by Jenny McKane
The queen sighed dramatically. “My blood was up,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Usually I would follow process, but it was extreme circumstances. You must see that.”
Mother Asta stared at her. “This group that attacked you,” she said slowly. “You said they claimed you were useless and had to die. Why would they think such a thing?”
The queen stared at her. “How would I know? I am not privy to their thoughts. There are disenchanted people everywhere, I suppose. You can only try your best, but some will always believe that you could do more.”
Mother Asta frowned. “It just seems strange,” she said. “We have not heard talk of any splinter groups, and the people have been so supportive and generous. They are all well aware of what we have achieved…and what we hope to do.”
The queen sighed. “Well, we can’t know everything,” she said flatly. “And we can’t hope to know what is in every person’s heart.” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “Are you saying that you don’t believe me?”
“No, not at all,” said Mother Asta slowly. “I am just trying to understand. It is reflection, Avalon, which is what we always do. You know that.”
The curtains to the tent suddenly opened, and Minna walked in.
Mother Asta gasped. The young woman looked awful. Her eyes were red rimmed, and she was so pale that she looked like she might keel over at any moment.
“Minna,” she said.
But Minna ignored her, advancing on the queen.
“Tell me,” she hissed. “Tell me how you are alive while he died.”
The queen stood up, staring at the woman.
“You mean Skyresh?” said the queen slowly. “I have already told you. They ambushed us, and he was killed, trying to defend me.”
“And you ran away?” cried Minna. “Like a dog with its tail between its legs? I always knew that you were a coward.”
The queen’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You forget who you address,” she whispered. “I am your queen, and you are not being respectful.”
Minna laughed. “I have never respected you,” she scoffed. “Why pretend now?”
The queen smiled suddenly. “I see that you are angry, but I do assure you, I did everything that I could, and I have killed the people responsible. That must make you happy, at least?”
Minna was shaking so hard, Mother Asta thought that she might collapse…or strike the queen. The old woman got up and put her arm around her.
“Avalon,” she said quietly. “Minna is grief stricken, as you can see. Perhaps we should not talk of it anymore.”
“Fine by me,” said the queen, tossing back her long, dark hair. “I am feeling restless anyway. I might do a tour of the camp. If you will both excuse me?”
Mother Asta nodded. Minna just stared at her, her eyes filled with hate.
The queen left.
“That woman has no soul,” said Minna bitterly. “She acts as if nothing has happened! He was her general, and he saved her life so many times! I always told him she was a fraud. She is showing her true colors now.”
Mother Asta patted her arm. “Everyone reacts in different ways,” she said slowly. “Perhaps this is just Avalon’s way of coping with her grief.”
Minna gazed at her, her eyes glimmering with tears. “She isn’t grieving,” she replied flatly. “She is as cold as steel.”
Mother Asta embraced her, holding her tightly. Minna’s body shuddered, and she started weeping, burying her face into the Mother’s shoulder.
“That’s right,” whispered Mother Asta. “Let it out. You need to, my darling girl.”
As Minna wept on her shoulder, Mother Asta thought of the queen.
Minna was right, of course. Avalon was acting strangely; there was no denying it. Her almost flippant description of what had happened, with no understanding of the consequences. Mother Asta could sense no sadness within her.
What had Minna said?
I always told him she was a fraud.
Minna had not meant the comment as anything but an expression of her dislike of the queen, but still Mother Asta’s blood ran cold.
If she didn’t know any better, she would say the same thing. The queen who had ridden into camp was a fraud. But how could that be?
***
Disella walked towards the fjord, watching the ice moving slowly through the water. It was all playing out exactly as she intended.
The people were turning against their queen. Soon, they would banish her, and then the rebellion would fall to pieces.
She crouched down at the water’s edge, gazing at her reflection. She still looked exactly like the Rebel Queen, but she would have to find a private place very soon, a place to strengthen the spell which maintained this form. It would start to wear off slowly if it wasn’t maintained, and she couldn’t afford for that to happen; not yet, anyway.
She thought of the old Mother, who had questioned her so intensely. The woman was suspicious, there was no doubt about that, but she couldn’t prove anything. The spell was too powerful; Disella had been perfecting it for months now. She knew that the power of the Goddess was dimmed and that the old Mother would not be able to invoke her.
She put her hand into the water, slowly letting her fingers drift along the surface. Her reflection dissolved. Disella straightened, staring out over the water.
She would have to keep a close watch on the Mother. Even start to undermine her, to the others, if the old woman kept challenging her. Drip feed them lies that the Mother was losing her mind perhaps. Disella smiled, toying with the idea in her mind. It wouldn’t be so hard. The woman was ancient. People would be receptive to the belief that she was growing addled and could not be trusted.
She thought of the other woman, who was so obviously in love with this Skyresh. What was her name again? That’s right. Minna. Minna didn’t like her queen and never had. It wasn’t just grief that caused her to speak so disrespectfully. Disella sensed that she had always hated her; it had come off the young woman in waves so strong, it was almost visible. What had the great Avalon done to deserve such animosity?
