Chapter 17: Vouched For
Laila surveyed the smoke from the central fortress on the west side of Leislay, thinking it was a foolish place to put a base. They had no real understanding that their greatest threat was to the south—these foolish Midlanders.
She felt bad for them, in truth. Centuries of general decorum between the sovereign kingdoms of the continent had been upended the day Rotnisil attacked Katan-Bat. Now Leislay was taken. There seemed to be no end in sight. Laila turned away from her tumultuous thoughts.
The structure had tiers of balconies that provided various viewing points for both the western courtyard and the rest of the city to the east. Laila rested her forearms on the balcony while the sun began to set. The scenic sunshine did little to mute the sounds of death and oppression blaring throughout the city. After a few minutes, she had enough and turned around.
As she searched the keep, she came across the closed door to Lord Ralu’s meeting chamber, guarded by two Knights of the Peace. She noticed Sir Esel among them, his brass mask and tall frame standing resolutely.
Laila walked up to him, the two sharing a silent nod. He let her listen near the door behind him. She knew he was a good man, and she knew his vices. He was careful not to bother her because of it. She bounced off to the side as the advisors finally exited the meeting, watching them walk by her down the hallway without a glance. Layos, Ralu’s right-hand man, nursed a bruise on his cheek and walked stiffly.
Instinctively, Laila raced to the side of the balcony, seeing Ralu’s officers leave the fortress, off to do evil. Glancing back into the open doors, she saw Ralu and her father finishing their conversation.
These two have brought misery to this land, she thought bitterly.
She renewed her composure and headed inside.
Na’Vanad’s time is coming, Laila reminded herself. He must think of him positively if he’s to agree to let him marry me.
She saluted Sire Esel and the other guards, then entered without announcement. Carefully closing the door, she kept her head bowed as she entered. To her dread, it was a feminine voice that noticed her first.
“Oh look, my love,” she said in her sickeningly soothing voice, “Laila’s come in her rags.”
“It’s a fine uniform,” her father said from the other side of the room, concocting a potion with several vials of different colors, a masked assistant surveying and nodding as he mixed things. “Don’t be jealous.”
Lord Ralu laughed mutedly to himself, bowing to the king, then leaving the room to the royals.
Laila set her eyes on Bayna, her father’s favorite concubine. A woman like her had a disgustingly effective way of ascending in the world, but that was not why Laila hated her. It was because she mocked her late mother whenever she could, and gently pushed her father against her. Bayna could easily stand in the way of Na’Vanad’s knighthood and their marriage. Once Bayna knew her plans, she would reveal them to her father—and for once she would be right about it. Bayna hated Laila.
She pulled the cloth balaclava off her face, her hair a stringy mess.
“What brings you and your unladylike appearance here?” Bayna asked. “We have important business to tend to.”
“Business?” Laila tilted her head. “I was unaware that lying on your back and spreading your legs was anything more than your sole purpose in life.”
“Silence!” her father growled. “You women are incessant. What do you want, Laila?”
Bayna laughed to herself.
“I wish to relay my congratulations to you and General Ralu. Today was hard fought, but a victory nonetheless.”
“Hm,” Rontisil sipped his potion. “What did you make of Na’Vanad’s outburst?”
“I thought he was brave,” she said. “I pray you do not think to punish the man who won you a great battle today.”
“He is a Shavu, and he struck an officer.”
“He stole his horse, too,” Laila said with a grin.
He frowned at her.
“Father, it was Layos,” Laila said. “He’s hated by many of Ralu’s own men. Does it not speak volumes that not a single man acted to stop him? Nor speak a word of defense?”
“Aye, that is true,” Rontisil said. “Although he should not have done it.”
“But he did because no one was willing to do what was wise. You must admit that crushing Kagarani’s army was impulsive, and ultimately would have been the wrong decision.”
“So you praise a slave for foiling my plan?” he mused. He did this to test her, always.
“I mean to caution you, father,” she said. “That young man is capable.”
“She’s fawning,” Bayna groaned and rolled her eyes.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Quiet,” Rontisil said. “You’ve spoken favorably of him before, Laila. Why now?”
“He displayed courage and zeal on the battlefield, which you cannot say for Aya Ralu. A man who can fight with his hands, and not solely with his words, is a man you ought to keep loyal to you. There is value in him being yours, rather than Kagarani’s or Ralu’s.”
“You’ve heard then,” Rontisil grimaced. “Ralu has nominated him to become a knight. Foolish. Simply performative. Insulting to his officers.”
“It is not performative to Kagarani’s men,” she said. “Nor Ralu’s.” Nor me, she thought. “And do not forget that most think Layos deserved it.”
Her father raised his eyebrow. “It’s not happening. A slave will not be one of my knights.”
“You will knight that man,” she found herself saying.
Rontisil set down his cup as his expression hardened into sharp stone. Bayna’s jaw dropped. “And who are you to command me?”
“One who would see your rule protected by the best men in the world!” Laila said, letting passion into her voice. He’d think it was out of loyalty to him, but it was only in service of her new lover. It disturbed her how eager she was to advocate for him—this mysterious man who had won her heart.
