I shifted and, realizing that I held my staff in a death grip, I carefully leaned it against my chair. “Yes, Your Majesty. You see, there was this hand—”
Jusson held up a hand of his own, and I stopped.“How long ago did Ambassador Laurel arrive in Iversterre,Thadro?” he asked his Lord Commander.
I blinked, wondering what Laurel had to do with the groping hand.
“About six months, Your Majesty,” Thadro replied.
“Six months,” Jusson repeated. He saw my puzzled expression and gave a sharp-edged smile. “Ambassador Laurel wasn’t careful with his… speculations, cousin. Nor was anyone else he told them to. Especially when said speculations turned out to be true.”
When I’d accidentally translated my troop mates into animals and fantastic beasts last spring, Laurel had theorized that living where the People had once lived, growing crops, raising livestock, birthing children on the very land that contained fae bones and ashes, had made the human population of Iversterre fae too. Whatever that was true or not, our very substance had been altered—and Jusson was right; none who’d been translated were anywhere near discreet about it. Captain Javes was very fond of telling anyone who’d listen of how he became a wolf.
Lowering my gaze, I plucked at the stain near my knee as the implications sunk in. I just had a taste of the townsfolk’s reaction to talent at work around them. I could imagine what their reaction would be to it working inside them.
Jusson tapped on the desk, reclaiming my attention. “Ask us about our journey here, cousin. Ask us how we had to fight to keep our kingdom from descending into hysteria and chaos.” Gold leached into the king’s eyes. “One poor mother came to us, her simple son accused of being a changeling. But we were too late and the child had already been hanged and burned. His father made the noose, then lit the fire.”
Realizing that my mouth hung open, I shut it and bit my lip to keep it closed.
Jusson’s brow raised. “You don’t ask us, Rabbit.”
I unbit my lip and tasted blood. “Sire, I—” I faltered, not knowing what to say.
“Three months of progression,” Jusson said. “Stopping in every city, town, village and crossroads we happened upon. Soothing, bribing, quelling, punishing, while my lords buzzed about like hornets, seeking any chance to sting. Still, it was working. The accusations, the stonings and burnings waning as our people stopped trying to rend themselves in pieces. We achieved, if not peace, then at least a sort of calm.” He shifted, resting his elbow on the chair arm and placing his chin on his fist. “And you destroy it in less than one hour.”
“But, sire—”
“Do you think that what happened this morning isn’t spreading through the region?” Jusson asked. “To the rest of the kingdom? On eagle’s wings, cousin, as fast as it can.”
“But the hand—”
Jusson’s own hand slammed down on the desk and I jumped. “I don’t give a pox-rotted damn if a thousand hands are crawling all over you! You do not put your own in harm’s way.” His eyes were almost solid gold in his anger. “Shall I tell you how many were injured? The damage done to not only property but to people?”
Apparently the leering head jailer hadn’t been exaggerating about the aftermath of my morning battle.
“Damage also to reputations, sire,” Thadro put in. “Yours and Rabbit’s.”
“Indeed, yes,” Jusson said. “To my word as king that there is nothing among us that would cause hurt. What do you think those hornets are doing with that?”
I said nothing, my stomach in knots, my spine tight.
“I had many people in here today, Rabbit,” Jusson said. “Each demanding your head, though Doyen Dyfrig did blame pernicious magical influences instead of you. Even so, he joined the others in insisting that I purge the land of anything that even hints of the Border. As a town elder said, ‘Send them all back to hell where they came from.’” The king shook his head, his eyes steady on mine. “Three months of work gone, and my kingdom once more sliding towards the abyss.”
I looked down again to see that my hands were shaking.
“Nothing to say?” Jusson asked, his light voice mild.
I shook my head. “No, sire.”
“Ah,” Jusson said. “A sign of intelligence.” He shifted again in his chair. “Sometimes, when things go wrong, there’s nothing to do but to start over. I will not allow my people to destroy each other in their superstitions and fears. Nor will I allow purchase to those who seek to use this for their own ends, whether within the kingdom or without. So I’ll begin anew, even here in this bump of a place on the backside of the mountains. Begin anew, even with you, cousin. Lord Commander Thadro lost his second in the rebellion last spring and hasn’t had time to choose another. So I’m choosing for him. You are assigned as his lieutenant. Effective immediately.”
That got my attention. I sat upright, my eyes wide. “Sire, Captain Suiden—”
“Suiden already has a second,” Jusson said.
That was true. Lieutenant Groskin had been Suiden’s second longer than I’d been in the army. I tried again. “Sire, my mage lessons—”
“Ambassador Laurel will still teach you, cousin, with a sharper emphasis on self-control.”
Backed into a corner, I opened my mouth anyway. “Sire—”
“No argument, Rabbit,” Jusson said. “I’ve only a small complement of my Own with me and can’t spare any for you, so Troopers Jeffen and Arlis are assigned as your personal guards.”
All small sounds behind me ceased, including that of breathing.
“However, they also will report to Thadro. Until I decide otherwise.”
Thadro’s blue-gray eyes were gleaming with satisfaction as he reached down behind the desk and came up with a bundle. Humming, he opened it to reveal a royal guard’s uniform, complete with a royal blue-and-white tabard with dark blue piping.
“Thirty-two lines through Chause,” Jusson mused. “Forty through Flavan. How many total is that?”
I said nothing—Jusson knew damn well how many degrees I had to his throne. In a land that counted nobility by low many direct descendants a House had of Iver, the first king of Iversterre, it was why he could call me cousin and name me his heir.
“Rabbit has sixty-four lines, sire,” Thadro said, stepping into the breach. “There’s some duplication between Chause and Flavan.” He shook out the tabard with a snap and I could see the griffin on the front, along with a lieutenant’s insignia on the shoulder. My finger rose to my collar and I gave it a swift tug, swallowing hard.
“So there is,” Jusson said. “My nobles do tend to intermarry, don’t they?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Of all the Houses, you’re second only to me, Rabbit. It’s time that you learn what it means to be my heir. So you will.” The king’s razor smile returned. “As you say, fiat.”
Chapter Four
Apparently not trusting me not to bolt, Jusson handed me, Jeff and Arlis over to his majordomo. The king’s most senior servant looked the same as when I last saw him in the palace at Iversly—short, thin, his white hair thick upon his round head. His face was impassive as he accepted us into his care, ushering us out of the king’s study with a bow. As we left, I heard Jusson invite Peacekeeper Chadde to pull up a fresh chair and tell him about the larcenous head jailer.
“Menck’s a kinsman of Mayor Gawell, your Majesty,” Chadde said, her voice unruffled. “We’ve had problems with him and his men before. This time, though—”
The study door shut, cutting off the rest.
The majordomo led us up the back stairs to a bedchamber on the second level. It had a large four-poster bed, a tall clothespress, a small table with chairs around it and a mirrored washstand, all illuminated by a fire crackling in the stone fireplace and an abundance of lit candles. With the influx of nobles into town, I was surprised that such a spacious chamber hadn’t been snapped up. Then my gaze fell on the three tubs in the middle of the room, and all thoughts of new assignments, invisible hands and appropriating aristos disappeared.