Tinderbox Under Winter Stars

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  Adaire adjusted a stack of papers. “Well, they would be the ones dying in the war.”

  “Whose side are you on, my cherished?” Marianna snarled.

  “Yours, my Queen. So, what are you going to do? Answer his question?”

  “I believe it may be too late for that. He wants more than my word, hence the texts I have had you deliver. He wants historic documents from my ancestors, either denying or confirming if magic is real and if we have used it. He no longer trusts me.”

  Adaire looked up, but if she was about to say “I wonder why” or something of that ilk, she stopped herself.

  Good. I should be loath to punish her. Well, no, not if it was the fun sort of punishment.

  “Then I suggest manufacturing such a book, my Queen.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Create a book which says what you want it to, order your papermakers to make the book look old and tatty, and ensure it is dated a hundred years ago. Give him that and send him back to the cold.”

  “That could be an idea. Clever woman. Let me think about that for a while.”

  “Of course, my Queen.”

  Marianna observed her again. “You really want them gone.”

  “Yes, my Queen.”

  “Why the rush?”

  “Joiners Square cannot be trusted. And as you said, it is only a matter of time until they self-destruct. Arclid should not be caught up in that.”

  “That is not all, Adaire. I can see it in those dark blue eyes of yours.”

  Adaire sniffed. “I told you, the Nobles became uncomfortable amongst all the severe uniforms and the feel of conflict in the air. I am trying to protect your position. If you have the people against you, that can be handled. If the Nobles turn against you…”

  “They might search out another Queen?”

  “Or worse. They might be inspired by Storsund and eliminate monarchy all together.”

  “Ah. That would not happen. I have made them fear the progress, including the political mayhem of Storsund and the complicated democracy of the Western Isles. Age-old monarchy, like in Obeha and Arclid, looks safe and stable.”

  “As you say,” Adaire said, her placid demeanour showing the tiniest hint of disbelief. “Just get rid of the Northmen, Your Majesty.”

  Marianna bristled at the near-order. “In time. For now, they entertain me, keep the castle safe, and help guard my little… guest up there.”

  “As you say, my Queen,” Adaire repeated.

  Chapter 36

  From Cawstone to Highmere Castle

  Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Nessa squinted in the direction she’d been told Arclid finally was. The dread in her veins made her even colder than the wintry morning did, but the dread was trumped by the relief of soon being able to do something. That relief was taking on her feelings of inadequacy, and she could swear it was winning.

  The ship’s captain appeared at her elbow. “A slow trip, yes? Almost two weeks longer than the usual journey-time. Again, my apologies for the trick the seas played on us. Still, we should now see Cawstone in under three days.”

  She thanked him, and he walked on to speak to more talkative passengers.

  Hunter and Anja joined Nessa. Hunter was smiling at Anja and chirped, “You were right. You said at breakfast that we were close to shore. How clever you are!”

  Anja cackled. “Take your nose out of my bottom, man-child.” She switched her gaze to Nessa. “Are you all right?”

  “No, but I shall be when I can see that bloody castle. Because I’ll either leave it with Elise or die in it. Either way, the waiting will be over. And I’ll be with Elise.”

  Anja patted her shoulder. “Yes, lass. And she’ll be thrilled to see you. I’ll have no talk of dying, though. Come get some coffee when you’re ready.”

  They left Nessa to gaze out at sea, looking for the sliver of land and failing without any binoculars. She prayed to Ioene, the moon goddess that she had thanked for bringing Elise to her. She prayed until her head hurt and then focused towards the direction of Arclid, her hands clenching into fists and her resolve firming.

  Cawstone. The barren ground was still frozen here, but oh-so welcome under Nessa’s feet. She’d never been here, but she knew it was close to Highmere. She frowned at the thought. When the ship’s other passengers had milled away to the local taverns, inns, and lodgings, Nessa gathered her group.

  “Right. We need some carriages to take us to Highmere. I should think the journey will take a few days.” She turned to her fellow Arclidian, and Hunter nodded his agreement.

