Chapter 29
The Mighty
Several days later, in another cafe on the high street of a town in a different part of the continent, Gwendolyn sat sipping tea. This time she sat cross legged at a low table on a mat of woven rice straw. She wore an ankle length robe with wide sleeves, secured with a wide belt, ornately knotted. The fabric was so fine the weave could not be seen with a subtle design that was almost iridescent.
She watched the affluent, and those who wished to be so, as they came and went, and interacted with each other. Outside the establishment were two very unusual horses. This caused a range of dramatic tension in those she observed. Curiosity in the novel pulled them one way, and deigning not to notice the unconventional pulled them another.
One horse was black as night, and struck sparks on the cobbled street as it stamped, eagerly watching its nose bag being prepared. The preparer drew almost as much attention. Her skin and hair were of a tone not normally seen in this area, and her eyes were a color never seen anywhere. One by one she poured several bottles of rice wine into the bag as the horse snorted black smoke.
The second horse was snow white. It stood placidly, but turned its head to stare at passers by directly and intelligently. That, and the large white wings folded over the colorful caparison on its sides was unusual and slightly unnerving. The rider wore a similarly patterned tabard over highly ornate ceremonial armor. The cast of his face was also slightly inhuman, though not of unusual coloration. He bowed formally to the proprietor of the shop. The worthy gentleman wrestled with the difficult decision between refusing service to someone so polite and perfectly mannered, or welcoming in someone who could easily bring complete ruin upon him. After a few paralyzed moments of indecision it became clear that this party was meeting with Gwendolyn. There was no question whatsoever about that being refused.
“Greetings, Coral”, said Gwendolyn, bidding him to sit.
“My lady, it is always my pleasure.” He sat, nervously, copying her posture. He glanced to the other tables and to his horse and companion in the street. “I think it's probably best if Desdemona looks after the horses.”
“And how do you find your companion?” asked Gwendolyn, giving a studied glance at the half demon. She was no harder to read than anyone else. It was clear she was raised human. Gwendolyn was more interested in how the interaction played out with her protégé.
Coral paused and composed his thoughts before speaking. “She comes highly recommended, and bears herself nobly. She rendered me assistance when I was in sore need without question. I am currently questing in return of that favor.”
“Calling in on a few old acquaintances of mine, I understand”, said Gwendolyn. After she walked away, she had never seen any of her comrades in arms again face to face. She had merely watched the results of their actions.
Coral laughed nervously, and twisted his placemat. “Yes”, he said, then stopped. “It’s...” he tried again. After a deep breath he said in a rush, “I kind of feel out of my league.”
“How so?” asked Gwendolyn. “You are Champion to the Queen of Romitu, whose ambition is to rule earth, heaven and beyond. You are retainer to me, who refused godhead. If it's not in your league, whose league is it in?”
He cocked his head to one side and looked out at Desdemona. “Yes. I know I shouldn't complain. I'm doing my best to rise to the occasion. And I don't even have the difficult part. Lady Desdemona's job is to do the talking. I just have to be the straight man, stoically representing the politely unspoken threat of Romitu.”
“And how have my old friends treated you?” she asked. This stirred her genuine interest. What remained of their original selves? What had the curse she refused to participate in left of them?
A server whisked past depositing a cup of fragrant tea in front of Coral. He leaped on it to calm his hands. “We were just at the court of the Sky Father”, said Coral. Gwendolyn nodded, familiarly. Coral shook his head. “Most of his pantheon was in attendance. It was fairly intimidating.” He looked up once again to Desdemona.
“She was intimidated most of her life”, said Gwendolyn, quietly. “When she made the right choice at a crucial juncture, and was shown respect for it, she was given the tools to never be intimidated again. You can see it in the way she stands.”
“Where I have been given respect most of my life”, said Coral. “And am finding it a bit hard when faced with the truly awesome and mighty.”
“Just remember they were once no more than me”, said Gwendolyn.
