That evening she held a private party in the
quarters she had occupied before her departure for
Ness Royal, and the participants were those who had
shared them with her--Ruby, Dove, Alys, and
Sister Moment. Laraine had vanished
into matrimony, but Lady Arabel had just
returned from Ness Royal plumper than ever;
and naturally the three surviving Blades of the
Princess's Guard were there. The night twinkled
with music and dancing and brave efforts to be
merry.
Next morning, Malinda addressed the Guard
--not all of them, but the dozen or so who were then
attending her, for they comprised a fair sampling,
from Fitzroy, the eldest, down to Vere
and Terrible, the most junior.
"You have heard, I am sure," she said, "that
Parliament has sent me a bill dissolving the
Order. This is a foggy area of law, because ever
since Ranulf, the Blades have been regarded as
being within the royal prerogative. Ironhall
is paid for out of the privy purse. On the other
hand, Parliament does vote taxes to cover the
cost of the Royal Guard, and it did approve the
Charter, which exempts bound Blades from criminal
penalties and so on. I do not intend to sign this
bill."
They waited in silence. They were bright young men;
they knew the relevant law and history, but they
also knew that when Parliament clashed with the
sovereign, although it might not get all it
wanted, it rarely came away empty-handed. The
most affected were the youngsters, who had been sure of
many years' employment in the Guard, whereas the
seniors would have already been looking forward to release
and private life. Eventually Winter took his
finger from his teeth just long enough to say, "The Commons
will withhold supply."
"You are right," Malinda admitted, "up to a
point. Since this is the first bill they have passed,
it obviously lies near to the members' hearts.
They will bluster and blather; they will pass bills,
motions, and resolutions galore, but eventually
Parliament and I must come to agreement. The country
is close to civil war; the burgesses know that and
do not want it. In the end I must grant
redress, they must vote supply. If they will not
see reason, then I will dissolve Parliament and
run the government on funds gained by suppressing
evil elementaries." Snake had not clinked any
gold into her hands yet, though.
"But--" Winter thought better of what he had
been about to say and went back to nibbling.
"But," she said, "Parliament does not want
me to do that, and knows I would not dare challenge the
enchanters without you to protect me. There are many
layers to this. I assure you that if this matter has
priority with the members, it certainly does with
me. I am as bound to the Blades as you are
to me."
Fitzroy thanked Her Majesty for her
gracious words. She did not think she had convinced
her troops.
Everything fell apart very rapidly after that. The
Commons began debating the Queen's marriage.
Malinda summoned the ringleaders, including the
Speaker, Alfred Kildare. She left them on
their knees while she roasted them with a tirade on
the royal prerogative. She warned them that any
further discussion of that subject would see them all
in the Bastion. Her father had done it and she would.
She used words she had overheard in stables.
At the next meeting of the Privy Council,
Constable Valdor gave a review of the military
situation in his bone-grinding bass.
"Fitzambrose is definitely on the march,"
he said. "He's bringing all his father's troops
south from Wylderland, pulling in the garrisons that
support him. I expect the Black Riders
will join him. If he meets no resistance, he
should be here in nine or ten days."
Studying those coarse and ruthless features,
Malinda wondered whether Valdor himself would stay
loyal that long. "How many men?"
"Probably less than three thousand in
total, Your Grace, but at least three
quarters of them are battle-hardened
professionals. The rest have been intensively
"And Courtney?"
"He hasn't moved yet, that we know of."
No doubt he was too busy showering the
nobility with blackmail notes. Courtney would
always prefer subversion to overt military action,
in spite of his stunning victory over the Baels
--or even because of it. Malinda was convinced that the
true story of that engagement had yet to be told.
"We estimate the Prince has five or
six thousand men at his disposal," Valdor
growled.
"Not close," Grand Inquisitor snapped
with the delicacy of a falling tree. "Less than
half that, and most of them untrained, unequipped
farm boys."
"How sure are you?" the Queen asked. She
no longer believed much of what he told her, but
she dared not beard the lion until Burningstar
found a replacement lion. Even the Blades
might not be able to defend her if Lambskin's
Dark Chamber supporters chose to retaliate.
"Courtney had about a thousand when he attacked
the Baels--he only won because he took them
by surprise and caught them with their force
divided. They lost far more men to drowning than--"
"And the bodies were washed out to sea, of course?"
