Gatherdusk (Luminia #3)

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Zenith

The lavish Warner Estate rises above the stunted trees of the region, black bricks built high into four towers with crenelated spans between them. An enormous arched entryway looms at the center.

All this for one family?

A latticed wooden gate stands open to the courtyard. Big, but not big enough for my entire army, and the queen’s advanced troops will have taken over the inside. Mine will have to camp outside, but without our tents and wagons, that could become a burden in inclement weather. We also have several dozen war prisoners to consider. Where will they go?

A lawn sprawls in front of the massive home that will serve well enough for my army, as will the barns and hayloft in the back. Hopefully, enough sheltered spaces should rain or storms approach.

The lord of the estate flies out to greet us. Queen Aurielle isn’t with him. She must be at Lemossin, though I’d expected to meet with her here. That’s why we rushed. Perhaps that’s happening tomorrow.

“Ho there, Lord Warner,” greets Randal at the head of the troops.

“Welcome, Captain Randal.” Lord Warner is an unassuming man despite his obvious wealth and choice of bride. Brown hair and eyes. Tall for a fae. He could almost pass for a human if it weren’t for the bronze wings rising from his shoulders.

I swoop downward to make my pleasantries on foot and extend my wrist. “Good day.”

Warner clasps it. “Good day, High General Zenith. I welcome you and your proud warriors to my humble estate for as long as you have need of her. May your stay be restful and renew you and your men for the trials ahead.”

“Thank you, sir, that’s welcome news. We’re weary from our travels.”

“Our food stores are at your disposal. Bread, cheese, meat, and ale will be brought to your camp. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Aye, may we make use of the barns, then? We had to leave our tents behind.”

“But of course.” He makes a sweeping gesture toward the outbuildings. “The scribe’s letter arrived before yourself, sir. We know about the burned bridges, the wagons, and the sacrifices you’ve made to arrive with such haste.”

I glance at Anash, who has my heartfelt thanks for keeping everyone so well informed. He gives a subtle smile but otherwise holds himself straight and tall. As tall as Anash can be, that is, which isn’t very tall. His posture’s gone rigid. Right, this is a prince in the presence of the queen’s royal consort. Of equal stature. Neither should bow to the other, but they both seem awkward about the meeting.

Lord Warner stares at Anash’s tail. Anash will have noticed. He hates that sort of thing.

To stave off further discomfort, I carry on quickly. “Have you a place to contain prisoners?”

“Prisoners?”

“The survivors of the ambush. Thirty-eight men and women, mostly human. A few mixlings. None with magic that I can tell. Should be relatively easy to contain.”

“I would have thought you’d have them executed for treason,” says Warner, gruff and uncaring. “That’s surely what Her Majesty will do.”

I fight to keep my expression neutral, but I dislike killing unarmed men. To my left, Anash hides his horror, but I still see it in the minute widening of his eyes, the slight parting of his lips, and the subtle intake of breath.

The need to speak up on their behalf overwhelms common sense. “The prisoners surrendered after being soundly beaten. They’re harmless now and without a proper leader. I see no reason to kill them.”

“Just as well.” Warner shrugs as if their fate means little to him. “Perhaps the queen can get some information from them.”

“I’ve spoken with them already. As far as I can tell, they’re a splinter group from a rather unorganized resistance. Nothing useful to say.”

Warner smirks. “Her Majesty has her ways of persuading men to talk. There are holding cells below ground. Have your men escort them there and appoint guards from your number.”

I glance at Randal, whose face is as tight as mine feels. “Have Matilda handle it, will you?”

“Aye, sir.”

As much as the thought of torturing and executing people who surrendered turns my stomach, it’s not my call. I must see to my own. “Lord Warner, we are, as a whole, tired and hungry. Could I ask for the meal to be sent at once, please, and any extra bedding and blankets to be delivered to the barns as well? We’d be most appreciative.”

“Certainly, sir.” Warner turns to the man on his left. “See to it, Hup.”

“Yes, Lord Warner.” The man leaves.

“In the meantime, do come in and make yourself comfortable. The queen shall be in attendance tomorrow. It’s my understanding there’s much to discuss.”

I’d rather help the men set up in the barns, but Anash is already striding toward the grand entrance like he owns the place and not Warner. Proud shoulders, tail swishing, expression cold. Yes, he definitely noticed Warner’s staring. He never acts like this without reason.

