by N M Zoltack
Dutifully, Rase selected a spot near where the tournament would be held. Several tables had been roped off for when they began, and Rase had to wait longer than usual to be approached even though he held up the coin until his arm ached.
The serving girl at least smiled apologetically. "I beg your pardon," she said breathlessly. "So many here tonight. So very busy. Don't you worry, though. The food is plenty hot and plenty of it. Want the stew in the bread bowl? Or a lamb leg?"
"Whatever this will get me," Rase said, handing over the coin.
The serving girl smiled again and nodded before scampering off. She was much older than Frieda, the tavern owner’s daughter at the Jolly Snapdragon, but the serving girl still reminded him of Frieda. The younger girl had been so kind to him until that incident with Linton nearly destroyed the tavern. Rase never intended for that to happen, but it still almost had. He doubted he would ever see Frieda again.
Rase was shocked and pleased when the serving girl brought him over both a bread bowl and a lamb leg as well as watered-down ale. He had eaten his fill earlier, but the food smelled delicious and tasted even better. In no time at all, he had cleaned up his plate.
By then, the roped-off tables had been filled, and the tournament was starting. Rase casually stood, sipping from his cup as he shifted to a different seat. Bucca was staring hard at one man in particular, and Rase slowly made his way over to position himself so that he could see that man's cards. Considering how closely the man held the cards to his breast, it took Rase a long moment to spy that this man did indeed have a dragon card. How had Bucca deduced that? After taking a long swallow, Rase touched his left ear.
Bucca cleared his throat. "Piers, it's time I be stealing a card from you."
Even though Rase could only see the man's ears, he noticed how the tips turned bright red, especially when Bucca beamed having selected the right card.
Rase drained his cup, and the serving girl helped all those at the table before coming to him. "More to drink?" she asked.
"I don't have another coin," Rase said miserably.
"Don't worry," she said. "We'll be making so much from them…" She tilted her head toward the card players. "Another drink won't hurt any."
Rase grinned at her. "Thank you," he said.
He felt obligated to wait there until she returned, and from the dirty looks Bucca sent his way, Rase knew he had to get back to earning his keep. As soon as she handed him the refilled cup, Rase wandered around until he spied another dragon card. This time, he rubbed his nose.
Again, Bucca stole the card, and the man, furious, called out, "Legend."
Bucca calmly revealed not one card, not two, but all of them. Even with minimal help from Rase, he had managed to win the round.
The other players cursed. One drained his cup and slammed it back down onto the table. Rase moved away until the dealer shuffled the cards and dealt them again before closing in, walking around, making sure to hover a bit behind those without dragons, his back to the players. Rase had noticed a few glancing his way, and he did not wish to be caught. Nothing would happen here like it had at the Jolly Snapdragon.
The next two rounds, Bucca won courtesy of Rase, but the boy noticed that the next hand, Bucca ignored him entirely. The others were beginning to become suspicious, and the card player was smart enough to back off some. Rase couldn't help growing excited. The number of coins on the table for the growing windfall was amazing. Even if Bucca only gave Rase a tiny portion, Rase would still make serious progress toward being able to secure an apprenticeship. Things could not look brighter.
Bucca did win the round after, and without warning, a guard stepped forward to stand next to the best-dressed player at the table. Rase hadn't even realized a guard had entered the inn.
"No one here is a fool," the guard said.
"I do not know what you mean," Bucca said smoothly. "Of course no one here is a knave."
"You've been cheating this entire night," the guard continued.
"Cheating? How?" Bucca yanked on his sleeves. "I have no cards hidden on me."
The guard pointed directly at Rase. The boy swallowed a large gulp of his ale and began to sputter. His throat burned, and he slapped his chest.
"You, Bucca Reizel, are under arrest by I, Sir Edmund Hill," the guard continued.
While the guard handled Bucca, Rase dropped his cup onto a random table and shifted around the other customers to reach the door. Another guard was heading his way, but Rase fell to the ground, crawling under tables and around and even in between legs to reach the exit. He raced out of the inn and didn't look back.
So much for Rase's bright future. For the moment, the only bright spot was that he had managed to avoid being arrested. What would happen to his family, to Maxine whose belly continued to grow as the baby inside grew too? They were counting on him to help provide, and now, Rase would have to discover a new method to secure them all food.
But how?
22
Queen Rosalynne Rivera
The days and weeks had been trying to say the least, and all Rosalynne longed for was a few years ago, before her father had begun to rely on her so heavily for every little task. It wasn't toward the end that he required her to do even the most difficult and trying of tasks, including the ones that only the ruler should ever have to attend to.
Namely, the executions.
Deaths of all kinds were not easy to handle, but to be the cause of another's life ending… Her father's wife, Aldith, should have been the one to handle such affairs, but no. She had been too busy having her own affair, cheating on the king.
Was that when everything had begun to fall apart? Most likely or was it because her father hadn't been able to deal with his grief over losing his first wife? Rosalynne could hardly believe how profound his love had been that years later, even after he had married another, her father had still adored and worshipped her mother. That love was capable of most anything.
