by Alice Ivinya
“Do you know Growers who were taken?” the woman asked softly, bending down in her saddle. “Are you trying to rescue them?”
I nodded. “Some from my village, and I’ve met Prince Cedric. I was there when he was captured. He was... very kind to me.”
The woman considered me for a moment with wide eyes. They were rimmed heavily with kohl, which made them seem even bigger. Whereas Lilith looked delicate, ethereal, this lady looked earthy like a true Farthi. “Are you a villager?”
I nodded.
She muttered a curse and spoke in a low voice, avoiding eye contact with me. “Keep your wits about you, girl, and don’t trust anyone.” She returned her voice to normal, and spoke again. “Don’t worry, lady. I’ll not let him send you off to the Tharans.” I realised that Lilith had approached our conversation, eying us suspiciously.
She put a hand on my shoulder. “No need to console her, Lady May. She’s in good hands with me”
I turned to Lilith and I played dumb. “Why is everyone arguing? Can’t I just come here every day and make fields fertile? Won’t that solve the famine?”
Lady Lilith stuttered for a moment then said, “You’re very powerful Avan. We need to work out what you can do.”
I jumped as Lord Stanly’s loud voice cut through the mounting verbal chaos. “That’s settled then. Since I am about to become the new chancellor, I will supervise her ongoing training. The court can discuss how best to use her gifts in the meantime.”
The imposing lord pushed his horse around me and I felt Lilith curl her arm around mine like a snake. “We’ll take good care of you,” she whispered in my ear.
“I’m afraid that’s not your decision,” shouted a new female voice from behind. I turned with the other nobles and saw a young woman approaching. She was dressed in gems that caught the bright sun and threw it out into dancing fragments. Her black horse wore a harness woven with gold thread that shone and glittered.
The nobles gave her nods of the head or bows and Lady Lilith’s grip tightened, her mouth firming into a frustrated line.
“Princess Elenor,” nodded Lord Stanly. “We are merely deciding...”
The woman reined her horse sharply. “As I said, Lord Stanly, none of this is your decision. You are not chancellor yet. The mourning period for my father is not over. The chain of office hasn’t yet been recovered.”
I frowned. I had clearly shown the chain to the guard. Had he kept it? I squinted up at the princess and could see the similarities in the girl’s features to the older noble on the road. Surely Chancellor Felix had been on Cedric’s side? Could I trust his daughter? Hadn’t Cedric said she was married to his brother, Killian?
“My apologies,” said the Lord of Shire, nodding again. His voice was mild, but I noticed his leather gloves clenched the reins and one of his eyes twitched. “I meant no disrespect. This is only a small matter, your Highness. I did not think we needed to...”
“You’re right, Stanly, you did not think.” She clipped her words sharply. “This is the king’s business. The king and Prince Killian should have been informed about this demonstration. Everyone can see the potential this girl has to change the current state of affairs.” I noticed one of the men who had galloped off from the group standing behind her on a horse covered in thick lather. He must have ridden fast, and for Princess Elenor to appear so quickly, she must have already been on her way. A spy then, to report on the events while she got ready? She clearly thought this was important, which made me bite my lip uneasily.
Nobody replied to the princess, but saddles creaked as people shifted under her glare. I was impressed such a young girl could cow so many nobles into submission, especially the domineering Lord Stanly. She turned her cold expression to me. “Come, lady,” she said and wheeled her horse around before I could reply.
I slipped from Lilith’s grasp, mounted Conker, and kicked him after the glittering back of the princess. Conker seemed eager to leave behind the noise and commotion and for once picked up his pace when I asked.
Joff towered by my side, looking pale. “You’re being taken to the king, Avan. By the earth, if I’d known, I would have given you something finer to wear.” His face was grim. “I don’t know what manners you’re meant to have around a king, or how you’ll explain that you never knew you were a Grower. You were tested with all the other children by Mother Hilda on your tenth summer.”
