The Seventh Daughter

by Frewin Jones

  “We must give them aid!” snarled Cordelia, scrambling to her feet. She stood on the clifftop, turning away from the battle and whistling shrilly. Moments later their four horses came heaving and scrabbling up the hillside. Brandishing her sword and shouting challenges down to the Gray Knights, Cordelia leaped astride her horse.

  Tania stood up and took the reins of her own horse, aware that Edric and Zara were also on their feet. She flexed her knees and sprang up, using her hands to boost her onto the horse’s back. A few moments later all four of them were mounted. Tania saw Edric and Zara draw their swords; gripping the makeshift reins in one fist, she pulled her own sword from her belt. She glanced sideways at her companions, seeing the fierce bravery in their faces as they prepared to ride into battle. Her own courage seemed to have deserted her.

  We are so dead! It would take hundreds of us to beat them!

  Then she heard Eden’s voice in her head. It is a wishpearl. If you find yourself in harm’s way, take it in your palm and wish for what you need.

  Would the wishpearl be powerful enough to conjure an army? Tania imagined how a mounted tide of Faerie knights might go thundering down the slope of the cliff and sweep the Gray Knights into the sea. It had to be worth trying.

  “Wait!” she shouted. “There’s another way!” She fumbled in her clothing for the wishpearl and drew it out, warm in her closed hand. “I wish for a Faerie army,” she said loudly. “I wish for them to appear up here on the cliff and for them to charge down at the Gray Knights.” She brought her arm down, releasing the wishpearl so that it was dashed to the stones beneath her horse’s hooves.

  It broke into a thousand tiny fragments. There was a weird sound like the faint laughter of many small voices and a wisp of blue-green smoke curled upward. Then there was a rushing noise like a hurricane. Tania felt her clothes snapping against her body; her hair whipped across her face. She was almost torn from her horse’s back as it shifted under her, its mane flying, its hooves seeking firmer purchase on the rocks.

  And then, from out of nowhere, they were surrounded by a host of Faerie knights on horseback. They were wearing the same seashell armor as the knights of Caer Kymry, and each of them brandished a sword or spear.

  Tania felt a wild exhilaration as the horsemen began to move forward, urging their mounts over the lip of the ridge and down the precipitous slope that led to the bay.

  “We must ride with them!” Cordelia cried. “Battle is joined.”

  But Zara caught her arm. “No! Wait! Let them rout the filth of Lyonesse ere we risk our lives.”

  They watched from the clifftop as the Faerie army went galloping across the stony ground toward the castle. It was hard for Tania to accept that they were an illusion—they looked so solid and real, with the rumble of hooves and the clatter of their armor and their war cries ringing out across the bay. Tania wondered how many knights the wishpearl had conjured. Five hundred? More? It was hard to tell. But one thing was certain: The charging army far outnumbered the Gray Knights.

  Seeing the Faerie horsemen thundering toward them, the Gray Knights at the landward end of the causeway broke off the fight with the knights of Caer Kymry and fled toward their ships. The rest of the Gray Knights went streaming back after them, many leaping or wading into the sea, none of them daring to stand up to the tide of oncoming horsemen.

  Tania saw one Caer Kymry knight stand tall in the stirrups brandishing a barbed sword and rallying the others to give chase to the fleeing enemy. More Faerie knights poured out of the gates of the castle, galloping along the causeway and throwing themselves on the creatures of Lyonesse as they ran. Flaming arrows were fired toward the ships. Some fell short, but others found their mark.

  “It is a rout!” Cordelia declared, her eyes shining. “Come, let us join with them.” This time no one stopped her as she urged her horse down the steep slope. Tania, Edric, and Zara followed close behind, the salt-wind in their faces as their horses galloped sure-footed over the rocks.

  But before they reached the battlefield, Tania saw that the mystical Faerie army was faltering and wavering, so that now she could see the beach and sea through their fading forms. She watched in dismay as the entire host dissolved away into mist.

