Throughout proceedings she had remained as calm and focused as an ancient river. She very nearly lounged upon her throne, with waves of hair that poured down her shoulders in rivulets of heated gold. And the sweep of her torso, from her cleavage down to her naval, was a sinuous line The Hunter could not move his eyes from. The return of her husband had certainly returned something of the strength to her posture, but there was still an uncertainty about it. It was almost as if the last few decades had transformed her confidence to that of a mouse, which had only now crept out
of its burrow to check if the sun was still shining.
The queen continued, “And besides – you should have detected that he was not a six when you touched him, which I think is rather necessary in order to bed a man, is it not?” A light titter was heard about the room.
The accused wielder mouthed silently for a few seconds. “But, it had gone beyond that – I loved him!”
“Loved him? Really?” Artemi looked down at the documents in her right hand. “Tell me, Lady D’Haran, is it possible to fall so madly in love with a man in as little as two days?”
Chione’s red face looked closer to exploding with outrage than bursting into tears. “And yet, my queen, everyone says you lay with a man of lesser ability. How is it that you are not punished when other wielders are!?”
The queen did not so much as blink at the accusation. Instead she leaned forward with such torpidity that the movement was barely perceptible. “I did not kill my husband,” she said in a very quiet voice, “Nor did I make him into an eisiel. And if you think that bringing him into this will cause me to show any sort of lenience...” she leapt from her seat and rushed towards the
indignant plaintiff. “...Then you are terribly mistaken.” Their noses almost touched, and her last words were barely a whisper. Artemi turned back to her dais and clambered it slowly. The second throne was notably vacant. “My husband-,” she said, reprising her seat, “-invited wielders back into this country in order to protect the people of Calidell. I cannot have Calidellian wielders killing innocents in their own country. I have no choice but to make an example of you.”
“But I helped this country! I was invited here to torture Acher, and I did precisely as I was ordered! Please...”
Her voice wavered. “...I didn’t mean to kill Sorindar. I didn’t. I just... I just wanted – you understand, don’t you? What it’s like to be alone?”
The Hunter folded his arms uncomfortably. Before quenching she had been no more than a grade five, and therefore easily within his range. Really, he ought to offer his services to the wielders of the palace to prevent this sort of thing. Enough of them had asked.
An almost indiscernible sigh arose from Artemi. “Every wielder understands. But there are more important things for us to concern
ourselves with, and we have very serious responsibilities. In spite of your services to this country, your actions have led to the death of a man and I must see that justice is done. Lord Cayvil?”
“Thirty years in the cells, and a promise she won’t do it again.”
The queen’s look of incomprehension was an almost amusing sight to behold. At length, a frown broke out across her brow. “Very well, as Lord Righteous Cayvil advises, you shall adhere to this sentence. Think upon this Chione: you have received some considerable mercy today, and that is only because of the work you have done for this kingdom. If any other women dare to do the same as you, they will not be so lucky. Dismissed.”
Two burly guards led the defiant-looking wielder from the hall, and the small gathering of nobles and wielders soon trailed through the asymmetrical arches after them. Well, all bar one noble: a moderately rotund man with an amusing moustache. The most notable thing about him was his attire, which always seemed to range anywhere between ridiculous and horrendous. Today he sported a wide,
starched doublet in a colour that could only be described as cerise. A cluster of yellow feathers dangled limply along one side seam. “My divine and most handsome goddess of a queen.” He bowed so low that he very nearly touched the ground with his nose.
“Lord Saturnia.” Her expression displayed that she was less than impressed.
“May I say how prudently and wisely you dealt with our wielder today?” His soft, pink features contorted into a smile. “’We have very serious responsibilities.’ Very well said, my lady. Very well said indeed.”
“Thank you. Is there some other business you wish to discuss with me?” “Ah... if my lustrous, most radiant lady would permit, I should like to converse with you on the matter of
kefruit.”
“Kefruit?”
His face claimed an air of seriousness. “Aye, my lady. I couldn’t help noticing that they’re no longer included in the Benefactors’ Dinner as a side dish. Is there a shortage, my lady?”
Artemi angled her face down, so that she was looking at him through dark eyelashes. “As important as that
matter sounds, I’m afraid I am not the best person to ask. Please direct your enquiries to one of the chefs.” A surprisingly calm response from the queen - surprising in that she did not burn him to a cinder for wasting her time.
The Hunter joined her side once Saturnia had slunk from their presence. He placed a hand on her arm. “Your coolness is worthy of Mirel’s best efforts.”
But she shrugged him off irritably. “Not now, Tal. I’m not in the mood for it.”
“Tem?” He kept up with her
hurried pace, his longer legs strangely struggling with the speed.
“I am a hypocrite,” she spat. “And what is more important, Tal? Really? Love or duty? I always said – I always promised... and yet...”
“You always put your duty first. Before you met him, anyway. We are guardians, Tem. No one else will do our job.”
