“Regent Velora has requested you confine your outing to areas within the palace’s reach. The Warrior training fields are open enough for a ride.”
Alina sighed and tapped her foot against the ground. She looked to Nin, who showed no sign of concern. “Very well,” she said. Nin waited for her to mount her steed before getting on her own horse. “Shall we ride out?” Alina asked. Nin nodded and they both urged their steeds forward. Alina let her mare fall behind Nin’s. She did not want to appear overly competent at riding.
They rode out beyond the stables and through a gate into the training fields. Scattered pockets of troops trained. Nin led them in a wide arc away from the majority of them, out towards the tall grass where no one worked. “Lady Vorica has agreed to meet us over here. We shall go through a riding lesson and then be invited to join her for refreshments at her private estate.”
Alina nodded. “Smart.” Their route adjusted. Alina scanned the field, a group of Warriors marched in block formation, back and forth, over and over. Alina caught the glint of blonde hair and stared. The Warrior from the archery field had beads of sweat covering her face, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Alina looked away.
“Nin,” she called, pulling her horse up alongside her maid.
The young maid glanced at her. “Yes, your Highness?”
“Do you know that girl we ran into the other day? The blonde Warrior?”
Nin eyed the training Warriors. “I’m afraid I don’t, your Highness. She appeared to be new, though. This is the time of year new recruits arrive.” Alina remained silent. They rode on further, stopping at a small, overgrown patch of the field where the only remaining tree stood. It grew tall, its limbs touching the top of the wall, leaves brushing against the stone. Nin cleared her throat. “I can arrange an introduction, if you like.”
Alina glanced over at the Warriors again. “No. Not yet. I want to see how things unfold naturally.”
“So you two do meet?” Nin asked.
Alina paused. She was not used to people asking her about her visions. “That is…unclear. When the time comes, we will know. You said she is important to me.”
“Yes, but I do not see the when,” Nin replied. “Sometimes, with the right intelligence, I can orchestrate certain events by making the right people meet.”
“Exactly how many people are aware of your kind’s existence?” Alina scanned the field for approaching horses.
“We are a well-kept secret.” Nin looked away, covering her eyes against the sun. “Look.” She pointed at an approaching figure. “Your instructor comes.”
The figure moved closer, a woman in flowing clothes on a dark horse. The newcomer urged the steed on at a trot until she pulled alongside Alina and Nin. She slowed the horse to a stop, patting its mane and making cooing sounds in its ear. The woman looked up and smiled at them. Her skin was naturally dark, much like many of the folk living in the grassy fields of the heartland. Her eyes mirrored the tone of rich amber and her dark hair fell in a braid ending at her hip. Her clothes flowed with the wind, cream-colored silks hanging off her body. She looked strikingly different from the handful of westerners Alina had seen. She had expected someone more...elderly.
“Your Highness,” she said with a thick accent. “It is an honor.”
“It is an honor to meet you, Lady Vorica.”
The woman smiled and shook her head. “You may call me Ashali, if you wish. In my tongue it means ‘elder.’“
“But you are so young,” Alina said, confused.
The woman laughed. It resonated fullness. “You flatter like a true politician. Now come, show me how heartland royalty rides.”
Though Alina thought herself an accomplished rider, she soon learned the many flaws in her own self-taught technique. There had been no riding master in the tower. She remembered stubbornly mounting a horse and demanding a guard take her out. Even if the lesson Nin had arranged served as a cover, it proved useful. They filled two hours, and by then, sweat clung to Alina’s forehead. “My, this is challenging.”
Lady Vorica seemed to take the hint. “I would be honored if your Highness would join me for refreshments.” She bowed slightly.
“Yes, I would like that very much,” said Alina. “Nin, prepare my escort. I fear the sun may roast me before we reach her Lady’s quarters.”
“Yes, Highness.” Nin rode her horse ahead while Alina and Vorica rode side by side at a slower gait.
“Your lady-in-waiting is a sharp one,” said Vorica.
“She is,” Alina replied. She scanned the field, but the Warriors had moved somewhere else.
“She speaks of you with high regard.”
“Does she?” asked Alina.
The diplomat nodded. “She says you seek knowledge, to know of my people and their strife.”
“How am I to rule without knowledge of my surrounding allies?” Alina asked.
