by R. J. Price
“Where's Anue?” Av asked.
Mie and Ervam stiffened, forks at varying distances from their mouths. Jer set a cup of tea at Av's side, drawing his attention once more. His brother was doing small things to keep Av focused on him instead of the others. Mie was too young, Ervam had already taken a beating. Jer was making certain that, should Av still be riding the edge, he was the one who was attacked.
“Resting,” Jer said. “She was given something by the healer to numb the pain and to make her sleep, just for yesterday. Today I'm to half the dose. If you have a problem with her pain being numbed, we can take the conversation outside.”
Jer said the last because of the change in the room. It took the younger man a moment to realize that the emotion wasn't coming from Av. As he had already dealt with the problem, it was Av's duty to distract from the actual cause of the emotion.
“Put her by the fireplace,” Av said. He turned his attention to Mie, as the boy had begun dancing in his seat once more. “What has gotten into you?”
Mie finished his mouthful of food before he said, “I slept a long time.”
Which meant Mie had more energy than normal. Av recalled being that age, remembered the bursts of energy and the times when he simply could not sit still. Ervam couldn't keep up with his children when they got into that mood and he had been younger than Av and Jer currently were. At times like those, the two boys would take off together on adventures through the woods. That was, once Ervam ran out of chores for them to do.
“Maybe we could go ice fishing,” Jer said. “Lake should be frozen enough not to crack under our weight while we fish.”
“We can do that?” Mie asked with wide eyes.
“Just have to shovel off the snow and then take the axe to the ice to get to the water,” Av said, taking up the line of thought because he saw the wisdom in the plan.
“Can I do that?” Mie gasped.
“With the dull axe,” Ervam said.
Mie and Jer suddenly found other things intently interesting. Av was very aware of how defeated his father sounded.
He had batted around a few guards before, and inserted himself into fights to end them and prevent a larger fight from starting. Ending fights was a part of what he was, part of what he had done as master while on palace grounds. But he had never done that on another person's territory, had certainly never taken down the one who owned the territory.
This was new ground for him, and he wasn't entirely certain what to do.
“Father's right,” Av said. He hesitated, then added, “In this instance.”
Jer had been moving around the table to set a cup of tea by Ervam. The younger man made eye contact with Av, the first one to do so since the day before. There was a keen understanding in Jer's eyes. He now knew, without announcing anything to Mie, that there had been a very specific reason why Av and Ervam had gotten into a fight. With the earlier emotions in the room at the mention of numbing pain, Jer was likely leaping to the proper conclusions.
All without Mie realizing what the adults were talking about.
There wasn't a doubt in Av's mind that the boy had bonded with Anue. Mie had laid a lifelong claim on the young queen. If Mie knew that his father was going to cause Anue pain for selfish reasons, there would be no end to the boy's anger.
“Better a broken leg, rather than a missing foot if one misses,” Jer said to Mie.
The boy was off the seat and headed for the door before Jer finished speaking. At the door, he began putting on his outerwear.
Av looked wearily at Jer, not wanting to go outside with Mie right then. They would take turns because they knew they couldn't leave that bundle of energy contained in the house, not with two injured folk inside.
There was no sympathy from Jer. His brother was punishing him for something that Av wasn't entirely certain about. Obviously it wasn't about the fight. Their kind fought—they fought with each other and other ranks. Of all the ranks, a trainer was more likely to have an even foothold at least.
The other possibility was his father.
“You'll be wanting something to numb that pain,” Av said to Ervam.
“I'm fine,” Ervam said through gritted teeth.
“You change your mind, just let me know,” Av said.
The fight continued, a little differently now. Ervam knew that Av could best him physically, but that still didn't mean that Av had won. If the pain didn't wear the trainer down, Av would have to take matters into his own hands. Either by broaching the subject and creating peace, or by forcing Ervam to surrender.
Av stood, regretting the motion as his body lost its nice, relaxed feeling. He turned to Mie, who was practically dancing by the door, and sighed.
“Go to the shed and get the shovel, clear off an area around the fire pit,” Av said.
“Fire!” Mie shouted, and was out the door without waiting for Av.
With another sigh, Av turned to Jer, who almost smiled at him. Now was not the time to be a smartass. They had a very long day ahead of them. Wearing out a warrior was not like wearing out a commoner child. Warriors would calm for a few hours, then the need to move would surge again.
“Anue can't be handling your temper right after waking from the sleep she's in,” Jer said.
A warning for Av to curb himself. He would be banned from the house until either Anue was stable, or Av was calmer. The queen wasn't likely to be stable until the pain stopped and that would be quite some time, even if the healing process had been sped up.
Av jabbed a finger at the door and made a confused sound.
“Once she's settled before the fire with Father to watch her, I'll come out and help,” Jer said. “It's probably best if Mie or I see her drink the tea and he's about to start climbing the walls.”
“Fine,” Av said. “I'll take first watch.”
He walked into the cold, not bothering with a coat. The winter morning was warm enough, and they'd be moving soon. That would be enough, at least for now.
