Just One Knight

by Bridget Essex

  “Lellie,” I mutter as she sags to the side. I let go of Cinda, and I place an arm around her as she falls into me.

  “I’m all right. I’ve just got to try and concentrate before I can form a healing spell. I haven’t had time to gather the energy. We were…fairly busy,” she gasps, and I realize I’m touching where she’s terribly bruised. I try to hold her up and not hurt her.

  “Don’t the knights help each other…when they’re wounded?” I ask her. She nods a little, gritting her teeth.

  “We give each other the energy necessary for the healing magic. But you don’t have to do that, Talis—it exhausts you out.”

  “You’re my best friend,” I manage to tell her, and my voice is thick again with emotion. “Please, let me.”

  “Lellie…” Cinda murmurs, stepping forward. She takes my friend’s hand and squeezes gently as she smiles at the knight. “Talis may not be a knight, not truly. But she has the heart of one. Let her do this.”

  I stare at Cinda, and she looks to me, her smile soft and bright and beautiful.

  And then she winks.

  She said I had the heart of a knight.

  No matter what happens after this evening, no matter the trouble we’re about to get in, Cinda said that I had the heart of a knight.

  I feel like I could soar right now. And when Lellie nods, when she takes my hand and closes her eyes, and I can feel the energy start to leave me, it doesn’t feel as draining as I thought. Because though I’m exhausted—though I’ve had quite the long night—I’m full of love at this moment.

  And with love?

  Well, with love, you can do anything.

  After a long moment, Lellie stands upright, and though she winces a little, I can tell that her ribs have started to heal. She picks up her slightly ruined chest plate from the ground, dusts it off and nods to me with a lopsided smile.

  “I’ll make it through this. Thanks, Talis.”

  “What are friends for?” I ask her with a tired grin.

  The smaller portcullis starts to rise, and several of the Draco guards file out into the arena, fanning out toward us.

  “Here we go,” Tahlia mutters, then stands, feet hip-width apart and her hands on her hips. “Well?” she asks the closest guard, once she gets into earshot. “Where are we headed?”

  The guard seems a bit taken aback at the venom in my sister’s voice. “Uh…to Princess Fane? She said you won? She wants to commend you?”

  “Princess Fane?” I manage, and we’re all staring at the guard. She looks completely at a loss for words, and the other closest guard shakes her head, as if we’ve clearly been through battle, and our minds are quite a bit addled.

  “Princess Fane, the sister to Queen Ardyth, queen of all Bright Coast.”

  I turn to my sister, and I say, as blandly as possible: “where did you say you picked Fane up again?”

  Her cheeks are flaming red, and her jaw is hanging loosely as she stares at the guards. She snaps her mouth shut. “In a pub. She was sitting in a pub. We got to talking. We flirted. We made love. She became a friend. It was just…she was just Fane.”

  The guards sigh. “Princess Fane likes to travel the world, and she never goes about declaring who she is. She enjoys dressing as a ‘commoner.’” The guard rolls her eyes heavenward. “That’s our princess.” The words come out in hardly a flattering tone.

  We’re escorted through the dark corridors of the arena and ascend quite a few stairs until we emerge into the magelights of the Circ itself again.

  And there is the dais. And, upon the dais, seated upon the highly ornamented, gem-encrusted throne…

  Is Fane.

  She stands quickly when the guards usher us through, and then she’s waving the guards away. “My thanks,” she says quickly. “Please leave us.”

  The dais is in a sort-of box that’s separated from the other arena-goers, so it’s just us and Princess Fane, then.

  “Hello,” she says, and when she gives us a grin, it’s a bit abashed. “Uh…good job. On defeating the Cherufe.”

  There are a lot of things we could say in this moment, but Tahlia settles on: “you just disappeared.”

  “I couldn’t let the guards see me…I didn’t think they’d take you to the Circ. I thought they’d take you to the dungeons, which is where I went first…which is why I was late to here,” she sighs, adjusting the ill-fitting circlet on her head again with exasperation. “I’m sorry, I truly am—I never thought you’d be taken here, and I surely didn’t think you’d be pitted against the Cherufe. I tried to stop it as quickly as I could.”

