The Dawning of Power

by Brian Rathbone

  Heat soaked into her bones as she slid into the scented water, and she allowed herself to remain in the tub until the water had gone nearly cold. She dried her wrinkled skin with the plush towels and donned a robe that bore her family sigil.

  Sitting by the fire, she sampled the array of delicacies. Deep red wine cleansed her palate as she ate both sweet and salty, and soon her hunger was sated. Benjin joined her, looking completely out of place in his robe, which made her giggle, but he ignored her jibes as he attacked the food with vigor. With surprising speed, they finished every morsel, and they settled into the cushions with their bellies full. The fire lulled Catrin into a deep trance, and she soon forgot about the bed as the chair cradled her like a pair of loving arms.

  When Millie returned, Catrin stirred from her stupor, and she was unsure if she had been sleeping or simply in a daze.

  "The lady wishes to speak with you now. Will you follow me?" Millie asked.

  "I should dress first," Catrin said.

  "You're fine as you are. The lady's private apartments are but a short walk from here."

  She followed Millie into the hall with Benjin in her shadow. True to her word, Millie led them only a short distance before they arrived at another grand entranceway, flanked by a pair of guards who nodded to Millie and immediately allowed them to enter. The apartments within were not much more grand than those provided to Catrin and Benjin, which only served to confirm the honor that had been granted to them.

  "Come, my dear. Please sit beside me, and we'll let the fire warm our bones," the Lady Mangst said. "As I grow older, the cold does pain me so." Catrin moved to the seat beside hers. "Come, Benjin, do not be shy. I promise not to bite--this time."

  Benjin sat on the edge of a nearby chair, and Catrin was struck by the changes in her grandmother. She was no longer hostile, and Catrin sensed deep-seated pain, both physical and emotional.

  "By the gods," the Lady Mangst said, "I don't know why you wear your hair so short, but you look exactly as your mother did at your age, more one of the boys than one of the girls. You have her look about you, but mostly, it's in your eyes." After wiping away a tear, she turned to Benjin. "Please, tell me how my daughter died."

  "I'm very sorry. Elsa was murdered."

  "In what manner?"

  "As far as we've been able to figure, it was a large dose of mother's root concealed in sweet buns from the local bakery, which was run by Baker Hollis. I know of no reason he'd commit such an atrocity, but I mean to find out."

  "The Kyte family put him up to it, of that I can assure you. Catrin's aunt was killed in the same horrible manner. They are a despicable lot," the Lady Mangst said.

  "How did you know about my aunt's death?" Catrin asked, confused.

  "How would I not? I was by her side during the entire ordeal."

  "Wait. I don't understand," Catrin said. "My aunt died on the same day as my mother, on the Godfist. How could you have been there?"

  "I'm very sorry, dear, but it seems you've lost two aunts to the Kytes. I assume you speak of your father's sister?"

  "His brother's wife. I had another aunt?"

  "Your mother's sister, Maritza. She was killed some fifteen years ago. It seems they've taken both my daughters from me, but not before each bore me a granddaughter. You and your cousin, Lissa, are my only living descendents."

  "I'm very sorry, Lady," Catrin said, sincere. The pain of her mother's death had faded with time, but it was fresh for her grandmother, like an open wound, and now knowing she had lost another aunt made her heart ache.

  "Please, call me Grandma, if you would. That's what Lissa has always called me, and it would please me greatly if you would do the same."

  "Thank you, Grandma."

  "It must've been difficult for you, growing up without your mother."

  "My father and Benjin always cared for me, and I wanted for nothing. Though, I miss her dearly."

  Her grandmother raised an eyebrow and seemed to reappraise Benjin. "It would seem I owe you a debt of gratitude, Benjin Hawk. You and Wendel have raised my granddaughter as a fine and strong young woman."

  "Wendel deserves more credit than I, but I did what I could, and I'd do it all again if given the chance," he said, and the lady nodded, tears in her eyes.

  "The darkness of these days has soured my disposition, and I was angry with Elsa--so many years she had been gone without a word. Now, of course, I understand the reason, though it makes it no easier to bear. I thank you for coming and for not leaving. You would've been entitled given our treatment of you."

