by Jenny McKane
Yes, she had lost another, but it had been coming for a long time, as Minna had said. She should have sensed that this was going to happen. Did she really expect that Skyresh was going to wait for her forever? That he would hang by her side, seeking any crumbs that she chose to throw to him? He was a proud man. A strong man. He could never be a queen’s consort.
She sat up high in the chair, gazing around the tent. If he wanted her at the commitment ceremony, she would go. She would even smile. She would bless both he and Minna and wish them a happy life together. And then, she would go to her bed and cry in private.
She was a queen. This was her life. And this was her chair.
She would never let anyone sit in it again.
Chapter Six
Everard tore through the forest on his horse, swerving around trees precariously. He had to crouch low over the horse to avoid the arrows whizzing above his head. The woods were a blur in his vision.
Heart thudding, he skirted a low embankment, narrowly avoiding sending the horse into a ditch. That would be all he needed – crippling his horse so that he had to dodge his attackers on foot. Deftly, he pulled in the reins, sending the horse to his left.
The sun had lowered behind the mountains, and the light was darkening. Soon, it would be pitch black—not ideal conditions to be outrunning rebels. He cursed himself and his stupidity. He shouldn’t have gone into that shop in the village. The woman there had obviously recognized him; she said that his face looked familiar. She must have alerted them that he would be travelling through the woods.
A rebel sympathizer, he thought, bitterly. That statue in the store should have alerted him to the fact. He had regular meetings about the fact that the rebellion was growing in the South; many times, his operatives had stressed that more people were receptive to the insurgents. It was why Agnor had reinforced the laws regarding minor breaches.
He should have taken the time to report her to the local authorities. She would have been dealt with and had no time or opportunity to inform her comrades of his movements.
Too late, now, he thought, as he dodged another arrow. He crouched lower, spurring the horse to go faster. He had two advantages in this situation: one, he was on horseback and his attackers were on foot. He could outride them; he was sure of it. And the second was the fact that it would be dark soon. It made it harder for him, but it also made it harder for his attackers. They would not continue to pursue him when they couldn’t see.
He concentrated on putting as much distance between him and them while there was still light to see. Eventually, he was confident enough to slow the horse down to a canter. He could feel the beast trembling from exertion, and a fine sheen of sweat covered its coat. He hadn’t had to dodge any arrows for at least half an hour, and the moon was shining bright in the dark sky now.
His next problem would be where to set up camp for the night. The woods were unfamiliar to him, and his attackers obviously knew them well. The horse, while an asset when escaping them, was hard to hide. He would have to pick a spot very carefully.
He came to a high ledge, gazing out over the woods. He could barely see anything anymore, but was that a flickering of torch light in the distance? He squinted his eyes, studying it. Yes. And there were more besides it. They bobbed in the dark of the night like tiny stars.
It was the watch on the High Wall, he realized suddenly. He had ridden further than he thought, and it was not far now. Should he keep going until he got there? It would be safer than camping out here for the night. His fellow guardians on the southern side would protect him; they probably had a hut of some sort where he could bunker down for the night.
He took a deep breath, considering. He would have to descend in the dark. It was risky but in the current circumstances what choice did he really have?
He picked his way down the hillside, trying not to make much noise. Even the snap of a twig or a branch could alert the rebels of his whereabouts, if they were still pursuing him. After a painstaking hour, he finally reached lower ground. He set the horse to a gallop. He could see the High Wall, not far from here.
As he approached, he could see the guardians raise their arrows.
“Halt!” called one. “Dismount now and identify yourself.”
Everard slid off the horse, putting his hands high into the air. The guardians ran forward, circling him.
“I am Commander Everard Varr,” he called to them. “From the city. I am travelling north and seek sanctuary for the night.”
A guardian assessed him slowly. “Take off your sword and lay it on the ground.” Everard did so, backing away slightly from the sword.
“Papers?” The guardian narrowed his eyes, his bow raised.
Everard retrieved his identification from his pocket, handing it to the man. The guardian glanced at it then indicated that he move forward toward the Wall.
Under flickering torchlight, the man studied him further.
“Why aren’t you wearing your uniform?” he asked.
“I am travelling to a safe house in the north,” replied Everard. “Under Agnor’s orders. In the current circumstances, we thought it best if we didn’t advertise the fact that I am a guardian.”
The man continued to study him. “I haven’t had any word that you would be travelling north,” he said slowly. “Usually we get word if a high ranking Jarle is to pass through.”
Everard bit his lip in impatience. “No. There hasn’t been time. The orders were sudden and immediate, and like I said, it was for strategic purposes that no one knew my movements.”
A guardian, who was walking the Wall, approached them. “I recognize him,” he said. “I saw him when I was posted in the city. It is Commander Varr.”
The guardian, who still held his identification, smiled. “Welcome then, Commander Varr. You would have had a rough time of it, travelling through these hills in the dark.”
Everard smiled, too. “Yes, it was hard going,” he replied. “But I am afraid I had little choice. I was ambushed by a group of rebels and had to keep going.”
