by Jenny McKane
“Minna,” she called gently. “I heard that you are sick. I have brought you some broth to help you.”
The younger woman sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. “Thank you, Mother,” she said. “But I am not hungry at all. I have been sick the whole morning, and the thought of food makes me feel even worse.”
Mother Asta brought the broth over to her and picked up a spoon from a side table. “This is healing broth,” she said gently. “It will not pain your stomach, and it will help you.” She dipped the spoon into the bowl, and then she held it against Minna’s lips. “Just a few mouthfuls.”
The woman leaned forward, sipping from the spoon. Mother Asta dipped the spoon into the broth a few more times, and Minna drank it before collapsing back onto her cushions.
“You will start to feel better soon,” promised the Mother, putting the bowl down. “This is an old remedy, passed down from my grandmothers.”
Minna smiled weakly. “Thank you again. I feel bad that I wasn’t able to go on the mission with them today.”
Mother Asta leaned over, smoothing stray strands of damp hair back from Minna’s face. The woman was sweating still, but she seemed less fevered. The broth was working its magic already.
“You mustn’t feel guilty,” said Mother Asta slowly. “It is out of our hands when sickness strikes. You would be no use on the mission, Minna, feeling like you do. In fact, you would be a hindrance.”
Minna nodded slowly. “I suppose you are right. I would hardly be able to sit in the saddle, never mind being able to think and react quickly. However, it is disappointing.”
“Minna,” said the old woman, taking her hand. “You have fought long and hard, all your life. You have never stopped fighting. Perhaps the Goddess is giving you a chance to rest and think. These times of reflection are just as valuable as the times for courage.”
Minna smiled. “Thank you, Mother Asta. I will ponder your words, but now I fear that I must sleep again. I can hardly keep my eyes from closing.”
“Sleep,” said Mother Asta, letting go of her hand. “The broth will start to heal you.”
She stood up, gazing down at the woman. Minna had already closed her eyes and turned to the tent wall, curling up into a ball.
Mother Asta sighed. The broth would help the woman, as would sleep. She felt a flicker of guilt, but she let it pass by her. She had done what she did for the greater good.
She had given Minna a sleeping draught the night before. This was not unusual; Minna often complained of being unable to sleep properly, especially before going on a mission. It was in Minna’s nature to be restless and alert. She found it hard to be still.
Only last night, she had put something else in Minna’s draught—something that would make her ill and unable to accompany the others on the mission. Mother Asta was skilled in the use of these herbs and knew exactly how much to give the woman. Although Minna appeared very sick, Mother Asta knew that it was temporary, and the broth that she had just given her would counteract the poison very soon.
There would be no long-term effects. Minna would start to feel well again before the day was out. The sickness had just bought enough time for her not to go on the mission.
Mother Asta sighed again. It was unlike her to meddle in people’s personal lives. She might give advice, but she believed that everyone must work it out for themselves. However, it was different in this case. Skyresh and Avalon were making a mess of things, and there was a higher purpose. Mother Asta had been meditating, and she knew that Avalon needed that close relationship with her general to defeat what was to come.
Minna stood in the way of that.
Mother Asta knew what would happen if the woman had gone on the mission. She would have stuck to Skyresh like glue, not letting Avalon and the man talk and reconnect. If they had found times to do it, despite her, she would have sought to undermine them. Minna still perceived Avalon as a threat to her relationship with Skyresh, and her instincts were correct.
Minna’s breath evened out, as she fell deeper asleep. Mother Asta knew that this was good for Minna, too, even though the woman would not acknowledge that. Minna was too obsessed with Skyresh, and it was obstructing her power as an Anasta warrior woman. She had potential to be great, but she was too stuck in her personal battles and her rivalry with Avalon. She had to realize that the power of the Anasta came from supporting her fellow warrior women, not undermining them—especially her queen.
