Chapter 3
The Young Lioness
Rowan, Gladius
"You will often hear it said that having children will change you, but you do not truly understand it until you have children of your own. You will uncover joys and sorrows you never thought possible, all rolled into this curious reflection of yourself and of your other half. It is truly a wonder to see yourself in your children, to see your spouse, and to see this person who is neither."
-Excerpt from the assorted writings of Mark the Guardian
It was about the tenth hour when the Twelve Stewards were dismissed. Mark decided to go with Sonia to Rowan. He wanted to see young Sandra, Sonia's daughter, before they set out on this expedition. The parties bound for Eagle, Watercress and Rowan travelled together as far as the Aquila Crossroads. There Mark sent Sir Robert and Sir Christopher on ahead of him to make preparations. He had already arranged with Lord Waldemar to provide most of the trained fighting men, both from his household and his resident Templars.
Only Heinrich and Petrus remained with him and the only entourage Sonia brought was Aiken. Surely Aiken's mother would have much rather been at Sonia's side, but as the killer of the Queen Mother's father, Jill was barred from Newstone on the pain of death. It was the concession Mark and Sonia won when House Licinius came baying for blood after the war. Edward's marriage to Licinia Iuvenalia was the concession the Licinii won. As much as Edward hated the patricians, he was willing to marry one to save the life of a companion.
It was late when they arrived at Watercress and early when they set out for Rowan. Despite peace having come to Gladius after the Restoration, Rowan acted as if it was gearing for war. No longer constricted by the usurper's laws, the Rowanites began work fortifying the town. Being at the edge of the forest where trees were abundant, most of those fortifications were made of wood, but they were also bringing in stone to rebuild stretches of the walls of old Arcadia, the ruined city on which the current town was built.
As they approached the gate, a young man's voice from the gatehouse called out to them.
"Greetings, my lady! Greetings, my lord!"
It was Gillius, Jill's bastard son. Rowanites took a different view to the sanctity of marriage than most. For them, seeking strong bloodlines to add to their own was the first concern. The role of a man was to sire children and the role of a woman was to bear them. So long as a strong child was produced, it did not matter much how that child was conceived. Such a custom would be scandalous anywhere else in the kingdom and few outsiders knew of it.
Gillius' father was one of their companions, Giles the Savage, the former general of the Marauders' Pikeman Division, who turned on his comrades after witnessing the barbarity of the campaign in Byrn. Giles was born to the wild Inkari Tribe of the mountains, captured as a youth and trained to be a Marauder. The Inkari were an elusive people and clearly Jill saw the value of mixing their blood with Rowanite stock.
Sadly for young Gillius, he twice failed the trials to be accepted into the true village of Rowan within the forest. Deemed one of the 'unable', he became an 'outside Rowanite', an lesser class to 'inside Rowanites' or 'able Rowanites' as they called themselves. Even so, he was too bound to Rowan to go off to Newstone and join the King's men, so he found a place in the town's militia where, according to all accounts, he was serving admirably.
"They got you on gate duty, Gillius?" Sonia called back to him. "You not on patrol?"
"I have patrol tomorrow, my lady."
"Maybe not."
"What?"
"Columb'll tell you all about it," Sonia said, motioning with her head toward the mayor who was riding a short distance behind them. "We're heading on in."
"Miss Sandra will be glad to see you back so soon," Gillius said.
"It won't be for long," Sonia muttered to herself.
They passed through the gate and once dismounted, Columb the mayor bowed to Mark and Sonia, saying, "I take my leave, my lady, my lord. I need to assemble the town and tell them the news."
"I'll talk with Dyer," Sonia said, "see how many he plans on sending. You'll only have to make up the lack. Try asking Lord Wilfried and Sir Eglamour and see if they'll contribute. We don't need to be sending woodcutters and tanners if we can avoid it."
"I will send word to them, my lady," Columb replied.
Sonia nodded.
"Good man. Get to it then."
And with that, Mark, Sonia and their three companions passed through the town to the forest gate. Along the way, townsfolk going about their business would stop to bow and greet the two of them. It was easy to see why Sonia chose to remain here rather than return to her family's estate in Eagle. Here was where she was raised, where she spent years as its protectress. Here she was loved and respected. Here she was removed from most of the kingdom's politics. And even though this was the place where she buried her mother and lost her mentor to the Gladian Guard, the sense of loss was not so great as it was in the barren halls of the old family home.
Few outsiders were aware of it, but the town at the edge of the forest was not the true Rowan. It was merely a facade to conceal the real village hidden within the forest. Only the men and women deemed able by their customs were permitted to live in the true village. This was where the hunters and scouts of renown made their home, when they were not out ranging, that is. Their true numbers were kept under strictest secrecy.
