by Stina Leicht
“Why am I discussing this with you?” he asked, making one last effort. “Stick to doing what you do best. Sail your little boat and be happy.”
“I’m eighteen, Papa. I’m ready for this. You wouldn’t have named me crown princess otherwise. You need my help.”
“I have help. I have Sakari.”
She lowered her face and pouted. “Papa, please.”
“All right. All right. Enough of that. You can go. And you can take the Waterborne with you as leverage. But you’ll have an escort, and you won’t leave their safety. Do you hear?” he asked, holding up a hand and turning away.
“Yes, Papa.”
“Promise me something in exchange.”
“What is it?”
“Have you given much thought to binding?”
A cold shiver crawled up her spine. She’d hoped to avoid the topic for a few more years. It was one of the reasons she’d been so careful not to display any inclination toward long-term lovers since being declared Heir Apparent. She knew what lay ahead if she did. She’d be reduced to a power in name only. Only a male could rule alone. It was how things were done in Eledore. But not in Ytlain. Dread tightened the knot in her stomach. She shook her head. “There are so many more important matters.”
Her father folded his hands behind his back, nodded, and slowly paced as he did when he wanted to look like he was listening even when he wasn’t. She suddenly noticed that his athletic figure had begun to show a paunch. “Why are you so reluctant to talk about marriage?”
She paused, pretending to consider the question. In truth, she’d prepared her answer some time ago—one she knew would appeal to her father’s vanity. It was also one that she hoped might breed a certain amount of paranoia in him. “I love you so much, Papa. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
He whirled, a frown on his face. “I don’t understand.”
At the same time, she knew the argument would only solidify his idea of her as too sentimental. She took the plunge anyway. “It’s only that all this talk of who I’m to marry and who will inherit the kingdom makes me feel like—like we’re speaking of your death!”
Deep shock stole over his expression.
“And I—I fear it will only bring it about sooner. I love you, Papa. I don’t want you to—to die. Please—”
His shock transformed into warmth and indulgence just as she’d hoped. “Little sparrow, what gives you these silly ideas?”
She bit her lip as if reluctant to speak. “Cousin Filip married last fall. And both his parents died a month after.” She had chosen her example well. In truth, rumors of an assassin’s dart were circulating the Tahmerian court. Some even suggested poisoned soup had been to blame. “What is the rush? There’s no need.” She looked up to him. “Unless you are feeling ill. You are, aren’t you, Papa? Should I get the healer?” Springing up from her chair, she went to the door.
His laughter stopped her. “Sakari told me not to underestimate you,” he said between soft chuckles. “It appears he was right.”
Shit. She turned and to her relief saw real happiness in her father’s face.
“He said you understand more of leadership than I give you credit for.” Her father settled on the upholstered bench in front of the long row of windows overlooking the ship’s stern. Then he patted the rich blue brocade cushion next to him. “Come, my little sparrow who is no longer so little anymore. Sit.”
She sat. He placed an arm around her and drew her to his side with an affectionate squeeze. He hadn’t done any such thing since she could remember. Part of her gloried in it, but the more cautious side of her grew wary. “We will speak as equals. You have concerns regarding your uncle,” he said. “You think him dangerous? To me?”
“I do, Papa.” Think? I know. And I’m not the only one.
Her father shook his head. “If that were so, I’d have been dead long ago. I have trusted him since we were boys. He has all the power he could want. He has no need of more.”
“If you say so.” She thought, But will he give up that power when you’re gone? I doubt it.
“You’re a young woman. The time has come for you to settle down. Have children—”
“All right.” Equals? If I were male would we be having this conversation? Really? “I don’t have to bind permanently. Not yet. I asked Mother if I could try a year’s contract once or twice before I settled on someone. She seemed open to the idea, provided it was all right with you. Please, Papa—”
Again, he held up his hand as if to shush her. “I’ve an option to propose. It’s unorthodox but not without precedent.”
