Fallen Warrior (Fallen Trilogy book 3)

by Williams, Tess

  "Do you want to go straight on in to the Keep?" Cole asked. "Because it's this way."

  He'd curved Minstrel's black ivoronsu, a little off towards the left, past two large trees, and I smiled, for him already behaving as if he should know it better than me, where the entrance to my keep might be, after only having come once. "I know that, Cole. I mean to go somewhere else first. But only for a little more on the horses, then on foot, then you'll have to wait, alright?"

  "Wait, without you," he followed, but not without turning his ivoronsu around to come up beside me. "Do you mean to see the old ruins then?"

  I looked over at him, still moving onwards on Fauna.

  "Did you see them when you came?"

  He nodded. "You asked me about that already remember? You wanted to know if they were still in... the same sort of disrepair, I suppose you would put it."

  "And they were? I suppose that's a funny thing to ask about ruins...."

  "You wanted to know about the rocks, whether they were still there. The ones that sparkled."

  "I asked about all that?"

  He nodded.

  "Oh, yes, since I was surprised then, that you had tried your hand at breaking them yourself." I laughed lightly. "I think it was then, to some great degree, Cole, which I was sure you would not be like others had been."

  I didn't add more than this. Since I didn't want to begin to talk about Cole and myself; I didn't even want to speak of Yanartas any longer. I was fiddling with the figurine in my pocket, of Cyric's, and coming to a halt, I only let it go to dismount Fauna, then move to attach her to a tree, but instead I wrapped her reigns about her saddle. "I'll not tie them up. I think they'll be alright."

  "I don't know where you're going," Cole said. Having dismounted himself, and in this plain way that made it seem as if he thought he should.

  "You can walk with me a little longer. Even though, I don't think that there will be any wild animals I couldn't handle."

  "You're very humorous, princess," Cole said, setting his own ivoronsu of Minstrels' free without much care at all, then nearly tripping on to follow after my slow pace. "Always, it seems, when I'm most distressed."

  "I'm sorry, Cole." But that was all I could think to say. Then I had my hands locked within each other behind my back, and I was stepping carefully forward, breathing deep. And when we came just where I recognized things right, I told Cole that he would have to wait. And he did not like it. But that did not matter to me.

  CYRIC:

  I realized where it was, only after she'd walked off. She'd been kind enough, at least, not to leave me too far out of sight of her. I was at the edge of a hill, and she was down a length of it, and when she stopped, so many yards off from me that she was only a willowy picture of herself, her hands folded in front of her, and her hair braided back, but everything else better detailed by my own engrained memory of her. Only once she'd stopped there, and then faced sideways, and then knelt down, had I realized where she was. And that had taken the breath out of me. So much so, that I'd not only clapped against the tree there behind me, but also I had sunk down to the ground, discarding the one bag I'd carried on, putting my hands to my head, and for all the world looking not as one who could have been affected as Cole from Kanth should have been by seeing this. But I did not look away from her, and she did not look back my way, and none of anyone else was watching.

  She was at my father's grave. She was at that place where I had waited on a hill, sitting and watching for hours while they'd dug for and buried him, beneath snow, after that hanging of his. He'd been the only one that day. But of course, he had, since hangings were something so utterly rare in Shaundakul (wasn't that a mark of a great country in and of itself?). As rare as murderers. And that, rare enough to make his and mine, both our names famous as a curse. Dracla. Dracla. But here was this princess, of Shaundakul, and she was standing there, before it—as her first task back in her homeland after all that time.

  I couldn't think past my head or the sight. I watched her with the sunlight streaming down only in the highest branches, and not really reaching her. I watched her kneeling as she was. I watched her put her hands together. It was the same thing she'd done in the granted temple, in Byako, that first time I'd seen her as Cole.

  She had something in her hands, but she took it then set it there on the grave. A flower? A stone? I could not tell, and I could not hear her, though I saw her lips were moving.

