opening grew wide enough to admit a mounted man. “In! We have won the battle if we take this opportunity!”

*

Roric felt as much as heard the ponderous gates of Aruendal castle opening and turned from his defense of the wall. Swearing, he charged down the stairs to stand at the entrance to his castle while shouting. “To me! The gates! To me and hold them out!”

Garret gave Roric a thin smile as he entered the courtyard and his voice penetrated the pandemonium as if it was a razor sharp stiletto entering the vitals of an enemy. “So, cousin. I believe you are trying to hold someone who is dear to me. I have come to get her back.”

Deirdre and Bridgette saw each other at the same time.

“Yes!” Deirdre shouted almost gleefully.

“You’re going to die, bitch!” Bridgette shouted back.

“Don’t bother coming for me!” The raven haired little beauty shouted back with a feral grin. “I’ll come to you!”

By Maggie Finson

---

 
Garret glared at Roric and the battle swirling around them faded to almost nothing. The knight showed that he wasn’t completely lost in the immediate confrontation when he almost negligently parried a thrust to his side by one of Aruendal’s men at arms, then sent the man spinning against the wall with the flat of his sword.

“You won’t live to enjoy saving your lady, cousin.” Roric grated out. “If she has even survived long enough to be rescued.”

“If she hasn’t I’ll curse your soul to an eternity of the torments you put her through.” Garret answered in a level voice that still carried through the din of battle. “And trust me cousin, I have the means to do just that.”

“Less talking, more action.” Roric responded with a sudden sweep of his sword meant to separate Garret’s head from his neck.

Garret’s answer was a lightning quick parry, and a return strike at his enemy’s sword arm.

“What next, lady?” One of the merchants questioned Mina as Garret’s troops surged through the opened gates.

We go help Anthalas hold that upper passage, and keep the murder holes from being used against our guys.” Mina responded while moving towards the stairs to the passage over the entrance, then pointed to a squad of Chalmnessa’s soldiers just passing. “You! Hold the gates!”

Anthalas stared at the entrance to the corridor leading from the courtyard and shook his head at the noise coming from there. More coming! Be ready!”

“Ho! Anthalas!” Mina’s voice carried up to him. “Don’t do anything hasty. We’re here to help! If you blast me, I will be most unhappy and will take the time to show you — personally — just how upset I am!”

“Watch that entrance.” The mage told the men with him. “If she’s unrestrained it’s okay, otherwise, you know what to do, just do your best not to hit her when you’re doing so.”

He punctuated that with a small fireball at the entrance to the wall itself as more of Roric’s troops tried to regain the murder holes and easier access to the gate mechanisms while shouting back to Mina. “The help would be appreciated since I’m running low on spells here!”

Bridgette shifted the sword in her hand and glared at the one woman she hated more than anything else in life. Even worse, the uppity little bitch was actually smirking at her. “Why are you standing there smirking like the village idiot who finally figured out what the thing between his legs is for? I thought you were going to come to me!”

If anything, Deirdre’s grin grew wider as she shrugged in response. “Umm, I changed my mind?”

“You, guards!” Bridgette singled out a group of scruffy guardsmen wearing Roric’s livery and peremptorily gestured for them to follow her and the guards she had brought with her. “Fifty gold to the one of you who brings her to me alive, forty if she’s dead when you do!”

The seven guardsmen first looked at her and her escort in something like alarm, then shrugged and joined her little group without protest.

“Oh, this is too good to be happening for real.” Deirdre carefully, and not all that well, held in a chuckle that appeared as if it could easily become very unladylike guffaws.

“What do you find so amusing about facing eleven soldiers instead of four?” Riddler grumbled without looking up as he worked at one of the simple ‘surprises’ he was rigging for said soldiers.

“Daddy!” The girl sighed and shook her head in near exasperation before stifling another laugh. “Have you really looked at the seven new ones dear Bridgette pulled in?”

“Been kind of busy here, you know.” He answered then paused to glance up, then lifted his head more slowly and let his gaze remain on the group. “Well, I’ll be d…”

“Don’t say it.” Deirdre cautioned him then grinned. “Even if you probably are for one reason or another.”

“Daughter, your blind, stupid luck is going to become a thing of true legends at this rate.”

“Well at least it isn’t bad luck.” She said with a smug expression.

The raven haired demoness watched for a moment, then started laughing without even trying to move away.

“Oh, keep laughing.” Bridgette grated out. “Especially when you’re strung up in front of your precious Garret and hanging there choking your life out!”

“Oh, I don’t think things will get that far.” Deirdre chortled as she waved at the added guardsmen Bridgette had commandeered. “Those added guards -- aren’t on your side! This is sooo priceless!”

“What?” The other woman screeched and turned to order all eleven guardsmen to take the insouciant little bitch. Only to discover that the seven newcomers had quite handily subdued the four she had entered the courtyard with.

“Oops.” Deirdre laughed then her expression changed into one that was deadly serious. “Now dear, you’re all mine. Do bring your sword along. The men won’t stop you from doing that. Just don’t try running away. I’d really be put off if I had to chase you down again.

Bridgette had no intention of even trying to run away. Screaming in rage, she ignored the traitorous guardsmen, spies, or whatever they were and charged straight towards her tormentor with sword raised for a devastating downward strike.

A space had cleared for the fight between Garret and Roric. Supporters for each man made certain no one interfered even if that did cause a few broken heads, or other less dense bones, on those who tried.

“Your.” Swing “Precious.” Clang! “Little bitch.” Crash! “Is dead already.” Zing! “Cousin!”

“I think.” Duck, Shing! “Not.” Garret got out in answer. “You.” Swhish, Bonnggg! “Talk.” Screech! “To much.” Clatter. “Cousin!”

Roric continued taunting while Garret kept raining blows and avoiding others in silence punctuated only by grunts of effort.

King Cedric and several of his advisors watched the unfolding battle for Lindsay from the vantage of a hill overlooking the valley the castle loomed over with varied expressions.

Vertigan, the spymaster, obviously uncomfortable in his light armor, observed the mayhem across the valley with more equanimity than others in the small group. “You do know that people are going to accuse Garret of breaking The King’s Peace after this.”

“Garret is doing his job.” Cedric answered with an idleness that spoke of having had this conversation so many times already that he was bored with it. “As my legally designated heir, even if not publicly announced as of yet, he is enforcing that peace. Roric broke it by taking Lindsay, doing whatever he did to his father to get it, kidnapping Garret’s fiancée, and collusion with Cardasia to take the throne by promising them some of the richest lands of our kingdom in payment. That spy we captured wasn’t all that good at holding information back, was he?”

“His interrogation was — umm — quite intense.” Vertigan answered with a small grin. “One can’t blame him at all for letting a few things slip.”

“No, I suppose not.” Cedric agreed, still watching the chaos of battle around and inside the castle. “Roric better hope Garret just kills him, though. If he falls into my hands he’ll wish that had happened.”

“Why do I get the impression that you hope Garret doesn’t kill him, your Majesty?” Vertigan questioned.

“I never did care much for the self important twerp.” Cedric answered with a shrug. “Or for his taste in women. Hopefully the lady Deirdre will solve that one for us. I know she would greatly enjoy doing so.”

“You seem very sure that she is still alive, my King.” The spymaster grinned.

“Well, for starters can you think of anyone else who could have successfully engineered fireworks striking the defenses and defenders on the walls, from inside?” Cedric questioned with amusement then added. “While pulling that feat off at precisely the right time to assist Garret’s siege efforts?”

“Good point, sire.” The spymaster nodded with a chuckle. “Things like that do tend to happen when she is in proximity to unfolding events.”

“Indeed they do.” Cedric agreed.

“Die bitch!” Brigdette screamed as her sword made a deadly arc for the other’s head. Only to be stopped in mid-arc by something that looked like the ugliest back scratcher in creation.

As the goblin claw hooked and held the sword, then almost negligently threw it aside Deirdre gave her opponent an evil little grin. “Now you know we don’t need extra weapons for this. I want to rip your throat out with my teeth and nails.”

“Easy enough for you to say,” Roric’s putative queen shot back, “while you hold a weapon and I don’t.”

“Oh, this?” The midnight haired hellion questioned as she waved the claw in the air then tossed it back to Riddler. “Hang on to this, daddy, but be careful with it. I have things to take care of here that are too personal for weapons.”

Adroitly catching the thing in spite of being surprised, Riddler stuck it through his belt and sighed. “You are sooo much like your mother.”

“Fool!” Bridgette crowed, lunging at her enemy with a needle pointed stiletto.

“Oh, I cheated, too.” Deirdre grinned as the mace she suddenly pulled out struck the knife out of Bridgette’s hand. “I know better than to trust you to fight without doing so, and if you aren’t cheating, you aren’t trying, isn’t that right?”

“Bitch!”

“From you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” Deirdre actually laughed while idly tossing the mace back to Riddler. “Now, can we get to the really fun things, like me wringing your skinny neck?”

Bridgette screamed in response, attacking with nails, teeth, and feet.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Riddler advised one of Roric’s men who had started moving to either stop the fight or join it as he waved the mace his daughter had just tossed him in the man’s face. “Trust me, if I hit you it would be a mercy compared to what would happen if you tried to interrupt that.”

The pair of screaming, cursing, flailing, scratching, biting females rolled into a puddle that wasn’t all mud and the guardsman reconsidered his actions with a shrug, dropped his sword to the ground and stepped back.

“Smart man.” Riddler approved.

“You’re slipping.” Anthalas informed Mina while pointing out several of Roric’s men who were still twitching, so must still be alive. “You left a few.”

“Well, you did ask me to go easy on them, didn’t you?” The ex-assassin questioned almost innocently.

“I’d kind of hate seeing you go all out against someone.” The mage sighed, but grinned at her as he did.

“You did, down in the dungeon with Eel.” She smiled back.

“I was kind of busy then, myself.” He admitted. “I missed it, I fear.”

“No matter.” Mina chuckled. “You’re a bad influence on me, sir mage. I’m losing my edge catering to your requests.”

“I seriously doubt that, my dear.” Anthalas shot back then grimaced as he glanced at the entrance from the walls. “More coming and here I am out of spells and without my tomes.”

“You can use a staff, as a weapon, right?” Mina asked without seeming to be all that interested in his answer.

“Yes, why?”

“Try this one.” She smirked, handing him a stave made from gleaming ebony wood with silver caps at both ends.

“This is magic!” He responded looking the weapon over with a curious expression on his rather plain face. “What does it do?”

“You’re the mage,” Mina answered simply, “you figure it out, but you can hit people with it until you do.”

“Where’s your hairpiece?!” Deirdre screamed into Bridgette’s face. “I was looking forward to cramming it down your throat and leaving it there this time!”

“Sorry, bitch, I didn’t bring it!”

“Oh, then eat this!” Deirdre growled back while pushing a noisesome mass of glop into her enemy’s mouth and industriously working to get it down her throat.

Riddler took advantage of the mass confusion around the best cat fight he’d seen in years by gesturing to the soldiers who had overpowered Brigdette’s men at arms to pay attention to keeping other Lindsian soldiers from interfering with the developing fight. In spite of wincing at one particularly well placed blow Deirdre got in on the other woman’s midriff he grinned proudly at one of the ‘merchants’ Garret had previously sent into Lindsay. “”That’s my little girl. Something, isn’t she?”

“Uh, which one would that be?” The soldier questioned while working to keep his attention on the people in the vicinity instead of on the rolling, spitting, screaming, clawing and biting blur of arms, legs, nails, hair, and young women.

“Why the one who’s winning, of course.” Riddler said as if that was perfectly obvious, then relented. “The Lady Deirdre, you know, the raven haired one on top just now -- oops, now she’s on the bottom -- oh, never mind. I can’t keep track of who is on top, the bottom, or sideways with those two just now.”

“Maybe…” the soldier grimaced in sympathy as Deirdre landed another telling blow and Bridgette pulled back a hand filled with midnight hair, “we should stop this?”

“Feel free to give it a try.” Riddler shrugged. “I’m not putting my precious self into the middle of that!”

It was clear that the soldier agreed with the thief as he shook his head and reluctantly turned back to watching for any of Roric’s soldiers foolish enough to attempt interceding in the squalling blur of mud covered females.

“Here’s your hair back!” Bridgette spit out while trying to wrap the deep black tresses she had pulled out of her enemy’s scalp around the bitch’s throat.

“Oh, do you want this tooth back?” Deirdre responded while cutting the other’s cheek with an incisor that had somehow ended up in her hand, successfully interrupting the attempt to strangle her with her own hair. “Here, let me put this back in your mouth.”

“I think it is time to add our own force to this fracas.” Cedric waved towards the bugler as he closed his telescope and put it back in its cover. “Sound the advance. I imagine things will be over with by the time we arrive, Garret seems to have things in hand. The gates are breached, his troops are swarming over the walls, and I see Roric’s troops seem to be wisely throwing down their arms.”

“Gilding a lily aren’t we, sire?” Vertigan questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, most likely.” Cedric nodded as he urged his horse forward to the notes of the bugle. “But it should be interesting to see the aftermath of all this. I am gratified to see that Garret has done his best to minimize the actual casualties on both sides.”

“I believe he owes a lot of that to his lady, sire.” Vertigan put in with a crooked grin. “Without those fireworks, it would have been a real fight on the walls instead of Garret’s troops simply overwhelming the defenders.”

“Oh, yes.” Cedric grinned back. “What a queen that one is going to make! I almost pity anyone trying to oppose her in times to come.”

Garret had Roric on the defensive with a sudden flurry of blows that ended up with his enemy splayed out on the ground and weaponless. “You’d be wise to just surrender, Cousin. If you get back up I may be tempted to go ahead and just kill you for the things you’ve done to me and mine recently.”

“It seems that you hold the advantage here, Garret.” Roric answered after regaining his breath. “Why not get it over with and kill me now, you know you really want to do that.”

“Oh, I’m not showing you any mercy here, cousin.” The knight responded without inflection in his voice and no expression betraying what he felt on his face. “Though I do admit that I’d much rather you tried something just now, killing you when you’re obviously beaten is not something I’d do. Though I’m sure if our positions were reversed you wouldn’t refrain from killing me.”

The defeated nobleman simply glared in response until Garret turned away slightly to issue orders to his victorious troops. Lindsay’s soldiers were throwing down their weapons and giving up in droves by then. With a speed no one thought him still capable of, Roric seized his sword and struck at Garret’s head with an almost animal growl.

The blow went true enough to strike, but glanced from the helm Garret still wore, knocking it off to spin in one direction while the knight collapsed from the blow. Though his triumph was short lived as surrounding soldiers swarmed him to the ground in response.

“Desist and lay down your weapons, in the KING’S NAME!!” A deep voice roared from the gates, stopping what little fighting was still going on. Eyes turned to the source to see Cedric, surrounded by his own warriors surveying the surrounding chaos without expression.

Onlookers cringed in sympathy as the pair of women performed a head over heels, flailing cartwheel into the side of a wagon with enough force to be heard above the other surrounding confusion then slid underneath the thing from sheer momentum. Screams, thumps, bangs, and one very solid meaty thud told people the fight was still going until an almost ominous silence fell from that area. Riddler started moving forward to see if either combatant was still even close to functional when movement from his goal stopped him.

Deirdre crawled out from under the wagon, slowly stood up then limping, bleeding, covered in mud and less mentionable things flashed a grin of triumph. She dragged the unconscious form of Bridgette behind her as matter-of-factly as if the other woman was the bundle of filthy laundry she appeared to be. “Now that was very satisfying, someone please tie her up so she won’t try getting into more mischief if she wakes up before all this is over with.”

Someone diffidently offered Deirdre a bucket full of water that the young woman upturned over her head before handing the empty bucket back. “Thanks, but I think it’s going to take more than a few buckets of water to make me presentable right now.”

The Lindsay man at arms who had offered the bucket in the first place nodded as the filthy, but still lovely midnight haired hellion began ineffectually dabbing a relatively clean part of her garments at her face while wrinkling her nose in belated disgust. The soldier shrugged and went back to the well for more water.

“I’d give you a fatherly hug,” Riddler finished tying the ropes he’d bound Bridgette with, wiped his hands as well as he was able and stood to face his child with a wry grin, “But I do have at least mostly clean clothes on here. Are you all right, dear?”

“Yes, daddy, I think so.” Deirdre smirked then grabbed him in a tight, if somewhat squishy, hug before he could get away from her. “That was more fun than I’ve had in a long time, you know.”

“Though I’m certain this has been brought up before,” the thief chuckled as he disengaged himself from his offal caked daughter, “you really should work on your definition of fun.”

“Yes, I have been told that before.” She agreed then turned towards the new commotion at the gates in time to see Garret go down to Roric’s treacherous blow and the entrance of King Cedric. The latter was far from her mind, though as she screamed. “Garret!”

“At least Roric has been subdued.” One of the soldiers commented as the girl sprinted to where her man had fallen.

“Good thing for him.” Riddler nodded sagely before following his daughter at a slightly less frantic pace. “She would rip things the treacherous bastard is quite fond of from his crotch and force feed them to him if he wasn’t already safely restrained.”

“You know,” one of the Lindsay men at arms said to one of Garret’s troops. “with all the trouble that pretty little lady has caused all of us here over the past few days, I could actually see that kind of thing happening.”

*

Cedric watched in almost bemused fascination as a disheveled, filthy form rushed up and cradled Garret’s head in her arms, gently kissing first the man’s forehead, then his cheeks, then his chin then finally pressed her lips to his before pulling back as he gasped, and opened his eyes.

“Oh Garret!” Deirdre looked into his still not quite focused eyes and kissed him again. “You did come for me! I love you sooo much, don’t die on me now!”

“Wha — what did you just say?” He questioned groggily still getting his swimming senses to try and show him something coherent but hoping he’d heard what she said right.

“That I love you, you big lunk.” She answered, kissing him again.

“Ohhhhh.” Garret groaned as he tried to lift his head to respond to her kisses.

“My lord, are you in pain?” A healer questioned at the groan he’d let out while maintaining a careful distance from the very aromatic apparition that was kissing his lord.

