QueensQuest

by Suz deMello

  Within the walls, a sturdy keep. Surrounded by greenery with water features, as were all my homes, Windrush is distinguished by a primitive aspect, as it was constructed of rough-hewn logs, notched at the corners, with evergreen trees all around. Swift-flowing streams widen into lily-strewn ponds, fringed by ferns and foxgloves. Lining many paths are hedges of blackberry thick with fruit protected by thorny canes.

  My heart thumped, and I realized that I had missed Windrush, where my family had spent many happy hours when I was small. My later memories were not so sweet, for nearby lay the lake where my parents and sister had perished.

  While our servants and retinues sorted themselves out, unpacked and organized for a fortnights stay, I wandered through the gardens with Frayn, Kaldir and Storne. Frayn and I relived our childhoods while we showed our guests the beauty of the place. We still wore riding gear, and our boots raised small clouds of duff from the fallen evergreen needles cushioning the paths between the trees. We meandered beside a stream to the mews, where falconers tended my kestrels and hawks, then sauntered to the stables and watched scores of horses being bathed, curried, fed and stabled.

  “I probably smell far worse than my horse,” I told my guests as we returned to Windrush Manor. “I will bathe and see you at dinner.”

  Though I had presented a cheerful mien to my lovers, I was nevertheless in a pensive mood. I was not sure if I wanted to see the lake where my family had drowned, but the event lingered in my mind as I went to the royal suite—now my suite. ’Twas several rustic, wood-paneled chambers with large windows showing the forests outside. In the bathing room, lined with polished pine benches and dominated by a large wooden tub, steam rose in curls from the surface of the water, scented with eucalyptus and pine. A stained glass panel showed a woodland scene.

  “You are quiet this eve,” Maia remarked as she poured a ewer of clean, warm water over my soapy hair and shoulders, rinsing me. She dug her strong fingers into my tight muscles and I hummed with pleasure. She continued, “Today I have found myself thinking often of Queen Armina, King Mangor and Princess Beryla of blessed memory. Their spirits are strong in this place.”

  I shivered. “Perhaps their ghosts are angry, as their deaths remain unexplained and unavenged.”

  Her hands stilled. “I did not realize that you were unsatisfied by the…official explanation.”

  Storne entered the room. “What official explanation?”

  I eyed him with irritation. “Why did Rall and Parron let you in?”

  “I told them you sent for me.”

  “You lied.”

  “Yes, I did, but I wanted to see you. You seemed unhappy behind your show of hospitality and I wondered why.”

  I cocked my head. The other suitors had not noticed my mood. Of the many folk around me, only Maia and Storne had been insightful enough to divine that I was troubled. “You are right,” I said.

  “May I bathe with you and talk?” Storne shifted his weight from boot to boot, clearly uncomfortable with his role as a supplicant. “Just talk, I assure you.”

  We had not seen much of each other for the last two days and I had missed him. I hoped he had also missed me. “All right.”

  He sat on a bench and Maia helped him tug off his boots. He removed the rest of his raiment alone while she went to fetch more towels.

  “The official version of what?” he asked, unbuttoning his doublet and casting it and his codpiece to one side.

  Trying not to stare at his penis, I shifted in the water. “Being here has brought up the past. We were speaking of the passing of my family.”

  He fixed me with a direct gray gaze before his glance dropped to the ruby on my breast. “You suspect treachery.” He slid into the bath and sat opposite me.

  I bit my lip. “It is not quite a suspicion, but…I do not understand why the royal barge should have sprung a leak so suddenly, just when a storm blew up over Lake Catura.”

  “Catura is infamous for its storms,” Storne observed equably. He dunked his head under the water, and when he emerged, rubbed soap into his long dark hair.

  Maia re-entered the room. “Lord Kloutt said that the barge was blown into a boulder that lurked unseen beneath the surface of the lake,” she told Storne.

  “So Lord Kloutt was on the excursion,” Storne said. “But you were not. Who else was there? Frayn?”

