The Seventh Daughter

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The Seventh Daughter Page 19

by Frewin Jones


  Tania looked around as people began to gather. Hopie and Brython were there, as were the Earl Marshal Cornelius and his wife and sons. Cordelia sat nearby with Zara. Earl Valentyne sat alone, both hands leaning on his cane, his eyes hooded and brooding. She also saw sad, grieving Lord Gaidheal seated with several other lords and ladies, representatives of almost every earldom in Faerie except for Weir and the far north.

  The Earl Marshal began the meeting. “Scouts have returned from the south,” he announced. “They have brought grave news. The armada of Lyonesse has been sighted off the coast of Udwold: a thousand Serpent ships, their red sails like a tide of blood upon the ocean. It cannot now be many days before a great army sets foot on our land.”

  “A thousand ships?” said Brython. “Their army will outnumber us twenty-fold. Our only hope is to meet the Sorcerer King in battle and to destroy him before the armada makes landfall.”

  “But how may we do that?” asked Corin. “He will not move against us until all his forces are arrayed, and once that is done he will come upon us with such strength that we may not be able to withstand him.”

  “Oberon will have the power to challenge the Sorcerer King once he is healed,” said Hopie. “But he is many days’ journey from here, and he cannot be made well until he is reunited with the Queen.”

  “How do we get them together?” Tania asked. “Titania is trapped in the forest. Isn’t there some way of getting her out of there so she can go and meet up with him?”

  “Not unless we can conceive of a way to draw the Gray Knights from Esgarth,” said the marchioness. “That is our only hope.”

  “Why should he withdraw from Esgarth Forest and engage in battle?” asked Earl Valentyne, his voice dry and cracked. “He will sit at his ease in the palace until all is in readiness and victory is assured.” He looked sharply at Tania and Cordelia. “How long will it be, do you think, before Oberon arrives in the south?”

  “Two days,” Cordelia said. “Maybe three. But without the Queen I do not believe he will be able to help us against the Sorcerer. We should not wait for him. We should gather all our forces and march around the west flank of Esgarth Forest. We must set up our banners on Salisoc Heath and challenge the Sorcerer to meet with us in the field.”

  “I believe the Princess speaks truth,” said Cornelius. “We must head south and make the challenge. But the children of my brother and the blessed Titania should not travel with us. They will remain here in Ravensare until the battle is done, for good or ill.”

  Cordelia’s eyes flashed. “That I will never do!”

  “I neither!” declared Zara. “I can fight with a sword as well as any knight here.” She looked at Hopie. “Would you lurk in Ravensare while others go to war?”

  “I would not,” Hopie replied.

  Tania sat in uneasy silence as the debate moved back and forth among the lords and ladies. Apart from the princesses themselves, everyone seemed to think that she and Zara and Cordelia and Hopie should keep out of harm’s way, but at the same time no one seemed to be able to come up with a method of getting the Sorcerer King to pull his knights out of Esgarth Forest. And so long as the forest was full of the Gray Knights, how would Oberon and Titania be reunited?

  Tania didn’t want to have to fight. She had seen enough of battles in Kymry Bay, but hiding away while everyone else went to war seemed so cowardly, and so utterly useless. Gradually, an idea began to form in her head—a way of getting the Sorcerer King to fight them. An idea that she didn’t like at all. She sat silently for a while, hoping that someone else would come up with a better plan.

  No one did.

  “I know what we should do,” she said.

  All the faces turned to her. She swallowed hard. “The Sorcerer King will only fight us if we offer him something he can’t refuse,” she said. “A really good bait.” She paused for a moment. “I think the only bait he’d be interested in would be us.” She gestured toward Hopie and Zara and Cordelia. “We should lead the Faerie army down to the palace. I think he’ll jump at the chance of killing four of Oberon and Titania’s daughters.”

  An uneasy murmur ran around the gathering; the only people who didn’t look shocked or dismayed were her three sisters.

  “I will not put you in such danger,” Cornelius said at last. “It is a brave offer, Tania—but an impossible one.”

