by Krista Walsh
He left, the two guards trailing behind him, and the door closed again. At least this time they didn’t bother to lock it.
Jeff turned to Brady. “He didn’t believe a word, did he?”
“Maybe one or two. I think he believes we are who we say we are.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then they throw us in jail to rot,” said Jayden. He had finally released his blade, and was twisting it through his fingers. “We’re wasting time. By the time they let us go, Raul will probably have done his little doohickey ritual and be even more evil than he was before.”
“I don’t think it will happen that quickly,” Brady tried to reassure him. “But you’re right that he won’t sit around and do nothing. I imagine he feels weak, being back here, half the man he was. Weak men are usually the angriest.”
“It doesn’t bode well for the people who follow him,” said Cassie. “What do you guys plan to do once we get out of here? How are you going to find him?”
“First we’ll get you home, and then start at Treevale and go from there,” said Jayden. “Raul’s followers must be hiding somewhere. We’ll track him down. Maybe someone here can tell us where they saw the strangely dressed people. That should help start us off.”
“Like that woman?” Jeff asked.
Jayden speared a berry. “No. Like anyone else. Don’t push it.”
The door opened, and a servant returned with a large bowl, a second with a heavy ewer. They set them on the dresser and left the room without a word.
Taking turns, they each grabbed a cloth and washed the dirt off of their faces and hands. Jayden also had blood to contend with from the man he’d stabbed, and Jeff grieved for his favourite t-shirt that would forever bear the stains of that fight.
Cleaned and fed, fatigue now started to seep through his muscles. Sinking into the sofa, Jeff allowed his eyes to close, focused on the soothing sounds of Brady flipping through pages of a book, and Jayden back to picking at the food tray. Cassie made no noise, and curiosity pushed Jeff to squint one eye open. He found her staring at him.
Their eyes met, and she looked away, picking up the copy of Evensong. He wondered what she’d been thinking, what she wanted to say to him. He didn’t know women well—at all, if he were honest—but she was obviously mad at him for something. He just wished he knew what.
His eyes closed again, and his mind drifted on a current of semi-sleep, his limbs light and wobbly.
Images flickered behind his eyelids of half-dressed women and scary deer, which turned into cougars and pounced at his throat, tearing into his skin.
His eyes flashed open; his pulse pounded in his temples. Nothing else in the room had changed, so his head fell back again. Then dragons flew over his head. Green scales in the sunlight, beautiful now that they weren’t scary. One of the giant beasts turned its head towards Jeff. Its eyes weren’t golden like Talfyr’s, but red. Crazy. It opened its massive jaws and, with the release of a sulphurous cloud, let out a scream that cut through Jeff’s veins like ice and exhaled a wave of flame, right where Jeff stood.
He opened his eyes. Still no change in the room.
Giving up on sleep as an impossibility, he joined Brady near the bookshelves, grabbed a volume on the history of the Royal Family, and started flipping through crests and names. His mind still groggy, none of the words sank in, but the pictures were vivid and took his mind away from their situation. As his eyelids grew heavy and began to sag, his attention fell on a particularly colourful sigil: a black bear with bared teeth against an orange background. He started to read the description, but before he got farther than “One of the oldest Andvellian Houses”, the door swung open and the two guards marched in. Jeff expected to see Counsellor Basten, but instead Captain Dorning stood at attention.
“There a problem?” Jeff asked.
“I’m to take you lot down to the audience chamber. Queen Ansella wishes to judge you in person.”
Glancing at Jayden, Jeff was alarmed to see the warrior look even more shaken than Jeff felt. The man’s cheeks had blanched, his scars tight across his face. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.
Jayden’s nervousness made Jeff even more so. He tried to catch Brady’s eye, but the scholar didn’t notice him, equally fascinated with Jayden’s reaction.
They followed Dorning out of the room, and although the man wasn’t quite as chatty or relaxed as the night before, neither did he seem particularly hostile. The two other guards kept their distance, and Dorning himself behaved more as escort than captor.
