The Steel Queen (The Silk & Steel Saga Book 1) Read online

  “So you are here!”

  The impish grin on Jemma’s face warned Jordan that her sister was up to something. “Are you looking for me?”

  “There’s a page in the sitting room. He has something for you.” With a sly smile, Jemma whispered, “I think it’s something from your prince. Come see.”

  Jordan felt her face flush red. She hated when that happened but she didn’t have any control over it. Following her sister back out into the sitting room, she found a page in the green and white of Lanverness holding a large bundle wrapped in a checkered cloth.

  “Princess Jordan?”

  “Yes.”

  The page bowed, extending the checkered bundle. “Please accept this gift from Prince Stewart.” As Jordan took the bundle, the page added, “The prince requests you join him for dinner this evening. May I take your reply back to him?”

  Feeling her face flame red, Jordan said, “It would be my pleasure.”

  “The prince asks that you meet him at the south gate of the castle at one turn of the hourglass after sunset.”

  “Please tell the prince that I will be there.”

  The page bowed to the two princesses and then left the sitting room. Jemma flashed her a coy smile. “So what did the prince send you?”

  Setting the bundle on the floor, Jordan unwrapped it. Laughing, she uncovered a plain steel shield. Jemma’s puzzled expression made Jordan laugh all the harder. “It’s the shield I left behind when I won the ‘best sword’ competition! He’s returned my shield to me!”

  Jemma leaned forward, fingering the cloth wrapping. “I think the true gift is in the wrapping.”

  Putting the shield aside, Jordan lifted the cloth. The two sisters gasped. Free of the shield, the fabric turned out to be an exquisite cloak. The material was extraordinary, red and blue checks of crushed velvet lined with dark blue lamb's wool. The checked pattern mirrored the background of the banner of Navarre.

  Jemma gave her a knowing smile. “A much better present than a dented old shield. Try it on.”

  Settling the cloak around her shoulders, Jordan was pleased to find that it was just the right length. Soft, supple, and warm, it was the kind of cloak to hug close on a cold winter day. Jordan had never owned anything so luxurious. She beamed a smile at her sister. “What do you think?”

  “Come over to the mirror and see for yourself.”

  Striding to the mirror, Jordan gasped. The reflection showed an elegant warrior princess draped in the colors of Navarre.

  Her sister smiled. “I like this prince of yours. He found a way to give you clothes that perfectly become you. That’s quite a feat for any man. I think you should hold on to this one!”

  Sharing a conspiring smile, Jordan admitted, “He is something, isn’t he?”

  Laughing Jemma said, “We’d better get you out of your practice gear and cleaned up for this evening. It won’t be long until you are supposed to meet the prince.”

  After much debate, Jordan selected the same clothes she’d worn on the night she’d met the prince in the army tavern. The red leather jerkin looked perfect under the checkered cape. A short time later, she found herself following a page to the southern gates of the castle. Dismissing the page with thanks, she rounded the corner surprised to find the prince pacing. He wore the simple boiled leathers of a common soldier under an elegant cape of emerald green. With his broad shoulders and dark wavy hair, the man was definitely a feast for the eyes. Trying to act casual, Jordan walked toward the prince. His eyes lit up when he saw her. Jordan could feel the blood rushing to her face. Running her hand across the soft velvet of the cape, she said, “Thank you. I love it.”

  Smiling, the prince replied, “It suits you.”

  Laughing, she added, “And thank you for returning my shield.”

  He grinned. “It proved such a valuable weapon in the sparring ring that I didn’t want you to be without it.”

  For a moment, they stood still, lost in each other’s eyes. Suddenly shy, Jordan broke the spell by asking, “So where are we going for dinner?”

  “Come, I’ll show you. I have a table reserved at the Bear’s Den.”

