by Kim Stokely
“Your Majesty?” Siobhan stands in the doorway, her brow raised as she surveys the scene inside the room.
I haven’t been so flustered in a long time, knowing I need to apologize to Siobhan for suspecting her of treason, but not knowing how to pry myself out of Bronwyn’s grasp to do so. “Please, come in.”
The sharp-faced girl marches over to Bronwyn and yanks her to her feet. “Enough of this. Do you not think the queen has more pressing matters on her mind than your hysterics?”
The shock on Bronwyn’s face must mirror my own. Siobhan’s no-nonsense approach used to annoy me. Now I think it will be a great benefit. She takes a linen handkerchief from the sleeve of her brocade gown and passes it to the still weeping girl. “Dry your eyes and do not dare to speak that traitorous woman’s name again.” She pauses to glance at me. “Unless the queen desires it.”
While Bronwyn steps back to wipe away her tears, I stand to face Siobhan. Her features, which used to seem severe, appear less so to me now. She doesn’t have Ivah’s youthful pudginess or Hanna’s beauty, but there is something exquisite about her that I hadn’t noticed before, maybe due to Oded’s Casting. Her skin is a flawless ivory. Her eyes, the light blue of winter ice.
Siobhan blinks under my stare. “Is something wrong, my lady?”
I gather my courage together before admitting, “I owe you an apology.”
“What for?”
“I . . . I jumped to conclusions about you. And I allowed Lady Moira to use my hasty judgments to her advantage. I believed you had betrayed me, not her. I’m sorry.”
The only break in her steel demeanor is the tiny smile that twitches at the corner of her mouth. She quickly dampens it. “There really is no need, my lady. I am used to being thought of as dull and too obstinate.”
I gesture for her to sit in the chair by the fire and lower myself back on couch. “Still, it was wrong of me. I hope you will forgive me for thinking so badly of you.”
Back rigid, hands clasped together in her lap, Lady Siobhan lowers her gaze to the floor. “Only if you will also forgive me.”
My heart skips a beat. What does she need to confess? “What did you do?”
Her eyes snap up at the tremor in my voice. “Nothing treasonous, Your Majesty, I swear!”
My pulse slows. “Then what?”
“I came to this position unwillingly, not wanting life in the palace, nor desiring to serve you.”
Although relieved she hasn’t betrayed me, it still hurts to learn she doesn’t want to be here at all. “I had little say in who got chosen. But if you don’t want to be here, you’re free to go.”
“Please, let me explain.” She unclasps her hands only to grab hold of the arms of the chair, as if willing herself to stay seated and not flee the room. “I am only seventeen years of age but have been caretaker to my father, as well as a mother to my four siblings, since ten years of age. I have been cook, maid, mother and doctor for seven years. I have had no learning. No friends. No life outside of my father’s estate.”
Her shaking breath and trembling hands testify that she’s scared, but she hurries on. “My father died last year and my older brother has taken a wife. She is now head of the household. I no longer have a place in our . . . their . . . home. He, my brother, thought I would be glad to be appointed to your court. He thought it would be a reward for all I had done for our family. But in truth . . . I am terrified.”
I let out a soft chuckle. “In truth? So am I.”
Ivah lifts her head from where it rested on my shoulder. “Me, too.”
Hanna walks over and kneels by Ivah. “We are all frightened and unsure of ourselves, Siobhan. But that does not mean we should hide ourselves away. Ruahk gives us all opportunities to grow and change. Some people jump at the adventure set before them. Others, like you, step with caution. But we should never turn away from these chances, for if we do, Ruahk may stop giving them. And how sad it would be to stand before him at the end of our lives, if he then showed us all the things that could have been ours, if only we had opened our hearts to the gifts he set before us.”
Something inside me testifies to the truth of Hanna’s words. I say a silent thank you to Ruahk for bringing the older girl to my court.
Siobhan’s mask of austerity starts to crack. Her eyes well with tears. “What if I fail?”