Rosalynne knew she would never have the chance to experience that kind of love, at least not directed toward another. No. In her opinion, she had to believe that the best ruler would have that love for her kingdom and their kingdom alone. Nothing to distract her. Nothing to prevent her from her duties.
Besides, if there was anything this past year had taught her, it was that love was painful. Between losing Bates the baby, her father, Noll… Although she had never been close with Aldith, even the loss of the former queen had changed Rosalynne's life drastically.
I'll never be happy again.
Rosalynne blinked away her tears. She had been reading a missive from Etian. The news was boring and tedious, but then she was the ruler of all of Tenoch and Vincana, at least until the war came and destroyed Tenoch Proper and all her father had built.
All he had built and then abandoned.
Uniting the continents and islands had been an impressive feat, especially since there had not been a war to claim the lands. Keeping them all combined, however, was another matter altogether.
A pang in her chest would not go away. She felt it day and night now, and she knew it to be grief. As much as she did her best to throw herself into her royal duties, whenever she was alone, all of the loneliness came back to haunt her.
If only her loved ones would haunt her instead.
And Vivian, where was she now? Ulric Cooper had helped Vivian to escape the castle once news about Noll reached him. Rosalynne hadn't even met the servant until after he came back alone. While she was most grateful that he had the foresight to remove the princess from possible harm, Rosalynne also missed her sister terribly. They had their share of fights and disagreements over the years, but Rosalynne would give anything to have one more argument with Vivian. She would allow her sister to borrow or even have any piece of jewelry, any dress, any slippers, heeled or not.
Noll, sweet Noll… The prince had been too good for the world. Yes, he had been trying in his own way, acting more like a young boy than a teenage royal, but that h
ad not been his fault. Rosalynne had to admit that she had sometimes been agitated that she had to repeat herself constantly to her brother, but he tended to be distracted often. She was envious of that now, wishing she could better control her thoughts. As times, remembering her family and happier times brought a rare smile to her face. Most often, though, she wondered and worried why she lived when they had died, missed them terribly, and could focus on nothing but her guilt and sorrow.
Guilt for so many reasons, because of missing her loved ones but also because the threat of war was so very real. So many still living needed her yet. She should not allow herself to be distracted.
Putting aside the letter, Rosalynne returned to the books she had been reading before the messenger had brought her the news from Etian. There had been plenty of wars that had been fought since the dragons had fallen nearly one thousand and five hundred years ago. Some claimed the dragons never existed. Regardless of the validity of the stories, the first year in their calendar began the year the dragons were said to have all been slain. None could say with any degree of certainty how many years predated their first year.
Most of what she read was written by the victor, the winning side of the war. Naturally to be sure but all they address was the battles they won, the causalities they had forced the other side to sustain. Nothing was written about an actual battle strategy.
Just then, a knock sounded on the door to her royal chambers. Rosalynne sighed and shut the useless book.
"Come in," she said, wearily rubbing her forehead.
The door opened, and Wilfrid Frye, Rosalynne's guard, entered. He ran a hand through his blond hair, and he squinted his blue eyes.
"What is the matter?" Rosalynne asked, sweeping to her feet from the desk she had been sitting, the skirt of her gown falling to cover her ankles.
"You forgot to eat again, haven't you?" the guard asked softly.
Had she? Rosalynne glanced down. Her gowns were fitting her a little looser than normal lately. Between stress and grief and worry, her appetite was lacking.
"Thank you for caring about me, Wilfrid. I will have some food sent to my room." She moved to reclaim her seat until she realized the guard was not bowing or making as if to leave. "Is there something else?"
"You, ah…"
"Wilfrid, you may speak plainly." Rosalynne inhaled, doing her best to calm herself, but she hid her shaking hands behind her back. Her nerves were getting the better of her lately. All of the rounds with Sabine, avoiding Greta, endless meetings… questioning any who comes forward with suspicions about who may have murdered Rufus Vitus. Not to mention writing letters and reading ones from Ulric. Rosalynne wished she could dare revisit the prisoner. There was no doubt in her mind that Ulric had not killed her brother. No. He had been arrested in secret precisely because the other queen wished to use him if need be. To protect herself? To protect another? That was what Rosalynne and Ulric were attempting to deduce. She feared for Ulric daily as she highly suspected Sabine was trying to use Ulric for leverage of some kind.
"I know you visit that prisoner sometimes," Wilfrid said slowly.
"What of it?" Rosalynne asked, managing to keep her tone civil. There was nothing wrong with her seeing Ulric, and if the guard thought otherwise, he should keep the opinion to himself.
"I take it you haven't heard then."
Rosalynne shivered, but she stood even straighter. "What might I have not heard?"
"Ulric Cooper is to be executed on the morrow."
The queen's jaw dropped, too shocked to recover in time to hide her emotions. Not that she felt the need to hide them from Wilfrid. She trusted her guard with her life.
Who could have set this into motion? Why now? To try to show Vincana that we can locate murderers? Not guilty ones, however.