“Who do you have in mind?”
“What about Sakari?”
“That’s disgusting!”
“He is only my half brother. Legally, it’s possible.”
“I don’t care! I won’t give the court gossips more fuel. Such a thing would equate to declaring that you aren’t my father. What would happen to Mother? I can’t!”
“It wouldn’t be like that.”
“It would!”
“Not if it wasn’t a normal binding. It can be declared a political partnership. Executed for the kingdom’s sake. He’s not interested in anything else. You could take whatever lovers suited you. He would make no claims in that arena. Besides, he has a mistress.”
Suvi thought, And what’s to keep him from replacing me with that mistress once you’re gone? “No, Papa!”
“How will it be any different? He can see to the country as he does now. And you can sail your boats.”
“If that’s the case, why should anything change?”
“My father’s name, Ilmari, must continue. And it can. Through him and his heirs.”
“I won’t do this! I won’t!”
“Ytlain has proven too dangerous for closer ties. Massilia’s prince is far too old.”
“How is a political partnership preferable to a ninety-year-old? At least we would have a chance at uniting two kingdoms under one crown!”
“Massilia’s lower nobility would never stand for it.”
“You’re so sure?”
“I am.” He held out his hand, counting down on his fingers. “Henry of Kaledan is too young.”
“He’s twelve. That didn’t stop Grandfather. He was ten.”
“Times have changed. It would risk Eledore becoming Kaledan’s protectorate. You aren’t a king.”
“I’m to be a queen. Is there a difference?”
“Suvi, my sweet—”
“Well, is there?”
“We are Eledore, not Ytlain!” He got up and paced across the cabin. “I’ve allowed your mother too much influence in your education. There are certain proprieties—”
And what makes you think I won’t strip down those outdated ideals once I’m in power? On the other hand, is that what this is about? She looked away. One problem at a time. “Fine. What of Duke Miguel Isadarr of Tahmer?”
“Have you not heard? He wed an Ytlainen whore last winter.”
She paused. A political partnership in lieu of marriage wasn’t all that unusual. It’d been done before when royal family lines had drawn too close. Nonetheless, she didn’t like the idea of her uncle gaining any more power than he already had. “There are the lesser nobles, Papa. And there’s love. I could bind for love.”
“Don’t be naive.”
“I could take your name and not Mother’s. Your name could carry on through me.” She saw him take in that idea and give it thought.
“You would do that for me?”
She nodded. “It would upset Mother, but Hännenen is only a name, Papa.”
His gaze traveled to the landscape painting on the wall opposite. It was a view of the palace in Jalokivi with the mountain range beyond. “There is more to the family of Ilmari than a name, Little Sparrow. Much more. Our traditions have purpose. Our blood has purpose. The royal line of Eledore must remain unbroken. There are reasons for this of which you and your mother are ignorant.”
&nb
sp; “Yes, Papa.” If you say so, she thought.
“Perhaps the time has come? A test of the blood.” He continued to stare at the painting. “They wait in the dark. There is only one way to be certain.”
She opened her mouth to ask what he meant but stopped when she saw his expression. His eyes had faded to a pale gray, and his face seemed blank. Something about it reminded her of the Silmaillia. Suvi didn’t think her father had premonitions, but it was possible. She waited to see what he would say next.
He blinked as if waking from a trance, and cleared his throat. “What were we talking about?”
A chill passed through her. She didn’t like that brief look of confusion on her father’s face. He seemed tired, even old. She didn’t like it one bit. “You were talking about Uncle Sakari.”
“Ah, yes. Well. All I’m asking for the moment is that you give the matter some consideration. Be polite to him. Humor me.” He sat down at her side again. “Do so, and I’ll grant you something nice in exchange.”
She paused. She didn’t like the idea but didn’t see a way out of it. “It had better be worth it.”
He smiled and touched her chin as if she were ten. The familiar gesture put her at ease once more. “How about a fleet, Little Sparrow?”