Although she was not skilled in the arts of the forest folk, Sonia was nevertheless granted special permission to live in the forest village, a privilege that was extended to her daughter. Likewise, the recognition granted to Mark also covered not only Nathan but Heinrich and Petrus as well, as squires were seen as fosterlings by the reckoning of the Rowanites and therefore accorded the privileges of sons.
However, despite this special recognition, it was both customary and prudent to enter the woods with hands raised to demonstrate that you did not pose a threat. Sonia was perhaps the only exception as a person who did not wear Rowanite green.
"I'll go find the headman, Auntie," Aiken said. He tipped his cap to Mark. "My lord."
He saluted with his bow, then made a call like an owl's hooting and ran off deeper into the woods.
Mark had been to the forest village enough times that he could see through the camouflage that concealed the treetop huts and the sentries poised to shoot dead any interlopers. He was glad to see that those sentries were not training their arrows on him and his squires. They were not so trusting the first time he entered these woods.
"Hup, hup!" Sonia called out and a lift was lowered down for them.
Sonia still lived in the hut of the former headman Ridley with Jill and Sandra. Sandra had been studying in Cruz until the plague spread there and Sonia had her brought back to Rowan. Apparently at regular intervals she would go to Lord Wilfried's manor to take lessons with his daughters on the feminine crafts, something Sonia neglected in her own education. Mark had been somewhat surprised by this, thinking that Sonia would want her daughter to undergo the same training as a man, just as she had done. However, Sonia seemed to understand the societal disadvantage she had been left with and so she said that her daughter ought to wield a needle and thread as well as a sword and buckler.
"I'm home!" Sonia announced as she stepped in the door.
Nightingale the housekeeper emerged, bowing to Sonia and saying, "Welcome home, me lady." She bowed to Mark. "Welcome, me lord, young masters."
Mark nodded in reply and then Sonia said, "Gale, get us some tea. Where's Sandra?"
Before Nightingale could answer, you could hear the sound of hasty footsteps that came to an abrupt stop, then out walked Sandra, comporting herself as you would expect for a young lady of good breeding. A faint flush of her cheeks and ever so slightly dishevelled hair betrayed her haste a moment earlier.
Sandra was for the most part the spitting image of her mother. She was notably tall for a girl—already her mother's height and likely still growing—and she had green eyes instead of her mother's blue. Though Sonia wore trousers as a man would, Sandra, on the other hand, always wore a dress. Here in Rowan, she was garbed simply in an otherwise plain green dress accented with embroidery that was her own handiwork. On her left hip was a smaller replica of Sonia's rapier and on her right was Leander's Dagger, a family heirloom bearing a False Gem that mimicked the power of the Elemental Gems of the family's ancestral gear.
Sandra curtseyed and said, "Welcome home, Mother." She curtseyed again to Mark. "Welcome to our home, Lord Mark, Master Heinrich, Master Petrus."
The two squires awkwardly paid their respects in return.
"Miss Sandra."
"Miss Sandra."
Sonia rolled her eyes.
"Sit down, you young fools."
Because Mark had brought Heinrich and Petrus here before, he did not need to tell them where to sit, that the place of guests was to the left of the host and that the place at the foot of the table was reserved as a memorial for the departed members of the household. Sonia took her place at the head of the table, sitting in the manner of a man, while Sandra demurely folded her legs under her.
Nightingale returned shortly thereafter with the tea. In the Rowanite custom, the guests were first served from greatest to least, then the household from least to greatest, and the remaining cup was set in the place of memorial. Rowanite tea was pungent and bitter, but the blend was said to bolster the constitution and increase awareness, so it was standard for the kit of their scouts on the long ranging patrols in the forest.
Because they were left in silence while Sonia broodingly nursed her tea, Sandra took it upon herself to speak up and asked, "Where is Nathan, Lord Mark?"
"I left him back in Eagle," Mark replied.
"A pity," she said. "I would have liked to see him."
"I'll bring him with me when we return from the expedition."
Sandra tilted her head.
"Expedition?"
Before Mark could explain, or afford Sonia the opportunity to explain the situation to Sandra, the door flap opened and in walked Jill. The years had weathered her and she was of somewhat stockier build than when they last travelled together, but you would never take her for a mother of nine by looking at her. She wore her hair longer these days, in two plaits that gave her a slightly more feminine appearance, but this was offset by the well-seasoned toughness about her. You could scarcely tell her skin apart from the leathers she wore.
