by Jenny McKane
The whole camp would be infected by it. Skyresh and Brunn were well loved and well respected. They would be mourned deeply, and the young boy, as well, who had gone along with them. What had been his name? Niko. His mother was a warrior here.
Mother Asta shook her head slowly. No. It would benefit no one to hear these strange rumors before any of it had been confirmed.
She walked into her tent and lay down on her bed, thinking. Her statue of the Goddess, sitting atop a stool, stared at her. Why won’t you tell me? Mother Asta thought, desperately. Oh, Goddess of Light, if there was ever a time to reveal yourself, it is now!
But the statue remained unmoving. There was no aura of light surrounding her. No vibrations. There was nothing to indicate that the Goddess was present at all.
***
The sun was sinking slowly behind the mountains. Mother Asta strained her eyes, searching the horizon. There was still no sign of Avalon and the others. Escolen had not returned either.
She saw Minna, walking ahead. Quickly, she ducked behind a pillar. She did not want to speak to the young woman again. Minna’s growing concern was not helping her. She needed to stay focused if she was to find the truth.
She walked into the temple, which lay in darkness before her. Slowly, Mother Asta walked around, lighting the candles. She lit the incense sticks, letting the sweet smell of sandalwood envelop the sacred space.
It was a makeshift temple, of course, a tent which they set up wherever they camped. It was important to all the warriors to have this. Anyone could come in and sit on the cushions before the Goddess. They could feel her presence and be comforted, and it was especially important for Avalon to be close to the source.
As Mother Asta sank into the cushions, staring up at the statue, she thought of the young woman. She had come a long way since the days after the defeat of Vyheim Castle. Avalon had been an eager and clever student, passionately learning everything that she could of the magic and how to commune with the Goddess. Mother Asta was very proud of her.
And it wasn’t just Avalon’s aptitude for the magic. The queen had a very natural way with the people, and she sought to be a just and kind ruler. She loved her people, and they loved her—which made these strange rumors about what she had done even more unfathomable.
Avalon wouldn’t treat her people like the rumors were claiming. Mother Asta was sure of it. She had known Avalon for a long time now, and she had been her mentor for most of it. It simply wasn’t in the young woman’s nature to be needlessly cruel, whatever had happened to her.
Mother Asta frowned, staring at the Goddess. She had so many questions, and so few answers. Why would a splinter group attack them? Why would a disgruntled gang of villagers randomly decided to kill their queen and her men, just when the rebellion was on the cusp of marching into the South and gaining victory over the realm? What would motivate a group to do such a thing?
It was almost…deliberate, as if it had been planned to discredit Avalon in the people’s eyes.
Mother Asta’s eyes flew open. She gasped. She felt a shifting in her mind. She could feel that she was getting closer to the truth. But what was it?
She forced herself to close her eyes again. She was getting overly excited, and she knew from long experience that nothing would be revealed before its time. She felt, instinctively, that she had discovered something, but it wasn’t the whole truth—of that she was sure.
Goddess of Light, she said. I implore you, speak to me! Our queen is in great danger, and I cannot help her without your guidance.
She let her mind clear. Once again, darkness fell before her. A great void of darkness. And yet, Mother Asta could feel the Goddess, hovering just beyond it. It was as if the Goddess yearned to break through it but could not.
It was a spell, she suddenly realized. It was a powerful spell that was stopping the Goddess from being revealed. The dark magic was afoot—once more.
Mother Asta sighed deeply. She should have expected that this day would come. The Jarle had not had a powerful sorcerer since Avalon had defeated the Black Witch in the Outlying Zone. The rebellion in the North had succeeded in a large part because of that. She had repeatedly said that they should not become complacent, but it seemed as if that had happened.
She had tried to prepare Avalon: she had initiated her and taught her as much as she knew, all the spells, the rituals, and the chants that the Anasta had gathered over centuries. But it seemed as if something more was needed now.
She could not help the queen—at least not like this.
Mother Asta opened her eyes. There was no point in trying to invoke the Goddess until the nature of the spell that they were battling was revealed. However, she knew one thing: it was powerful, and it was playing itself out right now with all these rumors about Avalon and the fact that they had not returned.
It was the dark magic at work, and she could do nothing but wait helplessly.
***
Mother Asta stepped out of the tent just in time to see riders flying towards the camp, heading from the mountains.
She strained her eyes to see who it was, her heart thudding wildly.
Then, she saw. It was Escolen and the group of people that he had led into the mountains. The large man didn’t look happy. He was sitting stiffly in his saddle and frowning.
Then she spotted another rider, some distance from the main group. Galloping alongside them. The choice to ride separately seemed deliberate.
Mother Asta’s eyes widened. It was Avalon!
She started running, as fast as she could toward the riders. She could see other people in the camp had seen them, too, and were gathering to greet them.
“Praise the Goddess!” cried Mother Asta, as soon as the riders had pulled up and started to dismount.
Escolen sighed, walking towards the old woman.
“Mother,” he said, bowing his head. “We found her.”