I cross to the wooden stool by the fireplace and pull it over so I can sit by her side. She starts to rise, but I stop her by placing my hand on her knee. “You cannot fail any worse than I have. But it’s one of the big things I’ve learned since coming to Ayden. Ruahk is a god of second and third chances.”
She sniffles softly before speaking again. “Truly?”
“And now, more than ever, I need you.” I survey each of the young women, glad to know I am not alone in my fear and relieved to glimpse the light of friendship in their eyes. “I need all of you. Without Kennis, I feel lost. My relationship with Kyran has grown stronger, but still, there are things I can never admit to him. Things I can only share with other girls.” It is time for me to be vulnerable and hope my trust is not betrayed again. “Will you be my confidants and personal advisors? Do you promise to keep my most intimate secrets and help me become a better queen?”
Hanna takes hold of my right hand at the same moment Siobhan grasps my left. Ivah and Bronwyn hurry over and kneel on either side of me.
Siobhan whispers intently. “I swear to be your true and faithful servant . . . nay . . . your true and faithful friend.”
“As do we all,” adds Ivah.
“We will keep your secrets unto our deaths,” Bronwyn says with her dramatic flair.
“And we promise to lift up our prayers daily for your health, your discernment, and for Ayden.” Hanna tightens her fingers around mine. “For it is by Ruahk’s grace alone that you will learn to become the queen he desires you to be.”
We are interrupted by several servants bringing in trays of food. Reesa curtsies after setting down a steaming tureen. “Your grandmother thought you and your ladies might like to refrain from eating in the dining hall tonight. She hopes you do not take offense, she took the liberty of sending your regrets to those waiting for you.”
It is the perfect ending to such an exhausting day, physically and emotionally. Never, even back in my old life, have I been surrounded by so many friends. My grandmother is a very smart woman. She knew after all the stress of the past few weeks that being surrounded by a group of girls my own age would be the perfect balm to my very weary soul.
Once we finish our meals, Siobhan plays mother hen to all of us, clearing our dishes to the side table. She also notices my drooping eyelids and recurring yawns. “It is time to let the queen get her rest.”
I manage to sit up straight even as another yawn slips out. “Wait a minute. There’s one more thing you all need to do.”
They stand in a semi-circle, expectantly.
“Please start calling me by my name. If you don’t feel comfortable calling me Ally, I insist you at least call me Alystrine.”
I make them all practice using my name as they say goodnight.
Hanna is last to leave. “May I stay a moment longer? There is something I need to discuss.”
I nod and gesture for her to sit by my side on the couch.
“You may not want to be reminded of the past week, but I feel I must tell about my experience in the dungeon.”
My mind becomes alert, even though my body is weary. “Go on.”
“It was so dark, that for many hours of the day I could not see anything at all.” For a moment, she sounds fragile. “The only thing I could do was talk to Ruahk. For hours at a time, I called out to him. Begged him to help me. To show me what I must do to prove my innocence.”
“Did you hear his voice?”
“Not with words . . . no.” Hanna’s voice grows stronger. “But in . . . I do not know how to describe it . . . in pictures? Knowledge? For instance, I knew I should open my mind up to one of the E
lders as I gave my testimony, so that they could see I told the truth.”
“A smart decision,” I agree. “My grandmother was very impressed. Did he show you anything else?”
Hanna takes a moment, as if trying to find the right words to explain what she’s thinking. “Over those many days in the darkness, I asked for some way I could help you, Your Majesty. I wanted Ruahk to show me something that I could give to you . . . that would help you in the war ahead.”
My skin prickles in the silence as I wait for her to tell me what she saw. “What is it? What did you see?”
“The thought that kept coming to me was that you will win . . . only after you have sacrificed everything, including your powers . . . and put your faith in Ruahk.”
“But how do I do that?”
“I do not know. But Ruahk will show you. I am sure of it.”
