Gaela jogged her horse through the twelve-foot tunnel and into the forecourt, his hooves tapping lightly.
They rode to the center, and Gaela pulled her horse up, calling behind for her captain to halt and bring in only the first squad of retainers: the inner courtyard was filled with soldiers, blocking the edges so her men would not all fit as they should.
Her husband waited, astride, at the fore of his own men.
Sun glinted off Astore’s chest plate, formed of three arched salmon in a trefoil. His helmet was hooked to his saddle, but otherwise Astore dressed in full war regalia, including the great sword on his belt. Fifty of his best men swept to either side of him, equally ready for battle. Behindhim, the five thick blue towers of Dondubhan rose, shading him with their authority.
Impressed, Gaela nudged her horse nearer to his. “Husband, you’ll leave me no time to don my own plates.” She put a hungry smile on her face. “Though glad I am to see you so fine and ready to chase our great purpose.”
Astore did not smile in return. His pale face remained rigid. “That will not be necessary.”
Gaela narrowed her eyes. “You have not reclaimed the border towns without me.”
“I will.”
“But why?”
“You are my wife no longer, and have no cause to ride beside me.”
The eldest princess laughed loud, for all these retainers to hear and take to heart. “Yet you are my husband, and thus married to the ascending queen of Innis Lear. But perhaps my father’s mind has infected yours, and you, too, will betray the woman you’ve professed to prefer?”
“Get off your horse, Gaela.” Astore flicked his gloved hand, and ten of his men dismounted, approaching her. She knew them all, had practiced with some. They willingly had called her their lady. Only two did not readily hold her in esteem.
“I will not,” Gaela said, heart racing as she readied for battle.
With a small sigh and a tightening of his lips, Astore nodded. Then he said, “Detain her.”
The men moved, and those of Gaela’s command who had pushed into the forecourt shifted nearer to her in returned threat.
“Stop,” Gaela ordered Astore’s men.
They did. A few glanced nervously at their lord.
“Astore, what is your cause to take up this absolute folly?” Her mouth curled with distaste.
The duke said, loudly for all, “The lady’s crime is treason against her father, for until Midwinter he remains the king of this island; and further treason against myself, her lord and husband.”
“Oh, Col,” Gaela said. The thrill she felt was nothing of terror, only anticipation. “I am Gaela Lear, daughter of kings and empresses, and these men around us belong to me and my island. Not to you—unless you are mine.”
“Restrain her,” Astore said, confident in his authority.
Standing in her stirrups, Gaela called, “Do so yourself, if you would be more a king than me.”
Her husband lost all the remaining pink in his face, lips blanching straightand white as worms. With a sharp jerk, Astore pushed his horse right up to hers.
Gaela stared at his pale eyes and smiled. She swung down off her mount. Though not in full raiment, Gaela had traveled in dark leather armor and a mail skirt with heavy wool trousers. Hanging from the saddle was her grandfather’s own broadsword. The pommel was shaped like a swan, and set with blue topaz in the simple cross guard. She strode the short distance to Astore’s horse and gripped the ankle of his heavy boots. “Arrest me, if you are able.”
He nudged her away and climbed out of his saddle. Because Gaela did not back off, he landed a hand from her, their chests aligned.
“I came here,” Gaela said, “to lead a charge against Connley and take this north forus,husband, but you greet me as if you do not know me, as if you could be anything without me.”
Astore gripped the handle of his sword in its piscine sheath. Softly he said, “You betrayed me, Gaela, years ago in deed, and now in defiance. Our marriage was a lie, and you have proved never to care for Astora or my people. You’ve cared only for your own ambitions. When my men sent word of what you did to the Oak Earl—your own uncle—I knew you’d lost yourself as your father did. I will join with the Kayo to take this island back for Lear. Elia will be a fine—gentle and womanly—queen for us.”
Gaela said nothing: a prescient regret silenced her.
She was going to kill her husband this afternoon.
The thought made her dizzy, but she relished it.