  Walking in step, they threaded their way through the lantern lit streets. Small crowds wandered the cobblestone lanes, the pace of the city slowed from commerce to supper and songs. They fell into a light conversation, walking close but not quite touching. Cloaked in the warmth of Stewart’s company, Jordan lost track of the twists and turns. Rounding a corner into a blind alleyway, she was surprised when they stopped in front of a jumbled hodge-podge of small buildings connected without rhyme or reason. A wooden sign over the door proclaimed the name of the establishment as the ‘Bear’s Den’.

  Stewart laughed, “Don’t worry, it looks odd on the outside but the jumbled buildings are the secret to the charm of the inside. There’s no place else like it in Pellanor. Come and see.”

  Jordan soon found the ‘Bear’s Den’ was not like any other pub or tavern. Instead of one large common room, the place was a rabbit warren of small chambers and mismatched passageways flooded with the savory smells of soups and stews. A servant led them through a maze of wooden hallways to a small table nestled next to a window looking out onto the streets of Pellanor. The unplanned tour gave Jordan a chance to see why the ‘Bear’s Den’ was so unique. The strange jumble of buildings created lots of nooks and crannies, giving individual tables plenty of privacy. Most of the tables were filled with young couples enjoying that rare combination of privacy in a public place. A contented, mellow feeling flowed through the hallways. Jordan liked the place immediately.

  Taking seats at the table, the prince said, “I suggest we order while we have this young lady’s attention. The fare here is simple but excellent. Their specialties are stews of almost any description. I’m partial to the lamb stew myself but I’m sure that they can make any type you like.”

  Fish stew was one of Jordan’s favorites, but she decided to try the lamb. They ordered a small cauldron of lamb’s stew along with a loaf of crusty bread and mugs of mulled cider. When the servant girl left with their order, Stewart said, “I didn’t mean to rush you, but part of the charm of the Bear’s Den is that the guests are given their privacy. Except to deliver our meal, we won’t see any of the servers for a while.” Pausing he added, “So what do you think of the place?”

  “It’s such rabbit warren that I wouldn’t be surprised if people got lost in here.” Emboldened by the casual intimacy, she added, “Then again, it seems the type of place where it might be fun to get lost.” Pausing, she added, “Do you come here often?”

  It was Stewart’s turn to blush, “No, not often. It takes the right type of company for the magic of this place to work.”

  Jordan tucked her short sandy hair back behind her ear, trying to hide her pleasure. To cover the sudden awkwardness, she made a comment about one of the defensive moves they’d practiced. The conversation soon turned to a debate about the different philosophies of training armies.

  Caught up in the conversation, Jordan was surprised when the serving girl showed up with their supper. Setting large mugs of cider on the table, the girl served generous ladles of the thick stew into ceramic bowls. The crusty bread was warm from the oven and the stew gave off a rich salty smell that made Jordan’s mouth water. The stew tasted even better than it smelled. When they were well into their second serving, Jordan said, “You seemed a bit distracted at practice today.”

  Stewart stared at her as if trying to decide whether to answer. With a sigh he said, “Yes. I had dinner with the queen the other night. Mother wants me to attend her weekly council meetings, but I prefer to spend my time in the sparring yard.” He stared down into his bowl, a rueful look on his face. “I thought I had a choice but the queen made it a command.”

  “A seat on the council will give you more of a chance to contribute.”

  The prince shook his head. “Wading through ledgers of numbers and juggling politics is not for me. I prefer to hold
a sword in my hand.”

  Jordan was puzzled. “But you’re the crown prince. The queen is inviting you to train for the throne. What could be wrong with that?”

  Frustration broke across Stewart’s face. “You don’t understand. No one could ever take the place of the queen. She finds a way to grow the wealth of Lanverness every year. I’m not just talking about the wealth of the royal treasury. New businesses flourish in Lanverness and the farms of the countryside are profitable as well. With mother on the throne, the common people have a standard of living that is the envy of Erdhe.” Lowering his voice, the prince added, “I don’t have the head for business that mother has. I could never serve the kingdom the way she does. My talents run to the sword not multiplying golds.”

