Queenslayer

by Sebastien de Castell

  He nodded. “And your Jan’Tep people too.”

  “And now the Daroman borders are getting walked all over by the Zhuban. They’re getting bolder by the day.”

  Martius nodded again. “Go on.”

  “So what she fears is looking weak. If the nobility fears the Zhuban enough, and can’t trust the queen to protect their lives and property, eventually they’re going to start looking for an alternative.”

  “Now watch what you say there, Kellen. Remember, the queen is a fine young lady. She didn’t make all of this trouble happen—that was her father. I can’t imagine, and neither can you, what it must be like for her. No child should ever have to face such dilemmas.”

  A thought occurred to me. “I still have the writ,” I said.

  “What writ?”

  “The writ of execution. The one she signed. If it were to come out that she had signed it herself, it might look like she was currying favour with Leonidas—that she needed to appease him. If it were to come out that she was behind Tasia’s attempt to seduce, and later kill, Leonidas, the queen would be ruined. But if people knew she had signed the writ, after having seemed to be unaware of the case when Mariadne brought it up at court, she would seem to be plotting with Leonidas.”

  Martius shook his head. “A dangerous game, Kellen.”

  “So you don’t think I should use this against her?”

  Martius shrugged. “I think you should follow your conscience, son. That’s what we all need to do in these troubled times.”

  I considered my options. They all still came back to either taking a chance on the queen or letting Tasia die. But I wasn’t willing to let an innocent woman hang for the political gambits of the court.

  Martius looked at me, shook his head and gave a laugh. “For a card player, you have a terribly easy face to read. I’ll send for my carriage.”

  31

  The Queen’s Hand

  “I find myself displeased by my tutor of cards,” the queen said.

  Well, you’re the one who hired me, lady, I thought, but bringing that up seemed like a bad idea at that particular moment. Her Imperial Majesty, the Queen of Darome, sat straight-backed in a kind of portable throne in the centre of a richly furnished tent that stood roughly five times the height of a man and was large enough to hold the queen, half the nobles from the court and a contingent of Leonidas’s soldiers.

  “You have but to say the word, Majesty, and I will deal with the boy,” Leonidas said.

  She looked at him sternly. “Have you forgotten, major, that Kellen is one of my royal tutors? As such he cannot be harmed nor charged unless four-fifths of the court dismiss him from my service.” She leaned forward slightly. “I wonder that you showed such deference to my previous tutors.”

  Leonidas looked around at the reaction of the nobles in the tent, his face reddening.

  “She’s none too happy with him,” Martius whispered to Mariadne and myself. He’d insisted on picking her up before we came, seemingly for the purpose of instructing both of us on the intricacies of royal politics. “He’s been pushing the queen hard during this trip on the need for even more soldiers under his command.”

  “Your Majesty knows I am her humblest servant and defer to her wisdom in all things,” Leonidas said, though I noticed he didn’t bow.

  The queen appeared unconcerned by his lack of deference, but there was a very slight hesitation in her voice. “Good. Then please do so now as I try to sort out this mess that you and Countess Mariadne have put before me. You have seen this writ, Master Kellen?”

  Mister, I thought, but again figured this was a poor time to be correcting the queen’s grammar. “I have, Your Majesty.”

  “And you claim that Major Leonidas did not, as he earlier claimed, call for clemency, but instead demanded the maid be executed for her crime. Was there anything else of note you observed in this writ?”

  This, right here, was the moment I would either confirm I had leverage over her, or swiftly find my head separated from my neck. “Well, you see, Your Majesty, that’s the funny thing. I’m almost positive I noted at least one other remarkable thing about the writ, but in all the rush to get here, I’m afraid it’s slipped my mind.”

  “You’ve forgotten?” she asked, the beginnings of a laugh coming fast on the heels of her question. She stifled it, though, which was smart. Fake laughter is actually quite easy to detect.

  “Yes, Your Majesty. My memory’s never been all that good.” Actually my memory is excellent, and I kept my eyes on hers to make sure she knew it.

  The queen seemed to ponder my words. “I understand this writ is now lost?”

  “Yes. I found it quite by accident outside the magistrate’s office. No doubt the wind had blown it from his desk and out the window.” In fact it would’ve had to blow under a locked door, down a hallway, around a corner, through two sets of bars and then out of a window—which had been closed at the time. Or stolen by a squirrel cat who’s particularly good at picking locks.

  “And you subsequently lost it yourself?” she asked.

  I spread my arms helplessly. “Flew right out of my hands, Your Majesty.”

  “Quite a magical wind you’ve been encountering, tutor of cards. Let us hope it hasn’t accompanied you on this journey or it might well blow this very tent away and leave us all standing outside in the cold.”

  The courtiers and retainers laughed. Leonidas gave a particularly loud—and patently fake—chortle. “What a shame your grip was too weak to hang on to the document, boy,” he said. “That way we could’ve all known if you were lying.”

  I didn’t bother turning to him. I kept my gaze on the queen. “You never know. The thing about magical winds is that there’s no way of predicting when they’re next going to blow. The writ could remain lost forever… or drop right into our hands any moment now.”

