Chapter 35

Jorgarn watched as Torbert crumpled into the arms of Gorin and without a thought, he leapt from the ship into the cold water. Pernice followed shortly afterward, if for no other reason than he wasn't certain that Jorgarn could swim.

If the water were any deeper, Jorgarn's leather armor and sword would have caused him to drown. But as it was, he was able to bob on the sandy bottom until his head was above the water. Pernice was in the same form.

The pair waded to shore only shortly after Torbert fell. Jorgarn saw no wounds and he could tell Torbert was breathing, so he lifted Torbert into his arms and began a slow run up the hill to the castle. The remaining members of the Guard stood watching with something akin to shock or horror.

Merg had just stepped outside into the sunlight when he saw the figures approaching in the distance. He spun on his heel and went back inside.

"Sire," he said urgently as he burst into the room. "I believe they have killed Torbert and made land. It appears as if the Guard has fallen."

Landor slammed the crate closed. He hoped Denae had sense enough to hide until she could escape but she doubted if she did. Jorgarn raced into the castle and into the King's study just as Merg turned to alert Denae to hide.

"Sire!" Jorgarn said quickly. "Torbert has had what appears to be a shock to his system. Can I have some water for him, please? Merg, go fetch a healer. Thank you."

Merg's mouth dropped. He couldn't stop himself from putting his arm around Jorgarn before racing forward.

"I knew it!" he said happily. "I told them. We all told them."

"Merg!" Jorgarn said. The boy's face was still set in a smile as he ran out a side door and down the corridor.

Denae had only seen the back of a large, lumbering man enter her father's study. The man carried her uncle as if Torbert were a child. She burst into the room to see her father standing, his hand shaking, holding a cup of water outward and the long-haired, smelly man leaning beside her uncle. She unsheathed her short sword and put it hard against the man's neck.

"Get away from my family, you barbarian!" she hissed. "Or I will kill you on that very spot."

Jorgarn slowly raised his hands – which had been loosening the armor around Torbert's neck and stood to his full height, before slowly turning around. He could sense that she was angry and nervous, never a good combination when someone has a weapon at your back.

"I surrender, Denae," Jorgarn said with a slight smile. He was confused and he didn't like confusion.

Denae's sword clattered to the floor and she took an involuntary step backward.

"Creator!" she said. "I, I..."

"We thought you were dead until moments ago," Landor supplied.

Merg burst through the door a moment later with the old medic and Jorgarn's heart fell. He pictured Usala's crumpled body alongside the road and rage and pain coursed through him.

"I am not dead!" he said plainly. "I sent you a message four months ago that you should expect us to arrive. I've sent three messengers in the past year or so and none of them has returned."

Torbert stirred on the settee and the medic helped him sit up.

"It appears if he has simply had a fright," she said as she looked at Jorgarn and Pernice, who had joined the group. "If the way you two look didn't cause it, then it might have been the smell. He'll be fine in a few minutes."

With another withering glance at Jorgarn, she turned to leave the room. Jorgarn and Pernice each felt tears well in their eyes. The loss of Alite and Usala had been felt for months. Men wounded in battle often died without a medic to treat them. But it was never brought home more than by the brusque nature of the old crone left behind. Usala and Alite were both vibrant, friendly women who treated everyone they met with respect and courtesy.

"Wait," Jorgarn said firmly. "The following few minutes will concern you, too. So take a seat and keep your damned mouth shut. If I hear you utter so much as a curse, I will slit your throat and let you bleed out on the rug."

Pernice put his hand on Jorgarn's shoulder but Jorgarn shrugged it off.

"I have had enough of this crone's behavior," he said angrily. "I have watched men and women die for the past 18 months because no one here saw fit to provide us replacements. I want answers and I will have them."

The entire room was silent. The old medic's face turned whiter and she sat silently beside Denae. Jorgarn turned to Torbert.

"I'm sorry I startled you," he said sincerely. "I believed you were aware of our imminent arrival."

"I, I heard you all had been killed," he said with a smile that Jorgarn knew would leave in moments. "I was just so happy to hear your voice, to see you all returning."

Jorgarn placed a hand on Torbert' shoulder and squeezed gently as he knelt before him.

"Torbert, I regret to inform you that all of us have not returned," Jorgarn said solemnly. "Usala was among the fallen. I'm sorry."