Jeff did his best to keep up with the group while absorbing as many details of the corridors as possible. The stone was washed and better kept up than Feldall’s Keep, he noticed, and wondered how much work it involved to maintain everything. Just like in the Keep, tapestries covered the walls, but while the Feldall histories showed their age, these might have been woven yesterday, the colours still vibrant and rich.
He thought he recognised some of the stories from background information he’d provided in his Feldall Saga. One in particular stood out that Jeff thought he knew: the story of the first queen who was found drowned in the river and when they went to bury her, came back to life to name her accuser, her father’s first counsellor who she had refused to name as her own at her coronation. The tapestry showed a woman in a white shift, hovering over the river with her head fallen back, her long blond hair trailing down to her ankles, and her arms out at her sides. The villain stood in the shadows behind her, the royal scepter peeking out from under his robes.
By focusing his attention on the scenery, Jeff managed to keep his thoughts off what was coming next. But when Dorning stopped them in front of a pair of doors taller than any Jeff had ever seen, his stomach knotted again. He drew in a deep breath and held it for a moment. Beside him, Cassie slid her fingers between his. It would have meant more if she could look him in the eye as well, but he appreciated the gesture, and held on to her tightly as the uniformed men allowed them entrance.
Inside the hall, what looked like thousands of people waited for the group. As one they craned their heads to watch the strangers walk up the wide aisle towards the front of the room. People in bright colours and strange dress styles, hair designs complete with feathers and lace—and not just the women.
Jeff tried to keep his eyes straight ahead to avoid feeling self-conscious. He felt like the odd one out in his understated attire.
The crowd kept its silence, held its breath, the anticipation almost tangible.
Dorning stopped at the top of the aisle and gestured for them to line up beside each other. Jeff’s jaw dropped as he noticed the woman seated in the large wooden throne on the dais. At least, he thought it was a woman. The person was in a heavy gown of silver, with blue embroidered leaves along the hem. The waist was cinched tightly with a silver belt, the winged horse sigil encrusted in its centre out of lapis lazuli. She sat painfully straight in the chair, her arms stretched out along the wide armrests. Her hair, a beautiful gold, was pulled back sharply along the skull, and her face …. Jeff couldn’t stop staring. A silver mask covered her face from brow to chin, with holes around the eyes, nose, and mouth. Smooth, silver, emotionless, it inspired more awe in person than when he’d written it.
“As requested, I have brought you the four we stopped in the early hours of the morning, Your Majesty,” Dorning announced. “They were trying to find access into the Court.”
Jeff’s mouth snapped shut. He wanted to protest that they were about to knock, not barge in, but awe kept him quiet.
The woman twitched the fingers of her right hand, and the captain stepped back beside Jayden. Jeff wondered how many years of practice it had taken for the man to pick up on such subtle signals.
“Counsellor Basten has told me your story,” the queen spoke, her voice softer and higher than Jeff had expected, given the mask’s severe appearance. “You, scholar, weave an outlandish tale.”
“But true, Your Majesty,” Brady rep
lied with an incline of his head.
“That may be, but you leave us little means of verifying any part of it.”
This time Brady remained quiet. Sneaking a glance at Jayden from the corner of his eye, Jeff saw the warrior standing even straighter than the queen sat, his arm flat by his side, and his stare focused at a spot above the queen’s head. On Jeff’s other side, Cassie looked almost relaxed, as if this were only as stressful as tea at her grandmother’s house. Jeff envied both of them. He had no idea what to do with his hands, let alone the rest of him.
“Lord Jayden of Feldall, We know you,” Queen Ansella continued. “You have been recognized by this Court for your great feats of courage and loyalty, and as such We welcome you in these strange times. Unusual as your story may be, I would be inclined to lean in your favour.” Hope rose in Jeff’s chest. “If you are able to confirm two points. The fact that Raul is, without a doubt, back in Andvell, and the extent of your involvement with him, including the identities of your unknown guests.”