“Yes!” Garret answered with a wince as even that pronouncement sent sharp spikes of pain through his head. “Just my luck, isn’t it? She’s finally in the mood. And I have a headache!”

---

 

---

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Bridgette stirred briefly, feeling the weight of the single chain holding her to the wall of the chamber she was being held in. She ached in more places than she cared to think about, but the greatest pain was the one that didn’t show physically.

“I would have been Queen by now if not for that meddlesome little bitch.” She said to herself in a quiet voice still filled with venom. Deirdre would pay for her meddling, in time, though Bridgette wasn’t entirely certain of how that would come about given her present circumstances and rather bleak and probably short future. An execution for treason would be merciful given the visions of the vengeance that raven haired little bitch Deirdre was likely to visit on her.

“If you are quite finished with spewing bile into an empty room,” a half amused voice interrupted her cursing the woman who had been her downfall, “perhaps you would consider the merits of leaving this place before things settle down enough for the victors to get around to meting out the justice they believe you so richly deserve.”

She turned to see a figure clad, literally, in shadows emerge from behind a tapestry then move gently take the wrist confined by the padded manacle and work on the restraint for a moment. The manacle fell off, freeing her, and she gave the person a puzzled look. “A rescue? For a failed agent? Why?”

“Unlike your former conspirator,” the man responded, “you still have value to our mutual employers. They feel that you will still be able to contribute to the cause, but not if you are swinging at the end of a rope. Therefore, I was sent to expedite your — umm — release.”

“I won’t argue with you on that point.” Bridgette nodded, then questioned. “Roric?”

“Dead.”

“No loss, I barely managed to keep the fool from idiocies that went far beyond kidnapping the betrothed of a future king.” She shrugged. “Now, about that ‘release’ you mentioned?”

“Put these on.” The still unidentified man reached into a bag he was carrying and pulled out a collection of ragged servant’s garments then tossed them towards her.

“With you watching?” She grimaced then stopped what would probably have been an acid response with a wave of her hand. “Just don’t enjoy the view, too much while I change.”

If he did enjoy the view, he didn’t comment as she changed into the rough clothing. “So how are you going to get me out of here?”

Mussing her hair, and rubbing ashes from the fireplace into it while putting some into her hand, he answered. “Rub that into your face, then we’ll simply walk out.”
 

*          *          *
 

Deirdre, bathed, seen to by a healer, and dressed in a gown that didn’t quite fit, but was much better than the rags of a nightgown she had still had, or the blood spattered guard’s uniform she’d been wearing, emerged from behind the screen where a very attentive maid had been assisting her. Garret, who had been lounging in a chair in front of a warming fire, shot up, grimaced as the move sent bolts of pain through his still tender head, but moved to embrace his beloved. “I was so afraid for you, love. But given thought, and seeing how you’d managed to pretty well turn this place upside down and shake it,” he went on, while drinking in the warmth and sensation of contentment holding her gave him, “another few days and you would probably have opened the gates and welcomed me and my army in.” “Oh, I doubt that.” Deirdre sighed while enjoying the feeling of completeness and safety being in his arms gave her then grinned. “It would have taken me another week at least.”

“That I doubt.” He answered then winced as she moved her hand across the back of his head. “Damn it, I still have a headache. Just my luck.”

“Let momma make it better.” She whispered as she pulled his head down to meet her waiting lips.”
 

*          *          *
 
“Who’s going to tell her?” Savar questioned the small group gathered at the door of the chambers given to Deirdre.

“We could dice for it.” Hemish offered, not wishing to be the bearer of this bad news any more than his long time companion.

“Oh, for the god’s sake!” Mina shook her head and favored both with a glare that held more than a little fondness in addition to her pique. “You two have been with or around her since Garret chose her at the tournament, and you still dance around her temper like a pair of frightened little girls instead of big strong guardsmen. But, that’s all right. I suppose I’ll tell her if you two don’t have the balls to do it.”

“It isn’t balls I lack, it’s what she might do to them when she finds out." Savar opined. “You know how she gets.”

Hemish added his agreement to that with a vigorous nod then a wince as he imagined crockery, chamber pots, and anything else not securely fastened down flying through the air. And towards his own head.

“Wimps.” Mina chuckled while patting each man on the shoulder. “Fine, I’ll tell her, and I’ll bet you a month’s pay, she won’t start throwing things when she gets the news.”

“You’re on!” Both chorused, thinking she had just taken a sucker bet and gleefully thinking of what they would do with the extra money.

“Since you two have known the lady from the time she was a reluctant damsel,” Mina grinned, “and have been with her through her rather tumultuous acceptance of what she is and what she is destined to be I doubt that she would throw anything damaging at either one of you.”

“With her temper, you never know.” Savar shrugged. “I recall the night she discovered that she really was a woman…”

Hemish nodded in agreement. “And she really has a hate on for Bridgette.”

“Cowards.” Mina regarded both of them with a slow smile before her expression turned deadly serious. “But we have to tell her before the news reaches her from some other source, probably in public.

You can stand behind me if you like.” She smirked again before knocking on the door.
 

*          *          *
 
“How?” Deirdre questioned with dangerous mildness when she heard that Bridgette had escaped.

“No one is all that sure, Lady.” Savar answered carefully. “The chamber she had been imprisoned in was open, her clothing was scattered on the floor, and there were no traces that could be followed.”

“I could find nothing.” Mina added with a frown. “Neither could anyone else.”

“Which means magic was used to get her out.” Deirdre nodded. “With that bitch on the loose, I’ll never feel completely safe. Damn her! And the ones who got her out!”

The gathering, Garrett included, watched with no little trepidation as the petite hellion picked up a vase from a nearby table and glared at the nearby wall while her voice rose in building anger as her arm drew back in preparation for a good throw.

Savar and Hemish both winced and started looking for convenient places for cover while grinning like fools at one another.

But to everyone’s surprise, the tirade stopped in mid-sentence as, with immense effort of will, Deirdre lowered the inoffensive vase while thinking, Smashing the vase would achieve nothing - well, alright, I'd probably feel a bit better, but other than that, it would achieve nothing at all other than making a needless mess.

Her audience stood in silent shock as she returned the vase to the table it had been on. The sharp click as it made slightly more forceful contact than needed and the silence that followed that action was far more worrisome than seeing it shatter into shards of glass against a wall.

“The gods decree, and we mortals deal with whatever they decide. My nemisis is still free to do whatever mischief she is able to manage. All I — we — can do is be prepared for whatever she, or her masters try.” Deirdre said tiredly then sighed and shook her head. “Tantrums would be worse than counter-productive right now with the situation we are facing here.”

“Besides,” she added with a wry little grin. “Even if it would make me feel marginally better, I don’t really think breaking things would give a very good impression to a staff of servants who have already spent far too much time dealing with abusive masters and mistresses.”

“I’m sure they would understand one little vase, Lady…” Savar hopefully offered, then withered under the glare Mina gave him before she rubbed two fingers together with a grin and raised eyebrow that had him finishing quietly. “But I suppose you are right on that.

You have grown, Lady.” Savar spoke into the silence that followed her comment then reddened as he realized he had stepped well beyond the bounds a man-at-arms was allowed in most cases but carried on in spite of that. “I for one am very proud of you and to have the privilege of being one of your personal guardsmen.”

Deirdre regarded him for a few moments before moving forward to hug him tightly. “Thank you for that observation, my friend. I will always treasure the memory of you telling me this.”

“I am — nothing more than a simple soldier, Lady.” Savar protested.

“Oh, no.” Deirdre hugged him tighter and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “You dare be a friend when all convention says that should not be. Thank you, my friend, my good and trusted friend.

Thanks to all of you.” She continued once she’d released a terribly embarrassed Savar. “You have all put up with my strangeness, my tempers, my intransigence, without giving up on me. I will always think of each one of you when circumstances seem to be more overwhelming than I can cope with and pray that I might emulate the way you have all been with me. I love each of you without reservation.”
 

*          *          *
 
“We found Luc.” Cedric gave a heavy sigh as he informed the gathering of that unhappy discovery. “I’m afraid it isn’t good news, though.”

A healer moved forward at the king’s wave and somberly regarded the worthies he was facing for a moment. “Lord Luc is not as he was, nor will he ever be again. He is quite mad, and from all evidence and information given by the servants here, has been so for quite some time, even before Roric began to rule here. The healers and physicians managed to mitigate the sickness for years, but it finally grew too strong and the Duke had to be confined for his, and other’s safety. He has been well cared for, and is physically in as good a shape as would be expected for someone in his condition. Roric chose to quietly have his father cared for instead of making him a public spectacle, and even then was beginning to show signs of the same madness his father suffered.”

“I’m afraid that still does not justify what he has done.” Garret answered quietly. “He should have stepped down himself when it was certain my uncle’s illness was taking him as well.”

“Would the Lady Bridgette have come on the scene around that time?” Deirdre questioned then added. “With his father confined, and the news that he suffered the same malady, Roric would have been ripe for an understanding ear, a woman willing to stay by him, support him, and simply be a source of comfort, I think.”

“Indeed she did, m’lady.” The healer answered.

“I’m not going to say Roric was blameless in all this.” Deirdre said thoughtfully. “But Bridgette’s appearance at just that time was — very convenient, don’t you think? Far too convenient for my liking.”

“You think she was sent here to take advantage of the situation?” Vertigan asked.

“It would seem to fit with everything else we’ve discovered here, wouldn’t it?” The raven haired beauty nodded. “It was fairly common gossip that Bridgette was the true ruler here, and Roric merely followed her lead in most things.”

The chief of Jhalmar’s spies nodded in agreement. “That is the conclusion we have reached as well, Lady. The one paramount question in all this, which will remain unanswered now with her escape, is who is her real master? The person, or people behind all this are still shrouded in shadow, I fear.”

“Then we will need to be on guard all the time.” Garret said with a grim expression on his face mirrored by everyone present. “It would seem someone is working very hard to destablilze Jhalmar. Though this particular plan failed they will not stop until they are rooted out and neutralized.”

“Agreed.” Cedric nodded. “Vertigan, do you have any leads at all on this, even if what you have is tenuous at best?”

“None at the moment.” The spymaster sighed in frustration. “Although several of my agents have found tantalizing traces of a trail that will eventually lead us to something concrete. Unfortunately, all that is going to take time no matter how much any of us wish to finish this all up quickly and cleanly.”

“Understood.” Cedric nodded, knowing from experience that pushing his spymaster to push his agents would produce nothing but confusion, ill will, and no progress beyond what had already been promised. “I’ll leave this in your capable hands, and those of your agents, old friend. Your organization has proven itself more times than I can count already.”

With that, the meeting was finished. All present were aware the one danger was past, but there would be more challenges in the future that they could do nothing about but be prepared for the trouble to come. Then to hopefully stop whatever may come with the same alacrity this last attempt had been met with.
 

*          *          *
 
“Ughh!” Deirdre grimaced as she tossed the vellum sheets listing the potential guest list for her upcoming wedding. “Do we have to invite all these people?”

“Yes, dear.” Jessica chuckled while gathering the sheets and making a neat stack of them on the table before her future sister-in-law. “A royal wedding requires at least every lord, lady, and knight in the kingdom as attendees, along with diplomats, influential merchants, and…”

“Never mind.” The dark haired hellion waved off any more recitation with a glower that would have stopped a charging war horse in mid stride. “I’ve heard it already, but it isn’t really going to be a royal wedding, you know. Garret isn’t the prince or anything.”

“Oh, I’m afraid you’re wrong there.” Jessica smirked at her friend’s discomfiture. His Majesty Cedric is going to publicly confirm Garret as his legal heir later today, along with rearranging some of the nobility so Leslie will have a competent lord. Personally, I think the king is getting more than a bit tired of riding herd on all these rowdy lesser nobles jockeying for the spot and just wants to settle the matter and go home. So that will definitely make Garret Prince of the realm, which makes you…”

“The princess designate, I know, I know.” Deirdre grumped then quietly added. “I think I’ll talk Garret into going to a shrine with me, or a small temple, kidnap a priest or priestess, and have whoever that may be just marry us so it will be over with.”

The blonde haired mage gave her friend an amused, if wary look. “You wouldn’t really do that, would you?”

Propping her chin on one dainty hand, the bride-to-be blew an errant strand of midnight hair out of her face in irritation. “Oh, probably not. Garret would never go along with the idea, even if I think it’s a good one.”

“I seem to recall you also thinking that learning to fire one of those new cannon was a good idea, too. Until you managed to wheedle the arms master into letting you try. We had to burn your clothes, but I do have to admit that with all that gunpowder worked into them, they made a fine fireworks display.” Jessica chuckled.

“Took me two days to get all the powder out of my hair.” The other said quietly then grimaced. “That bag of gunpowder could have burst on anyone using it, but would it? Oh, nooo, it just had to be the one I picked on my first try. Now Garret will never let me try firing one of those things again.”

Mina, who had been observing the conversation with vast amusement joined it. “But you were kind of cute flouncing around in a snit with your pretty face all blackened with gunpowder. Good thing you didn’t flounce into a lighted torch, though.”

“When I need your help in this I’ll ask for it.” Deirdre grumbled, then lost her petulant expression and started to quietly laugh. “But I was sight, wasn’t I?”

“Oh, yes. That you were.” Jessica agreed then joined in her friend’s laughter.

Soon all three of them were cackling like lunatics while the maids, timidly hovering at a relatively safe distance from the uncharacteristically ill tempered bride-to-be gave each other quick glances tinged with relief.
 

*          *          *
 
Cedric, every inch a king even without his court regalia, coolly observed the gathering in Castle Lindsay’s throne room. With a decisive nod he gestured both Garret and Deirdre forward to join him on the dais.

“My lords, My Ladies, and commoners alike, I would normally make an announcement of this magnitude in Jhalmar. Given the unsettled circumstances in the kingdom, especially this Duchy it was decided that I would do it here first, then again once I return to Jhalmar. But make no mistake here, my pronouncement this day is official, and you all would do well to heed it.

Following much soul searching, I and my queen have finally designated an heir to the throne due to the sad lack of our own children.” Cedric set his hand on Garret’s shoulder and held out the other for Deirdre to take. “By this proclamation, Garret Mindovan of Chalmnessa is now my designated heir and officially a Prince of the Realm, entitled to all prerogatives, honors, and duties of that office. Ignore this at your peril, as you have all seen here, treason is dealt with swiftly and decisively.”

There was a soft murmuring in the crowd, but no dissent. Instead, in unison and without hesitation the gathering bowed deeply to Garret in a show of respect.

Gently pulling Deirdre forward a bit more, so she now stood to the front, the king went on. “In recognition of dangers endured, and defeated, along with valued service to the crown, this Lady, my heir’s betrothed, will now hold Lindsay as part of her personal holdings. She will therefore now be known officially as The Lady Deirdre, Duchess of Lindsay, and that title will fall to her heirs, in perpetuity.”

Deirdre swayed slightly, giving Cedric the look a deer gives the hunter when well cornered. Giving her a smile and a sly wink that the gathering couldn’t see, Cedric went on. “Which now settles the lordship of this Duchy. The Lady, however is going to be rather busy with wedding preparations, then being a Princess of the Realm and eventually your Queen. In view of that, I shall appoint a steward to hold and administer this Duchy in her stead.

The gathered nobles gave the midnight haired hellion the same respect they had shown Garret, and many wore hopeful expressions at the news that a steward would be appointed to run the Duchy for her.

Cedric watched the reactions with a thin smile for a few moments as he passed a flabbergasted Deirdre back to Garret. “Lord Chance Mul, come forward.”

The name was unfamiliar to most in the chamber, and everyone was darting glances in all directions to see just who this unknown lord was. Riddler moved easily through the crowd, gave his daughter a ‘What can you do’ look, and mounted the dais. With a sigh, he regarded Cedric, bowed deeply then quietly said. “I always knew you had it in for me, Your Majesty. You still haven’t forgiven me for that privy prank, have you?”

“Actually, I recall that one rather fondly.” Cedric chuckled before returning to his stern, ruling demeanor. “Lord Mul will take over administration of Lindsay with all rights, privileges, and duties of a ruling Duke — with Her Grace, Deirdre’s agreement. Your Grace?”

It took Deirdre a few moments to realize she was being addressed she’d been staring so intently at Riddler. Shaking off the second shock of the day, she smiled, nodded, and held out her hand to Riddler. “Oh, I quite happily accept your choice, Your Majesty. I know you will take good care of my Duchy, Lord Mul. “

“I will be sure to do my humble best, your Grace.” Riddler answered formally then whispered. “But I liked being an anonymous ne’er do well.”

“If I have to be a princess, you can damned well be a Duke, daddy.” Deirdre answered through a rather forced smile that was more a gritting of teeth. “We’ll talk later, my lord. In depth and at great length, I’m sure.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that at all, dear daughter.” He said with a heavy sigh. “Not at all.”

“I trust.” Cedric addressed the gathering. “That all of you will be considerate enough to hold your requests for consultations with either the Prince or Her Grace for several days no matter how urgent you may feel it is. Both need a little time to take care of personal matters and Her Grace is enveloped in wedding details on top of that. To those of you who don’t know her, trust me on this. Don’t get on her bad side. You’ll greatly regret that, for a long time to come if you are that foolish.

“This audience is ended.” He announced then gave Garret and his still gob-smacked bride-to-be a wicked little grin. “That went well, don’t you think?”

Neither one of the pair could come up with an immediate answer beyond nods, probably fortunate in Deirdre’s case since what she was thinking was not something one said to a reigning king and expect to live out the day.
 

*          *          *
 
“Dammit, Garret!” Deidre fumed when they were alone in her chambers. “What have you gotten me into? A year ago I was a simple waif running the streets, and a boy at that! Now, now, I’m a woman, a Duchess, and soon to be a princess! It’s all your fault! I’m not ready for all this, you know.”

“I’m sure you’ll handle all that with the same charm and aplomb you’ve managed to bring to everything else, my love.” Garret answered with a smirk. “You’ll do not just fine, you’ll be wonderful in all those capacities, and make a great Queen on top of that.”

“You,” she frowned, “are treading very thin ice here, my Prince. I may end up being executed for killing the designated heir of the realm if you can’t do better than that.”

