“I’m afraid you won’t get that luxury any longer, my friend,” she said somewhat tartly. “Details of your valorous rescue will soon be on every tongue in the city.”
Taren made a face as if he’d tasted something exceptionally sour. “I had hoped to enjoy it a short time longer, if I may be granted that boon, Your Majesty.”
She studied him frankly a moment, thinking he looked quite handsome in his blue robes, bathed and clean-shaven as he was. “Then you shall—but just for a short time longer. The tale of your heroism will do well to inspire people, I think. I’d also value your counsel, come the conclave.”
He grinned. “Thank you for that. I’ll do my best to provide what little wisdom I may. But now it looks as if important people are awaiting, so I’ll hang onto my precious anonymity a tad longer if you don’t mind.”
And with that, he bowed his head before dropping back to ride with Mira, Creel, and Ferret. Iris had also abandoned her, leaving her with only Rafe and Jahn to either side, though they too fell back by half a horse length.
They were just entering the town square, a large space in the center kept free of traffic, blocked off by a ring of city watchmen. A pair of horse-drawn carriages was parked ahead. Standing before the carriages were Lord Loren Lanthas, along with his lady wife, Talia, an elegant and quiet woman whose easy grace Sianna could only envy. Even their two children were present, Sianna’s cousins, whom she only remembered as young children the last time she’d seen them: Lorena and Linden, the girl a pretty young maiden a year Sianna’s junior, her brother a stocky lad of twelve summers. Accompanying the duke and his family were a contingent of castle guards.
The guard captain and his men, Sianna’s honor guard, split to either side, clearing the way for her approach. She reined in a few paces from her cousin, the Duke of Carran. Around them were the press of thousands of her countrymen voicing their hearty cheers, a great roar such as she hadn’t heard since her before father had departed for war. As if rehearsed, the noise died down when Lord Lanthas raised a hand.
“Your Majesty, I welcome you to Carran!” Lord Lanthas bowed low. “This day brings great hope to troubled hearts as Sol has blessed us with your safe return. I see Sir Edwin, Lady Iris, Master Creel, and a few other familiar faces among you. These brave men, and lady, set out on a daring rescue mission, striking into the very heart of our foe’s camp to liberate our fair queen. And now they’ve returned, with Queen Sianna delivered safely from the evil clutches of the Nebaran scum and their demonic allies.”
Not quite how it played out, but it’s good theater. Sianna glanced around, seeking out Taren, but he and the others had faded into the background, it seemed. I’ll have to give credit where it’s due, but I did promise Taren his anonymity for a short time.
The crowd loved every moment of it, cheering and shouting, applauding and stomping their feet.
Sianna raised a hand, and the crowd hushed as it had before, much to her satisfaction. “I thank you, Lord Lanthas, and all the good people of Carran for this warm welcome.” Her voice sounded shrill and weak to her own ears in comparison to Lanthas’s effortless oration. “True, these heroes you see here before you delivered me from harm, yet I know such brave souls are not the only ones among us. I suspect more than a few undiscovered heroes are among you right now—your friends and neighbors. In the dark days ahead, we shall need each of you to be brave and aid in whatever ways you see fit to help keep our city and kingdom strong.” She didn’t know where the words came from, but they felt right. People murmured agreement and nodded their heads, their faces seeming heartened.
“I do not wish to inconvenience another who also was instrumental in my safe return. Please, allow King Nardual of the elven nation of Fallowin Forest to pass.”
The ranks of Lieutenant Mons’s soldiers parted neatly so that Nardual, Aninyel, and the king’s advisors could ride up to join Sianna and the others.
“Please welcome King Nardual and his people to our city. They are the first to answer our call in time of need, but not the last, and starting this very day, we begin forging new alliances. We shall join together with our neighbors from the Free Kingdoms and take back the lands from these invaders!”
As the crowds cheered, a feeling swelled in her breast, nearly unfamiliar since it had been so long since last she’d felt it—hope.