  She did not look angry. She looked the way she had... staring off at the horizon, that day she'd fallen from the walls of Akadia. When I'd run down after her, and I'd let her go, and held her crown, hoping she'd look back, because then she'd know I needed her, even though I wouldn't say it. And also being glad that she was gone, since it meant I couldn't ruin her any longer.

  But that way, she'd looked out and seen some hopefulness beyond what I could see then, she looked now. And I couldn't do anything but watch it. And only just before she had returned had I risen to my feet.

  #

  "So, that was where the market had been?" I asked, gesturing down a long empty black thing. Only for the torch in my hand, could I see two feet in front of us. Otherwise, it was classic, Uldin Keep. This lowest level, with the ceiling which resembled to me a night sky, it was there above us. And then all these rows of stone buildings, and stone streets, which had been, in the time of my living on (or wandering on) them well-warmed with fires within and without, but now they were hollow, and freezing blackness.

  "Er, yes, that's... I think that's right," she said. "The, um... gem market I think."

  I think. —while she stepped on, not very assuredly. The marking through these streets, had been very much like sorting through those documents about Lox and Akadia with her. All of it I knew. What she knew, she was sure, but only half -right about, and it was more than fairly easy to convince her that what I knew about it, had been her opinion of knowing to begin with. So that when we passed a square or another, or a strange collection of houses or another, a well-placed question, or comment, or two, meant that she was telling me everything there was to know about it.

  And I liked the sound of her voice—so it worked well.

  "What's that place?" I asked, pointing to a tall building at the corner.

  "Oh, I know that," she said swiftly. "I know that..." She looked it up and down, biting her lip. I watched her, then said, without looking at it, "Look, there's a sign there, with a flagon on it."

  "Oh, yes, that's the inn," she spoke. "It's called the dragon's flagon or something like that. I went there... well.... not so very many..."

  "A princess, to an inn?"

  "A princess to the inn of Genbu and Echren."

  "A princess not to the dragon's flagon."

  "Oh, look, but I didn't know I'd invited Minstrel here with me to Uldin keep."

  Without pausing a step, I stretched the torch up and shouted for all the bats to hear. "Uldin Keep, Uldin keep, how she makes her people weep. For she's gotten very cold, all the while they've gotten old. And her princess meant to bring, a protector to its wings. But instead she brought a minstrel. Who can hardly... sing a..."

  "You've sung yourself into a corner," she chided. "Nothing rhymes with minstrel, and the rest was horrible."

  "No, wait I've got it. It's there."

  "Just on the tip of your tongue? Try, instead... 'But instead she's brought a Minstrel, who quite often plays a fool.'"

  "Carol!" I announced. "A carol. You know of those? Everyone does. You've brought a minstrel, who can hardly sing a carol."

  "Cole —Minstrel told me of men who think they might be great at barding, but then they're not. It's a sad thing."

  "Barding isn't a word, I don't think..."

  "Never mind about that. Just don't attempt to rhyme with it, and I'll be glad."

  A bat, flew above our heads, from the blackness, just when I was meaning to say something amazingly impressive next. And then it's squeaking called the roar of some sort of large cat, from another
place off in the chamber. All this amounted to, truly, as it mattered in Cyric-land, was that Ellia first ducked, then jerked sideways, just into Cyric. And my torch was up high, so she pressed just to my body, and she didn't move, glancing into the darkness, until I spoke.

  "Mountain lion."

  "What?" She turned quick to look back at me.

  "I think there's a pack of them."

  She winced, sucked in, and frowned all at once. "Will they stay?"

  "They were here last time I was," I answered with a shrug.

  Her frown turned dismal. I didn't mind the whole of the thing.

  "Not so sorry you brought me now are you?" I said.

  Quicker than I should have guessed, her frown turned to a scowl. She was carrying a pack of her own, as I was, and though I'd offered to carry it, she'd refused, making me wonder what it might contain, but only a while. Now she moved that up higher to her shoulder and said, "Let's just get on to the higher levels. I have a hard time imagining that they would have braved desecrating that."