Rosalynne shook her thoughts away. "Thank you for informing me," she said stiffly. "If you will excuse me…"
She rushed over to the door, past him, entered the hallway, and did not stop until she came to the quarters of Aldus Perez. He advised both her and Sabine, so it made him a logical source to go for answers. While Rosalynne trusted her guard, she did not share that sentiment with the advisor, not on all matters at least.
Her knuckles rapped against the hard wood and then again.
The door opened. The advisor granted her a tight smile. As ever, his blond hair was slicked back, his face shaven like always.
"My Queen," he said with a bow. "I would invite you inside, but that would hardly be appropriate."
No, not at all, but then I wouldn't be the first queen to be in your chambers, would I?
Rosalynne could feel herself grow pale at the thought. Had Aldus Perez been the one to impregnate Aldith? She hadn’t thought about who could have been the father to Bates before.
"We can speak here, like this," Rosalynne said.
Aldus lifted his eyebrows, His dark eyes were large, but he widened them even more. "Is something the matter, My Queen?"
"Have you heard that there is to be an execution?"
"Yes."
"Why was I not informed?"
"This is not a particular matter that I—"
"Ulric Cooper has not had a chance to defend himself," Rosalynne protested. "I do not even know what he is charged with."
Aldus's eyebrows rose even higher. If not for his slicked back hairstyle, his eyebrows would have been hidden by his hair. “You do not know what he is charged with?” he asked dubiously.
"You and Sabine have well kept me uninformed," she snapped.
"I would have thought…"
"I would prefer you think a tad less and speak a tad more."
"But only if I speak to you and no others."
Rosalynne bristled, her fingers curling into fists. "If you speak to no one save for me, you will not be a useful advisor then, would you? Stop this dance of your tongue."
"Ulric Cooper is believed to have killed your brother," Aldus said reluctantly.
"What makes you think he is the one?" she demanded. "I do believe I asked for proof."
"He confessed—"
"Why was I not present for this?" Rosalynne asked coldly. "How am I to believe anything you say, Aldus? You cannot serve two queens. You have proven that time and again."
"The matter of the taxes—"
"Is not enough, and it is only hurting our people that much more."
"With war coming, we will need even more coins—"
"We are speaking about one man's life," she said firmly.
"A man believed to have killed your brother. Do you not want to see your brother's murderer brought to justice?"
"Most certainly I do, but my brother's actual murderer, not someone you and Sabine had pinned the blame on. That is what is happening?"
"Certainly not!"
She almost smiled at finally having unnerved the normally self-possessed and composed advisor.
"Then you will do your best to secure proof of this Ulric Cooper's guilt, or else you will delay the execution," Rosalynne said firmly. "I may have presided over far too many executions in my father's name, but if I am to sentence a man to death under my own name, that man will have been found guilty, and no one would be able to believe otherwise."
Aldric nodded slowly even as he said words that made Rosalynne's hope wither. "I do not know if the execution can be halted. Already, the people know—"
"You will do as I say," Rosalynne said through gritted teeth, "or else you will become as powerless as you are suggesting yourself to be this very moment."
Rosalynne whirled around and stalked off. Not at all becoming of a queen, but at the moment, she did not care. Ulric Cooper was innocent of this charge, and Rosalynne would do whatever she must to ensure the man did not die for a crime he did not commit.
If only she could locate proof of the actual murderer… But perhaps Aldus was right on one account. Perhaps there was no proof to be found.
23
Queen Sabine Grantham
The evening meal was
a relatively peaceful affair. Rosalynne, the younger queen, hardly ever showed, and that night was no different. This suited Sabine just fine as she hated that reminder that another could claim the title of queen.
One day, hopefully soon, that title would be Sabine's and Sabine's alone.
For once, Sabine's mother did not speak as much as she typically did, between all of her schemings. As much as Sabine hated to admit it even to herself, she did not trust her mother. In fact, she was convinced her mother wished for the crown herself.
Why then hadn't her mother tried to convince King Jankin to marry her instead of her daughter? Sabine would never understand.
Unless her mother assumed that the kingdom would be divided between the two queens. Unless her mother sought to eliminate both Sabine and Rosalynne. Unless her mother was that cruel and ambitious.
All along, Sabine knew her mother was ambitious. Sabine shared that trait, but not to the degree that Greta claimed. To kill Noll like that… Sabine's stomach churned.
Her mother gave her a knowing smile. "What is bothering you?"
"Not a thing," Sabine said.
"You made a most unbecoming face."
"Considering we look very much alike, are you suggesting your face is also unbecoming?"
"Sabine, you are the ruling queen. I suggest you act like it at all times."
As I am the ruling queen, I suggest you treat me with more respect.
Sabine nodded curtly and held her tongue. Only a few maids stood against the walls, waiting to leap forward if either showed any signs of needing assistance. Guards stood by the doors, ensuring nothing happened to Sabine or her mother. Otherwise, the room was empty.
This was not how Sabine had imagined her queendom. She had thought there would be far more balls, that even when there were no dances, the dining hall would be filled to the brim with her adoring subjects. Instead, she was relegated to eating with her mother and no other.