A Throne of Swans

by Katharine Corr

  ‘But no one enforces the Decree that way, not any more! And to execute them in such a manner … In Atratys –’

  ‘Ah.’ Patrus holds up a stubby finger. ‘But we are not in Atratys, Your Grace.’ His smile fades. ‘You have no authority here.’

  ‘Neither do you – we’re not in Brithys either.’

  Patrus merely nods at the nearest torch-bearer. ‘Set them on fire.’

  The anticipation in his voice sickens me. I run between the encircling guards to block the path of the young man with the torch. ‘No further! I am a Protector – do you understand? I am niece to the king himself. And if you burn them –’ I hold up my bare hands, threatening – ‘I’ll burn you.’

  He stops. There’s fear in his eyes – doubt – reluctance.

  Patrus has gone red in the face. ‘Carry out your orders, or you will all be punished!’ He lifts the thick wooden rod he is carrying and brings it down across the back of the nearest guard. The man staggers and grunts in pain. ‘Hurry up.’

  One guard takes half a step towards me. ‘My lady, please –’

  ‘Aderyn?’ Siegfried is walking through the silent crowd. ‘Is everything well here?’ For a long moment he stares at Patrus. ‘Perhaps His Grace of Brithys would care to explain what he is doing in a town in my dominion?’

  ‘The man was found with a bow, Lord Redwing. In Brithys. His local lord –’ he flings his arm out to point at the orange-haired man crouching in the gallery – ‘seemed inclined to leniency. I am therefore in attendance to ensure that justice is done.’

  ‘Siegfried.’ I walk towards him and the guards back away from me. ‘They’re just children. I know what the Decree says, but this is barbarous.’

  He shakes his head. ‘The Decrees are what they are, Aderyn. And the flightless must know their place.’

  Patrus nods in agreement.

  I’m silenced. I don’t know exactly what I expected – that he would agree with me? That he would order a retrial? – but it wasn’t this.

  Siegfried sighs. ‘Come, don’t look at me like that. I cannot undermine the operation of local justice, especially in the borderlands. People must know that the Decrees will be upheld, or we risk a descent into chaos.’

  The smallest child moans, a wordless, terrified plea.

  ‘Please, my lord. At the very least, spare the wife and children. They are innocent. Their death serves no purpose.’ I step closer to him, gazing up into his face. ‘Siegfried, don’t make me beg.’

  A pause. Then Siegfried entwines his fingers with mine. ‘Very well.’

  ‘Lord Redwing, I must protest –’ Patrus begins.

  ‘You really mustn’t, Your Grace. Not if you want to be welcome at court when I am king.’

  Patrus, for once, is speechless.

  Siegfried looks back at me. ‘I’ll spare the woman and children for your sake, Aderyn. I make you a gift of their lives.’ He turns to the guards. ‘Cut them free and get them out of here. Then dispatch the man.’

  The guards hurry to carry out his commands. Within seconds the woman and her children are freed. She tries to go to her husband, but the guards drag her away, carrying the children after her. I can still hear her screaming his name when another guard thrusts a torch into the kindling piled up around the man’s legs, setting it alight.

  Siegfried puts an arm around my shoulders. ‘We should leave. I would not have you witness this.’

  I cover my ears and lean against him as we walk away. But it’s not enough to block out the woman’s howls of despair, or the dying man’s shrieks of pain.

  Nine

  We don’t stop until we are back at the lake outside the town. Siegfried has dismissed the guards who were trying to escort us. He hands me another vial of the potion and I drain it quickly, desperate to forget, at least for a little while, what I have just witnessed. Together we transform, and I follow Siegfried to the manor house he mentioned, down by the coast. It’s not a long journey; we’re soon at the landing platform, where a servant is waiting to hand us fresh robes. The building is of honey-coloured stone with large mullioned windows, a central tower and two wings stretching forward to enclose formal gardens. On the far side of the house the land falls away towards a beach of soft pink sand, and the sea beyond. Alone, we walk down to the entrance hall.

  ‘It’s a pleasant evening,’ Siegfried begins. ‘I’ll have supper served on the roof terrace, I think. We have some fine vineyards here which –’

  ‘How can you be thinking of food?’