  “No! Come back!” she shouted, afraid that the Gray Knights would take new heart and turn to fight again. But it was too late for the knights of Lyonesse to recover. One of their ships was already burning fiercely. The knights of Caer Kymry had destroyed the majority of the undead creatures of Lyonesse, catching them as they struggled through waist-deep waves, and were busy turning the remainder back to the dust that had spawned them.

  The Faerie knight that Tania had seen rallying the troops had come to a halt on a sea-lapped boulder and was staring out over the scene of the battle. Tania assumed at first that it must be some brave captain, but when she looked closer, she saw that long dark brown hair hung from the helmet almost to the knight’s waist. And at that moment the knight turned toward them and Tania realized that it was her sister Princess Hopie.

  Seeing them for the first time, Hopie let out a shout of joy and sprang from her horse, running toward them with her arms outspread. Tania and her sisters met her on the white sands, Zara dancing up and down in excitement and Cordelia letting out high-pitched whoops of joy. Even Hopie’s usually solemn face was wreathed in smiles.

  “Now I understand the appearance of the phantom army,” she said with a laugh. “It was one of Eden’s glamours, was it not? Is she with you?”

  “No, but she’s safe,” Tania said. “She’s in Esgarth Forest with Titania.”

  Hopie’s eyes shone. “The Queen is in Faerie! That is good news, indeed.”

  Another rider came cantering up to them: a tall, broad-set man with deep dark eyes and a brown beard. It was Hopie’s husband, Lord Brython. He leaned on the pommel of his saddle, smiling at the princesses. “Well met, sisters-in-law,” he said. “This battle is over, at least. What news from the south?”

  “There’s a lot to tell you, my lord,” said Edric.

  “Then the Princess and I offer you our hospitality,” he said. “You look as if you have spent many a night in the wilds. Come, mount again and follow me—you shall tell us your tales within the steadfast walls of Caer Kymry.”

  XII

  Caer Kymry looked to Tania as extraordinary on the interior as it had from the outside. She gazed around in amazement as they walked along a curved, winding corridor with rounded, rippling walls that shimmered with a mother-of-pearl radiance. Seashell torches lit the way, filling the air with a diffused light that played over carvings of crabs and seahorses and painted shoals of multicolored fish that coiled up the walls and over the ceiling and down underfoot in a rush of dazzling iridescence.

  A long winding stair took them to a high turret room with windows that overlooked the ocean. The room reminded Tania of the inside of a sea urchin shell, segmented and hollowed with ribbed growth patterns that corkscrewed to the pointed ceiling. The walls were decorated with things taken from the sea—brightly colored shells of all shapes and sizes: periwinkles, whelks, murices, and conchs, mussels and cockles and clams. There were dried starfish and curiously shaped pieces of coral and ocean-smoothed stone displayed on the windowsills, and the coverings on the seats were decorated with pictures of sea creatures and twining seaweed.

  They rested on couches while servants brought them food and drink. Once they had eaten there was the promise of hot baths and soft beds—but first Lord Brython and Hopie shed their armor and sat with them, dressed now in simple clothes of brown silk. Brython told them how the two Serpent ships had arrived with the dawn and how the Gray Knights had attacked the castle, losing many of their number in fruitless assaults on the walls, before withdrawing and planning the fiery attack that Tania’s wishpearl army had thwarted.

  “Why were there only two ships, my lord?” Edric asked. “The news we had was that there was a whole armada on its way.”

  “I would guess that these were
but scout ships, sent to test our resolve,” Brython said. “If the armada is on the move, as you say, then I do not believe it will make landfall in these parts. It will sail along the south coast and the armies of Lyonesse will disembark at Caer Marisoc, and make their way across Udwold to join up with the Sorcerer.”

  “Or they may round Rhye Beacon and enter the estuary of the Tamesis,” said Hopie. “There is deep-water at Fortrenn Quay, sufficient to harbor a hundred ships.”

  Now it was time for the travelers to tell the princess and her husband all that had happened over the past few days, both in the Mortal World and in the palace.

  “We had to get rid of the black amber, or the dogs would’ve caught us,” Tania explained at the end. “And then I freaked out and totally forgot the bag we had the metal in—the Isenmort, I mean.” She looked despairingly at Hopie. “The whole idea was to use the black amber and the Isenmort to rescue the King. But that plan’s pretty much wrecked now.”

