Polymnia continued calmly, “My Protector, Hypatios Nykator, has indeed assembled a fine crop of warriors from whom you may choose to become your first Protector. It is time you assume your rightful place among the Hold Mistresses of these lands, that our people may benefit from your wisdom and abilities.”
Akantha seethed at this betrayal. “My mother must understand that I cannot in good conscience make a selection when one of the finest warriors in the land is unavailable,” she said through gritted teeth.
Her mother simply smiled and gave a slow tilt of her head as she made to reply, but she was cut off by her Protector. “It is unfortunate that Nikomedes is not here, but he made his choice,” Nykator said dismissively with a wave of his hand. “All warriors know the risks associated with an expedition into our harsh wilderness, and he knew it was possible that this would happen while he quests. You bring dishonor on yourself by hiding behind his absence, daughter-mine!” Nykator roared this last rebuke.
Akantha was in a rage by now, and completely unable to control her emotions. Her voice became like a serpent’s as she hissed, “I’m sorry to have disgraced my family in such a manner. Please accept my apology, as well as my promise to not bring further shame with my presence in the Great Hall!”
With that, she turned and stomped out of the hall, followed only by Leonora and Persus.
Chapter Two: The Bonds of Friendship
Akantha threw open the door to her chambers and marched into the room. Leonora was only two steps behind, and she closed the door much more gently than it had been opened, while Persus assumed his standard post out in the hallway.
“Am I so low!?” Akantha shouted at no one in particular. She grabbed a nearby clay pot and hurled it against the wall, finding great satisfaction in the sound it made when it struck the wall, as well as the sound of the pieces scattering across the stone floor of her chamber. “Everyone seems to know what is best for my life except for me!” She pulled the dagger from her belt and hacked into the wooden table on which the shattered pot had sat moments before, slicing and stabbing in a series of exaggerated, violent motions. After five or six hits, the tip of the blade became stuck in the wood and she had to stop her assault in order to retrieve the weapon.
“My lady,” began Leonora patiently, but Akantha cut her off.
“Don’t start, Lea,” she snapped, rounding to face Leonora. Akantha was obviously beyond reason, but she had forgotten about the dagger. Her eyes were as red as her cheeks, and if there were a pot of water on her head, it would likely be at a brisk boil by now. “I don’t need another person telling me what to do, or how to be!”
“You know I don’t judge your thoughts, my lady,” Leonora said calmly. “It’s not my place to do so and even if it were, I wouldn’t.” Leonora’s features were as calm as the surface of a summer lake, but her eyes were as hard as a thousand year old glacier.
Akantha reached for another pot to hurl, but paused before her fingers touched it’s clay surface. Her eyes narrowed and she turned slowly to Leonora. “So you would not judge my thoughts, but rather my actions? Is that what you’re saying, Lea?” Akantha could barely control her voice, she was so outraged.
Leonora’s eyes locked with Akantha’s and she held her gaze for a moment before tilting her head in acknowledgment. “As I have always known, my lady is wise,” the handmaiden said softly.
Akantha’s heart had slowed only slightly, but thoughts of further pottery and furniture deconstruction had left her head. “Go on then, Lea. How do you find my actions wanting? Please, I invite your learned judgment,” she spat as venomously as she could.
Leonora was unfazed, and began to slowly walk into the room past Akantha, toward the simple bench next to the window. Akantha remained exactly where she had been, furious at the thought of her best friend failing to offer any kind of solace in this, one of her most difficult moments.
“My lady has known for years that this day would come. Your mother has supported you at every turn in the past and she was right to do so, just like she is right today. It is time for you to take your place among the Hold Mistresses and establish your own claim on these lands.” She sat down on the wooden bench before continuing, “You cannot do that without a capable Protector,” Leonora said coolly. “The World of Men is not a kind or forgiving place, and even with the best warriors and the most capable leadership, most Citadels fail to survive their first decade.”
“You think I need you to tell me that, Lea?” Akantha interrupted. “Really, I had expected more of your proffered wisdom than this,” she spat.
Leonora continued in the same calm tone with which she had begun. “Your sisters-“
“Half-sisters,” Akantha corrected abruptly.
Leonora cocked her head for a moment. “What do you mean by that?”
Akantha opened her mouth to say something hot, but she stopped herself. Her shoulders slumped a little and she turned to the bench on which Leonora was sitting. “I don’t know, Lea. They’re my sisters, even if Hypatios Nykator is their father.” She sighed and began walking toward the window. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have insulted you just now,” she apologized before sitting down on the end of the bench opposite from her friend.
Leonora smiled, and Akantha found herself once again jealous of her best friend’s appearance. The freckles which covered Leonora’s face, the curly dark red hair which seemed to be always bouncing, and her not particularly striking features combined to present a very plain, simple looking girl of average height and build. But appearances were deceiving, as Leonora was stronger than average and possessed tremendous reflexes which Akantha had also envied since she was a young girl.
