A Brother's Price (11 page)

‘‘And you’re already in love with him.’’ The look was stone-cold now.

Ren closed her eyes, hoping her mother would not deny the suit based on that alone. ‘‘Yes, I believe so.’’

‘‘And what does Odelia think of this wonderment?

Did she meet him? Kiss him?’’

‘‘She lay in bed an extra day in hopes he would come nurse her through. I don’t think she managed to obtain a kiss; I think she would have gone on at great length if she had.’’

‘‘I see.’’

‘‘Please, Mother, let us consider him. He is almost sure to throw healthy children with good chances for a boy or two. He would certainly be a good father. His royal blood balances the thieving soldiers turned landed gentry. He seems to have the strength of will to be the royal husband—he can resist temptation and do the right thing. He is beautiful—very, very beautiful.’’

‘‘Let me consider.’’

With the statement, Ren fell silent. Any further ar-
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guing would only damage her cause. After that royal decree, one could only retreat, wait, and hope. Queen Mother Elder gave her verdict later that night.

‘‘If your sisters agree, you can marry him. I will send for him, on pretense of a reward for saving your sister. There is no need to taunt his family with hopes of a match that might not come about.’’

‘‘Thank you, Mother.’’

‘‘Rider! There’s a rider coming in!’’

The call echoed over the farm. Jerin came to the kitchen door to see the solitary rider coming up the lane. His youngest sisters and little brothers stopped their game of ‘‘recon’’ to stare out toward the road. Middle and elder sisters came drifting out of the barns and outbuildings. Before the rider had reached the bottom of the hill, Heria picked up Kai, took Liam by the hand, and started toward Jerin. Doric followed reluctantly, throwing curious glances over his shoulder. Eldest went into the house via the front door and came back out wearing her pistols.

Princess Ren’s captain of the guard, Raven Tern, cantered her horse up to the beaten dirt of the barnyard. She pulled her horse to a halt before Eldest. ‘‘Eldest Whistler, greetings to you.’’

‘‘Greetings to you, Captain.’’

‘‘I carry a message to you and your sisters from the Queens.’’

Eldest took the message with a trembling hand, broke the seal, and read it. When she reached the end, she took a deep breath, and tension went from her. ‘‘I’ll have to talk to my sisters about this. Birdie will help you stable your horse. You’re welcome to dinner and to spend the night.’’

‘‘Thank you. I’d like that.’’ Captain Tern dismounted.

‘‘If you decide to accept, I’m to provide escort.’’

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Eldest looked surprised, then schooled her emotion.

‘‘That would be an honor.’’ Eldest signaled to Corelle.

‘‘Show her where she can put her things, and get washed up for dinner.’’

Corelle led Captain Tern off, clearly annoyed that she’d be the last to learn what the Queens’ letter had to say. No sooner than Captain Tern was out of sight did the rest of the family gather around Eldest.

‘‘What does it say? What does it say? Are we getting knighted?’’ The youngest bounced in place from excitement.

Jerin clasped his hands together hard in order not to tear the letter from Eldest. The letter was good news—

that much was clear from Eldest’s relief—and Captain Tern was going to act as an escort, so someone was going to Mayfair. Suddenly his heart was like a caged wild bird, beating madly against his ribs, crying, ‘‘Ren!

Ren! Ren!’’

Eldest held up her hand, signaling for silence. ‘‘The Queens send thanks for saving the princess Odelia’s life,’’ she started, once her gathered family fell quiet,

‘‘and as a token of their thanks, they’ve invited us to bring Jerin out at the capital. Jerin and I, and one or two others, would stay at the palace and be sponsored by the Queens.’’ Eldest was shouting now to be heard.

‘‘It would allow us to meet the most influential families in Queensland, and thus make the best possible trade of brothers.’’

As his sisters whooped and hollered, Jerin stood, stunned silent, hands clasped so tight they were white. Eldest caught sight of him, and sobered. ‘‘Get ready for dinner,’’ she told everyone. ‘‘Remember we’ve got company. Go on!’’ As she spoke, she caught Jerin’s shoulder and guided him away. ‘‘Are you all right?’’

‘‘I don’t know.’’ Jerin felt a strange hollowness in his chest, as if that wild bird of his heart had burst out, leaving nothing behind. ‘‘For a minute there, I thought that maybe Princess Ren was sending for me.’’

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Eldest cursed softly. ‘‘Oh, Jerin.’’ She looked down at the letter still in her hand. ‘‘This is a shining coin, Jerin. You’d be presented as an equal to all the nobles in the land. We could never match this again. If we refuse this, we only have common country bumpkins, the likes of the Brindles, to choose from.’’

‘‘Holy Mothers, no!’’ Then, fearing she misunderstood, he caught her wrist and said as clearly as possible,

‘‘I do not want to marry the Brindles! I hate them!