  “I brought them here in the hope that you would have some small store of black amber,” Cordelia said. “Legends say it was once so.”

  “Alas, we have none,” Brython said. “It is true that the great castles of Faerie once held such treasure under lock and key, but it is long now since all the black amber was removed. Did you not know? It was the black amber of the ten Caers that was used to decorate the crowns of Oberon and Titania.”

  “No, I did not know that,” Cordelia said with a grimace. “I have led us on a fool’s errand.”

  “I think not,” Hopie said. “Do not forget, dear sister, had you not come here when you did, then the filth of Lyonesse might be feasting even now in these chambers.” She smiled. “The fates weave their webs in contrary ways, their subtle ends to perform.”

  “You speak as might Sancha were she here,” said Zara. “And you are right: Eden’s wishpearl did indeed save Caer Kymry and all within, but that gets us no closer to fulfilling our task. How are we to rescue our father from Ynis Maw?”

  Hopie frowned, and sat in thoughtful silence for a few moments. “The Tapestry of Fidach Ren may hold the answer,” she said at last. “Come, I will show you.”

  They followed Hopie and her husband to another chamber. It was smaller than the first, and windowless, the pearly walls lit only by candles. A tapestry hung on one wall. Tania was intrigued by it—she knew that Faerie was a timeless place, and she took it for granted that she was constantly surrounded by people and things that had existed for thousands of years, but this tapestry was the first thing she had seen in the Immortal Realm that looked truly ancient.

  It was threadbare and frayed at the edges, its colors faded to dull brownish hues, so that it was quite tricky at first to make out the picture. But after a few moments, Tania realized that she was looking at a very stylized depiction of a landscape—or, rather, at a long finger of rocky land that jutted out into a green sea. On the vague horizon she could just make out a dark shape like a sharp-edged mountaintop pushing up out of the water. But something else caught her attention. There were things in the air above the land. Things with wings. She moved closer, narrowing her eyes to try and make sense of the flying shapes. Insects, like large dragonflies, perhaps? No, the shapes were all wrong for that.

  She let out a gasp. They were slender flying people. Not Faerie children but full-grown people with gossamer wings sprouting from their backs. Tania vividly remembered the wings that had grown from her own shoulder blades; she had never forgotten the wonder and joy of flying. Looking at the winged folk in the tapestry brought the experience back to her with a pang of intense loss.

  “This tapestry is ancient beyond all understanding,” Hopie began, and her voice was no more than a reverent whisper. “The land it shows is Fidach Ren in the far north of Prydein, and the sea-girt island is Ynis Maw.”

  “Ynis Maw?” Tania echoed. “That’s the place where Oberon is being held.”

  “What are these flying creatures?” asked Zara.

  “There is a script that runs around the tapestry,” Hopie said. “It is in a very old language, but much of it can still be read. It tells of an elder race that dwells in the wild land of Fidach Ren, and refers to them as the Karken En Ynis Maw.”

  “What does that mean?” Tania asked.

  “It means the Keepers of the Black Isle,” replied Hopie.

  “Legend suggests that these creatures have some ancient bond that links them to Ynis Maw,” Brython added. “And also that they are the custodians of an arcane and secret knowledge.”

  Hopie looked at them. “If anyone in Faerie can aid you in your quest to free our father, then I believe these wild folk may hold the key, although they are said to be a strange and dangerous people.”

  Zara peered more closely at the tapestry. “But can they be real? And if ever they were real, is it possible that their race lingers on in the wild north?”

  “There are a lot of strange creatures in the mountains of Prydein,” Edric said. “The people of Weir hardly ever travel north of the River Lych, and even the folk who live in Caer Circinn in Minnith Bannwg keep to the eastern shores.”

  “Twenty-five leagues of mountain-land lie between us and the straight road north,” Cordelia said. “And from there Fidach Ren lies over a hundred leagues hence.” She looked at Hopie. “We must leave now if we are to stand any chance of success. Can you give us food and water and blankets for the journey, and mayhap fresh horses?”