The guardian frowned. “There has been a lot more activity recently,” he said. “We have had a lot of reports of gangs of rebels on the southern side of the Wall. You should have had an armed escort, at least.”
Everard sighed. “It is a top-secret mission,” he said. “I need to travel alone. I wouldn’t have approached the Wall tonight, if I hadn’t been attacked.”
The man nodded. “We have the guards’ hut, where you can sleep for the night. It’s pretty rough but better than sleeping in the woods crawling with rebels.”
He led Everard to the hut, and they stepped inside. Everard saw that the man wasn’t exaggerating. It was rudimentary. There were a few narrow bunks, where the guardians could sleep after or between shifts, and a single table in the center of the room. Empty bottles and a dirty plate lay upon it. The guardian followed his gaze and shrugged.
“We weren’t expecting important guests,” he said. “It’s a lonely life out here, Commander Varr. We don’t have a housekeeper, and we often have to react quickly. The Wall is constantly under attack.”
“I’m not judging you, Guardian,” said Everard, sitting down at the table. “I know what it’s like in the wilderness. Remote outposts are hard work.”
The guardian nodded. “Like I said, it’s been harder recently. The southern Stromel are restless, sir. We’ve all noticed it. Bands of rebel sympathizers are constantly trying to find weak spots in the Wall.”
Everard glanced at the man sharply. “I have seen reports,” he said. “You think that they have had word from the North, and are preparing for an attack from them?”
The man nodded, again. “We think so. They aren’t trying to scale the Wall, just looking for spots where the Northern forces might gain easier access.”
“A reconnaissance,” said Everard, frowning. “And have they found any weak spots, Guardian? Any particular places where we need to be extra vigilant?”
The man sighed. �
��The High Wall extends across the entire interior of Agnoria,” he answered slowly. “We patrol it, but there are bound to be spots where we miss. But to answer your question, I am confident the Wall is secure. We have the extra safeguard of the force rising from it.”
Everard nodded. He knew about what was commonly called the force. It was an invisible barrier, rising from the top of the Wall to the sky. It was similar to the barrier that had been erected around the Outlying Zone. It was woven by magic, of course. So far, it had been very effective. The northern rebels could not hope to scale the Wall, and it kept out their flying creatures, as well.
“They might hunt for weak spots,” continued the guardian, “but we are quick to find out. Even if they opened one, they wouldn’t get far. A few of the northern rebels might gain entry, but it would be near impossible for their entire forces to pass through. We are on to it, Commander Varr.”
Everard nodded again. “I am sure you all do a superlative job, Guardian,” he said. “I haven’t seen much in the dark, but you are vigilant.” He yawned. “I might have a closer inspection tomorrow, when I can see.”
The man nodded. “We would be proud for you to inspect it,” he said. “In the meantime, can I offer you some food and drink before you retire? We don’t have anything fancy, but it would do the job.”
Everard smiled. “That sounds excellent,” he said. “I haven’t had time for an evening meal.”
The man walked to a cupboard, taking out some bread and cheese. Then he turned and took down a bottle of stout. He cleared the table and placed the food and drink in front of Everard.
“I will leave you to it, Commander,” he said, walking towards the door. “I have to resume my duties.”
“Thank you,” said Everard.
The man left, and he stared down at the food on the table. A sudden weariness overtook him, and all the muscles in his body started to ache. It had been a long day of travel, and then there had been the attack. He reached down, pulling off his boots. He would sleep well tonight.
After he had finished his meal, he crawled into one of the bunks. The blanket scratched him, as he pulled it over, and the pillow was lumpy, but he was too tired to care. At least he wasn’t out in the woods, having a fitful sleep, jumping at every noise.
The situation was worse than he thought. He had seen the reports, but it was different actually being out here. He could sense the danger all around. The southern Stromel were rising; that much was obvious. They weren’t being overt yet, but they were definitely being fed information from the North. And he knew that this was how it had started in the North – small groups of rebels, using guerrilla tactics to undermine the Jarle.
He closed his eyes, turning to the wall. Agnor’s instincts had been spot on. The great leader knew that something was coming; that was why he was launching a counterattack. What that would entail, Everard had no idea yet, but it would have to be something big. Even with the force surrounding the High Wall, the chance of the Northern rebels invading the South was a distinct possibility.
Everard knew that they practiced magic. They had their Mothers, who were trained in the old craft. They would be training more, now that they were liberated in the Far North. It would only be a matter of time before they unleashed this magic against the force, hoping to break its power.
He thought of the Rebel Queen. The former Avalon Lund. There were whispers that she had been taken as an infant from her real family, who were the former queens of the realm. No one said it out loud, of course. That would be committing treason. According to the Grey Book, which was Agnoria’s sacred text, the Jarle had ruled the realm since the beginning of time. To say that there had once been other rulers here was sacrilege.
But Everard had heard the rumors just the same. It was part of his job, to listen to what the common people were saying. It was how he gathered information. Not that he believed it, of course. It was all a mishmash of folk tales and superstition.
Still. His eyelids grew heavier. If the people believed that Avalon Lund had a divine right to rule, that was powerful, whether it was true or not.