I didn’t reply. My heart was pounding, making my pulse thunder in my ears, and my limbs ached after making the field fertile. The heat was making me sweaty and dizzy. I hadn’t bound my hair and could feel my ears burning. What, by the earth, had I gotten myself into? I was starting to see why Cedric had been so eager to leave.
As we entered through the high gate, and came under the welcoming shade of Herne’s trees, Prince Killian rode up to us at a trot with a group of guards and called to his wife. The guards wore orange tabards over chainmail, which bore the squirrel of Arden, and spread out around us, making sure people stepped out of our way. At the back I noticed one was a lightly built messenger, like the one who had ridden for Princess Elenor. Prince Killian spoke to his wife in hushed urgent tones, but she kept her regal and confident poise. She had to be at least five years his senior, or maybe she just appeared that way by being so composed and assertive while he was unsure. Cedric had said he was younger than both of us and I wondered how he had felt being married to an older, confident woman. I assumed it had been arranged by his father, just like Cedric’s marriage would be arranged. I looked at the beautiful, confident woman and felt very small.
The prince kept giving me surprised glances over his shoulder as he spoke to his wife, and I shrank back in the saddle, but secretly hoped he felt bad about dismissing me to Lord Rupert before. Finally, the princess pulled her horse to my side.
She pointed to the dagger at my belt. I had forgotten all about it. “That was my father’s.”
I nodded, brushing the hilt. “Yes,” I managed, feeling guilty. “Cedric gave it to me. I gave the chancellor’s chain to the guards to give to your family. Did they not give it to you? Sorry, I forgot about the dagger.”
“The chain is safe. You can keep the dagger as our thanks.” Her face remained cold and not very grateful. I attempted a smile in thanks. “You were there when my father died.” It was not a question, but I nodded anyway. “Tell me what happened.”
I thought of the man in the nest of bracken, choking on his own blood as he stared at the skeletal branches which clawed the sky above. “He was killed by one of Lord Jasper’s men,” I murmured. “He... he... his throat was slit.”
The princess flashed dark eyes at me. “Did you see it? Did you see a Tharan kill my father?”
“I...” I tried to blink the image away. “No. I only saw... after.”
“Was anyone else close when you saw him,” she demanded.
“Eh... no.” I frowned. Who else could have killed him? The only other people had been the villagers or Farthi soldiers.
The princess’s face remained unreadable. Prince Killian now rode beside her. He was much softer spoken than his wife, but he was frowning. “Why did you not declare you were a Grower?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t know until today. I didn’t know what to do until Lady Lilith showed me.”
The prince’s frown deepened and I could tell he didn’t believe me. “That is highly irregular, a girl of your age.”
I stared at the horse’s mane and didn’t reply. What could I say? That suddenly I could enter people’s minds, then do their Arts, only better? And the one person who seemed to know anything about it was a Tharan, who wanted me to experiment, and who was the kidnapper of Cedric?
“What are your motives in all of this?” The princess’s face remained blank, and her eyes unfeeling.
I shrugged, and looked back down. “I just want to help, if I can. Help get the Growers back from the Tharans. And Prince Cedric. And make sure the villages get enough food. Herne’s taken most of the Grower
s. They can’t survive by themselves. It’s hard to imagine how bad it is out there when you’re here.”
“And you’ve never met Lilith before?” asked the prince, shaking his head slowly.
“No.”
“You just happened to meet her in the street and get her to teach you the Arts,” stated the princess with a raised eyebrow.
I nodded. Prince Killian sighed and rubbed his forehead.
I felt a surge of annoyance. I was trying to help, had hopefully provided them a way to rescue Cedric, and they all seemed cross. “I can leave Herne if I’m not welcome,” I muttered. It sounded more sulky than I had intended.
“Avan,” warned Joff with a cough.
The princess narrowed her eyes. “You are welcome here, girl. You just don’t understand the complications you are causing in court.”