“Heavens and gods forbid.” He answered then gathered her into a gentle hug that pressed her up against him and wouldn’t let her go. “That I would be fool enough to anger the next Queen of Jhalmar enough to brain me with a chamber pot. Again.

I love you more than I can say, more than life, more than Chalmnessa, more than Jhalmar.” He quietly said into her ear as he nuzzled her hair. “If I had to give everything up to be with you for the rest of my life, I would joyfully be a homeless beggar on the streets simply to do that. I’m holding a hellion in my arms, fierce in defense of what she loves, deadly at need, hard as diamond when that is called for.

But you are also, loving, caring, and you actually give a damn for the common people and their difficulties, but most of all,” he kissed her neck, running his tongue up and down that slender, ivory column for a moment before whispering, “and most of all, you give all of yourself when you give at all. That is more precious than the finest gems or any amount of gold. When you say something will be done, it gets done and woe to anyone who balks you. Last, and most importantly, I love you, will support you, and know you will be not only a good queen, but a great and much loved one. Stop worrying and just do what you usually do. Make it up as you go along until you get the feel for your new station and duties and never doubt that I will be beside you through all of it.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls, my prince.” Deirdre breathed with a very uncharacteristic giggle. “Now, would the kingdom be scandalized if I dragged you into my bed to have my evil way with you?”

“Well, I don’t have a headache any longer.” He gasped as her small, agile fingers began working his clothing loose. “And anyone who doesn’t like it will have to deal with you. I’ll just mop up what’s left.”

“You really know what to say to a girl, my prince.” She said with a smirk as she shrugged out of her gown, taking his wrists to guide his hands to her breasts while telling him. “Now back all that up if you would. I’ve been a virgin too long as it is. Teach me what it really is to be a woman in love with a man.”

“My pleasure, your grace.” He answered as he lowered her to the bed and began working her undergarments loose.
 

*          *          *
 
Riddler entered the room and bowed. “Your Grace.”

“Lord Chance Mul.” Deirdre greeted him with a bit of ice in her voice. “Exactly when had you planned on telling me you were a lord, Daddy dear?”

“Umm, never if I could have gotten away with it.” He admitted slowly. “My lordship is in name only, my family’s fortune and lands were lost by my father and grandfather’s ill advised investments and gambling. I was a pauper, with nowhere to call home, no prospects for doing better or much in the way of hope for some time. Until His Majesty Cedric, and Vertigan approached me to work for the spymaster. It wasn’t much at the time, but it did give me something productive to do instead of wandering into pure thievery and other less savory occupations.”

“You made a very convincing thief, my lord.” She said with chilly emphasis still on the title. “Another thing, now that you have a confirmed title again AND a place to call home… What do you plan to do about mother, if you’ve thought of that at all.”

“I plan to bring her here, marry her, and give her as much of a comfortable life as I’m able — if she will have me. I love your mother very much, Deirdre, and greatly regretted having nothing to offer or give her other than you and your sister. That you can believe as if the gods themselves had told you. She refused to marry me following her first husband’s death, knowing what I was doing for a real living, and how attachments could prove detrimental to both of us and our children.

That impediment is no longer a factor.” He said with a long sigh. “I know I’ll never be able to make up for my absence when you and Ilene were growing up, but I’ll do everything in my power to be a father to both of you now. If you’ll let me.”

“That is Ilene’s decision regarding you.” Deirdre answered quietly then burst into tears. “But I’ll take you as you are father, and would have done so if you had been nothing but a common thief.”

“I love you, too, daughter.” Riddler, or Lord Mul as he was now to be known, found himself with both arms full of a happily sobbing girl and hugged her to him. “If nothing else works out, we have that, don’t we?”

“Yes, daddy.” She quietly answered against his chest as he held her.
 

*          *          *
 
“This Duchess thing is going to take some getting used to, you know.” Deirdre grumbled while going through a list of petitions for her attention from varied sources in Lindsay.

“You’ll get the hang of it soon enough, I’m sure.” Jessica told her with a grin. “As you have with everything else that has happened to you over the past year or so. “Just don’t bite a petitioner’s head off unless what they’re asking is totally ridiculous and you’ll do fine. Plus, you could send them all to your father since he is the official administrator of the Duchy now.”

“Ahh, revenge, and another suffering soul to keep me company.” Running a hand through her hair, Dierdre muttered. “This is worse than the wedding stuff. But I should at least see a few of these, just to show that I’m interested and care about their concerns.”

“So choose a few and let your father handle the others.” The blonde mage shrugged.

“That’s easier said than done with all this, you know.” Deirdre let out a frustrated sigh while still going through the petitions.

Jessica grinned, sure that her friend and future sister-in-law would make the right choices — for her and the petitioners — and see that justice was done in each case.
 

*          *          *
 

“Your Grace, I don’t really understand your attitude on all this.” Her appointments secretary, a too unctuous courtier and something she was still getting used to having protested. “There are wealthy merchants and lords asking for your attention and you insist on seeing common people to hear their concerns? “This nation is built on the work and sweat of these common people as you so disparagingly call them.” She shot back with a mildness that boded ill for the man. “Do not ever disparage the hard working, common folk to me again or you might just find yourself among them. And I could do that without shedding a tear, do you understand me?” “Yes your Grace.” He answered unhappily. “It will be as you command.” “Good.” She answered sweetly. “Announce and escort the first ones in, would you?”

Lethalis bowed and left her thinking that his job was going to be a hard one to handle, if interesting. The little firebrand who had been confirmed as his Duchess was going to turn more than a few things upside down, shake them, and see what fell out, he was certain. It might actually be fun to watch that he thought with a small smile of anticipation playing with his mouth. It would surely be educational.
 

*          *          *
 
“That was kind of wearing.” Deirdre sat back in the Ducal throne once the last of the petitioners she had chosen to see had gone.

“You did very well, your Grace.” Garret told her with a grin. “Both sides in each dispute can live with your solutions and left feeling as if they came out ahead.”

“You quite obviously have a talent for this kind of thing, your Grace.” Lethalis added with something like admiration in his voice. “I can see that working for you is going to be more than entertaining, with apologies for the presumption.”

“Just learn her quirks and you’ll do fine.” Garret advised the man. “Though that might take some time and you’re allowed a few mistakes as you learn.”

“Plain speaking is what I want from you, Lethalis.” She told him. “Try leading me around any bushes or down any garden paths and you’ll soon see my rather ‘famous’ temper. Be honest with me, even if you disagree with what I’m doing and we’ll get along fine. Most of the time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, your Grace.” Linthalis answered without expression.

“Good man.” Garret clapped him on the shoulder. “I think you’ll do well.”

“I do hope so, my Lord.” Linthalis responded with a wry grin. “I would much rather be on her good side.”

“You’ve learned the first rule of Living with Deirdre and surviving the experience.” Garret laughed.
 

*          *          *
 
“Mother.” Deirdre smiled and actually rushed forward to hug her mom. “I’m so glad to see you again.”

“You’ve been doing things that aren’t all that acceptable for a young lady, young lady.” Leila told her then hugged her daughter tightly. “But you’ve taken the heart of this kingdom and hold it in your hand. So I suppose you’ve done more than just well. I would just ask that you think about things before charging off on your next little adventure. There are many people besides me who would be devastated about losing you.”

“I have to be me, mother, you should know that by now.” The midnight haired beauty answered carefully then hesitantly questioned. “I’m sorry I can’t be the son you had for fifteen years, mother. I neither planned for all this, or wanted it…”

“Hush, daughter.” Leila answered softly. “You are what you are. You’re still my child and I still love you unconditionally. Even if you seem to have a temperament that isn’t quite befitting a lady or your station.”

“I love you so much, mother.” Deirdre answered back.

“I know that dearest.” Leila said into her daughter’s ear. When you were chosen at that tournament, I was shocked, yes, but knew it was your destiny.

And you seem to have done much, much better as a young woman than you ever would have managed as an under developed boy. I’m so happy you’ve found love, and man worthy of you.”

“And what about you and my father?” Deirdre questioned.

“Chance has asked me to marry him.” Leila answered with a little smirk. “I intend to accept, but want him to sweat a bit first.”

“That’s wonderful, mother!” Deirdre hugged her mom tighter then gave her a look filled with mischief. “Now I know where I got my intransigent streak.”

“Like mother, like daughter.” Leila laughed then turned serious again. “What does Ilene think of all this?”

“Oh, she’s busy with her squire at the moment.” Leila chuckled. “She has the same ability you do for charming men. As for knowing who her real father is, she’s known for some time now, and after a bit of shock accepts the fact. She is, in fact, anxious to meet Chance.”

“Probably so she can yell at him for a while.” Deirdre chuckled.

“Oh probably.” Leila laughed. “But then she’ll want daddy’s hug.”

“It’s worth the wait.” Deirdre told her mother.

“I know my dear.” Leila smirked. “Trust me on that one and don’t ask questions.”

“I do hope he’s making up for all those years you went without someone.”

“Oh trust me, he is.” Leila laughed happily.
 

*          *          *
 
“You know,” Ilene told Deirdre with a sigh. “I never really have had the chance to get to know you as my sister.”

“I know.” The little beauty who had been a boy told her sister with a hesitant smile. “So how do you feel about having a sister instead of a brother?”

“Derek or Deirdre.” Ilene grinned. “I love you either way

Although.” Ilene added with a grin, “Deirdre is way more interesting than Derek ever thought of being. So don’t worry, I still love you and won’t stop doing that.”

“Just stay well clear when I get mad at someone.” Deirdre chuckled while hugging her sister.

“Yes, I have heard about that.” Ilene laughed. “You are one little girl that no one sane wants to mess with.”

“What can I say?” Jhalmar’s famous, or infamous ,hellion asked. “I have a temper and the girl hormones just make that worse at times.”

“All part of being a woman, dear sister.” Ilene smirked as she said that. “Now you truly understand why mom and I got so nasty at certain times of the month.”

“Oh yeah.” Deirdre had to laugh with her sister. “Garret steps lightly around me when it’s that time of the month. Come to think of it, so does everyone else.”

“Mom and I know things that can help with that.” Ilene told her. “I’m sure we’ll be sharing them with you.”

“Damn, I’m still learning this girl stuff.”

“We all learn as we go, sister.” Ilene laughed.

“Don’t I know about that .” Shoving a shoal of hair so dark one expected to see stars in it away from her face, Deirdre sighed. “I’m still trying to learn all this stuff.”

“Don’t feel all alone there, sis.” Ilene laughed. “All us girls learn as we go.”
 

*          *          *
 
Leila was revitalized. Her face was unlined and radiant, her hair shone even if the gray in it hadn't disappeared, it was still beautiful. Her bridal gown was simple, an off white sheath that showed off her still lovely figure and complemented her complexion.

“Nervous, sis?” Ilene questioned as they watched their mother being escorted up the aisle by none other than Cedric.

“Yes.” Deirdre whispered back. “I’ve never been a bride’s attendant before and never thought I’d be one.”

“Just stand her looking lovely and feminine — which isn’t hard for you, by the way — recite the lines, and it will go fine, sis.” Ilene advised then added. “Isn’t mother beautiful?”

“Yes she is.” Deirdre answered without reservation. “I’m so happy for her, and for our dad.”

“We all are, sis.” Ilene grinned. “While most of us are thinking it’s about time!”

“You have that right.” Deirdre whispered then added. “So when should I expect to do this for you?”

“After your own wedding.” Ilene chuckled. “Elgil and I have been planning our wedding for months, but we won’t upstage yours.”

“Remind me to knight him for service to the crown.”

“Oh, I will, dearest sister.”
 

*          *          *
 
End of Part 26
 
 
To Be Continued...

“Then we strike while they’re at sea.” The leader of the group announced. “And so throw the succession in Jhalmar into the chaos that suits our plans and will help us achieve our goals. Make sure our ships’ captains understand they are to take no prisoners and to leave nothing but flaming wreckage behind them.”

Deirdre favored Garret with a glare that would have melted steel at thirty paces as her voice went dangerously quiet. “This guest list is impossible! And why is it that poor little me is expected to pen the invitations personally?”

“It’s a traditional personal touch that’s expected in weddings involving nobility.” The Prince answered carefully while making certain there were no chamber pots or throwable items larger than a pen or inkpot within her reach. “Aren’t your mother and sister helping you with this?”

“Ilene,” she quietly answered, “is working on her own wedding invitations and going as nuts as I am with the stuff, Mom is a little busy getting reacquainted with daddy just now, and I wouldn’t interrupt that if the world depended on it. So no. I did dragoon Mina and your sister, but they tend to have other ‘urgent’ matters needing their attention after a while.”

Garret nodded with what he hoped was understanding. He at least understood why the two ladies were finding emergencies in the oddest places. His bride to be was getting more and more cranky as the wedding date neared. A cranky Deirdre was ominously close to an incandescently enraged Deirdre. With a smile he was careful to make cheerful, the knight offered. “I’ll help you with them.”

“And go against tradition?” She gave him that gimlet stare, then grinned evilly and passed over a pile of parchments and a page of the lists she was slowly working her way through. “Don’t answer that, just start writing.”

Garret found a pen and ink pot without commenting and began carefully writing out the wedding invitations.

Bridgette practically stormed into the sanctum of her patron and the man looked up with a thin smile as she flounced to a chair and seated herself without waiting for an invitation. “I see you’ve already heard the latest news from Jhalmar.

Because of that,” he gently told her, “I will overlook you lack of respect this time. Remember that you owe your freedom, and quite probably your miserable life to me and do not make the mistake of thinking yourself too important to punish for your actions.”

“Forgive me, my lord.” Bridgette bowed her head — mostly to hide the fear she knew was showing in her eyes. “I forgot my place here. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” He answered with a sigh of frustration that showed his own pique at the news was no less than hers. “Though I do admit this news is not good for our cause. Not good at all.”

“That lordling Garret elevated to Prince of the Realm and confirmed as heir to the throne is bad enough.” She grated out then her voice started rising. “But knowing that boy bitch is going to marry him and eventually become queen of Jhalmar is unbearable.”

“Indeed it is, my dear.” The man responded quietly. “This Deirdre Mul would make a queen far too strong for our liking, and lend that strength to her man. The brotherhood is still convinced such a thing should not be allowed to happen.”

“The bitch has the gods’ own luck.” Bridgette snarled. “Killing her now will take a lot of effort, more than the considerable amount we have already exerted. That damned fool, Roric! He could have killed her and been done with all this months ago. Nothing I did would convince him to do that.”

“No matter.” He shrugged. “The fool paid for that, and we are not without more resources to see to this matter. Even the gods’ own luck can’t keep saving her all the time.”

“I really want to see her brought down.” Bridgette growled.

“You will, dear lady, you will.” He assured her. “Patience for now, you will have another chance to put an end to your rival.”

“I hope so.” She answered, then realizing the audience was finished, arose from the chair, very carefully curtsied to him, and quietly left the room.

He idly stared at the door she had left through while considering just how much more could be gained from using that particular tool before it too would have to be discarded.

Chance Mul entered his daughter’s office with a slight bow. “You wished to see me, Your Grace?”

“Oh, cut the crap, Daddy.” Deirdre chuckled and waved the man to a chair. “We aren’t in public here and anyone eavesdropping deserves what they get.

How is mother?” She asked while getting out of her plush chair behind the massive desk, selected a carafe of wine and two delicately fluted goblets from the sideboard and poured the golden liquid into each one. Handing the man one and seating herself on the couch across from him, she grinned. “Wearing you out?”

“Let’s just say she glows, I perform to the best of my abilities, and we keep our neighbors awake a lot.” The man she used to know as Riddler chuckled.

“Good for her.” Laughing for a moment, Deirdre sipped at her wine while watching him from over the rim of her goblet. “I should hate you, or at least be angry that you left us alone for so long you know.

But I don’t.” Waving off the beginnings of a response from the man she let out a little sigh. “I know, I know. Mother was married to someone else at first then you were embroiled in Vertigan’s work to help preserve the kingdom. But you could have come back after the man I grew up thinking was my father died.”

“I actually tried to do that, you know.” He answered quietly. “Leila was and still is a strong willed woman, dear. She wouldn’t have anything to do with me for a long time no matter how often I approached her.”

“So she told me some time ago.” Shrugging and dismissing that particular subject she raised her goblet to him. “I wanted to give you your wedding present.”

“A goblet of wine?” He questioned with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes that told where hers came from. “As fine a wine as this is, I think that silver service you and Garret gave us was more than enough.”

“Here.” Passing him a sheet of parchment festooned with official seals, including the royal one of Cedric and Evaine, she waited for his reaction.

“Baron of Kelsan?” He questioned after reading the document.

“It’s a small, but fairly prosperous walled town about thirty miles west of here.” She offered with a slight smile. The lands around it are host to some particularly fine vineyards. We’re enjoying one of their products now.”

“I know where it is, daughter.” He grimaced then allowed a tiny grin to play with the corners of his mouth. “You really haven’t forgiven me for leaving you alone all those years, have you? This is your revenge.”

“If I have to be a princess, and eventually queen,” she mock glowered at him, “I may as well spread the agony around to those I love, right Lord Protector of Lindsay, or would you prefer Baron Kelsan?”

Clinking his goblet to hers in a wordless toast with a rueful smile, he answered. “You are an evil woman, you know that?”

“I’ve been practicing.” She agreed while her blue eyes flashed with amusement.

“It shows, dearest daughter, it shows.”

“Just how serious are you and Anthalas becoming?” Deirdre asked her maid/bodyguard once she had Mina cornered and was reasonably sure the one time assassin had no chance of escape.

“We are getting perilously close to where you and Garret are at the present time.” Mina smiled. “Whether that will continue is anyone’s guess but both of us intend to enjoy the relationship to its fullest until one or the other of us decides to end it.”

“Well, then.” Deirdre grinned. “I suppose I’ll have to look around for a candidate for court mage of Lindsay won’t I? It sounds, and appears that you two won’t separate any longer than absolutely necessary, and I still need you nearby given the still unsettled political conditions surrounding us.”