  He smiles. ‘Because it’s suppertime, Aderyn.’

  ‘But that poor man …’

  ‘He was a criminal.’

  ‘He was probably just trying to feed his family. And no one should die like that. My parents would never have allowed it to happen.’

  A flicker of exasperation crosses Siegfried’s face, but he smiles again, and I wonder whether anything ever truly disturbs his self-control. ‘You may not remember your parents’ exact views on such matters. Are you so certain that nothing like that happens in Atratys? Have you visited every local landowner in your dominion and informed them how you wish the Decrees to be implemented?’

  Of course I have not. I stay silent, but my stomach growls. My companion chuckles and tugs on a bell rope.

  ‘You’ll feel better after you’ve eaten. And tomorrow we must leave early and fly fast, so I recommend you take my advice and come to supper.’

  I want to keep arguing with him, to slap him for his patronising self-assurance. But I am a guest in his house. So I clench my fingers into my fists and wait.

  A gloved, solemn-faced serving woman enters the hall and curtsies to me.

  ‘This is Gytha,’ Siegfried tells me, before turning to the servant. ‘Show Her Grace to the East Room, make sure she has everything she needs, then bring her to the top of the tower when our food is ready.’

  Gytha nods and leads me along candlelit corridors and down a flight of stairs. The East Room is pretty; the walls are covered with blue-sprigged wallpaper, and there’s a fire already burning in the tiled hearth. I sit on the window seat, hugging my knees, and look out to the horizon, where the sea and the sky are melting together into twilight. Gytha, still silent, lays out a change of clothing on the bed and fills a basin with hot, scented water. I wash, brush my hair and dress; the red gown is slightly off the shoulder and made of some soft, light fabric that clings. I wonder who in Siegfried’s family it once belonged to. I comb out my hair, then pick a book from the selection available and read until Gytha comes to get me.

  She leads me up almost to the top of the central tower before indicating with a nod that I should climb the last flight of stairs alone. I emerge onto a crenellated roof terrace. There’s a table – already set with oil lamps and dishes of food – and silk-cushion-covered benches in place of chairs. It’s dark now, but the air is still balmy, reminding me how much further south we are here than in the Silver Citadel.

  Siegfried is standing at one of the breaks in the wall. He goes to the table as I approach, pours some pale amber liquid into a silver goblet and hands it to me. ‘It’s a type of sparkling cordial that they make on the estate here. I think you’ll find it refreshing.’

  I take a sip; citrus-sharp bubbles burst across my tongue. ‘Delicious. Thank you.’

  He pulls out a bench for me to sit down and begins placing food on a plate. ‘I’ve dispensed with the servants this evening. These are all local specialities – I doubt you’ll have seen them before, so I’ll choose a selection for you, if you have no objection?’

  Since he’s already setting the plate before me, his question seems somewhat irrelevant. I wait until he has served himself and has sat down before asking, ‘What did the alderman say? Did he have any information?’

  ‘Yes. Though he was not particularly willing to divulge it. Hedged it around with all sorts of qualifications: someone might have seen something, someone else might know a location and of course it’s been so many years since the last defin
itive contact … He left me wondering whether silence is being extorted from the local flightless population and perhaps bought from the local lord. I will have to send some of my people from L’Ammergeia to look into it.’

  ‘So there are survivors from the Raptor Wars?’

  ‘It seems as if that book you found is more reliable than I’d assumed.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we go after them?’ I try to push the heavy bench away from the table. ‘If they find out that we’re looking for them –’

  Siegfried holds up a hand. ‘Calm yourself, Aderyn. Matters are already in hand. There’s no need for you to concern yourself.’

  ‘No need to concern myself?’ My voice rises a little. ‘But she was my mother. And it was my back that got ripped to shreds.’

  ‘Matters are in hand.’ He pours me some more cordial. ‘We have to return to the Citadel tomorrow, and there’s nothing to be done tonight. We may as well enjoy our time away from court. I like that colour on you, by the way.’