"Some of them, Your Grace. Some were washed up
on the beach. A victorious commander never has
trouble recruiting, but most of those who have gathered
under his banner since then are untrained and armed with
pitchforks." Lambskin's insistence on
downgrading the Courtney threat did not
necessarily mean he was not corresponding with
Neville as well, of course.
"Constable?" Malinda said.
Valdor growled. "I agree that he needs
weapons. The drowned Baels took theirs to the
bottom with them. You can't buy a good armorer now
for his weight in rubies. Arms are the biggest
bottleneck."
Malinda had always understood that the problem
bottlenecks were the small ones. Which side was
Valdor on? Having killed Granville, he
ought to fear Granville's son, although Souris
seemed to have made the reverse switch easily
enough.
"We cannot assume," the Chancellor said, "that
they will kill each other off and leave the realm at
peace. Is it not time and past time, for Her
Majesty to call up the levies?"
The bitter truth was that the Chivian crown had
no permanent army, other than the Household
Yeomen and the mercenary forces in Wylderland that were
now supporting Neville. To go to war, Malinda
must call on the peers to mu
ster and arm their
tenants; cities would supply money or raise
regiments. She had wide estates of her own, of
course, but Granville had drained them of men
to garrison his strongholds.
Valdor shrugged. "But how do you arm them? You
have the same problem as the Prince. Will you fight a
civil war with fists and pitchforks?"
"The lords are already arming," Burningstar said
bitterly. "Half of them have left town. Spirits
know which side they'll be on in the end."
"I suspect most of them will lean toward
Prince Courtney," Malinda said. "Does
anyone disagree with that? No? So the plan, I
suppose, is that I am expected to appeal to my
cousin for help against my nephew, and the price of
his help will be the crown matrimonial." She
looked around the table, searching for dissent. "I do
not--"
The door flew open. Audley
jumped like a cricket and came down with sword
drawn, but the intruder was only Sir Piers--
hatless, hair in wild disarray, doublet hanging
open, and half-unlaced shirt exposing an
extremely furry chest. He stopped just inside
the doorway, seeming quite unaware of Evening's
razor edge almost touching his throat.
"Ironhall!" he howled. "Your Majesty,
they have sacked Ironhall!" By then the Council
was on its feet, everyone shouting at once, so the
rest of his announcement was barely audible. He
rattled off unfamiliar names ... "rode all
night ... drove them into the moors ... burned
... dead ..." He belatedly went down on one
knee, and tugged his doublet closed. Audley
slammed the massive door in the faces of the
Blades gawking outside.
Malinda alone had remained seated. Again a
Blade had brought her a fateful message.
How many times had that happened in her life?
Dominic bringing her summons to court and thereby
provoking Godeleva's suicide. Lord Roland
telling her of her betrothal to Radgar.
Marlon's frantic ride to Ness Royal
to warn of Amby's imminent death. Now Piers.
She waited until the others sat down again,
abashed.
Piers said, "I most humbly beg Your
Majesty's--"
"Repeat your report. Who did this?"
Courtney's men, of course.
When he had finished, Malinda said, "Thank
you. You may withdraw. I will address the entire
Guard in the Rose Hall, right after this meeting.
Bring as many private Blades as you can find,
even if you have to drag them there. First I want
to speak with Sir Dog."
As the door closed behind the Blade, she
surveyed the shocked faces of her Privy
Council.
"Absolute idiocy!" Constable Valdor
growled. "What sort of military objective
was Ironhall? A few boys and old men? If
that's the best his Isilondian advisors can do,
the Prince is no threat to her Grace."
"Parliament will be pleased," the Chancellor
muttered hoarsely. "That finishes the Blades.
Popular move."
"I doubt if that was the main reason,"
Malinda said. "Now you know how to arm an
army of farm boys, Constable--there were five thousand
swords just hanging there for the taking. However, it is
an act of overt rebellion against the crown.
Chancellor, summon Parliament into joint
session. Announce the news and ask for a loyal
address attainting Courtney a traitor.
Better prepare a writ of dissolution for my
seal and take it with you, to be used if necessary, at
your own discretion. If they get the bit between their
teeth, send them home."
"And call out the levies?"
Malinda thought of men slain, men crippled and
mutilated, perhaps towns burned, women raped
... just so she could choose who would lie in her bed?
She sighed. "No. I think they would simply
join one rebel or the other, not me. I am not
going to throw the land into worse turmoil than it is
in already. Does anyone have any better ideas?"
No. Heads shook in morose silence.
