Page 38 of The Maiden

People hissed at him and looked back at Rowan as he waited for silence.

“The Lanconian people must become one,” Rowan said softly, and the people leaned forward to hear him.

He told of his plan to unite the tribes through marriage, then, before anyone could ask a question, he asked for volunteers, brave young men and women who were willing not to die for their tribe but to live for it. He grinned and asked what noble souls were willing to sacrifice all and marry some of those tall, beautiful, nubile, young, healthy Vatells?

Jura and Geralt were almost trampled in the stampede of young people who ran forward to volunteer themselves. Jura stood where she was, overwhelmed by the persuasiveness of Rowan’s speech.

Not so Geralt. He pushed his way forward to stand before the crowd.

“Do you send your children to be slaughtered?” he bellowed. “This Englishman knows nothing of our ways. He will lead you to your deaths. The Vatells will slaughter the Irials.”

Jura watched in horror as Rowan’s three knights attacked Geralt and knocked him to the ground. Jura reacted instantly, as did Xante and two other guardsmen.

Jura grabbed the hair of Neile and put her knife to his throat. “Unhand him,” she said, and pressed the knife into his skin so that a trickle of blood ran into his collar. Neile released Geralt and began to stand upright. The other English knights also released their hold on Geralt.

The crowd had stopped to watch this new spectacle.

Furious, Rowan came down from his bench to stand beside Jura. “Release him,” he said to her.

“He attacked my brother,” Jura said. “I should slit his throat.”

Neile, being held by a woman, was too humiliated to speak.

Watelin shook off Xante’s grip on him. “What he said was traitorous.”

Rowan clutched Jura’s forearm hard until she released Neile, then he pulled her toward a stone lean-to where they could be private.

“Why?” he asked. “Why did you ruin what I had to say? The people listened to me. You are my wife, man’s helpmate, yet you thwart me at every turn.”

“Me?” she gasped. “It was your men who attacked my brother. Was I supposed to stand by and let them tear him apart?”

“I am your king, and when I am attacked it is treason,” he said with patience.

“Treason?” she said, eyes wide. “In Lanconia you have to earn kingship. Thal appointed you but we can pull you down. We aren’t like your stupid Englishmen who accept the son of the king even if he is a drooling idiot. Geralt has every right to speak, as does any man, but Geralt especially, since he is just as much Thal’s son as you are. Besides, he was right in what he said.”

“The Irials are ready to follow me,” Rowan said. “Is it that you and your brother do not want me to succeed? Is that it? If I fail to unite the tribes, the people might want your war-loving brother on the throne. Is that why you work for my downfall?”

“You pompous, overbearing fool,” she shouted at him. “Everyone wants you to succeed, but those of us who live here know it cannot be done. The Irials listen to you, oh yes, you make a pretty speech, you almost had me wanting to marry a Vatell, but if you ride to Brita with those young civilians, she will rub her hands with glee—and slaughter all of them. She would love to weaken the Irials enough to be able to take their land. She needs our croplands.”

“Then I will ride to her alone,” Rowan said. “I will talk to this Brita alone.”

“And she will hold you for ransom, and to get you back we will have to pay dearly.”

Rowan leaned forward, nose to nose. “Then don’t pay the ransom. If I am held captive, consider that I have not earned my kingship.”

“And let a Vatell hold our king?” Jura shouted back at him. “We will wipe out the Vatells for such an insult. We will—”

She broke off because Rowan kissed her. He could think of no other way to make her be quiet, and Jura responded with all the energy she had built up in her anger at him.

His big hand caught the back of her head and turned her head around to give him better access to her lips, and he kissed her passionately, deeply.

“Do not fight me, Jura,” he said against her cheek. “Be my wife. Stand by me.”

She pushed away from him. “If being your wife means standing to one side while you lead my people into slaughter, then I will die first.”

Rowan straightened. “I have a task given to me by my father and I mean to fulfill it. You may think war is the only way to solve this problem, but there are other ways also. I just pray that these Irials get more from their marriages than I have.” He turned to leave.

“No!” she said, catching his arm. “I beg you, do not go through with this. The people trust you. I saw their eyes and they will follow you. Do not lead them to their deaths.”