“Anthalas is willing to take the oath of fealty to you, Your Grace.” Mina answered. “If we must be separate, at least I know he’ll be serving the same person I am. Which means we will be able to see one another often enough. Once he gets that teleport spell perfected. The things he’s found in that workshop where you obtained your ‘back scratcher’ are nothing short of mind boggling even if they are fragmentary. I think dragging him away from that will be near impossible at the moment.”

“Jessica is just a bad with all that.” Deirdre nodded with a chuckle. “Mages and their toys, what can you do?”

“Endure their babbling and muttering, remind them to eat and sleep once in a while, and keep on loving them, I suppose.” Mina said with a fond laugh.

“Hello, Glory.” Deirdre greeted the spirited mare that had been given to her in what seemed to be a distant past though it was only a few months. The mare nickered, pushed her nose into Deirdre and gave the young woman’s hand a hopeful look.

“Greedy guts.” The young woman chuckled as she offered one of the sweets the mare was so fond of. “Here, and I missed you, too.”

“Girls and their horses.” Savar grinned while watching the mare happily chew the sweet her mistress had given her. “And to think we introduced those two, Hemish.”

“Not exactly high romance.” The other guardsman grinned, “But what would simple soldiers like you and me know about things like that? I’m just glad the Lady, err, Her Grace, has a mount worthy of her.”

“I’m sure Glory is glad she has a mistress worthy of her.” Savar laughed. “She would let no one ride her until our Deirdre came along, and will allow no one else to do so now. Headstrong and intransigent like her mistress.”

“Careful, she’ll hear us.” Hemish cautioned.

“Which one?” Savar smirked. “Not that it would matter, that mare is just as smart as most people.”

“And either one’s poor regard would bode ill for just about anyone approaching them.” Hemish agreed with a snorted laugh.

“Are you happy to see the last of Lindsay for now?” Garret questioned as he rode easily beside Deirdre.

“Well, the place does give me mixed feelings just now, even if being there was exciting and reunited me with my real father,” the midnight haired beauty sighed, “but it is my Duchy and people I love are now watching over it. I do admit that it will be good to see Serai and Jhalmar again though.”

“I’ll take that as a qualified maybe, then.” The Prince laughed.

“You always were too damned smart for my own good, you know that?” She grinned as her attendant maids, with the exception of Mina showed their horror at her unlady-like language.

“You’re upsetting most of your ladies in waiting.” He pointed out.

“They’ll get used to me,” She grinned evilly, “or go screaming into the night to get away from the ‘crazy lady’ they’re sworn to serve.

Oh, don’t look so worried, darling.” She laughed. “I’ll take care of them as if they were my own family, you know that. If they can’t deal with my — umm —quirks, I’ll let them go with good recommendations to anyone they wish to apply to for a similar postion.”

“I know that, my love.” Garret reached over to pat her arm. “I just wonder if they’ve figured it out yet.”

“Give the poor dears time, love.” Deirdre said as winked at him then stuck out her tongue in a most unladylike expression. “None of them are stupid, or unobservant. They wouldn’t be in my service if it were otherwise. They’ll get the idea soon enough.”

“More innocents corrupted.” Garret sighed theatrically.

“It’s your fault, you know.” Deirdre shook her loose mane of sable hair as she laughed. “If you hadn’t chosen me at that tourney…”

“I knew from the moment I saw you that you were the one I was meant to be with for the rest of my life, dear, dearest lady.”

“Damned gods, prophecies, and their meddling.” Deirdre muttered then gave the man a sunny smile. “But I’ll give them this much, they were right. You’d better be planning to spend the rest of your life with me. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone.”

“That sentiment is mutual, my love.” Garret answered.

I noted we took the long way around.” Deirdre teased as she and Garret shared a simple meal at the end of the day.

“Rock Trolls have long memories, and the time to recover from their hangovers is a thing of legend.” The newly crowned prince shrugged. I do believe I’ll be assiduously avoiding that pass for the rest of my life, I assure you.”

“Unless you take more fortified wine with you.” She pointed out.

“No, I’ll take a pass on that one, thanks.” He answered while holding up a carafe of wine. “From your father’s vineyards, would you like a bit more?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?” She gave him a narrow eyed stare.

“Yes.”

“Oh, good, I was hoping that was your nefarious plan, sirrah. In that case, certainly, I’ll enjoy more of that wonderful vintage.”

“Stop trying to look innocent, dear.” Garret grinned. “It just doesn’t work for you any longer.”

“Girl’s gotta try, you know.” She purred while climbing onto his lap and very carefully probing one of his ears with her tongue.

“Try all you like, my darling.” Garret gasped as her explorations went lower and really aroused parts of his anatomy. “Perhaps we should take this to the bed chamber?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Deirdre spared a mischief filled glance up into his face before diving into or onto the treasure she’d unearthed. “And where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Umm, wellll,” Garret moaned. “Never mind.”

“Home.” Garret gave a happy little sigh as they looked down the slope to where Serai nestled among its sheltering hills, gathered round the city like protective lovers. “It’s good to be here again.”

“How do you think your brother is taking the news that he is now the defacto heir to The Jewel of Jhalmar?” Deirdre questioned. “He seemed quite content to be in the background when I met him.”

“Oh Brent will come around.” Garret shrugged. “He had his heart set on becoming Chalmnessa’s spy master, but being Duke will give him the ability to do that without interference, so I think He’ll accept things as they are gracefully, then go somewhere private and whoop for the sheer joy at his luck.”

“Is your family considered normal?” Deirdre questioned with narrowed eyes.

“Completely so, my love.” Garret assured her.

Her snort of disbelief was lost in the fanfare of the escort sent to lead them into the city.

“They will go by sea from Chalmness to Jhalmar.” One of the gathered people pointed out. “Aboard ship they will be more vulnerable than once they have made landfall and gain a royal escort.”

“The cannon Jhalmar’s warships now mount would make taking them at sea a formidable challenge.” Another hissed. “One of their ships so armed routed a squadron of Cardassia’s elite the last time that was attempted.”

“I have no argument with that,” another answered, “but think here. That victory will make them complacent, they would not expect another such attack, especially from several squadrons armed with these new cannon as well. They will not be ready for such an attack, and we will be able to throw the nation into chaos again with the designated heir and his bride to be out of the picture.”

“I don’t like risking our only cannon equipped ships on this venture.” The first one answered. “If this doesn’t work we lose the core of the navy we are planning to rule the seas around Jhalmar’s ports with and that would be disastrous for our long range planning.”

“No risk, no gain.” The proponent of the attack shot back. “We can afford to take the chance. None know who we are, or where we are based. We can build ships, and equip them in relative peace for now. I say we take the chance while it is offered.”

The consensus agreed.

“Then we strike while they’re at sea.” The leader of the group announced. “And so throw the succession in Jhalmar into the chaos that suits our plans and will help us achieve our goals. Make sure our ships’ captains understand they are to take no prisoners and to leave nothing but flaming wreckage behind them.”

“Another sea voyage, oh joy.” Deirdre gave the waiting vessels a wary looking over. “Are we going to be on the big one? And why are there three ships when it’s just us and family going and we all comfortably fit into the big one?”

“To answer the last question first,” Garret soothed his almost pouting bride-to-be, “I’m now a Prince of the Realm and the designated heir to the throne, which makes you — my intended — a defacto Princess of the Realm and its future queen. The pair of ships for our escort are just a precaution to keep us safe and make sure we arrive in Jhalmar in one piece.

Secondly, yes, we’ll be on the big one, she’s newly built and just finished her shakedown and sea trials with flying colors. I think you’ll like her name, by the way. Also you do have those potions Jessica gave you, right? The ones to cure seasickness?”

“Of course I do, you big dolt.” Deirdre answered with a little smirk and sigh. “I’ve already taken one for your information. I do NOT want to go through what I did the last time. It was really messy, smelly, and no fun at all. Besides, I don’t want you teasing me about being sick again. I’m pretty sure that even a princess could get in trouble for braining a prince.”

“Probably a little, especially since you have more options than a chamber pot these days.” Garret acknowledged with a grin of his own.

“Oh yeesss.” The little hellion he’d fallen so deeply in love with smiled beatifically while stroking the mace she refused to part with and the long, carefully tied shut leather bag containing her prized backscratcher — the goblin claw. “But I still think I should get some real armor that actually fits me, you know.”

“I’m considering that.” Garret said with an internal shudder. Given the kinds of trouble his future wife had a knack for getting into, and out of, real armor for her didn’t seem to be such a terrible idea. Except for the worrisome fact that presenting her with some would likely have her actually looking for the trouble instead of simply trying to avoid it.

“Well, while you’re considering, maybe someone else will present me with some as a wedding present.” She mused with amusement sparkling in her eyes. “Then you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of our lives ‘considering’ the matter.”

“I haven’t said no.” He defended himself and managing to appear a bit hurt by her observation.

“You haven’t said yes, either.” Deirdre said while turning her face into the breeze coming off the harbor. “Ahh, that feels good.”

As they drew closer to the ship they would be taking to Jhalmar, Deirdre finally read the name across her stern and stopped in mixed embarrassment and surprise. “The Princess Deirdre?”

“An early wedding present from their Majesties Cedric and Evaine.” Garret answered with a grin. “I understand she’s nearly as rambunctious and full of surprises as her namesake.”

“A ship named for me?” Deirdre was still in a bit of shock. “But I’m not a princess.”

“As far as anyone in the know is concerned you are.” Garret answered quietly while giving her a hug. “You’ve earned it, too, if the opinions of those who really know you count.”

“One thing I’ve learned, or had beaten into my stubborn skull,” Deirdre sighed, “is that those opinions tend to shape who and what I am whether I’m willing to go along or not, so I won’t argue the point here on the docks.

But we will be having an in depth discussion once we can be in private.” She promised. “Believe that.”

“I’d expected nothing less, my love.”

“Ahh, we may as well get aboard.” Deirdre shook her head as she said that. “I think half the crew is waiting for us to do that.”

“So they are.” Garret grinned. “Come on then, I’ll escort you up the gangplank.”

“Please.” She gave him a wicked little smirk. “I’m already embarrassed enough without falling into the harbor while trying to board a ship named after me.”

“Welcome aboard the Princess Deirdre, your highnesses.” Jared Wolfe greeted the pair with a low bow and rose from that with a grin. “I hope you approve of her, and will come to think of her as your home on the high seas whenever you require her services.”

“Captain Wolfe.” Deirdre smiled and moved forward to give the man a hug. “I know that’s against protocol, but it’s good to see you again, are you in command of this ship?”

“Indeed I am, your highness.” The man gave her a happy and proud grin. “And the entire crew of Christina make up the core of the crew aboard the Princess. They are all thrilled that you’re back with us, by the way.”

“I’m touched, and honored beyond words.” She quietly answered while giving the assembled crewmen a fond smile. “Thank you all for the welcome.”

The assembled crewmen knelt, and murmurs of “Welcome aboard Princess”, “The honor is ours, dear Lady” and other heartfelt greetings almost had Deirdre in tears.

“Okay, enough of the ceremony.” She wiped her eyes and motioned for everyone to stand up. “I’m still, me. That intransigent little hellion who much prefers to have friends than subjects and I do consider all of you to be among my friends. Once we leave port I expect all of you to use my name, not some title, understood?”

As the assembly rose, the new members a bit stunned by that, Garret pulled her close and whispered. “And that my love is why the common people adore you. You are going to not only be a good queen, but a great one, I’m sure of it.”

* * * *

“Princess is what is called a frigate.” Jared told her as they followed him on a tour of the vessel. “She is somewhat larger than a normal frigate, and has a few surprises besides being very heavily armed. Since our opposition has started mounting cannon on their vessels the geniuses at the shipyards at Jhalmar decided a highly maneuverable, fast gun platform was required to counter that. Princess Deirdre is the first of those, and her sea trials have shown that she is all that was hoped for.”

Running a hand over a new, and vastly improved cannon, Deirdre couldn’t suppress a grin. “just how many guns does Princess carry?”

“Forty-four.” Jared answered proudly. “And with the new rifling techniques, her guns are more accurate, and send shot with more force than the old cannon could manage. If someone, anyone, wishes to test her, I’m absolutely sure they’ll be in for a most unpleasant surprise.”

“Are the new guns mounted in the escorting ships?” Deirdre questioned.

“Yes, though so far these three are the only ones mounting them.” Jared answered then shrugged. “Making them takes about twice the time as the old ones, but the factories are working day and night to produce more. Princess had priority on getting them.”

“Just what is this rifling that you’ve mentioned?” Garret questioned.

“Well, the full details are a bit overwhelming.” Jared sighed. “But it seems that putting spiraling grooves in the barrel of the gun increases both their accuracy and the velocity they attain once fired. Though I think the extra velocity is because the steel guns are stronger than the old iron and bronze ones and are able to handle a stronger charge of powder. Either way, these new cannon are a huge advance on what we already had.”

“All in a few years.” Deirdre marveled. “Harald has really been busy, hasn’t he?”

“That he has, dear lady.” Jared answered then frowned. “But no matter how careful we are news, and worse, plans for making the old cannon reached our potential enemies. I just hope they won’t get the specs on the new guns for a while yet.”

“We can hope.” Deirdre answered thoughtfully.

“Maybe we need to be attacked again so you can get over this.” Garret teased a green around the gills Deirdre.

“Making fun of a sick person isn’t nice.” The young woman pouted, then lunged for the bucket she kept close by then raised her head in relief. “False alarm. This is a good sized ship, why does it pitch and jerk so much?”

“You need to take more of Jessica’s potients.” The prince told his lady. “They do help, and according to Captain Jared, Princess is built with a deep keel, but a fairly narrow cross section, especially the parts that are underwater. It makes her both faster and more maneuverable, thus she’s more sensitive to the vagaries of wind and water.”

“Oh.” Deirdre grumbled. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll get used it, probably just before we dock at Jhalmar, but I’ll get through this.”

“Some fresh air might help.” Garret offered.

“So I can watch the horizon pitch and sway in a way no solid land loving, sane person would find natural or even comfortable?”

“You’re getting used to it, darling.” He soothed. “You haven’t thrown up since dawn and it’s nearly midday now. That’s a good sign.”

Deirdre ignored that, sitting at the vanity that was provided in her cabin and brushing her hair while critically searching for any unfortunate signs of her sea sickness on the dress she was wearing. Satisfied, she arose and turned to Garret with a small grimace. “Fresh air. All right, I’ll try it, but if I throw up, I’m aiming it at you.”

“Better now?” Garret solicitously questioned as Deirdre watched things over the rail she was standing against — just in case she needed to throw up without warning.

“Yes, actually.” She admitted with a real smile. “The sunshine and breeze feel good, and I’ll finally admit that Princess is a beautiful ship.”

“That she is, your Grace.” Jared entered the conversation as he moved to join the lovers at the rail. “No one has ever seen anything like her. Like you, your Grace, she is unique.”

“I hope she is a bit less intransigent than I tend to be.” Deirdre replied with a grin for the captain.

“Oh, she handles like a dream, your Grace.” Jared answered with a proud smile. “She’s as fast or faster than a schooner when the wind is right, and tacks with an ease that is almost supernatural at times. She is a beauty, just like her namesake.”

“Do I detect some flattery there?” The midnight haired young woman questioned with a teasing grin.

“Neither you or Princess requires flattery, your Grace.” Jared answered simply. “You are both things of beauty and quite deadly when the need arises.”

“Garret, I like this man.” Deirdre laughed.

“Now that you’re feeling better.” Garret said with a smile. “I have a present for you, my dear.”

“Oh?”

Come to my cabin and I’ll give it to you.” He answered.

“We’ve done that already.” She whispered into his ear with a giggle that wasn’t like the Deirdre everyone else knew at all. “But I’m willing to go get it.”

“Oh, we could do that, too.” Garret answered blandly then lifted his eyebrows. “But this is a real gift. Call it an early wedding present from my family.”

* * * *

“Oh, Garret!” Deirdre sighed in near ecstasy when she saw what was laid out on the bed in the prince’s chambers. “It’s beautiful!”

She was gushing over glittering chain mail laid out for inspection. Garret shrugged. “Well, as often as you get into trouble, the family thought this would be a good thing to give you. It’s hardened steel, and so finely linked that it should fit like silk once you have it on Plus you could wear it under your usual clothing and it wouldn’t show.”

“Isn’t that leather under armor a bit thin?” She questioned while giving the whole setup a critical, but happy looking over.

“Cured griffin hide.” Garret told her. “It will cushion blows as if it was two inches of real leather. I told you my family loves you.”

“Can I try it on?”

“It’s yours.” Garret answered with a grin. “So that would be a yes.”

She did strip to try them on, but that was delayed for a while when she pulled Garret onto the bed.

* * * *

“So what do you think?” Deirdre did a spin and the armor she wore caught the sunlight through the port hole and scintillated with an array of reflections.

“It’s you.” Garret told her with a grin. “And being fitted as it is…”

“If my enemies stop for a moment because of my beauty.” She said with no modesty at all. “I have them.”

“That you do, my love.”

* * * *

“Sails ho!” The lookout sang out. “I make at least six ships bearing on us!”

“Oh, not again.” Deirdre grumbled. “And of course, I took my armor off after trying it on!”

“I don’t suppose I could get away with locking you safely away in your stateroom?” Garret questioned.

“I’d break the door down, after putting on my new armor and you know that.” She answered with a smirk while holding up her Goblin claw. “This could do it, too.”

“I knew it was a bad idea to give you that armor.” Garret sighed.

“With or without it, I would be up here to join in the fight.” Braiding her long midnight tresses, Deirdre grinned at him and fondly patted him on the shoulder. “You know how I am about a good fight.”

“That’s a constant worry, you know.” He answered.

“I love you, too.” She told him then stuck a pink tongue out at him.

* * * *

“We have two escorts.” Deirdre observed as the ships moving to intercept them came closer. “Three ships against, what, twelve?”

“Obviously, someone doesn’t want us to reach Jhalmar.” Garret told her.

“We have a few nasty surprises for the misbegotten bastards.” Jared assured her. “They’ve never run up against a ship like Princess. Plus our escorts are equipped with the new cannon.”

“This is going to be messy.” Deirdre observed.