  "Let's put that all behind us. I forgive you for any hostility you expressed, and I forgive myself for reacting poorly. I hope you'll do the same," Catrin said as she took her grandmother's hand in hers.

  "Yes, dear, of course," she responded, patting Catrin's hands lightly. "Now tell me. How do you plan to destroy the Statues of Terhilian?"

  "Statues?" Catrin said, swaying in her chair.

  "Oh dear, you didn't know. I'm sorry to give such dire news, but a second statue has been discovered in the Westland."

  Catrin sat back heavily in her chair as desperation clutched her, and she found it difficult to breathe. What had started as a nearly impossible quest had just become completely hopeless. There was no way she could destroy two statues; she wasn't sure if she could even disarm one of them. She cradled her head in her hands as a cloud of impending doom threatened to crush her under its weight. "I don't know, Grandma. I honestly don't. When I heard of the first statue, I simply had to try, but now . . . now I see no hope at all."

  "Nonsense, child. There is always hope."

  Chapter 22

  Darkness, no matter how powerful it may seem, can be driven back by the tiniest spark.

  --unknown soldier

  * * *

  "There is perhaps a way you could travel safely to Adderhold, but I doubt very much you will like it. Before I tell you what it is, there are some things you must know."

  Catrin wasn't certain she wanted to hear what her grandmother had to say, for fear of more bad news.

  "When the Zjhon forces attacked us, I knew we could not resist. If we had, we would've lost far too many of our good subjects. Instead, I negotiated terms that would allow the subjects of Mundleboro to remain mostly unmolested, though under Zjhon rule. In truth, the Zjhon did not wish to depose us; they simply insisted we adopt their religion and support the efforts to spread the teachings of their Church. It wasn't something we wished for, but it was far less disruptive than a full-scale invasion would've been; thus, we surrendered.

  "The conditions of our surrender were unpleasant, and we still lost a large number of able-bodied men to conscription, but for the most part, life went on as it had before. This kept the majority of our subjects happy, and they paid the increased taxes with little protest. Things have changed since then, though. Now the Zjhon are demanding higher taxes and something far more sinister. They've demanded a marriage between the Mangst and Kyte families. While they claim the move is intended to strengthen both lands and reduce border conflicts, it'll surely weaken Mundleboro and Lankland alike."

  Darkness clouded the periphery of Catrin's vision, and flecks of light danced before her eyes as the words sank in. A less desirable union she could not imagine.

  "Your cousin Lissa is to wed the youngest grandson of Arbuckle Kyte, but she has defied me. I've no idea where she is hiding. This is another reason I was so wroth when you arrived. I make no excuses, mind you; I simply need you to understand the dire circumstances that we find ourselves in.

  "If Lissa is not within Adderhold by the appointed time, our family will forfeit our hold on these lands. The Zjhon will descend upon us, and there is little we can do to stop them. The only solution I can find is to send you in her stead."

  The words were like a blow to Catrin's stomach, and the air left her lungs with a whoosh. She attempted to respond several times, but her tongue refused to form the words. Benjin appeared as dumbstruck as Catrin, his
jaw hanging slack.

  "You wish me to marry into the family that murdered my mother and both my aunts?" she asked finally.

  "I've not asked it of you. I said it was the only solution that I've been able to find. I know you have no reason to love the people of Mundleboro, but it seems their fate lies with you, as your blood right would have dictated anyway. You have the opportunity to make this sacrifice for them, and they would love you for it. But, again, I don't ask it of you. This is something you'll have to take on willingly, for I'll not force your hand."

  "If Catrin traveled under the guise of Lissa, we would be granted access to Adderhold, which is our main goal, and that would put us far closer to the statue than we would have been able to achieve on our own. Perhaps this is a boon, li'l miss," Benjin said, appearing thoughtful.