  Albert groaned. “No trains? No cable cars? Not even for some of the way?”

  Nessa crossed her arms over her chest. “No. The Queen has warned us off those things, remember? We’ve been told that they’re dangerous and prohibitively expensive.”

  “Yes. The newspapers are full of those ‘facts.’ Positively absurd,” Hunter said.

  Björn, the short Viss man, tutted. “Shame. I hear you have the sort of land where coal mines are aplenty.”

  “Odd that you’ve allowed her to keep you in the dark like this, yes? You live almost like animals,” Albert said with a scrunched-up nose.

  Before she could stop herself, Nessa channelled her old master and whispered “spoiled uniform monkey” under her breath. The comment wasn’t only due to Albert having worked for Joiners Square, but also in regard to the uniforms they’d all changed into before leaving the steamer. If the ship’s crew or their fellow passengers had noticed, they hadn’t said anything.

  The Viss woman who seemed so in charge, Ravna, shrugged off her standard-issue fur cloak. “At least it’s warm here.”

  “It is freezing, heartling. You Storsundians are so used to the air being half ice that you think anything that does not give you frostbite is balmy!” Hunter said with a sneer.

  “You didn’t complain about the cold when it allowed you all those pretty furs,” Anja said, grinning.

  He ignored her and adjusted his ponytail while looking around. “Nessa, there is an inn with a carriage hall over there. I can go procure some carriages at a good price. You know my excellent haggling skills.”

  “That would be splendid, thank you, Hunter.”

  Nessa examined her brave, motley team of rescuers. Albert was kissing Sonja on the head, it was only then that Nessa remembered that she and her mother were staying here.

  After some hesitance, Nessa went to embrace Eleonora. “Thank you for letting your husband risk his life for Elise,” she whispered.

  Eleonora pulled away so they were eye to eye. “Not only for Elise, sweet Nessa. Albert is doing it because it’s the right thing to do.”

  “And to fetch a good job when the dust settles, yes?” Albert added with a snigger.

  Nessa laughed. “Of course.” She gave Sonja a farewell hug, too. “Well, while you three go find this fancy inn you’ve previously stayed in, we shall follow Hunter and try to get ourselves some ale and something to eat, I think.”

  “I’ll meet you there, yes? Just be careful, people here are not so fond of us Joiners Square soldiers.”

  The way he said us was a clear reminder and warning, they had to act their parts now. The carriage drivers had to think they were with Joiners Square or they might give away the ruse when they arrived in Highmere. Everyone from now on must think them to be disciplined, unfriendly foreign soldiers.

  Nessa nodded to him, then turned and grabbed Anja by the arm. “You and the other Storsundians do the talking since you have the right accents.” A thought struck her. “In fact, I’ve no idea how Hunter is getting along with his fake Highmere Noble dialect in the inn right now.”

  Anja laughed. “The way he gets away with anything. Lies, charm, and that blinding smile. He’s a talented rat, our sweet boy.”

  Nessa shook her head. “As I say, you do have the strangest friendship.”

  Anja looked at her boots as they walked. “You cannot help but love him. He needs affection and belonging more tha
n most.”

  “Agreed,” Nessa said, rubbing Anja’s arm tenderly before letting it go. She wasn’t sure just how much Joiners Square soldiers walked arm in arm.

  They all headed for the inn, still getting used to their new boots, the starchy uniforms, and the knives chafing at their sides. Nessa prayed again, this time that their deception would work. She’d have to learn to pray for one thing at a time, lest she drowned the moon goddess in demands.

  Four days later, at the break of dawn, Nessa awoke to her carriage bumping over something. It jolted her awake and made Albert, who’d been snoring on her shoulder, mumble in his sleep. Then he returned to snoring. Nessa glanced down at him.

  Why does he sleep on me? Probably the same reason he keeps telling me bad jokes and asking me to explain Arclidian things he finds idiotic – he thinks we’re friends.

  She smiled to herself.

  Well, annoying as he is, I could do worse when it comes to friends.