“So I see,” said Mother Asta, straining her neck to see Avalon on her horse. The queen had slowed down to a canter and was slowly making her way towards the group.
Escolen followed her gaze, still frowning. “She is…different,” he said slowly. “She claims that it was necessary to do what she did. It is true, Mother. Skyresh, Brunn, and Niko are all dead.” He hung his head, overcome with emotion.
The queen pulled up her horse, smiling at the crowd gathered around.
“My people,” she cried, her smile widening. “It gladdens my heart to see my warriors again after such a trying time!” She slid down from the horse.
Everyone was silent, confused. Eventually, Minna broke away from the group, walking slowly towards the queen.
“Where is Skyresh?” she said wildly. She craned her neck to see if anyone else was riding towards them.
The queen sighed. “I am afraid that he did not make it,” she said sadly. “Nor the others. We were ambushed by a group of villagers.” She took a deep breath, as if for courage. “I barely escaped with my own life.”
“NO!” Minna stared at the queen, shaking her head from side to side. “It cannot be! I would have felt it in my heart if he were gone…”
The queen gazed at her. “And yet, it is so.” She placed her hand on the young woman’s arm. “I have avenged him, I assure you. Those responsible have paid the price.”
The crowd stared at the queen, disbelieving. They started muttering amongst themselves.
“My people,” the queen cried again. “I will explain everything, but first I must rest. I have been travelling hard for days, and I am about to fall on my feet. You do understand, don’t you?”
The crowd nodded, subdued. Minna was crying so hard she collapsed onto the ground. Mother Asta flew to her side, putting her arms around the young woman, trying to comfort her.
“Mother,” whispered Minna. “It can’t be true, can it?”
Mother Asta stroked her hair, soothing her. “Come. We will take you back to your tent, and I will prepare you something to help with the pain.”
The queen turned to the Mother, assessing her with her large dark eyes. She smiled sadly and sighed.
Another woman broke through the crowd, her eyes wild. It was Niko’s mother.
“My queen,” the woman cried. “Please, tell me it isn’t true!”
The queen gazed at the woman. “I am afraid it is. I will talk about it tomorrow, as I have said. I must retire. Good night.”
The queen walked away from the group towards the main tent. Mother Asta stared at her. This was so unlike Avalon, to turn away from the pain of her people. And did she detect a hesitation in her walk, as if she were unsure of which direction to go in?
The queen had not greeted her either. Usually, Mother Asta was the first person that the queen would seek out after a trip. She would have expected that the queen would want to speak to her privately about what had happened, but Avalon had not even acknowledged her.
Mother Asta stared after the queen, her arms still around Minna, who was weeping piteously.
Something was wrong. Very wrong. And what had happened to the others, and the subsequent incident with the villagers, was only part of the problem.
What had Escolen said about her? He had frowned and claimed that the queen was different. Mother Asta hadn’t had time to think about it until now, but it was true.
Mother Asta felt a chill, sweeping through her bones.
Chapter Fourteen
Avalon put a hand against the cold pane of glass at the front window, watching snowflakes swirling in the air outside. She tightened her cloak around her, shivering.
She had awoken that morning to see a thick blanket of snow on the ground outside the house. The Long Cold was here, well and truly. They had run out of logs to keep the fire lit. Skyresh had stoked it this morning, sighing in frustration.
“This is the last of it,” he had said, throwing some logs onto it. “I think that we will be in danger of freezing to death.”
She turned her head from the window, watching the fire flickering so low that it was almost out. Already the temperature had dropped in the house.
She stood up. They were not going to freeze to death. She walked into the kitchen, grabbing the axe along the way. And then she hacked into a kitchen chair, picking up the wood and carrying it to the fire. The flames lengthened, as she fed the wood into it.
“We will run out of furniture eventually.”
She looked up. Skyresh was standing there, watching her.
Avalon tightened her mouth. “It will keep us going for now,” she said evenly. “The animals should be almost to the camp by now, and then the others will be coming.”
“I am worried about the animals,” he said slowly. “The snowfall overnight would have hampered their journey. It might take longer than we think.”
Avalon sighed. “They will make it, Skyresh,” she said. “We must believe that.”
“Have you tried the water bowl again?” he asked, walking towards the fire. He reached out his hands towards it, warming himself.
Avalon nodded. “It’s not working anymore,” she said slowly. “The herbs in it and the oil the sorceress added have lost their potency. It is just a regular bowl of water without them.”
“Have you checked the house to see if there are herbs and oil here that are needed?”
Avalon gazed at him sharply. “Of course I have, Skyresh. Do you think that I am stupid?”
“Avalon, don’t,” he said gently, reaching a hand out to her. “I am only trying to help, you know that.”
She stared down at his hand on hers, sighing. “I’m sorry, Skyresh. I am just so frustrated!”
Everard walked into the room, staring at them. “Has there been any word?”
They both turned from the fire, gazing at him. Avalon shook her head slowly.
“I am sure they will make it,” he said softly.
“No thanks to you!” barked Skyresh, his eyes narrowing. “If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be stuck here.”
