Jory Lanfear's Arc

Chapter 5 of 7

Jory rode south ahead of the letter, hard. He carried the queen's proof and her leave to use it. But Mordaunt had a start on them, and a man like that did not come to court to plead. Jory feared what the old lord brought with him. At the castle gate he learned the fear was right. Mordaunt had arrived that same hour. He stood in the yard in black, gloved hands at rest. Behind him waited rank on rank of hired soldiers, spears up, shields marked, silent as stone. A purchased army. Jory counted them and his mouth went dry. The queen's guards watched from the wall and did nothing. Nobody wanted to strike first. "You've the letter," Mordaunt said. Not a question. His voice did not rise. "Egan always kept things he should have burned." He looked past Jory to the keep. "The king promised me his daughter. I came to collect. Letters don't unmake a bargain. Men do." Jory held the pages up. "You confessed. In your own hand. Two wives." "I did." Mordaunt did not blink. "And still the king signed. That tells you what the king's word is worth." He nodded at his ranks. "I brought something harder to argue with." Jory had the proof and no force to back it. The letter shook in his grip. He had outrun the danger only to meet a worse one. Then a horn sounded on the ridge road. Jory turned. Down the slope came riders under a banner he knew — his own house colors. At their head rode his sister, Eleri, in mail over the dark velvet she favored, her black hair bound back. Behind her marched fifty armed men in close order, swords drawn, moving like one body. Jory stared. Eleri lived at Rossmore now, wed into the Murrays. He had thought her lost to him. He had never once expected her here, armed, for him. She reined in beside him and looked at Mordaunt's host without flinching. "I heard an old lord came to take a bride by force," she said, flat. "My brother stands against him. So do I." "Why," Jory said. His throat was tight. "You don't owe me this." "No," she agreed. "I came anyway." She did not explain further. Mordaunt measured the new ranks with his gray eyes. His soldiers outnumbered hers. But now the yard held two armed hosts, not one, and the queen's guards had a side to join. The math had changed. Blood would cost him everything, and he knew it. "This is not finished," Mordaunt said. He turned his horse. His men wheeled with him and withdrew through the gate, step by step, spears still high. Jory let out his breath. Eleanor was safe tonight. The letter had bought nothing on its own — his sister's swords had bought the reprieve. And Mordaunt rode off whole, his army intact, promising to come again.