Winter Queen

by Erica Marie Hogan

  Brecken’s hands clenched into fists at his side, glaring at anyone who looked at him twice when he reached the top of the steps. He could hear her moving around behind the door, as calm as she’d ever been. There was no rustling about, no rushing in her work as if she hadn’t been whispering in dark alleys with foreigners in the marketplace.

  Taking a deep breath, Brecken shoved open the door. Noelle squeaked, looking up from playing with her dolls on her cot in the corner. Brae turned around quickly, her dagger flashing in her hand, clattering to the floor the moment she saw him, her chest heaving with deep breaths as she stumbled back against the wall.

  “You frightened me.” She glared at him, the heat of her gaze warming his skin.

  Brecken ignored her, his eyes going instead to the two foreigners sitting at his table. The man rose ever so slowly, recognition flickering in those dark eyes. Just hours ago they’d met, sword to sword, on the docks. The little, veiled woman with him was as calm as she could be, slowly lowering her spoon from her bowl of soup to the table to fold both hands in her lap. Her guard’s shadow fell upon her as he hovered, glaring at Brecken’s sword at his hip.

  “Brecken, put your sword away.” Brae plunked her fists on her hips. “These are our friends!”

  “Friends?” Brecken repeated.

  “This is Navaria.” Brae stepped up behind the chair, placing her hand on the little woman’s shoulder. “And her companion is called Krow.”

  “What are they doing in my home, Brae?” Brecken growled.

  “I thought it was our home, Brecken Jandry,” Brae’s voice lowered angrily. “I have invited guests into our home for supper, Brecken.”

  “We do not wish to cause trouble,” the woman, Navaria, spoke in a soft, lilting voice. “We were in need of assistance, and your wife’s generosity is greatly appreciated.”

  “I must speak with you, Brae, now.” Brecken turned without another word, marching into their bedroom.

  Brae followed him with her head held high, casting a glance over her shoulder before she closed the door.

  “News of this is spreading in the streets!” Brecken hissed, leaning close to her so he could keep his voice from being heard.

  “Tell me what law I have broken.” Brae held up her hands. “Tell me what crime I have committed, and I will confess to my sin and pay the consequence. I have done nothing but bring guests into my home for a hot meal and shelter during the night.”

  “You brought foreigners within a mile of the Blood Keep!” Brecken growled, buffing the back of his neck as he paced back and forth. “How can you not see this is wrong?”

  “The king has brought foreigners into the Blood Keep!” Brae grunted, crossing her arms. “Still, you do not tell me what I have done wrong, husband.”

  “You were a Sundragon!” Brecken stopped in front of her, leaning close until their noses nearly touched. “You are not permitted to speak with foreigners, to bring them into your home or to guide them straight through the gates of the Blood Keep!”

  “So, any friend of mine is an enemy to the king,” Brae murmured.

  “Any foreigner you befriend, yes,” Brecken grumbled. “You have put yourself in peril now, Brae. The king will be watching you ever more closely, and you have given Raphaela the reason she needs to persecute you! You have also endangered those people out there, who, by all I’ve seen, are innocent travelers! How could you do this? Knowing who you were—who you are—how could you do this?”

  Brae bowed her head but did not answer. Grumbling beneath his breath, he brushed past her, stepping out once more. The foreigners were still sitting at his table, but neither of them ate. They looked up when he entered, he could feel the woman’s sharp gaze upon him even from beneath her thick veil. Taking a long breath, Brecken calmed his racing heart.

  “You may take shelter with us this night, but it is not safe for us to harbor you further,” he announced as calmly as he could manage, flexing his fingers at his sides to keep his hands from fisting.

  “We are grateful, Captain.” Navaria dipped her head. “You are most kind, and we will not impose.”

  “My thanks for that, Lady Navaria.” Brecken bowed at the waist. “I pray you find rest tonight.”

  He turned, yanking the door open. A chill breeze rippled his cloak as his wife’s voice stopped him on the threshold.

  “Where are you going?” Her weak inquiry barely reached his ears.

