The Rebel Queen

by Jenny McKane

  Skyresh shook his head, impatiently. “There is little point in talking of this,” he said. “I have things to do, Mother.”

  He walked away quickly. He glanced back at Mother Asta. The old woman had not moved. She was still staring at him, leaning on her staff. Her eyes were still full of sorrow.

  He sighed. Mother Asta had come too close to the truth. She had stirred up old things within him, things that were now churning inside him. He didn’t want to feel it; he didn’t want to start yearning again for something that could not be. Avalon had made her choice. He had told her repeatedly how much he loved her, but she had decided that she must rule alone.

  He had to respect that. It had been hard, so hard, at the start, but he had grown a skin over his heart. He had toughened. So what, if he had to live without her love? Other people lived with broken hearts. He could, too.

  He was a general in the new Northern army. He had a duty to do, and that was all.

  ***

  Skyresh picked up the horse’s leg, gazing at it carefully. The animal’s hoof needed to be reshod. He had been examining all the horses this afternoon, and several had the same issue. They would have to lead them into a village soon and take care of the problem. The horses needed to be in optimum condition.

  Leaning over the horse’s leg, he could see Minna, making her way towards him. On her arm, she carried a woven basket.

  He put down the animal’s leg and stood up, stretching.

  “Time for a break?” Minna was smiling.

  Skyresh gazed at her and smiled back. He nodded.

  They walked to a spot near the great fjord and sat down. He could see small clumps of ice floating through the water. He frowned briefly. The Long Cold was about to commence, and they would have to find more permanent shelter for it. Camping out was fine in the milder weather, but not during the heart of winter. The snowfall was intense, and there was always the chance of blizzards.

  His mind turned to the Outlying Zone and the extreme heat of the deserts there. He had hated it at the time; they had barely managed to survive it. But now, with the Long Cold approaching, he suddenly yearned for that dry heat. He remembered Avalon with her cheesecloth veil wrapped around her face to protect her from the desert sand.

  “What are you thinking about?” asked Minna, taking bread and cheese out of the basket and lying them on the ground.

  Skyresh shook his head. “Nothing much,” he replied. “Just that we should find a more permanent settlement for the winter.”

  Minna passed him some bread. “If Her Majesty will allow it,” she said through tight lips. “You know that she prefers to camp out.”

  Skyresh tore into the bread, gazing out over the fjord.

  “You know there is a reason for that,” he said gently. “She wants to be able to visit all the villages. Stay close to the people.”

  Minna shrugged. “So she says. But she doesn’t consider everyone else. We do not all want to be camping, even in the grand tents that we now have.”

  Skyresh didn’t answer. He picked up the cheese and crumbled a bit of it onto his bread.

  “This is good,” he said, turning to look at her. “You don’t have to do it though, Minna.”

  “Do what?” asked Minna.

  “Get me lunch,” he said slowly. “Look after me.”

  Minna smiled at him. “I do it because I want to,” she said softly. “Skyresh, I am still so grateful that you came back. That you are alive. When you fled into the Outlying Zone, I was bereft. I thought that I would never see you again.”

  He chewed thoughtfully. “You should have known that I would always return…to my people.”

  “And to me?” Her green eyes were wide, as she stared at him.

  He coughed, staring down at the ground. “Of course,” he said evasively. “To everyone.”

  Minna’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. “I was so scared, Skyresh,” she whispered. “I didn’t know if you would return, or if you did, if you would be with…her.”

  Skyresh kept staring at the ground. “Well, here I am.”

  “Yes,” said Minna, sighing. “Here you are. And we are finally together. What I dreamed of since I was a child has finally come to pass.”

  Skyresh shifted uncomfortably.

  “Skyresh,” she said, staring out over the water. “We are close to the village of our childhood. Could we stop and visit my mother? I haven’t seen her in so long. And neither have you. She would be so happy to see us.”

  Skyresh gazed over the water. “It depends, Minna. We are awaiting word on where this new Jarle safe house is. If we find out quickly, I will have to go there along with some others.”

  Minna nodded. “I understand, but it might take a while. The village is only over the next mountain, as you know. If we have time.” She glanced at him quickly. “She hasn’t seen us since we have been…together. And we could take the time to plan our ceremony.”

  “Ceremony?” Skyresh brushed the crumbs from the bread from his hands. “What ceremony?”

  Minna laughed a bit nervously. “I thought that we could think about a commitment ceremony,” she said quickly. “Mother would be pleased to help us arrange it.”

  Skyresh turned and stared at her. “A commitment ceremony? Between the two of us?”

  “Yes, Skyresh.” She nodded decisively. “It is the next step between couples, don’t you know? We could plan it for the spring, when the Long Cold has thawed. Back in the village.”

  Skyresh took a deep breath. “That is a long way off,” he said, standing up. “A lot could happen between now and then. Let us just think about it a bit more. If things happen like I anticipate, we could be scaling the High Wall soon and advancing on the city. We just need to wait for Avalon to find the spell.”

  “Avalon.” Minna’s voice was low and flat. “It’s always about her, isn’t it? We can’t put our whole lives on hold to wait for her, Skyresh.”