  She thought ahead to their destination, imagining the Queen with the Joiners Square emissary and all those cruel Noble courtiers who treated Elise so badly.

  Yes, I could do much worse.

  She moved her shoulder to be a better height for Albert to sleep on.

  Now wide awake, Nessa gazed out the window. The fields were covered in low mist, which she knew was heat escaping the fertile ground. Her father always said it was fairies dancing, though. Her heart stung. It was odd to be on the same continent as her parents again, and yet so far from them. She hoped they were safe and happy, and not worrying too much about her.

  She thought again about the marriage lie she and Elise had told when they created their new personas. The lying had grated on her conscience, but the idea of being married to Elise had felt true. It had seemed right and natural. As natural as her parents’ marriage had always seemed.

  Something in the distance caught her eye. A collection of bright buildings. They were high and even from this distance looked fancy.

  Highmere.

  It had to be. The fields they were passing must be the royal grounds that Elise had talked about. The fields stopped reminding Nessa of home and began to look menacing.

  She took a deep breath. She was so close to her heartling now. In her yearning, she almost felt she could smell her skin, her hair. If she got Elise back, she would never let her out of her sight again. She closed her eyes tight, willing the white and pink city closer. She daydreamed about storming in, picking Elise up, and running far away with her in her arms.

  The next time she opened her eyes, the dawn light was a tad brighter and the carriages appeared to have stopped. They got out, all hesitant.

  Are they as frightened as I am?

  Nessa found new things to fret over every second. As they unpacked their bags, she wondered if it was customary to have different luggage or if they should all have standard-issue Joiners Square bags. As Hunter walked next to her, she wondered if they might recognise him despite his beard. When they all strode towards the white iron gates, she wondered if they should be marching. And when Albert was speaking to the guard at the gates, she worried that he would not be able to keep up the ruse.

  Keep fretting like this, and you’ll be a wreck before you even get the chance to be killed.

  They all waited, trying to look normal. Tricky, considering how hard Nessa was tensing her whole body. There was no turning back now. They were at the castle, in their disguises, and about to either be let in or discovered.

  She breathed through her nose, trying not to hyperventilate. Her heart pounded out the seconds. The wind blew right at them. As she felt a warm breeze caress strands of hair away from her face, her heartbeat calmed. In her mind she heard the words Albert had said back in Charlottenberg, “Well, it’s about time I was brave.”

  Now is my time to be brave. I think I might be able to manage it.

  She was finally doing something. Not hiding. Not worrying. Not planning. She was taking action. Somehow being here, even if it got them all killed, made the mission feel possible. The safety she had sought by hiding from danger she was somehow finding here. In herself. In this moment of utter danger.

  Now was the time to be brave, and Nessa Clay was ready to try. Try in the same way she did with her master’s cart in the glassblower’s test, one step at a time. She squared her shoulders, looked around at the others and gave her team a reassuring smile.

  All of a sudden, the guard opened the high gates and asked them to follow him. Nessa took the lead after Albert and marched through the courtyard with her squadron in tow. She wasn’t praying. Or fretting. A strange sort of calm warmed her from the inside. What would happen would happen. All she could do was try her best.

  The guard escorted them to High Captain Nordhall, who welcomed Albert in Sundish, seeming happy enough to see him. It was hard to tell with Nordhall’s face appearing so stern and cold that it could’ve been cut from the same marble as the castle around them. After a while, Nordhall slapped Albert on the back and walked away to converse with some of his soldiers.

  Albert stepped back to Nessa and the team behind her. “He’s happiness to have more troops, yes? He didn’t seem as happy to hear that I’d be taking notes during the talks with the Queen. He said there were… hmm… things best kept out of written logs.”

  “Ha! I wager there is,” Ravna said.

  Albert frowned. “Anyway, he asked us to go wash all road dust off and catch up with the soldiers who were off-duty. Apparently, they’re in the left, I mean east wing.”