  Brecken looked over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed. Brae winced, hugging herself as she turned her face away. He hated causing her pain, but the ramifications of what she’d done would hit her soon enough, and she had to learn she was not exempt from the king’s wrath because she’d married him. Brecken knew better than anyone that his wife was a pawn in Raphaela and Roderick’s game. She was their plaything, their prey, and they were waiting for a mistake like this to take her down. Slowly and painfully. Brecken’s hands did fist now, his fingers pressing deeply into his palm until his knuckles paled.

  “I will sleep in the guardhouse tonight so our guests might have a soft bed to rest upon,” he snarled, and she shuddered. “I am sure you won’t mind resting with our daughter, wife.”

  Brae turned her back on him, and Brecken slammed the door.

  “You’re losing your touch, Mirae,” Jaeger commented. He swatted her sword aside like a bothersome fly.

  Mirae growled, dancing back away from him as they moved in a circle in the clearing. Men and women came in and out of their tents, going about their business without giving them a second glance. They’d camped in the woods a few miles outside Quintaria, keeping low and quiet so the citizens of the city wouldn’t be alerted to their presence. As yet, they didn’t know where Quintaria’s loyalty lay—the false king or the Sundragon. Mirae remembered Quintaria as being a simple city with its people as loyal to her father as any in Nfaros.

  But things change. Years pass, and the people’s hearts grow cold to the old ways. To the old king. I can trust no one. Mirae sighed, tilting her head back toward the sun.

  Since leaving the village, the Woodland Folk seemed happier. Their first victory had ignited hope in their hearts. Mirae saw the sparkle in their eyes, and she recognized their feelings well. The sparkle was good to see, knowing she had brought that bit of hope and peace into their lives once more. They believed, even with this small conquest, that they could now win. They didn’t see what she saw when they looked toward the great city of Sunkai. They didn’t see the walls that would keep them out, the great expanse of the city they would have to conquer. Building after building, filled with people ready to fight to defend what was theirs—to keep out the intruders who would take their homes and streets from them.

  Closing her eyes, she could see the marketplace. The stalls filled with wares, the merchants shouting their goods for all the city to hear. Mirae smirked, wondering how it had changed. Had the marketplaces expanded to the docks, as her father always dreamed they would? Was there free trade between the Mountain People and the locals of the city? She would never know, for Sunkai was always out of her reach.

  Until now.

  “You have lowered your sword, little one.” Jaeger’s voice brought her back to the present. “Do you concede?”

  “You would enjoy that, wouldn’t you, Jaeger?” Mirae put her sword away. “We will continue this later.”

  “Your mind is elsewhere.” Jaeger nodded, sliding his own blade into its sheath. “I’ve told you not to dwell on that which you cannot control.”

  Mirae turned away, and he fell into step beside her, making their way through the camp. She smiled when she saw Griyer emerge from his tent, stretching himself from side to side. His grin spread wide when he saw her, and she waved. His wife, Lara, rolled her eyes, grabbed his arm and tugged him around the side of the tent to help her with the wash. Mirae chuckled softly at the sight.

  Strange seeing two of her lie
utenants doing their laundry, like any normal couple in the world. Griyer and Lara had been the first friends she’d made besides Jaeger when they brought her into the circle all those years ago. Some were wary of her, others even cruel, but Lara had seen what all the others came to know and they had sheltered her from the fears of the Woodland Folk.

  A chill wind rustled her hair, and her smile faded. Winter was approaching, slowly now, but still coming. If the first snow came too soon, then all her plans would be ruined. First, they had to spread the word throughout Quintaria of her survival. She had to make some sort of appearance there. The Quintarians were a gentle people, but skeptical, and if she could win them, then she was already halfway there. Kaldon would be her next stop if all went well and Jaeger stopped being so protective.

  Yet I understand his hesitancy. I understand his fears. Mirae shivered, hugging herself.

  “What is it, little one?” Jaeger asked, patting her shoulder lightly. “Not even the strongest wind could make you tremble like this.”

