The Changeling

by Jennifer Lyndon

-CH 12-

  After setting off again in the afternoon for Vilkerdam, I was left to ruminate over the terrible events of the day, and the tasks that lay ahead of me. All of my guests with training in combat arts had fought for me against the Borderling raiders and my disgraced guards. That at least was reassuring. Kolten had remained loyal even against his own twin sister. No sooner had I formed the thought than I heard the words in M’Tek’s seductive voice, “Loyalty must be rewarded.”

  I took a deep breath, banishing the memory of her hands moving over me. This separation was already painful and I’d only left her a few hours earlier. With effort I brought my mind back to the situation at hand.

  The three Vilken guards remaining to me would be promoted to high rank, and the estates of the traitors were in question. Lord Roland’s family, the House of Darthrue, was a very powerful one, though far less so since the losses they suffered fighting my uncle to help me regain my throne. Punishing the House of Darthrue for Lord Roland’s actions seemed shortsighted, not to mention ungracious, but I knew some action was necessary. Both my company, and the Fae who had fought to defend us, witnessed the act of treason committed by Lord Roland. Still, he was in M’Tek’s custody, which meant he would possibly never be seen again. I never learned the fate of my uncle, the false king. Likely, Lord Roland would disappear as well. Maybe the sanctioning of his family could be avoided.

  It was strange riding Twyneth, with his stride so dissimilar to Sabea’s, longer, and slower. As my body moved with his ambling gate, I felt every bruise and battered part of my body crying out for rest and comfort. I glanced down at my changed clothes, hastily retrieved from my trunk before my party set out again. My orderly surface, the fresh tunic and breeches, masked the damage my body had suffered, the dried blood still covering my flesh beneath the crisp, neat exterior. I craved a long, steaming soak in M’Tek’s oversized copper tub, our soft bed at the cliffs, and M’Tek’s gentle arms holding me. At least a soak was possible.

  Even Pet had returned to Lareem Palace with M’Tek, having lost enough blood that she was too weak for the voyage home with me. Home. The word felt misused in the context of the lonely welcome I anticipated at Vilkerdam Palace. Suddenly I felt alone, isolated among strange people, a changeling among my Vilken subjects. I wanted nothing more than to turn back from my return journey, to race Twyneth in the direction of Lareem Palace and the warmth of M’Tek’s arms. I felt Pet’s absence too, and knew in that moment, they were my true family, and the only people I could trust or love.

  My dark thoughts must have shown on my face, as Shiroane appeared alongside of me, wearing an expression of concern. I forced a smile, and Shiroane tilted her head, studying me.

  “Are your injuries troubling you, my Queen?” Shiroane asked in a subdued tone.

  “Only my thoughts trouble me, Shiroane,” I confessed. I wanted to tell her I’d made a mistake, allowing M’Tek to sweep me along in her passion. If I’d been more cautious, refused her even, the attack would not have taken place and the captain of my personal guard would not be headed for imprisonment, torture, and likely execution, in Faeland.

  “I see. After such betrayal I understand your concerns, but Fae guards protect you now. We have honor. No one will get so close to you again. The remainder of our journey will be uneventful,” Shiroane offered, attempting to ease my mind.

  “Thank you,” I said, touched by her concern. “I feel safe with you.”

  “Is there anything I might do to ease your mind?” she asked.

  “Maybe” I replied, forcing another smile. “Do you know about M’Tek’s illness?” I asked quietly and in Noge, addressing what really scared me the most. Shiroane glanced about her, suspicious of the Vilkerlings within hearing range. “After an entire season amongst you, they scarcely understand three words in twenty of Fae,” I assured her. “There is no risk that they understand Noge.”

  Showing possibly more caution than was warranted, Shiroane caught Twyneth’s rein and led me from the line. Once we’d achieved a good distance from the others she released Twyneth and we started moving again. It took a moment before she began talking. “Queen M’Tek has always suffered this diminishing,” Shiroane said quietly. “Everyone knows, but it isn’t spoken of, even among her guards.”

  “Do you believe it’s serious?” I asked. Shiroane studied me a moment before answering.