  I noticed that Storne’s voice went flat and neutral when he said Frayn’s name. “No,” I said. “Frayn and I had been exploring the woods together. We had eaten some underripe berries and were sick. Neither of us went on the boating trip.”

  “Nor did I,” Maia said. She poured half a pitcher of clean water over Storne’s hair and the rest over mine. “I stayed back to care for Audryn.”

  “As always.” Storne flashed one of his rare smiles at her. “But it is curious to me… Would not Kloutt’s duty be to save the life of his liege, even if it meant sacrificing his own?”

  I blinked water out of my eyes. “Kloutt was my mother’s brother and older by some years. He may not have been capable of helping. He has arthritis.”

  “Which soldiers and servants were along?” he asked.

  I scratched my head. “Truthfully, I am not sure. I was not as, um…aware then as I am now about who did what.”

  “You must have been distraught.” Storne sounded calm. “Overwhelmed, even. You lost your family and suddenly had the burden of ruling the Shadowlands thrust upon you.”

  Tears filled my eyes and I slumped against the tub’s rim. I rubbed my face with damp hands, unable to reply.

  Behind me Maia caressed my head, and I welcomed her comforting touch. “Rall and Parron may remember who was on the royal barge that day,” she said.

  “Were they?” Storne asked.

  “No,” I said with certainty. “They have been my personal guards since my thirteenth starturn.” Since my Exhibition Day, in fact, but there was no need for Storne to know that.

  “But perhaps they remember who went on the excursion,” Maia said.

  “Perhaps.” I yawned. “I had best get out of the warm water before I fall asleep.”

  “I am also tired,” Storne said. “I look forward to sleeping in a proper bed.”

  I stood and Maia wrapped a warmed towel around me. “And I also. Maia, please make excuses to the others. I do not wish to feast tonight, but will take only a bowl of soup in my suite.”

  She rubbed my hair with another towel. “The servants will be glad of that. Perhaps a feast tomorrow night, which will give the staff time to prepare.”

  “That’s fine.” I yawned again. “Lord Storne, forgive me.”

  “Of course. Shall we have wine? If we are not having a formal dinner, there is no need to wait for later.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea. Look in the sideboard in the outer anteroom. Oh, and there should be robes in the closet here.”

  He toweled off while Maia finished drying me and brought my robe. “I’ll go make the proper orders,” she said before leaving the room.

  “Is this the closet you mean?” Storne opened a wooden sliding panel.

  “Yes.” I ran an enameled golden comb through my hair.

  “Oh, here they are. Were they your father’s?” He picked a thick green wrap, shrugged into it and tied its belt around his waist.

  “Most likely. This was their suite. Beryla and I shared the suite down the hall. The one you’re in.”

  The casual intimacy of the scene did not escape me. Storne and I had become very comfortable with each other, even to the extent of discussing deeply private matters like my feelings after my family’s death. He had struck the mark perfectly when he guessed that I had not only been upset and saddened, but overwhelmed by the vast tasks that had awaited me.

  A fire crackled in the outer room opposite a couch strewn with soft red cushions. We sat close together there sipping wine and watching the flames. One of the big windows nearby showed a stand of oak with pink-and-white cyclamen at the trees’ feet. Unlike t
he castle, which seemed to bustle with servants, Windrush was quiet.

  A doe picked her way from the copse toward the window, nibbling on a few green sprigs that had pushed through the fallen leaves. I sighed and cuddled into Storne’s body. Letting my eyes drift shut, I allowed sleep to claim me.

  * * * * *

  When I awakened, I was alone in my bed. A dent in the next pillow adorned with a long strand of dark hair told me that Storne and I had slept together but he had kept his word. Talk only. And an unintended but welcome intimacy.

  I could trust Storne with my body, but could I trust him with my realm? My people?

  Through a nearby window, I glimpsed two moons gleaming dully, low in the pewter sky. I appreciated being allowed to rest but knew I had duties. I tugged on a bellpull. When Maia entered, bearing a tea tray, I asked, “What is Storne doing this morning?”

