Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series

by Tove Foss Ford

  A harsh intake of breath from Menders made her start. She followed his gaze to a shattered stone wall that was still standing.

  There were dark shapes on it. Paint? Then they drew nearer, and Katrin could focus her bleared vision.

  It was as if someone had painted silhouettes on the wall – people. Frozen forever as dark smears of ash against the stone, seared into shadows by the thermaline bomb.

  ***

  The train ground its way back to Erdahn. Once there, Katrin fled to the carriage and horses, accompanied by Menders and the Guard. They were all quiet, sickened.

  They had been able to hear the cries of amazement and jubilation from the Council, scientists and military officers as they walked through the destroyed village. Menders jumped down from the carriage and followed them, but had returned within minutes.

  “There is no-one alive,” he said, his voice shaking. “Not even bodies. All burned completely away.” He flung himself down in a seat and said no more. Katrin couldn’t speak. She felt cold and weak, and huddled close to the small lignus heater in the center of the carriage.

  Finally back in her suite, she held still for Menders to get her out of the formal gown of the Queen of Mordania and then went to her wardrobe and took out her warmest dressing gown before she removed the ugly red wig and makeup, transforming herself back into – who? She wasn’t too sure of who she was any more.

  Instead of collapsing on the bed, she made her way into the lounge of the suite, sinking shakily down on the edge of a chair. Sunny sat down beside her, licking her hand in an attempt to comfort her.

  Menders also appeared in a dressing gown and settled on the sofa. Once or twice he tried to speak, but couldn’t seem to summon the energy. His face looked haunted, his eyes hollow behind his clear indoor glasses. She wondered if she looked the same.

  “Having something like this…” Katrin managed once, then fell silent again, shivering, though the fire was roaring merrily.

  The room grew darker. The year was well into the long nights now. Neither of them had the energy to light a lamp, but sat silently as the light dimmed.

  “I wish I was a little girl again,” Katrin heard herself say abruptly. “Then I would still be small enough to climb into your arms so you could hold me and make it all right.”

  Menders looked directly at her – then held out his arms.

  In a moment, he was holding her close.

  “My little princess,” he whispered.

  “Why would anyone make a thing like that?” Katrin asked after a while.

  He didn’t answer.

  ***

  Menders stood at the window of his office in the Palace, looking down on The Promenade below. It was the day after the test of the thermaline bomb. He was still shaky and felt as if his ears were stuffed with wool.

  He’d been trying to write another letter to Eiren, but couldn’t manage it. He hadn’t been able to do anything, not since seeing that hellish device detonated and the horrifying, greasy black shadows that had been people and animals.

  Katrin was still in shock, very quiet and withdrawn. She wasn’t drinking, to his surprise. She’d clung to him last night until he’d fallen asleep. He’d wakened in the morning to find he’d been stretched out on the sofa and covered, a pillow placed under his head. Katrin had been asleep in her bed.

  Once she’d risen, they’d been very gentle and kind to each other. She’d spent a lot of time looking out the suite window that overlooked the same view he was gazing at now.

  The moment he’d seen what had happened to that village, he’d known his plans to end everything, make Katrin abdicate, disband the Men, go away somewhere and live a normal life, were over. He could never do it now, not with things like that bomb in the world, controlled by the kind of men who could run around an annihilated village, celebrating how effective their firecracker was. Not with nations in the world like Mordania and Artreya, which were more than fond of playing at war every few years.

  Mordania had this terrible weapon – how long before Artreya had it too? There was a brisk trade in contraband, including military weapons and supplies. Thermaline was still a secret, but for how long? Somehow, the madness would have to be controlled.

  He would not have a quiet, private life – ever. The chance for that was gone. He was trapped, forever – and so was Katrin.

  The Palace, Mordania

  14

  It Is Time To Rise

  K

  atrin was in a small glass room, looking out at the world passing by. Inside was silence. Inside was stale air breathed many times. Inside was heat, thick and oppressive.

  She could see people outside the glass room. They laughed and walked, they talked to each other. She saw Hemmett stroll by with Flori. Borsen and Stevahn rode by on their horses. Menders and Eiren, Kaymar with Ifor, Petra with her children, Cook, all moved along, talking, smiling. She couldn’t hear their words, but she could see that they were living and breathing, while she sat in the silence of her glass cube.

  Suddenly she heard a high-pitched whine and tried to cover her ears. Her hands refused to move. She was frozen in place in her tiny glass world. She called out to everyone, to warn them to run, to take cover, but her voice wouldn’t reach beyond the glass.

  There was a brilliant bright light.

  There was a roar of sound so loud it made the ground tremble.

  When the mighty, hot wind came, it struck the glass wall of Katrin’s cube. She saw the glass shatter. The fragments flowed down like water.

  She heard screams and the sound of flames. The smell of burned flesh reached her and her stomach turned.

  Then there was silence. The wind was gone. The world was black and sere.

  She was alone.

  Then they came – the voices of the Queens, which had been silent for all the years since she had not stopped Kaymar as he went to be reassigned.

  There is no time! You must throw off the shackles! It is time to rise, child! Rise my daughter! Show your heritage, daughter of Mordania! Queen of Mordania! Queen!