  "Certainly not, in the very least, the princess' quarters," I put in, making her scowl all over again, before leading on.

  But I'd said that, really, to increase the chances of her meaning to head there at some point. It was the place I hadn't gone when I'd returned last on my own. It was the place I wished I had. It was the place I wanted to go to with her now, and probably not for any ulterior reason—though a part of me may have subconsciously identified being near to her, with being there in her tower—for we'd never been closer than we had been there. And I did mean that in every sense of the word, seeing as I'd slept beside her there in her bed as a child.

  But we did not go to her tower next. That position was left to the great hall. It had not become a den for wolves or something else as I'd feared. Maybe because it was smaller, so much smaller even than the throne-room in Akadia, that they didn't think it worth it. And there were those number of spiraling steps, and hallways, and chambers to pass—all of these, as we did, robbed of their ornaments their candlesticks and torches, their tapestries.

  "Did you see that blue tapestry of the dragon?" Ellia said to me. Now standing there beside me at the entrance of the great hall. I'd been staring at the places along the sides, where the tables had used to sit during banquets. I'd been staring at that place she'd used to sit. I'd been remembering the way she'd stared, begging me with her eyes to ask her to dance.

  Ellia had been looking, I only saw now, to the head of the chamber—where the wall was black silver stone.

  "The one in Lox's war room," I followed solemnly.

  "You did see it? I thought it might have been knocked down before you came."

  I frowned. Now that I thought of it, I wasn't sure whether it had been or not. It must have, I thought, for the glass had been broken for me to move through—but so much of that battle I did not remember clearly. It was worth mentioning, I must have, at the least, walked straight on towards Ellia without seeing Lox there, that first time —and could that really have been chocked full up to my night-blindness? I knew one thing,... in this space—unlike the tight stairways—the single-torch was not enough to give me a view of everything. I could hardly see that empty wall she watched apart from memory.

  "It was blue with the silver dragon," I went on. "I saw it. I thought it was from Shaundakul the first moment I did." And this was not a lie, though it still put a knot in my gut as Ellia stepped forward.

  In any way that mattered, she might have been wearing a dress. Maybe it was that floor that was familiar to her, or maybe it was my imagination, but I was sure, her movements became more graceful, more well-placed, as she walked across. It was the simplest thing to imagine taking her hands and dancing with her there. But that was the last thing I would have done now.

  She turned around to look at me. And her eyes were glowing for the torch. "This was where we had our banquets."

  I gave a weak smile. I could tell by now that she noticed the difference of when I smiled or didn't, so I did it for her sake, and not very much for mine—though I did like to see her set down her bag, then stretch her arms out to the sides, testing the air then smiling. "And our dances—this was where we held my birthdays," she added quickly. And the words were so much on top of one another, and her expression so suddenly concerned, that I thought it was for the mention of dancing, that she wished she hadn't—or spread her arms out—so that I might not try anything for myself.

  To reassure her, I kept a firm grip on the torch, and only moved along the sides of the chamber, towards that place where tables for the battle had been set, but slowly, and still watching her. "Were they grand events, princess?"

  "I'm a princess, Cole. So of course they were. And not just that. But a princess of Princesses."

  I laughed. "If you add any beliefs or lore to Shaundakul, why not add that title for yourself? You could give me credit, and make a sort of plaque to go above your throne?"

  "It shouldn't be offensive at all—when other rulers came to visit."

  I shrugged.

  "Plaques will be the last thing, I could be spending my time for, anyways," Ellia said, slowly turning, looking around, while I kept on along the edge.

  "That's why you'll make a good ruler, Ellia."

  She gave me a face.

  "...Because I've thought of others things for them," I went on fluidly. "Savior of Akadia. Defeater of Lox—or the evil one, as Minstrel would say: Defeater of the evil one. Finder of the lost golden dragons."