  "Have you lost your senses?" Catrin asked, appalled that he would even consider it. She had no wish to be married, let alone to one of her family's mortal enemies. However, while she knew nothing of the people of Mundleboro, she did feel responsible for their safety, if for no other reason than because she felt her mother would have wanted to spare the innocent. She'd been a kind and loving woman, and Catrin could not imagine her leaving thousands to die when it was within her power to save them, but the thought of sacrificing herself made her physically ill.

  "Don't feel pressured to make your decision now, dear, but the appointed day is rushing toward us, and by the new moon, we must either comply or prepare for war. I've considered offering myself up, but I have already been married, and they would surely decline. Unless Lissa finds it in her heart to return, I'm afraid we have no other options. Millie, please bring Catrin a calming elixir, she looks as if she's going to faint."

  Indeed, Catrin found it difficult to remain upright as she was faced with responsibilities she'd never imagined. She was but a simple farm girl; certainly she had not the makings of a ruler, even a powerless one.

  Benjin came to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. She supposed he was trying to reassure her, but it felt like compulsion, as if he were trying to persuade her to make the sacrifice. She wanted to rebel against him and her grandmother, to lash out and make them regret asking this of her, but a vision of her mother came to her. Strong and proud, she said nothing, but her eyes commanded Catrin to be noble, to take the lives of her subjects in her hands and cradle them, just as she had cradled Catrin those many years ago. And mostly, she seemed to ask Catrin to do that which her mother had failed to do: accept the responsibility of her birthright and protect those who needed her.

  It seemed strange to Catrin that being born of noble blood would carry so much weight and onus. She'd always thought the nobility leeched off those who worked the land, but now she saw an equally daunting encumbrance. Perhaps the true role of those with power was to serve those who toiled for the sake of their brethren. No longer did the scales seem tipped in the favor of nobility; now they seemed to almost balance one another. The common people needed the nobility as much as the nobles needed them. Like the cycle of life itself, if one component failed, all would perish.

  Ignorance had been so much easier to bear.

  "It's my duty to protect those who cannot defend themselves, and if that means I must sacrifice myself for the greater good, then so be it," she said before the courage to utter the words left her. She hadn't known what kind of reaction to expect, and in truth, she hadn't even taken the time to consider how her words would be received, but the sobs that wracked her grandmother's feeble form nearly made her weep.

  "You are truly my granddaughter," her grandmother said when her emotions subsided. "I couldn't be more proud of you, and I know your mother would approve."

  "You have her strength and the beauty of her heart," Benjin added. "She would, indeed, be proud . . . just as I am."

  Their words would have warmed her soul if not for the icy fear that threatened to consume her. She trembled as she imagined herself surrounded by those who'd attempted to kill her when she was only a babe. They must be monsters, these Kytes, and she envisioned herself within their houses, like a lamb surrounded by hungry wolves. The visions terrified her, and she nearly fled. It would be so much easier to disappear into the masses, to become anonymous and unimportant, as she had been when she was just the daughter of a horseman. Perhaps, she thought, that was what Lissa had done.

  Deep in her heart, she knew running away would bring her no happiness. Images of those she failed would haunt her, not the least of which would be her father, the man who had taught her right from wrong, who had instilled his values in her, and who had trusted her to do what needed to be done. She could not let them down; her conscience would simply not allow it.

  "I don't know if I'll be able to neutralize the statue, but I still plan to try. The marriage is within my power, and despite my misgivings, I will do it. I set out to save as many people as I could, and though this is not how I intended to do it, it serves the same purpose. Perhaps, with the luck of the gods, I'll find a way to achieve both," she said.

  "You are a courageous young lady," Millie said as she approached with a lightly steaming mug that she held in trembling hands. "Your bravery makes me proud to serve your family. Here, sip this. It will help to calm you."

  "Thank you, Millie, but no. I need my wits about me," Catrin said. Millie nodded and downed the contents of the mug in only a few gulps before she walked away, looking dazed.

  "I'll not yet hold you to your word, Catrin, for I feel you should take the rest of the day to consider carefully. You may return to me on the morrow," her grandmother said, and it was obvious that her words were a dismissal. Millie led Catrin and Benjin back to their apartments, and not a word was spoken. It seemed no one would try to influence Catrin one way or another on this matter. Secretly, she prayed Lissa would arrive and relieve her of the burden.