  Nessa clapped him on the shoulder. “Good job. We now know where to start. I suggest that when we get there we pretend to be settling in. Then those who speak Sundish can make small talk with the soldiers and try to figure out where Elise is being held.”

  The rebels all nodded and mumbled agreements.

  “Good planning,” Albert said, adjusting his tight collar nervously. “Nordhall pointed in that direction so I am thinking that is where the east wing is.”

  “Yes, I rather think the east wing will be to the east,” Anja muttered.

  “Be nice to Albert,” Nessa said, trying not to smile.

  As they walked towards the east wing, Albert filled them in on how Nordhall was Joiners Square’s golden child but that no one knew what he actually did.

  Albert was wide-eyed when he said, “Nordhall’s known to be… what’s the word… robeless.”

  They all paused, some probably thinking about what word Albert wanted and the others dealing with mental images of High Captain Nordhall without a robe.

  “Ruthless?” Björn suggested.

  “Yes, ruthless and filled to the ears with secrets,” Albert added.

  They all let the ear comment pass and kept walking. Whenever they passed servants or any Royal Guards, they were glared at.

  “Are they staring at us because they recognise us?” Nessa whispered to Hunter.

  He ran his hand over his thick beard as he watched a guard stare openly. When they were out of earshot, Hunter shook his head, making his ponytail dance. “No, I think not. I believe it is merely distaste. From what I have heard, everyone resents that Joiners Square are here. People are suspicious of these powerful, rude, and meddling foreigners. Yet another way the Queen has angered her people. Good for us, bad for her.”

  When they arrived in the part of the east wing which had been altered into posh barracks for the soldiers, they found a few of the Northmen lingering there. Some sitting on the beds, smoking pipes and chatting. A couple of them were cleaning their weaponry. One male soldier was trying to get the attention of one of the Queen’s passing footmen, who seemed uninterested in stopping to flirt.

  The soldier turned to the newcomers and said something. The redheaded rebel replied and made him laugh. Anja held her hand over her mouth in a faked cough and whispered, “He’s complaining that he hasn’t slept with any of the staff lately. Saying that in the first months they were here, all the Arclidians wanted to bed the newcomers. Now they’re just
hostile.”

  There was more Sundish spoken, and Anja again found ways to subtly translate. “She asked him if he’d bedded the mysterious Storsund prisoner that she’s heard so much about.”

  “Was that when he laughed?” Nessa snarled.

  “Yes. Then he said that that no one bedded her. Only the Queen, servants, and someone called Under Lieutenant Anders Dahl are allowed in her room.” Anja paused to listen to the rest. “Oh, and apparently a chemist, too. He gives her some sort of shrooms to keep her docile and to connect this place with happiness? That’s apparently the rumour; that the Queen is making the prisoner like it here. To make her want to stay.”

  “Oxen-shit,” Nessa growled. “Did he say where her room is?”

  “No,” Anja whispered. “Let me get involved and see if I can figure it out. You two act like you’re relaxing after a long voyage. And don’t speak!”

  With that, Anja stepped forward and joined the conversation. Her tone was light, betraying none of her usual grumpiness. Nessa was impressed. It almost distracted her from the itching sensation under her skin. Was it the starched uniform? Or her nerves?

  Maybe it’s being so close to Elise and yet so bloody far away.

  A few minutes later, the conversation ended. The soldier turned to accept a pipe from a comrade while the redheaded rebel and Anja returned to Nessa and Hunter.

  Anja leaned in to whisper, “She’s held in a room three floors up, overlooking the northern turret. He also said that her room is the only one always protected by two guards, that should help us find it.”

  “Apparently, it’s usually guarded by a Royal Guard and this Under Lieutenant Dahl that the soldier spoke of, yes? Unless Dahl is off-duty in which case it’s two Royal Guards,” the redhead added.

  Nessa nodded, wishing she’d learnt this woman’s name.

  Anja was biting her lower lip. “The involvement of this Dahl confuses me. It seems he’s one of the soldiers who kidnapped Elise. So, she struck up a rapport with him and wanted him to be one of her jailers? Peculiar.”