Firebrand

General Washburn, who had replaced Harborough as the commander of all the military, said, “In the king’s absence, it is crucial she—”

“Enough,” Vanlynn said. “Your queen has many duties on behalf of the realm, and right now the most important is to carry and birth two healthy children. You should be ashamed of yourselves for letting these strategic planning meetings get out of hand, as if the strain of having her husband taken from her was not enough, not to mention the horror of having lived with that elemental creature who impersonated him. From now on, no more meetings, no more bringing problems to the queen.”

“But—” Javien began.

Vanlynn turned her frosty gaze on him. “No more. In fact, I am going to limit how much any of you can see her. The four of you will have to do the hard work. And that’s how it’s going to be.”

Laren applauded Vanlynn’s fierce stance. The queen and her children were too precious to the realm to endanger unnecessarily.

“Now, she does insist on seeing you lot,” Vanlynn continued, “but we’re keeping it short. You will not annoy her with the problems of the realm, understood?”

They allowed that they did, and Washburn even threw his shoulders back and clicked his heels. They filed after Vanlynn into Estora’s bed chamber. Laren spotted Ben immediately at Estora’s bedside, but he retreated to a corner to stay out of the way. Jaid set a tea tray on the bedside table, nodded to the newcomers, and exited the room. The Weapon, Ellen, stood discreetly in a corner, and Estora’s secretary, Ulf, attended nearby. The queen herself looked well-ensconced in her bed, none the worse for what must have been panic at the premature sensation of labor. In fact, she looked healthier than ever with her cheeks rosy, her face and breasts full.

“Good afternoon,” she said.

As one, Laren and her fellow counselors bowed.

“I am sure that Master Vanlynn has given you her commandments?” Estora said.

“Indeed, she has, my lady,” Les Tallman replied, “and I think that I speak for all of us when I say how relieved and pleased I am that you are well. Also, know that you may rest easy, for the realm’s business will be in competent hands.”

She reached for her teacup, took a sip, and peered at them over the rim. “I certainly expect so. Master Vanlynn will allow brief visits from each of you so that I may receive daily reports of what is happening in the realm. Ulf will schedule your appointments accordingly. Master Vanlynn says I have done enough today already, but there is one thing I must have done before you leave. Ulf? Please bring me the coffer.”

The secretary hastened to her side with a cherrywood coffer. She set her teacup aside and placed the box on her lap.

“Laren Mapstone, please approach,” Estora said.

Laren raised her eyebrows. Her fellow advisors looked as surprised as she felt. She obeyed and stepped up to Estora’s bedside.

“It occurs to me,” Estora said, “that this is long overdue for you have served this realm faithfully, and with courage and professionalism, for many years. I can only guess it was not done before because of tradition. The Green Riders have only ever had a captain to lead them since the founding days. It makes sense—the messenger service is a fairly small, independent unit. However, the times are growing more turbulent, and I wish to show my personal gratitude to you, as well as demonstrate the throne’s support for the leader of the Green Riders. I want you, Laren Mapstone, to be endowed with greater authority to accomplish your work.”

Was this, Laren wondered, what she thought it was? Another glance at her fellow advisors revealed Les Tallman grinning, Javien remaining as inscrutable as ever, and Washburn scowling. She returned her attention to Estora, who was lifting the lid of the coffer. Inside, seated on green velvet, was gold-braided cord. A lot of it. The kind that officers of high rank wore on their shoulders. Laren’s eyes went wide. She had to clamp her mouth shut.

“I have found your captain’s knot,” Estora said, “inadequate for the challenges ahead.”

Along with the copious gold cord were nested two sets of rank badges—two north stars and a crown each, designating the rank of colonel—to go on her shoulders. Ulf, the secretary, took the coffer from Estora and presented it to Laren with a bow.

She accepted it into trembling hands. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you generally works,” Les Tallman said.

“Yes, yes, thank you.”

“Congratulations, Colonel Mapstone,” Estora said. “I would have liked to have conferred your new rank in front of your Riders, but Master Vanlynn would not have it.”

Ben, from his place in the corner, grinned and saluted, and to Laren’s astonishment, so did Ellen.

“Colonel?” Washburn demanded. “There are no Rider colonels.”

“There seems to be one now,” Javien said in his characteristically droll manner.

“But one cannot skip ranks. You cannot—”

“General,” the queen said, “Colonel Mapstone has been doing the duty of a general longer than you have served in the king’s military. The Riders are the king’s own messengers, and the queen’s. We will promote Our Riders as We see fit. We do not have to explain Ourselves.”

“But—”

“General,” Les Tallman said mildly, “remember whom you address. The queen decrees as she wills.”

The general, chastened and cheeks glowing red, clicked his heels together and bowed to Estora. “Forgive me, madam.”