  He stared at her. “Minna, it isn’t about that. This is about finally securing freedom for the realm. It is about what we have been fighting for our whole lives. What my parents fought for.” He took a deep breath. “What my father died for.”

  Minna stood up, picking up the basket. “I will not wait forever, Skyresh. We are together. Everyone knows it. Even the precious queen realizes it. We must formalize our union before the Goddess.”

  She walked off, up the track back towards the camp.

  Skyresh stared out, over the moving waters of the fjord. He hadn’t anticipated this. A commitment ceremony? She wanted to formalize their relationship before the Goddess, in front of their friends and family? She wanted to have a celebration of what she thought was their great and enduring love for each other.

  He took a deep breath, as he watched a piece of ice moving through the water. How could he do it? It would mean…it would mean that there would never be any hope, not any longer. That whatever he felt for Avalon must be buried and forgotten, forever.

  He had thought that he had already done that. That the love that he felt for her had passed, but it seemed that it wasn’t quite true. And he suddenly realized that he had fallen into the relationship with Minna as a retaliation against Avalon.

  It was true what Mother Asta had said. It wasn’t fair on Minna. And it wasn’t fair on all of them.

  He stood up suddenly. He should tell Minna that he couldn’t make a formal commitment to her. But what would happen then? There would be tears and recrimination. She would accuse him of never loving her and always holding a torch for their queen. And he couldn’t go there. Not now, when they were on the cusp of advancing towards the south.

  He had to focus all his energies on the battle that was to come. He didn’t have time for all this emotional mess.

  He walked slowly back to the camp. He would tell Minna…but not yet. Not now.

  ***

  Avalon crouched down, taking the hand of the small child. The little girl gazed at her adoringly.

  “Thank you, my queen,” said
the woman, who was lying in the bed. She coughed suddenly and violently.

  Avalon frowned. “You are not any better, are you?” She had visited this woman on her last foray into this village. The woman had been weak then, but now she was completely bedridden.

  The woman smiled weakly. “It is the will of the Goddess,” she whispered. “I am not long in this world, I fear. But it has given my life meaning to know that you are queen, and you will rule over this realm again.”

  The little girl blinked, looking from her mother to Avalon.

  “You have family to look after her?” Avalon whispered, taking the woman’s hand.

  The woman nodded. “Yes. My husband’s mother. He died, years ago, but my mother-in-law is willing to take my Silja and raise her as her own.”

  Avalon nodded. “That is something,” she said slowly. “I will look out for her, as well. When Silja is old enough, I will train her, as an Anasta warrior, if you desire.”

  The woman’s eyes glowed. “Oh, my queen, that would mean the world to me! I was only a small child myself when the Jarle invaded our realm. I remember the Anasta warrior women, a little bit. I think that I met your mother, one of the queens, once.”

  Avalon’s heart stilled. “You met her? What was she like?”

  The woman’s eyes softened. “She was magnificent,” she breathed. “She rode through our village on her white horse. She looked a lot like you.”

  Avalon’s eyes filled with tears. “I wish that I had known her.”

  The woman coughed, turning to her side. Avalon rubbed her back slowly. When the fit had passed, the woman gazed at her, unblinking.

  “All the queens of Masgata would be proud of you,” the woman said. “Your destiny is at hand, my queen. The people love you and will do anything for you. Never forget that.”

  The little girl pulled at her sleeve. “Am I really going to be a warrior, like you, one day?”

  Avalon smiled gently. “Yes, Silja. You will be a great warrior woman. You will be an Anasta.”

  The little girl’s eyes glowed. She skipped out of the room. Avalon watched her leave. It was the way of children; the promise had made her forget her sorrow for the moment. She was glad of that.

  Avalon turned back to the bedridden woman. “You should rest now.” She stood up. “I must depart. I have more people to see, but I will remember Silja. You have my vow, before the Goddess.”

  The woman nodded, weakly making the gesture of respect to her queen.

  Avalon left the hut, tears in her eyes. The woman was so brave. She was dying but was still devoting all her energy towards the future of her daughter.

  It was like this, everywhere that she went. In every village and hamlet. The Stromel were a brave, fearless people. They had been oppressed, but it had never broken their spirit. In these small places, it was so alive it took her breath away.

  She had to be brave—for them. She had to be fearless to match their own courage.

  She strolled into the village square. People reached out to her, as she passed, touching her tunic. They made the gesture of respect, bowing low. Their eyes shone with adulation.

  Avalon’s heart warmed. It was enough. This love, that the people had for her. She gazed down at Hansa, who was plodding alongside her. The animals loved her, too. They all loved her, as she loved them.

  She squared her shoulders, taking a deep breath. It had to be enough. So what, if she was never loved as a woman? So what, if Skyresh held her in contempt and was with Minna? So what, if her inner council still didn’t fully trust her? She could endure the loneliness of all of it. She had a bigger mission to fulfil in life.

  She thought of Silja, the little girl, whose mother would soon be gone. That little girl needed her. All the people needed her.

  It was enough.

  ***

  It had been a long day. Avalon walked into the hut where she was staying. The family were having their evening meal around a small table. They stood up when she entered, gazing at her adoringly. They seemed unsure of how to act around her.