Her look at him was a pitiful thing to see, all full of bitterness and confusion. She pushed forward a touch faster. “Have you heard anything from Silar? He’s been gone for over a month now. I need him back here, and soon.”
“No news, my lady,” The Hunter said through gritted teeth. Fool girl didn’t need her idiot general. She had become too dependent on her little pets, and had quite forgotten her own ability to reason. There was a small hope that Morghiad could arrest her descent into simpering acquiescence, as long as he did not accelerate it. No one wanted to see Artemi turn into the sad creature that her daughter was, and yet today he thought that he had seen something... Perhaps the Fireblade was finally reawakening. “Tem...”
“Yes?”
“You are quite capable of
working these things out on your own.” She only growled under her breath in response, and their pace to the dining room became even more hurried, if that was possible. A larger collection of familiar faces were present than usual when they arrived. Most of the army’s lieutenants had seated themselves around the endlessly long table, and were merry over spilling tankards of ale. No other Kusuru was present, the others having departed on their various adventures or simply returned to solitude. Even after all these millennia, Vestuna still seemed to be rather attached to his isolation. The
giant man, Koviere, was at the table too, and the long-term philanderer Righteous Cayvil took his seat quite unashamedly beside his lover. She, just as unashamedly, was quite clearly with child. The entirety of Artemi’s family filled her end of the table, all except for Kalad, of course. He rarely ever attended these dinners, much to the dismay of his mother. Medea was also absent, as yet not returned from her first patrol duty. With any luck she wouldn’t have led her team to their deaths.
The Hunter took his seat with the army men rather than the
D’Avrohans and Jade’ans, conscious that his oldest friend was not in a mood to hear his advice on any matter whatsoever.
“Evening, Calben assassin!” the flame-haired Beetan exclaimed. “I hope you’ve brought a tale of one of your most exciting adventures with you if you intend to sit with us!”
He grinned. “Alas,
I think you’ve heard them all before.”
“Tell us how you found The Heart again. I like that one,” Jarynd said with his lop-sided snarl of a mouth, “Especially the bit about the girl with the harp in the glacier.”
“Ah, maybe after a few more drinks. What I’m more interested in is how our little green-eyed cadet is doing.”
Tortrix, who was sat directly opposite him, leaned back. “Well, he’s still alive, which is a surprise given Toryn’s somewhat punishing regimen.” The lieutenant’s eyes darted briefly towards Artemi’s end of the table. “But he’s learned quickly, very quickly indeed. He’s ready to take his oaths – well, maybe once he learns a little more about being polite. Apart from Toryn and I, everyone else seems to treat him as if he might shatter. And that only
makes him think he can get away with being rude to just about everyone, which he frequently does.”
The Hunter very nearly scoffed. These Calidellians had their ideas of propriety or manners entirely the wrong way around. Honesty was far more important and, if their former king had taken a genuine dislike to them, it would be far easier to rectify than if he’d pretended otherwise.
This time Orwin spoke, “He was our king, and it’s not easy issuing him orders when he gives you that same look of knives that’d once have had you exiled or imprisoned. He died
fighting eisiels – a hero-”
“And it does not help that our queen...” Pavon cut in with a low voice. “...That our queen refuses to remonstrate with him over anything. She is all smiles and simpers as if they were still married.”
A host of eyes moved quietly towards Artemi, including The Hunter’s, but she was too distracted to notice. In truth, her mind looked to be preoccupied with anything but the conversation going on immediately around her. It was not an expression of contentment that she wore.
“And what are we going to make of him when he grows up and regains his memories? Will one of us have to step down as lieutenant? Or Rahake resign as captain?” Pavon continued, chewing his lip. “Someone needs to start making these decisions.”
The Hunter had dealt with the very same problems all too often himself. “He’s not that man yet. He’s not even a man yet. What did you do with Artemi when she was in the same position?”
Tortrix’ serious expression broke into a grin. “Well, we had Silar and Beodrin directing that, and they saw fit to make her into Morghiad’s personal
bodyguard.” The lieutenant shrugged. “But that captain is now gone and our general’s not here to offer his recommendations at present.”
Blazes, couldn’t these men think for themselves? It was always Silar this and Silar that. “If your old king’s that special then make a role for him instead of trying to find one. And I’m sure Rahake is clever enough to come up with something half useful.”
“Do you think we should start... you know... pushing them together?”
Tallyn Hunter only folded his arms in response. It wasn’t something he particularly wished to discuss or
think about.
“Hey, we should open a book on it again.” Luna grinned. “Come on, three gold says he’s made a lord and running rings around the rest of us within the next three months. Anyone else?”
“I’d like to be lord of her ring,” Beetan murmured, drawing no laughs at all from his companions. “What?” His bright eyes sparkled as they jumped between stony faces. “Don’t you people enjoy my humour anymore?” He shook his head. “Four months. It’ll take at least that for him to look like he can grow a beard.”