***
The speeches went on for some time longer, introductions and platitudes being made, and Creel wished dearly for a drink. However, he didn’t want to be the boor who drew unwanted scorn to himself and his friends by partaking of the wineskin Ferret had brought him earlier, though it tempted him dearly. The girl stood cloaked and still as a statue beside him, seemingly entranced with all the pomp and ceremony.
Committing it to memory to perhaps put to song some day. He glanced at Ferret fondly a moment and smiled to himself before turning his attention back to the nobility.
Sianna is a natural at this. The young queen carried herself with dignity and poise and was earnest and well-spoken, not to mention beautiful. The people of Carran already seemed to adore her, even though nearly all of them had only just laid eyes upon her for the first time.
The weather was pleasant enough that standing there wasn’t too onerous. It was a late afternoon day, mild for early winter, the sun shining and wind calm.
He wondered idly where Kulnor had gotten off to. I should’ve fallen back with the baggage train. Perhaps shared a drink with the dwarf out of sight of all this.
“What happens now?” Ferret asked.
The nobles were conversing quietly, and the pleasantries seemed over for the time being.
Creel grinned in relief. “Thank the gods that is over with. I reckon we’ll all go back to the castle and then have some sort of celebration later. Good thing, too. I could use a drink.”
“Wasn’t that cold lump of coal in your chest warmed at all?” Ferret’s gaze was challenging, although she seemed more amused than anything.
Creel snorted a laugh. “When you’ve been around as long as me, it’ll take more than flowery speeches to get excited about. Ah, looks like we’re about done here.”
Lord Lanthas was escorting Sianna and Nardual to a carriage. Accompanying them were Iris and one of the elf’s retainers who Creel thought was a steward. Lady Talia and her family climbed into the second carriage.
Creel beckoned to one of the castle guardsmen and handed over his horse’s reins. “We won’t be missed for hours, and I could use a reprieve from the saddle, a meal in my belly, and a drink in hand. A spot on Feldegast’s deck with a view of the lake would be grand right about now. What say you, lass?”
“Lead on, Coal-Heart.” Ferret sketched a mocking bow.
Creel grinned. “Wise arse.”
“Mind if we tag along?” Taren asked, surprising Creel. He and Mira had given the same guard custody of their mounts as well.
Around them, the crowd had begun to dissipate, people going back about their business, many chattering excitedly.
“Aye, the more the merrier. The pageantry a bit much for you two as well?” Creel began walking in the direction of Feldegast’s, the others falling in around him.
Taren shrugged. “I thought Sianna handled herself quite well out there, but Her Majesty did promise to shield me from impending celebrity for a bit, so I’d better take advantage of that while I can.”
Creel barked a laugh and clapped Taren on the back and winked at Mira. “This here is a smart lad. You’re learning fast.”
“Oi! This gonna be a private party?” Kulnor was jogging toward them, a grin on his bearded face. “I’ve a suspicion of where ye’re headin’, and there’s a tankard o’ ale there callin’ me name.”
“He’s quite astute as well,” Mira said with a smile.
“So he is,” Creel replied. “But then I’ve heard dwarves can smell even the thought of ale from a mile away. Come on, then, Kulnor. Ale enough for all, I reckon.”
For a time at least, the group of friend
s was able to put their recent hardships behind them. And after a few drinks had gone down, Creel reluctantly admitted to Ferret’s earlier observation that perhaps his cold heart had been slightly warmed by the queen’s eloquent speech after all.
Chapter 19
“You look gorgeous in that dress, Your Majesty,” the young woman gushed. “You wear it much better than I could ever hope to.”
Sianna sighed. “Lorena, please address me as Sianna in private, all right, Cousin?”
“As you say, Sianna.” Lorena smiled.
The dress had been donated by her cousin, and a seamstress had been hastily summoned to shorten the hem and make adjustments to the bust and shoulders so that it fit properly. Sianna had arrived the past day with her old ragged tunic and breeches the only possessions to her name. Her dresses had been borrowed from the elves, to whom she was thankful. It would have been unseemly for the rightful queen to ride into Carran looking a ragamuffin. Her old clothes had since been burned, then the hasty manufacturing of a proper queen had begun.