"You're back," she said to Sonia. Taking note of Mark, she only gave him a nod of acknowledgement before continuing. "I heard from Aiken. He was talking to Dyer."
"Oh, good," Sonia said, setting down her tea. "I was thinking Dyer might be further out on patrol."
"He wasn't going to go ranging far until you got back."
"A good thing too. We've got to be in Eagle in a few days. Was Dyer wanting to talk to me?"
"No. He said he will send two dozen scouts."
"So the rest have to come from town."
"Five and twenty."
"We need fifty. Two dozen and five and twenty is still one short."
"I'm going with you."
"I thought you'd be saying that."
"Aiken, Berk and Cedric are going too."
Sonia's expression hardened.
"You sure you want to send three of your boys?"
"They're grown," Jill said bluntly. "They have sons and daughters to carry their blood. It's their choice."
Looking back and forth between the two of them in confusion, Sandra asked, "Mother, what are you and Aunt Jill talking about?"
Sonia sighed and said, "Those whoresons in Newstone was to send a thousand Gladians to die in Titan." She pointed to herself and Mark. "Us too."
"Sonia!" Mark snapped. "You're only going to frighten her telling it like that." He took a deep breath and then spoke more gently to Sandra. "They're sending us to help put down a rebellion in Titan. Yes, there is danger, but it's not like we're being sent to our deaths."
"But we could die," Sonia said. "That's what they're counting on, I'm sure."
"You can die from choking on a half-chewed piece of meat," Mark countered. "Your foot can slip on a wet tile and you break your head. You could get bitten by an adder while walking in the garden. Death is all around us, Sandra, always. God has ordained the hour we are taken from this earth. It doesn't come a moment sooner, or a moment later. It profits a man nothing to live in fear of Death."
"But a man can profit living in hope of death," Sonia said, "especially when that death is convenient. And I don't need you coddling my child, cousin." It was clear she was annoyed about him rebuking her amid everything else. "You know damn well they mean for us to die. I wouldn't be surprised if that pack of dogs from Newstone is there to see that it's done."
"They may hope for some misadventure, but they wouldn't dare be that bold," Mark said.
"Explain Siegfried then," Sonia said. "Explain Edward."
"Even if they mean to get rid of us, they would never survive if they succeeded. They would make too many enemies."
"And who'll unite those enemies if we're gone? Divide and conquer's always been their strategy. There won't be another Everard to bring them together. It'll be like the old days and that's just how they want it."
"If you see an enemy move against you, strike first and kill him," Jill said.
"It isn't as simple as that, Jill," Mark said. "The Crown and the patricians are intertwined. You can't separate one from the other and even if you could, you would be plunging the kingdom into war."
"If we gotta fight, it oughta be for our homeland," Sonia said.
Mark gestured to his squires and said, "You do realize that it would be the young people like these doing most of the fighting and dying."
Unmoved, Sonia replied, "It's their future. They ought to fight for it, same as we did."
"After the plague and with what I hear about crops failing, you would add a war to the people's burdens?"
The sword and the famine and the pestilence. People would listening for the crack of doom.
Sonia slammed her fist on the table.
"Unless the people wanna live on their knees as slaves to those bastards, they damn well better be glad to take up arms against them!"
"When the levies assemble in Eagle, would you have them march on Newstone instead of Titan?"
"Now there's an idea!"
Mark let out an exasperated sigh.
"I'm thankful your tongue wasn't this loose in the capital. You'd be drawn and quartered for treason."
"No, women they burn at the stake," Sonia corrected him. "And anyway, I never swore my sword to the damn patricians. I swore it to that drunken bastard."
"Edward is dead, Sonia. Edric is King and until he comes of age, we can't get him out of their grasp."
"You think a few years'll change anything? That brat's gonna be the worst thing since Bloody Edmond, mark my words."
"You don't know that. There's still hope for him. You didn't believe in Edward at first either, remember?"
Sonia went quiet after Mark said this. She looked down at her cup and muttered, "I need something a damn sight stronger than this."
"I'm going to have to ask you to refrain," Mark said. "I need you clear-headed. We'll be back on the road tomorrow."
"You are leaving so soon?" Sandra asked.
"We have to be back in Eagle in four days," Mark said. "We scarcely have time enough to assemble the levy and gather the tribute."
"I'll pay it," Sonia grumbled. "We don't need to be taking halfpennies from swineherds and turnip farmers."
"We'll have to go to the bank in Corinth then."
Sonia muttered an assortment of curses under her breath.
"I'm tired," she said. "If we're gonna be back on the road, I'll be needing some rest. The spare room's yours, cousin. If that's not good enough for Your Lordship, you and your boys can stay at the Broadleaf or else head out to Wilfried's place."