  "The first I don't deserve, the second two, you own better than I."

  I made a scoffing sound, then asked, "What will you do then, first? Will you have a banquet here? If you bring your people back... will we have a dance?" I stopped finally, at the front corner of the chamber. She was still there in the middle; I can't have been terrifying her about the possibility of my twirling her about, here so far off. And she reflected this, folding her hands first, then taking a few steps, towards me, looking around, taking two more steps, towards the front.

  "I suppose."

  "Have you spoken to Lucian? Have you thought whether the spoils of Shaundakul might still be there to be returned?"

  "Much of it was melted down," she answered. "I suppose it will be like you said of those unprivileged animals. If any return to Akadia.... they will not be blessed with much. We will have to work hard. It is not as if there is much land for building wealth, or fair access to it."

  "There are things to be built, if you like," I offered. "Pulleys and ropes, like in Yanartas, or lifts, or things even quicker, as they have in Akadia. We could build them."

  Ellia faced me, not smiling, but looking very contented. "You're so wise about the best approaches Cole. And here when I'd already been wondering over how we might return fine dresses and tunics to the people. Do you think you really would like to be an advisor?"

  "Well, fine clothes, aren't to be neglected," I told her, "for one. Having something beautiful to look at isn't a thing to be underestimating, for keeping up spirits."

  "How very like you to say, Cole."

  I bowed quick, her still walking towards me, then went on, "As for advising, I can advise, at least, about building things, since I've learned something of it. And if you need someone to work..." she was very close now, so that I only had to look down the short steps and hardly call out, "I can plant and dig and toil and all that."

  "You mention toiling as if it's the most menial thing."

  "I guess I've been more privileged then I thought. I never really considered that I might be doing farm-work.... But now I can't see how I could ask all of everyone else to do it, and not begin myself."

  She frowned, but not sadly, still with her hands folded, but behind her now. "Cole, you speak as if it's you who's responsible for the people here."

  I didn't answer her. I thought of Minstrel, and what he'd said about the one who killed Lox, needing to be, the one who was the protector of Shaundakul. Or, he'd said that would be the best outcome, the way he
would have written it, and that Cyric would have been that person. And so I had, killed him. So did that make me the protector of Shaundakul, like in Minstrel's tale? I wasn't sure. I only knew, when I thought of people coming back here, to try and help the Keep to come alive and well again, I saw myself there working with them, and could think of nothing else for it.

  But looking at Ellia, the way her eyes were glowing with slight humor, I could only think: you don't know me. You don't know what my job is here. If you did—you would be the one telling me that I'd be out there working, or building, or toiling, or doing whatever I might need to do. She loved me, even as Cole. But she did not love me as she loved, Cyric. And she did not think of me as partner with her in caring for this country as I was now.

  "Anyways, you'll have to teach me then, if you know about farming," she said, "I don't think I've done much of it myself."

  She walked around me. And for some reason, then watching her move to the large round table, that had once served as the center for battle-planning, I thought of dragging her along with me, into that chicken coop. Just after Uldin Keep's betrayal, and all with her shouting about how the Akadian's had betrayed us—which she'd just heard from Garagos. I remembered asking her if she had gold to help us along to Brenham, to the south. I remembered planning it out in my mind, maybe there'd even been flashes in my thoughts, just quick images running through—of us, toiling for one, in that sort of farm-work we might be fated to now, but other things, a small town, entered by just the two of us, her being afraid, and my being brave, somehow acquiring our own sort of place. I could have built it, while she praised me. We could have spent days working, and nights... but at that time, even though I'd already been brave enough to run through that, that had been such a simple place to imagine escaping to. It really had been running, to think we could leave all our people behind. I remembered when Ellia had said in Genbu, that she'd thought that Cyric, that I, had always kept her from going off and not being the princess that she should be—even when I'd refused to leave with her in Echren.