Red Queen

by Jolie Jaquinta

  Chapter 18

  Paladins

  A light rain fell on a rough mesa overlooking a village. The edges of the hill were covered in vineyards but the top was windswept grasses. Dominating the space was the tri-form arch of a tactical gate. Whistles shrilled and officers gave loud directions to squads of soldiers who tumbled from the arches of the gate in squads as an army deployed through it. They snaked away, forming into platoons and were sent, double speed, in ordered directions.

  Through the low clouds Desdemona descended, her horse barely distinguishable from the dark swirls but the rider standing out sharply in her blue and white surcoat. Horns sounded from below and several archer units were directed towards her. She held both hands out to her sides, palms outwards. After a few tense encounters with Romitu soldiers, she had learned the signals they had been trained to accept as indicating a non-hostile. A harassed looking mage sailed up through the air, towards her. As the mage drew close, she recognized the rider and waved, giving a thumbs-up to the troops below and approaching less cautiously.

  “Desdemona, yes?” said the mage, holding her robes closely about her as they were tousled by the wind.

  “Yes”, said Desdemona. She looked at her quizzically. The Mage looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place her. Everyone who met her once always remembered her. Desdemona had gotten used to the disparity between who recognized her and who she recognized.

  “It's Miasma. We've met a few times, but I usually just kind of blend in. Oh, this might help!” She drew back her cloak and a very fat toad peered out from the backpack she was carrying.

  “Ah”, said Desdemona. There had been a short expedition, back when Demara was working for Scioni. She had been Demara's bodyguard and, this, Miasma, had been the squad's mage. “I remember you now. Ralph?” she asked, indicating the toad.

  “Yep. Bigger than ever.” She patted its head and he withdrew back to the pack.

  “I'm looking for Coral”, said Desdemona.

  “Oh!” said Miasma. “His tent is over there”, she said, pointing to one corner of the now cluttered compound. “The one with all the banners and the like. I'm not sure where he is, though. I just came in myself. The 9th army got an emergency deploy.”

  “Thank you”, said Desdemona. “I'll leave you to your duties.” Miasma waved, and sailed back down. Desdemona regretted the politics of Romitu. They were, for the most part, genuine and good people. Many accepted her without batting an eyelash. That was a rarity in her life. If things were otherwise, they would be pleasurable comrades in arms. Even friends. But things were not otherwise, and there was no point dwelling on it.

  She rode Cookie down after her Miasma, alighting near Coral's tent. The camp bustled with ordered chaos. The gate continued to disgorge soldiers who were being marched out as quickly as possible to make room in the relatively small camp.

  At a bit of a loss as to what to do, Desdemona tethered her horse and watched the commotion. She was mesmerized by the speed and quantity of people that moved through such a small opening so quickly. There had been large trade gates between the major cities. Part of the monumental work of the first Romitu empire. But the last one of those was build centuries ago. It was Scioni's arrival and first rise in politics that lead to the funding and research needed to work out how to build them again, to extend favored trade relations to newer cities. It was his own people to whom the work was contracted out to, and, using the knowledge gained, these tactical portable gates were created.

  She started as there was a sudden hue and cry in her direction, but quickly worked out that it was not directed at her, but beyond her. Low on the horizon a great winged horse flew heavily burdened. Some units paused in confusion, interest or cheering before being goaded back into order to avoid congestion. With great, labored wing beats the white horse drove directly down upon Desdemona. She dove to one side and came up, back against Cookie as the horse landed heavily, making the ground shake. A figure rolled off the back of the horse on to the ground next to her, blade out, pointed at her. “Who are you?” his voice said, hoarsely.

  “Desdemona, Knight of Grania”, she said, hands out to her side. “I seek Sir Coral Valkyr, Queen's Champion.”

  He rocked back, leaning against his horse. “But of course.” He sheathed his sword, and then clawed at his helmet straps. After a moment he had it off, and looked at her clearly, through sweat drenched hair. Desdemona had picked up a bucket of water and held it out to him. He laughed, lowly, and reached for it, still leaning against the horse. In one gesture he upended it over his head and handed it back to her. “Many thanks. If you could refill it for my horse?”

