Order of the Regent

by Jasmine Walt

  She did not want to endanger them simply by her presence. She only hoped she could beg forgiveness for her knights. She would stoop to plead to Guntram on their behalf. They, of course, never would. Perhaps she could convince Guntram she had bewitched them or given them some magic potion. There had to be some way she could gain their freedom and save their lives. Her heart squeezed at the thought of being responsible for their deaths.

  Or maybe she could slip away alone and turn herself in before they noticed she was gone.

  Or perhaps…

  She stared down over the ramparts. There were no shadows on the sheer white wall. If she fell to the rocks below, her blood would stain the blanched tiled walls. But it would be over. There wouldn’t be any queen to contest Guntram’s rule. There would be nothing for people to die for. They would simply be ruled by a murderer.

  She leaned over, letting the wind pull at the green silk dress she had borrowed from Lady Perigord. Her red tresses whipped at her face. Her knights would be forgiven. They could not lead an army against the desert dwellers without her as a figurehead.

  And there was nothing any of them could do if she were dead.

  Was this really a solution? Would she sacrifice her life for the ones she loved?

  A hand gripped her arm and tugged her back from the precipice. “You’re a little too close to the edge,” Taron said from behind her.

  “Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a bird?” Lorelai asked.

  Taron’s skin paled as he pulled her farther from the edge.

  “No,” he whispered.

  She slipped her hand in his, feeling his clamminess. “Sometimes I do. When I was a child, I always felt free on the waters of Bas Terrenia. But once I was married, there was no freedom. Yes, I was the queen, but my life has been full of roles and responsibilities, with little time to just be who I am.”

  “We all have a duty,” Taron said.

  “Yes.” Lorelai sighed. “And you are so good at fulfilling yours. So steadfast and firm. As if you never doubt yourself.”

  A genuine laugh erupted from Taron’s mouth. “I doubt myself like any other honest man.”

  Lorelai’s chuckle joined his, and she wanted to lean back against his chest and just stand there in the sun with the wind whispering at her face. “Me too,” she said.

  “Why were you standing so close?” Taron asked quietly.

  “I was wondering about the people who built this castle,” she said. “Why would they construct it in such an open place, so easy to attack?”

  Taron shrugged his broad shoulders. The sunlight glinted against his long brown hair, showing its plentiful strands of red. “I presume they wanted to be attacked,” he said. “Or maybe they wanted to see their enemy as they approached.”

  “Or maybe they thought they were invincible,” Lorelai mused. “Like nobody would ever be able to defeat them. It was built by the desert dwellers, was it not? When they inhabited this land?”

  “Indeed, it was,” Taron said. “Hundreds of years ago. When they destroyed the foundations of the First Formation.”

  “Perhaps some things about them have not changed. They may still underestimate the enemy.”

  “Perhaps,” Taron said. His eyes had a faraway look, revealing thoughts that did not involve the potential coming battle. “Lorelai,” he said softly, leaning in.

  “We’d best get inside.” Andre stomped noisily up the stairs and onto the rampart.

  “The horses are ready for the night,” Marrok said from behind him.

  Lorelai turned away from Taron, her cheeks burning.

  Marrok smoothly moved next to the queen, and she didn’t miss Andre’s smug smile as Taron was forced to step away. “We should retire to the tower,” Marrok said. “The winds are starting up.”

  “Why don’t you get the fire started, Taron,” Andre said as he motioned Lorelai towards the tower door. “I have brought wood, but you always were the best fire starter.”

  To Lorelai’s surprise, Taron acquiesced. With a brief nod, he took the firewood from Andre’s arms as they stepped across the threshold.