She may be sure, but I’m not. As tired as I am, I lay awake far into the night, praying for Ruahk to show me his plan. Until I know for sure what he wants, I will continue to train. I can think of no other way we can win unless I wield the Chrysaline’s power. When sleep finally comes, he has given me no new wisdom. I am left with only a growing fear that I will once again make the wrong decision.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Declarations
I continue to train over the next two days; hours of riding with Kyran so I become comfortable on a horse, no matter what our speed; how to carry a knife and give the killing thrust under a man’s ribcage. Every afternoon ends with more demonstrations of the Chrysaline’s power and my ability to wield it.
By sunset of the third day, even I am amazed at the things I can do with the Chrysaline’s help. Not only am I able to make water to douse a fire, but I can manipulate the water into ice bullets so sharp they slice through leather, or make it so hot it burns any exposed skin. The mood of the Elders and my generals grows more positive. Whatever demons Braedon has called from the abyss, my ability to wield Ruahk’s power through the Chrysaline has given them hope they can be defeated. If Braedon’s supernatural monsters are stopped, my army will be victorious over his mortal soldiers.
What I’m most grateful for, however, is that I’ve learned how to use the Chrysaline to heal whatever injuries I cause, with the same ease but none of the intensity I experienced when it healed me from the demon’s attack.
My ladies-in-waiting — my friends — keep me company when I return covered in sweat from training. The Joint Council may have amended the law so that I, as the queen, could fight, but they are allowing no other females in the army, at least at this point. Since none of them have the luxury of the Chrysaline, or the time to train properly, I don’t press the issue.
As Tamra helps me into something more formal for dinner, the girls entertain me with idle chitchat. They instinctively know I need the respite from talk of war. They have returned to studying with Simon. Even Siobhan now spends the afternoon with my secretary learning how to read and write. They tell me about their progress as we walk to the dining hall then down the aisle between two long wooden tables. My family waits at the head table, facing the room.
But not looking at me.
I slow my steps, casting a glance over all of them. None will meet my eyes. Turning my attention to the others in the hall, even Naill, the oldest of the Commoner Council and highest ranking officer of their army, avoids my gaze. I stop at his side. “Good evening, Naill.”
He bows his head. “Good evening, Your Majesty.”
“Is there news from our armies?”
He straightens his shoulders and looks at me, obviously relieved at my question. “No. We have heard nothing from our generals.”
Tension fills the hall. Tendrils of fear spark around me like static electricity. I step away from Naill, hoping to shake the feeling that he is lying. That no one will look at me because they are hiding something from me.
What news has he heard?
The voice is strong and distinct in my head, and clearly not from anyone in this room. I turn back. “Then what news have you heard? What are you afraid to tell me?”
Naill swallows as his eyes flicker to the head table.
“Don’t look to my father. Don’t look to anyone else for an answer.” Anger heats my face. I force my voice to steady. “I am your Queen. You will tell me what you know.”
His brows lift, as if surprised at the strength of my command. “Three women begged entrance to the palace today. From three different villages on the outskirts of the forest, northeast of Cyrene.”
“They obviously had news. What was it?”
“The Mystics are making Straw Men.”
Ivah and Bronwyn let out soft cries while anger flares in Hanna and Siobhan’s eyes. My imagination conjures up an army of supernatural scarecrows. In the world of Ayden, it wouldn’t be out of the question. “What are Straw Men?”
From the corner of my vision, I see Geran and Kyran coming down the aisle. Siobhan intercepts my father’s path so she can speak to me. “They are cages, my lady. Fifteen to fifty feet tall. The Mystics fill them with prisoners and—”
“Now is not the time to discuss this, Alystrine,” my father calls as he stomps toward me.
I ignore him and keep my attention on Siobhan. “They fill the cages and then what?”
“They light the prisoners on fire. A sacrifice to Aeron, their god of war.”
Geran puts a hand on my arm, but I shirk him off. “These prisoners. Are they soldiers they’ve captured?”