  “So will you give up the throne in favor of your younger brother?”

  “No!” Flushed with anger, the prince said, “Not Danly. Never Danly.”

  His vehemence startled her. Not knowing the younger prince, she stared at Stewart with a puzzled gaze, waiting for an explanation.

  The prince parried her gaze with a shake of his head. “I’ve already said too much. It’s enough to say that Danly is not suited to the throne.” Stewart turned his attention to the remains of his stew. They finished the meal in an uncomfortable silence.

  Jordan studied Stewart. The issues of succession were so different in their two kingdoms. Trying to ease the tension between them, she said, “I think I understand. Because the queen is such an excellent monarch, you believe there is only one way to rule. The queen rules by the purse so you think the future king must also rule by wealth, but that is a very narrow and destructive way of thinking.” Stewart stared into his mug of cider, a stubborn look on his face, but Jordan would not give up. “In Navarre we look at the crown differently. To have rulers that are all the same is to invite stagnation. Instead, the heirs of Navarre are encouraged to pursue their own interests so that a fresh outlook is always brought to the throne, allowing the kingdom to constantly grow in different directions. One ruler develops the merchant fleet, the next builds the wealth of the treasury, and the next strengthens the army and so on.” Jordan paused to study the prince. He stared back at her as if absorbing every word. “Your royal mother could sit the throne for another thirty years. Imagine what the wealth of Lanverness will be like at the end of her reign.” Jordan dropped her voice to a whisper. “The queen multiplies the wealth of her kingdom each year but she neglects the army. It doesn’t take a crystal ball to see that your wealth will far outstrip your swords. When that happens, Lanverness will be a tempting target for foreign powers. If you accept this seat on your mother’s council, then you may be able to bring some balance back to Lanverness.” Leaning forward, Jordan whispered, “Don’t you see? Your talents serve the kingdom in ways that the queen never could. Gold is not the only measure of a kingdom’s wealth.” Reaching across the table, she put her hand on his. “Believe in yourself. Don’t underestimate the value of your own talents.”

  He sat in thoughtful silence, his gaze turned inward. Jordan could tell that he was weighing every word. Having seen the way he adapted his thinking in the sparring ring, she hoped he was capable of making the same leap without a sword in his hand. Withdrawing her hand, she gave him the time to think.

  Eventually his eyes looked outward again. With a touch of wonder in his voice he said, “You look at things so differently, yet your words make sense.” In a thoughtful voice he added, “Mother is always saying that the rulers of Navarre show an uncommon wisdom. Now I understand why.”

  Blushing, Jordan looked away.

  Stewart leaned forward, his voice earnest. “So, do you seek to wear the crown of Navarre? Would you be a warrior queen?”

  Jordan caught her breath. She should have expected the question, yet it caught her off guard. In a measured voice, she replied, “If the king and the council ask me to accept the crown then I will not refuse. I wish to serve Navarre to the best of my abilities…but I would prefer the crown did not pass to me.”

  “What? You urge me to accept the Rose Crown yet you would pass on the throne of Navarre. Why?”

  “The king and council choose the heir whose talents, skills, and temperament best fit the needs of the kingdom at the time. My talents lie with the sword. If the council chooses me then it means they foresee war. I would not have war come to the kingdom of Navarre and so I hope the crown passes to one of my siblings.”

  Stewart whispered, “A crown would sit well on your head.”

  Jordan felt her face flame red.

  In a lighter voice, he asked, “So which of your siblings would you see on the throne?”

  Without having to think, Jordan answered, “Jemma, or Justin…or perhaps Juliana.”

  Shock filled Stewart’s face. “A bard? Nothing against your brother, but would you truly choose a bard to wear the crown of Navarre?”

  “You’re showing your narrow mindedness again! Why not a bard? Navarre has never had a bard for a ruler. It would be interesting to see what Justin could do from the throne.” Noting Stewart’s puzzled expression, she explained, “Justin is very insightful. He has an uncanny ability to touch people from all walks of life. Remember, in Navarre we value different ways of looking at things. Personally, I would like to see how Justin would change the kingdom. I am sure Navarre would be the richer for his rule.”