She was dangerous. His primary mission had to be to stop her—at any cost. With their queen gone, the people might lose focus. She was a symbol of hope to them. If that symbol was cut down, then the whole rebellion would surely crumple like a house of cards.
***
Avalon glanced up quickly. Mother Asta had just entered the tent.
The old woman gestured to Avalon. “My queen.”
Avalon stood up, walking towards the Mother. As much as she hated to admit it, Minna had been right. The old woman looked frailer than ever. A pang of guilt swept through Avalon. Was she pushing her too hard, forcing her to accompany them while they camped? And relying on her too much?
Mother Asta smiled. “I am alright, Avalon. I can sense your worries about me, but I am stronger than you think. I do not intend to depart this world before complete liberation of our people has happened, I can assure you.”
Avalon took her hands in her own. The skin was paper thin.
“I know how committed you are,” she said, staring into the old woman’s eyes. “But sometimes the flesh is weak, even if the spirit is willing. Tell me if this is too much for you, Mother. I don’t think that I could bear to lose you.”
Mother Asta’s eyes softened. “You will not lose me, child,” she whispered. “I know that you still grieve for Mother Oda, who helped you so much during your time in the Outlying Zone.”
Avalon’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes, I do,” she said slowly. “She was as old as you are. The spells were too much for her in the end. They took all her energy.” She bowed her head, thinking of her.
Mother Asta smiled. “The Mother gave her energy willingly. She knew that this was no time to tread carefully. You don’t realize, Avalon, but the older generation remembers what it was like when the Anasta ruled the realm. We feel the urgency of our mission even keener than the younger folk do.”
Avalon smiled, blinking away her tears. “Mother Oda would chide me, just as you are.” She took a deep breath. “Mother, I had another vision when I was in one of the temples in a village. I must speak of it with you.”
The old woman blinked, staring hard at Avalon. “Tell me.”
Avalon sighed. “The Goddess appeared, of course,” she said slowly. “I asked for her to show me the way to defeat the magic of the High Wall, as always.”
“And what did she say?” Mother Asta stared at her intensely.
Avalon frowned. “She said that to overcome the High Wall, I must confront the woman who walks alongside me.” She took a deep breath. “She also said that this woman will deceive a man I once called friend. And then, I saw the woman.”
Mother Asta paled. “What did this woman look like? Did you recognize her?”
Avalon’s heart skipped a beat. “Mother, it was like looking into a mirror. The woman looked almost exactly the same as me.” She gulped painfully. “What does it mean? Is the Goddess saying that I am my own greatest enemy?”
Mother Asta frowned. “I do not know,” she whispered. “It is perplexing, but the Goddess said that this woman walks alongside you?”
Avalon nodded. “Yes,” she whispered back. Fear overtook her for an instant. She remembered the malevolent energy that had accompanied the vision of the woman. “The woman was dressed in black, with a circlet of thorns upon her head. They were drawing blood, which dripped down her face.”
Mother Asta gasped. “The circlet of evil,” she whispered. “You told me once that the Black Witch, who you defeated in the Outlying Zone, wore this as well.”
Avalon nodded. “I don’t understand, Mother,” she said slowly. “Is the Goddess telling me that I need to confront and defeat a dark side of myself before we can overcome the High Wall’s magic?”
Mother Asta sank into her seat, taking a deep breath. “It is possible. We know of no other who is identical to you—not yet anyway. You said that the Goddess also said that this w
oman will deceive a man who you once called friend?”
Avalon nodded, holding her breath. The only person that she could think that the Goddess might be referring to was Skyresh. He had once been a friend but was now estranged from her. It made more sense than anything else.
“I know who you are thinking of,” said the Mother slowly. “Yes, it is obvious, but I do not necessarily think that it is him.” She paused. “Tell me of your other great friend, the guardian whose memory you wiped.”
“Everard?” Avalon was frowning. “Why would you think of him? He is lost to me and has been for a long time. I doubt that I will ever see him again.”
“Do you?” Mother Asta stared at her, her gaze unflinching. “You could have killed him, Avalon. In fact, it would have been wiser to do so. He has become a commander in their army and will seek to defeat you.”
Avalon paled. “It was what Skyresh told me to do,” she sighed. “He was so angry with me when I let him go. He told me that I would live to regret it, but…I just couldn’t, Mother. He had once been a dear friend to me. He saved my life.”
“And he loved you,” said the Mother slowly.
Avalon nodded. It was painful to speak of it, but it seemed that she must. “Yes, he loved me. But that love was destroying him; it had destroyed him. Plus, why would I go to all the trouble of wiping his memory, to then kill him? I knew that he couldn’t stay with us, fighting for a cause he didn’t believe in, so I set him free.”
“To become your enemy again,” said Mother Asta. “I can see why Skyresh was angry, but I do not blame you, Avalon. Your heart is pure and true. To kill a friend would be anathema to you.”
“I couldn’t do it,” whispered Avalon.
Mother Asta sighed. “Still,” she said, lacing her fingers together. “He is out there, and he is our enemy. He was once your friend. I have a feeling that perhaps he is the one that the Goddess speaks of.”