* * * *

“I wish you’d go below, your Grace.” Jared told Deirdre as the crew manned their battle stations. “It is going to get very dangerous up here in a short while and I don’t want you to be injured, or worse.”

“You’re the captain.” She answered while staring out at the twelve unidentified ships moving into attack formation. “You could order me to do that.”

“Would you even listen if I did?” The man questioned with a slight grin in spite of the worry in his eyes.

“Oh, for a few minutes, anyway.” She shrugged. “But we’re under of attack because I’m here, I’m sure of that. I wouldn’t be able to stay cooped up ‘safely’ below or in my cabin knowing I’ve put everyone else at risk.”

“We don’t know that this is because of you.” Jared returned equably. “Massed pirates have been known to attack smaller formations of ships.”

“Do you believe these are simply pirates?” She pointedly questioned. “I would find it to be a strange coincidence in the extreme if those ships were simply pirates given what has happened so far. Someone wants me dead and doesn’t care who suffers in achieving that.”

“As I suspect, as well.” The captain nodded. “Just don’t get tangled up with the crew, your Grace and I’ll accept that for now. But if things get bad, I will order you to whatever safety I can find for you, understood?”

“Completely.” Deirdre nodded in her turn then gave the oncoming ships a grim look. “I’ll get out of your way, now. You have enough to do without trying to coddle me.”

“We’re going to have to break that formation.” He nodded in Acknowledgement to her and went on. “Signals! Have Christina and Herald break off to threaten their flanks without getting too far away that we can’t cover them! Helm! Come about to port! Gunnery! Fire as you bear on their leading elements!

The range we have with these new guns should be an unpleasant surprise for those bastards.” He muttered as the vessels under his command moved to obey his orders then bellowed out another. “Stern gunners! Ready the stern pivot! Look lively all and be ready on the sheets!”

Several of the lateen rigged ‘pirates’ moved off each flank of the attacking formation to engage the schooners moving to threaten their flanks. Jared nodded in satisfaction. “Two from each flank, Christina and Herald will handle them well enough and that leaves only eight for us.”

Twenty-two big guns roared as Princess’ broadside came to bear on the enemy formation. The fire was concentrated on the three leading ships and the accuracy of the fire was nothing short of awe inspiring as masts collapsed, railings splintered, and gun mounts were shattered from the concentrated fire.

“Reload and fire at will!” Jared bellowed through the noise and smoke. Helm! Hold your bearing! Back scratchers fire when they reach your range!”

“Back scratchers?” Deirdre questioned as she heard that command.

“Smaller cannon, mounted on a swivel with less range than the bigger guns but extremely deadly in close quarters, just as you seem to be.” Garret told her then added. “They are named for your already famous Goblin Claw, my love.”

“Oh.” She actually blushed. “First a whole ship named for me then weapons named after a weapon I’ve made use of. This is embarrassing, Garret.”

“But appropriate.” He responded while watching the forming battle.

“Good point.” She grinned then shouted. “Back scratchers! Make me proud! Make these bastards regret trying us at all!”

“That’s my girl.” Garret chuckled.

* * * *

Christina arrogantly slid between her two opponents and broadsided both as she slid through the gap between them. The chaos aboard both ships showed that chain shot had been used in the initial broadsides. Return fire did some damage, but the speed the sloop had attained kept that to a minimum.

Herald performed an identical maneuver with much the same results.

The lead elements of the remaining eight faltered under the second withering blast from Princess’ broadside with the fire from the back scratchers added to the chaos. The five undamaged ships remaining swung around their wounded compatriots to reach gun range of Princess.

“Stand ready at that stern pivot!” Jared shouted as the remaining undamaged enemies began to close and fired their own cannon.

Deirdre hunched down as railings splintered and sails were holed by the shots fired at Princess. The cries of wounded were drowned out by the thunder of guns returning fire.

Instead of getting in the way, she moved to start helping the wounded as more splinters flew through the air around her.

“Drop the aft and mid topsl’s!” Jared bellowed into the din.

Crewmen nimbly scampered up the rigging despite the incoming fire and the two sails furled.

Four of the opposing ships gained a position of advantage. Two of them across the bow and two across the stern, effectively crossing Princess’ T and having a firing position that would rake the entire deck from front to back with fire.

“Drop stern pivot!” Jared roared as the crewmen at the stern let go of lines allowing a heavy, broad at the bottom part that had been hanging off the stern to fall into the water.

With the wind on the forward top sail, and the flattened stern pivot in the water, Princess stopped moving forward and astoundingly spun in place on her stern presenting unexpected broadsides to the attacking ships. The gunners needed no orders. They fired once the attacking ships came to bear.

With predictable results. The better guns Princess mounted along with the smaller back scratchers and crossbows a few of her crew were armed with raked the enemy ships with a withering fire.

Three of the attackers almost disintegrated under that concentrated fire, and the other was damaged so badly that all it could do was drift. But the damaged lead elements had reached the battle again and grappling hooks dug into the railings along Princess’ thwarts.

“Prepare to repel boarders!” Jared roared into the din and waved a group of heavily armed crewmen to surround both Garret and Dierdre. Guard their highnesses with your lives! If they’re taken or killed all we’ve done so far will be for nothing, win the battle or not!”

The ‘pirate’ boarders were driven by desperation. Their own ships were starting to founder and were taking even more horrendous damage from the smaller guns with the wider arc of fire mounted on the rails of the frigate.

“Told you this one was going to get messy.” Deirdre grimaced while pulling out her goblin claw. “What now, my love?”

“Much as it galls me,” he shouted over the tumultuously violent sounds of battle around them, “we need to allow these good men to protect us. We only fight if the pirates get past our defenders!”

“Then I’ll keep helping with the wounded.” She shouted back while ripping pieces of her skirt into lengths to use as bandages. “I knew I should have kept that armor on!”

“For once, I agree with you on that score.” Garret answered as he took a position to watch over her while the determined contingent of grim faced sailors watched over them both.

* * * *

Christina finished off her opponents with some vicious fighting against a last ditch boarding attempt from the pair of sloops attacking her. Trailing one mast and using badly holed sails in spite of her blood drenched decks, she turned to aid Princess.

Herald was aflame and sinking, but she had taken her two antagonists with her. The flaming trio of ships slowly settled into the water as crew from all three, enmity forgotten in the need to survive, went overboard to avoid the fire.

* * * *

It was over. The attacking force had been routed and the surviving ‘pirates’ in the boarding parties had either surrendered or thrown themselves over the side in a hopeless attempt to escape.

The quiet, filled with eye stinging smoke and the cries of the wounded, was nearly as deafening as the battle had been.

Deirdre was still working on the wounded as Jared shouted. “Stand by to pick up survivors! Move the wounded to sick bay!”

“Sick bay is overflowing.” A weary physician answered, dazed but still doing his job with admirable skill.

“Use my cabin.” Deirdre told him then held up a hand to stop the protest he was making before it really got started. “Don’t argue, my cabin is easily accessible to the main deck, and has more than enough room. Use my clothing for bandages, and my bunk and table for surgeries you need to do.”

“Your Grace!” The man still tried to protest.

“Don’t argue with me, man!” She shot back with more force than most had seen her use before. “These men need care, and my cabin is the best place to do that right now.”

“As you say, your Grace.” The man nodded and decisively directed those beginning to move the wounded. “Take them to her Grace’s cabin and make use of whatever you find for bandages or anything else you require.”

“Do it!” She commanded as a few of the men hesitated.

* * * *

“Your caring for the wounded made this crew love you more than they already did.” Garret told a tired Deirdre once they had finally settled themselves in his cabin.

“I was useless in that fight.” She sighed while running a hand across her blood spattered face with a sigh. “The least I could do was help with the people who got hurt because I was aboard.”

“There’s a splinter hanging off your dress.” Garret observed then plucked it out.

“The boys and men fighting for me didn’t have the advantage of a swarm of men to protect them.” The midnight haired beauty was crying. “Some of them are going to lose arms or legs and there was nothing I could do to stop that!”

“They knew what they were getting into when they signed on to the navy.” Garret answered then softened that with a quiet. “But you being there binding wounds and just talking with them made a big difference with the men who were still fighting, you know.”

“That sick bay, and my cabin were abattoirs!” She shouted back. “It was like being in a gods damned butcher shop! Only the things being butchered were men and boys!”

“And most of them will live, my darling.” Garret answered while pulling her into a tight hug that wouldn’t allow her to pull away. “They will always remember that they were defending their future queen, and that will mean a lot to them.”

“It doesn’t change what they’ve lost.” She cried, then relaxed into his arms while dropping her voice to a mournful whisper. “I never wanted this, or asked for it. Why are good men willing to die for me?”

“Because you care about them, my love.” Garret replied, hugging her tighter. “And you inspire them.”

“To stupidly put themselves in harm’s way for someone who never even knew them personally.”

“For an image, and love.”

“I could do without that, you know.”

“My love, you’re going to be a queen. People will put themselves in danger simply to protect you. There is nothing either of us can do to change that.” Garret softly told her.

“But it hurts so much to know that, and seeing them do it.” She laid her head against his shoulder and he felt the wetness of her tears.

“That, my love,” he spoke softly into her ear, “is why the people love you so much already.”

Alis, the King and Queen’s personal healer examined Deirdre with a slight smile on her face while watching other disrobe. “You have changed a lot, Your Grace, since I last examined you.”

“True enough.” Deirdre agreed with a hint of resignation in her voice, but suddenly smiled. “But it has put me together with my soulmate, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain, should I?”

---

“Home.” Deirdre watched the sprawl of Jhalmar appear out of the mist as Princess entered the harbor. “It’s so good to see this again, Garret. It feels as if I’ve been gone for years instead of a few months.”

“A lot has happened since we left.” Her intended and love answered quietly as he gathered her into his arms. “You aren’t the same person who left this city, and neither am I.”

She snuggled and pressed her side against his. “I know, but so much has happened, so many things have changed. Is this still home? Or have I lost that with all the other losses and the gains? Oh, by the way, the gains are wonderful, but is this city still home for me?”

“We’ll see once we dock, my love.”

“I don’t want the people’s adoration, Garret.” She answered quietly. “I just want to feel like I’ve come home. Is that so much to ask?”

“No darling, it isn’t.” He answered slowly. “But neither one of us is going to avoid the adoration of the people here. I’m the prince and you’re the princess, and you have already captured the hearts and imaginations of the people with your — umm — exploits.”

“Well, things happen.” She smirked then turned serious again. “I wish I was just an unremarked street urchin again, though. Anonymity isn’t such a bad thing you know.”

“I never had that luxury.” Garret told her. “And now, neither do you, love. But this is still home for you if you want it to be.”

“I may be a Duchess now, with lands and a noble father who not only claims me, but loves me, my mother, and sister.” She sighed while watching the dock grow closer. “But this is HOME, Garret. I grew up in this city, in her streets, alleys, dives, bazaars, and everything else. I just hope it still feels like home once I’m standing on her streets again.”

“I’m sure it will, dear one.” Garret reassured her. “You’ve changed, and probably your perceptions of things have, too. But home is home. I feel the same way about Chalmnessa. Things like that we never lose even if everything around us appears to change.”

“Yes.” She nodded moving closer into his arms. “This is where it all started, everything that has pushed, pulled, and chased me into what I am now.”

“So, do I hear regrets in that?”

“No.” Snuggling even closer, if that could be accomplished, she let out a shuddering sigh. “It’s just that at times, even now -- especially now, I feel like some scared little girl playing at something she was never meant to become at all.”

“First.” Gently turning her to face him and tilting her chin so she was looking up at him. “Though you are small in stature, there is now, and never has been anything either little or scared about you, dearest.

Second.” Placing a finger softly against her mouth to stop the burgeoning protest, he went on. “You are not now, nor ever have been playing at anything. You are doing, and quite well, I might add. You were born to be a queen, my love, and that shows in every motion, every expression on your face, every gesture and all that you’ve done since that first day I chose you in the arena.”

“But…”

“Hush.” He quietly told her. “You’ve won the hearts of more people in a few months than most people manage to do in a long life, and those hearts, along with the people around them, not only love you, they would follow you into anything.”

“And die for their trouble.” She spat back while eyeing the recent repairs to the ship around them.

“No, love.” He answered fiercely while turning her to look at the crew working on docking the vessel. “Never say that again. Some people die regardless of circumstances and that is a terrible fact of life that everyone has to face some time or another. Instead of blaming yourself for deaths you could do nothing about, think of those you’ve saved. Your father, Anthalas — both quite literally, your mother from a loneliness she never really admitted to feeling, the people of Lindsay from a bad lord and a scheming, traitorous lady. And lastly, me.”

A few sniffles, and a soft sob later, she let out a long breath and nodded. “I suppose you’re right, Garret. I need to stop sniveling like a child and get on with the business of living, but I’ll never forget the others, the ones I didn’t save.”

“I’m not asking you to do that, dear.” He told her. “If you did you’d be less than you already are and so much potential would be lost. Have I told you how much I love you recently?”

“Not for at least an hour.” She smirked and pulled his face down for a long, slow kiss.

The couple noted that crewmen and officers were studiously watching things in other directions than towards them once they came up for air.

“Oh, I think we may have embarrassed a few people here.” Deirdre chuckled.

“Actually,” Garret grinned, “I believe I detect some barely hidden smiles there.”

“Your Highness, Your Grace.” Captain Wolfe formally bowed to both of them as Garret and Deirdre prepared to disembark from Princess Deirdre. “It has once again been my honor to serve and convey you safely to your destination. My crew wishes to pass along their own good wishes to both of you and their thanks, especially to you, your Grace.”

“Me?” Deirdre smiled uncertainly. “I didn’t really do much on this voyage other than stand around. Once I got over being sea sick again, that is.”

"Really, Your Grace?" Captain Wolfe disagreed with a smile. "You gave us courage, kindness and compassion when we needed it most." He paused as he came to a solemn decision. "We are your men, call and we 'will' come."

Followed by resounding cheers from the vessel she was leaving, Deirdre walked down the gangway on Garret’s arm, straight backed, head held high, and unashamed of the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“This wedding stuff is getting to be kind of a pain, you know. Ouch!” Deirdre observed grumpily then jumped as a pin wielded by Katrina jabbed into her bottom before settling a gimlet stare on the seamstress. “I hadn’t meant literally, you know.”

“If you don’t hold still,” Katrina responded without withering the slightest under her former apprentice’s glare, “You’re going to be covered in little scabs from needle wounds on your wedding night. Wouldn’t Garret love that?”

“Oh, he’d be rolling on the floor and I’d never hear the end of it.” The newly confirmed Duchess of Lindsay grumbled then chuckled. “I’d have to hit him with a chamber pot or something, and I think hitting a prince is something that could get me in trouble.”

“You’ll be a princess by then, dear.” Katrina pointed out. “And married to the man, so if he dared laugh at you on your wedding night, anything he got as a result would be considered justified.”

“There is that.” Deirdre nodded then yelled in surprised pain again. “You knew I was moving that time and still stuck me!”

“Discipline, dear, discipline. A princess should be regal and composed at all times.” Katrina chuckled evilly. “And don’t be such a wimp, a few needle pricks for the finest wedding gown seen in centuries is a small price to pay.”

“I think if I’d stayed your apprentice for long, things would have gotten really interesting.” Deirdre told the seamstress.

“Oh, I’m sure they would have, dear.” Katrina answered without expression then grinned. “Even as a boy you had a temper, and I even saw it off and on.”

“I can’t help being what I am.” The raven tressed beauty who had once thought she was a boy, grumped. “Garret says I’m almost constantly in the woman’s killing frenzy, whatever that is.”

“Just something men don’t understand, dear,” Katrina laughed, “So they tend to tread very softly when we are glowering at innocent flower pots and things like that.”

“I noticed that.” Deirdre answered then actually giggled. “When I’m that way, Garret either dances around anything I’m mad about, or just goes hunting.”

“You have yourself a very smart man there, dear.” Katrina smirked. “Don’t lose him.”

“Oh, I went to way too much trouble to catch him.” The Duchess of Lindsay laughed. “I’m definitely NOT going to chase him off just before our wedding. Besides, he already knows all my little quirks. Damn, I’m going to need to figure out a few more just to keep him off balance.”

“That’s my girl.” Katrina approved.

“You are so beautiful!” Ilene breathed as she watched Deirdre get out of the bath.

“I’m still me, little sister.” Deirdre grinned.

“But you aren’t my big brother any longer.” The other young woman, who mirrored Deirdre’s beauty sadly answered.

“I don’t think I ever was, really.” Deirdre hugged her sister. “I never was that masculine at the best of times, you know that. But no matter, I haven’t left you and I never will.”

“I know, but you’ve changed so much.”

“Ilene, no one is more surprised, or shocked at the changes I’ve gone through recently than I am, but you’re still my little sister and I love you as much as I ever did. That will never change.”

“But…”

“Come here.” Deirdre pulled her sister to stand in front of mirror and made her stand there with her new sister standing beside her. “Now tell me truthfully. Which one of those girls is more beautiful?”

Ilene, also freshly out of the bath, actually compared the two images in the mirror. “I don’t know. But you were my…”

“Brother.” Deirdre answered softly while giving the younger girl a hug. “I know. But I’m never going to be your brother again, and no matter how beautiful I am now — uncomfortable as that for me is at times — you are my equal.”

They nearly looked like twins in the mirror, and the slightly taller one tightened her hug on the smaller one. “You are a real and rare beauty, little sister. Never let anyone tell you differently.”

“We look like mother.” Ilene observed.

“Embarrassing as that was for me earlier,” Deirdre nodded, “I am proud of that now. Our mother was and is again, a very beautiful woman. Even better, she is now legally married to our real father.”

“She’s a Baroness, now.” Ilene marveled. “And you are a Duchess, soon to be a real Princess and eventually a queen. How can I possibly equal that?”

“You don’t have to try.” Deirdre whispered while hugging her sister tightly. “You are nobly born, have a wonderful marriage in the future, and are simply you with a man who dearly loves you. Do you need anything else, dear sister?”

“No.” Ilene answered with a smile. “I don’t think I do.”

“By the way.” Deirdre smirked. “I hate your bridesmaids dresses.”