I met her gaze, exasperated. Didn’t they care about anything outside of Herne? I wrestled my voice into submissive tones. “The villagers are on the way to starvation and the Tharans are getting bolder. Marchwood is dying. I don’t understand. Why are you not happy for me to Grow as many fields as quickly as possible?”
“You should watch what you’re implying,” muttered Prince Killian, with a dark look. It was strange seeing disapproval from a face so similar to Cedric’s. It hit me in the stomach and threw me off balance for a moment.
“The king will decide what you do, or do not do,” said Princess Elenor, her eyes forward. “You are under his command.”
“A friendly piece of advice,” muttered Prince Killian, still disapproving as he looked away from me. “I would speak as little as possible to my father.” I felt annoyance again as this boy, years younger than me, spoke to me like I was nothing. Did the fact that I could Grow better than all of them mean anything?
Princess Elenor looked at me flatly before spurring her horse forward. Prince Killian followed, shaking his head. I had to either fall behind or follow them.
Joff grabbed my shoulder. “Avan, these are the rulers of Marchwood. You don’t question them.”
I bit my lip and flicked the reins. “Sorry. I... they’re acting as if I’ve done something wrong when I’m trying to help.”
His eyes were tight with worry, his body slumped as if he wished he could disappear. His tone was rough and exasperated. “You will need all the friends you can get. You’re old enough to know better.”
I squirmed; he was talking to me like a child, but I was unable to argue with him. I kicked Conker after the royal pair before Joff could tell me off for sulking. It seemed I was one of the most powerful Growers in the country, but I was still a dissapointment. I felt just as useless and as weak as ever.
When we reached the castle, a groom took our horses and Joff was told to stay with them. He looked relieved and I felt a pang of betrayal, thinking again of him riding off without me from the Tharan ambush. However, a servant came with a parchment and asked Joff to sit with him. It looked like he was about to be questioned about my background. His cheeks reddened and he resumed his fidgeting. I felt a stab of guilt for causing him so much trouble.
The princess led me icily to a waiting room, her dark cloak looking ridiculously long now she wasn't on a horse and it dragged behind her, sparkling in the light of the lamps. I settled on an embroidered chair and fiddled with my shawl, deeply regretting my hasty words that had not helped our relationship.
“Oh, Cedric, what do I do?” I muttered into the empty room. I pictured his warm smile, his ridiculous optimism, his overwhelming honesty. How had he come from a place like this?
Hours passed and I watched the sun drag the shadows across the room. I inspected the carpet, vivid with roses, then the fireplace wrapped in carvings of oak and ivy. Finally, I set to pacing. My legs were heavy and protested but it was better than sitting still. A servant brought me a goblet of watered wine and bread and hard cheese. I nibbled the latter while I paced before realising I was dropping crumbs on the floor. I leant against the wall while I finished eating and studied the faded tapestries.
The closest wall hanging was a map of Marchwood. There was a blank smudge in the middle that had to be the sulphur plains, bordering both sides of the River Herne south of the capital. Seeing them laid out like that, I was amazed at their scale and how they forced all the roads between the southern villagers and Herne into wide loops west and east. It wasn’t actually that far between Herne and Vale as the crow flies. If those plains weren’t there so much would change. It would be easier to travel, easier to Grow food, there would be miles of fields watered by the river. I reached out and touched the bare tapestry at the heart of our country. Maybe this was something I could try. Section by section, maybe I could reduce the sulphur plains. Then the famine would be over and the Tharans would release their Growers and be appeased. Trade would increase between Vale and Herne. Everything would go back to normal. But surely Growers had been trying for generations to make the sulphur plains fertile, yet they were as big as they had always been. But even if I would probably fail, I still wanted to try.
It was long past dark when I was finally summoned by a servant wearing the squirrel of House Arden. The servant opened the door to a private office, bowed, and shut the door behind me. I had been imagining a grand audience chamber with guards and servants, not this simple room with a desk, behind which sat an aging man who had none of Cedric’s kindness in his eyes. He had large bushy eyebrows and a thin woven circlet of twigs around his head with small Grown leaves of crimson that caught the firelight like rubies. I curtsied deeply on the floor and waited, eyes downcast.