Her heart skipped. Although she’d only achieved a lieutenant’s stripes before she’d been forced to quit, she’d dreamed her whole life of captaining ships. A whole fleet? “Can I decide which ships?”
“You can take your pick. Any you like.”
“Even among the nobles?”
“Certainly.”
“All right. I’ll think about it.”
“There’s my girl. That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”
She stared at her lap and attempted not to feel she’d been bought. Perhaps he knows me too well after all. She told herself that everything had its price. “No, Papa.” I said I’d consider it. I never said I’d agree.
“That’s settled,” her father said. He seemed happier, less worried. “Now that that is out of the way, there is something we should tend to before returning home.”
“But I thought I’d contact the Waterborne, find a ship, and then leave at once.” She didn’t want to give her uncle another chance to trap her.
“Not yet. There is something that must be seen to first.”
“What about Dylan?”
“What about him?”
“He can’t stay in the brig, Father,” she said. “It will ruin my chances before I’ve even started.”
“Fine. I will confine him to his quarters until further notice. When we leave the ship, he is to be kept among your retinue and escorted at all times.”
“Thank you, Papa.”
Her father went to the table and poured himself a glass of wine. “When you leave here, send for the message master. A bird must go to the Silmaillia. She will meet us at the palace. Then we’re going to Keeper Mountain.”
“Keeper Mountain?” Suvi shuddered. “Whatever for?”
Her father drank the contents of his glass in one swallow and then poured another. The dark red vintage reminded Suvi of blood. “You’ve a royal duty that must be attended to.”
“No one goes there. Isn’t it haunted?”
Her father turned to stare at the painting again. “That is the very reason why you must go.”
THREE
“Ouch!” Suvi jerked her hand away from the severed blackthorn branch and checked her palm. She pinched out a large thorn with a wince and then resumed helping her father clear away the birch and blackthorn seedlings that had overgrown the cave entrance.
Early-afternoon sun cast inky splotches on the ancient carvings scarring the canyon wall. She turned away and suppressed a shiver. A wind gust ricocheted off the rocky surface, thrashing the forest opposite and making the lush treetops ripple like the surface of a lake in heavy weather. Squinting against flying grit, she imagined the rush of wind through new leaves as the sound of a swell rushing a ship’s bow. The soothing image was punctuated with the thud of fine steel meeting its stubborn leafy target. She huddled inside the hood of her fur-trimmed hunting coat while the muscles at the base of her neck pinched. Her palm stung. It was still bleeding, and she wiped fresh blood on the inside of her jacket pocket. She checked an urge to put the wound to her mouth. There was a foul undercurrent in the air, originating from the cave. She didn’t recognize the scent.
“I’m not certain this is a fair test,” Saara said.
“And why not?” The king paused, sword in the air.
“You damned well know why,” Saara said. “Ilta, bring me that bag. I need the mugwort.”
“The blood will tell,” her father said, returning to his earlier stoicism. “It always does.”
“I’m only going through with this under protest,” Saara said. “The danger to—”
“Enough!”
Suvi turned, catching Saara’s angry expression. Suvi didn’t look at her father but kept her eyes on Saara. “Is there something I should be worried about, Papa?”
“Just do as I told you,” he said. “And everything will be fine.”
Saara frowned.
Every spring, as soon as the roads allow, the Guardian’s Ritual must be performed before summer heats the World’s Pillar.
Venturing into a dark, haunted cavern without protection seemed foolhardy at best. So Suvi thought, but her father had insisted there were to be no witnesses. So it was that the royal guard, Piritta, Dylan, and the servants had been left at the palace. Suvi had expected a long journey up the mountainside. However, her father had led her, the Silmaillia, and her apprentice, Ilta, to the castle keep, where he stored some of his favorite wines. Located under the palace library, the keep was designed as a haven for royalty during times of war or unrest. And although it was windowless and dank, it had long been one of Suvi’s favorite places to read. She’d almost laughed. All that bluster about wearing warm-enough clothes and sturdy boots. She’d been surprised when her father showed her the hidden door. Through that, they’d safely made a five-mile journey to Keeper Mountain without the need of an escort. Nonetheless, the ancient tunnel with its mundane cave life would’ve been uncomfortable enough without knowing what waited for her.
