They waited on the front steps of the entrance hall, all the women she remembered and the children she had never seen. Her aunt Jeruvin, the deposed Duke’s widow. Her other aunt, the Duke’s brother’s wife. Her mother. Her male cousins’ wives and her female cousins, all their faces stony with hatred … only the children showed anything but hostility. The older male cousins—who should have been there, unless they’d been fostered to other houses—were nowhere in sight. They might be preparing an attack, or they might have fled.
She halted her mount and waited; the Royal Guard unit fanned out around her, and Valthan rode up beside her.
“By proclamation of the Crown Prince and the Regency Council of Tsaia, I present your new Duke, Dorrin—”
“We know who that is!” That was the Duke’s widow, Jeruvin. She glared straight at Dorrin. “Traitor! You are dead to us!”
“That is your Duke,” Valthan said. His hand dropped to his sword hilt. “Show respect!”
“That is no duke. That is a runaway, nameless, a traitor to this family and cast out long ago. It is an insult that it is here.”
Valthan started to speak, but Dorrin waved him to silence. “You, widow of Haron Vasli Verrakai, are under Order of Attainder, as are all here save the youngest children. You see this chain of office—you see this ring.” She held up her clenched fist. They would understand that, oh yes they would. “I am the Duke now, by order of the prince and Council—”
“Attainder!” That was her own mother. “What have I done to be attainted? What have any of us done that the prince should so maltreat us? I have had naught to do with Haron—”
“You lived under his rule; you chose to stay under his roof. You outlawed me.”
“You are no child of mine!” Her mother turned her back.
“True enough. I am your Duke, like it or not.”
“Liar!” One of her cousins, Syrila, flicked her hand and a bolt of flame spurted from it. “You are talentless, witless—”
Dorrin put out her hand and the flame vanished, to her own brief surprise. So easy? “Whatever you think, I am your Duke, and you will find it in your own best interests to stop this nonsense.”
Syrila fairly gaped, an expression Dorrin had long wanted to see on her face. “But you—you can’t—you never could—”
“I’m not a child now, Syrila. Don’t do that again.” Dorrin could feel, as if they were touching her, the shivers of apprehension that ran through the Royal Guard, Girdsmen all. They had been told; they had heard Marshal Berris agree that Dorrin must use magery against the mageborn if necessary. But now they had seen for themselves what they were up against—and what was on their side. Not a mercenary—not just a mercenary—and certainly not a Girdish paladin, but a magelord.
“Where did you learn—?”
“How much do you know—?” A torrent of questions, during which her mother turned again.
Dorrin held up her hand, and for a wonder they fell silent at the gesture alone. She wanted to use her magery as little as possible, not only to reassure the Girdish, but to convince her relatives that it did not take magery to defeat them. “That is not your concern,” she said, deliberately copying her uncle’s tone, but adding no power to it. “Your concern now is proving to the prince and Council that you are not as guilty of treason as Haron was. All adult members of the family will be transported to Vérella, there to stand trial—”
“Treason! I committed no treason!” Jeruvin stamped her foot.
“The court will determine that,” Dorrin said. “You will be escorted by the Royal Guard—” Her aunt’s expression shifted, showing exactly what she had in mind when alone with Girdsmen who had no magery. “—and,” Dorrin added, “I will bind your magery, for their protection. I doubt you can break my bindings, but should you do so, I will kill you myself.”
Jeruvin glared but said nothing more. Haron’s brother’s wife said, “When must we go? It is starting to thaw, and the roads are vile—”
“You will start tomorrow, at first light,” Dorrin said. The sooner she got the elder women out of the place, the better. Without taking her eyes off them, she said, “Kefer—assign someone the care of my mount.”
“At once, Capt—my lord Duke—” He said something she did not attend, being concentrated all on her relatives; she knew, and they knew, that a moment’s inattention would give the women a chance to attack, and she had no doubt they would. One of the soldiers ran forward to hold her mount.
Dorrin threw a leg over its neck and vaulted down without looking away; that impressed them, she could tell. The younger children were round-eyed, all but one boy who blurted, “I can do that, on my pony. It’s not hard.”
“Mostly you fall down when you try it, Bori,” said a girl, shoving him.
“I do it sometimes!” he said, shoving back.
One of the adults thumped both heads, and they fell silent, glaring at each other. Dorrin had to struggle not to laugh.
“Sir Valthan, attend me please,” she said, and headed for the steps. She felt a slight pressure as she reached the bottom step, and threw her power against it; it popped like a soap bubble. Was that really their strongest defense? Still looking Haron’s widow in the eye, Dorrin said, “Don’t do that again, Aunt, or I will drop you where you stand.”
“It wasn’t Jeruvin, it was I,” her mother said. “Would you dare flaunt your power against your own mother?”
“You said I was not your child,” Dorrin said. “Stand there, then, if you doubt me.” She was within arm’s length now; she touched her mother with her heart-hand forefinger and let her power out. Her mother stood silent, held motionless with one hand half raised.
Jeruvin, hatred blazing from her dark eyes, made some signal behind her back, and two of the younger women rushed forward, hands raised.
They slammed into the invisible barrier Dorrin raised, yelping with pain. “You only make it harder on yourselves,” Dorrin said. A wicked glee flickered in the back of her mind; she stamped it down. They already knew arrogance and bullying; they needed to see another kind of power, another kind of leadership. “Aunt, you have caused another injury to these young ladies. You must be still.” The magery for holding someone motionless took almost no energy at all; she extended it to all the adults in view, and then, without hurry, one by one, bound their magery. None had magery as strong as hers. Despite the Knight-Commander’s prediction, she was surprised. Was her power really that strong, or had theirs weakened over the years?
But she had no time to study that conundrum. The family she saw here, and their magery, was not all that menaced her. Somewhere men and older boys hid, planning an attack, unless they had run away. Somewhere servants lurked, possibly only frightened but possibly Liartians eager to do harm. “Captain, secure the outbuildings.” Dangerous work, but it had to be done.
“Yes, my lord,” Selfer said. “Search them as well?”
“For now, simply secure them.”
He bowed and turned away. She looked at the gaggle of relatives. “You will all be under guard in the great hall for now. If you give trouble, you will be shackled in the stables. When I release you, it is only for you to walk into the hall and sit down on the floor, where the Royal Guard directs. Children under ten will go to the safe nursery when I have found nurserymaids; suckling babes you may keep with you.” She turned her head a little. “Sir Valthan—proceed.”
They had discussed this; he knew what to do. Some inside the great hall, to watch the Verrakaien come in, tell them where to sit, and guard. Some to herd them in, as if they were sheep. Dangerous sheep.