They’re like rabid dogs!’’

‘‘I wouldn’t give you up to someone who would hurt you.’’

‘‘They might not turn on me, but it’s nearly a sure thing that I’d have to watch my children grow up to be just as mean. People are saying Balin tumbled his mothers to father his sisters. It’s not like the Brindles would tell us, if it was the truth; we’d have to wait until after the marriages to know for sure, and then it would be too late, at least for me. Besides, they say apples only come from apple trees; the family might have practiced incest for generations now. They all could be inbred monsters.’’

A smile quirked onto Eldest’s mouth. ‘‘Well, it would explain why they’re all so gods-awful ugly.’’

‘‘Eldest, please, please, don’t make me marry them!’’

‘‘I’m not asking you to. We’re invited to the palace, remember?’’ Eldest rumpled his hair. ‘‘Quite frankly, Jerin, I’d rather marry a pig than Balin Brindle. I don’t understand what Corelle sees in him. He’s a smug, ugly little thing, and his sisters have always made my skin crawl. I’d hate to have a houseful of children that looked like them.’’

Jerin giggled.

Eldest held up the Queens’ letter. ‘‘Will you do this?’’

‘‘It’s not like I don’t want to marry. I just want to be picky!’’ He winced as he realized he was whining. He tried a more adult tone. ‘‘I want a family of clean breeding, one that doesn’t fight, well, at least no more than
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we do, and—and ten to fifteen wives at the most. None of this thirty wives or more! Mothers above, I’d feel like a whore! I’d have a different woman every night for a month mounting me.’’

She laughed a moment, then gazed sadly at him. ‘‘I hadn’t thought of the Brindles in quite that way. I’m glad that we’re able to afford more than one husband. I’d hate it if I had to wait a whole month for one night of pleasure, and only twelve chances a year to catch a baby. Years go quickly when measured in twelve days. I don’t have many years left before my time of change comes.’’

‘‘I didn’t think you’d like having babies.’’

Eldest shrugged. ‘‘I’d like to have at least one, to see what it was like. Our mothers seemed so miserable pregnant—puking in the morning, bloated up like something dead left in the sun too long, and waddling around like a force-fed goose.’’ After the birth of thirty siblings, Eldest could mimic the walk quite well, making Jerin giggle. ‘‘I don’t know why anyone would want to live through it. Yet, at times, it seems like that’s when they were the happiest. They’d get that smug, satisfied smile, and practically glow.’’ She reflected a moment, and then nodded. ‘‘I think one baby will be enough to leave me content, more than happy for my sisters to bear the rest.’’

They fell silent.

Eldest took out the letter and read it silently once more. ‘‘It’s a shining coin, tossed up in the air for us, and all we have to do is reach out and catch it.’’

‘‘Let’s catch it, then.’’

Surprisingly, Captain Tern came down for dinner in her dress uniform, boots polished to a gleam, her chest covered with medals. Tucked under one arm, she carried a long leather case that the Whistlers had missed in their excitement for the letter.

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She spoke quietly with Eldest, who nodded soberly, then called the family to standing attention.

‘‘Heria.’’ Eldest motioned for her to come forward.

‘‘Me?’’ Heria startled and, with a worried frown, pushed back her chair to come around the table to where Eldest and Raven stood.

Captain Tern snapped open the catches of the case, opened the lid, and held it out to Heria. ‘‘Their Royal Majesties, Queen Mother Elder and her royal sisters, have charged me this duty. As a duly appointed representative of their royal will, I present this gift to you in thanks for saving Princess Odelia. Please accept this honor for your selfless courage.’’

‘‘Holy Mothers!’’ Heria’s eyes went round in surprise, and she whispered, ‘‘They’re beautiful!’’

She took the case and turned so her family could see. An engraved rifle and matching pistols lay in the case, each in a compartment lined with velvet. There was a moment of stunned silence, and then a roar of approval. After several minutes, Eldest called for order, had Heria put up the gun case, and commanded the family to dinner. Everyone sat, but, with the exception of baby Kai and little Liam, ignored the food, gazing expectantly at Eldest and Raven.

Eldest broached the subject as it became apparent that no one was going to eat until the course of the future was plotted. ‘‘I’ve talked to my sisters. We’re going to accept the Queens’ offer. We haven’t decided who will go.’’

This triggered cries of ‘‘Take me, take me’’ from all the youngest. The middle sisters looked silently wistful, except for a sullen Corelle, who was still in extreme disfavor and unlikely to go.

‘‘We haven’t decided,’’ Eldest repeated firmly. ‘‘We expect our mothers any day. I would feel better if they were here before I left with any of my sisters. I’m leery of leaving the farm shorthanded of adults.’’

