The Triumphant Return

by N M Zoltack

  “If you were me, you never would have left Xalac Island, would you have?” she asked more quietly.

  “I won’t presume to be you,” he said, perhaps the first smart thing he had said in ages.

  “Then do not presume to tell me that what I am doing is foolish. Do not presume that I have no plan, and that the plan is not unchangeable.”

  Bjorn pursed his lips, and she walked away. Her heart ached, her chest felt tight, and vulnerability squeezed her as if it would never release her.

  She wandered around the scene, imagining how the battle might have gone. Yes, she was not naïve. War meant multiple battles and casualties on both sides, but for the battle to have taken place here, where innocents would have been… Olympia was appalled at both sides. How could they have allowed this? Granted, it was possible, even highly likely, that those from Tenoch had not anticipated a battle at this location, which meant the potential number of innocents killed might have been far too high. Then again, only one dead was one too many.

  Olympia closed her eyes. Although her heart bled, she would not crumble. She would remain fierce and strong in the face of any adversity.

  Unbidden, Bjorn’s earlier claim came to mind. “If I hadn’t delayed you, you would be dead.”

  As much as Olympia was loathe to admit it, he might very well be speaking the truth.

  63

  Princess Vivian Rivera

  The days had been passing by, and Vivian was beyond ready to try to change her course in life. She was not a princess, did not want to wear the crown any longer. While her love for Atlan and all of Tenoch had only grown while she had been in absence, she wished to serve the throne in a different capacity. Vivian longed to exchange her crown for a helm. Would that be easy? Certainly not, but ever since the thought had crossed her mind, she could not deny how much she longed to pick up a blade and fight against the invaders.

  That settled, she decided it was time for her to seek out her sister and finally reveal every detail that had transpired before she had returned home. Rosalynne was not in her room, however, and it took some asking and running around for Vivian to learn that her sister was having a council meeting.

  Which meant Vivian had to put on her crown, for now at least.

  She marched herself to the council room and knocked on the door. A guard opened the door enough to see her and then paused when he recognized her.

  “Who is there?” Rosalynne called from inside the room.

  Vivian pushed the door open, forcing the guard to take a step back, and entered the room. “My Queens,” she said, falling into a perfect curtsey. Her time away could not make this well-practiced movement anything less than stellar.

  Rosalynne stood. “Princess Vivian, what brings you here?”

  “I wish to claim a seat at the council.” Vivian’s gaze went around the table. Many of the faces she recognized, but some she did not.

  Rosalynne glanced at Sabine, and Vivian did her best not to scowl. If she must, Vivian would press this issue. She deserved a seat, and Rosalynne knew it and should not deny it.

  A knight stood behind the queens, and she eyed him with his splendid shield and the broad sword at his hip. She had only daggers and other small weapons on her person at the moment, and she felt vulnerable without a blade with a longer reach.

  "This session is basically finished," Rosalynne said regretfully, "but, yes, of course, sister, you will have a seat at future meetings. Why would you not?"

  But Rosalynne held Vivian’s gaze, and the younger knew her sister was curious. As much as Vivian had complained and hated that she would never be queen, she had never truly shown much of an appreciation for council meetings and such. Perhaps it had been her rebelling against her family because she knew being the youngest meant that she would never by the ruler. Mayhap she never truly wanted the crown. Whatever the reason, Vivian was now highly invested in both the kingdom and its future.

  And how we will fare against the Vincanans.

  "Until tomorrow, then." Rosalynne nodded to those assembled and stood.

  One by one, the council members murmured their farewells and departed. Sabine was last to leave with her mother. It took everything in Vivian to not smirk at Greta. The princess could not stand Sabine’s mother or Sabine for that matter, yet it seemed her sister had warmed up some to the older queen. Vivian still needed to learn how that had happened, although she supposed that a truce between them for now at least was preferable than for Tenoch to be fighting against herself as well as the Vincanans.

  Once the door shut behind Greta, only Vivian, Rosalynne, and the knight remained. No maids, no servants, no other guards.

  Vivian eyed the guard.

  “You can speak freely in front of Sir Edmund,” Rosalynne said.

  Vivian grunted. When her sister raised her eyebrows, the princess shrugged.

  “What is troubling you?” Rosalynne asked as she reclaimed her seat and then gestured for Vivian to sit to her right.

  Vivian accepted the position of honor and smoothed out her skirt more to do something with her hands than because of any wrinkles.

  “Vivian?” Rosalynne prompted.

  “I ended up on a ship bound for Vincana,” the princess said softly. “For most of the time I was away, they knew me as Cateline Locke. I was trained for that time, and then I—”

  “Trained,” Rosalynne interrupted. “I do not understand.”

  “They thought I was one of them,” Vivian said calmly. “They had no notion who I was, that the missing princess of Tenoch was in their grasp.”

  “And how did you learn about the supposed Li princess?”

  “From their own tongues. Oh, and I was not the only one to slip past people’s unsuspecting noses. None other than Marcellus Gallus, the so-called Prince of Vincana, had been at the ball.”