She smiled, letting the thought go. It hardly mattered. Soon, her work here would be done, and then, she would finally get to go to the city and practice magic alongside her father. He had been promising her, forever. She just had to do this for him, and then she would reign alongside him, as was her birthright.
Her heart tightened, thinking of her mother. How she would have loved it, seeing the Rebel Queen brought to her knees. Disella had made a promise to herself, long ago, that she would enact revenge on the usurper. She had studied hard, but it wasn’t just for the power, to rule alongside her father. It was for her mother, as well.
She would destroy the Rebel Queen and all her grandiose plans to take over the realm. Just as the queen had destroyed her mother.
It wasn’t just political. It was deeply personal.
***
“Mother Asta. You have some visitors.”
The old woman looked up, distracted, staring at the man who had just entered the tent. “Who are they?”
She had been sitting with Minna for hours, soothing her. Finally, the young woman had drifted off into a troubled sleep, and Mother Asta was taking the opportunity to eat some lunch.
The man shrugged. “An old woman from a local village and her granddaughter.”
Mother Asta wiped her hands and stood up. She sighed. “Send them in.”
An old woman walked hesitantly through the curtains, holding the hand of a little girl with bright golden hair. When she saw Mother Asta, she bowed deeply. “Mother. Thank you so much for taking the time to see us.”
“You are welcome,” replied Mother Asta, smiling. “What can I do for you?” She gestured for them to sit down on the cushions next to her.
The old woman settled the girl first, then collapsed into her own cushion. “It was a long walk,” she said, a bit breathlessly. “And I am no longer young. It takes a lot out of me, trudging through the mo
untains, especially in the snow.”
“What is your name?” asked Mother Asta gently.
“I am Lisse, Mother,” said the old woman. “And this is Silja, my granddaughter. We hail from the village over the great mountain.”
Mother Asta nodded. “Would you like some refreshments?” She poured them each a glass of water, and then she sat down on her cushion, gazing at them expectantly.
“It is about the queen, Mother,” said Lisse hesitantly, sipping her water. “I didn’t know who to talk to about it, but then my neighbor suggested you.”
Mother Asta frowned. “What about the queen, Lisse?”
The old woman hesitated again, gazing down at her granddaughter.
“It seems silly,” she said slowly. “And you will probably get angry with me, but it has been troubling me, and even if I am laughed at or told off, I can accept it.”
“I will not tell you off,” said the Mother calmly. “Nor will I laugh. What is troubling you?”
The old woman stroked her granddaughter’s hair. “It was Silja,” she said. “Silja approached the queen when she rode into our village. Queen Avalon knows her; in fact, she promised that she would train Silja as an Anasta warrior after her poor mother died.”
Mother Asta’s eyes widened. “Avalon has told me of this,” she said, staring at the little girl. “You want to be an Anasta warrior, Silja?”
The little girl nodded solemnly.
“But Mother,” continued Lisse, “when Silja approached the queen, it was very odd. Silja told me that the queen failed to recognize her and remembered nothing of her life or her promise to the girl.”
Mother Asta’s heart started to thud uncomfortably. “Tell me more.”
“Silja was so upset,” said Lisse. “Her mother has just died, and then for the queen to treat her like that, well…it overwhelmed her. I tried to comfort her, and indeed, I thought at first that the queen had probably just forgotten. She would see so many people, after all, in many villages. Why should she remember one little girl?”
“Avalon would remember,” said Mother Asta, frowning. “As I said, she told me of this little girl, and that she was going to train her when she was old enough.”
Lisse nodded. “I have always respected the queen, Mother.” She hesitated, taking a deep breath. “Then Silja insisted that the woman wasn’t the queen. That it was someone pretending to be her. I laughed at first, but then she said something else…she claims that she remembers a mole on the queen’s right hand, and that this woman doesn’t have it.”
There was silence.
Mother Asta leaned forward, gazing at the little girl. “You don’t think that the woman claiming to be the queen is her, Silja?”
The little girl shook her head firmly. “No,” she said clearly. “It’s not her, Mother. It’s not just the missing mole. The queen is not acting like herself.”
“No,” agreed Mother Asta quietly. “She’s not. I have noticed it myself.”
Lisse’s eyes widened. “I must admit, I was reluctant to say anything. I don’t want trouble, but with what Silja said, and then all these odd rumors about the queen executing people in a village, I was concerned.”
Mother Asta nodded then stood up. “Thank you for coming to see me. You did the right thing. I will meditate on what you have told me with the Goddess.”
Lisse stood, also, pulling Silja up. “Thank you, Mother.”
Mother Asta smiled. “You should go to the campfire opposite and get some food before you walk back.” She bent down, taking Silja’s hand. “What an intelligent girl you are, Silja. Avalon was right to decide to train you as a warrior. I will be watching your progress with great interest.”
The little girl’s eyes glowed. “I want to serve, Mother. I am practicing my warrior postures every night.”
Mother Asta laughed. “You will be a great warrior woman. I know it.”
They bowed, and then they left the tent.
The smile faded from Mother Asta’s face. She sank back down onto the cushion, staring at the statue of the Goddess.