“Then get even when you get married.” Ilene smirked.

“Hearing that, no one would ever doubt that we’re related, dear sister.” Deirdre laughed.

“How many more of these do we have to do?” Deirdre grumbled while fussing with her skirts before Garret led her into the entry hall of yet another noble’s home. “I swear, if I ever see another piece of eel wrapped in sweet dough, I’ll throw up then scream.”

“People want to see their future Queen and King.” Garret shrugged as he gave her a grin that showed weariness equal to hers.

“Especially since that future Queen is such a ‘colorful’ individual.” The dark haired hellion smirked then sighed.

“True.” Garret chuckled. “Just don’t threaten anyone with dismemberment by dull desert spoon tonight. That was a bit embarrassing.”

“Only because I also offered to do it to the oaf right there for everyone else’s edification and entertainment.” Deirdre laughed in response. “Besides, that idiot deserved worse. I’m surprised you didn’t call him out for groping me like that.”

“It’s politely called being too familiar, dear.” Garret blandly answered then grinned. “Though your solution for stopping it was more or less unique. I didn’t need to ‘call him out. I think it took the healers an hour to reattach the poor man’s nose to his face.”

“You’re exaggerating again.” She glared at him. “I only cut him a little.”

“With a — how did you put it? Oh, yes. A spoon so dull that it wouldn’t frighten an overripe melon.”

“But I’ll bet he never grabs another lady in that particular part of her anatomy.”

“Probably not.” Garret agreed.

Their presence was announced and the soon-to-be royal couple girded themselves to enter yet another ball held in their honor.

Leila watched her newest daughter primping in front of a mirror and smiled with a little sigh. “Are you happy as you are now, dear?”

“You’d better believe it.” Deirdre answered while moving a stray lock of her midnight hair back where it belonged. “I have someone I love more than life itself, and he returns that to me in kind. Becoming as I am also got you and father back together, so no matter how much I may have protested in the beginning of all this, that alone would be worth all of what I’ve gone through.”

“For that I thank you and will be doing so for the rest of my life.” Leila answered truthfully then pressed on with her questions. “But do you regret not growing into a man at all?”

“I’ll always wonder ‘what if’ when I think about that.” The younger woman answered slowly. “But truth be told here, I wouldn’t ever have been much of a man and you know that as well as I do. Why else would you have consented to apprenticing me with Katrina?”

‘I was only trying to find you a place where you would fit.” Leila answered with a little sigh. “As thing were going you would have wound up in some kind of very unsavory circumstances no matter what you tried doing. So, yes, I always knew you weren’t meant to be a male, but what else could I do?”

“Nothing Mother.” Deirdre moved to hug the older woman and clung to that hug for a while. “Events have proven that you did the right thing for me. So no regrets from you or me on that, all right?”

“You have proven to be a quite remarkable young woman.” Leila nodded while holding her new daughter in gentle arms. “You are what, all of sixteen now?”

“Some people grow up faster than others.” Deirdre shrugged but didn’t let go of the hug she still maintained with her mother. “I turned out to be one of those through events that simply forced me to do so.”

Leila carefully disengaged the hug, stood back and really looked at her daughter. “You have done that, dear one. You are already a quite formidable young woman and will make a magnificent queen when your time to do that arrives. I’m so proud of you, my very beautiful and willful daughter.”

“What more could a child ask of her parent?” Deirdre asked softly with a brilliant smile for her mother.

“Unconditional love?”

“You always gave me that, and don’t try to deny it.”

“Though I considered beating you senseless at times, yes I did. Son, daughter, or something between, you are my child and I will always love you.”

“That,” The girl/woman nodded with another smile, “is all anyone could ever ask of a parent and I return that love without reservation.”

“If this isn’t good news, Lenthalis,” Deirdre mildly told her secretary, “I’ll just kill you now and advertise for a replacement later.”

The functionary had gotten used to his lady over time and only smirked at that while he bowed, careful not to let her see his amusement. “Oh, it isn’t bad news, your Grace. I have the accountings from Lindsay for you.”

“And?”

“Given the rather mild taxes you insisted on imposing to offset the ruinous ones that had been in place, the people adore you, and you are still what could be indelicately called filthy rich already.”

“Oh?”

“Production has increased in manufacturies, and smaller businesses,” the secretary told her, and the production from livestock has tried to contest the gods for heights it is reaching.”

“Interesting.” Deirdre nodded with the implicit command for the man to go on.

“Even with the minimal, and very lenient taxes you demand, Your Grace,” the man grinned, “Your personal revenues, even after upkeep on the castle, roads, etc. surpass anything Lindsay has produced for a ruler in living memory.”

“Ahh.” She smiled. “It is an old saying I grew up with, Lenthalis. Give a man, or woman the means to make a better life for themselves and their children and they will provide for more than simply their family.”

“Indeed, Your Grace.” The man agreed. “You and your father are already much loved rulers in your duchy.”

“Ruling is a responsibility, my friend.” Deirdre let out a sigh. “Not a privilege. Abuse your power and you lose, no matter how powerful you may think you are.”

“As you have already amply shown in your treatment of your subjects, Your Grace.” He agreed.

“Do you like working for me, Lenthalis?” She questioned.

“I have never experienced an employer, lord, or lady, who is more fair and caring than you are, Your Grace.” The man answered then added. “I will admit that serving someone who actually exercises wisdom and compassion in their decisions is a pleasure.”

“Thank you, Lenthalis.” She smiled then waved to a table already laden with correspondence. “Just put the report there with the rest of the stuff, and I’ll go through it once things settle a bit more.”

“Very good, Your Grace.” The man bowed and did as instructed. “Will there be anything else you require of me just now?”

“No, take some time for yourself now.” She told him then put a stern look on her pretty face. “That is an order from your Duchess.”

“With pleasure, Your Grace.” He answered then added. “But if there is need, have someone find me and I will be here immediately.”

“I seem to be getting that from a lot of people lately.” She laughed while waving him out of the room. “Go. Have some fun, relax for a while. I’m sure things won’t fall apart before tomorrow morning simply because you are taking a break.”

The man gave her a respectful and heartfelt bow before he left the room.

“This new type ship the Jhalmarans possess is quite devastating in combat.” One of those gathered at the table told the others. “It and two sloops destroyed the majority of our existent fleet even if one of the sloops was sunk. This alone has set our timetable back by months, possibly years.”

“I do not accept excuses for failure.” Their leader reminded the man, enjoyed how he paled then eased things a bit. “But you’re right. The Princess Deirdre is a most formidable warship and our attack at sea was ill advised. But without the blueprints or reports on performance for the vessel we had no way of knowing just how capable that ship really is in combat. Now that we are aware of that, measures can be taken for next time. It seems that Vertigan has increased the vigilance of his people recently and getting more information on her is most difficult.”

“But we still failed.” Another put in quietly.

“A setback is all.” The leader shrugged.

“Enough of those and you may find yourself in an unenviable position.” Another put in. “We cannot afford a leader who fails constantly at one of the more important tasks we have right now.”

“We have learned from those failures.” The leader didn’t appear to be discomfited by that all. “And have another option open to us now.”

“Strike at them before the wedding?” One questioned. “How can we manage such a thing with the pair safely in Jhalmar now?”

“I arranged for a team of capable assassins to be placed in the palace itself in the guise of servants newly hired to meet the influx of nobles and other people of importance the upcoming nuptials are bound to bring. But no, I wasn’t thinking of trying to strike at them immediately.”

“Then when do you propose to have these people of yours strike?”

“The wedding.” Their leader calmly told the group. “Or shortly thereafter, when the happy couple will be too busy with each other to note the danger before it is too late.”

“You propose to strike during a royal wedding?” Another questioned incredulously. “That is insanity!”

“Perhaps.” The man at the head of the table nodded without changing expression for a moment then showed the others a predatory grin. “But think of this. Doing this at such a time, if successful, would gain us much more than simply the deaths of those two. The King, Queen, and many others important to the well being of the present regime would also become potential targets. We could dismember the Jhalmaran government in one strike.”

The others couldn’t argue with that logic at all. One, however did have another question. “Just how many people do you have in place for this?”

“More than enough. Was the answer. “All trained specifically in stealth, disguise, and striking from the shadows when the time is right. Even better all of them are so dedicated to our cause that dying for it doesn’t bother them at all.”

Alis, the King and Queen’s personal healer examined Deirdre with a slight smile on her face while watching other disrobe. “You have changed a lot, Your Grace, since I last examined you.”

“True enough.” Deirdre agreed with a hint of resignation in her voice, but suddenly smiled. “But it has put me together with my soulmate, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain, should I?”

“Indeed not, Your Grace.” The healer smiled back. “There is also the little fact that as the midnight haired little hellion you’ve become you’ve won over a great many people, common and noble alike. Not to mention that one day you will be queen, something most who know you, or of you, believe to be a wonderful thing for Jhalmar.”

“Please don’t embarrass me like that.” The Dark haired ‘hellion’ responded with a hesitant smile. “I’ve only done what seems right at the time things came up. There is nothing special about that, is there?”

“Just keep thinking that way, my dear.” Alis answered with a broad smile. “Now, what is your specific complaint?”

“I’m ill in the mornings, and tend to throw up a lot when things that never used to bother me are around. Like the smell of fresh fish sends my stomach into convolutions I never thought I’d feel.”

“I See,” the healer actually smiled wider, “and are there other — difficulties you’ve experienced recently?”

“I’m crankier than usual, and before you say anything, I know that’s saying a lot for me.” Deirdre chuckled. “Even the people closest to me are more than a bit cautious about upsetting me right now, and I don’t think the wedding plans are the whole cause.”

Thought of a ‘crankier than usual’ Deirdre caused the healer’s smile to falter a moment but it reappeared as she gently pressed on the Duchess’ belly and examined her breasts. At the girl’s slight flinch at the last Alis questioned almost conversationally. “Are your breasts a bit tender these days?”

“Yes the girl admitted then winced at that thought. “Even the finest linens feel like sandpaper up against them these days and they ache constantly.

“Well, I could run a few tests, but I think I already know what your problem is and it’s really nothing to worry about, trust me.”

“Nothing to worry about?” Deirdre nearly shouted, then blushed while bringing the volume of her voice down. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just this.” Alis answered smugly while gently patting the other’s tummy. “You aren’t going through anything other mothers haven’t in the past.”

“Other mothers?”

“Yes, my dear.” Alis chuckled at the totally shocked expression on her patient’s face before finishing. “You’re pregnant, Your Grace.”

Deirdre paled, and nearly fell back onto the padded bench she had been seated on a moment before. “Pregnant? Me?”

“I have to believe so, given what you’ve told me and what I’ve observed today.” The healer nodded. “You my dear lady are definitely ‘With Child’, or ‘In the Family Way’, or whatever terms are also used to describe this condition.”

“Oh. My.” Deirdre put both hands gently on her stomach and gave the healer an almost lost look. “I don’t believe… No I believe it, but I have absolutely no idea of what I should do now, or how to deal with this.”

“No girl does when she first becomes a mother.” Alis soothed. “There are a great many who have experienced this around here to help you through it and I’m certain none of them will stint with either advice or assistance. I only ask that you check with me before trying any of the more outrageous suggestions you will be offered.”

“A mother.” Deirdre shook her head slowly, an expression of awe slowly dawning on her lovely face. “I’m going to be a mother.”

“Yes you are, dear, so you marrying your prince so soon is a good thing, don’t you think?”

“Oh, yes.” Deirdre nodded absently still stroking her still flat stomach.

“I’ll give you some things to help with the morning sickness and mood swings.” Alis told her. “They will make life a bit more bearable for both you and those around you.”

“Yes, please do that.” The dark haired mother-to-be began getting dressed, though she still appeared to be in something of a daze. “I need all the help I can get with this one.”

A preoccupied Deirdre, muttering something about pickles, was escorted back to her chambers and she sent a messenger to find Garret and ask him to come to her as soon as possible.

Garret rushed into Deirdre’s chambers without waiting to be announced, pushing past her personal secretary and several maids in his haste to reach her. Once there he found her calmly sitting on a couch eating a pickle redolent of garlic and other spices and evidently quite calm. “You don’t seem to be in trouble.”

“Trouble?” His midnight haired love looked up at up him with an innocent expression that failed because her blue eyes were flashing with emotions. “Why did you think there was trouble here?”

“Your messenger seemed to have the idea that your need for me was urgent.” He answered with a sigh of relief at seeing nothing broken and no blood on the carpet. “So what is the problem?”

“Sit down, dear.” She patted the couch next to her. “I have some news you should hear.”

Vertigan looked at the body and asked. “Did this one suicide, too?”

“Yes, my lord.” His lieutenant answered with an unhappy shrug.

“This is what? Twelve now?” Jhalmar’s spy master questioned then waved the answer away and sniffed as the odor clinging to the body told him where this young man had been hiding himself in plain sight. “This one was in the stables?

There have to be more of them here.” Vertigan sighed. “I’ll have the guard on their Majesties, his Highness, and her Grace unobtrusively doubled and all of them on alert. We’ve found twelve who are obviously assassins once we have them so there are most likely more in the castle. We can’t take chances. It will cause problems but round up anyone looking the least bit suspicious or seems to be out of place here. Just do it quietly. And tell those gods be damned mages that we aren’t paying them so lucratively to drink the wine, eat the food, and ignore the incoming temporary help. If they aren’t up to the job we’ll find some who are.”

“As you say, my lord.” The young sergeant bowed while barely hiding his grin of anticipation. Would it be permissible to threaten with the Princess’s future sister-in-law?”

“Mention whoever you like.” Vertigan nodded with a lift of eyebrows that hinted at some humor in the man who anyone knowing the workings of Jhalmaran covert politics respected, feared, or both. “Use your imagination boy just make it plausible enough to make them more careful.”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something, my lord.” The sergeant suppressed another grin before leaving his employer’s office.

“Now that one has more than a little promise.” The spy master finally allowed himself to grin.

“You’re…” Garret poured a hefty dollop of wine into a waiting cup and downed it in a gulp.

“Yes.” Deirdre nodded while giving him an uncharacteristic hesitant little smile.

“You’re absolute sure of this?” He set down the cup and favored her with an expectant expression.

“I’ve had three different healers look at me recently, Garret.” Was her answer as she shrugged. “Believe me, I’m as shocked as you appear to be, but things like this happen. Besides, I know I don’t have to lie to you to get your love or to marry me, so yes, love. I’m sure.”

Garret let out a whoop that rivaled his battle cry then swept his future bride up in tight hug and nearly spun around with her before giving her a concerned look and carefully setting her back to the floor.

“You of all people,” she grinned, “should know I won’t break that easily, dear.”

He grabbed her again spun them both around and let another joyful yell.

The whoops along with happy feminine squeals reached the office just to the side of Deirdre’s chambers.

Lenthalis glanced up from his work, nearly let a smile escape his usually serious expression and conversationally told his guest. “I gather her Grace has given the Prince the news.”

“I would think that’s true.” Baron Chance Mul nodded with a grin.

Lenthalis grinned as he poured generous amounts of rich golden wine into a pair of simple pewter mugs then passed one to Lord Mul. “So how do you feel about being a grandfather?”

“Not nearly so nervous as I was about being a father.” The former thief shrugged before sipping appreciatively at the wine. “I’m actually rather looking forward to having a grandchild to spoil.”

“And if the child has it’s mother’s temperament?” Lenthalis questioned with a chuckle.

“Ahh, that’s the beauty of grandchildren from all I hear.” Mul grinned almost evilly. “I’ll still spoil the child mercilessly then send it home for my daughter, her husband and whatever nurse/governess they manage to keep to handle.”

“I always knew you had a mean streak in you, old friend.” The secretary let out a short laugh.

“Indeed I do, my friend.” Mul’s expression went from light to a deadly serious look that had been the last thing many of his enemies had ever seen. “Which brings me to the real reason for this so far pleasant visit.”

“Yes, the sudden influx of strangers in and around the palace, many of whom are requesting audiences with your daughter.” Lenthalis let out a troubled sigh of his own. I understand, my lord.”

“Normally I wouldn’t worry about this.” The baron nodded. “People have been trying to kill my dear Deirdre since before I got reacquainted with her, mostly with results that could best be described as rather spectacular failures, I’m happy to say.

I trust you to keep your own eyes, ears, and senses open, even though her own bodyguard is exemplary, but still, a father worries.” Taking another, longer drink of his wine the baron favored his long time friend with a contemplative expression. “And you know which eyes and ears I am talking about. We both have more contacts with ‘unsavory’ elements who enable us to be aware of possible threats even Vertigan and his redoubtable operatives might be missing. I am using mine.”

“As I am.” Lenthalis answered soberly. “Never fear that.

“Besides.” He grinned. “This is the best honest work I’ve ever had, I would hate to see my employer killed before I can become completely honest.”

“You’re honesty was never in doubt you double dealing snake.” Mul laughed. “Just your methods at times.”

“Pot, Kettle.” The other shrugged.

“True, true, and I make not the slightest protest about it.” Mul laughed too, but turned deadly serious again as he finished. “Just keep your considerable skills and bountiful friendships in dark corners working to keep my daughter alive. That ‘s all I ask.”

“Even if I didn’t like her grace,” Lenthalis answered simply. “I would do that simply to make sure you didn’t come after me.”

“I’m glad we still understand each other so well.” Mul chuckled. “Now about those accounts…”

“Ohh, move back, won’t you?” Deirdre irritably waved a hovering maid away while she continued wiping Garret’s shirt with a damp cloth. “I’m sooo sorry, dear. I really didn’t mean to do that.”

“I’ll just consider this a carrying through of your shipboard threat and in future remember that you don’t do all that well with sudden pitching around.” Garret sighed then chuckled. “At least now, I’m sure that you’re eating.”

“I suppose that’s true enough.” She grimaced and shook her head. “No, this shirt is a complete loss.

Esmeralda.” She turned to address another of the maids in the room. “Please go fetch the Prince a clean shirt.”

“At once, your Grace.” The girl curtsied and hurried out of the room without another word.”

“I think she was relieved to get away for a few moments.” Garret observed with a grin.