  But then a quiet, strong female voice seemed to speak out of the air. “I do not agree, Cornelius.”

  “Titania?” Cornelius said, staring around.

  “She speaks from the water,” said Hopie, getting up and moving toward the raised pond. “Mother?”

  Now everyone came surging up from their seats and gathered around the pond.

  “What are your thoughts, Your Grace?” asked Brython.

  “If the princesses head our army, it will convince the Sorcerer that Oberon is not a threat to him,” said Titania. “He would see it as madness for us to go into battle without the King if we had any hope that Oberon could be restored to us. He will think that we’ve grown desperate—that we are assaulting the palace in the hope of rescuing the King from the dungeons. The Sorcerer will think we believe the King still to be there. He does not know that we have released the King from his prison on Ynis Maw and that he is on his way to us.”

  “I would not put your daughters in jeopardy,” said Cornelius.

  “I do not ask you to,” said Titania. “I ask that you give command of the Faerie army to Princess Tania. This is her moment, Cornelius. I believe that the battle with Lyonesse can only be won by her.”

  Horrified, Tania stared down at her mother’s image. “No,” she said. “That’s not what I meant. I can’t lead an army.”

  A sharp sound caught everyone’s attention. Earl Valentyne had tapped his cane on the stone lip of the pond. “The Queen is right,” he rasped. “Many ages ago, I read ancient texts concerning the Sorcerer King, books that even the Great Library of the palace does not possess. I had long forgotten them, but the Queen’s words have brought them back to mind.” He looked slowly around the ring of people. “Do you know why the Sorcerer of Lyonesse was not killed in battle by King Oberon when the serpent banners fell a thousand years ago?”

  “It is because he is enwrapped with powerful spells,” the marchioness replied. “None can end his life.”

  “Not true,” said Valentyne. “The ancient texts do not say that he cannot be killed; they say that he cannot be killed by one of Faerie born nor by the hand of a mortal.” He nodded toward Tania. “The princess was not born in Faerie, and yet she is not wholly mortal. She alone of all of us stands with one foot in the Immortal Realm and one in the Mortal World. It is my belief that only she can defeat the Sorcerer King.”

  Tania listened to him in silent astonishment, remembering that Clorimel had said something very similar, speaking of her as Alios Foltaigg. What was it she’d said? Thou art between things. Thou hast one foot on the land and one foot in the sea. The Sun is in thy right eye and the Moon in thy left. That is the engine of thy sadness and thy destiny.

  “Do the ancient texts speak of a sure victory?” Hopie asked.

  “Nay,” said Valentyne. “They do not.” He looked at Tania. “I do not say that this is a safe path, my lady,” he warned. “And I do not say that a bright future lies beyond it, but this destiny is yours, Princess Tania—if you would take it.”

  “You would not take it alone, sweet sister,” said Cordelia. “Choose this path and I shall stand at your side.”

  “And I,” said Zara.

  “I believe that all things have a purpose,” Hopie said, looking solemnly at Tania. “Maybe it is that your strange journey of life was predestined so that you alone of all of us would have the potential to destroy once and for all the threat of the Sorcerer of Lyonesse.”

  Tania gazed at her sisters, and then at the other waiting faces. Oddly, she felt less shocked than she would have imagined. It really did feel as if everything that had come before—her disappearan
ce from Faerie all those centuries ago, the mysterious procession of her past mortal lives, and her return to Faerie at this particular point—had all happened to bring her to this place at this time.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it.” She took a deep breath. “I’m ready to fight.”

  It was later that same day. The late-afternoon sun was pouring in long golden rays through the windows of a vast white chamber. The earl marshal’s son Titus had brought the four princesses here, to the Great Armory of Ravensare, to fit them for armor and weapons. At dawn tomorrow the Faerie army would be on the move.