  He turns the subject, begins speaking of something else. I’m unwilling to let it drop. But I realise, sitting there alone with Siegfried on the roof of his house, exactly how much I have allowed myself to become dependent on him. The people I’m pursuing seem to be in his dominion. Unless he gives me his potions tomorrow morning, I won’t be able to fly back to the Citadel, or return to my human shape. So I swallow my pride, my guilt, and we talk of inconsequential matters: local customs, music, our shared love of stargazing.

  After we’ve eaten enough Siegfried turns down the lamps and we go to the wall to look out at the full moon silvering the sea. I’m not sure whether it’s the monotonous, unceasing rush of the tide on the beach, or some effect of the drink, but I feel caught out of time. As if this moment is everything; as if I could stare at the moon riding the waves forever.

  Until Siegfried’s lips brush the bare skin of my shoulder. He slips his arms around my waist, tugging me sharply backwards so that I feel his body and the warmth of him through the thin fabric of my dress. I can’t help gasping. Hastily I twist around in his arms.

  ‘Siegfried –’

  He crushes me against him and plants his lips on mine, kissing me deeply.

  Shock immobilises me. Until I realise, with horror, that my body is beginning to respond. Getting my palms onto his shoulders, I push him away. ‘No – stop!’

  He lets go of me and drags the back of his hand across his mouth, breathing hard. ‘But this is what we both want.’ A statement, not a question. ‘The first moment we met, I saw the loneliness inside you. And the desire. Tell me I’m wrong, Aderyn. Tell me that you don’t feel the same way. That you don’t want me as much as I want you.’

  I open my mouth to tell him that he knows nothing of what I feel, that we’re friends, nothing more. But I’m suddenly very aware of how far I am from home, and from the Citadel … I focus on the one fact that is undeniable. ‘Odette. You’re to be married soon.’

  He shakes his head and laughs, though there’s no humour in it. ‘Odette thinks she loves me, but how can she? We hardly know one another. Not really.’ He shrugs. ‘My relationship with her is a business transaction, organised by the king and my father. But you, Aderyn … When I agreed to marry Odette, I never expected to feel this way about anyone. I can’t stop thinking about you. Every moment of every hour …’ Reaching out for a lock of my hair, he twirls it in his fingers. ‘There’s no reason to be afraid of what we feel: thanks to Aron, everyone at court believes I’ve bedded you already. And no one really cares …’

  ‘I suspect Odette may care.’ I bat his hand away, grope for the words that will allow me a way out. ‘Odette’s my cousin, and I’m fond of her. And … And even if you don’t care for her at all, you still agreed to marry her. We can’t betray her like this.’ I turn away from him, back to the moon and the sea.

  Silence. And then he sighs. ‘Well, perhaps you are right. I believe there is a way we can be together, though perhaps it is not yet. But I trust that once I have proved myself to you, you will find me more … deserving.’

  I don’t know what he means, or how to answer him.

  ‘Aderyn, please … Will you not look at me?’

  Reluctantly I turn to face him again. He takes my hands, kissing both palms as he did earlier in the town.

  ‘I’m sorry. My passion for you is hard for me to master. Tell me you forgive me.’

  ‘I forgive you.’ How could I not? He is mistaken about my feelings for him. Very mistaken in his disregard for Odette. But he has helped me – is still helping me – and I can’t help feeling both grateful and sorry for him. ‘What do you mean, that there is a way we can be together?’

  ‘I’ll tell you soon.’

  ‘But –’

  He puts a finger to my lips. ‘Soon. It’s late. You should rest now. We have an early start.’ There’s a handbell on the table; he rings it, and Gytha appears almost instantly. I realise she must have been waiting there at the bottom of the stairs all this time, listening, and my stomach turns. ‘Take Her Grace back to her room. And be sure to wake her in good time tomorrow; we leave at dawn. Goodnight, my Aderyn. Sleep well.’

  I follow Gytha back down the stairs to my apartment. There’s a nightgown laid on the bed this time; she makes up the fire, pours some more hot water into the basin and withdraws, all without speaking a word. I undress and wash and get into bed. I blow out the candle. But before I fall asleep, I realise something. Something that leaves me numb. When Siegfried was kissing me, at the instant that I began to kiss him back, it wasn’t actually him I was thinking about.

  It was Lucien.