“Not at all, Esmeralda is quite used to me by now.” Deirdre smirked. “No, she was only overjoyed at the chance to be the first to tell her friends that the Duchess of Lindsay just threw up all over the crown prince.”

“Steady, my love.” Garret whispered to Deirdre as the priest droned on about the sacred nature of marriage and its importance in the continuation of too many things, both obscure and blatantly obvious. “I see steam leaking out of those shell-like ears of yours and it wouldn’t do to brain or skewer the high priest simply because he took the ‘honor’ of instructing us in our duty to each other and everything else in creation.”

Wearing the patient expression that anyone with even a bit of experience with her knew meant a storm was about to burst upon them while seeming to respectfully listen to all the cleric said she returned the whisper when that worthy turned in search of another volume holding some undoubtedly obscure anecdote or homily to plague then with. “We already know what we’re doing, why we’re doing it, and our obligations to each other and the entire damned world. Sitting through this is just a bit much, dear.”

That last word was hissed out through gritted teeth and Garret sighed while tightening his grip on his beloved’s hand — just in case. “Patience, darling, he’s nearly finished. Then we can get to the real rehearsal.”

“Just how much trouble would I get into for braining both the high priest and crown prince all in one fell swoop?” She mused while flashing a sweet, innocent appearing smile.

“Let’s not find out, please.” He winked. “I know all too well that your ‘braining’ is highly effective not to mention more than a bit painful when one wakes up. Ahh, see, he’s putting his books away now.”

“About time.” She grumbled under her breath.

“And now, my children.” The elderly high priest, fortunately totally oblivious to just how perilously close he had been to mayhem gave the happy couple a benevolent smile. “Let us proceed to the chapel.”

“With pleasure, your Grace.” Deirdre gave him her most charming smile as Garret helped her stand. Mainly because he still retained a firm grip on her delicate hand.

“Our thanks for taking the time to speak with us, your Grace.” The crown prince gave his wife-to-be a subtle warning look then led her out of the chamber to follow the old man into another ordeal he had been dreading more than combat.

“Overall, that went quite well, I thought.” Mina grinned as the wedding party began filtering out of the chapel and towards the waiting feast to celebrate a successful dry run of the next day’s nuptials. “Even if Melinda thinks you deliberately tripped her, your Grace.”

“I did NOT deliberately trip one of my personal bodyguards.” Deirdre indignantly countered then gave the small group a looking over with eyes that sparkled with mischief. “But if she prods me with the hilt of her sword one more time, I could consider that as an option.”

‘I’ll pass along your apologies for the accident, my lady.” Mina shook her head and grinned.

“Please do that for me, Mina.” Deirdre grimaced and shrugged. “And just remind her that I have several really valid reasons for being a bit cranky and jumpy at the moment. I’ll personally apologize once things settle down some, I promise.”

“What’s this?” Chance Mul grinned at his wife, then at his daughter. “The already legendary Hellion of Jhalmar is actually going to apologize to someone? Where is my daughter and what have you done with her, imposter?”

“Father, you know full well I am capable of making amends when I’m in the wrong.” Deirdre sniffed with a regal lift of her chin then gave a little moue of despair. “I’m just not in the proper frame of mind for apologies at the moment.”

“Is her sister going to be like this for her wedding?” Mul idly questioned Leila.

“Let’s get through this one first, love.” Deirdre’s mother answered while patting her husband’s cheek gently. “We’ll worry about Ilene’s after this one, all right?”

Bridget spared one hate filled glance at her nemesis before hurriedly leaving the feasting chamber as the wedding party entered. Her disguise was excellent, but she wouldn’t put it past the little raven haired bitch’s luck to expose her if she remained to savor the coming end of her enemies before the fact.

Instead she would carefully make her rounds like the dutiful maid she was disguised as, disgusting as that was and make certain that all the assassins were ready. She hoped Vertigan’s people hadn’t managed to round up any more of those, the ones remaining were going to be spread thin as it was.

Even more troubling was that some of the men and women sent to finish off any hope for a dynastic stability in Jhalmar had simply vanished as if they’d never existed.

But by tomorrow night, that worry would be gone, along with that raven haired pretender, her overblown lover, and with luck, a large part of the truly effective nobility of Jhalmar.

Bridget, formerly of Velcum, now of nowhere, and known traitor, smiled in anticipation.

“These,” the young sergeant, who’s name Vertigan remembered was Roldi, gestured to the gruesome collection spilled on the floor, “were left early this morning with this note.”

Jhalmar’s spymaster ignored the severed heads, both male and female he had noted, and examined the note that had come with them. “Hidden how?”

“In a case addressed to ‘Jhalmar’s spies’ the young man flushed at forgetting to have told his leader that bit and passed the label, plain, coarse cloth like the missive was written on, to Vertigan. “Gave some of the new recruits quite a start, I can tell you.”

“I would imagine so.” The spymaster shook his head. “It appears that we are getting assistance from part of our citizenry who prefer to remain anonymous. These weapons also arrived with the package?”

Roldi gingerly picked up one of the small, but efficient appearing crossbows and laid it on his leader’s desk. “Yes, and careful with those points, they’re covered in a particularly virulent poison. We lost Credas because he was careless with one.”

“Well now we finally know that our suspicions were accurate, and even the method that we’re expected to believe will be used to kill her Grace, His Highness, and probably more people.”

“Expected to believe, my lord?”

“Oh, I trust this information well enough, I recognize the scrawl the note was done in.” Vertigan let out a sigh. “I just find it difficult to believe that such cumbersome methods will be all that is aimed at our charges tomorrow. Although these go well enough with the small darts we’ve recovered from others this past week.

Come along lad.” Vertigan moved towards the door leading from his office into the hallway instead of the one to his operations center. “We have some people to talk with and we need to start right now. Bring one each of those things along.”

Sergeant Roldi gathered one of the tiny crossbows, a carefully cleaned bolt, thought for a moment and decided walking through the palace corridors carrying a severed head might not be the best thing to do and left those where they were. “I’m right behind you, my lord.”

The pair stalked through the pre-wedding celebrations like two grim shadows.

Other shadows gathered, waiting for the coming day.

“Oh, you are soo beautiful, my dear.” Leila gave her newest, and eldest daughter a teary eyed look. “Katrina, you did wonderful work on the gown.”

“Deirdre admired herself in the full length mirror and let out a small sigh. “Mother, I never quite envisioned myself as the blushing bride at my wedding. Life is strange, isn’t it?”

“You can say that one again, with feeling.” Katrina laughed as she made a few final adjustments to the bridal gown. “And all through your younger years I worried that you’d end up a catamite at some brothel in a place no one has ever heard of. I’d say that you’ve done considerably better for yourself than that and I am so happy for you.”

“I’d say my sister has done much better that simply ‘considerably’, Katrina.” Ilene added. “Wow, I never thought I’d be related to one of the most beloved women in the Kingdom!”

“Nice of you to say that, sister dear.” Deirdre smiled and shook her head. “I have yet to really earn that adoration, though.”

“As Father, our REAL father, tends to say when someone is avoiding things… bull shit, big sister.” Ilene laughed. “You have a real, seagoing ship named after you, have been in more battles than some soldiers can boast, and take care of your own no matter how humble their standing. Trust me, I know because I still live in the town. The people adore you big sister, the military would die to a man for you, and even guilds that shall go unnamed here and are usually ambivalent towards nobility love you. How many monarchs you’ve ever read about have had all that going for them?”

“None.” Mina stepped into the conversation. “Which brings up an unpleasant subject for such a happy day and I am sorry to have to broach it at all. But there are still people out there, who will very likely be attending the wedding, who would like nothing better than see our dear friend and well loved relative die at the altar. She is going to be queen, and already carries a potential heir in her delicate little tummy. Be aware, and if shouting starts, get down, get behind something solid, and wait for the professionals to handle things.”

Everyone sobered at that until Deirdre chuckled and patted a long bag that had been covered in white satin to match her gown before saying. “Come on all of you. Do you know what my ‘something old’ is?”

At their blank looks, she opened the bag and carefully withdrew her Goblin Claw with a smirk. “Think this would qualify for that one?”

Everyone, including her maids simply nodded without saying a word.

“Good choice, my friend and liege.” Mina broke the silence.

The soon to be bride laughed at the dour expressions her bridesmaids were wearing. “Oh come on. I survived the dungeons of Leslie when I started out almost buck naked. All of you know this dress fits nicely over my armor. If trouble does start, just drop, roll, and get behind something nice and heavy.”

“I think I’ll pass on that last suggestion, your Grace.” Mina grinned.

“Of course you would.” Deirdre gave her lady in waiting/deadly assassin bodyguard a smirk. “I would have been very disappointed otherwise. But the rest of you take my advice if things go bad. This may not be the most tranquil wedding Jhalmar has ever seen.”

Leila took Deirdre into a tight hug and whispered. “Daughter, do you know that you are one very scary person?”

“You know,” Deirdre answered while returning the hug, “you aren’t the first person to tell me that?”

“How does that feel?” Alomar asked as Garret flexed and moved in the wedding suit expressly designed to hide the fact he was wearing armor under it.

“Not bad.” Garret answered while still moving to check his mobility. “Warm, but I’ve been far more uncomfortable at social gatherings.”

“If that’s because you were working to keep your lovely, delicate, and demure wife-to-be from gutting someone with a dull spoon, I could understand that.” The knight answered with a chuckle.

“Don’t make jokes about that.” Garret told him. “Since that infamous spoon incident I’ve been constantly wishing there was some form of tableware that couldn’t be lethal in the right hands.”

Everyone in the room laughed at that.

Deirdre flicked her skirt, making the petticoats beneath rustle and grimaced. “I didn’t need armor underneath all this. It would take a cannon to penetrate the fabric.”

“Best err on the side of safety, your Grace.” Mina smirked.

“I know, I know.” The future queen muttered. “But with all this stuff I’m wearing it will be three days before we can officially consummate the marriage.”

“Oh, I’m sure both you and Garret are inventive enough to shorten that span considerably.” Mina laughed.

“Remind me to have you flogged.” Careful not to muss her intricately coiffed hair, Deirdre glared at Mina then added with grin. “Once I live long enough to have grandchildren.”

“I’ll make a note of that, your Grace.” The former assassin chuckled.

Attentively standing behind the altar and performing the duties of the maid she was masquerading as, Bridget couldn’t contain her smile. Those around her simply thought she was happy to be an important part of helping the wedding happen.

The surviving assassins were in place and ready, despite their losses to Vertigan’s people and that still unknown third player. They had found it necessary to close the distance originally worked out for the attack, but still, there were more than enough of them to do what had been planned. Bridget had delivered their weapons under the guise of offering refreshment to the throng awaiting a wedding that no one in history would ever forget.

“Remember this.” The one who always remained in shadows told his followers. “This future princess and queen is the daughter of one of our own. The Guard, and likely enough of Vertigan’s people won’t differentiate between you and the assassins, but never forget this. We have protected her Grace up to now, and we aren’t about to stop doing that because the official guardians don’t recognize us as friends.”

The gathered shadows answered their leader with a quiet chorus of agreement.

Their sergeant, young as he was commanded respect from the contingent of agents watching the back entrance. “Also, again, be aware that we have allies in this we don’t know. If you see someone taking an assassin down, assist them then leave them alone. Just make very certain that you allow the right people to go without interference.”

Garret checked the very workmanlike dagger before sliding it into the sheath at his side. “Not bad work on the flashy stuff for the hilt.”

He’d found the ornamentation slid easily off the real, leather bound hilt before even agreeing to take the weapon with him. His sword was also thinly disguised as a ceremonial weapon. “Good work all.”

“And what is her Grace carrying for a weapon, your highness?” One of the armorers questioned with concern.

“You don’t want to know, trust me.” Garret chuckled. “Only trust that is the most effective close in weapon she, or just about anyone else could possess.”

“Ahh, well that covers ‘the something old’ tradition. The chief weapons master nodded with a grin. “I shudder to think what she is using for something blue.”

“Likely her language if anyone dares try to interrupt this wedding.” Garret laughed.

No one argued with that at all.

“Never,” Chance Mul breathed as he beheld the bride. “Has a father had a more beautiful daughter just to hand her over to some other man.”

“Why you say the nicest things, Daddy!” Deirdre performed a graceful curtsey and grinned at him. “Such courtly things coming out of your mouth today, dear father. Just don’t forget I still remember Riddler.”

“You and more than a few others.” Mul ruefully agreed, then gave her a grin that showed where her mischief had come from. “But such is life, my dear child, such is life.”

“As you say, daddy.” She smirked then got a reminiscent look on her face. “Not so long ago I was nothing but a ragamuffin orphan no one really wanted.”

“Oh that’s wrong.” The baron countered. “I ached to know my children for more years than I care to tell you about. I would not disgrace your mother with the public knowledge that her ‘real’ husband had not fathered her children.”

“A thief with a sense of honor.” Shaking her head, she offered her arm. “I do hope that you never stop being so full of contradictions, my lord father.”

“Oh, don’t worry, dear child.” He chuckled. “I have contradictions I haven’t even pulled out of my pocket yet.”

“Good.”

“Are you ready? The march has begun.”

“As ready as I’m ever going to be, father.”

“Then hang tightly to my arm, ignore the crowd, and watch your husband-to-be waiting at the end of this walk, dear.”

“Oh gods.” She breathed as they reached the open door leading to the great central nave of the temple. “There are so many people out there!”

“What I just said, love.” The baron chided. “Remember this wedding is probably the biggest event in generations for this and several other kingdoms. Surely you can stand one short walk to reach what you’ve wanted since you met the man.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She softly answered then added. “Start walking, please.”

Garret watched proudly as his bride regally approached the altar on the arm of her father. Her entrance had been greeted by muffled sighs, ahh’s, and then a respectful silence for the feisty beauty who would one day be their queen.

Alomar leaned over just enough to whisper. “I think she has a rather firm grip on someone instead of it being the other way around for a change, my friend.”

“I noticed.” Garret flashed a quick grin in response. “But she is so lovely I don’t think anyone other than us have noticed that the good baron is likely to have a few bruises on that arm that are about the size of her fingers.”

“Worried?” Alomar asked with a smirk.

“About being married to that little hellion?” Garret asked in response, then sobered. “Or about that rumors that our shadowy enemies are going to strike at the wedding?”

“Either or.”

“The first, mainly, to be honest.” Garret shrugged. “My bride has proven she can take care of herself in a fight, and let’s see, she has the two premiere knights in Jhalmar, two mages — battle capable and proven, the finest assassin this world has seen in generations, and numerous other dangerous characters just in her wedding party. Not to mention she’s carrying her favorite back scratcher along.”

“I almost feel sorry for anyone foolish enough to try anything today.” Alomar grinned.

“I don’t.” Garret answered simply.

The nervousness faded into a wash of pride as Deirdre approached the raised dais and altar. “My beloved, the father of my child and my champion.”

“What was that, dear?” Baron Mul questioned.

“Just thinking out loud, father.” She responded with a genuinely happy smile. “Garret looks so regal, and handsome standing up there, doesn’t he?”

“That he does, dear one.” Mul answered and gave her arm a little squeeze. “I can’t think of anyone this father would rather see you with.”

“Oh, sorry about your arm.” Deirdre sighed. “I was almost terrified when we entered.”

“No matter, dear, though you are stronger than you look, believe me.” Her father answered with a little grimace. “Besides, what are few little bruises to worry about? Especially today?”

“I do love you, Daddy.” She laughed. “You always seem to have the right thing to say whether it’s acceptable or not.”

“I love you, too, my little darling.”

Her father gently set her hand in Garrret’s once they reached the dais, gave both a smile and backed away with a courtly bow. The couple looked at each other grinned and turned to face the altar and waiting priest without a word.

Jessica, Ilene, Mina, and Leila were ranged to Deirdre’s left, While Alomar, Elgil the newly knighted betrothed of Ilene, Anthalas who had pulled himself away from the wonders of his new found treasure trove, and Harald the court mage were to Garret’s left.

The ceremony went smoothly with all the right words, gestures, and responses right up to the final consecration of the marriage to the gods. At that point the very air shivered as subtle magical shields were dropped, a few people either screamed or shouted warnings, and a bewildering array of missiles filled the air.

After that, things really went downhill.

Mina pushed Deirdre down and aside as a large amount of those aforementioned missiles, darts, and small crossbow bolts sang their deadly song through the spot she had occupied a moment before.

Harald, Jessica, and Anthalas spread to form the points of a triangle with the rest of the wedding party in its center, raising their hands to form a protective globe around everyone on the dais and started fighting the opposing mages who had managed to hide themselves until the attack began.

Garret, Alomar and Elgil drew weapons that were obviously not ceremonial and formed up to protect the ladies who had no defenses of their own and the priest and his attendants scrambled, dove and rolled in undignified tangles of limbs, robes, and other accouterments in a near panicked rush to reach some form of safety.

Deirdre shook herself, looked to her sister and mother and had to shout to be heard. “Are you all right?”

At their frightened, but determined nods, she let out a visible sigh of relief then began to rise as Garret rushed to her side. “I’m fine, Love, I’m fine.

Gods!” she pales as something else occurred to her. “Their Majesties! Are they…”

“Covered by their own guard and your father,” Garret reassured her, “and being safely moved out of harm’s way.”

Standing and taking in the chaos a formerly solemn and happy occasion had fallen into, the midnight haired almost-princess’ blue eyes flamed with a very controlled anger. Reaching into a long and fairly well hidden white satin bag she began pulling something familiar out while growling. “That’s it! Ruin MY wedding will they?”

Chance Mul backed towards the now open secret door, sword drawn and his long dirk in his off hand, with these weapons he was more than a formidable opponent. To all but a few highly skilled weapons masters he would be unstoppable. But the swarm of enemies fighting through the panicked crowd to reach him, and the King and Queen were more than even his confidence allowed him to think he could handle.

Without turning, he commanded the guards moving to cover his back. “Never mind me, get their Majesties out of here and safe. I’ll hold the damned door.”

At their hesitation he sighed and almost gently ordered them. “I can take care of myself you lot. Your duty is to them. Carry it out.”

