Keepers of the Flames (In the Eye of the Dragon Book 3)

by N M Zoltack

  Before dessert, Sabine excused herself. She had her guard stay so that all would know she would not be gone long at all. She sent word to Aldus Perez to have one of their trusted men sneak onto the Vincanan ship. Then, she returned and forced the others to speak.

  Within two hours instead of the one, Marcellus and the other Vincanans departed. Sabine and Rosalynne and a few other lords and ladies saw them off. The entire affair was somewhat subdued and forlorn. Why did Sabine feel as if allowing them to leave was a terrible mistake? Would she see the Vincanan again? Should she even bother to care about him?

  No. She could not and would not. All that mattered was that she wore the crown and that she was willing to do whatever it took to ensure no one stripped her of her power.

  I am Queen Sabine Grantham, and no one will take my crown from me. I earned it. I deserve it.

  So, why then, did she feel as if her authority was being undermined at every turn?

  13

  Olympia Li

  The sea cooperated for the most part aside from another huge squall that reclaimed all of the fish that Olympia had captured to store up to eat throughout the rest of her journey. A minor setback.

  At one point, a hole had forged in her hull, and she had to take from the railing in order to patch it shut before the boat filled too much with water. All in all, though, the voyage had not taken too long.

  The nights were getting longer, though, the warmth of the days slowly fading. Olympia had heard that the temperature in Maloyan and other nearby cities in Tenoch were colder than on the island of Olac, something that she had never understood until now.

  The high mountains in the region were so high that clouds prevented her from seeing the peaks. The elevation must be what caused the coldness.

  All along the shoreline were rocks, huge jagged ones. Olympia did her best to try to find a safer location to dock, but the current picked up, and she could not free the boat from its swift pace. The swift pace of the water rushed her along, the boat heading straight for a huge rock.

  There was only one thing Olympia could do. She jumped overboard.

  The shock of the frigid temperature stole her breath away, but Olympia resurfaced. She treaded water and watched as the current swept her boat against the rocks with a mighty heave that splinted the small vessel into pieces.

  Olympia gulped and swam her way to shore. Her body warmed slightly with the exercise, but she had a fair distance to go, and by the time she reached the shore, her arms and legs burned badly.

  The sand beneath her feet was not the warm pebbles she had been accustomed to for so long on Olac. There was much to see in this world, and she would enjoy learning all she could about the various cities and places as she would make her way southward toward Atlan. By the time she reached the throne, perhaps the two queens would have caused so much havoc and destruction that Olympia could waltz in and sit on the throne and none would rise up to stop her.

  Yes, Olympia knew that would not be the case. She was not naïve. If she truly wished for the crown, she had two options.

  One, she could try to amass an army and fight the queens or whoever was on the throne once she reached it.

  Or two, she could go about this a different way, a more Li way. Destruction, devastation, death, murder, betrayal, that was the way of the Riveras, not the Lis. No. Olympia would go the second route.

  The diplomatic approach.

  Olympia already had allies with nearly everyone in Olac. The nearest city to her present location should be Maloyan. Once she had found more supporters here from those with influence, she would move on. The more places she would visit, the more her influence and authority would grow even before she could reach Atlan.

  Yes, that was the way. Win the people's heart. No more deceit. No more betrayal. No more murders.

  It took Olympia quite some time to be able to hike over the mountains, and even more loomed before her. She was cold only the first night. The second day, she killed a wolf and used its skin to keep her warm.

  By the end of the next week, Olympia stood at the base of a two-mountain range. Nestled in the middle was a large city coated in snow. Maloyan.

  Grinning, determined, eager, Olympia wrapped her wolf skin tighter around her shoulders and strolled forward.

  Another day, another step closer to regaining the throne.