The smile vanished from Torbert's face and everyone in the room gasped.

Jorgarn stood and turned to the medic.

"I also regret to inform you, Madame Trinil, that your assistant Alite Vestin died the same day as Usala Weltin. They were ambushed on a humanitarian mission to treat the wounded and bury the dead. Eleven other members of our army died that evening, as well, including Traymer Ducotte, who most of you know was a part of my staff."

Jorgarn paused for a moment.

"My last message to you included the disposition of the battle, our list of fallen soldiers and the information about our return, Sire," Jorgarn said to Landor. "If you will allow me, I would like to present my report to you now."

Landor nodded solemnly and glanced at Torbert who was sitting ashen faced.

"The lands of Salaria, Gobrik, Vecad and Umbria are now under your control, King Landor," Jorgarn said. "But the cost was heavy. Almost 200 of our ranks did not return to our shores, including many who were close to the Royal Family. In addition to those I've named, Masters Seni and Melodart are among the dead. Both were killed from behind, just as our people who died while giving comfort were killed with nothing more than a shovel in their hands."

Torbert let out a long breath.

Landor lowered his eyes and Jorgarn was sure he could hear Denae sobbing quietly behind him.

"I return to you 206 brave members of your Guard," Jorgarn said. "Almost 120 of them perished in battle or by treachery. Seventy former residents of Longview left their homeland to aid in our battle. Forty-eight of them still live. I also bring with us 28 men with no home or country. They are former soldiers hired by Velotta who have no place to return to. These men come to our shores as I once did, seeking nothing but an opportunity and a home. I ask that you grant these men this, as you once did me."

Landor sighed deeply and nodded his agreement.

"The Land of Tark, our eastern neighbor sent 150 archers to assist us and provided 100 more bows for your troops," Jorgarn continued. "I ask that these men be provided sustenance and passage back to their homes."

Again, Landor nodded his head.

"Lastly, I have brought with us a representative from the Empire of Swar who wishes to discuss the possible disposition of the land formerly known as Umbria," Jorgarn said. "Now, I would like to know why I have received no messages in 18 months and everyone thinks we had perished."

Landor sat silently for a moment to compose his thoughts.

"The last message we had from you was that Gobrik had fallen and that you had found information linking Vecad to the attacks," the King replied. "We heard nothing from you since and no messengers have arrived. Additionally, there are many rumors about the great loss of life in Umbria."

Denae snorted.

"Jorgarn, we heard tales of a barbarian warlord rampaging across the upper landmass," she said pleadingly. "When we heard nothing from you for so long – and when no one in Salaria, Gobrik or Vecad knew where you had gone, we assumed the worst, that you had run into Yerk the Destroyer and had been lost."

"Six months ago, Denae and I traveled to what was once Salaria," Landor cut in. "There were refugees from Umbria who spoke of mass killings, villages burned to the ground. It was then we learned that you had gone into Umbria, although we still don't know why."

"We pursued Usala and Alite's assailants," Pernice answered. "Our trackers found that they had sneaked across the border, attacked our group and then fled back across. We planned to attack Umbria anyway because they were the brains behind everything. But we planned to wait for reinforcements before battle. The attacks on our unarmed party made that impossible."

The look in Landor's eye told Jorgarn he knew there was more to the story but it was best to leave it unsaid.

"So you didn't encounter the warlord?" Denae asked.

Jorgarn chuckled grimly.

"After the cowardly attack on our party, I ordered every soldier from Umbria we encountered to be killed on the spot," Jorgarn said tonelessly. "Every village was offered one chance to surrender then it was burned whether the populace departed or not. I laid waste to that entire country for what they did. So, no, I did not encounter the warlord.

"I am the warlord."

Denae's mouth dropped and she simply stared at Jorgarn. It probably would have continued for longer but a face popped into the door – a person Jorgarn did not recognize.

"Denae, thank Creation you're alright," the man said. "Are we still evacuating?"

Denae glanced at the man for a moment then back at Jorgarn.

"No, it was not an attack," she said. "It was our soldiers returning from battle. The information we received was in error. They have returned, most of them anyway."

The man started to enter the room.

"Frayon, please wait outside," Denae said. "This is a discussion for the family."

