Page 47 of Among the Burning Flowers
‘I would shame the Knight of Courage if I did otherwise,’ Aubrecht said, soft and firm. ‘If any of our theories on this matter have even touched on the truth, Marosa could be in mortal danger. Regardless of the reasons Sigoso sent this letter, I must go to her.’
‘No.’ Ermuna snapped up, her face turning white. ‘Aubrecht. You can’t.’
‘Aubrecht,’ Aleidine intervened, ‘I really didn’t mean for you to—’
‘—act like a fool?’ Gaspart said. ‘Brecht, with the greatest respect for your mettle, you are no match for a wyrm. Only a select few royals have ever been known for that sort of thing.’
‘Glorian Shieldheart would have gone,’ Aubrecht said, with conviction. ‘So would Lady Kathel.’
‘You arenotGlorian Shieldheart.’ Liuthe planted her cane on the floor and stood, brushing off the servants who moved to support her. ‘Aubrecht, I know you care for Marosa – I loved Edvart from the first day I laid eyes on him – but this is folly. Let the intelligencers go first.’
‘She is not only my betrothed, Aunt Liuthe. She is your future High Princess, the future Queen of Yscalin, and heir presumptive to the Ersyr.’
‘And you areourheir.’
‘Marosa is my friend as well as my betrothed. I may not yet have formally vowed to protect her, but the Saint knows I must, to be worthy of her,’ he said, passion lifting his voice. ‘She has lived in that dark tower for years, unable to see beyond it. I willnotabandon her there.’
There was another silence. Aubrecht looked between their uneasy faces, his chest tight with frustration.
His family did not believe he was capable of it. Perhaps they were right. They must still think of him as the sanctarian, the spare. But if Marosa was in danger, he wanted to be the first one she saw from any party that went to her rescue, so she would know that she was safe.
‘Prince Aubrecht,’ Lady Sennera said, ‘Cárscaro is not lightly entered, nor escaped. If I believed it were possible, I would be returning now, to join my daughter and companion. As you know, there is but one path to the city, from the Great Yscali Plain, where there is no cover for leagues. If a wyrmhasawakened there – Saint forbid – then you would be seen at once. Even if you were to bring the entire army of Mentendon, large or small though it may be, you would have no hope of reaching the Donmata.’
‘Then we approach from behind,’ Aubrecht told her. ‘From the east.’
‘Through the mountains?’
‘Yes, Your Excellency. There is an ancient bridle path through the Spindles that leads almost directly into Cárscaro. The Gulthaganians used it to move Yscali copper to their own city, and later to send their warriors into the Ersyr, when they laid siege to Rauca.’
From the look on her face, this was news to her. Aubrecht wondered if even King Sigoso knew.
‘The Pass of the Imperator is treacherous, but navigable in the warm months. I could hire a small group of mercenaries and depart with them from Svartal,’ he said. ‘Should we find that the Cárscari have been coerced, we will extract the Donmata Marosa, Sir Robrecht Teldan, and your daughter, Lady Priessa, with all haste. I am certain there will be a way.’
Lady Sennera seemed lost for words, while Aleidine nodded her gratitude. Sir Robrecht was her uncle, a man in his late seventies. He loved Yscalin so much that he had never wanted to retire from his position there. Now his knowledge of its court might prove invaluable.
‘Thank you, Your Highness,’ Lady Sennera eventually said. ‘And … my companion, Lord Gastaldo?’
‘If we can.’ Aubrecht looked at her. ‘If he is not complicit.’
Gaspart drained his glass of wine.
Ermuna was uncharacteristically silent, as if she feared the lightest sound might cause him to leave. Her entire body was rigid, her fingers tightly interlocked under her breastbone. The sight pierced him with shame. She looked as petrified as if she was fifteen again.
‘Yes. Look at your sister,’ Liuthe ordered him. ‘Look at how afraid she is, Aubrecht. How will Bette and Bedona feel when I tell them their brother has left them to go on a fool’s errand?’
‘I am not—’ Ermuna cut herself off, sweat on her face. ‘Not afraid. I only—’
‘No. I forbid this,’ Liuthe told Aubrecht. ‘I have lost too many relatives. The man I loved and his siblings. My daughter. I will not lose my nephew as well. I will tell the Royal Guard to confine you if I must. You are not High Prince of Mentendon just yet, Aubrecht Lievelyn.’
Aubrecht clenched his jaw. Once again, he was to be treated like a naïve boy, and not a man.
But as he locked eyes with his aunt, he saw the agony, the fear, and it shattered him. Even a peaceful animal would scratch or peck as a last resort, and his aunt was a swan to her bones.
‘Very well. I will give our scouts time to establish the truth,’ he said quietly. ‘But Iwillorganise the mercenaries and see the party off from Svartal. I must know that Marosa is alive and well.’
‘Do you know any mercenaries, Brecht?’ Gaspart enquired. ‘I ask in absolute earnest.’
‘I am the Red Prince of Mentendon. Surely I can find some.’ Aubrecht offered Liuthe a bow. ‘Forgive my folly, Aunt, and the distress I caused you. I ask for permission to go at once, so I might speak to the Margrave of Svartal. I believe she may be able to help.’