Akantha, on the other hand, had straight blonde hair, blue eyes and skin that looked as white as Stone Rhino tusk under the winter sun. She was taller than average, and her frame was more than proportional for her height. But Akantha would never be confused with a man, which was also a burden at times. It seemed that any proper-fitting clothing accentuated features she sometimes wished she could hide, prompting cowardly whispers about her future child-bearing prospects. She hated the attention her appearance often brought, but she knew that such attention was also at least in part due to her station in Argos’ society.
But being judged on her appearance, and being told how she ought to fit into society had always struck a rebellious bone somewhere deep within her. She knew that she was capable, and she knew the responsibilities she was destined to bear. Akantha didn’t recoil from those responsibilities in the least; in fact, they were the only good thing about being born into the life her mother had given her. She couldn’t wait for the opportunity to take her place among the leaders of the world and prove herself to be just as capable as her ancestors.
“It’s all right, my lady,” Leonora replied, still wearing her sweet smile. “This has been a stressful day, and from the look of things tomorrow’s not going to be any easier.”
Akantha nodded her head and forced a laugh. “No, I don’t think it will be.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she looked out the window, seeing the Argos Citadel in all its splendor.
Every rival Hold Mistress was envious of Argos for its geographic location, which provided consistent water for the surrounding farmland through a series of streams and small rivers, and the Hold was afforded a strong defensible position at every possible approach.
The terrain was conducive to growing grains in the summer, and there were even some grasses which managed to survive deep into the winter, allowing Argos to maintain a much larger quantity of livestock than her neighbors, making all forms of industry and agriculture more productive than they might otherwise be.
Argos had seen her share of wars in the past, but under the rule of Polymnia Zosime and the protection of Hypatios Nykator, no conflict had ever really threatened the safety of the Hold. The people were strong and hard workers, applying themselves even more diligently to their daily labors as a result of the high degree of security afforded
them by their leadership.
And that was what House Zosime owed her people: strong leadership and sage guidance. Without Zosime’s rule, Argos’ enemies would descend upon her like a plague and destroy everything the Argosians had worked so hard to achieve.
“Why should I have to choose from among Nykator’s men? It’s not fair!” Akantha blurted before thinking. She really wished she could gain better control of her tongue at times.
Leonora nodded, sympathy crossing over her features for a moment. “You’re right, it’s not fair.”
“Then why?!” Akantha continued, forcing the impulse to smash the glass window with her fist to pass harmlessly into and out of her mind.
“Because it is tradition,” Leonora said simply. “Because it is what the people need from you.”
“The people need for me to accept one of those sycophantic, self-serving animals as my most trusted companion and ally?” Akantha said sharply, but she took a breath to calm herself before she got too hot under the collar. “What are you saying, Lea? I am sure I don’t yet have your full meaning.”
Leonora smiled again, this time with a flicker of fire in her eyes. “The people need for you to be strong, and to make the best choice you can, given the circumstances. Life is not about doing what is best; it’s about doing the best you can with what you have.”
“So you’re saying I should allow Uncle Nykator to choose my Protector for me?” Akantha snapped.
“No, my lady. I am saying that if you want to be the leader your people need you to be, you must do the best you can with what is available to you,” Leonora reiterated smoothly. “And you must let the people see you do so.”
Akantha thought about this for a moment before clenching her fist and beating it gently against the window sill. “Am I nothing more than a piece in a game, or a trophy for one of those self-absorbed men who fancies himself a hunter closing in for the kill?” Her teeth were gritted, but she was losing the fire with which she had entered the room.
Leonora found Akantha’s gaze and held it for awhile before quirking her lips. “A piece in a game, most certainly. But…” the freckle-faced lady in waiting paused and then giggled.
“But what?” Akantha asked shortly, her patience wearing thin.
“Akantha…you’re the hunter,” said her closest friend in the world.
Chapter Three: Whispers in the Dark
All of the denizens of the Great Hall had retired shortly after nightfall, so the hallways and corridors were peaceful and quiet, as even the night guards seemed to appreciate the sense of serenity which can only be found in dark silence.
Akantha had been unable to sleep, even after the talk with Leonora which had brought about its usual calming effect. So she had decided to go for a walk in the Shield Hall since it was thankfully empty of people at this time of night. She desperately needed to find an answer to the question of how to get out of this mess.
She was still furious with her mother for what she considered an open betrayal, but she thought she understood her Hold Mistresses reasons more clearly after speaking with Leonora. At the time it had seemed to be nothing short of out-and-out betrayal, but Akantha knew that there was wisdom in all of her mother’s actions, and she also knew that her mother wanted what was best for her.
Her bodyguard Persus accompanied her as always. He kept behind her a few steps as they made their way through the corridor toward the Shield Hall, as was protocol. He had been another stabilizing force in Akantha’s life and she had come to value his council when he offered it, which was a rare occurrence.
The standards and banners of the various clans of Argos were displayed in the traditional fashion across the walls and rafters, and even the light from Akantha’s candle was enough to make out their many colors and patterns.
Persus kept his distance, and was careful to avoid looking into the small flame Akantha held in her hands, as doing so would temporarily hinder his vision in the darkness. During the day, torches and sconces lining the room filled it with as much light as was required for the day’s events, but at night the fires were put out to avoid wasting resources.