Once the door had closed and he heard the distinct click of it locking into place, Baron Chance Mul left his newfound nobility and Riddler emerged in all his slippery glory. Bolts, arrows, and darts passed through air where he had been a breath before, or were simple batted away by one of his blades. Without a word, like a murderous shade returned to exact an awful vengeance, he set to the grim task of holding that precious door safe.

He nearly struck out as a shadow detached from the wall nearby to stand at his side, but held his blow as he recognized the man. “Sestalphas. I thought you liked that cushy job of yours too much to risk something like this.”

Deirdre’s personal secretary shrugged while drawing a pair of long, lean blades out and almost negligently knocking another quarrel away from them. “Doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how to do this. Besides, why should you have all the fun?”

Waiting for the gaggle of terrified clerics to clear the small door hidden by curtains behind the altar, Bridgette gave a few helpful shoves or kicks to hurry them along drew a long, slender bladed dagger from a sheath at her thigh and moved through the opening.

“Finally.” She breathed, watching the carnage, and making certain that all her enemy’s protectors were busy with other things. “Now I finish you, bitch. Once and for all.”

“Get us a healer!” Evaine briskly commanded while holding a piece ripped from her gown to a bleeding spot on Cedric’s shoulder. “The King has been injured.”

“I’m fine, Evaine.” Cedric smiled and patted her hand. “Had worse than this from shaving, and you know it.”

“Your color tells me otherwise, my love.” His queen demurred, then turned to the group of soldiers and almost screamed. “I said…”

“Festin left to do that when we saw the wound, your Highness.” The chief of their personal guard gently answered. “Jerome and Alis are on their way now.”

“How many of these traitors are there?” Alomar gritted out between surges of the battle.

“More than enough for me, sir.” Elgil answered grimly. “And here come some more.”

“My name…” Alomar got out as the three met another attack. “Is Alomar, Sir Elgil… Call me sir again and I might just take you task for that later.”

“Would. You. Two,” Garret punctuated each word with a strike of his own sword. “save the arguing about that till… later?”

“He does have a point, s.. Alomar.” Elgil admitted while working a bit to the side to cover the groom in this disaster of a wedding a bit better.

“Good man.” Alomar approved. Whether that was for the former squire calling him by name or for the move to cover a comrade’s vulnerable side was a question to be answered later.

Bridgette could hold back no longer she was more than close enough in all the confusion. With a triumphant screech, she leaped to plunge her dagger into her hated enemy’s back.

The only warning Deirdre had that someone with ill intent was behind her was a widening of her sister’s eyes and the beginnings of a warning forming on Ilene’s mouth. It was enough. Turning slightly and moving to her left had the wicked blade tearing through her gown but glancing off the armor she wore beneath it.

The turn carried her around enough to bring the thing she’d pulled out of the folds in her gown into sight as she brought it into a defensive position. Her eyes widened on recognizing her attacker. “Bridgette. I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away, even without an invitation.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Roric’s former lady growled while moving the dagger she carried. “And don’t think that fancy armor is going to protect you from this.”

“Maybe not.” Deirdre didn’t move but did raise her goblin claw a bit. “But I think this will.”

“A back scratcher?” The other woman almost laughed. “This is going to be easier than I thought.”

“Mina.” Deirdre shook her head as the former assassin began to interpose herself between the pair. “She’s mine. Get Ilene and mother to safety.”

“Your Grace…”

“I Said she’s mine, Mina.” Deirdre answered with a dangerous quiet in her voice.

“Whatever you say.”

“That’s what I say, yes.” Deirdre affirmed then gave Bridgette a smile that would have chilled a blizzard wind. “Welcome to my wedding you traitorous bitch.”

The pair didn’t even bother circling, just dove straight into the other with screams of mingled rage and pain as they collided.

“Think their Majesties are safely away by now?” Sestalphas ran one attacker through and flattened another with the hilt of his other weapon. We’d do much better with more freedom of movement, you know.”

“I know, I know, old friend.” Chance answered while making sure another traitor went to pay for his crimes before his god. “But I told them I’d hold this door, and hold it I will until I know they’re out of danger.”

“Well, I think we just got your answer, the other man grinned as the hidden door flew open and royal guardsmen poured out and around them. “Shall we?”

“A moment.” Chance briefly spoke to one of the guardsmen, nodded, then turned to his friend with an evil grin. “Now we can show these amateurs what it means to face a real pair of trained thieves and blademasters.”

“About time.” Sestalphas nodded in satisfaction as the pair moved out from the protective ring of guards. “Let’s teach these upstarts a lesson the survivors won’t soon forget.”

“My thoughts exactly, old friend.” Chance pointed with his chin towards a concentration of the would be assassins armed with those tiny crossbows. “Let’s start with them.”

Alis shook her head, sorrow clear on her still beautiful face as she approached Evaine. “I’m sorry, your Highness. The wound is easy to care for. The poison on the bolt is less so. I fear he is dying and there is nothing either of us can do other than to slow it and ease his pain.”

Evaine had been told of the poisons these attackers were using and though pale and with tears running down her cheeks, she accepted what her personal healer said with a calm that showed she was truly a Queen. “Do what you can, Alis. I — I will be with him but don’t expect much from me in the way of compassion for anyone else just now.”

“Understandable, Your Highness — my old friend.” Alis gave her Queen a quick hug and turned her own tear streaked face back to keeping Cedric alive and pain free as long as possible. “Jerome and I will make certain he suffers no pains we can prevent.”

“Thank you.” Evaine returned the hug. “Thank you.”

“Harald!” Ilene, instead of allowing herself to be taken to safety had stayed, handing out extra weapons, binding wounds, and generally making herself as unobtrusively helpful as possible, saw the dart work through the shields and strike the mage in the neck.

Without thought of possible consequences, she ran to his side. She had become great friends with the court mage of Jhalmar since her sister had become what she was and carefully pulled the dart out of the wound and helped the old man into a sitting position.

“Blue bottle, belt pouch.” The mage gasped out.

With some scrabbling, and several false starts, she found it and tried giving it to him.

“No, dear one.” He grated out, fighting the pain he was in. “Drink it. It will protect you. I am done.”

“No!” Ilene tried putting the opened bottle to his lips but he took her wrist with a strength she couldn’t fight and shook his head before gently telling her. “No, it would do me no good. I never did get to know your sister all that well, given the things that have been happening since she became what she is, but you, you I have. Don’t waste the last gift I have for you, little one. Please.”

“But you can’t die!” Ilene insisted. “You’re the court mage, maybe the most powerful in all the world. I won’t let you!”

“Child, dear child.” Harald actually chuckled and gave her chin a gentle thump with a finger. “Everyone dies, it is merely moving on to something else, and my time to move on has come. Now, come, drink the potion and accept my gift while I can see you do so. It would make an old man very happy, trust me.

Before you drink, I tell you to remember what I’m telling you.” He looked directly into her eyes with a force that wouldn’t be denied. “Temper your anger with thought, consideration, and mercy. Now drink.”

“All right.” Ilene hesitantly put the mouth of the tiny bottle to her own and tipped it up, taking the sweetish but bitter contents in one convulsive swallow.

“Behold my successor.” Harald smiled and ran on hand over her cheek with a gentle smile. “I wish that you had been my daughter, Ilene Mul, but as it is, you’ll do. Don’t forget what I told you earlier. You’ll do well. I know it.”

With one long sigh, Harald died. Ilene screamed in anguish and that scream reached places far indeed from that temple. Then, knowing what to do without really understanding how she did, Deirdre’s little sister took her place in the spot Harald had stood in and added a new power she still didn’t completely comprehend to the mage shield protecting the others.

Though that didn’t keep her raging grief from finding enemies individually and putting an end to their existence.

Bridgette thrust with all her strength at her enemy’s stomach but that one twisted aside with an agility she shouldn’t have possessed in that bulky gown. “What does it take to kill you, bitch?”

“More than you can bring to the table.” Deirdre grimaced. “Bad enough you wish me dead, but you and your friends threaten my husband and child.”

“Child?” Bridgette hesitated for a moment at that revelation. You are with child?

“Then even more important you should die!” She screamed while slashing brutally for Deirdre’s throat with her weapon.

The odd weapon Deirdre carried glowed for a moment then moved seemingly of its own accord to block that slash. Batting the blade aside and leaving Bridgette off balance.

“I’ve been merciful twice with you, bitch.” Deirdre told her with an almost sad note in her voice. “To my and other’s great regret. There will be no third time.”

Following that, she reached forward with the Goblin Claw and touched the other’s chest. “Go to your reward or punishment, but don’t plague me or mine again. I command it.”

A Blue white haze formed around Bridgette and brightened as the woman struggled to strike again. She froze with an expression of mixed rage and horror on her face.

“I would kill you without a qualm.” Deirdre told her. “But that would only release your damaged soul to do more harm. Where you go now will determine a good deal, but you’ll never rise to threaten me or my children again. Go.”

Bridgette screamed as something seemed to grab her and pull her away from her hated enemy. The scream diminished as she did, as if she was moving away very fast. Deirdre watched until the diminishing point vanished then shook her head and looked at the gobblin claw. “What did you just do?

What did I just do, come to think of it?” She went on then shook her head. “That was a bit anti-climactic but I suppose it worked. Now if I could just figure out what that was.”

The battle was over, and the attackers either dead or well confined in dungeon cells specifically made to hold prisoners with either mage power or who had help from mages. Ilene, grim faced and looking far older than her fourteen years made certain the surviving attackers were well prisoned then shook her head, sat down and cried.

The surviving wedding party, and others, gathered in a much smaller chapel and the high priest was found and brought there. Once the cleric had arrived, Cedric forced himself to stand, walked painfully to the altar and gave the priest a look that plainly said he would brook no arguments. “Finish the ceremony.”

“But Your Highness…”

“FINISH THE CEREMONY.” Cedric roared with all of his well known strength then softened his voice. “Now, priest. I would see this finished leaving my nation and people in good hands.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” The priest nodded and gestured for Garret and Deirdre to approach him as he closed his eyes, drawing in calm and the power of the gods. Cedric watched as a tearful Evaine joined him. “In the sight of this gathering, and the gods, I consecrate this marriage and declare these two before me as joined in matrimony and life. Let none come between them on pain of the gods’ wrath. So it is said, so let it be!”

Garret lifted the now torn veil covering Deirdre’s face and lifted her chin with one finger. “Hello, my wife, my beloved.”

“I greet you, my husband and love.” Deirdre answered softly and leaned forward and went to her tip toes to set her mouth against his. The kiss was long, heartfelt from both sides and in spite of all the upset, put flames in her belly and a fire between his legs.

“A moment, if you’ll forgive me.” Cedric interrupted their rapt regard of one another as he took Garret’s right hand, and Deirdre’s left, joining them with his over both. “The King is dead, LONG LIVE THE KING!”

Having said that, he smiled at the newlyweds, then sighed as he seated himself on the altar and allowed his wife, Evaine to hug him tightly before the light began fading from his eyes. “Rule well, both of you, with my last blessing.

I will await you, my love.” He quietly told Evaine. “Don’t grieve overmuch, I’m not about to lose you forever. Remember that.”

“Come my beautiful queen.” Garret whispered to Deirdre. “There will be time for grieving, and we will do more than enough of that, I know. But for now, the gods demand consummation.”

“I was going to brain you if you claimed a headache this time.” Deirdre managed to give him a little smirk as she lay back on the bed in anticipation. “Now get with it husband.”

Well, this one has been quite a ride hasn’t it? I want to thank all of you who have followed the somewhat erratic adventures of Deirdre and her loved ones, friends, and enemies. I know that at times it probably wasn’t all that easy to do.

For those of you complaining about the sudden closeness between Harald and Ilene I have something to tell you here. There is a story about that and it will be told, though think about it for a minute. Ilene’s brother/sister was going through what amounted to Hell and Harald seemed to know what was going on. Where would a loving sister (with the same genes and temperament Deirdre has) go for answers?

The goblin claw? Well that’s a mystery that might or might now be revealed in time, and yes, I know exactly what it is, what it does, and how it does it, I’m just not telling right now.

Will there be another tale about Queen Deirdre in the future? Count on it, just not in the near future. There are other projects demanding attention right now that I should see to. But that evil cabal is still out there, war still looms on the horizon like the dark clouds of a nasty squall line headed right at you, and the story is far from finished. I just need to recharge so to speak by working on something else for awhile.

Next. Thank you to the Whateley writers group who first convinced me that Deirdre’s story shouldn’t be scrapped and was going to be a good one. I know I’ve shamefully neglected you all recently and hope to change that soon, too.

Last but far from least, thank you so much to those of you who have encouraged me, kicked me in the butt when needed, and offered suggestions for this story. You all know who you are so I won’t embarrass you by mentioning names. Just know I treasure you, your friendship and your help.

Maggie Finson

 

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“The governess to see you, your Majesty.” Sestalphas informed Deirdre and she could well see the man was barely holding back his amusement. “She says it is urgent.”

After signing the document she had been reading, Deirdre gave her secretary a probing look. “What have they done now?”

“I have no idea, your Majesty.” The man blandly answered. “The Lady Violet is barely coherent at the moment.”

“Don’t bother sending her in, I’m coming.” The Queen of Jhalmar told him as she rose from behind her desk and almost glided to the door.

“I believe that would be a good idea, your Majesty.” Sestalphas was smirking now.

“They are your god children, Sestalphas.” She gave him a pointed look. “One of these times I just might let you take care of a problem.”

“An event that would likely prove to be very enteretaining, your Majesty.” The man answered then barely suppressed a chuckle.

“Gods, what have they done now?” Deirdre questioned the ceiling knowing that her secretary wasn’t going to tell her.

“Central courtyard.” He told her. “Fountain.”

Deirdre pointedly ignored her secretary’s muffled chortles as she smiled at the fifth governess they’d had within the past year as she took the young woman’s arm gently and left the antechamber to her offices.

“What have those hellions done now, Violet?” She questioned, noting that the young woman showed no signs of having been tied up, or abused in any way other than her being wet.

“I am sooo sorry, your Majesty!” Violet let the words rush out. “They ignored every word I said, I swear on the gods I did my best to restrain them!”

“Peace, Lady Violet.” Deirdre shook her head. “I know my children. Just tell me what they’ve gotten into this time.”

“The — the fountain, your Majesty.” The girl managed to choke out.

“Ahh, and just what are they doing in the fountain, Lady Violet?”

“Fighting, your Majesty.”

Once the ladies emerged into the central courtyard of the palace, Deirdre noted the presence of sergeants Savar and Hemish.

“Why are you two just standing around?” She questioned the men.

“We were just preparing to step in, your Majesty.” Savar answered with a smoothness he had learned over the past years.

“Aye, your Majesty.” Hemish agreed. “Things have been a bit confused over the past few minutes.”

Giving a fond look to the leaders of her personal guard, Deirdre laughed. “Admit it you two. You’ve been enjoying this and didn’t want to stop it.”

“Well, they really aren’t hurting each other, your Majesty.” Savar defended himself and his long-time friend.

“I seem to recall giving you both permission to spank them if they really misbehaved.” Deirdre answered while looking at the thrashing screaming and giggling mess in the center of the fountain.

“But, your Majesty.” Hemish gave her half guilty look. “They are having so much fun.”

“I noticed.” Deirdre nodded with a sigh.

Deridre reached the edge of the fountain and watched the pair rolling around in the water for a few breaths then raised her voice just enough to get the miscreant’s attention. “Evaine! Cedric!”

The twins recognized the ‘mama voice’ in her tones and stopped long enough to give their mother a half guilty look before resuming their mayhem on each other.

“Don’t make me come in there to get you.” Deirdre threatened.

“Your Majesty!” Violet was appalled as Deirdre lifted her skirts and stepped up to the raised tiles around the fountain.

“I’ve been in there before, Lady Violet.” The queen reassured her children’s governess.

“But it is unseemly for you to do this!”

Deridre gave the bedraggled, still wet and dripping form of the governess an impatient look. “Would you rather go get them? Let me handle them, they’re my children.”

Before anyone else could protest, Deirdre stepped into the pool and started wading towards the two rowdies in the center of it. “You two stop this NOW!”

That demand from a queen who terrified hardened warriors had no effect at all on the pair of children wrestling and squealing as the fountain poured water over them.

“That’s it!” Deirdre growled as she moved forward to catch each miscreant by their necks and pull them apart. “What is it this time?”

Evaine, a miniature image of her mother gave her brother a dark look and piped. “Ced said girls can’t fight!”

Deirdre sighed and took her son’s chin in a gentle hand. “Cedric, do you really think that?”

“No mama.” The boy, with her piercing blue eyes and his father’s cornflower hair admitted.

“So what was this all about?”

“I don’t know, mama.” The boy mumbled.

“Cedric…”

The four year old caught the hint of menace and a spanking in his mother’s tone of voice and shrugged. “I wanted to play in the water and she wouldn’t.”

“So you made your sister mad enough to follow you into the pool?”

“No mama!” The child answered. “She pulled me into the water.”

“Evaine?”

“I just wanted to show him that girls CAN fight, mama.” The little girl responded.

“We’ll talk about this later.” The queen told her children. “Now why don’t we all go home and get into some dry clothes?”

She stopped them as they left the pool and gave her son a mother look. “Fish, Cedric. Put them back now.”

The boy sighed, then pulled two gold fish from a pocket and gently set them back in the pool.

“Other pocket, my beloved son.”

With a put upon sigh, the boy produced another goldfish and placed it back in the pool. “That’s all I have mama, honest.”

“Evaine.” Deirdre looked at her daughter.

“Yes mama?” The little girl gave her mother an innocent look.

“Fish. Back in Pond. Now.”

“Oh, all right.” The little girl sighed while taking several of the finny creatures from a pocket in her apron and setting them back in the pool.

“Now, let’s go home my darlings.” Deirdre took a hand of each child and led them out of the fountain pool. “We will discuss this once we are all in dry clothes.”

The king emerged from a side passage to watch his family leaving the area and shook his head. Mother always threatened me with having a child like I was. But she never considered having a child like my wife.”

Garret chuckled and followed the wet trail his wife and children had left on the way to the royal apartments.