The Queen's Gambit: Book One of Imirillia (The Books of Imirillia 1)

by Beth Brower

  “I will stay, if it pleases you,” he said.

  Wil bowed respectfully and looked up at Eleanor, his eyes lingering a moment longer than she would have expected. Eleanor could not help but feel his expression was weighted with something other than authenticity. She felt a twinge of caution as he took his seat along the eastern wall.

  ***

  Wil settled himself on a smooth bench, away from the other observers, and scrutinized the proceedings before him with interest.

  She had surprised him, this precocious queen, who wore her unembellished crown so practically about that flame-colored hair. Placing his elbows on his knees, Wil leaned forward, caught more in constructing the character of this Queen Eleanor than in the lackluster affairs of the Aemogen state. She was poised, but sincere, guileless.

  There were only a small handful of petitioners, who carried before their queen what Wil thought were simple requests. Yet, the Aemogen queen listened attentively and gave fair, thoughtful responses. Once, she asked a man to stay as a guest in the travelers’ house until she could convene with her council and discuss his problem in depth. The words were polished, albeit, against Wil’s own experiences, a bit staid.

  His eyes wandered the throne room. Thin, high windows lined the eastern and western walls. Squared gray stones held muted tapestries, subdued, steady, and unsophisticated. Wil pulled on the inside of his mouth as he scanned the people present. A small country with an unaffected people, he thought. Perhaps he had not been such a fool; he may yet find a way to make the Aemogens listen to him.

  A piercing look drew Wil’s attention toward the line of councillors across the room. There, sitting among the queen’s council, was a man a handful of years older than Wil, watching him with unapologetic distrust. Wil responded with an even look of his own, lifting his chin slightly, before turning his attention back to the queen. The audience had ended. She stood, as did the rest of the court. Wil brought himself to his feet and waited respectfully as she disappeared through a set of doors behind the tapestries on the northern wall. A single guard followed close behind.

  ***

  “I’ll be disappointed not to have your company,” Edythe admitted to Eleanor, who was busy working in her private apartments. “I don’t see why this one meal, of many, should be missed.” She was sitting across from Eleanor, in a chair on the other side of her desk. “You do remember that Wil Traveler will be dining in the traditional place at your left hand?”

  “I had remembered,” Eleanor said. “But, that formality will have to wait for tomorrow.” She fingered the papers on her desk then looked up towards her sister, much more absorbed by the work before her than by the day’s events. “Was this Wil Traveler comfortably settled?”

  “Yes,” Edythe replied. “Doughlas saw him to the travelers’ house, upon my request. I spoke with Wil Traveler only a moment, but promised him a general tour of the entire Ainsley Rise tomorrow. Have you heard that he has quite the fine horse with him? It was brought up from an inn yard in Ainsley to stable here with the mounts of the castle-guard. Rumors are it is the most beautiful horse to have ever been seen in Aemogen.”

  “Hmmm,” Eleanor said. She had turned back towards her work.

  “I do wish you would just come.”

  “Hospitality can be extended by others as well as the queen,” Eleanor replied. “In any form, you are his sponsor. It will be quite appropriate for you to welcome him this evening.” Eleanor moved her forefinger along the wood grains of her desk, and she looked towards her window, the remaining light of day draping into evening. “You know how I am when I’ve not finished my work,” she added. Resting her hand beneath her chin, her fingers stretching down her neck, Eleanor smiled at Edythe. “Besides, I am expecting to meet with Aedon about the modified Marion amendments.”

  “Does it really signify?” Edythe asked. “Enough to keep you both from dinner?”

  “Yes,” Eleanor said, the corners of her mouth turned down. “Politics are always a caution, even with your nearest ally.”

  Edythe left Eleanor to her work just as Aedon was entering the queen’s chambers.

  He greeted Edythe then said, “I understand the seed bringers from Common Field fen will be arriving soon, and Blaike will be coming with them.”

  “He most certainly is coming,” was Edythe’s enthusiastic response.

