Two Kingdoms 36: Dinner

[DoctorM]

TWO KINGDOMS 36: DINNER

This is the thirty-fourth part of an AU construction about a Gwynedd where the duel at Kelson Haldane's coronation went very differently indeed. We are now almost three years into the Gwynedd Wars-- Charissa's new kingdom at Valoret against the Haldanes in the south and the kingdom of Torenth in the east. This episode follows immediately after "Aubade". As always, comments and suggestions are very much appreciated.

****

"It'll be a very modern dinner," the Shadow Queen says. "We'll all be using forks."


The house itself is down by the St. Helier docks in Tolan-by-Sea, sited at the back of a deep courtyard, with gates and two gatehouses. It's almost aggressively nondescript— nothing here to disturb the neighbors, nothing to draw any unwanted attention from the parish pulpit. There's a breeze in off the harbor on a spring night, and there are patrols of Tolan Horse and Tolan Guard keeping the streets clear. Deryni witch-lights float in the court.

The Shadow Queen and her party have come down for dinner. It's all supposed to be very informal, very en famille, just the Shadow Queen and her intimates, but there's no real way to make a royal visit not a major event. If nothing else, Brennan de Colforth has been setting men-at-arms along the streets since mid-afternoon. The hired local bravos who usually man the gatehouses have been replaced by Tolan soldiers and the Grey Death's Slayers. Tolan-by-Sea is close  enough to Torenth, and everyone knows that King Wencit's man Rhydon has tried to kill the Queen's friends.

Mistress Montague is waiting outside for the Shadow Queen, surrounded by her own retinue. Charissa approaches the house steps and Mistress Montague and the others bow. And that, Charissa thinks, is a very great gift. She's seen Mistress Montague with the high-born before— with both her own father and Duke Lionel's, and bowing was not something the woman did.

"Well," Mistress Montague says, "Here we are. Her Grace the Queen of Tolan and the West, and the Queen's husband, too. Welcome to my house, Tall Girl."

*****

There's the scent of grilled lamb in the air, and the tang of ginger-garlic sauce wafts down the table. There's wine going round, and at the far end of the table Mistress Montague's young lady has a question.

The girl— Arielle, she calls herself —leans forward and looks down at the Shadow Queen. "Your Grace," she says, "We hear so many things about you. However is it that down in Gwynedd they can call you Charissa the Cruel?"

The royal party are guests in Mistress Montague's house tonight, and this is all to be a just-old-friends evening. The Shadow Queen has announced that most— most, though not all —of the usual rules are suspended. Still, this is very, very close to the line. Down at the royal end of the table, les chiennes freeze and wait for the storm to break.

The Shadow Queen is grinning, though. She raises her wine cup and gestures at her ladies-in-waiting. "Cruel? I'm not cruel at all— except maybe to this lot. And they like it."

"Not even to your lover?" Mistress Montague's favourite is enjoying herself. But maybe part of her professional skills has always been staying close to the line with high-born clients.

Charissa looks at her husband next to her. She taps her cup against his. "Not him," she says. "Not to my man. Not ever." She looks back down the table and her smile is cool and measured. "If you're asking, not even in bed. There's only one of Christian. I'll never be cruel to him."

"Hush, girl." Mistress Montague is looking fondly at her young lady. "I've known the Tall Girl since she was a wee thing. I've never seen her be cruel. She can be scary, but she's not cruel." She puts her hand over her favourite's. "Now don't go hoping for tales from the Gwynedd wars. They could be coming up here soon enough."

The Shadow Queen leans over and looks past her husband to Marc-Friedrich Aurelian. "Am I Charissa the Cruel to the Valoret mob, too?"

Her State Inquisitor laughs. "Not quite yet," he says. "You may actually be popular in Valoret. We're spending enough money there. A royal court is good for the city guilds."

Mistress Montague signals to a servant for more wine. There's an emerald set in silver on her left ring finger. That one's a gift from the queen's father, something given long, long ago when she was first the Marluk's camp woman. "Tall Girl," she says, "not to darken the mood, but...in my profession, we hear everything. I'm hearing that it's a bad week for you down south in Rhemuth city. What's happening with your war?"

Charissa looks into her wine cup. "No secret about it," she says. "We're losing Rhemuth. And it does sting. I hate losing. I've been preparing for it for months, but I don't have to like it." She looks over at Christian. "They're singing the Haldane song tonight in the suburbs, don't you think?"

"What's the Haldane song, then?" Mistress Montague is looking at her ring. "I never liked the Haldanes. Rhemuth's not a town for my kind, and anyway, I did like Gwernach. One of the few decent men I've known. It was the Haldanes who killed him."

Next to the queen, Christian sighs. "The Haldane song... I've heard it sung and I don't like it. I can't sing worth a damn, but the words are like this: Men of Haldane, forth in glory / Let that ever be your story... We need a good song of our own."