"Sonia..."
She held up her hand.
"Don't," she said. "You're fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine. Just... just let me rest."
Sonia got up and went off to her room. The hut was not very large, so it was not far for her to go. At first, Sandra looked like she was going to go after her, but when Jill followed instead, she seemed to decide it was her place to play hostess in her mother's absence.
She gave Mark an apologetic look and said, "We do not have much, my lord, but this house is yours. Or shall I send someone to make arrangements at the Broadleaf?"
"No," Mark said. "Unless your mother drives us off with a firebrand in hand, we'll stay here. Now that I think of it, some rest would do all of us some good. You'll call us when it's time for supper, won't you?"
"Yes, my lord."
"And, Sandra."
"Yes, my lord?"
"How many times have I told you not to call me 'my lord'? At least not here in your own home."
"Yes, my... Yes, Cousin Mark."
"You really should go to Eagle while we're away. Nathan would appreciate the company. He doesn't have anyone his age who's not trying to knock his teeth out on the training grounds."
"Yes, I would like that," Sandra said. She paused. "Maybe... maybe Mother will let me join you as far as Eagle."
"It will be a hard pace," Mark said. "It would be better to go later at your leisure."
In a mostly hollow display of bravado, Sandra squared her shoulders and puffed up her chest, saying, "I am the daughter of a warrior house, Cousin Mark. I can handle it."
"You can't ride side-saddle," Mark said.
This gave her pause.
"But, if a maid rides like a man, I have heard..."
She blushed. Mark knew what she was thinking about and also knew well enough to leave it at that. Petrus, on the other hand...
"You've heard what?" he asked.
Sandra's cheeks turned a shade or two redder.
"It isn't a subject for mixed company," Mark said.
Heinrich leaned in and whispered, "I'll tell you later."
Mark shook his head, then told Sandra, "It will be up to your mother. She will likely be in a better mood after supper. If your heart is set on going, you can try asking her then. And now, if you'll excuse us..."
"Of course," Sandra said. "Thank you, Cousin Mark."
Mark rose from the table and motioned for his squires to follow him. It was not that he could not trust them to be alone with Sandra, but for the sake of appearances, even in a place as remote as this, it was only prudent.
The spare room had little to spare, just a straw mat with a pile of furs atop it. Mark offered a couple of the pelts to his squires, telling them, "Get some rest. This will seem like luxury compared to what you'll find beyond our borders."
Mark removed his boots and unbuckled his swordbelt, then stretched out on the mat. Yes, humble as it was, it was a luxury compared to the rigors of the road. It had been too long since he last had to fend for himself in the wilds. He was not especially looking forward to it.
* * *
They set out late the next morning. Besides the two dozen scouts promised by Dyer, fourteen men of the town militia, six men from Lord Wilfried and another five selected by lot were assembled. Squire Kiefer, the vice-captain of the town militia, was chosen to lead the Rowanite levy. Gillius was counted among the militiamen who joined, meaning four of Jill's sons would be going on the expedition. Unlike Aiken, Berk and Cedric, though, Gillius did not have a wife nor any sons to continue his line, but the expectations were different for 'outside Rowanites'.
Mark and Sonia rode at the front of the formation. Keeping pace with a company on foot made for an easy ride. The idea was to get to Watercress, join up with their levy and go on together to Eagle. By the time they arrived, all the other levies ought to be there waiting for them.
After they had gone a few miles from town, Mark asked Sonia, "Was Sandra upset much?"
"She can go play with her cousin later," Sonia replied.
"I'm sure she wanted to spend more time with you before we set out."
"She wouldn't like the pace we're keeping."
"She told me she could bear it."
"She couldn't ride side-saddle."
Mark chuckled.
"I told her that too."
"Can't have her losing her precious maidenhead to a horse," Sonia said, seeming to go out of her way to make it sound all the more vulgar. "I'd have a harder time marrying her off."
"I'm surprised you're even thinking about that."
Sonia tightened her grip on the reins.
"House Leon has to continue. I just have to find a man worthy of our bloodline."
A heedless man might have then asked how it was that Sonia picked Sandra's father, but Mark was no heedless man. However, without any prompting from him, Sonia actually broached the topic herself.
"You never have asked me about Sandra," she said. "Not once in all this time."
Mark recalled when he returned to Gladius from Antioch after his induction into the High Templars. Sonia had declined the invitation to his wedding to Catherine and he travelled to Rowan to find out why. That reason proved to be Sandra, then a babe only a few months old. It had been nearly a year since they had last seen each other, since the trials of Randwulf's minions. The fact that there was no husband with her told him that it was not a question he ought to ask and so he held his silence ever since.