  Clearly, they were not the first ones to seek refuge in the circular tower. There was an old straw mattress in the corner and another on the other side of the room. As Taron started the fire in the massive hearth, Marrok prepared a simple dinner of reheated meat, bread, and cheese. Lorelai rested on one of the mattresses next to Elba, watching the knights as they settled in for the evening. While Lorelai missed Bruno and Reyn, she also enjoyed being alone with Taron, Andre, and Marrok. For the first time since she was back in Castle Ashford and her husband was alive, she felt safe, which was ironic considering their exposed position. However, in their presence, she felt cozy and protected. Except for Andre, they had been with her since the day she first arrived at Castle Ashford. They were the only family she had known since she lost her own. Now she watched them prepare for the evening, like a simple machine, each knowing the others’ jobs. A deep sense of stillness enveloped her, one she only felt with them.

  “I will wash the dishes,” she said.

  “When was the last time you washed a dish, my queen?” Andre chuckled with the others.

  She stood, hands on her ample hips. “Are you saying I don’t know how to wash a dish? I will have you know I am a fine doer of dishes.” The knights exchanged looks and their laughter reverberated through the circular tower.

  “Well, that sounds like a bit of a challenge,” Taron said. “One I do not think we will compete for. You are hereby named the official dish doer of this little party.”

  “Now you just have to go outside and down to the well and bring up a bucket of water,” Marrok said.

  Lorelai raised her eyebrows in surprise, which only started the other three laughing again. “I can get a bucket of water!” she huffed as she spun towards the door.

  “No need, Your Majesty.” Andre chuckled as he stood. “No need.” He grabbed four wooden buckets sitting by the door. “In the time it’ll take you to bring one bucket up here, I’ll have all four taken care of. Then we can judge your dish-doing capabilities.”

  Lorelai smiled as she watched the gentle giant head out the front door. This was perfect. Despite the conditions, she loved being with her knights. If Bruno and Reyn were here, her evening would be complete.

  The howling wind startled Lorelai awake. She blurrily looked over at Andre, who stood watch, twisting silver strands into an intricate pattern by the fire. She snuggled back into Elba, her furry bed warmer, and drifted back to sleep.

  She woke right before the break of dawn. The wind had died down, but there was still a ruckus outside. Taron was on watch, sitting by the door to the terrace.

  “Is that still the wind?” Lorelai said, gesturing to the dull roar in the air.

  “It must be,” Taron said. “It died down at one point but started up again this morning.”

  “I will see it.” Lorelai moved towards the terrace. Andre and Marrok stirred, trailing behind as Taron pulled the door open.

  To Lorelai’s surprise, the air was still as they stepped across the threshold. The sky was lightening, and the source of the noise became apparent as they approached the ledge. Through the night, people had arrived in droves and now surrounded the castle ruins on all sides, as far as the eye could see.

  “Who are they?” Lorelai asked, her voice soft.

  “I am unsure,” Taron said.

  Daybreak was not quite upon them and it was still difficult to see the house banners. All the knights’ hands reflectively went to their sword hilts as they peered over the wall. It was Marrok who recognized the heralds first.

  “House du Westgate. House du Wynn. House du Lockes.” He pointed down at the banners closest to the castle.

  As the sun rose, Taron pointed out more houses.

  “House du Fairley. House du Puccine. House du Koyie. They come from Affama, the region near Reyn’s castle.”

  Lorelai took a deep breath. “But are they frien
d or foe?”

  “Look there!” Andre shouted, letting out a whooping holler as he pulled his sword.

  Lorelai peered through the crowds below and finally, at the helm of the amassed warriors, stood Bruno before the herald of House du Montbard and Reyn next to the banner of House des Barres, swords raised in tribute. They cheered towards the queen, responding to Andre with raised swords.

  “Is it enough?” Lorelai asked, her hair swirling in the wind. “Is it enough?”

  “It is not whether we are enough swords,” Marrok said. “The question is, do we have enough heart?”

  “A strong heart makes for a fine battle,” Taron agreed, raising his sword and joining the shouts from the ramparts below.

  As the knights’ yells faded, Lorelai could just make out the chant the people below had taken up. Their voices sailed up towards her.

  “For the queen! For Valliere! For the queen!”