The Guardian’s Ritual must be performed before summer heats the World’s Pillar.
A strange silence hung over the group. The air felt heavy yet empty. She could hear the far off cry of a bird. Suddenly, what was wrong fell into place. Where are the usual forest insect noises?
Keeper Mountain wasn’t all that far from the palace. However, there were no roads marring its sides, no farms, nothing. The mountain loomed in the east above the city of Jalokivi, and often Suvi wondered why her ancestors had chosen to build the winter palace so close to such a foreboding place. The summer palace at Järvi Satama was much more beautiful and accessible. Keeper Mountain’s brooding slopes gave off a bad feeling even when viewed from the winter palace roof. It was much worse standing on the mountain itself. She felt like an intruder. The peak was rarely free of cloud cover, and so, even on the brightest of days, it seemed an apparition when compared to its sisters and brothers. The court didn’t speak of Keeper Mountain. There were no histories told of it, no battles, no adventures on its slopes—at least, none that weren’t spoken of at a whisper even in broad daylight.
In the center of the clearing stood a limestone monolith, the World’s Pillar. Beyond the Pillar, the rune-scarred mountain face jutted hundreds of feet to the sky. A deep fissure split the wall. On either side of the opening perched the giant stone figure of a gyrfalcon—the symbol of her father’s house. One claw raking the air, each raptor stretched wide a fanned wing. Their wingtips overlapped the top of the arch. The statues were less weathered than the carved prayers and warnings in the old tongue covering the rock walls around and in between. Suvi couldn’t read most of what was written, largely because unlike Nels, she was terrible with languages. However, what she could understand sent her hand to the Blesse
d Mother’s circle cast in silver hanging around her neck from a silver chain.
Finished clearing away the brush, her father wiped his blade clean of sap before putting it away. Then he dug around in the pack he’d abandoned at the foot of the pillar until he located a small book. The edges of its pages were yellowed with age.
“We should get started,” he said, moving to a position in front of the cave. He reached into a coat pocket for a handkerchief, wiped sweat from his face, and then put the handkerchief away. He opened and closed the book as if checking it. Its cover was made of textured leather polished by what Suvi assumed were hundreds of anxious royal hands. “I pass the Guardianship of Eledore to you, Suvi Natalia Annika, daughter of House Ilmari.”
Suvi slowed her breathing. Again, she thought of her new responsibilities, and her unease increased. Does this mean that Father is giving me a chance to rule without Uncle?
“Keep the realm safe with the sacrifice of knowledge,” her father said, and handed off the little tome.
Checking the cover, she saw that it had no title and the bindings had been repaired multiple times.
Saara set one of the lanterns on the ground with a stern face, then kissed her cheek. “Do as Ilta says, girl. She has been studying for this her whole life. She knows what to do.” Straightening, she next laid a hand on Suvi’s forehead. “Blessings, Guardian of the Realm, may the Great Mother, Goddess, and Protector of the Earth, the Father, God, and Guardian of the Sky, and all their servants grant you strength.”
Suvi remembered to bow her head and then press the book to her heart.
Saara handed the last ornamental lantern to Ilta. She touched the top of Ilta’s head and paused. “You’re warm. How do you feel?”
“I’m fine, Gran.”
Frowning, Saara said, “Are you sick? You feel feverish.”
“It’s the exertion from the climb. I overdressed.”
Saara’s frown didn’t budge.
“All right, I do feel a little stuffy. Maybe it’s a cold.” Ilta didn’t look her grandmother in the eye.