The man's face reddened.

"Family?" he asked. "I am your family. I am to be your husband in a week."

Denae shuddered and looked at Jorgarn.

"I thought you had died," she said softly before turning to the other man. "I'm sorry, Frayon, I must honor my prior betrothal to Lord Tremaine. Our marriage will not happen."

The man's eyes narrowed angrily.

"And what of my child?" he asked bitterly. "Is the child you carry still to become the Monarch?"

"What!" Landor boomed. "Denae, what is this nonsense? Frayon, I will have you executed for slandering the Heiress."

Jorgarn looked for a moment at Denae before turning to face the King.

"It is not slander," he said simply. "I suspect it is the truth. Now, Sire, may I be excused? I wish to bathe and see to my men."

Landor's face was infused with such anger than Jorgarn worried for the King's health.

"Yes, Sir Jorgarn," he said softly. "Master Fieth has refused to accept the Knighthood. There are many in the castle who did not lose their faith in you. Your chamber is still as it was on the day you left. Mistress Leyota has ensured that."

Jorgarn nodded and departed, Pernice at his side, without looking at either the Princess or her soon-to-be husband.

"What will you do?" Pernice asked as they ascended the stairs.

"Well, I know what I won't do," Jorgarn answered angrily.

The final few months before his departure had been good. Denae seemed to turn back into the girl he thought she was. Even Torbert had noticed and brought it to Jorgarn's attention. She was upset that their marriage had to be postponed but she accepted even that news with grace.

Jorgarn once again found himself laughing beside Denae and they spent many evenings discussing their future together. He still didn't allow her back into his bed but she seemed to accept that, too. There were no rumors of indiscretion, nor did Jorgarn suspect any. It seemed as though Denae had realized there were limits to what she could do and she had decided to accept them.

Their relationship returned to the way it was at the beginning – before the manipulation and deception took root. Jorgarn would sometimes catch Denae simply looking at him with a somewhat silly smile and a dream-like expression on her face.

Given what he knew, it was no surprise that she thought him dead. But it appeared that she didn't mourn him for long. Landor said they only returned from Salaria a half year ago and she was already planning to wed someone else – someone she had given the one thing that Jorgarn had insisted she keep until their marriage bed.

He sat heavily on his bed. Pernice, seeing his friend's discomfort started to leave.

"Stay, my friend," Jorgarn said. "We spent many nights, you and I, talking about the future. Now we can truly take time to mourn the loss of it together."

Pernice sat but looked dazed.

"I simply can't believe she would do that," Pernice said. "Even if she didn't find herself with child, you would have found out. You would have known. She couldn't possibly have expected you to ignore such a thing."

"If I were dead, it would make no difference," Jorgarn answered. "I knew she was eager to move to that step. The fact that I refused any sort of intimacy for the year before we left didn't help things. But still, I will find it difficult to offer sound advice to someone I believe I despise."

There was a loud knock at the door and it swung open. Leyota, Drosset and Merg came rushing in.

"See, I told you!" Merg said with a smile. The smile left when he saw the look on Jorgarn's face.

"You know," Leyota said sadly. "I hoped to find a way to tell you privately. She believed you had been lost in battle. Some of us – most of us – had more faith in you than that."

Fieth and Renoit entered the chamber with wide smiles that quickly turned into frowns. Still, Chicote offered a warm embrace to his youngest sister, who wrinkled her nose and laughed at the smell.

Three years away had produced a host of changes in his young staff. Leyota was now 15 and had blossomed into a lovely woman. She was a prettier version of her sister, who was pretty in her own right. Merg was still tall and thin with shaggy blonde hair that appeared he was unable to tame. Drosset, at 13, looked slightly like Cruit but he had the softer features of his sister.

"Where is Stenweed?" Jorgarn asked.

Leyota looked at the floor but Merg and Drosset's face became angry.

"He was let go," Merg said.

"By whom?" Jorgarn asked even though he knew the answer.

"By Her Royal Highness," Leyota said with disdain.

"On what account?" Jorgarn inquired.

"On no account," Leyota said. "She started to make fun of him a few months after you left. Then she told him his services were not needed at the castle until you returned. I heard her say that she would not have a 'peter breath' lusting after her husband. She is a fine one to talk about having the smell of seed on your breath!"