Minna was young, Mother Asta reflected. She had not been alive when the Anasta ruled the realm. She did not understand the power of the sisterhood.
Mother Asta walked out of the tent, smiling to herself. Yes, this was exactly what Avalon needed. There were many ways to fight a battle—and not all of them involved swords or arrows.
***
They rode for the entire morning, deciding to stop to rest the horses as the sun approached its zenith in the sky. Beside a small stream, they dismounted and led the horses to the water.
Avalon smiled, watching Hansa wade into the water. The wolf yelped at the coldness, shaking her fur vigorously.
“You silly girl,” said Avalon, laughing. “There is ice in that water, you know.”
It was too tempting, Hansa replied. I have been running for hours, and I am hot, my queen.
The wolf ran out of the water, laying down beside Avalon. She reached out, laying a hand on the animal’s wet fur. Too late, she realized that Hansa was about to shake herself again. Avalon squeezed her eyes shut, as droplets of icy cold water rained down upon her. She squealed.
When she opened her eyes, Skyresh was standing above her, smiling.
“It looks like you have been doused,” he said.
She smiled up at him. “She always does it,” she said, gazing back at the wolf. “She loves to shake her fur after swimming, right on top of me.”
“Do you want some food?” Skyresh asked, sitting down beside her. “It is around lunch time, I think. I know that I am hungry anyways.”
Avalon grinned. “When are you ever not hungry, Skyresh?”
He gazed down at her, his blue eyes gleaming. “You know me well. I must admit, I do like my food.”
“You are good at foraging for it, too,” said Avalon. “Remember how you would find food for us all when we were in the deserts of the Outlying Zone? I was never as good at it as you.”
“Someone had to keep you alive,” he grinned.
She was suddenly conscious of how close he was, lying next to her. She watched his hands, resting on his stomach. Such large, strong hands, she thought slowly. She could see scars along them. She knew that the rest of his body carried scars, as well. He had been fighting for a long time, and they were as much a part of him as his vivid blue eyes and long fingers.
Her eyes swept over him. The blue tattoos on his neck had faded and were barely visible now. Again, she remembered when he had held her hand, as her own tattoos were being administered.
“What are you thinking about?” he whispered softly.
She smiled. “I was thinking of my initiation,” she said. “How you stayed with me when I was being tattooed. I don’t think that I would have endured it, if not for you. There were times when I almost told the man to stop.”
He took a deep breath. “The pain has a purpose,” he said slowly. “The symbols are powerful. Sometimes I still cannot believe that you are one of us, let alone our queen.”
Avalon sighed. “Yes, I sometimes cannot believe it either,” she said. “I never dreamed how my life would turn out. I expected to be a Grey Guard, fighting for the realm for the rest of my life, but that was not my destiny.”
“No,” said Skyresh softly. “It wasn’t. And I knew that, instinctively, from the moment that I first laid eyes on you, hiding in that tree trunk in the Outlying Zone.”
“I thought that you would kill me,” she said, gazing at him. “I thought that you wouldn’t even let me speak.”
“That was the plan,” he said slowly. “But life happens while you
are busy making plans, I guess.”
She pondered his words. They were truer than he realized, on so many levels.
“Sometimes, I miss it,” he said suddenly. He gazed over the stream, not looking at her. “I miss us, travelling the deserts. I know that we were under threat and had a mission to accomplish, but still.”
She held her breath. “I miss us, too.” She glanced at him, taking a deep breath. “But you are happy now, aren’t you, Skyresh? You have Minna.”
He kept looking at the water. He didn’t reply.
“We must eat,” he said eventually, reaching for his bag. “I have some bread and fruit. What would you like?”
She sighed then turned to him. “Just some fruit. And then we should keep travelling.”
He nodded, passing her an apple. She reached out to take it, and their hands touched. She felt the electricity coursing between them, so strongly that she couldn’t help but gasp.
Don’t look at him, she told herself. She took the apple and bit into it, gazing over the water.
