They Gave the Doomed Duke the Wrong Bride novel · Chapter 31 of 32

Chapter 31: What Grows

I sat down on the cold step beside him.

His spear had slid off his knees in the night. His bell was still in his fist.

After a minute he woke with a jerk and grabbed for the spear.

"Nobody came in," he said at once, hoarse.

"I know."

"I didn't ring it. There wasn't anybody."

"I know. You did it right."

He looked at me sideways, in Everard's coat, with my hair everywhere.

"Was it a good wedding?" he said.

"The best one I've had."

"You've only had two."

"Then it's a very easy contest," I said, and he leaned his whole weight against my side and went back to sleep.

Summer came, and the March had things to sell.

Furs from the winter's trapping. Salt from the mine, which the King had given to Frostmere to work with paid men. Wool. Fish.

Mostly fish. The lake was full of them, and the freed men could spear them almost as well as Ned.

"Fish don't travel," the commander said. "Eleven days to Fennick in summer, and they'll walk there on their own."

"Mine don't spoil," I said.

So the March's first caravan went south in June with six wagons, and me.

Every morning the freed men speared the lake. Every morning I carried the catch into the Larder by the barrel, and it stayed exactly as it came out of the water.

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