  “Please,” she said. “Go on with your meal. I think that I shall go to the temple for a little while.”

  They nodded, sinking back into their seats. Avalon turned and walked back out.

  She walked through the dirt lanes, retracing her steps. The temple was near the village square. When the Jarle had first invaded, they had destroyed all the temples, burning them and smashing them to the ground, but now, since the Far North had been liberated, the Stromel had rebuilt them. Every village that Avalon entered had a newly built temple. The people would always drag her there to show it off.

  The statues of Agnor that had once stood proudly in the village squares had been destroyed. In their place, they raised a statue of the Goddess. She gazed down at Avalon, as she passed by, now, her arms raised high in the air.

  Avalon stopped for a moment, gazing up at her. Goddess of Light. Liberation was coming to all of Agnoria. Avalon could feel it. She just had to find a way for their forces to defeat the High Wall so that they could advance into the South.

  She stepped into the temple, breathing deeply the scent of the sandalwood incense that wafted through the sacred space.

  They had done a great job. It looked almost exactly like the temple at Mother Oda’s in the Safe Zone. Candles burned all around, and brightly colored cushions were scattered across the floor, in front of the large statue of the Goddess.

  She sank to her knees in front of her. She closed her eyes, remembering a temple, just like this one. The first that had been rebuilt after the burning of Vyheim Castle. It was in a little village further north. Mother Asta had taken her there for her initiation.

  Her hand touched her neck, softly tracing over the tattoos. They had carved them into her flesh that night after the ceremony. It had hurt badly, but she had endured it, knowing that these patterns were sacred. They connected her to her mother and her grandmother and to that long line of warrior women who had ruled Masgata since the beginning of time.

  And she painted her face with the sacred symbols when she went into battle now. Just like her mother and grandmother had done before her.

  Skyresh had been by her side, the night of her initiation. He had taken her hand as she was being tattooed and given her courage. She had stared into his beautiful blue eyes and knew that everything was going to be alright…

  She shook her head. She must not think of any of that now. She had to meditate on the way forward for their people.

  “Goddess of Light,” she whispered. “Please, show me the way to breach the High Wall. The dark magic is strong there. It is like an energy field above it, pulsating with evil.”

  The Goddess shimmered before her.

  “To breach the High Wall,” she said. “You must confront the woman who walks alongside you. The woman who will deceive a man you once called friend.”

  Avalon frowned. “What woman, Goddess?”

  A woman walked out from behind the Goddess. Avalon stared at her, not understanding. The woman wore a long, black dress. On her head sat a circlet of thorns, which was drawing blood. The blood oozed down her pale face, as she stared at Avalon.

  Her dark eyes rested on Avalon. They were cold and expressionless.

  Avalon gasped.

  She could feel the air turn cold, suddenly, and the candles sputtered wildly.

  She stared, disbelieving, at the woman’s face and figure. At the long, brown hair that billowed around her shoulders, falling down her back in soft waves. The woman smiled, stretching out a hand towards Avalon, but her face was like a mask, full of malevolence.

  The woman looked exactly like her.

  Chapter Five

  Everard adjusted the bag on his back. He had been sitting in this saddle since day break, and he was starting to get weary.

  He glanced over the landscape, as he cantered on the horse. The outskirts of the city had long gone and had been replaced with wide, open plains. Farmers were out in the fields, ploughing. In one p
addock, he had seen women bending over, carefully picking fruit off the vines. Their veils were wound tightly around their heads, and they did not look up as he passed by. Some of them had babies on their backs, whose heads poked out of the slings their mothers had secured them in.

  And always, there was the children. In every small village he passed through, they would run to him. They were usually bedraggled. Dirt smeared their faces, and they wore no shoes on their feet, but their eyes were always bright, and their smiles wide.

  He smiled to himself. He knew the reason why. It was a calculating charm – they wanted coins or food. He was happy to oblige them, often showering them with coins as he cantered by. They would thank him, then scramble for the coins on the ground, disappearing into their huts to count how much they had amassed.

  Still, he had to be careful. The Stromel would grow suspicious of him if he kept handing out coins in such a fashion. He wasn’t in his Grey Guard uniform; to travel as his true self was dangerous. Not here, in the South. But as he headed into the rebel-occupied Far North, identifying himself as a guardian would be suicide. As would handing out coins. A true Stromel would not have so much or be quite as generous.

  He sighed, rubbing his neck ruefully. He was getting tired and needed a break. There was a village about a mile away. He would stop there and have a quick drink and something to eat – let his horse rest for a while.

  Apparently, he had travelled this journey before. His first mission, with the woman who was now the Rebel Queen. He squinted his eyes tightly, trying to remember her, but it never worked. Her face was gone from his mind. He shifted uneasily in the saddle. It was so strange that he had no memory of anything that had happened.

  He knew that a lot of people didn’t believe him. They would smile quickly and nod when he told them he simply couldn’t remember, but he saw it in their eyes. The disbelief. They thought he lied to protect himself. It was something that they would have done, in the same situation.

  He stared ahead of him. Yes, there was the outskirts of the village. He would be there in five minutes.