  “I need to see her,” Mirae grumbled, raking her fingers through her hair. “She hasn’t spoken to me since before we took the village, and I need to know what is to come. I need to know we will succeed.”

  “You know she is cryptic, Mirae.” Jaeger hesitated, putting his arm around her shoulders as they walked between the tents. “Sometimes her words mean many things. Different things.”

  “I understand,” Mirae growled impatiently, wringing her hands. “But there has been no word, nothing to tell me where I am to go next. Do I go to Sunkai or continue with the plan to take Quintaria?”

  “Quintaria is far too big a city for us to take. There are too many risks involved, and we are not strong enough to lose our numbers.” Jaeger frowned. “No, here we should be cautious. We will send some of our women to purchase supplies at the Quintaria marketplace, but we will make no move against them. They are a simple, innocent people but the king’s army is everywhere within their walls. We could never take such a city. You will make a short appearance there to begin the rumors, that is all.”

  “Yet we plan to storm the city gates of Sunkai before the first snow.” Mirae shook her head. “How can we do that if you are not even willing to try to take a much smaller city like Quintaria?”

  “Our time will come. The Winter Queen does not bring the storm yet, Mirae. Only the wind. I don’t know why she hesitates, but the longer she waits, the better chance we have.” Jaeger tightened his grip on her shoulders. “You must have faith.”

  “Faith?” Mirae pulled away, stepping out of the circle of his arm. “I had faith a long time ago, Jaeger. Faith that I would live to see my sister on the throne. But Adlae abandoned me in the Gracian Wood and, I am certain, died there. So now, I must take her place for the law prohibits Brae since that monster forced her to marry Brecken Jandry. This situation is all wrong, Jaeger!”

  She turned her back, bowing her head as she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Which is why I must see her. I need to know, with certainty, that I am destined for the throne so I may fight without hesitation or regret.”

  Jaeger exhaled heavily, his large palm pressing against her shoulder. Mirae looked over her shoulder, ignoring the hot sting of tears in her eyes. She saw the hesitation in his eyes, the struggle that was there. He worried for her, but he had to see this must be done. Closing her eyes, she whispered,

  “Please, Jaeger.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I will take you to her.”

  Dark clouds rolled over the campsite, a prelude to a light rain. The Woodland Folk hustled into their tents, fires crackling inside and releasing smoke through the opening at the top of each tent. The children laughed as the first drops of rain began to fall, dancing about before their mothers hurried them inside. Mirae stood outside the tent where Jaeger had left her, her cloak wrapped around her and her hood shadowing her face. They were separated from the rest of camp, this tent outside the circle her people had formed. Mirae had known the woman would need a tent apart from the others, but still, she felt uncomfortable being outside the circle. In these parts of the woods, magic ran wild, but their circle protected them from the suffocating effects of Woodland magic.

  These woods were meant to shelter those creatures of magic the outside world feared, keeping anyone who might wish to cause them harm out. But the Woodland Folk had nowhere else to go when the great fires stripped their lands all those years ago. Sunkai and Kaldon, the two largest cities of Nfaros, were overrun with people until Mirae’s father had no choice but to send them away with as much gold as he could spare. They fled to the shelter of the woods and discovered this place, this woman who taught them how to survive in her world.

  Mirae shivered, buffing her arms as she paced in long strides back and forth in front of the tent flap. She glared at the guards who kept her from entering, even though she knew they had no choice. This woman’s title surpassed hers, and Mirae owed her respect. But still, she chafed that Jaeger was allowed entrance with a mere word while she, the woman who had been declared Queen of the Woodlands, was forced to wait outside in the rain. Perhaps because she wasn’t of the blood; perhaps because the only times she visited were to gain answers.

  Whatever the reason, Mirae wished she could discover what she had to do to gain the woman’s trust and friendship. But she feared it would never happen. The woman’s opinion of the world beyond these woods was clear. Her thoughts on the kings and queens of the Treeless Lands—as she called them—had become known to Mirae the first time she stepped over this tent’s threshold.