  “You would not have coerced her into visiting the sorceress Sim’Nu if the disease weren’t progressing,” Shiroane whispered, easily revealing that she saw me more clearly than I had realized. “The Queen was once exceptionally vital. No one could equal her. I see her tire more quickly now. It worries me, I admit,” she added. “She fought well today, like the Fae Queen of legend,” Shiroane continued. “But still, I can see the diminishing slowly taking hold of her.”

  I was surprised Shiroane had been so candid with me. I felt compelled to reciprocate. “The sorceress was there today,” I offered. “She fought on the side of the Borderlings.”

  “You saw her?” Shiroane asked, surprise evident in her tone.

  “I did. M’Tek also knew she was there,” I added. “Sim’Nu will not help M’Tek again.”

  “I fear the days to come,” Shiroane whispered. “We will be lost without the Queen. We’ve had a golden age under her rule. The times to come, I’m afraid, will be drenched in blood.”

  “No. You’re wrong. M’Tek is not going to die,” I said sharply. “I’m going to keep her alive or die trying. Will you help me?”

  “I’ll do anything. You need only ask, my Queen,” she said.

  “Please, Shiroane, I want you to call me Lore,” I said, struggling to contain my frustration with the events of the day. “I’m sick to death of all this protocol. Everyone calls me their queen, constantly, and they bow at every opportunity, displaying obsequious submission. My own guards attacked me this morning, and every one of them called me their queen and bowed to me only hours before.” Shiroane didn’t reply, but appeared uncomfortable for a moment. I pushed on. “Never mind. Call me whatever you choose. It’s essentially unimportant. Regardless, I’m not going back to Vilkerdam Palace,” I continued. “I want the three Vilken guards I have remaining to me, and whichever Fae guards you choose, to escort my guests back. Select whomever you trust most to accompany us north. We’re going into the Western Noge Territory,” I finished.

  “Queen M’Tek commanded me to escort you to Vilkerdam to await her arrival,” Shiroane pointed out. “You’re not to travel beyond the palace walls without her.”

  “I thought you were the captain of my guard. Are you protecting me or holding me captive for M’Tek?” I asked sharply. “If I don’t go into the Western Noge Territory to find a cure, she’ll die. You told me you’d do anything to save her, Shiroane. Are you true to your word?”

  “I’ll give the orders,” Shiroane replied.

  I watched as Shiroane rode through the guards, separating them, sending two Fae foreword with the Vilkerlings, channeling the others to the back of the line, to surround me. After the upheaval Shiroane returned to my side.

  “When do we break ways with the Vilken party?” she asked quietly.

  “After we stop for our next rest,” I replied, relieved to finally be doing something constructive.

  I sent one of my Fae guards ahead, to the first estate I knew we were to reach. She had to ride through the night to give adequate warning of my arrival, but by the time we reached the estate, they were prepared for us. I planned to spend as long as it took, scouring every library in the Western Noge Territory. I was determined to find the answer to this puzzle of a disease threatening the woman I loved.

  Word of my likeness to Sarane, and the probability that I was in fact that beloved Queen reborn, had clearly spread from the Eastern Noge Territory into the west. And so, the family treated my arrival as a spectacular event. I was again shown portraits of Sarane, for which I was forced to pretend admiration. The most impressive portrait held a place of great honor in the fa
mily room. This particular family claimed descent from Sarane’s cousin and therefore truly believed we were family. They brought this claim into conversation at every opportunity, forcing me to indulge their irrational assertions of a familial bond with me. I went along with every request made of me, determined to coddle my hosts, even deigning to call them cousins. I attended parties thrown throughout the week, and visited all of the neighboring estates, spending extra time visiting those in possession of illustrious libraries.

  Soon, my interest in the great Noge libraries was commonly known throughout the territory, and requests were arriving from all over, bragging of celebrated collections of ancient Noge texts, and overstating tenuous links to my ancestry. I sent acceptance letters to each offer of hospitality I received. If it took me a year, I planned to infiltrate every single library to which I could gain access.