  “Well…thank you,” I manage, and then I glance sidelong at Lellie, who nods to me. And Lellie and I flourish a bow and sink to one knee before her. “Your majesty.”

  “Oh, seriously, no. No, no, no, I can’t abide that. Please stand, you’re embarrassing me,” sighs Fane, waving her hands. “Please.” So Lellie and I both stand, and lift our chins, still not at ease as we look to the Draco…who was, apparently, royalty among us.

  “This has turned out to be an interesting evening,” says Tahlia, her mouth twitching at the edges as she tries to suppress a smile. “Does anyone want to hit up a tavern? I’m fairly parched. And I need a drink or two to steady my nerves after almost being eaten.”

  “Oh, thank the gods, I thought you’d never ask,” sighs Fane, tossing the circlet onto the seat of the ornamented throne, where it hits the velvet cushion with a dull thunk. “By the way…you get a reward. For defeating the Cherufe.” Her eyes are sparkling with amusement. “I assume I know what you’ll want?”

  Tahlia and I look from one to the other and say, at the same time, “our mother’s ring?”

  Fane nods. “I sent someone to go dig through the general’s horde, now that the door is unlocked. Uru won’t be too happy about the intrusion, but…eh. If she is sleeping with my sister, and if I don’t approve of her, there’s far worse I could do.” She gives an impish little grin, and then she slings an arm around Lellie’s shoulders. “Shall we, ladies?”

  We follow Fane and Lellie and Tahlia down through the Circ and out into the streets of Mount Verlit City. Far, far overhead there are stars twinkling brightly, and down below, here upon the streets, the magelamps glow above us, as bright as stars.

  Cinda leans on my shoulder, her warmth and softness grounding me here, to this moment. This lovely moment where we’re alive, we’re together, and we’re content.

  I thread my fingers through hers and squeeze her hand gently, tightly.

  “That worked out fairly well, didn’t it?” she grins up at me, and then she laughs, and the sound of her laughter lifts my heart. I laugh, too—I can’t help it, and then Tahlia glances back, and she’s giggling with us, and Lellie’s lips twitch up at the corners, too, and she’s laughing, her laughter sounding like bells in the night. Fane chuckles as she glances back at all of us, and then shakes her head.

  “So much can happen in one night, eh?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.

  “So much,” Cinda repeats, drawing me down for a sweet, long kiss.

  ---

  Would that the night could have gone on forever. But we are merely mortal, and after we close out the tavern, dawn edging the world with a golden halo of light, Fane helps us round up Rane and Cossie from the forest, and we are all sent through the palace’s portal, and, born by magic and with my mother’s ring in hand, we all stand on the streets of Arktos City once more.

  “I must to bed. I’ve never been more tired in my life!” says Lellie, placing the back of her hand against her mouth, but her yawn is huge anyway.

  “You’ve never been more tired?” says Rane, shaking her head, her mane flying. “This has been an exhausting night.”

  “I’m going to have to pay the late return fee for the donkey,” sighs Cinda, patting his spiky mane gingerly. Cossie puts his ears back, but not as deeply as he used to.

  A lot can change in one night.

  “It was good meeting you,” says Tahlia,
giving Cinda an embrace before she hugs me tightly, saluting me. “I’ll find you soon, sister. You keep the ring. For now.” And then, with a wink, she swings her hook over the edge of a roof and climbs up like a spider to disappear into the dawn.

  “If you tell me what stable he’s from, I’ll take your donkey back for you. I’d rather ride most of the way,” says Lellie helpfully, giving me and Cinda both a wink. Cinda tells her, and Cossie and Lellie go down the road. I don’t think I’ll ever get the oddness out of my head, the vision of the noble Lellie on the back of that adorable, tiny burro.

  And then it’s just me and Cinda and Rane. And, far outside of the city, far, far away, the sun rises over the edge of the world.

  And it’s a brand new day.

  But I don’t want it to be. Not yet.

  “Come back with me. To the stable,” I whisper into Cinda’s ear. “If you do…the night won’t end.”

  So she does.

  And when we’re wrapped up in one another again, my stolen armor at the foot of my small bed, the both of us nestled in each other’s arms, I know that the spirit of the night will never end.