“Skyresh, don’t,” said Avalon quickly.
But Everard straightened his shoulders and nodded. “I know you are angry with me, Skyresh,” he said. “And I accept what you are saying. You are right. If I hadn’t have come here, you wouldn’t have been lured into this house.”
“There is no way of knowing that,” said Avalon, frowning at Skyresh. “Even if you hadn’t come, we would still have travelled here to find out what this meeting was about, and we would probably have come into the house and become imprisoned, just the same.”
“You are the bad penny,” hissed Skyresh, staring at Everard. “You just keep showing up and sabotaging everything that we attempt to do!”
Everard paled. “I get it,” he said slowly. “But you must realize, Skyresh, that I was spellbound. I didn’t remember anything about any of you.” He took a deep breath. “And the sorceress made me call out to Avalon. I didn’t want to do it!” He tightened his fists.
Skyresh stared at him, eyes narrowed. He took a deep breath, and then he stood up.
“Where to from here, guardian?” he said quietly. “If we manage to get out of this prison, of course. I know what I would like to have happen to you, but Avalon won’t allow it, I’m afraid. Whose side are you on now?”
Everard sighed. “I cannot go back,” he said, staring out the window. “They used me to get to you. They used all of us.”
Avalon stared at him. Was Everard finally seeing the Jarle for what they truly were?
“I want to fight alongside you,” said Everard, gazing at Skyresh. “I know that you don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you. But enough is enough. I have turned a blind eye to what really happens in this realm long enough.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I was born Stromel, you know, but I never saw a way to defeat the Jarle. I thought that my only chance in life was to become one of them.”
Avalon nodded. “I knew that it was something like that,” she said softly. “When Mother Oda told us that you were born with another name, I knew. I was always waiting for you to tell us.”
Everard’s eyes glittered with tears. “They killed my father,” he whispered. “They were going to kill us all. They locked us into the local hall and set fire to it. It was to contain the spread of a sickness that had swept through my village. I would have died if I hadn’t taken the opportunity that was before me.” He swallowed, hard. “I took the identity of the man who killed my father, and I never looked back.”
There was silence in the room.
“They killed my father, too,” said Skyresh slowly. “I watched him hang, with my mother at my side—and then she died from a broken heart.”
Avalon stood up. “We have all of us suffered at their hands,” she said, looking from one man to the other. “They killed my family and stole me, raising me as one of their own. They lied to me my whole life.” She took a deep breath. “We are going to get out of here. And we are going to stick together and finally defeat them. In memory of all of our loved ones.”
“In their memory,” said Everard slowly.
Skyresh nodded his head. “In their memory.”
***
Mother Asta shivered, watching the snowflakes falling heavily through the tent curtain.
“Good morning, Mother.”
She turned around quickly. She had not heard the queen approaching.
Mother Asta studied her carefully. She had spent a fitful night, tossing and turning. Sleep had eluded her. The same questions were going around and around in her mind, but no answers.
She had given Minna a strong tonic, and the young woman was still sleeping. The whole camp was subdued. She couldn’t hear any of the usual laughter or horseplay. It was as if a pall of grief and sadness had been laid over the camp.
“My queen,” said Moth
er Asta slowly, gesturing her respect. “Are you able to speak to me about what happened?”
The queen walked into the tent, indicating that the Mother should follow her. Mother Asta watched her sit down on her chair and turn and smile at her.
“What do you want to know?” she asked, gesturing to the seat next to her.
It wasn’t Mother Asta’s chair, but she didn’t comment, simply sitting down on the chair that Brunn had once claimed. At the thought of the large, jovial man, Mother Asta’s heart constricted. Was he really dead?
“Avalon,” she said, staring at her. “I need to know.”
The queen nodded. “Well, we were on our way to the house when were ambushed.”
“By a group of villagers?”
“Yes.” The queen tossed back her hair. “They said that they had come from Krokr, a village nearby. They told us that we were useless and needed to die. Skyresh and the others fought them, trying to defend me, but I am afraid that they were overcome.”
“And you escaped, riding away?”
The queen nodded. “They pursued me, but I was quicker! I rode to the nearest village and sought the help of the local mayor.”
Mother Asta frowned. “You decided to confront them with a posse of villagers? And execute them in front of their people?”
The queen nodded again. “They had to be dealt with straight away, Mother! Surely you see the necessity of it. I needed to set an example.” She took a deep breath. “And I was angry, of course, and desired vengeance.”
Mother Asta sighed. “It was hasty, Avalon,” she said slowly. “You did not consider the ramifications of acting so hastily? That you would anger the villagers?”
“Why should I care about that?” she replied, staring at the Mother. “They killed my men! They were intending to kill me! I would have thought that you would be as angry about it as I am and say that they deserved everything that they got.”
Mother Asta nodded slowly. “I am angry,” she said. “Of course I am. I am also grief stricken. However, there is a process, Avalon, of which you are fully aware. Marching into a village and dragging people to the woods to hang them in front of a crowd is not how we do things. There are courts to deal with this.”