  Katrin sat upright in her bed, her breath coming in loud, noisy wheezes. She was in her room at The Palace. It was still dark, but a rim of light was showing at the horizon.

  She felt her heart racing. The roaring sound in her ears from the bomb had almost subsided, and she could hear a few sounds out on the street, despite the closed windows, carts moving, hoofbeats.

  The air felt clean. She was breathing deeply.

  It was cold in the suite. The fire was guttering low.

  She was shivering a little. The streak of light at the edge of the world was an incredible, cold green, color so intense that it nearly made a sound. She felt the beauty of it in her heart.

  It could all be destroyed, if the men who loved that horrible bomb had their way. All of it, as black and dead as the world in her dream.

  She had to do something!

  She was the Queen!

  ***

  Menders jerked upright in bed and lunged for the knives always kept on his bedside table. He rose to his knees, tangled in the covers, the knives held ready in both hands to use on whoever had slammed his door open with a resounding crash.

  “Menders! Get up! Get up! Hurry, we have to do something about Thermaline!”

  It was Katrin, standing at the foot of his bed in her nightgown. She grabbed his bedcovers and flapped them violently. Menders dropped the knives and snatched up his glasses, collapsing off his knees with a hand against his heart. It felt as if it was going to jump out of his chest.

  “Katrin…”

  “Hurry! We have to do something! You need to teach me about this horrible Thermaline! Get the Council! I’ll give a command to stop making these bombs! Why are you still lying there?”

  Menders managed to sit up against his pillows, dragging up the bedclothes so he wasn’t stark naked in front of her. He tried to collect his wits, which she had effectively scattered.

  She’s finally gone mad, he thought, as s
he continued to berate him for lying around while the world was ending. Then he began to really hear her words.

  Not mad.

  Not mad at all.

  “Hurry! I’m going to get dressed! What do you want for breakfast? I’m starving! How do we get the Council here? Why are you just staring at me like you’ve never seen me before?”

  Katrin apparently had no idea of the spectacle she made in her long nightgown, bald as a newborn baby, her eyes blazing with the fire he hadn’t seen in so long. Sunny, excited by all the shouting and gesturing, gamboled around her, his wagging tail a happy blur.

  Menders began to laugh.

  Katrin put her hands on her hips.

  “It isn’t funny! We have to stop them before they make more bombs! I want to see if we can bring charges against them for killing those people in that village. Stop laughing! I’m the damn Queen! I have to stop this!”

  Menders laughed some more and then managed to speak.

  “Yes, little princess, I’ll get dressed.”

  “Good! Hurry! If you didn’t sleep naked, you’d be able to get out of bed when someone needs you instead of sitting there like a stone image! Gods, I hope my clothes fit. I’m so fat I’m jiggly. And let your hair grow back in, you look terrible! Hurry up!”

  She disappeared from his doorway.

  Menders lay back in his pillows and laughed as he listened to her yelling out further instructions, observations and admonishments as she rifled her wardrobe for something to wear. Then he heard crashings in the courtyard below and knew she was throwing bottles of wine, conveniently kept on her dressing table, out the window.

  His Princess was back.

  ***

  Dearest Little Bird,

  I don’t even know just how to begin to explain what has happened except to say that Katrin has made sudden, incredible strides toward recovery. I had given up hope altogether and was going to force her to abdicate. Seeing that horrific bomb set off did something to her. She appeared in my doorway at dawn two days later, shouting at me to get up and help her do something to stop it all.

  She also scolded me for sleeping naked and told me to let my hair grow back in. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the latter and also to know that I have no intention of beginning to wear a nightie, despite the Royal Command, unless the weather is cold enough.

  Of course, I finally pulled her back down to ground level. She ate an enormous breakfast and then I spoke with her calmly about the realities of the situation. Though she is an absolute ruler, it is not possible for her to simply command that no more of these bombs be made. Mordania has been without an effective Queen for so long that many factions have a finger in the pie. If she did such a thing, which would put a considerable kink in the plans of many men who profit from war, she would be placing herself in considerable danger.

  Katrin fought me on this at first. As you know, she always tends to go for simple, if brilliant, solutions to problems. It took some explaining and unpleasant revelations to make her understand that such a solution cannot be used here. It seems perfectly reasonable that, as Queen, she should command the construction and use of Thermaline in bombs be stopped – but that would result in many plots to remove her through assassination, with the object of setting up a more tractable Queen. So far Katrin has been quite safe because she’s been so ineffectual and uninvolved. For her to suddenly stride forward issuing unpopular commands would be catastrophic.

  I had to reveal to her just how many plots there have been against her life in the past. She was dismayed and exhibited considerable anger that she hadn’t been told about them. This led to me having to point out that many of these were when she was a child, when it would have been utterly inappropriate for her to be informed of plots against her life. Also, if she had been told about every amateur plot that we’ve uncovered over the years, she would never have known a moment’s peace.

  All in all, there have been over a hundred plots against her life since the day she was born. Most of them came to nothing – and the rest were thwarted through one means and another. The fact that such things do happen made her understand that she cannot change things abruptly – at least not until she can be sure of popular support.