  Tania still couldn’t quite believe the speed with which things had changed. At one moment she had been assuming that the earl marshal would have all the responsibility on his shoulders—and then, in a dizzying whirl, everything was upended and it was her thoughts and plans that everyone was listening to. She wished she had Edric to talk to, or her dad—not Oberon, but the father she had grown up with in London. He always knew how to make her feel better when events threatened to overwhelm her. But he was far beyond reach. Whom could she confide in now? She sat quietly to one side, watching her sisters. Hopie and Titus were examining a large wall map and talking quietly. Zara was practicing swinging a long crystal sword, the blade glowing brightly in the raking beams of honeyed sunlight. Cordelia was hunting among the hanging racks of armor for something suitable for the battle.

  The Faerie armor was very similar to that which Tania had seen at Caer Kymry: breastplates and shields of a hard shelly substance, ivory white on the outside and with a mother-of-pearl sheen within. And there was a whole array of shell helmets, and racks that were hung with mail made of tiny linked shells, hard and impenetrable as chain mail. Swords and spears and axes and maces were displayed on the walls and in standing frames. Tapestries hung between the long windows, showing scenes of battle—pictures of the fall of the Sorcerer King over a thousand years ago, when the Faerie armies had finally overcome him and he had been taken prisoner.

  And now he was free again, and Rathina was at his side, and Tania was trying to come to terms with the idea of leading an army into battle against him.

  Cordelia strode toward her, a breastplate under her arm. “Come, Tania, see if this will fit you.”

  Tania stood up and allowed Cordelia to strap her into the shell armor.

  “Is it comfortable?”

  “Not exactly,” Tania said.

  “But it will protect you.” Cordelia rapped on the plate with her knuckles. “And it will allow you to swing a sword.” She smiled darkly. “I have spoken with Zephyr and Tanzen,” she said. “They wish to bear us into the battle, Tania. Imagine that! Riding against Lyonesse upon wild unicorns of Caer Liel. What a thing to do!”

  “I hope they don’t get hurt,” Tania said. She swallowed hard. “I hope no one gets hurt.”

  “There is faint hope of that,” Zara said, coming up to them with the sword in her hand. “But we will give better than we receive, I trow, and by tomorrow’s eve, we will be wading knee deep in the gray dust of the Sorcerer’s vanquished army.” She spun on her heel. “Titus, come away from my dour sister now and help me to choose armor that is both sturdy and becoming.”

  Titus turned from the map and smiled. “I shall, my lady,” he said. “But the choice will be hard to make.”

  “Why so?” asked Zara, linking her arm with his and walking with him to the armor racks.

  “Because I would have you protected head to foot by armor that is a hand’s span thick,” he replied. “And yet I would not choose any covering that might prevent me from seeing the beauty and glory of your face.”

  “A sore challenge indeed, my lord Titus,” Zara said, grinning at Tania and Cordelia over her shoulder. “But all must suffer in warfare.”

  “Is there a budding romance going on there?” Tania asked Cordelia.

  “Mayhap,” said Cordelia. “It would be good if Zara were finally able to choose between the earl marshal’s two stepsons and put an end to her endless prattle about their virtues and qualities.”

  Laughing, Tania stepped up onto the platform where Hopie was perusing the map of Faerie. Her sister looked gravely at her. “You have taken on a great burden, Tania,” she said. “All of Faerie hangs in the balance now, and it is for you to tip the scales in our favor.”

  “But no pressure, huh?”

  Hopie frowned.

  “Never mind. It was a bad joke.” Tania looked at the wall map. It was incredibly detailed, with the saw-toothed mountains painted brown, the forests shaded in green and the rivers and lakes washed with blue.

  “At dawn the army will skirt the western eaves of Esgarth Forest,” Hopie said, describing a smooth arc with her arm. “We will bivouac upon Salisoc Heath.” She smiled at Tania. “It is a place of great memory and portent, for it was there that the Sorcerer’s armies were routed long ago.”

  “Then what happens?” Tania asked, lowering her voice. “I know I’m supposed to be in charge, but I don’t have any idea how to organize a battle.”

  “You have lords and generals enough at your back to array our forces,” Hopie told her. “But I suspect that we will prepare to make the challenge to the Sorcerer King at sunup the following day. That will give his scouts ample time to run back and inform him of our coming—and of the fact that it is you and I and Cordelia and Zara who are leading the army and not the King.”