Lorena, named after her father, was a pretty and gentle girl, well-mannered and demure, much like her mother, Talia. She was taken with fancy dresses and flowers and jewelry, all the things a high-bred noblewoman would naturally be interested in.
Perhaps I could have been her in a different life before such ugly choices had been forced upon me. Instead, I have to go out there and act the proper queen, pretending to be wise and strong beyond my years.
Instead of having perfect skin and silky hair as a proper queen might, Sianna’s skin was freckled and burned from the sun, and her hair was filled with tangles. She had grown fit and strong during her training with the sword and subsequent travels, her hands callused from holding a sword. An ugly knot of scar tissue remained where her smallest finger had been on her left hand.
Sianna genuinely liked her cousin, who had taken on Iris’s traditional handmaiden duties when it came to helping her dress, styling her hair, and seeing that she was generally made presentable. Not that I need such constant fussing, but it’s an honor for her to act as my handmaiden for the time. And I suppose I could use some attention, she thought as Lorena ran a hairbrush through her locks. The worst of the tangles had been defeated the previous evening, a grueling process that had dismayed Lorena at the time.
Sianna had promoted Iris to acting as her unofficial chamberlain, or at least her go-between for interacting with her cousin Loren and his household, as well as dealing with Nardual and his people. The young woman had taken to it naturally, impressing Sianna at her competence. Dear Iris is a blessing for me. Iris, of course, still managed to find the time to check in on Sianna and scold Lorena if she was falling short in any aspects of her duties.
All the attention was a bit irritating, especially given what she had been through in the past months, but she didn’t want to snap at Iris or Lorena. They were merely trying to be helpful, and she did recognize the importance of being seen a proper queen in even the small details. Somewhere deep inside, she mourned the loss of that strong-willed youngest child who had the freedom to run about in men’s clothing and train with the sword behind the stables. But that time was long past her now.
Yet I will keep up my training with the sword at some point. When she would be free to do so, she didn’t know, but she had been delighted when Iris returned her sword, left behind in her friend’s care back in Llantry prior to her idiotic choice to visit the castle. For the time being, she was too busy—consulting with Lord Lanthas and King Nardual in advance of the pending arrivals of the other dignitaries—to even think about swordplay.
She could scarcely recall the whirlwind of events of the past day. They had arrived in Carran, and she gave a speech and went through some other formalities in the town square, which seemed to go over well. Then, she was taken to the castle by carriage and eventually ushered into Lord Lanthas’s private study, where they’d caught up on events. She was embarrassed to admit she’d broken down sobbing while learning more details of her father’s and brother Jerard’s deaths from Loren, a recounting she’d insisted on. He could provide no further information as to Dorian’s fate, which to her was a faint glimmer of hope that allowed her to keep praying for his survival.
Following their informal meeting, Lorena was assigned to Sianna to see her bathed and dressed suitably for her appearance at the banquet celebrating her arrival. Sitting atop the dais with Nardual and the host family, she felt isolated, under the constant scrutiny of a roomful of courtiers, officers, common folk, and servants. Since the banquet, during which she’d only glimpsed her friends from a distance, she hadn’t seen Taren, Creel, or any of the others at all.
And now she was being prepared to go pay a visit to the Ketanian army camp and perhaps walk atop the city wall and survey the defenses, saying a few words of praise here and there, all to inspire the defenders and common folk—Lord Lanthas’s idea, of course, and she knew it was a shrewd one, although calculating in a way that made her feel uneasy at playing upon people’s emotions so blatantly.
Better get used to it. She sighed.
“Are you well, Sianna?” Lorena asked sweetly, pausing in brushing her hair.
She forced herself to smile reassuringly at her cousin. “Of course, dear. I just have a lot on my mind.”
“I imagine so. But you’ll lead our people to victory. Father told me so.” Lorena smiled innocently as she resumed brushing. “We must have faith in Sol.”