“They are women. Children.” Kyran stands next to Naill. “Those left behind in the villages while the men are training with the army.”
“Children?” My heart pounds. Angry and hard. “The Mystics are killing children?”
I can barely hear Naill’s answer over the roaring in my ears. “I have sent two divisions to protect the other border towns.”
“Will that be enough?”
“It will have to be,” my father says. “We cannot afford to lose any others when we may face the Mystics in battle at any moment.”
I struggle to push down my temper. “Why not bring the battle to them. Now. On the Plains of Sharne?”
I sense other soldiers in the dining hall agree with me, even if Naill and my father don’t.
“This is why I did not want you told now. You are too emotional.” Geran practically growls as he speaks. “Your counselors and I will discuss reprisals after dinner and then advise you.”
I mentally scream at him. My voice, however, is calm. “We will discuss this now.”
My father’s cheeks are red. “The dining hall is not the place.”
“Then let’s go to the Joint Assembly Hall. I’m sure Cook can reheat your food if it gets cold.” With that, I turn on my heels and march toward the door. Wooden chairs scrape against the stone floor as my counselors hurry to follow after me.
Kyran comes to my side. “Think with your head, Alystrine. Do not let Braedon tempt you to act too soon. Without thought.”
“He’s killing children!” My feet pound against the floor. “Why should we wait any longer?”
His voice is soft, but intense. “For one, you do not have your armor.”
My sharp laugh echoes off the stone walls as we turn the corner. “Really? You think, after everything you’ve seen me do with the Chrysaline that I’m going to wait for a piece of metal? Children are being burned alive.”
Kyran reaches toward the heavy wooden door to the Assembly Hall but I thrust it open with an angry push. My military advisors and Joint Assembly members make their way into the room as I take my place at the head of the table. When the door shuts behind the last man, I speak. “Give me one good reason why we should wait any longer to face the Mystics?”
“They have called the Fallen up from the abyss,” my father says. “We have to be sure you can wield enough of the Chrysaline’s power to defeat them.”
“Just another reason to face them now, not later. Each day gives them the opportunity to call up more.”
> “Most of the Commoners need more training.” Naill’s wrinkled hands clench into fists at his side. “Even another week could mean the difference between life and death for them.”
A vision comes to my mind, of young men like Tegan being torn apart by weapons of steel or the claws of demons. Could another week really prevent it? “What can be done to protect the women and children?”
Naill nods, as if he understands his argument is close to winning me over. “I have sent two divisions from the palace to patrol our border with the Duremeton Forest. And, on your orders, I will send word to Lord Cedric to move his men out. They will be instructed to help evacuate the remaining villages to safety up in the Sanctuary.”
“Do it.” I sink into my chair. “Send supplies to the Brothers, especially blankets and food. I want the children well cared for.”
I rest my head in my hands to try and quiet the pounding of my heart while the others take their seats around the table. My thoughts turn to the counsel Noam and Hanna gave me, and of Ruahk’s own words. I become aware of a presence near me . . . over me. When I raise my eyes, Kyran sits by my side, but it is not him I feel.
My ring sparks to life, only the glow of the Elderstone isn’t purple, but pure white. Energy fills me, not the earlier power brought on by my own selfish anger at the Mystic’s barbarity. This force is from outside myself but it is contained, for now, within me. Another gift from Ruahk. And yet, it would destroy everything around me if I commanded it. I also know, no matter what my counselors believe, the time to act is now. Whatever is happening in the spiritual realms has come to a head. Maybe the Mystics’ horrific sacrifices have succeeded in unleashing an evil that Ruahk cannot allow to exist.
“What is wrong?” Geran’s voice seems to call from the edge of a great canyon.
Most of my counselors stare at me with mild concern. My grandmother’s face, however, is radiant. Goram too, the head of the Brethren’s spiritual order, seems to understand that something supernatural has entered the room. Their eyes search the air for some physical manifestation of the power.