  Nothing in the queen’s expression betrayed anxiousness or acquiescence, but she nonetheless did as she knew I wanted, and addressed Leonidas. “Well, major, it seems you and I are united in our inconvenience. Do you still maintain that you asked for clemency for the girl?”

  For a big, dumb guy, he wasn’t that dumb. “I… I do not quite recall, Your Majesty. It seems to me that I did, but it is possible the magistrate failed to understand my meaning.”

  “What poor memories everyone suffers from today. Perhaps the magistrate, being busy with so many cases and in great haste to administer judgement on behalf of the worthy citizens of Urbana Sarrix, momentarily misunderstood your carefully worded request. That would explain things to everyone’s satisfaction, wouldn’t it?”

  Leonidas frowned. “And yet, Your Majesty, should we not consider that if the magistrate, with all his long years of judicial experience and wisdom, instinctively deemed that the girl should suffer the penalty prescribed by law for attempting to murder a military commander during times of war, is it proper for you or I to second-guess him?”

  The queen looked thoughtful.

  “Watch,” Martius murmured. “He’s pushed her too far now. He’s tried to embarrass her and now she’s going to prick him—but not too much. She’s a clever girl. She’ll thread the needle just right.”

  “Are we at war, Major Leonidas?” the queen asked finally.

  “Are we at…?”

  “You said it yourself, quite plainly, here in front of my court: ‘The girl should suffer the penalty prescribed by law for attempting to murder a military commander during times of war.’”

  “What I meant was—”

  “If this is so,” she went on, cutting him off before he could dig himself out of the hole, “I have not been informed of it. In fact I’d believed that the peace treaty with our neighbours to the north, signed by my father prior to his death and affirmed by myself, still held the force of law. Is it possible, major, that you have declared war against the Zhuban without consulting me?”

  Leonidas straightened. “A poor choice of words, Your Majesty. We are, of course, not at war. Y
our honoured father did indeed make a treaty with the Zhuban, though some of us continue to find such concessions… troubling. However, they harry our borders repeatedly, forcing those of us whose sworn duty is to protect this empire to fight, and all to often, to shed our blood to preserve Your Majesty’s peace.”

  Nice double-entendre, I thought, Your Majesty’s peace could refer just as easily to the treaty or to the easy comforts enjoyed by an idle monarch.

  Cautious grumbling rose from the audience. “Cleverly done,” Martius noted. “The nobility have always resented the queen’s father betraying his promise to renew the wars of expansion.”

  It looked as if the queen had overplayed her hand. Perhaps she really was just an eleven-year-old girl pretending at being a two-thousand-year-old soul. I could make out snatches of side conversations in hushed tones among several small groups of the assembled nobles. Is this how fast it happens? I wondered. Am I about to see an empress lose her throne just because I came to box her in and force her to release a lowborn maid?

  The queen raised a hand for silence. Quiet came grudgingly over the court. “Very well, Major Leonidas, I have but one more question for you.”

  He was practically gloating already. “Yes, Your Majesty? Shall I explain once again—” I noted how he hung there a while, implying she hadn’t understood his apparently many prior attempts to instruct her on Darome’s precarious military situation—“the complexities surrounding our situation with Zhuban?”

  “No, no,” she said with a smile. “I’ve found your expositions on the subject of your many valorous missions along the border and the many, many dangers you personally have faced to be more than sufficient.”

  An unexpected burst of laughter from the audience. Nice one, kid, I thought.

  “No, Major Leonidas,” the queen went on. “My question is simply this: at any point during your… encounter with the maid Tasia, were you in peril of being overcome by her?”

  “‘Overcome’?” the major demanded. “By a maid?”

  “Yes. Was she a particularly formidable fighter? Did she present a credible threat to your life?”

  Leonidas looked like someone had just made him eat a frog. “I… That is, Your Majesty, it’s not for me to question the magistrate’s interpretation of wheth—”

  “Come now, major, the question is simple enough: were you, with all your military tactics and experience, with your very impressive sword and legendary martial prowess, in danger of being overpowered by a hysterical scullery maid’s kitchen knife?”

  The major found himself surrounded by the eyes of his superiors, his peers and, worst of all, his subordinates, all wondering the same question: was Leonidas perhaps not quite the man he’d always presented himself to be.

  “Never!” he declared, loudly enough that had there been a table near him I’d no doubt he would’ve slammed it with his fist. “I have led a hundred skirmishes. I have killed Zhuban Elites with my bare hands. Had that simpering creature been armed with every trebuchet and cannon in Darome, still she would not ha—”

  “That’s fine, major,” the queen said. She pretended to a thoughtful expression before sighing and leaning back in her chair. “Well then, I find myself confounded. If the maid was never a threat to you, and we are not in any event at war, then how came she to be charged with treason?”

  “Your Majesty would have to address such questions to your magistrate,” Leonidas said defensively, already beginning to turn away in preparation for what would no doubt be some impressive stomping out of the tent.

  “And do you feel that would be a suitable use of my time, major?” the queen asked, freezing him in his tracks.

  At long last Leonidas realised he had lost this round. “No, Your Majesty,” he replied, turning once again to face her. This time he did bow. “In fact I would counsel that you dismiss this matter immediately so that we might return to the discussion of the need for more troops along the northern border.”