  She nodded and looked around for somewhere to fill it. Coral was bent over, resting arms on his legs, letting the water soak in and drawing great breaths. He looked up briefly and indicated a magical spigot to her. She cranked it and clear, cool water flowed. She filled it up and held it out to the horse, which drank greedily.

  Coral Valkyr was probably a rare exception. Someone that Desdemona knew more about by reputation than knew about her own reputation. He was a relative newcomer, having only served Scioni for a few months before he was killed. But his deeds distinguished him, especially in service to the new Queen. She didn't know if half of what she had heard of him was true. But it seemed enough to give the benefit of a doubt for.

  “I've come to ask a favor”, said Desdemona.

  Coral laughed, and hauled himself upright. “Right now is an extraordinarily bad time”, he said, working on some straps on the horse. “My Queen is besieged by enemy combatants. Alone. As her champion, I really need to attend to her.”

  “So why are you here?” asked Desdemona.

  With a great heave, Coral pulled down what was strapped to the horse's back, and lowered it, gently, to the ground. He pulled back the horse blanked that covered it and inside was a woman, eyes wide with fear, and two small whimpering children. “Because when the Queen gives you a direct order, you have to follow it.” He reached out to help the woman up but she scurried backward in terror. He took the bucket from Desdemona and tried again, holding it out to her.

  “Bread lady”, said one of the children, quietly, peeking from around her mother's cloak. She pointed past Coral to Desdemona, and her tabard. The woman let out a cry and flung herself past Coral and to Desdemona's feet. She and her children clutched Desdemona's legs, heaving great sobs.

  Coral raised her eyebrows and looked at Desdemona, surprised. “I guess I'm glad you happened along.”

  Desdemona crouched down to the woman. She didn't know her, but it was an easy guess that they had been a benefactor of her largess. Her fearsome looks hadn't deterred hungry people. “This man means you no harm”, she said, looking each of them in the eyes intently. She then looked over at Coral for confirmation.

  Coral bent down in his turn. “I have to go now. Stay next to this tent. Take what food, drink, or rest you need. You will be safe. No one will bother you. Do not leave until either I, or your husband return.”

  “My husband?” said the woman, unbelieving. “He's alive?”

  “Yes”, said Coral. “He works for us now. Getting you to safety was a condition of that employment. The Queen swore an oath to it.” He straightened up. “Now, that duty discharged, I must see to her safety.” Desdemona gave the woman's shoulders a reassuring squeeze. Then she stood up as well. Coral was putting his helmet back on and tightening his straps. “The situation is dire. My Queen is alone. And the enemies are thick about her. I could use all the help I can get.” He put one foot in the stirrup and turned to Desdemona and nodded towards Cookie. “Can that fly?” She nodded. “If you aid me now, I will do whatever favor you ask of me once the Queen is safe.”

  “My quest is important, but not urgent”, said Desdemona. “I will help you.” She was beginning to believe more than half the things said of this knight were true. To abandon the monarch he had sworn to protect in order to rescue peasants? Then, to agree to her request in return for service
without even asking what it was? This was clearly someone who took being an example seriously.

  Coral finished mounting, and Desdemona was not far behind him. They launched into the air and set out. Advancing troops looked to the pair of horses in the sky, one black, one white. Some cried out in salute, but most saved their energy for their march. As they advanced small knots of light enemy units could be seen. Not enough for a forced confrontation. Just enough to harry and delay their advance and try to winnow down the numbers.

  On the two knights flew, heedless of the arrows from the scouts. The day was darkening although it was still midafternoon. Coral pulled up short at one point, and stood high in his stirrups, looking for a point of reference. “I like this not”, he said. “I left the Queen surrounded by enemies. But they seem to have brought some foul magic to bear since.”

  “I smell demon on the air”, said Desdemona, equally disquieted.

  Coral looked sharply at her. “Demon? Are you sure?”

  “Very”, said Desdemona, flashing her smoldering eyes at him. “Trust me on this.” She started loosening up the straps on Seeker.

  “That's a notch lower than their usual elementals. But I should not be surprised. The Queen is bound to be in the thick of it. Can you lead us there?”

  Desdemona grinned with full pointed teeth. “That's what I do.”