Av knew he also had to be keenly aware of the temperature. Mie wouldn't feel the cold and if Av started moving, he wasn't likely to either. The boy had at least had enough thought to put on his coat. That would keep him warm. Av going without a coat would, hopefully, keep Av aware enough to pull Mie inside once the cold became too much.
Mie was standing on the porch, shovel in his hand. He gave Av a toothy grin.
The boy should have begun training years ago, even if it had only been in control of his instincts. His father had insisted on a normal childhood, that Mie should grow up without having to learn to fight with a stick, not until he was a young man. Ervam's thought had been that this was palace lands, Mie was palace blood. The boy should be raised according to their traditions.
Palace traditions be damned, Mie should have learned from the moment he realized what he was, taught how to do everything a warrior could do. Trying to teach a grown man how to control himself was much like trying to teach an adult to read. It was possible, but why cause such stress, when one could simply teach a child before they recalled how annoying it was?
“Have you been told the myths of warriors?” Av asked.
“Father said that if this was the north, I'd be learning how to control a blooding,” Mie said. The boy pressed his lips into a thin line, rocked back on his heels and watched Av. “Have you blooded a man?”
“I've drawn blood, but not done what Father calls blooding a man,” Av said, motioning towards the lake.
Mie bolted for the lake. Halfway there he realized that Av wasn't chasing after him, and he came back, sprinting to the porch.
“Has Jer blooded a man?” Mie asked.
“Blooding a man is personal, Mie,” Av said.
“Father's blooded a man,” Mie said. The boy rocked back on his heels again, peering at Av, just as he had a moment before.
Then he was off in a flash, headed for the edge of the lake. At the edge Mie spun, running back to Av, shovel still clutched in his hand. Av watched his little brother do this agai
n and frowned.
“What are you doing, Mie?” Av asked.
“Mother used to have me run laps,” Mie said. He rocked back on his heels, peering at Av.
Judging him, summing him up.
Mie wasn't just rocking back to make a motion, he was doing it to distract Av and give himself an opportunity to judge an adult. Which made Mie very, very dangerous. As a trained warrior, Av should have been able to pick up on the summing up the first time Mie had done it.
“Why did she do that?” Av asked.
“She couldn't keep up with me. Said sometimes warriors have more energy and that if I got like this when you were around, she'd throw me at you and see what happened, but I never climbed the walls when you were around before.”
“How long has this been going on?” Av asked, stepping off the porch.
“Is it wrong of her?” Mie asked. The boy went very still and lowered his head. “Was it wrong of her?”
“No, not wrong, I was asking how long you've been bouncing,” Av said.
His first time had been when he was ten. He had been training for years. It had been Av hitting that mood that had driven Jer into it, one warrior getting in a mood could bring another, if the pair of them were close enough.
Mie shrugged in response to the answer.
“I was ten,” Av said.
The boy looked up at Av, a deep frown creasing his brow. “Why ten?”
This time Av shrugged. “I suppose that'd be a question for Father. I get the feeling that it's linked to something else. My parents said that warriors typically showed at my age, showed like that at my age. Everyone knew we were warriors, but it's the start of instinct.”
“But I've always known I was a warrior,” Mie said.
“And I always knew I was a warrior,” Av said. “But I didn't start with those things until I was ten. You, however, are seven years old.”
“Almost eight!” Mie protested. “Though Mother had me doing laps almost since the time I could walk. I know because she used to tell me about how hard it was to catch me because I'd always seem to get moody when she had me half-washed after I went and rolled in the mud.”
“Was there holly and pine present?” Av asked.
“No, I know that feeling now, I'd recognize it again,” Mie said.
“Well,” Av hesitated, then continued, “I suppose all we can do is wear you out until Father's in a talkative mood.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“How are you feeling?” Rewel asked. “Danya has been down here nearly every day, says that you need extensive healing. Is that what it really is? Healing?”
“Danya has spent a great deal of her life alone,” Aren said.
She sat with her back against the chamber wall, one leg out and one up. A book was in her hand, one which explained what it was to be queen, to a commoner. The books on rank that Danya brought Aren were very good, and they helped her understand things. Not everything, of course, there were nuances that changed with each generation, but they did explain a great deal.
Like why she was drawn to water. The book said to watch for such women, who drifted while in thought to the wells and springs of a village. It said to protect them because a woman like this was a queen of a special sort, would bring good to the village no matter her behaviour to others.
It also explained, in a way, how a queen might channel her magic into one person, one item, or one link. It explained it to a commoner so that a commoner might explain it to a queen who had difficulties because such knowledge would draw a queen to one and gain her favour.
Aren had turned her magic towards the manacle, driving her magic into the metal itself. Moments later, Rewel had come into the chamber, likely wondering what the change was that he had felt in the land above.
She wasn't through the book yet, so much more knowledge waited at her fingertips. After this book Danya had promised to bring her the one on warriors. Perhaps that would help Aren understand the rank better, maybe even well enough that she could pick out a warrior when she looked one in the eyes.