  It was during my visit at the fourth estate on my journey, also some distant cousins, apparently, that I received my first communication from M’Tek. The letter was not the sweetest she’d ever penned, but it was by far the most passionate. She had dispensed with even the smallest attempt at hiding her feelings behind civility, as she berated my obstinate and impulsive nature. She used the Fae invective Deus several times, as well as a couple of other Fae expletives I was up to that point unfamiliar with, and signed it with only the first initial of her name, an angry slap of an M across the bottom of the page.

  As I folded the most impassioned letter I’d ever received from my beautiful mate, preparing to use it as a bookmark, I understood that M’Tek was angry with me. Still, I couldn’t prevent the smile that spread across my face throughout the remainder of the day. In her letter she wrote that she was setting off immediately in pursuit of me, in the Western Noge Territory. She planned to discuss my idiotic behavior with me in person. I calculated that she was probably only four days behind her letter, which had traveled from estate to estate until reaching my hands.

  When I came across Shiroane later that morning, she was not as excited to learn of M’Tek’s impending arrival as I had been. Apparently she’d also received a letter, threatening her with various forms of punishment, including imprisonment for the rest of her natural life. I had to reassure my faithful and devoted guard that she was no longer M’Tek’s captain, but mine, and I planned to reward her loyalty to the both of us.

  It was during my visit to the fifth estate of my tour that M’Tek finally caught up with us. She appeared without warning, demanding admission through the outer gates of the estate, for herself and her newly assembled guard of fourteen. I felt a twinge of discomfort as I imagined the shock my hosts must have suffered upon seeing the formidable Fae Queen in all her glory, storming their gates, armed, and not in the gentlest of moods.

  I made formal introductions between the family, who were more of my potential relatives, and M’Tek, as she glowered at me. Her menacing gaze left me only long enough to truly terrify Shiroane. Still, M’Tek was civil, if reserved, with the family. As quickly as was feasible, I led M’Tek away, in the direction of my rooms. Shiroane, of course, made herself scarce.

  “Suddenly I don’t know what to say to you,” M’Tek observed coldly, as we made our way up the main stairs. “I’ve done nothing but imagine what I would say when I caught up with you. I even planned out a speech detailing your selfish, thoughtless, impetuous behavior and the torment you’ve put me through, but now I’m with you, I’m at a loss. Words fail me. And you’re not at all sorry, are you? You don’t care what anguish you’ve put me through.”

  “I love you,” I replied, catching the faintest scent of citrus from her skin, and offering an innocent smile. “All I can think about just now is having you in my arms again.”

  She was quiet for the remainder of our walk to my rooms, but when I closed the door she turned to face me, still fuming. I approached her cautiously; aware she was extremely angry. I gingerly slipped my arms around her waist and pressed my body against hers, and was relieved when she didn’t push me away. After a few moments of holding out, the rigidity left her as her arms came around my back.

  “I’ve never been so furious with anyone before,” she admitted. “You did this just to upset me. Admit it!” she demanded. I shook my head. “You wanted to prove I couldn’t control you, or even my own guards, apparently.”

  “No,” I said. “That’s not at all what I wanted.”

  “I specifically told you that you were not to travel without me,” she snapped. “Shiroane is good at what she does, but she doesn’t understand the risks now. How did you manage to make her disobey me?”

  “I’m sorry,” I replied.

  “Enough! We both know you are not sorry,” she snapped. “I won’t be patronized, Lore.”

  I loosened my arms and tried to step back, but she held onto me. Her lips pressed a kiss to my temple and she sighed her frustration into my hair. I raised my face to look into her eyes, only to see she was still incensed. I pulled away from her and took her hand, leading her over to the sofa.

  “Can’t we argue about all of that later, M’Tek? I’ve missed you. Tell me what you’ve been doing,” I said, trying to calm her down. “Tell me how you dealt with the Vilken traitors. Is Lord Roland still alive?”

  “My prisoners are my concern,” she snapped. I nodded.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” I replied, diverting my gaze. “I never wished him dead. I considered him a friend. He was the first Vilken Lord to leave my uncle’s service and pledge fealty to me.”