Jeff’s hopes crashed again. He carried his wallet on him, but somehow suspected that wouldn’t be enough.
“Your Majesty,” said Jayden. “I swear by my oath as a servant of your court that my involvement with the sorcerer Raul is purely for the benefit of crown and country. I desire only that he be stopped and brought to justice. If Your Majesty will allow me to write to my sister, she and our House Enchantress will be able to provide proof that our story is true.”
The queen’s head tilted minimally towards Jayden. A moment’s silence as she considered. “We would allow this. Although it would mean remaining in Our care for a few days longer, until Jasmine of Feldall replied to Our summons.”
Jeff heard Jayden’s teeth grind together.
“The delay would be unwise, Your Majesty,” said Brady. A few gasps rippled behind him at his seeming disrespect, but the queen didn’t appear offended. Not that it would have been easy to tell. “We witnessed Raul return to this world first hand. Even now he may be collecting allies to help him achieve his goal of regaining power. The longer we wait to find him, the greater our challenge may become.”
Queen Ansella dropped her head a fraction in a sort of nod. “And how would you suggest confirming the latter part of your story? Do you know where he has gone?”
“Unfortunately, we were separated on travelling back to Andvell,” Brady admitted. “With Treevale Fortress overrun with our dragon, we’re not sure where his next safehouse might be located.”
“You can understand my dilemma,” said the queen. “While I agree full-heartedly that we cannot wait to find and arrest Raul for treason and genocide, I do not see that your participation is required. Unless you are able to provide the necessary information, my decree is that you remain—as guests—in this palace.”
“That won’t be necessary,” another female voice called out from the corner of the audience chamber.
The crowd began to stir from their orderly observation, twisting around to see who had spoken. From his place at the front of the room, Jeff caught sight of a woman striding with long steps towards the dais. Her strawberry blonde hair flowed over her shoulders, twisted around a circlet that wrapped around her brow. Her dress, silver on blue, contrasted perfectly with the queen’s, and Jeff could only surmise that this was her daughter. The woman Jayden had named Ana.
“The Princess Ariana,” the page at the door announced, looking flustered by her sudden presence.
As if he were already attuned to the queen’s nuances, Jeff watched the tips of her fingers tap against the armrest. “Welcome, daughter,” she said in a flat tone. “You have news?”
“I do.” The Princess stopped next to her mother’s throne. “I can confirm that Raul has arrived back in Andvell.”
Gasps circulated around the room, the air growing warm and thick with the extra tension. Jeff raised his chin an inch, feeling smug with the princess’s support.
Ariana twisted her head towards Jayden. “I can also confirm that that man is who he says he is. He is Lord Jayden of Feldall. My beloved husband.”
Chapter Seven
Like most of the people in the room, Jeff didn’t know how to react. With a mind empty of all thought, he craned his neck over his shoulder at the flood of shocked exclamations. A group of men to his right, all huddled together near the front, seemed especially perturbed. People farther back stood on tiptoe, climbing over one another to catch a glimpse of the man Princess Ariana had chosen to marry.
The words churned through Jeff’s head, wormed into his ears without meaning. Jayden married? Jayden “lock up your daughters” Feldall, a husband? Jeff had spent years with this man, written notebooks full of character sketches, interviews, psychoanalyses. Not once had a wife come up. Maggie having five kids instead of two, that had been a shock, but this … Jayden had straight up lied to him.
Yet, as the initial shock wore off, Jeff felt more intrigued than angry. For one thing, it no longer mattered. Book Jayden would go on being single forever because the Feldall series was finished. Real life Jayden, if Jeff could really consider this place real, was suddenly a lot more interesting. Looking at the man now, his face going pale and then flush, not moving a single muscle from his disciplined posture, Jeff couldn’t wait to hear the story behind this one.
At the front of the room, Queen Ansella’s partially hidden stare swept over the room. Jeff noticed her fingers gripping the edge of the armrest, and the shifting of her skirt could only be caused by her tapping her foot.
