The Towers of the Sunset - L. E. Modesitt [119]
Hyel’s eyes flicker from Creslin to Megaera, who has remained slightly behind Creslin’s shoulder, almost as if in a shadow of her own making. “Do you think this is wise, lady?”
Megaera shrugs. “Wisdom comes after survival, Guard Captain. Without . . . the Storm Wizard here, and the troops he is calling in, you would be dead in less than a season.”
Hyel takes a deep breath. “This all . . . will take some getting used to.”
“You’d better start quickly,” observes Megaera tartly. “Zarlen wouldn’t have lasted against a Westwind guard much longer than he did against Creslin.”
“But my men, building quarters—”
“Don’t worry. The newer guards will have plenty of building projects as well. We need an inn by the harbor.”
“An inn?” Both Megaera and Hyel look at Creslin.
“Why not?” Creslin grins. “We will have visitors. We might as well separate them from their coins legitimately. And a public room, controlled by a few trustworthy guards, might be worthwhile for everyone.”
“Couldn’t some of the guards start on that now?” asks Hyel.
Creslin purses his lips, frowns, then shrugs. “I don’t see why not, but first we’ll need to see if Klerris can draw up some rough plans.”
“Does it have to be all that big?” Megaera asks. “Couldn’t you plan it so that we could build it bigger later?”
“Well, the public room . . .”
Hyel nods. “Better to build that pretty big to begin with.”
Creslin clears his throat. “There’s one other thing.”
The half-smile fades from Hyel’s face. “Yes?”
“I’m going to spend part of each morning training your men and part of the morning teaching you the conditioning routines.”
“If you’re replacing us with—”
“Hyel,” snaps Creslin, “I’m not replacing anyone. Before this is over, we’re going to need every single person on this isle who can wield a blade. Besides, I don’t want to see another Westwind, where all of the arms are controlled by women. And Megaera doesn’t want to see someplace like Montgren or Fairhaven, where women are regarded as inferiors. But the only way there’s likely to be equality around here is if your men are actually good enough to command respect.” Creslin stares at the tall man.
Hyel takes a half-step backward.
“That includes you as well,” Creslin adds. “I’ll be here early tomorrow to tell your men what I just told you.”
“I would appreciate that.” Hyel wipes his forehead.
Creslin nods and turns, walking toward the open doorway.
Megaera smiles brightly, falsely, at Hyel, who retreats another half-step.
Outside, Megaera steps up beside Creslin. “Best-betrothed, how are you going to do all of this?”
Creslin smiles. “I’m not. You’re the co-regent. I thought that you could supervise either the harbor projects or those here at the keep. Klerris is going to work on the orchards and the plants, but I want him to teach both of us how.”
She shakes her head, and the flame-red strands fly out against the wind. “You intend to build a kingdom overnight to challenge Fairhaven?”
“No. Recluce won’t challenge any country. We just won’t be challenged.”
“You mean that. You really mean that.” Megaera ponders for a moment, glancing from the empty pier to the small keep and the small cot they so uneasily share. When she looks up, she sees that Creslin’s quick strides have taken him toward the gnarled orchard on the hillside above the keep.
A faint smile crosses her lips.
Below, in the harbor, a fishing boat beats in toward the pier, and sea gulls circle the single mast, hoping for an easy meal. Two women push a cart down the dusty road to off-load the fish for gutting and drying on the hillside frames under the old nets that hold off the birds, or most of them.
Megaera looks back toward the hillside where Creslin stands by the wall next to the orchard of gnarled pearapples. She shakes her head again, but this time the gesture holds a wistful sadness.
LXXVI
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