"It was not my place to ask," Mark replied. "If you wanted to talk about it, you would."
Sonia eyed Mark's squires and told them, "You boys hang back. Mark and I are going ride up ahead a bit."
Heinrich and Petrus looked to Mark for guidance. He nodded for them to do as she said.
"Yes, milady," they replied.
Sonia quickened her pace to put some distance between them and Mark followed after her. Once they were presumably out of earshot of the squires, Mark asked her, "Sonia, what's this about?"
"I haven't seen any real action since Darkwall," she said. "These rebels in Titan may not be anything to worry about, but I'm not as spry as I used to be."
"None of us are," Mark replied, "those of us who are still left."
Sonia sighed.
"There's something I wanted to talk to you about. Just in case..."
"This isn't much like you at all."
Sonia shrugged and tilted her head, saying, "Must be age. Like I said, you've never asked me about Sandra."
"And like I said, it wasn't my place."
"Aren't you curious? Haven't you ever wondered?"
"I've wondered since I first saw her on your knee that day fifteen years ago."
"Then why didn't you ask?"
"Would you have told me?"
"No," Sonia admitted.
"But you mean to tell me now?"
"Yeah..."
Mark did not press her. He waited for her to tell him in her own time.
"It was him," she said. "That drunkard... Edward... Edward was the father."
Mark would have sooner believed that a man rose up from the clay and then melted away right afterward. Sonia could see his disbelief and rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, I know. Last one you'd expect, right? It all started with the coronation. We were late for the banquet after the ceremony, remember? Well, we came across each other on the way to the great hall. He must've slipped away from his bodyguards somehow. He was drunk, like he always was. I was drunk too. I needed something if I was gonna be in the same room as that bitch Licinia...
"You know how we used to be. He said things, I said things. We started going at it like always and then... we... well.... You can imagine."
Heaven preserve him. Mark was trying desperately not to imagine it.
"It'd be one thing if it was just the one time," Sonia continued, "but we started seeing each other more. I think he liked having me to get away from his wife. He didn't have to worry about me singing about it for a copper like one of the whores.
"It went on for years. Who knows? It might still be going on if he was still alive. That hunting trip where he got killed... He was coming to see me."
And so she blamed herself for having a hand in his death. Mark wondered if the plotters behind Edward's death knew. It was quite likely, but they did not move against either Sonia or Sandra in all this time. If Sonia had born a son instead, though...
Of all the things Mark could ask, what he found himself asking her was "Did you love him?"
"I don't know," Sonia said, shaking her head. "I don't think a kind word passed between us in those five damn years. We never stopped cursing each other, not even when... well, you know.
"Sandra's eyes. Those green eyes. They're his eyes and every time I look at her, I can't help but think of him, damn it all."
Much as she did not want to admit it, it sounded like love to Mark, but it seemed wise not to make note of it.
"Edward made quite a few bastards," Sonia said. "Ever since Old Siegfried died, those damned patricians have been hunting them down. I don't think anyone knows, but it's part of the reason I've stayed in the forest, for her protection."
Of course Sonia had been thinking about that too. Certainly there were not too many safer places for her daughter than the woods of Rowan. It seemed more the wonder that she let Sandra study in Cruz for as long as she did. That could not have been easy for her.
Sonia reached out and took hold of Mark's sleeve.
"If anything happens to me out there, swear you'll look after her."
"Of course," Mark said, resting his hand on hers. "Even if there wasn't a threat to her life, she's blood. More than that, she's your daughter, the daughter of one of my treasured companions."
Sonia sighed, only unlike before, this time it was a sigh of relief.
"I've wanted to tell you for the longest time, but I didn't have the courage."
"You?" Mark asked incredulously. "Didn't have the courage? Why not?"
"I thought... I thought you might think less of me."
Mark shook his head.
"What you and Edward did was neither right nor lawful, but who am I to sit in judgment of you? We're all sinners."
"Says the holy man."
"I'm no holy man, Sonia," Mark said grimly. "I'm a killer of men and a breaker of solemn vows." He touched his chest. "This red surcoat is a testament against me. If I were to presume my own righteousness, I would be deceiving myself."
"You've always been too hard on yourself and too soft on others, Mark," Sonia said. "It'll be the death of you one day. But thank you."
Mark nodded and with that, it would seem that the matter was put to rest, for the time being at least.
"Shall we rejoin the others?" he suggested. "They're going to start wondering if we stay apart from them too long."
"Alright," Sonia said. "Let's go."