  She stood on the parapet with her knights at her side and below, letting the cheers of the people surround her. There was no going back now. Despite the tremors in her breast and the forthcoming battle, they would fight the desert dwellers.

  20

  Bruno was cheered to be back with the knights, back with Lorelai. He never felt so steady or at home as with them. Whatever the conditions, even facing the desert dwellers and the king, he preferred their company to all others. It hadn’t hurt that everything had gone so well with his lady mother. He had thought all was lost with her, but she had stopped him before he had left for his horse.

  She had been testing Bruno’s commitment to the Order of the Regent and the queen, a queen she quite liked. Lady Montbard could never condone that Guntram relied so heavily on his bone mage. The problems with the kamin paste that had infiltrated their duchy only gave him more leverage. Lady Montbard believed the kamin was being dealt in part on behalf of Guntram, though this could not be proved. Yet.

  While she and Terni would go with their people to safety and not personally join the battle, Lady Montbard had insisted her escort bring her to Castle Togene where she herself could present the collier of Valliere to Queen Lorelai. There had been few moments recently in his memory when Bruno had felt so proud of his family as when his lady mother had curtsied to the queen and offered the repaired necklace to her. Terni had smiled, clearly thrilled they were backing this renegade queen, perhaps wishing she could be more like her. Lorelai had been visibly moved by the gesture and accepted Lady Montbard’s fealty with utmost gravity and poise. The loyalty of a duchess was not something to be taken lightly, and the fact Lady des Barres, Reyn’s sister, had also come to Castle Togene to swear fealty only added to Bruno’s belief they were gaining ground in the loyalty of the powerful houses of Valliere.

  Now, with his mother gone, Bruno stood with the other knights in the tent they used as their war room. A large chart of the Western Region was rolled out on a chest.

  “We will need people in these major areas,” Bruno said, motioning to the high points of his duchy, which would protect the region where the people had evacuated to.

  “Agreed.” Taron nodded.

  “They will come in here,” Reyn pointed out. “The sea is shallow and calm and creates an easy bay for them to land. The dwellers will be able to get their ships unloaded quickly and effectively.”

  “That is good for us,” Bruno said. “They will make landfall well before arriving at Castle Scogliere. We can engage them here.” He pointed to high ground inland from the bay.

  “Should we not be standing on the shore to take them as they get off their boats?” Lorelai asked.

  The sound of her voice made Bruno glow with an internal warmth he only now, since the death of her husband, allowed himself to recognize and give in to.

  “It’s all flatlands, very low there,” he said. “There’s no high space to put archers. And if we come in close, we will be sitting ducks.”

  Taron drummed his fingers against the map. “They will have archers on their ships who will take us out in the sand.”

  “And if you have never tried to fight in dry sand,” Marrok said, “you are a lucky lass. Few live through that experience. As Bruno says, it is best if we take the battle farther back.”

  “If we are all standing there, waiting to fight them, why wouldn’t they just go around us and attack House du Montbard?” Lorelai asked.

  “They can’t land en masse at Castle Scogliere,” Bruno said. “It’s why my family built there. But just to be safe, we have emptied the citadel and town and sent everybody farther inland, where they will be protected while we engage them.”

  “Have we beat them before like this?” Lorelai leaned forward.

  “Nothing like this,” Bruno said. Excitement rushed beneath his skin at the thrill of battle and drive to win glory for his house and his queen. There was probably never a battle so personally important to him as this one. It would be a great victory for Lorelai’s cause when they defended the Western Region against the desert dwellers.

  “Usually we stop a few smaller raids,” Andre said, “but the desert dwellers have not joined en masse on our terrain since the years well before our time.”

  “So, we don’t really know what we’re up against?” Lorelai asked.

  “The way I like to think of it”—Reyn cocked his head to the side—“is they don’t know what they’re up against.”

  Bruno truly loved some things about his brothers, and he deeply appreciated their ability to face battle. He slapped Reyn on the back. “That’s my boy.”

  “Let’s not make the mistake the desert dwellers will,” Marrok said quietly. “Don’t be overconfident in what we do.”