Randal catches my eye. We share a nod and follow the two royals inside, trusting the army to handle setting up camp on their own.

Nola and Rolan hang back, but I wave them forward. Isolde too. Surely, an estate as impressive as this one can serve a small handful of guests such as ourselves.

The inside is as lavish as the outside. Gleaming statuary lines the inner courtyard, busts of fae I don’t recognize stand on pedestals, and even the decorative fence railings are ornately carved and slathered with gold.

What do the rich have to do with their gold but buy more gold?

I’ll admit, against the black brick, the golden accents are striking. But with how much wealth this estate boasts, my entire army could be fed for months.

Through a set of heavy double doors, we enter a grand parlor. Beyond it is the great hall, but we veer left instead.

“I shall show you to your rooms,” says Warner. “We’ll have your things delivered, and when you’ve had time to wash and settle, someone will be waiting to show you to the dining rooms for a meal.”

“Thank you,” says Anash. “Is there running water for a bath, or will it need to be brought in?”

“We have all the modern conveniences here, my prince. The new plumbing is a marvel. Wait and see.”

A bath will be most welcome, but my army in the barn has nothing but barrels of creek water for their wash. I should be there with them. It’s what Talus would have done. What I could still do.

And yet…

I’m unwilling to leave Anash’s side. He’s had a hard time adjusting, and the first battle didn’t sit well with him. He hasn’t looked at me the same since he saw me fresh from the fighting, covered in the blood of others.

If we can have an evening anywhere close to normalcy, I want it. For him. It will do us good to be alone together.

“This is the Silver Wing,” says Warner. “My apologies, Prince Anash, but with Her Majesty in and out of residence, the Gold Wing is reserved for her line only.”

Anash waves this off. “Not to worry. I’ll stay with Zenith.”

“That won’t be necessary. We have a suite for you with an adjoining bedchamber for your”—he casts a questioning look at Nola and Rolan—“attendants?”

“Guards,” I say.

“Guards, then. Another set of rooms has been prepared for General Zenith, Captain Randal, and…?”

I’m terrible at introductions. “This is Isolde Fenkin, one of my advisors.”

“And Milady Fenkin.”

Does Lord Warner not know Anash and I are mates? Surely, he wouldn’t suggest splitting up a bonded pair, even with the difference in our ranks. I’d thought Anash’s mother had made that part clear to the queen when she requested Anash be sent south with me rather than east with his sister. And she’d have told her consort as much. Wouldn’t she?

“We’ll sort out who sleeps where ourselves,” says Anash. “Thank you for your most generous hospitality. Our group will meet yours for a meal within the hour.”

He doesn’t say “dismissed,” but somehow the order comes across in his tone. Lord Warner nods and leaves.

Anash turns to our group. “Zenith and I will take the second room. I trust the four of you can make do with the suite that has adjoining bedchambers. Shall we check to be sure there are enough beds?”

“You must take the suite, Your Highness,” says Randal. “We’ve been sleeping side by side in the dirt. Side by side in an actual bedroom will be a vast improvement, beds or no beds.”

“Nonsense. There will be more beds in the suite. We’ll take the smaller room, and that’s that. See you in an hour for dinner. Come, Zenith.”

Randal bows.

I do as I’m told and follow my generous princeling into the suite meant for soldiers rather than the one fit for a prince. Anash and I will have the luxury of a proper bed for the first time in weeks. Such decadence, even if it leaves a guilty weight in my stomach.

The room is decorated in shades of silver and purple with a set of chairs, a chest of drawers, a small desk, a round wooden table, and a bed easily big enough for two against the far wall. A thick plum rug cushions each step.

“This will do nicely.” Anash takes one of the seats and unlaces his boots while I look around.

A large window is thrown open. The south’s humid billows through lavender and lace curtains. Through an archway is an attached garderobe. When Lord Warner said the plumbing was a modern marvel, he hadn’t been boasting. There’s a sink, a large copper tub for bathing, and even a covered privy. No chamber pots for the likes of the queen’s consort.

“Very nice indeed.” I splash my face with clean water and relish the fresh feeling. By the time I’ve wiped it dry and returned to the bedchamber, Anash is fully naked and staring at me like I’m a honey-glazed roast pork.

“Zenith.” He practically purrs, swishing his tail to wrap around my hips. “I’m hungry.”

What a great night to be food.