or find a wise woman with the right mix of herbs. You,” she added, smile disappearing as she turned to Lorkan, “be prepared to cough up for the consequences if you’re going to tumble on the other side of the blankets.”
Like her mother in some respects, after all, Vaelin thought, fixing Ellese’s uncontrite visage with a hard glare. He recalled that Reva didn’t like Petition Day any more than he did, but she had at least developed the capacity to pretend otherwise.
“My niece’s point is valid if crudely made,” he said, turning back to Lorkan. “Does Cara wish to remain married to you? And know well that I will take a very dim view of a dishonest reply.”
Lorkan seemed about to offer another smile, but the lingering weight of Vaelin’s gaze evidently made him think better of it. “No, my lord,” he said with a sigh. “She has told me as much in terms that left little room for doubt.”
“Then it appears at least one part of this complaint can be settled forthwith. Under the powers delegated to me by Queen Lyrna Al Nieren, I hereby annul your marriage.” He turned to the scribe seated off to his left. “Draft a formal order for my signature and register it with the Fourth Order by the end of the day.”
The scribe nodded and refreshed the ink on his pen. “I will, my lord.”
“Mistress Olna,” Vaelin said, turning to the pregnant girl. “How many years have you?”
“Seventeen and ten months, my lord,” she replied promptly, clamping her jaws against another outburst as her mother let out a somewhat unconvincing whimper.
“Oh, my despoiled child,” the woman moaned, face in her hands.
“Have you a trade?” Vaelin went on, choosing to ignore the woman. “Skills?”
“I am a seamstress, my lord.” Olna shot her mother a sour look. “Just about the only useful thing she taught me.”
“You expect to raise a child alone on only the income of a seamstress?”
“I am not alone.” Her jaw took on a defiant angle as she turned and clasped Lorkan’s hand. “My child’s father will provide for us.”
“Through thievery and fraud?” Vaelin asked, fixing his gaze on Lorkan.
He saw an angry retort die on Lorkan’s lips, though the long-standing resentment still shone in his eyes. Although he had entered into the Liberation War willingly enough, it had been his love for his now-estranged wife that compelled him to suffer the great travail on the ice as they journeyed to Volaria and the battles that followed. Vaelin’s refusal to release Cara from her obligation and spare him an epic of suffering, albeit one he had ultimately survived to great acclaim, had clearly birthed a grudge. “As you know, my lord,” he said. “It was through your good graces that the queen herself granted me a pension in recognition of my service in the Liberation War.”
“She did,” Vaelin conceded. “I also know it is currently paid to various merchants, gambling houses and lenders the moment you receive it. Only last week Lord Orven was obliged to deal with a petition for your immediate arrest for non-payment of a long-standing and substantial debt, one he settled out of his own pocket.”
“For which I am grateful, my lord,” Lorkan told Orven with a bow.
“Lord Orven was driven by sentiment for an old comrade,” Vaelin said. “I am not. I am, however, minded to settle all your remaining debts and, once the annulment of your marriage is formalised, stand witness to your marriage to Mistress Olna. In return,” he added, seeing the burgeoning smile on Lorkan’s lips falter somewhat, “you will be enrolled in the North Guard for a period of five years, where your particular ability will be fully utilised.”
Lorkan’s smile had disappeared now and he stood regarding Vaelin with a naked animosity. “I’ve had my fill of war, my lord,” he said.
“Very well,” Vaelin told him, gesturing to the chamber entrance. “You are free to go. Be aware, however, that I will today issue an order forbidding any ship from carrying you away from the Reaches. You, sir, will stay here and provide for your child and its mother, even if I have to flog you into the mines to do it.” He held Lorkan’s gaze. “Honest service in the North Guard is preferable, wouldn’t you agree?”
Lorkan’s jaw bunched as his face reddened in anticipation of a no doubt highly unwise outburst. Whatever words had boiled up from within died when Olna clasped his hand tighter, moving close to whisper in his ear.