  “You cannot leave without rest,” Hopie said.

  “And why take the arduous path by land at all?” said Brython. “One of the Serpent boats still lies on the beach—mayhap you could sail it north along the coast? We can supply you with trusted mariners to guide your way.”

  Zara smiled, and Tania noticed there was a gleam in her blue eyes. “Mariners, you say? Nay, brother-in-law, we shall need no mariners. Give me but a tall sea-facing rock to stand upon and I will sing up a whale to speed our northward passage.”

  Cordelia nodded eagerly. “And I shall impart the urgency of our cause to it,” she said. “The whales of these waters are noble beasts—I doubt not that one of their number will aid us. Northward, ho!” she exclaimed.

  “But even the greatest necessity must wait on fatigue,” said Brython. “You will bathe and sleep one night in Caer Kymry before you set sail.”

  “Very well,” said Cordelia, her eyes shining. “But we depart at dawn!”

  XIII

  Tania was awoken by Edric’s voice. He was leaning over her, his face lit by a candle that shone through a lantern made from translucent shell. Beyond the sphere of candlelight the room was dark, the air sibilant with the murmur of the sea.

  “What time is it?” she murmured. “Is it morning yet?”

  “It’ll be dawn soon,” he told her.

  She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Give me a couple of minutes.”

  He waited outside the chamber while she splashed some water on her face from a clamshell bowl and then got dressed. She was surprised and pleased to find that her traveling clothes had been cleaned and dried overnight.

  “Did you sleep well?” Edric asked as they made their way down a long twisting stairway.

  “Like a log,” she said, taking his hand. “You?”

  He nodded. “It was odd waking up and you not being the first thing I saw, though,” he said. He gave a wry smile. “I sort of got used to that.”

  She paused on the stairs and met his gaze. “Me, too.” She reached out and took his hand, looking deep into his warm brown eyes. “I wish…”

  “What do you wish?” he asked softly, moving closer.

  “I wish we could have had more time together before this had to happen.” She frowned. “It feels like we haven’t had a moment to…to…enjoy each other, you know? But that’s typical me: I fall in love and—bam!—it’s the end of the world!”

  “It’s nothing like the end of the world,” Edric said, grinning suddenly and lifting his hand to stroke her hair. “I don’t rate the Sorcerer King’s chanc
es much—not up against the two of us and your sisters and the Queen and King Oberon and the whole of Faerie.” He shook his head. “He’s toast!”

  Tania laughed and squeezed his hand. “You bet he is!”

  They kissed, and for a few precious moments Tania was almost able to fool herself into believing it could be true.

  “I love you so much,” Edric whispered. “The Sorcerer King isn’t stronger than that. Nothing is stronger than that.”

  She held his gaze, biting her lip to stop herself from telling him how terrified she was that all the love in the universe wouldn’t be enough to hold back the Sorcerer King’s ruinous hatred.

  She took a long, slow, calming breath. “Are the others up yet?” she asked, turning and continuing down the spiral stairs.

  “Yes. As far as I can tell, Cordelia’s been up for hours.” He looked uneasily at her. “There’s some news: Zara isn’t coming with us.”

  Tania stared at him in alarm. “Why not? Is there something wrong with her?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. She’ll explain.”

  Lord Brython and the three princesses were waiting for them on a balcony that looked out over the western ocean. It was still dark, and to the east, the great hump of Half Moon Peak filled half the sky. A table was set for breakfast, a meal of fish and cheese and new-baked bread.

  Tania sat opposite Zara. “Edric says you’re not coming with us.”

  “No, indeed,” Zara replied. “Hopie awoke me early and I have spoken long with her and Brython. I have a new duty to attend.”

  “If we are to hold Faerie against the coming of the ships of Lyonesse, we will need to gather all our forces together,” Brython said. “Princess Zara has agreed to travel south into Mynwy Clun with a few of my trusted knights, where she will make contact with Earl Valentyne and ask for his aid.”

  “Eden’s husband?” Tania said. “But why does Zara have to go? Can’t you send someone else?”