  “I would never have looked at it that way.” Pausing he added, “It is much easier to see why Jemma would make a good queen. She reminds me of my royal mother. But what is this other sister, Juliana, like?”

  “Mother always says that Juliana fell in love with the sea the first moment she spied the ocean. Juliana is a sailor, training to captain her own merchant vessel. She loves the ocean and she loves to travel, but only if she can get there by sea. We’re always kidding that she must have been a dolphin in a past life.”

  “So why would you see her on the throne?”

  “Juliana has an inquisitive mind and she’s also very shrewd. Always visiting distant ports of call, she brings fresh ideas from foreign places. She sees things that we take for granted in a different light.” Looking at Stewart’s puzzled face, Jordan had to laugh. “I guess it all comes back to the same thing, valuing the fresh perspective and wanting to grow the kingdom in a different way.”

  Easing back in his chair, Stewart gave her a deep smile. “I’m not sure what to make of your sister who is part dolphin, but I like the way you think. Lanverness could learn a lot from the kingdom of Navarre.” His hand covered hers. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Before Jordan could do more than blush, the servant girl interrupted to see if they wanted anything else. Finished with the meal, Stewart paid the bill and they followed the girl back to the entrance of the tavern. On the walk back to the castle, Stewart asked more questions about her siblings and about her life in Navarre. He seemed to be interested in everything. He was an easy man to talk to. When they reached the castle gates, Jordan expected him to bid her a goodnight but Stewart escorted her to the wing of the castle. Their steps slowed but it did not seem to take long to reach their destination. Pausing at the start of the hallway to her quarters, Jordan asked, “So will you accept the seat on the queen’s council?”

  “Yes, it seems you women have won again,” but despite his words, his voice was light in capitulation. “I’ll do my best to learn from the queen but I’ll also remember to value my own talents.” Leaning close, he added, “I’ll take your advice and try to remember to value the different perspective.”

  Jordan held his gaze till a slow heat crept across her face. Looking down, she murmured, “Thank you again for the cloak…and for this evening. The Bear’s Den was perfect.”

  “I hope you’ll join me there for many more evenings… and teach me to see the world from Navarre’s perspective.” He moved close, staring down at her.

  Jordan met his stare, her unruly hair falling across her face. He reached out with one finger and gently brushed the wayward lock back
behind her left ear. His gaze intent, he leaned forward. Jordan held her breath. Stewart closed his eyes and lightly brushed his lips against hers. She kissed him back. She kissed him more than once. Later that night, she could not remember walking back to her room…but she remembered every other detail of the evening. Brushing her hair behind her ears, Jordan wished she’d chosen Pellanor for her Wayfaring instead of the Kiralynn monks.

  38

  Steffan

  Everything was proceeding according to the Dark Lord’s plan. The Pontifax and the Keeper of the Flame both benefited from Steffan’s advice, benefits that took the form of enhanced power, extended influence, and increased golds. Given ample proof of the Lord Raven’s value, the Enlightened One appointed Steffan to the newly created position of counselor to the Pontifax. A special ceremony of investiture was held in the temple of the Flame where the Lord Raven was presented to the people of Coronth.

  Under the guise of humility, Steffan declined the gaudy robes and jewels worn by the temple rulers, preferring to keep to his elegant clothes of black trimmed with crimson; clothes conducive to working in shadows. A gold signet ring inscribed with the Flame was the sole symbol of his office.

  Standing in the background, Steffan watched while the Pontifax and the Keeper basked in the adoration of the masses. Always working from the shadows, Steffan whispered advice in the ear of the Pontifax, wielding influence from behind the throne. As the third most powerful man in the theocracy of Coronth, Steffan was perfectly positioned to do the work of the Dark Lord.