She heard him stand up and watched as he wandered over to where Brunn and their new travelling companion, Niko, sat further along the water’s edge.
Do not be sad, my queen. She heard Hansa, speaking in her mind.
She looked down at the wolf, lying beside her. How did the animal always know, how she was feeling?
How can I be sad, she replied, when I have you beside me, my dearest friend?
The wolf yelped softly. Avalon placed her hand on her still wet fur, stroking gently. This journey was going to be challenging…in more ways than one.
***
Disella walked into the darkened room, sweeping her eyes over it. Yes, it had been prepared exactly as she had specified. At least some of these people were efficient and knew how to get things done.
There was a narrow bed in one corner and the usual furniture, but that wasn’t what interested her. Her eyes alighted on a small table to the side. A large, deep bowl had been placed upon it. She walked slowly towards it, staring down. It had been filled with water, as she had requested.
She thought of the men, still sitting around the kitchen table. Useless, all of them. She couldn’t believe that her father had surrounded himself with such people. No wonder the Far North had been defeated. They were all sycophants, skilled in flattery and self-preservation. Not one of them had the power or the vision to really tackle the problem.
Then there was the dark-haired man. Everard Varr. Of all of them, he would prove the most useful, but not in the way that he anticipated.
Disella leaned over the bowl, breathing in deeply. It had been prepared just as she had specified. She could see herbs floating on the surface and smelled the faint aroma of frankincense. Three drops, she had told them. No more, and no less.
She stared into the water, concentrating. She blocked out all the sounds of the house and the woods outside from her mind. In her peripheral vision, she could see the flickering of the wick of the black candle, rising toward the ceiling.
Come to me, she whispered in her mind.
The still water in the bowl started to move, just a little bit. Disella kept gazing into it, until it started to swirl around, almost like water being thrown from a bucket down a drain.
She started to see something. What was it? Yes, she could discern it now. It was the high-peaked mountains that she had travelled through on the way here. She could see the snow at the top. And then she saw a stream.
There was a wolf, lying on its side. It looked like it was wet, as if it had just been swimming. The wolf yelped and opened its yellow eyes, staring around. It sensed that something was watching it.
And then, Disella saw the woman. She was lying down, too, and she was eating an apple. She was dressed in a regular tunic for travel, but Disella could see the small circlet of gold atop her head.
Her heart lurched in triumph. It was her! The Rebel Queen. It was uncanny, as if she were staring into a looking glass. They were so alike as to be almost identical.
It had worked. Not that she had ever doubted it. Disella had been in training for years, after all; ever since the Black Witch had been defeated. And her powers were reaching their peak. There was a loud clap of thunder, filling the room.
Disella smiled slowly, as she stared at the queen.
The waters swirled violently, whispering to her.
She’s coming.
Chapter Nine
Skyresh peered down at the weathered map in front of him then raised his head, peering at the sky. Dark clouds swirled overhead, and there were flashes of fork lightning behind the mountain.
“This is unusual,” he said, frowning. “Thunderstorms don’t usually happen at this time of year and at this altitude.”
Avalon shivered, standing beside him. The sky was ominous. She felt goose bumps prickle her skin. It wasn’t just the imminent thunderstorm; it was as if she were sensing a dark presence.
“How much longer?” she said, staring at the map.
“At least half a day,” Skyresh replied. “This safe house of theirs has been well hidden in a very remote part of the realm, a heavily wooded area accessible only by dirt tracks.” He paused, staring at the sky again. “I think that we will need to find shelter for the night. The storm is about to hit, and it looks huge.”
Avalon frowned. “Can’t we travel through it?”
Skyresh turned to her. “There isn’t any point,” he said. “These tracks are remote and not well maintained. We must ascend before we get to the wooded area. A storm will make travel impossible.”