  14

  Cateline Locke

  The ship jostled, moving slower than it ever had since they had left, and gradually bumped against something hard. Princess Vivian Rivera hardly even moved at all. She had been in the ship hiding for who knew how long. During the first squall they came across, Vivian had been tossed about as if she weighed nothing more than a leaf in a tornado. How no one heard her thuds was beyond her because she had not yet mastered the art of riding the waves during the calmness let alone during a vicious storm.

  By the fifth night of stormy weather, though, Vivian was starting to gain her sea legs. Now, with the voyage finally completed, she had mastered.

  Vivian maintained her hiding spot in the cargo hold. This ship had not been anything at all like the previous one she had sneaked onto. This crew was entirely different. No loud parties, no merriment, no drunken revelry. Just sailing, straight sailing.

  Thus far, she had managed to avoid detection, but now would prove to be her grandest challenge yet.

  She must disembark. In Vincana. Which, from what Vivian had only learned the previous night, thought themselves independent of Tenoch Proper.

  A ridiculous notion to be sure. Yes, Vivian supposed it awkward for there to be two queens, but there had been regents before. This was no different.

  Of course, Vivian wished for there to be only one queen. Her sister. Or, if this sexercise didn't change Rosalynne's mind, Vivian would take over gladly. She would marry anyone. True, she wasn't eighteen yet, but she was a Rivera. That should count for more than anything else.

  It burned Vivian that Sabine was the ruling queen. She hadn't liked the woman her father had married. Vivian hadn't cared for Aldith before her either. That Aldith had cheated on her father shocked her. Who would betray a king like that? Aldith hadn't seemed like the kind of woman capable of such a deception. She had always been a frail, fragile type creature in Vivian's mind. She never understood why her father married the woman.

  Sabine was younger but craftier. Vivian had no doubt that she wanted to find a way to ensure Rosalynne never ruled. Could Sabine have been the one to have Noll killed? Perhaps but why not go after Rosalynne too? After all, Rosalynne was her most direct competition to the throne.

  The drumming of footsteps had Vivian hiding deeper within the bowels of the ship. It would not do for her to be caught now. A stowaway aboard the ship? One that clearly dressed as one from Tenoch? No. One she fled the ship, she could secure herself new clothes and try to pass off as a Vincanan, from a small town or village perhaps. How foolish she had been that she had not paid more attention to one of the Vincanan maps. She hadn't the foggiest of ideas what village to pretend to be from. At least the name she had given the strange man gave her an alias already, so she had one ready to go. His name had been unusual, Garsea, but hers, Cateline Locke, should be passable here too. At least, she hoped that to be the case.

  Were the crew members going to unload the few items they had in the hold? Hiding here had not been as easy as it had been on the previous vessel. This ship had not been meant for transporting goods. She hadn't ever gathered the reason for their trek, not fully, but she suspected it might have something to do with the Vincanans and their mistaken belief about their freedom.

  Where they trying to determine who was loyal to Tenoch Proper, and who might be persuaded to turn against Atlan and the throne? The thought infuriated Vivian, but her worries were more concerned with her immediate future.

  She hid by the door, ready to duck out of sight, but no one came here way. Gradually, the footsteps and the low murmurings all ceased, but Vivian knew better than to depart now. Most likely, at l
east a few crew members remained to clean the vessel.

  Sure enough, only a few minutes passed before she overheard muffled sounds of a conversation. Not bothering to try to discern their words, Vivian instead waited until she heard nothing at all. A good hour passed before she felt confident enough to slip out of the hold, onto the ship, which she disembarked as swiftly and quietly as could be.

  From there, she raced across the sand to the nearby palm trees. She did not slow down until she was once again hidden. For tonight at least, she would live under the moonlight, the stars. Tomorrow, she would figure out, well, tomorrow.

  She had smuggled some of their food stores before she had fled, and she munched on them as she scouted out a better location to rest. Honestly, it felt strange to be walking on a flat surface. The steady rise and fall of the sea had slowly become natural to her to the point that the land seemed too boring, too plain, even awkward.