They all knew that it was over.
When everyone had left, they sent in Dog.
He glanced curiously around the Council
Chamber, strode purposefully across to where
Malinda was standing, crushed her into his arms, and
kissed her. She had not expected that, but she
cooperated.
Then they looked at each other, still embracing.
"I want you to go first, love," she whispered.
"They know what you mean to me, so it will help the
others. Can you do that?"
His ugly face twisted in pain. "Must this
be?"
She nodded. "I'll explain to them. And then
I want you to do something. This is just as hard for me
... I'm going to send Winter and Dian back
to Ness Royal. I want you to go with them, see
they arrive safely. Wait there. If I need
a place to hide, that's best."
"And who gets you there safely?"
"I'll set up something with Snake.
Promise me!"
Dog argued, of course. He couldn't help but
argue. She won his promise eventually, but she
could not be sure that it would last long enough.
As she entered the Rose Hall, the waiting
Blades sank to their knees, which was a breach of
normal procedure, a unique tribute. It
brought tears to her eyes. It would not
make things easier. She went to stand behind the red
cushion that lay on the edge of the dais. She
looked over the assembled Order--Snake and some
other knights in the background ... half a
dozen private Blades also. She gestured for
them to rise.
"Ever since Durendal and Ranulf," she
said, "your Order has been the bulwark of my
house, an unfailing source of honor and duty,
of courage and dedication. More than once it saved
the dynasty. Now, alas, times have changed. The
Litany itself has perished in flames. The sky
of swords has fallen."
She located Dog, at the back. She could not
read his expression.
"Worst of all, I must tell you that, through no
fault of yours, you have become a liability. If
you insist on remaining to guard me, I shall be in
greater danger than if you disperse. Your
predecessors protected my ancestors from
death, but the rebels who destroyed Ironhall and
now march on Grandon are intent on marrying me
off, not beheading me." Courtney, yes, but
Neville might prefer to avenge his father. "Forced
marriage is a peril of queens, not kings. From
choice I would not wed either my royal cousin or
my nephew, but unwelcome marriage is a
common fate for women and we survive it. I will
still be Queen of Chivial. On the other hand, if
you stand in the rebels' way, they will slay you to the
last man. It will be a bloody battle, an
d I
will be blamed for the slaughter. I may even perish
in it, so you serve me best now by disbanding. I ask
you all to make this sacrifice. Companion
Dog?"
Would he? Could he?
For a long moment she held her breath. Perhaps
she had been wrong to ask him. All Blades
resisted release, although they were usually very glad of
it afterward. She was counting on Dog's love
to overcome the conjured reluctance, but perhaps it would
make the struggle harder for him.
Then he shouldered Fury and Winter aside and
strode forward to the cushion. A sigh seemed
to fill the whole hall. He hesitated again,
staring at her in puzzled agony, before he drew his
broadsword and offered it, hilt first. She had
forgotten how much that great slab of steel weighed.
He had refused to name it when he was bound, but one
night at Ness Royal she had teased
him that it must be called "Sword," and later he
had shown her that word clumsily scratched on the
blade near the hilt. She saw it again now:
Sword.
Dog never did things by half measures.
Instead of fumbling to unlace jerkin, doublet, and
shirt, he just put both hands to his neck and
ripped, hauling the remains down to his elbows.
Shoulders bare, he knelt for the dubbing.
"Arise, Sir Dog."
She returned Sword to him. As he backed
away, rubbing his eyes, Audley turned to face
the throng. "Companion Dominic!"
Dominic hesitated, face twisted in
horror. Bloodfang shoved him and he stumbled
forward.
"Arise, Sir Dominic ..."
"Companion Oak!"
Dog took Oak by the elbow and delivered him
to the cushion as surely as a team of horses would
have done.
"Arise, Sir Oak."
Dominic brought the one after, and then the pattern
was set. A few wept, but none of the Guard
made a serious attempt to resist.
Sir Reynard ... Sir Brock ...
Sir Crenshaw ...
Most of the private Blades had to be dragged
forward, although not one drew his sword or tried
to flee. Normally only the death of his ward could
release a private Blade, but in this dissolution
of the entire Order, the effort was worth making. It
might work for some of them.
And last of all: "Arise Sir Audley
...
"I thank you all from the bottom of my
heart," Malinda said, "and wish you long life and
happiness. The Treasury will distribute some
funds ... not nearly what you have earned, but all