  She set the tray on a table and handed me my robe. “The Prince of Darkness rose early, took his boots from the bathing chamber and dressed in your father’s robe. When he left, he spoke with Rall and Parron for a few minutes. “

  “Hmm. What did they tell him?”

  “Rall was initially cautious but won over, I think, by his observation of the hastening intimacy between you and Lord Storne.” Her dark eyes sparkled with amusement. “Parron talked freely.”

  I remained silent.

  She chuckled but continued. “They promised to check the records and tell him later which servants and guards accompanied the royal party to Catura that, um…day. I am sure they will ask you first.”

  “Tell Rall and Parron that they may assist Storne in his investigations, but warn the lot of them to tell no one and to be stealthy.” I breathed deeply. “Then what did he do?”

  “The prince crept quietly to his suite, taking care not to disturb you.” She still seemed faintly amused. “There he dressed, explored this manor, then left. I am told that he went to the stable, borrowed a horse and rode away from Windrush. I believe he went to the lake.”

  My brow wrinkled. “Storne is taking an unusually active interest in the boating accident.”

  “I, ah…” Maia hesitated, then said, “I did not mention it at the time, but I also wondered if the event was not actually an accident.”

  I stared at her.

  She handed me a cup of tea. “At the time, you were not in a condition to hear my speculations.”

  I swallowed tea against my parched throat. The cup clattered when I set it back in the saucer. “If there wasn’t an investigation, there should be. By my command.”

  “Storne is taking the matter in hand.”

  “I am sure he is competent. Is he objective?”

  “He is not a part of Shadowland politics.”

  “Of course he is. He desires to occupy the Golden Throne by my side.” I thought of Parron’s new relationship with Storne. “Prince Storne must know that Frayn is one of his rivals for my hand. He is not entirely unbiased.”

  “But he wasn’t involved starturns ago. If the deaths were murders—”

  I drew in a horrified breath.

  “He had nothing to do with them.”

  “Regicide. Who would dare? Who would be so heartless?” My mind again flew to Kloutt and Frayn. Frayn, who had long coveted the Golden Throne. But would Kloutt have sacrificed his own sister?

  “I share your suspicions.”

  I eyed her. “Explore them. Who arranged the excursion?”

  “Mercourie’s predecessor, Lord Ambler. He was also responsible for the maintenance of the royal barge.”

  “He blamed himself, as I recall. He committed suicide three weeks after…after…” I clutched my belly. “Who was in charge of security? Parlous? He has held responsibility for my family’s personal security for nearly twenty starturns.”

  Her brow pleated. “I do not recall his presence in Windrush on that occasion, but the records will be checked.”

  “In the meantime…” I swung my legs out of bed. “Duties await.”

  I did not know how I would face Frayn and Parlous at that morning’s council, but I did. We had received messages from Geoman, Caducia and Kloutt stating that all was well, but the northerners were unhappy about paying additional taxes levied for the Progress when they were not on its route. I ordered Frayn to personally inform my subjects in the north that we’d visit after our return from Lightside. That would get rid of him during the investigation. I did not want even a breath of my suspicion to waft toward him.

  My heart lightened after Frayn left, especially knowing that Storne was looking into my family’s deaths. After I held court, I went hawking with Kaldir, Parlous and Mercourie, and observed Parlous with a suspicious mind. But he did nothing to arouse my concern. Besides, what would be his motive? Though a widower, he had never sought my hand, and his children were all mated and living in his lands, which bordered the EastMarch to the north.

  That evening, we feasted in the Dining Hall, a large room paneled in wood and, unlike the halls in Castle Remarck, featuring paintings of my ancestors rather than tapestries of hunting scenes and the like. Instead of long tables as in the castle, this room was scattered with small round tables that encouraged conversation. I ate with Storne, Kaldir, Mercourie and Parlous, my heart clenching a little as I remembered that the last time I had eaten at this table, my parents and sister had broken bread with me. We’d had a jester who’d dressed in our colors, red and black, and whose impressions of the Ten Ministers had been incomparable. Beryla had played harpsichord here with me, laughed at the jester with me, hummed the minstrel’s tunes with me.