I wish I had such confidence. She felt a sudden, acute nostalgia for the time spent nearly two months earlier, sitting by a campfire in the forest with her friends, even under threat of assassins and winged fiends attacking them. She’d never felt more alive than at that time, as if she were an adventurer in one of the childhood tales she’d always loved to hear. But those adventurers in the stories always prevailed in saving the kingdom or defeating evil tyrants, great and valiant heroes, the lot of them.
Sianna was no hero, simply a young and untried queen without a throne. She sighed again, feeling overwhelmed by the burden of duty thrust upon her.
***
“Send in Sir Edwin,” Sianna called to the castle herald.
The morning had been fruitful, if tiring. First, she had visited the army camp with Lord Lanthas to review the troops and speak with the commanders, at which time she tried her best to seem knowledgable while listening to scouting and logistics reports. Following that, she had visited the city gates and even walked the ramparts a short distance, praising the readiness of the city guard and taking the time to speak with a couple of the men. Her presence seemed to hearten them at least, so she didn’t mind.
On the way back to the castle, her carriage stopped so that she could pay a visit to the city’s most renowned armorer, from whom she commissioned a breastplate for herself. That, at least, had been her own idea, which Lanthas seemed to approve of. The armorer had been delighted to take on the commission.
Upon their return to the castle, she had lunch with King Nardual, and the afternoon was spent dealing with routine business of the kingdom, including a council meeting. She had two remaining tasks to deal with that afternoon—the more onerous of the two she would see to first.
Sir Edwin entered the great hall and stiffly took a knee before her, bowing his head.
“Your Majesty,” he said.
She had seen little of the knight in the past hectic days since joining with Nardual’s delegation. Edwin hadn’t been invited to the council meeting or any of the events other than the banquet. She had glimpsed him briefly in the training yard that morning, sparring with men-at-arms and other minor lords. Edwin had looked driven, as if taking his unrestrained fury out on a hapless sparring partner might put him back in Sianna’s good graces.
Wonder if he can train the cowardice out of himself.
She hurriedly pushed that churlish thought aside. I will give the man the chance to make amends. He did acquit himself well against our pursuers during our escape.
“Rise, Sir
Edwin.”
He did so, standing stiffly at attention. He wore his shiny suit of armor once again, polished to a fine sheen, and held his helm in the crook of one arm. His blond hair flowed loosely to his shoulders, and his face was handsome as ever.
Where once her pulse might have raced at the sight of him, now through the lens of betrayal, she only saw another courtier, self-important and full of bluster, his past charming flirtations merely a charade to better position himself to gain favor and raise his station with the prospect of marriage. Sir Edwin had already shown his true colors as a man lacking in courage the moment it was needed most.
“Thank you for granting me an audience, Your Majesty,” Edwin was saying. “I know I shamed you and shamed myself with my earlier actions. I sincerely repent of my failings and beg for your forgiveness. I am eager to prove my love and loyalty to you in whatever way you see fit.”
“I’m glad you are owning up to your inadequacies, Sir Edwin.”
“I am, Your Majesty. I failed both you and the kingdom.”
She inclined her chin, wondering if he was sincere or if this was merely a fine acting job. “Indeed. Should you prove yourself on the field of battle in coming days, I may grant you a pardon for your cowardice in the face of danger. A true knight embodies selflessness and bravery at all times. Prove your honor to me.”
“I shall do so, and may Sol strike me down if I fail.” He bowed low.
“Very well. You are dismissed.” That went well enough.
Edwin spun on his heel but then paused and turned back. “Majesty… Sianna, is there any chance you yet have feelings for me? That we might ever rekindle what we once had? I’ve never stopped thinking about you, night or day, ever since that day in the bailey, when you gave me your token and I rode out with your father for war.”
With some difficulty, she restrained the rush of feelings that came back from the memory of that day. How long did I spend pining over this man? And in the moment I needed him most, he failed me. After a brief struggle, she gained the upper hand and clamped down her self-control, becoming the queen she needed to be.
Trial of the Thaumaturge (Scions of Nexus Book 3) Page 16