As if to underscore his remark, there was a loud clap of thunder. Avalon jumped. Hansa looked at the sky and started to howl. Avalon could sense her fear. The wolf didn’t like thunderstorms at all and would usually hide somewhere until it had passed. Avalon nodded slowly. For Hansa’s sake alone, they must find shelter.
“Let’s do it then,” she said, mounting Sidsel. The horse was also skittish, prancing where she stood.
The first raindrops were slowly falling by the time they found a large cave, tucked away into the side of the mountain. It was deep enough for the animals to shelter in, as well. Not for the first time, Avalon was grateful that Skyresh knew this terrain so well. Her general had traversed these mountains since he was a child.
They built a fire and clamored around it, seeking warmth. Hansa had collapsed next to it and fallen into a light slumber. Sidsel and the other horses stood further toward the entrance, their heads nodding at each other, as if they were speaking. Brunn and Niko had ventured deeper into the cave, eager to explore.
“It’s disappointing,” said Avalon now, putting her hands closer to the fire. “I had hoped that we could be there before the day was out.”
Skyresh shrugged. “We can’t control nature, Avalon. If the conditions aren’t right, there is little point trying to force it.”
Avalon’s lips tightened. She knew that what he said was true, but this thunderstorm didn’t feel quite right. For starters, he was right when he said that storms were unusual at this time of year. She had not lived in the Far North for as long as him, but even she knew that. And then, there was that strange feeling of impending doom that enveloped her when she had stared at the sky.
If she didn’t know any better, she would swear that the storm had been manifested by magic. But who had done it?
The flames of the fire flickered high suddenly. Avalon stared around her, her skin prickling again. Yes. There was something. She could feel it in her bones.
Her eyes strayed to her bag. Had she remembered the protection candle, that Mother Asta had given her the night before? Yes, she was sure that she had packed it, along with her amulet. She had a feeling that she should use them, as soon as possible.
Tonight, she thought to herself. After the others had crawled into their sleeping rolls, she would go to the stream nearby and perform the ritual, as the Goddess demanded. It was a protection ritual for when the dark magic was close. Mother Asta had taught it
to her. Ideally, it should happen near water, but if water was not at hand, it could still be done—although its power would be diminished.
They rationed out their food, staring into the flames. There wasn’t much talk. We are both tired, thought Avalon. It had been a long day’s travel.
“I hope Minna is feeling better now,” she said, turning to Skyresh. “What do you think was wrong with her?”
Skyresh shrugged. “Maybe something she ate,” he said. “I wouldn’t worry, Avalon. I am sure she will be fine.” He turned to her. “It is decent of you to think of her…considering.”
Avalon smiled, slowly. “Considering that we don’t get along, is that what you mean?”
Skyresh shrugged again, feeding branches into the fire. “I know that things have always been strained between the two of you.”
Avalon stared into the fire. “That is an understatement,” she said in a low voice. “We have tried to kill each other, don’t forget. And I think that she is not particularly happy that I returned and am Queen.”
“Minna respects you,” he replied, frowning. “She knows, deep down, that you are the true queen. She is a warrior woman herself.”
“That means nothing to her,” she scoffed. “Minna doesn’t feel any allegiance to me, Skyresh. Yes, she has been initiated as an Anasta warrior woman, but that does not mean she thinks of me as a sister in arms.”
The thought suddenly made her sad. It was true; Minna was a fellow warrior woman, and yet they had no bond. Avalon knew that in her mother’s time, the warrior women were bonded. Mother Asta had told her about the women’s tents, and their sisterhood rituals, where they invoked the Goddess together.
I do not have a sister, she thought to herself. There were very few women, yet, who were skilled enough to fight alongside them. It was something that had to be remedied, she thought suddenly. When they returned to camp, she would talk about it with Mother Asta. They had to bring back the women’s tents and festivals honoring the Goddess.
She thought of Silja, the little girl in the village, whose mother was dying. She had promised the woman that she would train her little girl as an Anasta warrior. She meant to keep that promise.