  Eleanor watched from the corner of her eye as Edythe beamed and gave Aedon the details of Blaike’s arrival. They would marry, Blaike and Edythe. All of Ainsley knew it, though the amicable young man had not yet dared ask Eleanor if he might marry the princess. Eleanor would say yes when he did, but she’d done nothing to lessen his discomfort at figuring out how he would approach his sovereign. When Edythe left, ribbons of happiness trailing behind her, Aedon closed the door, shaking his head. He sat down across from Eleanor.

  “You really should encourage Blaike,” he said. “Or she’ll be waiting forever.”

  “Did you finished reading?” Eleanor asked directly.

  “I did,” Aedon said, tossing the papers onto her desk. His face was now as serious as she knew it should be. “The Marion rules of war have been changed.”

  Chapter Two

  Sitting on an old barrel, Wil watched the Ainsley marketplace hurry itself about. It was late morning now, and many of the wares had been sold, but people still milled around in groups, as if they needed someplace to be in anticipation of the festival still days away.

  Chidings, mixed with conversation, were called forth as children, directly disobeying their parents’ cries to sit quiet, were caught up in roving games of dirt and quick calls. A few girls stood nearby, laughing and pulling in close to share secrets. Wil couldn’t help but notice that, more than once, they giggled in his direction. Men stood with their arms folded, frequently holding a hand out, as if testing the air, and prophesying their distant harvests. Occasionally, a man or a woman would glance at Wil and frown. He watched it all with interest, these measured, yet conversant interactions of the Aemogens, so different from what he was used to.

  “Uooff!” A small boy, tripping over his own feet, hit the ground near Wil. A running gaggle of children continued on their way, paying the boy no mind. He lay there, stunned, momentarily dazed. Then, after looking about, he burst into tears. Wil quickly scooped the little boy up, bouncing him up and down in his arms.

  “That was quite a tumble,” Wil said. The little boy stopped crying at Wil’s words, staring up at his face. A worried mother rushed towards Wil, suspicion in her steps.

  “Is this your boy?” Wil asked the woman.

  “Yes.” She reclaimed her child and wiped his eyes. “He is too small to keep up with the others,” she explained, “and always ends up running himself right off his feet.” She turned her attention to Wil. “And you are?”

  “Excuse me,” he said. “Wil, Wil Traveler. I’m spending a fortnight as guest of the queen’s hospitality.”

  “Ah.” The woman’s face relaxed into a smile. “I’ve heard about you. It’s been a long while since hospitality has been offered.” The woman took in his height and face. “I can see why they gave it to you—you’ve a handsome face. Do you offer work, or skill, or news?” She had said this last word with effect, indicating herself to be a connoisseur of local gossip.

  Wil laughed out loud, which pleased the woman and called the attention of others nearby. The mother preened in her temporary status of conversing with the foreigner.

  “Whatever the queen desires, I assure you,” he answered. “Speaking of, I am set to meet the Princess Edythe. It would not do to arrive late. Forgive me.” He hesitated then said, “May I ask your name?”

  “Aurrey. That’s my name. And this is Haide.” She nodded to the now quieted child in her arms.

  “Pleasure, Aurrey,” Wil said. “I hope to see you again.” With one last glance, he left the marketplace and headed up the hill towards the castle.

  ***

  It was in the records hall that Wil was to meet Edy
the, and his own solitary observation led him to a tall building with wide windows of stained glass, settled on the east side of Ainsley Castle. When Wil pushed open one of the doors, he found a single large room with several empty tables, a high ceiling, and shelves upon shelves lining the walls. In the back, up two steps, was a raised section of the floor, where he could see the Princess Edythe working. To each side of the platform were a set of twisting stairs, leading to an open hallway that ran the length and width of the walls above the common room. Wil’s eyes scanned the contents of the shelves: manuscripts, scrolls, books, and boxes, sitting undisturbed in their places.

  “Hello,” Edythe said as she waved a smile at Wil. Leaving her work on the table, she stood and stepped down onto the level floor of the main room.