  For love goes on and on.

  I kiss her, in the darkness of the room, and my heart is light.

  Chapter 20

  CINDA

  I wake up and I groan. My body is sore, sore in places I don’t think it’s ever been sore in. Deliciously sore.

  I sit upright, and I clutch the sheet to me. I blink as I glance about the place, and then I settle back upon the threadbare pillow with a wide, satisfied smile.

  I’m in Talis’s bed.

  Talis.

  Last night…

  I blink.

  Everything comes back to me in a rush, and I sit back up again with a gasp. I glance down at myself—I am currently as nude as an unfrosted cake. Drat. Where’s Talis? I get up, glancing at my clothes heaped by the edge of the bed, and I wrap the sheet around myself instead.

  There’s a trapdoor in the floor, and it’s open. I peer over the edge of the open door, and I’m surprised to see that the opening leads down into a horse’s stall.

  That…is not a sight I thought I’d see upon waking.

  It appears that this is Rane’s stall.

  And it appears that she’s currently in the act of giving birth.

  “Hello!” calls Talis, glancing up at me with a wide smile. “Come down—do you see the ladder there? I’d like you to meet someone.”

  I gingerly climb down the ladder, still wrapped up tightly in the sheet, and I stand, barefoot, at the very edge of the stall, staring at the scene before me.

  Rane, the mare, is standing, and her sweat-soaked sides are heaving, and she looks very, very tired…but also content. And she’s currently nuzzling a tiny, baby horse.

  And the foal?

  The foal has a tiny, tiny spiraling horn growing out of his little, fuzzy head.

  “Is that…” I blink. “Is that a unicorn baby horse?”

  “A unicorn foal,” Talis corrects me gently, her chest puffed up like she’s the proudest mother hen of the flock. “Yes, she is…apparently, Rane and a unicorn got together.”

  I blink. “I…didn’t think that was possible.”

  “With Rane, anything’s possible,” says Talis, affectionately patting the mare’s neck. “You did good, old girl. You did so good,” she croons to the horse, and then she turns and gives me her full attention.

  Talis scoops me up and twirls me in the air before wrapping her arms tightly around me, her hands cupping the back of my head with a soft, sweet gentleness, and she’s capturing my mouth. She kisses me long and deep, and it’s so good, so lovely, that my toes actually curl.

  We kiss for a long moment, until I forget that there’s anything outside of this kiss, outside of us.

  There’s a cough at the stall door.

  I blink, and then my blood runs cold. Wait a moment…I know that cough.

  I break away from Talis, and we both turn…

  And there, in the stall doorway…

  Is Asla.

  The knight who, up until yesterday afternoon, I was having a bit of a lovely dalliance with. The knight who, for vanity’s sake, broke up with me because I was a bit too fat for her to bed.

  I stare at her, and she stares at us, her eyes wide as she puts all the pieces together (my standing there in nothing but a sheet surely helps that calculation). And then a sneer comes over her gorgeous face. She tosses her hair over her shoulder, places an elbow languidly on the stall door.

  “I see that it didn’t take long to forget me,” she drawls, glancing from me to Talis. The sneer deepens. “But with my stablehand? I thought you liked knights, Cinda, but I guess anyone will do if you can’t have me.”

  It might be just my imagination, but it seems that storm clouds are congregating around my head, complete with tiny, angry flickers of lightning.

  “Asla,” I say, and the word is as cool as winter. “I don’t want you.”

  Asla blinks, but then goes on breezily, ignoring what I just said. “Talis, make sure you get me my polished armor by this afternoon. I want it shining enough to see my face in, is that understood?”

  “Yes,” Talis murmurs, her voice soft, tense.

  Rane stomps her back left leg, swishing her tail in annoyance, snaking her head and gnashing her teeth together.

  But Asla doesn’t let it go.

  “Yes…?” She trails off, her eyes narrowed, pinning Talis to the spot.

  “Yes, ma’am,” says Talis, gritting her teeth.

