The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [111]
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Emily said.
“On the contrary,” Anne said, “you should have told me that long ago. And so I think now you should tell me anything else you might have failed to mention, or I might become very, very cross. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Majesty.”
Anne stood on the battlements of the south tower again the next morning, clad in a suit of black plate trimmed with gold. She left the helm off so that she could see better.
The view was wonderful. Directly below her was the Yaner Gravigh, the northernmost canal of Newland, hewing from east to west. A wall four kingsyards high stood on the southern birm and went off beyond sight in either direction.
Beyond were the vast downs of Andemuer, gently rolling hills tilled and terraced by a hundred generations of plowmen.
The host of Hansa was a bit of an eyesore, but at the moment, even that was beautiful to her because for almost a league the canal was clogged with their wrecked and burning boats.
They had come before dawn, dragging light watercraft from behind the hills. In a few places they had tried to float bridges, but those had fared no better. Artwair reckoned that more than three thousand Hansans had been slaughtered in the attempt, falling to siege engines and archers massed upon the birm wall.
The cost to Crotheny could be counted on a pair of hands.
“You sent for me, Majesty?”
Anne didn’t turn, but she nodded. “Good morning, Cape Chavel.”
“A glorious victory,” he ventured.
“I’m very pleased,” Anne said. “Of course, they’ll try again tomorrow, two leagues upstream.”
“Why not farther?” he asked. “I understand they need to reduce Poelscild, but why try to cross here, under our engines?”
“More than two leagues upstream the ground around the river gets low and swampy, or so they tell me,” Anne replied, “and beyond that they would have the Dew to reckon with. South, we’ve flooded the poelen nearest the canal, so they would cross it only to find a lake.”
“But the force coming on the Warlock—”
“You’ll meet them,” Anne said. “You, Kenwulf, and Cathond and his light horse. You’ll stop them, won’t you?”
“Yes, Majesty.”
“Cape Chavel?”
“Yes, Majesty?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re third in line for the Virgenyan throne?”
For a moment he just stood stupidly. Then he clasped his hands behind his back.
“Ah,” he said. “You’ve been checking up on me.”
“No,” Anne replied. “Emily let slip that your uncle is Charles. Once that was out, I made her tell me everything. She mentioned, for instance, that you actually came here to propose marriage.”
She leveled her gaze on him.
“Yes,” he replied, looking abashed. “Yes, that is the case.”
“I don’t like being deceived,” Anne said. “Explain yourself, please.”
The earl tilted his head apologetically. “My uncle sent that insulting delegation as a negotiation,” he said. “He reckoned you would be desperate, and his lack of respect would make you more so. My role was to offer a marriage in return for the troops you’ve requested.”
“So you’ve lied about several things. You didn’t come here to fight for me.”
“No,” he said, “but I decided to the moment you spoke. You were right, and my uncle was wrong. I was too ashamed of my original mission to mention it to you, and the only deception I’ve engaged in has been to prevent that shame from being exposed. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Your Majesty.”
Anne nodded, not quite sure what she should feel.
“If you had made the proposal—and if I had accepted—would your uncle have sent troops?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, to tell you the truth.”
“Well, let’s find out,” Anne said. “Send word that you’ve made your proposal and I received it favorably. Court me, and I will discover what sort of man your uncle really is.”
“You’re going to answer one lie with another?” the earl asked.
“It’s the same lie,” Anne said. “I just want to expose the whole thing. Anyway, would it be so difficult for you to feign interest? I know I’m not the most beautiful of women, but I am the queen.”
Cape Chavel’s eyebrows went up “I have no need to feign