“With all due respect, my lady, you are pretty intimidating yourself”, said Coral.
“And yet you have the mettle to be in service to me”, she said.
“Yes”, nodded Coral. “I do. That is also hard. I shall remember that as we continue.”
“How have the negotiations gone?”
“We're not dead”, said Coral, grimly. “So I guess I'm more intimidating than I feel.” He sipped some tea. “It's mostly just posturing. Desdemona presents herself as a messenger, or a mediator. She makes the case for common ground. My presence is an indication that we're willing to listen, if they are willing to talk. But mostly they just shout.”
“Iowerth was always a blow-hard”, said Gwendolyn. “Sky Father”, she amended to his confused look. They had forgotten the names they were born with and let their supplicants name them. “I'm not surprised he's consort to Creiddylad. Hearth Mother, that is. She had a knack for 'interpreting' what he said in a more palatable way for people. And that's what you have to listen for. He doesn't think things through. She does. He can't go back on what he has said. But he can always claim that what she said is what he meant. He was one of the faction's leaders. Did he have an unexpected surprise for you?”
“Yes”, said Coral, a bit in awe. “First he made us listen to Harper sing a dirge for Romita, betrayed and slain by the Empire of the city she founded and was patron of. Much was made of her wandering confused and saddened in the Underworld. Then he intimated that he was about to order Grave Keeper to open his doors and release her, as she was unfairly and untimely sent there. The implication was that since he had judgment over life and death, even of the gods, killing them was not a threat. He could just bring her back as readily as we bring our slain back.”
Gwendolyn nodded. “An interesting counter. I take it Aeron, Grave Keeper, was not there?”
“No”, said Coral with relief.
“Aeron was always in the inner circle, but never got the prestigious jobs. He'll put up with abuse, but he's not a yes-man. I suspect he has a different opinion as to who holds the keys to death.” It was interesting to see their reflection in Coral's face. But she waved her hands dismissively. “I am indulging myself. It is good to give warning to the gods like this. But they will not be persuaded by this. The death of one or two of them will not bring them around.”
“How many have to die?” asked Coral, not wanting to hear the answer.
Gwendolyn ignored him and changed direction. “I have decided to take an action.”
Coral looked alarmed. “You? You will take up arms against the gods? But they won't remember you. Or do you intend to make an example of some of them?”
Gwendolyn shook her head. “I may yet. But not now. I have no direct fight with the gods. It was only the final act of the faction that I disagreed with. Our ambitions were noble up to that point. I took my way, and they took theirs.” She glanced at the various patrons in the room again, each still watching or not watching the horses outside. “My last enemy is unfathomably more powerful than me. And the only ally I might have is almost unfathomable.”
“You speak of the Ancients and the Grey Elves”, said Coral.
“I study the world and try to seek the patterns they speak of. But I am not illuminated. But I know that at least one of them has an interest in the affairs of Romitu. And, so, if I aid Romitu, that may aid him. And, maybe, I will be one step closer.”
“I know the Queen would accept any aid you saw fit t
o offer”, said Coral.
“I hear the trepidation in your tone”, said Gwendolyn. “Fear not. My action, for now, is a subtle one.” She handed a piece of parchment, folded in half, to Coral. “I ask you to take temporary leave of your quest. Just long enough to deliver this to the Queen's spymaster.”
Coral looked down at the paper in his hands like it was alive. “Just a piece of paper? What dread can this contain?”
“It is not sealed”, said Gwendolyn. “It will only have meaning to him. More than to me. I have merely observed something. I do not know its import. But I suspect it is, given the import that those observed seemed to hold it in. The spymaster will determine it on his own and be able to act on it.” Coral swallowed heavily. “You trust him, do you not?”
“Yes”, said Coral. “Against advice and better judgment. I think that he holds Romitu foremost in his motives. I only fear that his methods have put him so far beyond the rest that he lacks trust in all, and all in him and that will be our downfall.”
“Then let this be a test”, she said simply.
Red Queen Page 29