Aren met Rewel's gaze, feeling unconcerned by the man. He was nothing to her, nothing to her magic and little more than a speck of dust in the eyes of the throne. The man needed to be brushed off and all Aren had to do was give a little flick of her magic.
She lost focus and the flow drove its way into the secondary link again. Aren sighed out, still making eye contact with Rewel.
“What?” Aren asked him with every ounce of arrogance she could manage.
“I said, she's spent her life with me,” Rewel said, stepping closer to Aren.
Her eyes wandered down his too-thin form, to his feet, then to the distance between herself and Rewel. Slowly, she did the same motion, but in reverse, meeting Rewel's eyes once more. She was rewarded when Rewel took a step back, moving away from the dangerous rank.
She didn't have to access her magic to create change in the environment around her. Everyone else was used to queens looking a certain way right before they started stabbing people, or melting them, or whatever else it was that queens were said to do. Her task was simply to give the impression that she was like everyone else.
“What good would a man like you be to a rank like her?” Aren asked.
“Excuse me?” Rewel asked in response.
Aren stood, setting the book to the side. She didn't want Rewel thinking that the book was all important to her, that she cared what was in it, or that it was for anything besides a way to idle away the time. As she approached Rewel, her body shifted between him and the book, but also between Rewel and her bed.
“A man like you will never breed a woman like that,” Aren said.
She stopped short, the manacle pulling at her wrist. She felt the pressure of the manacle on her wrist, but it was less than it had been before.
Each time Danya visited they talked about something from their pasts. Aren shared, then Danya shared. They got to know one another, but afterwards Danya would talk, tell stories about how others had handled being in their situation. Somehow it comforted Aren to know that she wasn't the only one. There were others like her throughout history who had led full, healthy lives.
“Why would I breed her, when I can breed you instead?” Rewel asked.
For a moment, Aren's strength faltered. Then she gathered up her fear and turned it into anger instead. She wrapped that anger, not into her magic, but around her thoughts. She straightened her back, put her nose in the air and tried as hard as she could to be seen as a queen.
“Try it,” Aren said.
They stared at one another. Rewel did not back down, didn't flinch. Aren tugged at the manacle, wanting to take that last step, wanting to tear the bastard's throat out and feel his hot blood splatter over her face.
How dare he threaten her.
“Not a good idea to try to get you with child at this time of year. The chill, especially down here, would strip you of the child before it took hold. Though, you might not even be capable of holding one.”
“What does that mean?” Aren asked.
“Your precious friend didn't tell you?” Rewel countered. The man smiled and stepped away from Aren. “You were pregnant. Lost the child by the time you came into my care.”
“I'm young, I'll have another.”
One night. One night she slept with Av. Or a couple of nights, all right, it had been a couple of nights. And more than once. Each night, it had been more than once each night, but how had she ended up pregnant so quickly? Had she shown any signs? How far along had she been?
What had the archivist said? Aren thought back to her time before him, with Url at her side. When she had asked about Av, about what the archivist had called him. Av was a true warrior, he would only breed more ranks, or his woman would appear barren.
Av had shared his bed with many women. None of them had ever had a child, none of them had ever had a mistake.
Yet after knowing Av intimately for only a little while, Aren had ended up pregnant.
&
nbsp; Only to lose the child on this wild goose chase the throne had sent her on. Was that part of the chase? Had the throne sent her out there knowing what was happening within her body, and what would happen to that body once she arrived?
Why? So that she wouldn't be pregnant?
Did she want to have a child?
“Have I disturbed you?” Rewel asked with a chuckle.
“You're disturbing me now; I'm trying to think,” Aren said.
“I can practically see smoke coming from your ears,” Rewel said. Again he chuckled.
Aren waved her hand to dismiss the man and turned away from him. Rewel could be lying to her, which meant that only one person could confirm or deny what he was saying. There had been no reason for Danya to bring up a failed pregnancy unless it had changed Aren in some way.
“Send Danya in,” Aren said to Rewel.
“In?” Rewel asked. “As if I'm some sort of servant?”
“As if this is a court,” Aren said to Rewel, spinning on the man. “I am a queen, you wanted a link like the throne. There are only two people around. You and her, which means you serve me, or you don't. One way or another, I rule.”
“You don't rule, you're chained up,” Rewel said, motioning to the manacle.
Aren drew in a breath and focused her mind, centred her mind. The magic drained out of her, leaving a frightening cold in its wake. Like all things, magic could not simply disappear. It filtered into the manacle, the only place it knew to go that Aren would agree to. As the magic trickled away, Rewel skittered away from her.
“What are you doing? Stop that! You'll destroy yourself!” Rewel shouted, coming back towards her.
“Send me Danya,” Aren said, breathing out and releasing her magic back to its natural places. “If you do not, I will do that, except I will drain this land of every drop of magic I have inadvertently given it and then I will drain it of everything.”
“Everything?” Rewel asked.
“You think that what happened to this village was done by someone strong?” Aren asked. “She had nothing compared to me. I will drag you into the other side with me and I will feed you to the darkest spirits I can find. Bring me Danya!”