  “And then?”

  Hopie put her arm around Tania’s shoulders. “Then you will learn how deep within you run the veins of Royal courage, sweet sister,” she said. “And we will do battle for the Immortal Realm.”

  XXIII

  Servants woke Tania before dawn and she ate breakfast with the earl marshal’s family and her sisters before being led back to her chamber to put on her armor. Over a light tunic of threaded shells she wore a breastplate and back-plate of flattened white shell, tied over her shoulders and at her waist. Long curved shells protected her legs and arms, and a high-pointed, curling conch shell was put on her head, the lip coming down low on her neck and curving around to protect her cheeks. Finally, she was given a crystal sword for her belt.

  She stood for some time, looking at herself in a mirror, wondering how an ordinary sixteen-year-old girl from London had turned in a matter of weeks into a princess warrior of Faerie. She smiled wryly at her martial reflection. Life can be really weird, sometimes.

  “They are ready for you, my lady.” She turned at the voice and walked out of her room. The shell armor was surprisingly light and had been carved and shaped to allow ease of movement. She followed the serving girl down through the building. Tanzen was waiting in a courtyard. Tania mounted and rode toward the gatehouse. All around her, from every window, people were cheering and throwing petals and flowers down on her.

  She didn’t know what to expect as she came out under the gatehouse. She halted, her breath taken away by the sight that greeted her.

  The slanting rays of the rising sun glinted on the helmets and spear-points of a thousand Faerie knights as they stood or sat astride their horses in wide battalions that straddled the white road leading to the main gate of Caer Ravensare. Seated on horses in front of the ranks of knights were the Earl Marshal Cornelius and Marchioness Lucina with their two sons mounted beside them, ready to lead the knights of Ravensare into battle. To their left the knights of Talebolion and Mynwy Clun were fronted by Lord Brython and Hopie and Earl Valentyne, and on the right flank Tania saw Lord Gaidheal and Cordelia and Zara, with other lords and ladies of Llyr and Dinsel and Udwold, leading a force of knights who had gathered here from many parts of Faerie. All were clad in full armor, and all were looking straight at Tania.

  At their backs the fields of poppies were a sea of turquoise and aquamarine and heliotrope, sparkling with a network of white and pearl blossoms like stars on an earthbound sky.

  After a few moments Cordelia urged Zephyr forward and trotted up to Tania. “A fine morning, sister! How do you like your army?”

 
; Tania tore her eyes from the gathered ranks of knights and gazed at her sister. “What happens now?”

  Cordelia smiled. “We ride south,” she said. “Come, your sisters and your captains await. Ride with me.”

  Tania touched her heels to Tanzen’s sides and followed Cordelia’s mount along the white road toward the waiting army. “Don’t leave me alone,” she whispered to Cordelia as they rode side by side. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Cordelia glanced at her. “That is good, Tania. I would fear for our lives if you thought otherwise.”

  They came to the end of the parade of knights, and their two unicorns began to wade into the great meadow of poppies. Tania heard a noise like thunder at her back. She turned her head and saw that the knights of Faerie were following. Moments later, as the sun climbed into the eastern sky, all the poppies suddenly burst into wave after wave of daylight colors, sending an eddying flux of scarlet and yellow and orange and lilac and sapphire blue in ever-expanding ripples to the far horizon.

  “Thus does Faerie go to war,” Cordelia murmured. “May the spirits of the Immortal Realm bless us in our endeavors.”

  It took most of the day to circle the western flank of Esgarth Forest and to bring the army at last to bivouac on the high swell of Salisoc Heath. Below them they could see the palace, some ten miles south of their encampment, following the winding line of the river. The waters of the Tamesis were a dull gray, as though the river suffered the same sickness as the land. Despite their distance from the palace the ground underfoot was dead, the grass withered, the lifeless heather straggling on the earth, the trees at the forest’s eaves shrouded in brown tatters.

  “The Sorcerer’s influence is spreading,” the earl marshal said, standing at Tania’s side as they looked down at the palace. “We come not a moment too soon.”

 

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