  “What sort of work do you do in such a place?” Wil asked, his hands behind his back, his head tilted as he admired the windows. The artisanship of the hall pleased him, and Wil wondered why the throne room did not boast such accoutrements.

  “The royal archivist does his work here,” she said. “As do I—the designated member of the royal family charged with the history and traditions of our people. This winter, I began the rather arduous task of creating a new system to organize records.” The princess’s face revealed a satisfaction so complete that Wil wasn’t surprised when she next said, “It’s a good work.”

  “I accept your time with hesitation,” he answered. “As I imagine you have as much to do as the queen and do not wish to be distracted from your tasks.”

  “But therein lies the difference between my sister and I.” Edythe’s tone was obliging. “Where I will put down my quill, Eleanor would thank you for your consideration and continue working. I’ll enjoy showing you Ainsley Rise and getting to know you better.”

  He soon learned that Edythe referred to the Ainsley castle, and all its outbuildings and gardens within the exterior walls of the castle as Ainsley Rise. He saw that his initial impression—that of artless buildings thrown in any place—was not correct. It was, Wil admitted, a beautiful complex: the castle, rising in the center, and the surrounding buildings, set at artistic angles, creating arches and pathways and gardens between the tall, gray stones. The south entrance to the castle led to a square where, Edythe said, many of Aemogen’s ceremonies were performed. Behind them, large gates opened towards a wide stairway, leading down to the houses and businesses of Ainsley. In the center of the stairway was another square, which Edythe explained was for festivals and dancing.

  “It’s called Ceiliuradh in the old tongue,” she said. “Not many call it that anymore.”

  “But you do,” Wil observed.

  “Yes, and Eleanor. She remembers everything.”

  The walls that surrounded the castle supported a high tower in each corner. The travelers’ house, where Wil had been given lodging, stood straight beneath the southwest tower, near the southern gate, with an armory and several store buildings arching from its side.

  They followed a small cobbled path that led down, past the terraced gardens west of the castle, to the stables, which were positioned near the western gate. Here they stopped to admire Hegleh, Wil’s horse, before continuing into the extensive gardens north of the castle.

  “And what does the queen do all day?” Wil asked as they walked the paths, paying little attention to the gardeners working there.

  “She manages the affairs of Aemogen.” Edythe smiled, covering her eyes from the bright sun with her hand as she looked into his face.

  “Yes,” Wil persisted, “but what is her schedule? Her duties? What demands consume her time?”

  Edythe gave him a questioning look for his odd inquiry.

  “It’s just that she is so young in her position,” Wil reasoned. “I’m curious how she sees it done.”

  “You ask what Eleanor does all day?” Edythe shrugged as they continued walking. “She wakes early, studies for several hours, and, perhaps, slips into the gardens ahead of arriving at mid-morning audience.” She paused and glanced at his face before continuing. “Afterward, she takes her meal in her private apartments while answering the communications of state, or researching a pressing issue. Mid-afternoon, her council convenes—I, thankfully, am excused from these meetings a majority of the time—and they discuss the needs of each fen and of Aemogen as a whole.”

  “How long do they meet?”

  “It varies on the day.” Edythe greeted a gardener then continued. “She may walk or ride out on Thrift afterward, but usually, she returns to finish her business or continue her studies until evening meal.”

  “Which she does not attend for being too busy,” Wil finished with a smile.

  Edythe laughed.

  ***

  The queen was again absent from dinner. Wil sat in his seat to the left of Eleanor’s empty chair, which, Edythe had told him, was the traditional place of welcome. Edythe had greeted him warmly but settled at the far end of the table. Even Crispin, the young captain of the palace guard, had nodded a greeting in Wil’s direction, only to turn again to the young lady he was entertaining with a story.

  An older gentleman, who had been on the queen’s council, and the younger councilman that Wil had seen during his first morning audience—people were calling him Aedon—were deep in conversation regarding fen trade. Wil leaned back in his chair, watching them all. They were strange, casual, sincere, yet not sophisticated, as Wil may have previously guessed for a gathering of Aemogen’s elite.