Down the table, Arielle the favourite is grinning. "But aren't you a poet, my lord? You could write a song for the queen's soldiers, couldn't you?"

Christian shrugs. "I'm not that kind of a poet. Mine weren't meant to be sung. I'm too old, anyway. Poetry's for young men. I just write history these days."

Mistress Montague considers. "Whatever's happening down Rhemuth way, it hasn't ended in tears yet.  So, Tall Girl— they're taking Rhemuth back. You leaving them something to remember you by?"

The Shadow Queen lifts Christian's hand and kisses it. "They'll remember me," she says. "If they expect me to be Charissa the Cruel, I won't disappoint them."

*****

Charissa walks down the anxious line of her ladies-in-waiting. Her eyes rake over each of the six. The Shadow Queen expects perfection tonight.

"Listen to me, you lot." She reaches out to straighten the high collar of a girl's khilat. "You know where we're going, and you know how to behave. Where we'll be, you can learn something. Ears open, mouths shut. And if I see any arrogance from you, if I see any disdain, you'll be lucky if I don't effing sell you to a third-rate brothel in Fathane. Understand?"

Les chiennes shift nervously. They spend their days mostly terrified of the queen. They've been dressed tonight with eastern elegance, but they're being taken far and away from anything young ladies of the court might expect.

"We're dining with someone I care about," Charissa says. "So you will be polite. You will act like you're at a court dinner in Beldour, and you will remember everything I've taught you."

She's standing in front of Kenna. "Make me proud," she says. "Show me what I've made of you."

Down the length of the long room the doors come open. Two Tolan Guard officers bow visitors in. The Shadow Queen pivots and bites back what she's started to say. Her husband is there, and so are half a dozen Tolan and Marluk commanders. She can see Aurelian there, too, with his men Darcek and Richter. Somewhere there to the back is young Ratcliffe from her own Tolan intelligencers. She takes a deep breath and then strides down the room, back straight, drawn up to her full height.

She stops in front of Christian. He's dressed for tonight's dinner, but he's somber enough there in the witch-lights drifting overhead. Charissa looks at her generals' faces and back at Christian. "If it's bad news, let's go ahead and have it."

Her husband nods. "Rhemuth," he says.

*******

The servants tonight are girls from Mistress Montague's house— young,  slender, slightly boyish, dressed as Torenthi page boys, obviously briefed and drilled for days. Charissa's ladies-in-waiting watch them with a kind of appalled envy, half-relieved and half-disappointed that they haven't been dressed as garconnes themselves. The house girls stare back at the silk khilats that les chiennes are wearing and try to guess at the cost and whether the robes were gifts from wealthy admirers. Dishes are brought in and out, and the wines— pale, light reds from the Arjent River valley —go around.

"I remember you as a boy," Mistress Montague says. She's lifting her cup to Christian. "You were always there at Sendal with your father. I remember you playing backgammon with the Tall Girl. You were a boy for books, too. Gwernach thought you'd never make a soldier. Look at you now. Dark Prince, they call you. And you did make a soldier, at least for a while.  Where were you?"

Christian traces a finger over the tablecloth. "The steppe. Moorish country and Bremagne. The Forcinn. I worked for Arjenol, too."  He flutters the fingers of one hand in a bowl of scented water. "Gave it up to come back north for Charissa."

Mistress Montague is pointing at him with a three-tined silver fork. "Just so you know, I've found out all about you. My sources are as a good as the Inquisitor's here. I know all you've done for her. Just because you're a prince now, don't think I can't tell you to take care for her. Versteh'?

"Versteh'."

Mistress Montague breaks into a smile. "Tell me something, Dark Prince. When it's all over, when you're in some marble tomb, what do you want carved on it?"

"Not a hard question, Mistress." We're back on home ground now, back to the kind of conversation Christian likes. "I'll want my name and whatever title I have, and I want it to say He defended his Queen. Simple enough." He feels Charissa's hand atop his own. Her fingers slide between his.

Mistress Montague looks over at her favourite and grins. "He's serious, you know.  So maybe he's not just some dash-away light horse captain after all."

The girl leans in and puts her head on Mistress Montague's shoulder. "I like that," she says. "When you have a lover, you hope everybody has one."

Mistress Montague kisses the girl on her forehead and looks down at Charissa. "Tall Girl," she says, "Queen of Tolan and the West. When it's all done and dusted for you, when you've an heir on the throne and you're buried in some great cathedral someplace, what do you want it to say for you?"

Charissa draws in a breath. "I think about that a lot," she says. "I think what I want, what I'm hoping for, when it's all over, is just this: In her time she did great evil, and yet greater good. I think that's me. I think that's what I want. I think it's the best anybody can get."

****

The Shadow Queen looks back at her husband. "What's happened?"