Mother Asta was a great believer in the natural instinctive powers of children, and she believed Silja implicitly. Besides, it was as if the pieces of a puzzle were slowly falling into place. The woman was not acting like Avalon would act. She also didn’t remember things, things that she should. Mother Asta remembered that she hadn’t known what direction to go to get to her tent, and she had asked Mother to sit on the wrong chair. Little things, perhaps, but they all came together to make the big picture.
It was true. Her instincts were correct. The woman who was claiming to be Avalon wasn’t her.
She glanced at the curtains to the tent fearfully. Her heart started to beat wildly. If the woman wasn’t Avalon, then who was she?
And where was the real Avalon and the others?
***
Hansa collapsed into the snow, panting. They were almost there. She could see the camp in the distance.
Sidsel neighed, tossing back her mane.
I must drink, said Hansa. I will die, if I do not.
The fjord was just ahead of them. Hansa could see the water moving, heavy with ice. Her dry mouth yearned for it.
I am thirsty, too, said Sidsel. We will drink first, and then we will make it to camp.
They got to their feet and approached the water. They both drank deeply.
Hansa raised her head. She could see someone, sitting on the banks of the fjord in the distance. The figure looked familiar. Her first instinct was to bound to the woman.
The wolf started to whine.
The sorceress is here, she said. We are too late. What should we do?
Sidsel raised her head, staring at the woman.
Quickly, she replied. We must hide before she sees us.
They turned and fled back up the track that they had just descended. They stopped behind a rock, watching the woman get to her feet and walk slowly back to the camp.
She didn’t see us, Hansa said.
No, said Sidsel. She was distracted with her own reflection. We were lucky.
They stared at the camp. It was so close, and yet, it might as well be a hundred miles away.
Hansa crouched down, whining. What could they do? If they ran into the camp, the sorceress would recognize them. She would kill them instantly, before they were able to give Mother Asta Avalon’s message.
They had run so hard. They had been delayed by the snowstorm, and one of Sidsel’s legs had begun to buckle, but they had pushed through it all, only to be defeated right at the very end.
Chapter Fifteen
Mother Asta watched the woman, who claimed to be queen, walking slowly back from the fjord. What had she been doing on the banks of the water?
She leaned against a railing, her heart pounding. The woman stopped to talk to some people then continued walking. Mother Asta could see the people stare after her in confusion. Whatever she had said to them, they didn’t understand. Their faces were stony, and they turned and started muttering amongst themselves.
Mother Asta knew what the woman was doing. In impersonating the queen and in acting in such a callous and flippant manner, she was turning the people against her. The incident at Krokr had been the fuel to ignite the fire, and what she was doing now was fanning the flames. If things weren’t dealt with soon, the warriors would rise against her. Then, all their carefully laid plans to advance on the South and finally defeat Agnor would all turn to dust.
The woman parted the curtains to the main tent and walked inside. At the last moment, she turned around and saw Mother Asta gazing at her. She smiled, slowly.
Mother Asta took a deep breath and smiled back, as naturally as she could. Now was not the time to alert the woman that she was under suspicion. They were obviously dealing with a sorceress of great power, and the way to contain her had not been revealed. It was better that the woman believed that her ruse was working perfectly.
The woman’s dark eyes were cold, as they assessed Mother As
ta, but she turned away and headed into the tent. Mother Asta let out a sigh of relief.
She walked back to her tent, her mind whirring. She must consult all the old books and find some way to break through the sorcery that the woman had woven around them. If only the Goddess would appear to her and guide her. However, the woman’s spell was too great.
With a shaking hand, she reached for an old spell book, opening it. There had to be something in here. Mother Asta squinted her eyes, reading quickly. Her heart quickened. Here was something! But this spell reversal required the practitioner to locate the source of the rival’s power.
Mother Asta closed the book with a thud, drumming her fingers on the cover. The dark magic usually used three power sources: fire, air, or water. She had no way of knowing which the woman had used to invoke her spell. Unless…
Mother Asta sat up straighter, putting the book down. The sorceress had changed form to look identical to Avalon. That spell had to be maintained; the woman could not keep taking Avalon’s form without performing a ritual to strengthen it. If she didn’t do it, she would soon start to revert to what she really looked like. And if that happened, it would be game over for her.
Mother Asta sighed, thinking deeply. She must act quickly. She had no way of knowing the sabotage the woman was still planning, and besides, Avalon and the others were out there, somewhere. A cold fear went through Mother Asta’s heart. The sorceress might have killed them all. However, she couldn’t afford to think that way.
She stood up and started pacing the room. It all made sense now. Avalon’s vision, where a woman who looked identical to her, had been revealed. Poor Avalon had thought that the Goddess was telling her that she had to overcome a dark side of herself, but it had never been that. It had been the sorceress, taking her form. Walking alongside her…
Avalon is alive, thought Mother Asta suddenly. The vision had said that the woman walked alongside Avalon and would deceive a man she had once called friend, which meant that Avalon had to be still alive for the sorceress to walk in the world as her.