Free Son of Avonar by Carol Berg Page B

until his position was secure.
    That was enough for the moment. I lived for my days at Windham and harbored no illusions about my future. I was a key to Tomas’s fortune every bit as much as his strong sword arm. Many brothers would have forbidden the freedom I had, so I treasured my friendship with Karon and all Martin’s circle, and I acknowledged nothing beyond it.

Year 31 in the reign of King Gevron
    King Gevron fooled everyone by lasting two more years. Though Evard chafed, he was not idle. As he had predicted, an astonished Earl of Vennick was found guilty of diverting tax revenues into his own pockets and retired to his country estate in disgrace. And a witness signed documents avowing that the priest of Jerrat who had presided at the wedding of Gevron’s sister Lady Catherine to Sir Charles Colburn was an impostor, unknown to any temple in Leire. Therefore Lady Catherine’s son Frederic, Duke of Warburton, was a bastard and had no claim to his uncle’s throne.
    With no little unease, I watched Evard bind Tomas ever more closely to his fortunes. Evard told my brother that it was time he named his own military staff. As the lord of such a vast holding as Comigor, Tomas should replace the old Comigor captains who were beholden to our father with younger men who would be loyal to him alone. Evard even offered to loan him Captain Darzid.
    To think of my father’s loyal commanders thus dismissed, seven fierce and honorable warriors who had dandled me on their knees when I was small, who had taught me to shoot a bow and still brought me exotic gifts from their travels, was insupportable. In the past year, as Tomas and Evard had become more engrossed in their intrigues, I had spent a great deal of time with Captain Darzid. I enjoyed his wit and found his ever-sarcastic observations of Leiran courtiers amusing. So, on the night before the change of command, I sought him out at his townhouse and explained my feelings.
    He pressed wine into my hands and, once done with his delightful renderings of my brother’s shock and the scandalized court ladies’ gossip at my secret venture into a bachelor’s house, seemed sincerely interested in my pleas. “What would you have me do, my lady? I am ever at your command as you well know. But my refusing the post will not help the old curmudgeons. Nor should it. Duke Tomas is absolutely right; your own safety depends on his control of his troops.”
    â€œYou’re clever, Darzid. I know you care for no one but yourself”—we had discussed this many times—“but for this once, bend your wit to a kindness. I’ll think of something magnificent to reward you. I swear it.”
    He promised to think about it, and indeed on the next day as the seven were forced to turn in their shields and strip the four guardian rings of Comigor from their sur-coats, he presented each man with a fine new sword, a new warhorse, and a document vouching for his valor and loyalty, so that he could get a new position with another house.
    When I thanked Darzid for extending himself so generously and on such short notice, he looked at me in an oddly calculating way that left me feeling uncomfortably exposed. “I would have as soon seen them hanged, lady. But the prospect of a reward from you . . . that intrigued me enough to spend a small fortune and a night’s work.”

Interregnum
    By the time King Gevron gave in and joined his forefathers in the great tomb on Pythian Hill, Martin was first in line for the throne, and, after him, Evard. Tennice said it was only a matter of time until some accusation surfaced about Martin. Even after all I’d heard, I refused to believe that, either of Evard, who was almost certainly to be my husband, or of Tomas. But a few days before the Council of Lords was to announce the succession, the Council received a letter avowing that Martin, Earl of Gault, had sheltered a sorcerer. The letter named one