  So, we are working on a feasible plan for Katrin to begin taking back the Queen’s power, as is her right. It will take time, but I think some devious doings can make it nearly impossible for the armaments manufacturers to procure Thermaline. In time, she will be able to issue commands to put an end these weapons. They are truly terrible things, my darling. Seeing the effects of the one was blood chilling. Seeing the jubilation on the parts of the men who intend to use these things against other people was much worse than that.

  There has been a great deal of damage done between Katrin and me, as you know. Things are strained and I find her altered from how she was before the melancholia. Some of it is her own bewilderment at what she calls “waking up”.

  Now that Katrin can talk to me at length about her condition, it seems she was experiencing things like reduced sensation and altered vision – colors were muted, her sense of touch and perception of pain were somewhat deadened. She wasn’t even aware of the passage of time in any realistic sense, and is somewhat startled to realize that she is about to be thirty years old. This is understandable – I’m about to be fifty. I find that hard to believe and I haven’t been suffering from melancholia.

  I must close. Katrin is determined to go and see Borsen this afternoon, and since she’s been terrified of the idea of going outside for so long, I don’t want to squelch the project. She is frightened to go out even now (she is far from completely over her illness, and may always suffer from it to a degree, Franz tells me) but she is utterly determined. Since it is only three blocks and we’ll go in a carriage, I think it’s a good idea.

  Please let me know if you will be able to come here anytime soon. I miss you so very much, and I don’t want to turn fifty without you!

  Loving you,

  M

  ***

  “Is that Borsen’s?”

  Katrin was staring out the window of the plain carriage she’d requested for her trip down the Promenade. Menders tapped on the roof of the carriage. The Guard who was driving slowed and pulled over before the huge, marble fronted building.

  “It is indeed,” Menders replied, looking out his own window.

  A fresh snowfall, not yet dirtied by city traffic, added to the glamour of the store’s matched marble façade. Pillars, steps, walls all glistened as brightly as the snow. The huge red double doors stood out invitingly under the sign and motto that was now famous.

  BORSEN’S

  Practicality – Functionality – Exquisite Style

  “Menders! Oh!” Katrin craned her neck around, gazing at one part of the building after another. “Look at that dress! Oh, can I get out and look?”

  She pushed the door open and had one foot out on the steps, while the members of the Guard who were riding on the roof jumped down in surprise. Then she hesitated, backed up and closed the door.

  “No – not until Borsen can be there,” she said firmly, still looking at an exquisite, sea-blue dress in the store window. The Guards exchanged looks and clambered back onto the roof.

  Menders pursed his lips, trying not to laugh out loud – not only at the funny spectacle that had just taken place, but just for the sheer joy of seeing Katrin noticing something and reacting.

  She caught him at it.

  “What’s so funny?” she demanded.

  “Cured of melancholia by pretty clothes,” he teased. “If I’d known that would be your reaction, I’d have bought out the entire store and hauled it all up the Tower.”

  “I probably wouldn’t have so much as noticed,” she smiled ruefully as the carriage started forward again. “Borsen made that incredible place!”

  “It is incredible. I’d love to be there when you go to see it.”

  “Of course you’ll be there. Oh, look at that open gig! It’s like my
gig at The Shadows. Can we have that brought over here, Menders?”

  He was about to say something about security and driving in open gigs, but stopped himself. If nothing else, she could drive it on the Palace grounds – they were enormous.

  “We’ll work that out,” he replied. Katrin’s smiled response was worth the considerable headache arranging security would cause. “This Stevahn and Borsen’s street.”

  When they pulled up, Katrin alighted from the carriage and dashed to the front door of Borsen’s townhouse. She felt uncomfortable on the street, out in the open. She knocked quickly, before she lost her nerve.

  She felt a hot rush of shame as she looked at the gracious house and the small but exquisite front garden that Borsen had designed and planted with Stevahn. Despite living in Erdahn for six years, she had never been here, just as she’d never gone to Borsen’s. All those years and she’d never set foot in the places that were important to her beloved brother.

  “I’ll get it, dear, don’t get up.” She could hear Stevahn speaking beyond the door. The knob turned and the door swung open.

  Stevahn blinked when he saw Katrin there, grinned as he hugged her warmly, then passed her on to Varnia, who disobeyed him and sprang up, her arms outstretched, her face joyful.

  “I didn’t let you know we were coming in case I just couldn’t get all the way here, so please forgive us bursting in,” Katrin gasped, her breath coming short.

  “You come anytime. Breathe. Katrin, breathe in deeply,” Varnia said, looking closely at her face.

  “Katrin? Is Katrin down there?” Borsen was shouting somewhere in the house.

  “Baby’s awake,” Stevahn laughed. He pointed toward the stairs.

  Katrin ran. Stevahn followed, not wanting to miss anything.

  Borsen was confined to bed and looked far from his best, having lost many pounds during his illness. He was weak, tired easily and slept quite a bit, but having heard Katrin’s voice coming toward him, he was wide awake and up on his knees in the bed, trying to see down the stairs leading to the first floor.