Akantha eventually found herself standing at the dais where the High Chairs were, and she stopped for a moment to consider what they represented. At that moment, she felt she understood the weight of leadership better than she ever had, even though her entire life had been spent in preparation for ascension to the same rank her mother held. The endless lectures on history, agriculture, engineering and commerce had given her all the knowledge she would need to lead her people in their daily struggles for as many years as she was able. And her experience in the Great Hall of her mother’s people had given her more political savvy she had ever wanted.
She stood there in quiet thought for a few moments before her ears picked up on an unusual murmur of conversation coming from one of the adjoining dining halls. It was very faint, which was why it even registered to her as unusual. It was not entirely uncommon for people to walk about in the middle of the night, but there was rarely a need to keep one’s voice quiet since the sleeping quarters were located far enough away as to not disturb those who rested.
She signaled Persus and he nodded, confirming that he had also heard the conversation, but he shrugged his shoulders as if to say he didn’t know who it was or what they were talking about.
Akantha quietly removed her feet from the slippers she wore so as not to make as much noise and doused the candle with a quick puff of air. She then padded barefoot toward the dining hall until she could see a flicker of candlelight coming from within. Akantha was almost immediately certain she recognized the slightly cracking voice of the old advisor Nazoraios. She continued approaching until she was also able to recognize the voice of Uncle Nykator.
“My Lord has ever demonstrated the utmost wisdom and cunning, both on the battlefield and in the Great Hall,” came the voice of Nazoraios, and his sycophantic platitudes were almost enough to make Akantha snort out loud, but she reined in her impulse to do so.
“Your simpering has a place in public, Nazoraios,” said Nykator condescendingly. “But I know what I have done as well as what I have yet to do, and the self-serving words of an old man are not why I agreed to meet you here. Be quick with your offering, lest I lose patience with you.”
“Forgive me, Lord,” Nazoraios said after a short pause, “it was not my intention to offend, and as always I will do my utmost to avoid wasting your time. To be blunt, I have asked you here, in secret, because I have seen a peculiar star this night, and I believe its meaning cannot be misinterpreted.”
“You brought me from my bedchambers to talk of stars?” Uncle Nykator began coldly. “Old man, you have proven a useful resource in the past, but in recent months I find your council to be increasingly less valuable. Are you so desperate to maintain your position at court that you would speak to me of prophecies scrawled a thousand years ago in the entrails of diseased livestock?” he continued, his hissing voice accompanied by the sound of a small blade being unsheathed.
“I am neither sick, nor feeble,” Nazoraios countered sharply. “My name is listed on the battle roster, and I can still carry a blade into battle. In my younger days, I served in the front lines and earned my honors through combat with the enemy! To draw a blade on an unarmed man sworn to your cause-“
There was the sound of a scuffle, followed by a muffled cry.
“Your days of renown are not only gone, but long gone,” Nykator growled coldly. “Say something which holds my interest, or I will cut your meandering tongue from your serpent’s mouth!”
“My Lord, you may of course do with me as you see fit,” Nazoraios quickly replied, his voice little more than a dry croak, suggesting Nykator had him by the throat. “My life has been sworn to yours for longer than even I can recall, and if its best purpose is for you to snuff it out to satisfy your honor, then place a blade in my hand and we can settle this as men. However,” he quickly added, “I would ask that you hear out the ramblings
of this old warrior one last time, before striking the blow which sends me to my grave.”
There was a silent pause, and for a moment Akantha was tempted to get close enough to actually see the scene, but caution won out and she remained quiet and still.
“Out with it then, Nazoraios,” Nykator growled.
Nazoraios made a slight choking sound as he caught his breath, but quickly continued. “The star I have seen is the same one that has been reported at various times in our history. It moves sluggishly against the natural path of the falling stars, and it burns with a green light.” Nazoraios paused, took a deep breath and continued in a quieter voice. “Not only did its course and color demand attention, but it clearly slowed as it approached the ground in the direction of the western farm holds. In fact, I believe it fully stopped just before the foot of the mountain which buttresses that edge of our territory.”
Nykator breathed in, a deep hissing sound. The conversation paused for several seconds, and Akantha’s mind raced with the meaning of what Nazoraios said.
“Is there any doubt?” Nykator asked evenly. “Be careful with your next words, Nazoraios. They will decide much of your future.”
“There can be no doubt, my Lord,” Nazoraios quickly replied. “The Sky Demons have returned.”
Akantha felt a lump in her throat. Sky Demons? she thought. She had heard stories of them when she was a little girl, but had come to believe they were nothing more than stories or fanciful tales meant to give people boundaries in their lives. If they were real, and if they truly were here, then it would give every soothsayer and self-professed prophet ample excuse to declare these days to be the end times, when all people would be returned to the Stars of Men.
“Name of Men,” Nykator cursed. “How long ago did you last see the star?”
Admiral's Lady: Eyes of Ice, Heart of Fire Page 2