  He tapped his fingers along the table, fighting disappointment. Had he wished for more of a welcome, more acknowledgments? He shook his head. Were he honest, Wil would have admitted that he’d wanted to speak with Queen Eleanor, but he had not seen her since the audience the day before.

  Silence filled the room.

  Wil looked up. The queen had entered. Her hair was braided in the tradition of her people, ending with a copper twist down her neck, set off by her simple gray gown. Wil stood, as had everyone else.

  Eleanor paused as she passed Aedon, placing her hand on his arm, exchanging a quiet word, and then walked to her seat. A nondescript guard, always a few feet behind the queen, stepped forward and pulled back her chair.

  “Thank you, Hastian,” the queen said as she settled onto her place. “Good evening, everyone.”

  Those assembled offered greeting, then sat down and continued comfortably in their conversation. Wil felt out of place, unsure of the protocol a guest of the crown should follow. He sat against his chair, then straightened his back, and ended up leaning slightly forward, lifting his head just enough to watch those around him. Eleanor’s eyes scanned those in attendance, offering what Wil thought to be a preoccupied smile, as the servers began filling plates.

  Once Eleanor began to eat, the rest of the table followed. For someone who was supposed to be a guest of Ainsley’s hospitality, Wil felt more alien and unwanted than he ever had in his life. It seemed that Eleanor meant to pay him no mind. She was thinking carefully about something, pushing the food around her plate, her face knit in concentration. Finally, Wil ceased being invisible to her, for Eleanor turned directly to him.

  “Wil Traveler,” Eleanor stated simply.

  “Your Majesty,” he said, feeling uncharacteristically nervous, and he cleared his throat.

  “Have you settled into the travelers’ house?”

  “I have. There was plenty of time yesterday. I’ve since had opportunity to see a part of Ainsley, and the Princess Edythe showed me about Ainsley Rise.”

  Eleanor nodded, showing civil interest. “Now that you have seen a small part of Aemogen, do you suppose you will enjoy your stay?” It was a polite comment, a slight emphasis placed on enjoy.

  “To be honest,” Wil said as he settled back in his chair with folded arms and tilted his head to the side, watching the queen’s face, “I’m not yet sure.”

  Eleanor, Wil gathered, was surprised, for she set down her fork and looked at him as if finally giving him her full attention. He fought a smile away
from his face, pleased.

  “For the sake of conversation,” Eleanor proceeded, “have you found something lacking?”

  “Just different,” Wil said, taking another bite of his simple meal, a vegetable stew, no meat, no spice, only herbs. It tasted flat in comparison to the food of the North.

  “You have no example for me then?” the queen said, speaking louder, and Wil noticed Aedon glancing in their direction. He decided to give this Aedon a show.

  Using a napkin that had been provided, Wil shrugged, set his fork down, and leaned towards the queen.

  “Oh, I have plenty of examples,” Wil said matter-of-factly. “I’m not sure you have that much disposable time.”

  “If you remember the audience yesterday,” she said, “you are supposed to offer something in return for my hospitality.” The queen’s tone was light.

  “What would you like from me?” Wil offered.

  “Since it’s not apparent you have any skill,” she answered with understated jest, “news and conversation should suffice, and I will make time for it. Please, tell me of our strange, secluded ways.”

  Wil took the slight in stride, as this was his element. “There are many indeed. But, should we begin close to home, as it were?” He raised his glass to her. “Your interactions as a monarch, as queen, are so familiar with all of those around you. Does not that undermine your authority?”

  The young queen seemed surprised by his question, not responding immediately. Finally, as if deciding she had sufficient curiosity to follow his line of questioning, she replied with her own question: “What is authority without friendship and trust?”

  “Power,” Wil said. His answer was swift, and she appeared struck with how sharp the word sounded in his mouth.

  “Power?” Eleanor rose to the debate. “Answer me this, traveler, would you rather people follow for loyalty and love, or would you reign through fear to gain allegiance?”