  “Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no,” I growl, and then I’m standing to my full height—which, admittedly, isn’t tall, and I’m wearing a sheet, but, damnit, no one deserves to be talked down to by Asla, most of all not Talis. “You listen to me, Asla,” I start, and then I take a deep breath. “No. Don’t listen to me. Because there’s absolutely nothing that can help you. You’re always going to be a silly, pretty, vain peacock, and you will never know if someone loves you for you, or because you’re a knight, because there’s no heart to you, Asla. You do not have the heart of a knight. But Talis? Talis does. And that’s why I love her.”

  Asla snorts. “Talis,” she sneers, through gritted teeth, “will never be a knight. Now will you, Talis?” Her tone is so mocking that, if those storm clouds were actually swirling around my head, there would be tiny bolts of lightning shooting at her at this point. “You come from a nothing family, and that’s what you’ll always be, a nothing—”

  “Asla?”

  Another knight stands in the stable corridor, and she’s staring at Asla with narrowed eyes. She has a noble manner to her, and a quiet strength. With bronze skin and straight, black hair, with subtly ornamented armor, I realize that I’m looking at the leader of the knights, and I stare at her. I’ve never seen Magel in person, but she’s known and beloved through all of Arktos City as a good and just leader of the knights.

  And she’s staring at Asla as one stares at a particularly unloved rodent.

  “Magel.” Asla pales, and takes a step backward.

  “We’re going to talk later,” says Magel, her voice low, containing multitudes. She takes a deep breath, and turns her gaze from Asla to Talis…and then there’s a softness that comes to her. And a smile.

  “Talis,” she murmurs, stepping forward. “Good work, helping Rane, that little foal is lovely…but I’m afraid I have to pull you from your duties right now. You’re wanted.”

  “Wanted?” Talis echoes.

  “You’re to have an audience,” says Magel, her mouth twitching upwards at the corners. “With Queen Calla.”

  We both stare at her. And then we look at one another.

  “Calla?” Talis repeats, and her voice cracks.

  “Yes, please—hurry, this way,” says Magel, stepping backward and motioning Talis to follow.

  “But, I…” Talis looks down, and I grimace—I didn’t quite realize, when she scooped me up and kissed me, that her clothing right now, after helping Rane give
birth…well, it’s not as clean as one would like.

  “I’m sorry, there’s no time to freshen up—there’s a very narrow window that Calla is available.” Magel can’t help but smile at Talis’s state, too. “And, you—you are?” asks Magel, glancing from Talis to me.

  I give her a curtsy, or my best approximation of one, being as I’m gripping the sheet as tightly as I can over my breasts…and being as I am only wearing a sheet. “I’m, um, Cinda, milady.”

  Magel chuckles, and shakes her head as she steps forward, unbolting Rane’s stall door. Asla seems to have disappeared into the woodwork—she’s completely vanished. “No need to call me ‘milady,’ milady. It’s lovely to meet you.” Magel does a flourishing bow after she lets herself into the stall, and she takes my hand and brushes her mouth over the back of it. “Now, do please hurry, Talis—it’s best not to keep a queen waiting.”

  We follow after Magel through the stable halls, and then into the halls of the palace. I do my best not to stare around me, and I do my best to forget that I’m wearing a sheet—I fail at both of these things, but not a single person in the palace seems to notice the state I’m in. Or, they do, but they’re too nice to stare.

  When we enter the throne room, however, my mouth falls open, and it’s all so regal and gorgeous, and there’s the queen, sitting on her throne, and I’m seeing the queen sitting on her throne, and I’m just clad in a sheet. As Talis and I approach the dais that the throne is set upon, Queen Calla stands and smiles down on both of us. There are other knights gathered around the throne, and my eyes glance over all of them in a heartbeat, but I can’t help but turn my gaze back to the queen. She’s so beautiful, in person—I’ve seen her give speeches, but I’ve never been this close up. She looks so kind and good, her face gentle and regal, her hair long and auburn and cascading over her shoulders and her bright green velvet dress.

  “Talis,” she says, and her voice is just as soft and gentle as she looks. I take a deep breath, and I glance sidelong at my lover. Talis looks as shocked as I do, but she’s trying not to show it. Talis bends in a deep bow, and I realize, just then, that I should be doing a curtsy, and I try, but the sheet is tangled in my feet, and I fall to the side a little, and Talis has to catch me, her arms warm around me.