  At breakfast the next morning Siegfried makes no mention of what happened between us, and I wonder whether he regrets his behaviour, or has thought better of his assumptions. We leave the manor house just as a sliver of brilliant golden sun is peeping over the horizon. This is the first time I’ve flown such a distance in one stretch, and I’m dimly aware of the ache of muscles and lungs, if nothing else. When Siegfried transforms me back to human I realise that it is mid-morning: the landing platform is busy with nobles coming and leaving. Hopefully no one will have noticed our absence, or that we’ve returned together. We walk inside to the point where our paths separate. There’s a servant nearby, dusting the contents of one of the display cabinets that line this corridor.

  Siegfried leans forward to murmur in my ear. ‘I’m going away again tomorrow. Just for a few days, I think. To oversee the investigation that we’ve set in motion.’

  ‘Do you honestly think your people will find them?’ If these hawks really exist, and if they are the ones we’re looking for, they’ve successfully concealed their existence for the last two hundred years or more. All we actually have to go on are rumours.

  ‘I’ll find them. And I’ll bring them to you, Aderyn. And then …’ His lips brush my earlobe – I manage, just about, not to flinch. ‘Stay here. Be safe.’

  ‘The potion –’

  ‘I think you should stay earthbound, for the time being. It will do you good to rest.’ He grins, pushing back his damp blond hair with one hand. ‘We can’t have you thinking that you can do without me, can we?’

  A sweeping bow, and he’s gone. I turn away to my own apartment.

  Letya is in the sitting room; she is hopefully still the only one who knows where I was last night. There are various yellow woollen shapes spread out across her lap and the sofa.

  ‘Good morning, Aderyn. How was your errand? Did you find what you were looking for?’

  ‘Perhaps …’ I sit down next to her, as close as I dare, and try, through a mist of tiredness, to review in my mind every interaction I’ve had with Siegfried, every word, every touch. How did he come to decide that I would be happy to give myself to him? Did I do or say something that I shouldn’t have? We’ve spent a lot of time alone together, inevitably, but he was the one who offered me his help …

  ‘Aderyn?’ Letya is frowning at me. ‘Is there something wrong?’

 
; I press my fingers to my temples, not knowing where to begin, whether I should tell Letya about Siegfried’s kiss, or about the man burned to death merely for trying to feed his family … ‘What do you think about the Decrees, Letya? Do you think they’re fair? Do you think Odette will be able to change them, when she becomes queen?’

  My friend’s eyes widen. ‘Well, I can’t say I spend much time thinking about it. The world is the way it is.’ She peers at my face. ‘You look exhausted.’

  ‘I didn’t sleep well, and it was a long journey.’ I poke the yellow knitting on Letya’s lap, not wanting to think any more about Siegfried, and his expectations, and whether I’m able to turn back along the path that I’ve been travelling. ‘What are you making?’

  ‘A dress, for my brother’s youngest.’ She lays out the woollen shapes. ‘See, here is the front yoke of the dress, here is the back, the sleeves, the skirts.’

  ‘It doesn’t look much like a dress …’

  ‘It will when it’s made up. And then I’ll embroider skybells along the hem, in blue thread. My brother lives in Gartin, and they grow on the chalk escarpments there.’

  I know I visited Gartin as a child, but I can’t really remember it: a small town on a lake not far from Merl, mostly inhabited by ironmasters and their forges. ‘Lucien thinks we should go home straight after the royal wedding. Should you like that?’

  ‘Oh yes. To be back at Merl for the end of autumn, in time for the Blood Moon festival …’ She trails off, and I know she’s seeing the same image as me: the cliffs around the castle glowing red with crab-blossom. Each blossom falls from the tree after just a day and drifts down to the beaches and into the water. From a distance, it looks as if the sea is on fire.

  Letya resumes her knitting, and I worry at a piece of dead skin next to my thumbnail, going over Siegfried’s words to me. Does he love me? Is he perhaps reconsidering his marriage to Odette, hoping to marry me instead? Perhaps it might be an advantageous alliance, for Atratys. Better than being forced into a union with Patrus, or Grayling Wren. But I don’t love him. And yet, if I turn him down … I press the heels of my hands against my eyes.