The diplomat laughed again. She bent in her saddle and shook her head. “You have a talent for tact and care. You might outlast the politicians yet.”
“Might?” Alina furrowed her brow.
“You have been raised with these political animals. You move as they move.”
“I’m different. I care.”
“Time will show that,” said Vorica.
They reached the end of the field and continued riding out to the stables. Nin waited there with a mounted escort of two guards who led them into the city. Alina dreaded her visits out of the palace. The citizens suffered in the streets, and she felt moved to do something silly, like toss her jewels at the beggars. That would only make them a target for robbery or exploitation, though. No, she had to find much more discreet ways to help her people. She would not let them transform into the emaciated ghosts from her vision.
This ride through the city, however, remained uneventful, since they stayed in the upper echelons where dignitaries and high-ranking nobles lived. Lady Vorica’s home laid on a sprawling piece of land complete with a stable and attendants who received their horses. Unlike many of the dignitary homes, this one felt welcoming rather than opulent.
“This way, your Highness,” said Vorica, once Alina had dismounted. She directed them along a garden path up to a side entrance of her home.
Alina left her guards at the door, instructing them to keep watch for followers. With only the three of them and Vorica’s attendants around, Alina breathed easier. The home comforted her too, smaller than the sprawling castle, warmer, with thick, cozy rugs covering the tiled floor.
“Shall we take tea in my private study?” asked the diplomat.
“Yes, please,” said Alina. She glanced around at the oddities decorating the home. Porcelain objects sat on the shelves, miniature sculptures of creatures she had never seen. Tapestries hung on display, the whirling, warm patterns so different from the jagged edges of the palace’s art. “Your home is lovely.”
“Thank you,” said Vorica. “Have a seat anywhere you prefer,” she said, gesturing openly. She grabbed a tray of tea and carried it over to their table before seating herself from across Alina and Nin. She kneeled into a cushion and took up the steaming teapot, tipping its contents into the three cups. When all were full, she placed the pot down again and lifted a cup in both hands to pass to Alina. “When I was a girl, my mother taught me that there is nothing more valuable in negotiations than being able to serve tea well.”
Alina took the cup from her and smelled the hot liquid. She almost hummed when she detected cinnamon and other spices mixed together. Sipping the contents, she found it tasted strong, but good. “This is excellent,” she said. Nin took a sip from her cup and nodded.
“Thank you,” said Vorica. “It is not often I entertain such pleasant company.” The diplomat lifted her own cup and took a sip. “Now.” She set it back down on the plate. “You are here for more than tea.”
“The people from across the sea, the ones in negotiations with the Council right now… the ones from Shedol.” Vorica nodded for Alina to continue
. “What can you tell me about them?”
The diplomat looked down at her folded hands then back at Alina. “They are a troubled people,” she said. “Their land holds very little resources, which caused them to live in clans, very splintered, primitive.” Alina remembered the dark, barren surroundings from her vision. The rough-cut table, the dryness, a total absence of life. “But they managed, trading what they could with whom they could. We do not prefer to do business with them. They are slavers.” The admission made Alina’s stomach clench with worry.
“Who do they enslave?” Nin asked. “Not their own.”
Vorica shook her head. “Sometimes their own. Mostly they trade ores they mine out of the barrens for slave labor. Though I doubt your country is trading its people,” said Vorica. Alina’s face must have paled because her skin grew cold. The nightmarish vision troubled her. “I suspect they are bartering ores for foodstuffs. However, you should advise your Council against business with them.”
Alina considered this and took a sip of tea. Vorica seemed quite familiar with their customs, and the Council would never be stupid enough to enter into slave trade. “Your conviction is strong.”
“And earned,” said the diplomat. “They are raiders, vicious warriors. My country barely holds its bordering villages against them now. It used to be a few stray bands to chase off; now they attack with tactics and thousands of men. They have been united under someone.”
Nin placed down her teacup. “Have you voiced these concerns to the Council?”
“Many times,” said the woman. “But I am not from the heartland. My opinion only goes so far. Certain members have accused me of fearing a powerful alliance between my two neighboring countries.”
“And do you?” Alina asked. She held Vorica’s gaze despite the dizziness she felt. The vision threatened to overwhelm her once more. She inhaled slowly through her nose in an attempt to keep her focus.