  “That’s impossible,” Rosalynne said. “We would have seen him—”

  “He did not wish to dance with you or Sabine,” Vivian said mildly.

  “But he danced with you,” Rosalynne said flatly. “Did he recognize you? Did he know of… Cateline?”

  “He witnessed a few moments of my training, only a minute or so, and yes, we danced, but no, he did not recognize me.”

  “Vivian, that is far too dangerous of a game you are playing at,” Rosalynne said stiffly.

  “Yet, Father always said that I had the better tongue, that I could be sweet or like a viper depending on the scenario.”

  “Father.” Rosalynne’s nostrils flared, and she shook her head several times.

  Vivian furrowed her brow. Why did her sister seem so hostile and bitter toward their father?

  “The training…”

  It was the knight who said this, and Vivian smiled at him, eager to set aside any worries concerning her father and instead focus on the task at hand.

  “Wait, you mean you actually were not bad at it?” Rosalynne cried.

  “Is that so difficult for you to believe?” Vivian snapped. “I only trained for how long? Do you not realize how quickly I would have been discovered if I had not shown an aptitude for fighting?”

  Rosalynne said nothing, her expression quite comical. She slowly shook her head.

  “I am a fighter now,” Vivian said calmly.

  “You are a princess.”

  “A princess warrior then.” Vivian grinned. She liked that title very much.

  “But you never… You only ever wanted to dance and—”

  “Sword fighting could be considered a dance. A lethal one.”

  Rosalynne flinched.

  Vivian rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry. I forgot about…”

  “About how Rufus died in my arms at a ball? Yes, well…” The queen waved her hand. “How did you get from Vincana to here?”

  “I left on a ship that sailed for Xalac. Rosalynne, no one is there. The island has been abandoned. Although I wanted to sail for Maloyan, as I thought that the most likely destination for those from Xalac, we instead sailed for Zola. Th
e people there are starving, Rosalynne. They don’t have enough food, and no one from Tenoch has sailed to them in ages. They feel abandoned, so when the Vincanans promised them food, a great deal of them joined their cause.”

  Rosalynne flinched again. “I… I have been preoccupied…”

  “Are you the Queen of Tenoch or Tenoch Proper? Or only the Queen of Atlan?” Vivian winced at the bitterness in her tone. “Forgive me—”

  “There is nothing to forgive. What happened next?”

  “We sailed for Tiapan. Likewise, they have not seen anyone from Tenoch, but they seem to be doing well and wanted nothing to do with… with the Vincanans. I doubt they would want anything to do with us either. They seem to think themselves free.”

  “Oh, dear,” Rosalynne murmured.

  “Once we drifted near the shoreline, I jumped overboard and swam for the shore. I trekked across Tenoch to return home. I’m not a silly girl who dreams of marrying well and enjoying the comforts of living in a castle for the rest of my days. No. I’m a fighter, like I said, and I will not just sit around wearing fancy dresses.”

  “Or your crown,” Rosalynne muttered, eyeing the lack of adornment on Vivian’s head.

  “May I join the others on the battlefield?” Vivian demanded.

  “Vivian!” Rosalynne threw up her hands. “I can’t—You can’t—That is…”

  "If you wish to be my queen, then you will use me for the betterment of Tenoch," Vivian said softly but with an undercurrent of tension. "I can do far more on the battlefield than I can sitting about the castle all day. You wouldn't have even considered giving me a place on the council, would you have?"

  Rosalynne stared her sister down. “We will see,” she said evenly, but clearly, the request set her teeth on edge.

  Vivian rose to her feet. “No. It is you who will see,” she said, and she swept toward the door.

  64

  Queen Rosalynne Rivera

  The anger, the strength, the power in her sister’s eyes… Rosalynne could not be more upset or confused or baffled. The beautiful young lady marching toward the door looked like Vivian, but she did not talk or act like her anymore. It was to the point that Rosalynne did not even recognize her sister anymore.

  As for the notion of Vivian fighting against the Vincanans, that was preposterous. Rosalynne knew Vivian and her tendency to embellish matters. The queen was far too frightened that Vivian was overestimating her abilities.

  “If I may,” Sir Edmund said.

  Vivian had just reached the door, but she stilled, cocking her head to the side, listening while her back remained to them.

  “If the princess can best me in combat,” the knight said, “then perhaps she should be allowed to face the Vincanans.”

  “Edmund, it is not your place—”

  “I am merely offering to duel her.”

  Vivian whirled around and bowed. Bowed! As if she were a man!

  “I accept,” the princess said haughtily.

  “And if I…” Rosalynne stilled her tongue.

  If she forbade Vivian from the duel, her sister was liable to duel anyhow at a time and location Rosalynne did not know about, or else the princess might merely run off and try to hunt down Marcellus or the Vincanans one by one to try to kill as many as possible. No, far better for Rosalynne to witness the affair and ensure Vivian’s safety.

  “Very well. When—”

  “I can be ready in a half hour,” Vivian said eagerly.

  “As can I.” Edmund bowed to the princess and then to the queen.

  Vivian squealed as she had when she was given a new necklace and dashed out of the council room.

