Free Hammer Of God by Karen Miller

to the dark place where Zandakar lived…and she lived with him.
    “I'll not dissuade you, then?” he said. To his own ears his voice sounded dry and defeated. “Nothing I say can turn you from this path?”
    She laid two fingers across his lips. “If anyone could, Alasdair, it would be you. I swear it. And only because I love you, and know you love me, and know you understand what's at stake here, do I dare spurn your offer.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed him, the lightest touch of lips to lips. “Don't think for a moment I don't know what this costs you. Don't think I don't live forever in your debt.”
    He stepped back. “If you wish to insult me continue this talk of debts, Rhian. I wasn't blind when I wed you. I wasn't ignorant when Helfred crowned me King Consort of Ethrea. From that moment I was destined to live in your shadow. I know that, and accept it. But you must accept that at times, though shouldered willingly, the burden is cruel…and I won't always spare you its cost to me.”
    “That's fair,” she whispered. “And more than fair. It's right.”
    “Yes. It is.” He ran an unsteady hand over his face. “So this is why you've released Zandakar? So he can help you prepare to fight the dukes?”
    She nodded. “They'll use their longswords. I'm used to dancing with a dagger. I must find a bigger blade and learn how to dance with it and I haven't much time. He's the only one who can school me, Alasdair. This isn't a matter of want, but of need.”
    “I grant you that,” he said, grudging. “But can't he school you out of his cell? Must he be housed in the castle like an honoured guest? Like a friend?”
    “You know?” Her eyebrows pinched. “It seems my royal servants haven't enough work, so much time is spared to them for tattling and gossip.”
    He snorted. “Don't change the subject.”
    “Zandakar will remain on the top floor of the east wing,” she said. “One corridor leads to his chamber, and a full skein of guards will keep him snugly within. He'll not tread a foot anywhere without an armed escort. He's still a prisoner, Alasdair. A gilded cage is still a cage. But since he'll be helping to keep me alive it would be churlish not to remove him from the dungeons.”
    Yet again she was right, though it seared him to admit it. “I see you've thought it all to a careful conclusion.”
    “I think I have,” she agreed. “And I'd be happier about it if I thought you were with me. I know you'll say you are with your public face but between us, in private…” Her voice caught a little. “Alasdair, we can't always be at odds.”
    “We're not,” he said, and kissed her forehead. “That I don't like a thing isn't the same as saying I can't see the right of it. Do you have a date in mind for this judicial confrontation?”
    “I thought Tassifer's Feastday,” she said, trying to smile. “Given it celebrates a triumph of justice over persecution.”
    “And that gives you time enough to learn from Zandakar what you must learn, to prevail?”
    She shrugged. “It'll have to.”
    Rollin's mercy, how it galled him that he couldn't take this burden from her shoulders. “Very well. You'll dictate the dukes' letters to Ven'Cedwin now?”
    “As soon as he's done in the buttery, yes.”
    “Then I might leave you to that,” he said. “You don't need me to put words in your mouth. I have business of my own to truck with. Do we dine alone or on state business tonight?”
    “I'd rather we dined alone,” she said, pulling a face. Diverted from protest, as he'd intended. “But I think Edward, Rudi and Adric would feel better if they broke bread at our table.”
    Adric. “Our new duke of Kingseat makes me nervous, Rhian. He lacks…polish.”
    She shrugged. “I know. I've been thinking the same thing.” Her eyes lit with sudden mischief. “In fact, I've been thinking he'd benefit greatly from a mentor. A personage with gentility and self-control, who well understands how to be a man of