  The palm trees wouldn't hide her for long. To the north, she spied a village she might check out in the morning. For now, she headed southward. Lucky was on her side as she found some crumbling ruins that would shield her from the sun once she rose and would also serve to conceal her so that she might sleep without fear of discovery.

  In theory.

  In actuality, it took some time for Vivian to fall asleep. She had been on the boat for so long that the comforting sound of the gentle waves had lulled her to sleep many a night. From here, she would still see and hear the water, but the sight and the sound and even the smell of it was too far removed from her person. Still, she eventually stopped jerking at the sound of every small animal rushing by underfoot, the rustling of the bushes and palms, the gentle whisper of the breeze. Her eyelids grew heavier, and she succumbed.

  A gentle tickle woke her, and Vivian held up her hands to ward off the tickler. She nearly laughed when she realized it was merely a tall piece of weed.

  Thirsty and hungry, Vivian stood. She spied some animals eating from a berry bush a few feet away, and she approached and consumed some herself. They were surprisingly tart, bursting with flavor, and she ate them eagerly. Purple stained her fingers, and she walked far too the south, away from all of the ships, before turning toward the water and washing her hands.

  Now, for clothes and to learn where exactly she was. If luck were on her side, a ship would be departing, perhaps to Tenoch. Honestly, Vivian was ready to return to Atlan, whether or not Noll's killer had been uncovered. Vivian missed her home and, more importantly, her sister.

  She crept farther to the east, away from the shore and the ships, before crossing northward toward the village. One of the houses looked unoccupied, and she watched for several long minutes and then crossed over. Peeking past an animal hide window, she saw no one inside and entered. It took her some time, but she found only a white tunic and tan trousers.

  With a grimace, she took the clothes, departed the house, and returned to her sleeping post so that she might change without being witnessed. Did some of the women here not wear dresses and gowns? Would she be the only female wearing trousers here as she would be back home?

  Concerned and uncertain, she headed toward the town, keeping an eye out for any Vincanans, especially the women. When she saw some ladies dressed similar to herself, she felt a rush of relief but only until she noticed they all carried spears or swords or bows and arrows.

  Are they preparing for war?

  One woman spotted Vivian and crossed over to her. Up close, Vivian realized she was only a few years older than her, perhaps of a similar age as her sister. Red dots had been painted under her eyes and along the bridge of her nose. To her relief, Vivian realized that the other women marching eastward did not all have paint on them.

  "Aren't you going to come train?" the woman asked. "Where's your sword?"

  Vivian thought quickly. "I was going to. My mom and I… We were attacked—"

  "Attacked?" The young woman blinked her eyes. "By whom?"

  Vivian shook her head. "Not who. What."

  "Ah. A wolf?"

  "I… I barely got away with my life. My mom…" Real tears burned Vivian's eyes, and she glanced away.

  "Do not cry," the woman admonished. "Tears are for the weak. For you to have survived means you are strong. Unless…" A question and some serious doubt clouded the woman's expression.

  Vivian scowled and narrowed her eyes, her hands clenched into angry fists. "I did what I must to survive. I would have saved her if I could. She did not die because of me."

  No matter what her father had thought, Vivian had not unknowingly and intentionally killed her mother. Unfortunately, women sometimes died when giving birth. For many long years, Vivian had blamed herself but no longer. Her mother had been a bright and vibrant, caring woman, and Vivian would not allow her mother's sacrifice to go in vain.

  "My life will continue on," Vivian said, her voice growing stronger, louder, firmer. She nodded as if to reinforce her words. "I will do all I can for the sake of the land."

  Which land she meant was not the same that the woman would think, but Vivian would not denounce her of her error.

  The woman appraised Vivian critically for a long moment as if determining whether or not Vivian spoke the truth.

  "You are far too passionate," the woman said eventually. "Emotions have no place on the battlefield. It is just as well you lost your weapon."

  Vivian crossed her arms. "What says you should determine what I can and cannot do? Have you faced a wolf and lived?"