“Rise and sit,” sighed the king as he flicked a hand to shoo me into a chair.
I rose and sat in the hardwood chair. The king was arranging a pile of various documents across his desk.
“You are from Vale, a village in the estate of Greater Dale, correct?”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“And you just Grew an entire field of barley at once?” He didn’t look up from the documents.
“Yes, your Majesty.” I wrung my hands together in my lap, hidden by the folds of Klia’s dress.
His cold blue eyes flicked above the parchment to meet mine. “In front of half the court,” he said flatly.
“I’m not sure who they were, your Majesty. Lady Lilith brought them.”
He snorted. “A very public way to display your Gifts, don’t you think? Hiding them until you had the most publicity and effect?”
I couldn’t help but fidget under his dissecting gaze. “That wasn’t my intention. I...”
The king cut me off by sighing and leaning back in his chair. “You wish to impress the court enough to win the hand of my son. Is that what this is all about?”
My heart leapt. What? “No... I just...” My words dried up with my courage under that cold stare.
King Joseph steepled his hands and leaned forward. He had a pained expression on his face, as if his very words tasted foul. “Miss Weaver, I need to make something very clear. I don’t know what happened between you and Prince Cedric in those two days you were together, but it ends now.” I looked at him in shock. I had been completely ignored and dismissed for days, but now, not only did the king know my name, he knew what had happened to me. He waved a letter at me. “This came from north Tahara, from my son. He was allowed a short note as the result of discussions I’ve had with Lord Jasper. I needed to know he was being treated well and appropriately and that his capture was genuine. Instead of his note detailing how to get him out of this mess, or anything remotely useful, Cedric mentions you.” King Joseph slapped his hand against the table. “He wants to know that you arrived safely. He wants me to personally oversee you getting a position. He was allowed five lines and you are in half.” He shook his head. “I’d wager half of Marchwood that my son thinks he is in love with you, which is ridiculous after just two days, and in stressful circumstances. I remember what it was like to be his age and feelings can betray you when you are simply grateful to be alive. Do you understand?
”
I swallowed hard and nodded. My stomach twisted at that word; Love. Surely he couldn’t love me? What, by the earth, had Cedric written to his father?
The king’s bushy eyebrows frowned so low, they completely shadowed his eyes. “You are completely unsuitable for him, do you understand?”
I nodded again. Of course I was. There was no way I could ever imagine myself as queen. I couldn’t even wash clothes very well, let alone run a country. If it meant playing games with this court, I didn’t think I wanted to be queen.
The king took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I feel that we need to have a frank conversation, as your position in this country is now very... ambiguous.”
I re-crossed my legs and pressed my feet together to stop myself fidgeting again. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
The king looked my simple clothing up and down. “You are hardly a laundry girl anymore. You are now the most powerful Grower Marchwood has ever seen.” He paused as I stifled a gasp. There was no flattery or exaggeration in his voice. The most powerful ever? “As such, I wish for you to come to court so we can explore uses for your gifts. You will move into the castle and have your own room. You are of marrying age and are suitable for a husband. The ambiguity of your station will cause issues, not least because you have Prince Cedric’s favour.” He sighed and rubbed his eyebrows. “You are new to court and extremely naïve. You must accept you have much to learn and learn it quickly.” He paused and fastened his gaze on mine so I could barely blink. “Here is where I will assist you. Prince Cedric’s sway in the court is tenuous. Many people think he is not the best choice for my successor, himself included. People are working against him, and he is not always quick at defending himself. He is a dreamer, not a plotter or a realist. I plan to quickly marry him to a wife who is excellent at politics, and who can defend him. She will come from a powerful family who will quell the opposition to ensure she becomes queen. If this doesn’t happen, Prince Cedric will likely end up dead.”