Although he couldn’t see her expression, her words when she spoke sounded too calm. “Due to the inability of Our court to maintain decorum, We will move this discussion to Our private quarters.”
She rose to her feet, standing not nearly as tall as she’d appeared seated up on the dais, and turned on her heel, marching towards the doors to her private rooms. Ariana followed behind her, looking unconcerned over the chaos she had created.
Michael Dorning, his eyes nearly popping out of his head, lifted his arm for them to follow. Cassie took the lead, followed by Jayden. Brady went next, his stare glued to his friend as if he’d never met him before in his life. Jeff took the rear, not sure he wanted to leave the room full of witnesses.
They escaped the gossiping crowds through another set of high doors, which slammed shut behind them as they passed. A corridor full of gilded walls and marble pillars, and then another set of doors loomed ahead.
Why was everything in this palace to scale for a small giant?
Inside the room, the setup was similar to the audience chamber, but with smaller dimensions. The four filed in, this time left to stand as they wished. No ceremonial line for the small room. Dorning the Elder took up a post on one side of the door, and Dorning the Younger the other.
Counsellor Basten took a seat next to the throne. His left leg jogged in place, rattling the base of the chair against the floor. Jeff guessed he had a number of thoughts and questions about Ariana’s revelation, but was determined to keep his silence.
The queen unclipped her mask and placed it on a stand on a low dresser in the corner of the room. Its blank eyes continued to stare at Jeff, and he shivered, shifted slightly to put his back to it. He’d mentioned the mask in Hymn of Oleh, when the queen presented Jayden with his enchanted spear as thanks for once again keeping Andvell safe. The purpose of the mask was to maintain an image of the monarch’s neutrality in the Court, as well as create a distance between her and her people. Monarch as deity: untouchable, all-knowing yet unreadable. In the book it had been a neat effect, but in person it clashed with the human being underneath.
Without it, Queen Ansella’s appearance was soft and warm, her features delicate with high cheekbones, slim lips, and a smooth brow. Blonde and fair, she looked washed out, as if the role of queen kept her inside too often and preserved her like a museum display. With some colour, she might have been stunning, but as it was she leaned towards insignificant. Her eyes were her most striking feature. A deep brown, f
ramed with long blonde lashes, they stood out with striking contrast against the paleness of her skin.
Ariana had inherited many of her mother’s features, but with a youthful wildness. Her hair, a strawberry blonde instead of the queen’s near white hue, framed her face in thick waves kept tame by the circlet and hair pins. Her nose was broader, her lips fuller, with a ruddier complexion that suggested a lot of time spent outdoors. While Ansella had hands that befit a queen with no work but needlepoint and paperwork, Ariana’s showed signs of use. To watch her riding her horse that morning, she was clearly no stranger to the stables.
Queen Ansella mounted the one step up to her chair and sank into it, her gaze settled on her daughter’s face.
“While I appreciate the excuse to sit comfortably,” she said, dropping the formal pronouns, “do you care to explain the purpose behind that little drama?”
Ariana flipped her hair over her shoulder, her skirts swaying as she fiddled with some knickknacks on her mother’s dresser. “You wanted confirmation about Raul, and I have proof.”
“And this supposed marriage?” Ansella’s gaze switched to Jayden, who still stood at attention before the throne, and scanned him over.
“Honestly, mother, where is your sense of priority? Is that really the biggest issue?”
“Princess, I must insist you watch your tone,” Basten corrected, gently. “We have company.”
Ariana waved a hand in Jayden’s direction with dismissal. “It’s only mother’s son-in-law. I hardly see the concern.”
The lines around Ansella’s eyes hardened, and she bunched her skirt up into her hand. “Explain.”
“What is there to explain? It happened ten years ago. We were children.”
“You were twenty.”
“An immature twenty.”
“Ariana.” Jeff recognised that tone. It was the tone of voice all parents mastered, the one that told their children something horrible would happen if they didn’t smarten up and stop playing games.