  The woman huffed. "I see no blood on your clothes. I do not know if I can believe your claim."

  "Doubt me if you wish. I do not care. Believe what you wish. The others are departing. Go."

  The woman lifted her eyebrows, wonder and skepticism shining in her dark eyes. After a curt nod, she walked off.

  No, Vivian had not faced a wolf, at least not one in animal form. Sabine, in some ways, was like one, her mother Greta as well. Whoever had killed Noll had most certainly been a wolf in disguise. Vivian had survived them all, but for how long and to what end? Her life did need meaning, and she must find a way to blend in for the duration of her stay here on Vincana. None could learn who she truly was, not with the Vincanans mistakenly believing themselves to be independent of Tenoch Proper.

  Since it truly seemed as if every woman and girl above the age of eight was heading eastward with a weapon of some kind, Vivian hunted high and low for a true tree instead of one of those palm trees. When she found a long, thick branch, she did her best to pick at the one edge to try to sharpen it.

  A shadow crossed over her, and something was shoved at her face. A hand grasping a blade, the hilt held out for her. Startled, Vivian glanced up to see the woman from before. Although she had seen others whittle at wood before, Vivian never had before. She clumsily tried a few strokes before the woman sighed, retrieved the knife and the branch, and fashioned a spear out of it. The entire exchange without a single word, the woman thrust the makeshift spear at Vivian, and the two fell into line with the others.

  For hours, the group of women marched. Their numbers swelled as women from other villages joined them. Eventually, they settled in a field but only long enough to consume some berries and nuts. Then, they returned to marching.

  Two more days like this followed before they reached Staston, the capital city of Vincana. The city was almost directly south of Atlan. So very close to returning home, to the castle. And yet so very far away. Without a ship, she could not go back to the throne.

  A striking man in armor rode up on a grand horse that also adorned armor. With ease, the man dismounted and removed his helm.

  Er, her helm. The warrior was a woman.

  "You know who I am," she barked in a fierce voice. "I would thank you for joining us, but why bother? You must do what you are called to do, and Vincana has need of you. The men will go off to fight for us, and we will defend our home as well as we are able. That is to say as well or even better than the men could have managed had our roles been revers
ed."

  "Horatia Ramagi," one of the nearby women murmured to one of the youngest girls gathered.

  The girl blinked her dark eyes. She did not seem shocked or eager or worried at all. She was as stoic as the rest of the female warriors gathered.

  Vivian was beginning to understand why the first woman had been so shocked by Vivian's display of emotion. The Vincanans seemed to be emulating the men and women from Maloyan. Vivian knew those from up north were as stoic as possible. Dancing with Bjorn Ivano, the champion of the most recent joust, had been a strange exercise. His lack of emotion had been rather off-putting.

  Were the Vincanans always like this? Vivian hadn't thought so. She had heard stories of lavish feasts and them eating until the point of nearly needing to retch, yet none of the men or women appeared obese, so perhaps those stories had been exaggerated.

  "The various villages you are from all train differently, but now, you will all be trained under me. We will work hard. We will mold you. We will break you. We will give birth to you again, not as a girl or a woman but as a warrior of Vincana. You will bring us great honor, and that begins now."

  Several other mounted female riders appeared. They spread out through the wide crowd of females and organized them into columns and rows. After some stretches supposed to help warm the muscles, whatever that meant, the women and girls were reorganized once again, this time by the weapons they had brought.

  One of the mounted armored warriors noticed Vivian's makeshift spear. She approached and wordlessly held out her hand. Vivian did not hesitate to hand over the weapon.

  "Who are you?" the woman asked, her words short and clipped.

  "Cateline Locke," Vivian said without hesitation.

  "And where are you from?"

  "A small town. I want to help. I will do my part."

  The woman pursed her lips, and faint lines appeared at the corners. "This edge is sharp enough to reach the brain through an eye socket, but do you have the strength to do so?"