Christian nods back at the others. They're all gathered there around the queen. "Word from the garrison command at Rhemuth. Duke Nigel's men have taken the last two forts south of Rhemuth. There's Haldane cavalry in the suburbs. Their Llannedd mercenaries are moving up to the walls. Haldane troops will be there in a day. The city's in chaos. It's time."

Charissa is looking at the Tolan and Marluk commanders in the doorway.  "Your Grace," the senior of them says, "the evacuation is underway. We're holding the walls and the gates, but we've left the castle. All that was planned."

"What about the river?"

Christian gestures back for a portfolio of notes and sketch maps. "We have control on both banks, still. Kulnan Horse are on the west side. Our barges are moving. We're holding the docks in strength."

The Shadow Queen nods. "Let's get our people out. Hold the gates for a while, though— let's make the Haldanes fight for that. There's a withdrawal plan, so let's execute it."

One of the Marluk officers bows to the queen. "Your Grace— the garrison command says they can still fire the castle if you want. We can't leave everything for the Haldanes."

Charissa shakes her head. "No. Not this time— not everything. Put up a fight by the gates. Let's  see how that Llannedd rabble act if they have to break in to a city. I won't be the only one people say burned Rhemuth."

She turns to her husband and Aurelian. Charissa takes a breath. "Your people are ready?" Aurelian nods first, then Christian. Aurelian's man Darcek is holding out an opened portfolio with a written order. She presses her signet to the document and lets it flash. She  gives Aurelian a crisp smile. "Execute," she says. "Let's do our parting shot."

Her Inquisitor nods. "Executing," he says. "They'll remember us."

The commanders all look solemn and tired. Charissa shakes her head. "Whatever happens," she says, "whatever happens now is my doing. My name's on it. We knew this was coming, and we're ready. Get our people clear, and we'll give Duke Nigel and young Kelson something to remember us by. Let's get orders to Brechlin, too. Brechlin needs to be provisioning our people when they get off the barges. And I want a clear border zone between Valoret and the Haldanes. I want a wasteland. Are we all clear?"

****

Mistress Montague is looking down the table at the Shadow Queen.  She holds up her wine cup. "This one," she says, "pretty Arielle here, she says you're wasted on being a royal lady. She says you should be running a whole string of houses like this. She says you'd be rich as the emperor in Byzantyun and you'd have dukes and counts all begging you on their knees to find them pretty things for their special needs."

Les chiennes are trying not to gasp, but Charissa's smile is dazzling. The Shadow Queen lifts her wine cup in a toast. "I'm taking that as a very great compliment. From one professional to another.  And, ouais, I'd be damned good at it. That's one thing I learned growing up around you and my father's camp women— everyone has special needs." Half the table are staring at Christian and trying to guess at his; the other half are trying to imagine the Shadow Queen's. No one's had quite enough wine to say anything, though.

Mistress Montague takes a hard look at the queen. "Tall Girl— when you go home tonight, are you going to worry about your war? About what's happening down Rhemuth way?"

Charissa thinks for a second and smiles. "No," she says. "What I have to do, it's already done."

"So, are you doing great evil or great good tonight?"

The queen shakes her head. Blonde hair rustles over the high collar of her khilat. "Too early to say," Charissa says. "I'm doing what I need to do to win. It'll be someone like my man here who gets to write whether it's good or evil. We'll see how that goes."

Mistress Montague shakes her own head. "I have faith in you, Tall Girl." She signals for the servers. "Nachtisch and a paler wine. We'll talk more over that.  Tell me about good and evil the way high-born see them. Tell me the adventures you and your man have had. We're going to make a long night of this."

[Jerusha]

You have left me dangling from a cliff wondering what is going to happen in Rhemuth. Aaugh!

I do like Mistress Montague. 

And I want Christian and the Tall Girl to survive.  Oh, and of course Aurelian. 

[DoctorM]

You have left me dangling from a cliff wondering what is going to happen in Rhemuth. Aaugh!

I do like Mistress Montague. 

And I want Christian and the Tall Girl to survive.  Oh, and of course Aurelian. 

I think we'll seeing Rhemuth again fairly soon. And I like Mistress Montague, too. One day I just may have at least a flashback to a younger Montague and the Marluk.

[tmcd]

More precisely, I expect we'll be seeing *what's left of* Rhemuth.

[DoctorM]

I suppose we'll see what's left of Rhemuth.

Oh, yes. I think there will be a...tour...of the city.

[tmcd]

On your left is ... hmm, could have been the major guild halls, could have been Saint George's Cathedral, not sure ...on your right is why every charcoal burner for a hundred miles is currently out of business ...

[DoctorM]

On your left is ... hmm, could have been the major guild halls, could have been Saint George's Cathedral, not sure ...on your right is why every charcoal burner for a hundred miles is currently out of business ...

I do like that!