  Jaeger’s head popped out of the tent suddenly, and Mirae turned from her pacing, hunching close to him as he whispered, “You may want to fix your locks, little one.”

  Jaeger grinned, and she growled, pushing her hood back to comb out her messy hair with her fingers. Holding her hands up wide, she waited for his approval. Jaeger reached out to straighten her bodice, his eyes narrowed critically on her breeches. But Mirae didn’t care about them; she wasn’t about to put on one of those heavy woolen skirts all the other women wore when they were to come into the presence of this woman. She was the Queen of the Woodlands, she represented their freedoms, and she wasn’t about to lower herself to skirts once more.

  “All right, my lady.” He made a sweeping bow. “She will see you, but only for a moment. She is restless tonight.”

  Mirae pushed passed him, ducking quickly into the tent. She shook the raindrops from her cloak before removing it, handing the cover over to Jaeger. The tent was small, the ground covered in thick tapestries, woven in the fashion of the Quintarians, and a small, lumpy cot tucked to the side. In the center was a fire, circled in multicolored stones and rising high toward the circle in the tent roof there to release the smoke.

  Little drops of rain made the fire hiss, but it refused to go out. Mirae licked her lips, her eyes going to the woman who paced around the fire, wringing her hands. Her ebony skin glistened in the flame’s light—black hair roped in a thick braid to her knees. She wore a green wool robe with a wide belt about her thin waist to keep the robe positioned properly—her long legs peeking between the wrap with every step she took. But most striking about her appearance were her bright silver eyes. They glistened like a beacon in the dimly lit tent as she moved in a circle about the fire, mumbling to herself.

  “Lady Astra?” Mirae whispered, lowering herself to the floor slowly in the deepest bow she could manage.

  “Fire and water, sun and moon.” Astra barely spared her a glance, continuing her mutterings. Now she understood what Jaeger meant by restless. “Blood and cinders, swords and shields ...”

  “I need your help, my lady.” Mirae remained bowed, her head bent toward the floor. “I am in need of your gift. Will you tell me what you see?”

  Astra’s bare feet stopped in front of Mirae, slowly turning to face her. Looking up, she found those eyes upon her, translucent now as Astra weaved a magic
Mirae could neither see nor comprehend. Her heart raced as she waited in the silence, the wind rushing through the tent flaps, trying to bend the tent to its will. Mirae chewed her bottom lip, shifting to her knees as she tried to keep her patience, waiting for Astra’s prophecy.

  Suddenly, the woman touched her fingertips to Mirae’s forehead. Closing her eyes quickly, she raised her hands, palms up. Astra’s touch left a tingling on her skin before she felt the sting in her palms where the woman slashed her. Blood pooled in the cup of her hands, but she didn’t mind the pain. Every prophecy required a sacrifice, and if Astra was to see her future, then she had to shed her blood. Mirae’s skin tightened when Astra twirled her fingers in the pools of red on her hands, feeling the magic weave like vines all around her. Her eyes fluttered open as Astra’s thick voice washed over her in waves. Her words sent ice through Mirae’s veins.

  “What you seek comes with the greatest price of all,” Astra intoned, her voice echoing in the tent. “There will be blood and fire. There will be victory with sorrow. The blood of one you love most will be shed and their soul claimed by the Creator’s eternity.”

  Astra’s head tilted back at a sharp angle, her eyes casting beams of light on the tent walls. Thunder crashed outside, the flash of lightning illuminating the tent for a moment. Mirae gasped at the sound, unable to take her eyes from Astra’s face, unable even to blink. The woman’s body began to tremble. Mirae’s blood dripped from her fingertips. Then Astra stopped, falling to her knees. They were face to face now. So close Mirae could feel Astra’s hot breath on her cheek. For just a moment, her eyes cleared, the clouds rolling back to reveal pure silver that burned Mirae’s skin. Astra’s voice resounded, louder than the thunder that shook the ground.

  “Nfaros will be won with the blood of innocents ... and you will sit on the humble throne of the Sundragon, Queen over us all.”