  Maia served us foods natural to the terrain—eels fished from the lake, fern sallets and venison stew. After the meal, Storne tugged at my hand and said, “Audryn, I wish to ask of you a boon. Of you also, Prince Kaldir.”

  We followed Storne to the opposite wall, where a grouping of three small portraits decorated a slab of wood paneling between two windows. One of them bore a startling resemblance to Kaldir, bearing the same, distinctive blade-sharp cheekbones and strong, almost bony jawline. “Who is this?” Storne asked.

  Maia had followed us. She said, “That is the thrice great-grandfather of the deceased King, Audryn’s father Mangor, often called the Great.”

  Storne darted her a keen glance. “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Quite.”

  He scrutinized me. “I see no resemblance.”

  “My sister was dark of hair, as was my father.” I gazed at Kaldir, hoping my expression remained serene. “This ancestor was one of the Desert Princes. Alliances, including marriage, have occasionally occurred between the Lightsiders and the Shadowlanders. But this is an extreme resemblance. Kaldir, is this personage also related to you?”

  He hesitated and I saw the knot in his throat bobble as he swallowed. “Possibly.”

  He lies, I thought and also noticed Storne’s demeanor stiffening. I caught his eye and shook my head very slightly. I said, “Do please let us know when you find out. As you may be aware, matters of genealogy are of great interest to my people.” I strove to keep my voice light, as if the matter were of only moderate importance.

  I tugged at Storne’s sleeve and we left Kaldir staring thoughtfully at the portrait, with Maia lingering in the shadows nearby. When we had left the room, Storne asked me, “Why did you not allow me to continue confronting him? We might have learned something. Now he is inventing a tale with which to fob us off.” His voice was rough and angry.

  “There is a secret there, and I also am sure he is lying, but I believe we will discover the truth when we travel into the Lightsiders’ dominion. In the meantime, I do not wish to arouse his concern.” Also angry, I virtually hissed at Storne, my lips as close to his ear as our disparate heights allowed.

  He relaxed. I continued, my tone a little calmer, “If we are to deal well together, you must let me know before you manipulate these little occurrences, so we can be of united will and intent.”

  He pressed his lips together. “I beg yo
ur pardon, Queen Audryn. I am so used to working alone that I misstepped. I trust that this will not affect any decision you are to make.”

  I released his sleeve. “Not unless it happens again.” I knew that it had been difficult for Storne to apologize, so I smiled at him and lowered my voice into a whisper. “Come to me later tonight. We must discuss your activities today and, um…other matters.”

  He gave me one of his slow, rare, blinding smiles that gladdened his entire face unto his gray eyes. He touched my hand and murmured, “Later.”

  Chapter Ten

  Later came sooner, for third moon set behind the mountains earlier than in the flatlands surrounding Castle Remarck. When I entered my suite, I was startled to see, in the torchlight illuminating the forest outside my window, Storne doing a most peculiar thing.

  He was hugging the oak tree.

  Hugging it, clasping it with obvious passion. His face, in profile, was…transported, as though he were experiencing a spiritual epiphany. He was so still that a doe and her fawn approached, eyed him with evident curiosity but nevertheless set about grazing.

  I remembered that his clan symbols were the firemountain and the oak. I had asked about the mountain but what was the significance of the tree?

  The oak, glistening in the torchlight, seemed to reflect Storne’s inner fire. As I watched, that silvery glow brightened. Did one feed off the other?

  Darksider nobility revered nature, but I had not realized that their reverence included such passion and that the trees themselves returned their fervor in such a visible and energetic way.

  What was this strange power? How might it be harnessed?

  * * * * *

  Storne entered and I said, striving to keep my voice even, “Good evening, Lord Storne. How did you find the oak tree?”

  He smiled, still appearing to radiate energy.

  “I did not realize that the oak trees are sacred objects for your people,” I said.

  “Only some of them, the silver oaks. They are an important light source in our lands. They glow after certain rituals are performed.”