“Four months it is. You have any better ideas, Tal?”
The Hunter frowned. “Artemi may have loved him again, but there is no guarantee he will love her. As yet I’ve seen no sign of it.”
The mouths of the other men dropped open.
“I’m sorry to say it, for her sake as much as anyone else’s. But he is not an old vanha-sielu with centuries of moulding like she and I have had. He’s still new.”
“But he’s the same,” Orwin protested. “He always pulls this face when he’s annoyed.” The youngest
lieutenant did a remarkably good impression of the former king, pulling his eyebrows together and almost pouting with his lips.
The others responded with nervous smiles and half-hearted laughter.
“You know, I saw him do something really weird the other day,” Jarynd said quietly. “-with Blaze. He handles it... oddly. I mean, I’ve seen both kahrs do unexpected things too, but they don’t ever... they’ve never thrown the rules away. And the old Morghiad certainly never used to.”
The Hunter nodded in silence.
There was something he didn’t like about Morghiad’s set of skills. No one had any idea about their origin, and no one had succeeded in getting him to speak of his past. This was just the sort of treasure hunt that Tallyn loved, and Artemi still would not allow him to pursue it! And Khasha – if he’d stayed, he would have made a very suitable investigator for such a problem. Only, the queen had decided upon sending Silar, who seemed too preoccupied with a woman he’d spent a single night with to be rational enough. Of course, no one had told The Hunter about the general’s little affair; he had sniffed that one out all by himself.
“Tallyn Hunter. I would speak with you.” The queen’s firm voice broke all thoughts and conversation. She stood at the end of the table, eyes as fierce as he’d ever seen them.
The Hunter stood quietly, and went to join Artemi in a darkened corner of the room. Not that it was very dark; few places in this palace were. A moment passed before the chatter at the table resumed. “What is it, Tem?”
She clenched her jaw briefly. “You. I am annoyed at you for not being firmer with me.”
He could feel his cheeks reddening. “Ah... in what sense?”
“You should have said something! All this time – I’ve been... I was... I’m tame!”
“Tame?”
“Yes, tame! These swords are nothing but decorations! That woman today – oh, light, I saw what she had that I have been missing. And the pronouncement I made to her – that love, relationships are secondary to our duty – I used to believe it, and yet I very nearly set down my blade because I was ruled by my bloody heart! Tal, all this – my family – it’s wrong, so
wrong-” She was babbling. “-And the way I-”
“What do you mean by setting down your blade?”
“I...” Her voice faltered, and she broke eye contact.
“Artemi?”
She sighed softly, lowered her voice and spoke in ancient Dekusan, “Before I found Morghiad I was on my way to the gate. I planned to submit myself to the Law-keepers for final... for final-”
“No.” She wouldn’t do that; she wouldn’t even think of doing such a thing. Not The Fireblade, and not
without him knowing she was so lost. “You would never have gone through with that.”
She closed her eyes. “It was a mistake.”
“Because of a man?”
“He rules me, Tal. Even after he died. I had no choice-”
Tallyn Hunter struggled not to clench his fists and yell with fury. Not in front of an audience. Not before her family. He spoke slowly, quietly, “We spent. Centuries. Learning. How to fight as we do, so that we could make this fault-ridden, cess pit of a world into something better. And you had all
that skill, skill that I would have torn off my arms and legs to have – and you wanted to throw it away? Because some idiot you fell in love with wasn’t around to tuck you in at night anymore? Artemi...”
“I’m sorry, Tal. I’m sorry.” A single tear rolled down her cheek.
The door looked sorely tempting at that moment. Really, he had more than repaid his debts to her in the time he had remained in Gialdin. There was no more reason for him to stay.
“But listen to me.”
His gaze returned to her, unwilling as he was to allow it. And
those eyes: big, dark eyes.
“I have sat through this dinner, an
d I have watched my family speak of trivialities; I have listened to the lieutenants’ discussions on Morghiad. It made me realise - I was never supposed to have children or... do any of that. I love them – it’s not that I didn’t want them – that time was perfect, but...”
“But you were made to do something else first.”
She half smiled. “If you want to use that argument, the only thing I was made for was breeding in The Crux. No. I was not made for anything, but I
was trained for something other than living as some tamed, widower queen. I can do far more out there than stuck in this blasted, white mess of a castle. I want to be free, Tal.”
The Hunter’s anguish almost immediately faded into mirth. He missed that old Artemi. Not the one who listened and discussed and pondered, but the Artemi who simply did whatever she damn-well pleased. “Well, then, if you do not wish to be tamed again, what will you do with Morghiad?”
She frowned. “I cannot undo that. He took a part of me away, and
now he has brought it back. If I can keep him close I shall. At least my children are grown up, and are ready to go their own way.”
“And they would do far better with Artemi Fireblade as their mother than Artemi Sorrowblade.”
The Fireblade Array: 4-Book Bundle Page 130