“The old man wants to show you off,” Dourin said after Venick had confided in him one evening. Most of Venick’s army spent their nights in the barracks or the city’s inns, but Venick had requested that Dourin be given a set of rooms within the castle near his own. “You are his new warrior son.”
And yet, Venick wasn’t sure that was the whole of it. He found himself studying the older man. The Elder wasn’t a king—the mainlands had no king—yet the man’s power couldn’t have been all that different for lack of a crown. Venick saw the way he treated his subjects, how he bent others to his will with a simple word, or even a gesture. He could be as solicitous as he could be cruel. The Elder’s temper was an ever-shifting breeze.
“There is someone I want you to meet,” the Elder told Venick two nights before the engagement banquet.
It was a soldier. He had a patchy frizz of beard, a knot of an Adam’s apple. He couldn’t have been a day past sixteen. Venick wondered if he’d ever looked like this, so skinny and timid. He remembered that he’d been sixteen when he first met Lorana.
“Harold is from the town of Igor,” the Elder explained with a smile. “He came all the way to Parith to serve in my army. His family must be so proud. You have a mother and sister, don’t you, lad? So proud indeed.” The Elder continued to smile, but the compliment, like the one he’d given Venick, felt flat. “He is one of my hardest workers,” the Elder continued. “All the money he makes, he sends back home. I have heard his family has even saved enough to buy a new house. Isn’t that wonderful? What a marvel he is.”
Venick’s eyes darted up at the Elder’s choice of words. The soldier bobbed his head nervously.
The next morning, Venick learned that the young soldier had been hanged. “He was a thief,” the Elder explained over breakfast. They sat in a parlor overlooking the gardens, the windows flung open to let in the day. The Elder dug his thumb into an orange, peeling back the skin as juices dripped. “He’d been stealing from my imperial coffers. My soldiers earn a stipend, but not enough to explain the expense of a new home.Thatwas how his family managed to afford it.”
“How did you find out?”
“He confessed.” The Elder noted Venick’s surprise and smiled. “The guilty ones always do.”
It was in this way that Venick came to learn how the Elder used compliments to ask questions, lapping on praise to test his men’s loyalty. Rather than force a confession, the Elder liked to draw it out, sometimes over the course of days or weeks. He dug his thumb into his men like he dug into that orange, watching them twist with guilt and discomfort until they split open under the strain. The Elder’s daughter, it seemed, was the only one who held his true affection. To Harmon, the man was nothing but kind.
“Harmon my dear, shouldn’t we set a date for the wedding?”
It was the afternoon before the engagement banquet. They strolled the gardens, Harmon and her father side by side, Venick a little behind. Harmon glanced at Venick over her shoulder.
The Elder said, “Our banquet guests will be anxious to know a date.”
“Perhaps springtime,” she suggested, looking at Venick for clues. What did he desire?
Venick should have given a nod. He should have asked to be married as soon as possible. The sooner they were wed, the sooner he would have command of the Elder’s men. Yet Venick found that he couldn’t speak.
“Or we could wait for summer,” Harmon continued. “The highlands are beautiful in the summer. The weather is mild, and the skies are clear.”
“The start of summer,” the Elder agreed. “So it will be.”
???
When Venick returned to his chamber that night, he was surprised to find Harmon there inside, waiting for him. He froze in the doorway. “How did you get in here?”
“This is my father’s castle,” she replied, as if that explained everything. Which, in a way, it did.
Venick stayed where he was.
“Relax,” she said, pushing off the wall. “I came to talk.”
Since returning to the castle, Harmon had traded her plain homespun clothing for the colorful, extravagant dresses favored by highland women. The one she wore now was floral, stitched with vibrant purples and pinks. It didn’t suit her.
She crossed her arms. “You’ve been angry with me.”
Venick was silent. He couldn’t deny it.
“If it is any consolation,” she said, “I didn’t know what my father would offer you that day in the great hall. I certainly would not have guessedmarriage.”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“I am not so much in his confidence as you might think.”
Venick closed the door slowly behind him, letting that information settle. “I thought you knew. I thought this was what you wanted.” He met her eye. “Isthis what you want?”
“I always knew my marriage would be arranged,” Harmon said simply. “I suppose I even knew it would be to a soldier, though perhaps not one from the lowlands. Though, why not? My father has had his eye on the Golden Valley since before I was born. And you’re a commander of elves and men both, leader of the lowlands. You’ll be like the son he never had.”