  * * *

  In the days that followed, Catrin firmed her resolve, and Lissa remained absent. Though she'd never met her cousin, Catrin began to loath her. What kind of person could abandon her responsibilities? The fact that Lissa was said to resemble Catrin in almost every physical way did not sit well with her, and she resented someone else bearing her likeness but not her morals.

  Millie had taken to dressing Catrin every morning, and each day brought a new affront. Frilly dresses and lace-trimmed petticoats were anathema to her. She was uncomfortable no matter how hard she tried to get used to the attire she was expected to wear. She knew she could not arrive for the wedding dressed in her leathers and homespun, but in the evenings, she often donned them for the solace they brought her.

  It was on one of these occasions that she suddenly grew panicked as she realized the gilded box that held her noonstones was missing. She could not bear to think of Millie as a thief, and she supposed they might have fallen out when her garments had been taken for cleaning. Benjin was nowhere about, and her anxiety increased when she realized her staff was also gone. After a frantic and futile search of the apartments, she sat down and cried. The stress overwhelmed her, and she hugged herself in an effort to stave off a massive wave of depression. Her entire life was in disarray, and she could no longer take it. The fact that she needed to leave for Adderhold in the morning helped not at all. When Benjin and Millie entered, all smiles, she did what she could to hide her distress, but it was of no use; her anxiety was plain to see. "I've lost my staff and my stones," she managed to say.

  "I know you're upset, li'l miss, but everything is going to be fine. I promise you," Benjin said. "Right now, I want you to take a deep breath and dry your eyes; we need to visit with your grandmother."

  "I need to change back into something more suitable," Catrin said, and her face flushed with embarrassment.

  "You look just fine to me," Millie said and, taking Catrin by the arm, led her from the room.

  Millie propelled her through a number of halls that Catrin had never walked before, and she began to get a cold feeling in her stomach. She couldn't have been more surprised, or mor
e mortified, to be led into a cavernous hall, filled to capacity with well-dressed strangers. At the far end of the hall, behind a table laden with fine foods and colorful pitchers, sat her grandmother; beside her waited a single, vacant chair. Unerringly, Millie's course led to that chair.

  Every eye upon her, Catrin felt vulnerable, and she wished for Benjin to sit beside her. Instead, he stood directly behind her in the ceremonial role of her Guardian. His presence was one of the few things that kept her from crawling under the table to hide; her grandmother's warm and welcoming smile was another.

  "Why did you let me come dressed like this?" she asked Millie with an accusing look.

  "It'll be good to let them see you as you are. These are good people. They'll not judge you poorly. Most are simple folk, and your attire may very well endear you to them even more. Don't be embarrassed. You're beautiful no matter how you dress, and these people owe you a great debt. They've come this day to honor you."

  "Citizens," the Lady Mangst said in a bold voice that carried across the hall, and a hush fell over the assemblage. "I present to you my granddaughter, Catrin Volker-Mangst, daughter of the late Elsa Mangst."

  The crowd raised a cheer, and Catrin was honored by the use of the Mangst name, though it sounded foreign to her ear. At the same time, she was honored that her grandmother had chosen to use the Volker name as well--a show of respect for her father. She blushed furiously as the crowd erupted in a cheer, and some even called out her name.

  "The Lady Catrin has offered herself for service to her land and her people, and she will depart on the morrow for Adderhold." This statement was met with less enthusiasm, and Catrin assumed the people knew she was to wed a Kyte. "But this day bears another significance; one that I think Catrin has forgotten under the weight of her responsibilities. On this day, the Lady Catrin reaches her majority, and I ask you to celebrate with us."

  A deafening roar erupted in the hall, and Catrin's knees nearly buckled. She'd forgotten, and the sudden remembrance nearly overcame her. She had dreamed of this day for years, but all of her visions had included her father. He was supposed to be there to accompany her as she left childhood behind and entered the world of adulthood. His absence brought her physical pain, and only the reassurance of Benjin's hands on her shoulders prevented her from breaking down completely.