  The queen nodded sagely. “You are quite correct, major. As I suspected, this is too small a matter for my attention. The question is dismissed.”

  Mariadne started to protest, but Count Martius grabbed her wrist. “Wait for it,” he said.

  The queen motioned to one of her marshals, a lean woman whose eyes surveyed the room as if she were making a list of everyone who’d slighted her monarch that day. “Lirius, you will obtain a writ of cessation for my signature. The maid Tasia’s sentence will be commuted to one year in prison for—how should we put it?—bringing distress to the Lord Major Leonidas during…stressful times.”

  The marshal nodded and left. Leonidas looked furious. I thought she’d pushed him further than necessary, but then I discovered he wasn’t quite done with her. “Shall I assume, Your Majesty,” he began, “that from your description of our situation you do not see fit to grant me the additional forces I requested to secure the border?”

  “And the additional monies,” she said absently.

  “Your Majesty?”

  “You forgot about the additional monies you requested as well. They are substantial. Why, with so many soldiers under your command and so much wealth at your disposal, there are no end of things you might achieve.”

  “I only seek to protect the people of Darome from the dangers that others have created.”

  The queen’s gaze was as cold as ice. “Are you informing me, Major Leonidas, that the border is now not secure under your leadership?”

  “I… No, Your Majesty. Forgive me—it was a poor choice of words.”

  She shrugged—an odd gesture for a queen. “Since you ask, I will forgive your poor choice of words. It seems I’m doing a great deal of that lately.” Had her eyes flickered to mine for just a second there? “In any event, Major Leonidas, I confess that I grow concerned with the poor choices you make—with your words as with other things.” She rose from her chair. I swear Leonidas looked like he was actually in danger of cowering before a girl a third his size. However, she soon relented. “Nonetheless, you do a passable job of pushing back the occasional Zhubanese incursion. In fact, I’m quite sure that most pressing tasks must be calling to you even now. I would consider it unconscionable to delay you further from your duties. Unless there are any more court matters for me to consider?”

  Leonidas stood stiff as a stone column. Walk away, you idiot, I thought. You’re not holding any more cards, so stop putting coins on the table. He didn’t, though. The major was what I like to call an “honourable fool”, with the honourable part almost always being redundant. “There is one more matter, Your Majesty.” He jabbed a finger in the direction of Mariadne and myself and his next words were gloriously outraged, as though he meant them to be preserved for all time. “I have been insulted by this woman. I have done nothing but risk my life and that of my troops to protect her and her home, and in return she has sullied my name and reputation—in your presence, no less. Does a military man’s honour count for nothing in Darome these days?”

  “You ask that I take some action against the countess, major?”

  He did a decent, but incomplete, job of hiding his smirk. “Your Majesty, I would never ask you to find cause against a cousin whom you clearly love beyond measure.”

  The queen went back to her throne and sat back down. For a long while she didn’t speak, instead allowing the major’s insinuation to spread about the nobles and soldiers like a bad smell. It was an interesting calculation, I thought: she was betting that, given a few seconds to think about it, they’d decide that his public whining about his honour counted against him more than the implication of the queen’s favouritism towards Mariadne weighed on her. It was like watching someone go all in on a pair of threes.

  It wasn’t at all clear who would win the hand. Everyone in the tent looked uncomfortable, then suddenly the silence was broken by a single snort. I’m not sure where came from, but it spread quickly, accompanied by giggling, sidelong glances at the major. The jury, it seemed, had rendered their decision, and fou
nd him guilty of being a giant prat.

  Damn, I thought, watching the queen sit placidly on her throne. Maybe she really could beat me at cards.

  “Well, major,” she began, “we have all heard your concerns, and while the court feels terrible at the many insults you have suffered, I believe we would all feel much better if you returned to your duties.”

  Leonidas left the room without bowing to the queen, but not before giving me the full benefit of his rage with a look that told me I’d better get out of the northern region as soon as possible. There was something else in his eyes too. It reminded me of someone anticipating the satisfaction of a particularly enjoyable meal, and it scared me a lot more than his anger. His soldiers followed him out, and I wondered if the way this had all shaken down meant everyone else had just made peace and I was screwed. Well, not me alone, as it turns out.

  Mariadne ran to the throne. “Beloved cousin, I thank you—”

  “You are dismissed as well, Countess Mariadne.”

  “I—”

  “Is there anything else, countess?” the queen asked, her young eyes looking positively baleful. “Perhaps a butler or cattle-thief you wish to have me set free?”

  “N-no, Your Majesty, I am most grateful for everything you’ve done.”

  “Then you are dismissed from our presence, cousin,” the queen said.

  Mariadne rose and headed for the door of the grand tent, then turned and said, “I promise, Your Majesty, I will come soon to the palace to visit you once again and renew our friendship.”

  “I find, Countess Mariadne, that court is very crowded these days and you would find the weather inclement. In fact, I would feel most reassured if I knew that you were staying at your home in Urbana Sarrix from now on. Should I feel the climate is more agreeable to your disposition, I will summon you.”