“He could not even best you in a fight,” Rontisil rolled his eyes, turning away, letting the tension ease. “You’re forgetting yourself.”
“Indeed, she is,” Bayna added.
Laila ignored her. “He recognized my scent from when he and I first met, and refused to harm me when he recognized I was his opponent. If today has shown you anything, it is that Na’Vanad is fearless. Can you say the same for all of your Knights?”
“And yet, you may have heard, he did not swing his sword once today.”
“Seeing him poach Layos’s horse was proof enough of his capabilities.” She could sense her tactics needed to shift. “Not to mention Ralu’s stories of him along the campaign to this city, training a whole legion of rogue Midlanders into a formidable vanguard.” The issue had nothing to do with Na’Vanad’s skills—but his freedom. “Your fear of him will hold back your greatness, father.”
His head jerked to face her—the bait had been taken. “My fear? Tread lightly now. My favor for you does not permit disrespect.”
“And my good counsel does not come without harsh truths,” Laila replied with the same tone. He may not have raised her her whole life, but she learned to emulate him, to be him. “Whether or not he is Vakin’s son, he will be an important arbiter of power in the future of your empire. Whoever has him has the advantage. Why should it not be you?”
“And Kagarani’s advantage?” he rolled his eyes. “With that boy?”
“Lord Kagarani survived you today,” Laila said, feeling a lump of emotion at the mention of the man who had taken her in when her mother was killed. “He should have lost half his men. He lost only a few hundred—thanks to Na’Vanad. Could you imagine the things he’d do if he were loyal to you like that? The desert, the mountains, the forests—all under your banners! They’ll raise their children worshiping you because of Na’Vanad. I can see it, Father, can’t you?”
“Ah, here we go,” Bayna grinned with a mocking laugh. “The Kahlist has returned to her witchcraft.”
“Speak truly,” Rontisil said, his voice softening with intrigue. “Why do you vouch so passionately for this slave?” He studied her, “Is this more religious fanaticism? I’ve warned you about the whispers of pious fools. There’s a reason they cling to such stories, Laila. Reality is too harsh for them.”
She smiled placatingly. “The only influence my faith has is in loyalty to my family. Na’Vanad represents a chance to improve our position. Why not take it, father?”
Rontisil appraised her. “And how do I go about bringing a slave into my court?”
“He’ll fit in well,” she said. “If it pleases you, I shall plant the rumors that he is Vakin’s own son, whom you’ve pledged to take in and protect with a knighthood.”
“That would work,” Rontisil mused with a skeptical eye. “How can I be certain of his loyalty?”
“Do you maintain that I am not to marry any nobleman?” she inquired.
“Certainly,” he answered. “It is the punishment of your mother’s traitorous blood. You shall not bear royal children.”
“Then allow me to manipulate him,” she said. “He has a fondness for me, as I’ve relayed to you.”
“And suddenly I wonder if you share that fondness beyond espionage,” he pushed with a knowing eye.
They held each other’s gaze, neither relenting, for a silent moment.
Her father conceded. “Nonetheless, it could do us some good, at minimal cost. Very well, he’ll be knighted, but he will not be treated like the others born of rank and noble birth. Ralu will think it a symbol of my faith in him—a move that will lower his guard.”
“He’s not smart enough to suspect you of moving against him,” Bayna said, growing disinterested at Laila getting her way.
“A man as wealthy as he is should believe everyone is his enemy,” Rontisil said. “Giving him Leislay will prove more disastrous to him than he could imagine.”
Laila bowed thankfully.
“Indeed,” Rontisil glanced back at his daughter, “The Rasper wasn’t even here to defend the city.”
“This, I noticed,” Laila nodded.
“Ralu will be bankrupt trying to hold this city,” Rontisil said. “Even if he succeeds, he’ll lose men and money in a matter of years.”
“If it is not that that does young Ralu in, then conquering the Midanis will be the hardest of any task,” Bayna grinned in agreement. “He’ll die in the eastern desert, and his fortune will be yours, my dear. What then for Kagarani?”
“The slave lover…” Rontisil muttered, “I have half a mind to let him grow old in Katan-Bat—the fool.”
“And risk a revolt?” Bayna asked in shock. “Surviving today shouldn’t mean he’ll live for much longer.”
“Let us see how we progress,” he held Bayna’s jaw in his hand, inspecting her beauty. She was only fourteen years older than Laila, which made her shudder if she dwelt on it. Her own mother was only 18 when she gave birth to her. “If we should need to dispose of him and his merry bunch of slaves, then we shall.”
Laila felt a wave of relief. Loran, you are safe for now. Or close to it.
“How I relish that word, we,” Bayna whispered.
“Leave, Laila,” he said, staring at Bayna like a hungry predator.
Laila stepped out, keen not to hear what they would do next.
Thank all that is holy, she thought, relieved that he agreed to Na’Vanad’s knighthood, and tentatively leave Kagarani be. How close he was to utter failure! Perhaps Layos would have killed him had she not intervened after he fell from his horse. Na’Vanad was well down the hill at that point, riding bravely to his own ascent. She eased, until the sounds of suffering found her ears again, and her eyes turned back to the burning city.