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Captain Tern nodded. ‘‘I have business in Heron Landing. We’re still trying to find the Prophets. I’m checking back with the Queens Justice to see if any more information has surfaced on the thieves.’’ Raven glanced meaningfully to Jerin. ‘‘I thought you would need a few days before sending your brother out to be married.’’

With a sudden ring of silver on china, Doric dropped his fork on his plate. ‘‘Jerin won’t be coming back, will he? Once he goes off to get married?’’

‘‘I’ll be back,’’ Jerin said with careful cheerfulness. ‘‘It will be just like our cousins. You’ll see me from time to time.’’

‘‘I don’t want Jerin to go away like Papa did!’’ Bunny, the littlest of the youngest sisters, suddenly wailed.

‘‘Papa died, honey.’’ Jerin reached across the table to pat her. ‘‘I’m not going to die. I’m just going to live at someone else’s house.’’

‘‘No!’’ Bunny cried, ducked under the table, and scrambled up into his lap. ‘‘I don’t want you to go!’’

It triggered a wave of crying little girls. Most of the youngest over five years old managed to contain themselves. The three-and four-year-olds, though, could not be consoled.

He hugged them, four and five to an armful, rocking them. ‘‘Hush, hush, this is a wonderful day for the Whistlers. We shouldn’t be crying. We should be happy and celebrating.’’ The words were like ash in his mouth, but to show his own pain would only make his little sisters unhappier. ‘‘I know—let’s forget about dinner and make ice cream and cake.’’

‘‘Ice cream?’’

‘‘Cake?’’

‘‘Maple ice cream and pound cake,’’ Jerin said firmly.

‘‘Come on, let’s go into the kitchen and start making them.’’

‘‘You’ll have to excuse the family,’’ Eldest murmured to Captain Tern as Jerin herded the sniffling girls toward the kitchen. ‘‘We lost our father early this spring, and
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our mothers have been gone several weeks. The little ones are fragile at the moment.’’

Captain Tern waved away the apology as unnecessary.

‘‘They’re just babies. They seem to love their brother well.’’

‘‘Jerin has lots of patience with them,’’ Eldest said.

‘‘Patience is invaluable in a husband,’’ Captain Tern said. ‘‘Children need a nurturing hand to grow them into strong women. His wives will be lucky. Tell me, how did your father die so young? Heart failure?’’

‘‘No, no, it was an accident.’’ Eldest sighed. ‘‘He slipped on icy steps and fell. He struck his head. . . .’’

Jerin was glad when the kitchen door swung closed, shutting off that quiet conversation. Tonight would not be a good time for him to have those wounds opened by the recounting of their father’s prolonged death. Captain Tern rode out after a breakfast of dinner leftovers, promising to return at dusk. Jerin waited until his youngest sisters were deeply entrenched in their morning chores before he started to pack; there was no need to give them fresh reminders that he was leaving. His wedding chest would go with him. He took everything out and repacked it carefully for the trip, mindful it would be shifted and possibly dropped. He used his wedding linens to pad the bone china tea set his mothers had bought for him on his twelfth birthday. There would be no way to foretell the quality and wealth of his future wives, his mothers had stated as he’d unwrapped the expensive gift, but his children should be raised with manners befitting the blood of the Queens. At that time, his grandfather, Prince Alannon, and two of his thieving spies of grandmothers were still alive, and they laughed until tears came to their eyes.

He kept out three of the silver engraved spoons stolen from the Castle Tastledae, and three of four tintypes he had of Prince Alannon. These he divvied into his younger brothers’ wedding chests so they each would
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have something from their royal grandfather. Another generation or two, and there would be nothing to share out but memories.

He took only his best clothes, leaving behind his work clothes for Doric. Lastly he packed the items about his room that he wanted to keep, leaving only his quilt out, to be added on the day he left.

He sat staring at the now stark room. What was he forgetting?

His birth certificate!

The family records box sat in the corner of the parlor, firmly locked against little fingers. The key was kept on the high trim piece of the window beside it. Jerin no longer had to stretch to reach the key, which surprised him.

The first piece of paper was the death certificate for their father. Jerin set it quickly aside. Under it was baby Kai’s birth certificate, which Jerin lingered over to erase the jolt of pain that the death certificate had put through him.

Kai Whistler, male child born to Bliss Whistler and fathered by husband Tullen Beadwater from Bowling Green. Grandchild of Nida Whistler and husband Alannon

(ancestry

documented

but

uncertified). Great-grandchild of Kei Whistler & Order of the Sword crib captive named Gerard,

#458. Great-great-grandchild of Allysen Whistler & Order of the Sword crib captive Kyle, number unknown. No other lineage known. A family copy, it was stamped and sealed with reference numbers of where the original was stored. Also indicated was where the marriage records for their mothers and grandmothers could be found. Jerin leafed down through the birth certificates, layered youngest to oldest, till he came to his own.
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