  “Marrok is right,” Taron said. “This will be no easy win, and everything we love most is at stake.”

  All the knights looked directly to Lorelai. Her skin flushed red and her fingers massaged Elba’s fur.

  “I’m not stupid enough to underestimate the enemy,” Reyn said. “Have any of you wondered where the griffins have gone?”

  “The griffins?” Lorelai asked.

  Bruno pointed to the heraldry patch on Reyn’s sleeve, a yellow griffin perched in a gold field. “Where have they gone?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

  “Let me take a wild guess,” Taron said. “Sec Salete.”

  “He’s correct,” Marrok said. “I have heard stories of this since I was a child. The desert dwellers ride on beastly winged lions.”

  “Fantastic.” Bruno grinned.

  “They are real,” Reyn insisted. “The griffins used to roam this region. They would roost on the cliffs near my family’s castle. It is not merely a mythological animal we have as our sigil. The dwellers took them when they were evicted from Valliere. They bred them for violence and now ride them into battle.”

  “I need to get me one of those,” Andre said appreciatively, twisting the silver coil in his fingers into the shape of a wing.

  “This can’t possibly be true.” Lorelai’s pulse raced at the thought. “If…if they have griffins, wouldn’t they have attacked long ago?”

  Taron shrugged. “Maybe they do not have very many. Maybe they are superstitious about the rise of the new king and see this as their opportunity.”

  “Hell, maybe they think Guntram’s an arse and needs to be thrown out,” Bruno said.

  “It doesn’t matter why they come,” Marrok said. “It only matters that they come, and we must meet them with force, even if they ride the saints themselves.”

  Bruno looked at the queen. She did not seem well. “Do you need to rest, Your Grace?” he asked, using the formal title despite the closed quarters. He hadn’t quite adjusted to the familiarity she had requested from all the knights. He wished only he could call her Lorelai.

  “Yes,” Lorelai said, as if relieved she did not have to mention it herself.

  Her strength and courage made Bruno want to enfold her in his arms.

  “We will take a break,” Taron said. “Andre, can you check the weapons?”<
br />
  “Indeed,” Andre replied.

  “I will inspect the horses they have brought,” Marrok added.

  “I will work with the others to discuss our mobility plan.” Taron stared thoughtfully at the map. “We will need to break camp in the morning.”

  “My lady sister has arrived,” Reyn said. “I will speak with her.”

  Bruno glanced around at the other knights. “I believe this means I am in charge of escorting you to your marquee, Your Grace.” He smiled as he bowed.

  “Stay on guard there also,” Taron told Bruno.

  “Of course.” It would be Bruno’s pleasure to sit outside her tent while she slept and daydream about having her in his arms.

  21

  The dark night was all around Lorelai, cold and heavy. Lorelai stood in the mist, looking for her father. She reached for him, but her stretching arms twisted and changed in the darkness, growing massive and a sickly shade of green.

  “Papa!” she screamed into the blackness, but the mist poured into her mouth, diving into her throat and pushing into her organs. It turned her blood black and coursed through her veins down her green arms.

  Her bones stretched, bent, and cracked as the impossible disease and magic inside the black mist, the Grosse Obscurite, pushed inside her, obliterating who she was as easily as it swallowed the land.

  Lorelai’s shriek tore her from her nightmare. She sat up in her tent, the night impenetrable around her. Her fingers stretched out for Elba, but the comforting beast wasn’t there.

  “Elba?” Lorelai whispered. The laircat was always there, curled up and warm beside her, purring and protecting her.

  Lorelai shuddered and shook, chilled to the bone. Was that what it felt like when her family became the monsters who walk in the dark? When they were contorted and twisted and made to look like unimaginable beasts, their bones malformed, heads enlarged, torsos twisted. Monsters of the night whose only intent was to do the bidding of the black mist, of whatever controlled them within the Grosse Obscurite. Tears streamed down Lorelai’s face and she rocked back and forth.