  “He’s alive,” she said, softening. “Though he might wish he weren’t. His accommodations aren’t the best, and his injuries from the battle have healed badly. He lost an eye, and the use of his right arm,” she explained. “Still, I needed information from him, and he provided it rather willingly. I had no need to harm him further.”

  “His ear was pretty mangled when I saw him last,” I commented. M’Tek nodded.

  “It might not be pretty, but he can still hear out of what’s left of it,” she said evenly.

  “Do you think I’ve lost my throne?” I asked, hardly caring at that point. She shook her head.

  “No. Those Vilken savages seem surprisingly attached to you. My spies tell me your little disappearing act actually has them worried,” she observed. “Now that I know where the potential problems lie, I’ll root them out,” she added. “This will all smooth over in time, if you return that is.”

  “So, you’ve been securing my throne while I’ve been off on vacation,” I said, trying to lighten her mood.

  “You’re not on vacation, Lore,” she replied, sounding slightly exasperated. “You’re working. I imagine you’ve enjoyed your time here among your family slightly less than Lord Roland has enjoyed his cell,” she observed. “You hate being fawned over and compared to Sarane.”

  “You’re right. I do,” I admitted.

  “The Noge are usually a very restrained people. Once they get this obsession with Sarane out of their systems you’ll like them better,” she assured me, sounding more like my M’Tek.

  “I hope they tire of me soon,” I replied, “now that I’ve had the run of their libraries.”

  “You still believe you’ll find a cure?” she asked, raising her eyebrows derisively and slowly shaking her head.

  “I know I will. I have part of it already,” I offered, smiling with enthusiasm despite the skepticism evident in her expression. “I toured this dreadful, dilapidated estate a couple of days ago. You may know it. Breosore?” I asked. M’Tek shook her head. “The family is an ancient one, the House of Gere. They’ve fallen on hard times in recent generations as a result of the decades long draught this region has suffered.

  “Unfortunately for the House of Gere, they grow a quite rare, and very thirsty, variety of cloudberries, in order to produce sparkling berrywine. They’re too stubborn to change to a less temperamental berry. After an extremely long and depressing tour of their miserable, blighted crop, where I learned more than I ever wanted to know about the
struggles inherent in the cultivation of cloudberry bushes in an arid climate, I was finally escorted through a shutoff portion of the manor house and allowed access to their library.

  “My heart was pounding when I crossed that threshold. I knew it was ancient, though nothing so imposing as your library at Lareem Palace, or even mine at Vilkerdam. Instead, I wandered through an extraordinarily derelict series of dark, close rooms, smelling of a mixture of rotting flesh and sour goat’s milk. Everything I touched was coated in a layer of grey dust and sticky cobwebs, leading me to conclude those rooms had been undisturbed for a century or more. After countless hours ensconced in that vile place, I was rewarded with an unusual book. The language is so old I can’t completely decipher it, and the punctuation is strange. Still, what I have gleaned applies to your condition.”

  M’Tek looked less excited than I would have expected. Still, she tried to appear interested for my sake. Propelled by such underwhelming encouragement, I stood up from the sofa and went to retrieve my prize from the corner of the sitting room. I returned carrying the heavy, odiferous book, still wrapped in thick cloth so I could avoid touching it. I opened the book, and carefully placed it across her lap, presenting it to her, as a cat presents a dead mouse. She raised a delicate hand across her nose and mouth in reaction to the stench of putrefaction wafting from the pages.

  “Deus!” she exclaimed. “Do they house the dead in their library?”

  I ignored her complaint, instead directing her attention to the passage I found most compelling. “See, M’Tek, this section here is about using viruses as weapons,” I pointed out. “I think that’s what you have.” M’Tek nodded, swallowing back an involuntary gag as she focused where my finger indicated.

  “Why do you think I have one of those?” she asked, struggling to maintain her composure in spite of the stench.

  “I think this sickness is in your blood, and only certain members of your race were susceptible to it. Bacteria would be less selective,” I added.

  “How do you know about these things?” she asked.