  “She is not a warrior,” Rosalynne grumbled. “Warriors do not squeal.”

  “Time will settle that matter,” Edmund said.

  “You better not hold back, but if you dare harm her…”

  The knight merely nodded. “Forgive me if I overstepped…”

  “No, I suppose this may be the only way for us to convince Vivian she cannot and should not be on the battlefield.”

  “But if she could pass among the Vincanan warriors—”

  "Until I have an heir, Vivian is next in line for the throne," Rosalynne said firmly.

  “Who would Greta be?” Edmund mused. “Queen Sabine is—”

  “The ruling queen. I know. I…” Rosalynne trailed off.

  The queen rubbed her temples. She should find someone to marry, but there was no time for her to find someone, not with the war.

  “Where will the duel take place?” she asked as she stood.

  "In the courtyard, perhaps."

  “Very well. See to it that Vivian knows the location, and I will attend. Of that, you can be certain.”

  “I cannot be certain I will win,” he said calmly.

  “You have been trained for years, all the way up the ranks—page, squire, knight. How can it be that you are frightened of a teenage girl who only just realized she was a ‘warrior’? At least a warrior in her mind.”

  “I have witnessed and fought against the Vincanans. They are formidable foes, and if she was able to maintain a high enough level of training that they never suspected her… And clearly, they must not have, or else they would have killed her or help her captive, but either way, they would have told you what they had done. No, she must be fierce, My Queen, as much as it may be hard to accept that. I do not know your sister. I do not know the princess, but I have seen her a few times now that she has returned, and the way she carries herself, the hard glint in her eyes… She is a soldier, My Queen."

  Rosalynne’s heart ached to hear this, and she waved the knight away so that he might prepare for the duel.

  What if Sir Edmund was right? What if Vivian had skill with a blade?

  What if Vivian forced Rosalynne's hand, fought on the battlefield, and died?

  I will never forgive myself if I allow that to happen. I cannot and will not lose my last family member, yet why does it feel as if I have lost her already?

  65

  Ulric Cooper

  The desire to talk to Queen Rosalynne compelled Ulric to visit the castle. Well, the desire to talk to her and the desire to see her. He also would not mind seeing the princess again. He was so thankful to all of the Fates that she lived yet—Life for keeping her alive, Death for not taking her, Peace for allowing her to not come to harm, and Chaos… well, clearly, Chaos did not harm her either.

  He discovered a small gathering about a portion of the field where knights train. Curious, Ulric headed in that direction and was beyond pleased to see the queen there, watching a bout between a knight and…

  Princess Vivian.

  Gone were the princess’s fancy clothes. Instead, she wore a long tunic and pants beneath, and the sword in her hand glittered in the sunlight. She easily parried a blow and danced to the side. Light on her feet, she moved swiftly. The knight had reach on her, his arms far longer than hers, but she dodged as many of his blows as she blocked or even deflected.

  But Vivian did not remain on the defense for long. She fought back, sometimes with two slashes instead of allowing him to block and counter.

  The knight brought his sword arm up to his ear and slashed out, aiming for her face.

  She ducked down, and the knight barely had time to bring down his blade to block the blow.

  Ulric could not help being amazed. He had been self-taught, and his own skills were lacking compared to hers.

  The former servant made his way toward the queen, who glanced over once he halted beside her.

  “Ulric, good day,” Rosalynne murmured, but she sounded both cross and worried.

  “It is a good day. Your sister is impressive.”

  “She is going to die a violent death just like my brother.” Rosalynne stared straight ahead, but he could see the sheen of liquid covering her brown eyes.

  “Perhaps that is her wish, to die fighting for her kingdom, to perish for the sake of you and your ability to continue wearing that crown.”<
br />
  As soon as the words left his lips, Ulric knew that he was also speaking about himself.

  “I do not want—”

  “War is war. People fight, and they win, or they lose, and they die, but it is on them.”

  “No, it is on the leaders of the two sides.”

  “It is far too late for a treaty.”

  “I know.” Rosalynne sighed heavily and lowered her head.

  Ulric flinched to the right just as Vivian did. To his surprise, whereas he would have feigned left and then gone back right again, she held her position almost too long before actually stepping to the left. She entangled their swords in such a way that when she yanked downward, the knight’s sword clattered to the ground. Instead of killing it away, she stepped on the blade and held the tip of hers beneath his chin.

  “I yield,” the knight called, holding up his hands.

  Vivian stepped back, removed a cloth from her belt, wiped down the sword, and then guided it back into the sheath at her side.

  “She knows how to handle that blade,” Ulric murmured.

  He glanced at the queen. Her face was far too white.

  “Rosalynne, if I may…”

  “I cannot. I cannot allow her to fight.” Rosalynne turned to him. The fright in her eyes made her seem so very human, no longer a queen but merely a loving sister.

  If only he could hold her, kiss her, assure her that everything would work… Of the three, he could only do the last.

  “Rosalynne, you should not stop Vivian from doing what she thinks needs to be done. We all have our own battles. Not all of them are on the battlefield. You are fighting as much as she will be, but you use words instead of swords and strategy instead of arrows.”