Free The Forgotten War by Howard Sargent

surface it will be seen as an effort to rein him in, so I would expect a public display of reserved antipathy; however, in reality a northern baron has just been given
a seat at the Grand Duke’s high table. It is almost unprecedented. It is forcing him to tread a line between pleasing his fellow barons and pleasing the Grand Duke, which is of course
Leontius’s intention in the first place.’
    There was silence for a moment. She stood up and looked out of the window staring idly at a lone goose pecking its way across the courtyard’s straw-covered stone. Her world was falling in
on her. ‘Thank you for telling me, Father, for explaining everything. If this is my duty, I will not fail you.’
    ‘Thank you, my dear, and I am sorry.’ He came towards her, kissed her gently on the forehead, then turned and left the room.
    Ceriana watched him go, down the narrow passageway leading from her room then down the steps towards the great hall. She then shut the door, sat on the bed and rubbed her eyes, trying
desperately to stop the tears welling up inside them.
    She needed to get out of the castle. Being the daughter of a duke, however, this was easier said than done. Firstly she had to tell the seneschal who had to arrange an escort, check her route so
any undesirables could be cleared out of the way, and organise wagons, supplies and the like. Once all that was done, she could proceed.
    The coastline around the castle was all high cliffs and precipitous drops, but some two miles away a small river, barely more than a stream, cut a cleft through the hills before entering the
sea. Where it did this there was a small rocky beach that could be accessed only via a steep path that was almost completely concealed by brakes of high ferns on both sides. This beach was a
favourite spot of Ceriana’s; it was quiet, with just the sound of the sea, the gulls and the wind whipping her hair into an unholy mess. The wagons had to be left at the top of the path and
those retainers and soldiers who had no choice about remaining up there with them had to endure the steep climb down, burdened as they were with provender and other essentials required for a picnic
on the beach.
    She took a little guilty pleasure in hearing them cursing and sweating as they clambered over the soft earth and pebbles. The ferns made the air still and hot, and the cloying smell of the
densely packed vegetation filled the soldiers’ noses. At long last, at the bottom of the path, the ground levelled, the ferns suddenly fell away and they were hit with the shock of the sea
air billowing around them, cooling the sweat on their faces, its exhilarating freshness bringing new vigour to tired legs. The journey back up the hill was another matter entirely but Ceriana would
worry about that later. Now she was just standing looking at the waves as they broke on the sand and crashed against rocks, and wondering if she would ever see one of her favourite spots again.
    Lady Catherine scurried up to her, her pinched face blotched red with exertion. ‘I really wish you would choose somewhere more accessible for your walk, my Lady.’
    ‘If it was easy to get to, then it would be full of people and hardly the same place at all. The effort to get here makes this a much more appreciable place, don’t you
think?’
    ‘I don’t think my legs will be appreciating anything tomorrow,’ the girl groaned.
    But Ceriana wasn’t listening to her; she had already started to walk along the beach. Ahead of her a couple of soldiers fanned out, with more either side and behind her. Just clambering
through the ferns were some servants, including some unfortunates bearing heavy hampers for the meal they would take on the beach.
    Since the conversation with her father she had gradually come to terms with the fate awaiting her. The wedding was now only a couple of weeks away and, although she had always imagined that she
would want to control all the minutiae of its organisation,