“I fear the armies of Shedol,” said the diplomat. “I fear power in the wrong hands. And I think we share those fears. Perhaps your Council shares them as well. Not all alliances and trade agreements are made willingly.” She lifted up the teapot. “May I offer you more?”
Alina shook her head and placed down her cup. “No. Thank you for everything. We must return to the palace. We don’t want the Council in an uproar over my disappearance.”
Lady Vorica smirked. “The Council has been in an uproar ever since you were fetched.”
Alina laughed and rose from her seat. She bowed her head like she had observed the servant do. “Thank you again.”
The diplomat opened the door for them. “I hope you found everything you were looking for. One of my maids will show you to the stables.”
As Alina and Nin were led away, the maid leaned into her and asked, “Was this acceptable, your Highness?”
Alina watched a stable boy run to fetch their horses. “It was. Nin, I need to tell you what I saw.” Neither of them spoke further. Instead, Alina listened to the pounding of her own heart on the ride back to the palace.
Chapter Five
IN THE FIRST FEW days of training, Senri managed to keep pace with her instructor. By the fifth day, her arms felt far too heavy to lift on their own, let alone use a sword. Still, she put on her armor and went to the training field as instructed, the same field from the first day. She remembered seeing the princess ride by, or the queen-to-be, or whatever royalty she was. The woman had held Senri’s gaze again. Senri had only been able to sneak glances, drinking in small sights of the flowing brown hair and the retreating frame balancing on a horse. She had stopped when her instructor had asked if they should practice their drills for the nobility.
Only Graus waited at the field for her. “Welcome, Senri,” he called out, waving her over.
She approached the master. “Where are the other soldiers?”
“We start individual training today,” Graus replied. “An assessment of combat skills. We would rather you fight the experienced than each other. Less casualties.” He chuckled while Senri stood awkwardly in the grass until she remembered to keep the posture he had shown them. “Well, draw your weapon.” He pulled his sword from the scabbard. “Show me what you can do.”
Senri pulled her sword, trying not to show the fatigue wearing her down. They had yet to work with weapons. “When do we start?”
“Now!” He lunged forward, his stooped body suddenly powerful, filling out the armor with hidden muscle. Senri raised her sword and blocked, pushing the blade to the side rather than using force. She wished she had a shield, her empty left hand feeling useless at her side. Graus swung at her again and she once again deflected.
“Where’s your offense?” he yelled.
Senri backed away, putting space between them. She felt the heat rushing to her palms, rushing through the sword. She would not have to be on the defensive if this strategy worked, but did not know how her mentor would handle losing a sword. She attacked, but he deflected it. She had to side-step the counter. She needed to keep him playing with her for just a bit longer. She pointed to his midsection for a thrust and circled under his sword arm and up, going for the exposed collarbone. He stepped back and blocked her sword, too quick for disengages, but what should she expect from an instructor? The metal in her sword had heated quickly, leaving sizable dents in the master’s.
The next time he came at her she tried a press attack, blocking his blade and taking it with her pommel as she charged him down. He twisted his sword out of this and backed away. Senri’s arm ached. “Do I meet expectations?”
Graus swatted at her with his blade. She blocked. “No talking in combat,” he said.
Senri breathed deeply, working up a sweat. Fatigue would catch up to her soon. She had to end the fight somehow, make a stalemate. She concentrated on the burning in her fingertips, the hot metal of her sword. When she attacked Graus again, she feinted heavily into his left. She pulled back and cut down, knowing she would never reach him, aiming for his sword.
Her superheated blade cut through his, leaving a bent, ruined piece of metal curling over itself when she pulled her blade away. Graus looked down at the weapon and laughed, tossing it aside to lay smoking in the grass. “You figured that one out then?” Senri sheathed her own sword. “Very clever. Lucky for you I was not using a tempered blade. My combat sword also resists warping at higher temperatures.” He kicked the ruined piece of gear. “This slag is hardly worth what it costs to forge.”
“So why use it against me?” asked Senri.
“I wanted to see your party tricks.” Graus rubbed his graying beard. “Tell me, can you read the heat within other beings?”
“Can I what?” asked Senri.
“What all can you do as a reader?”
“I push heat into other objects through touch.” Senri looked out at her hands, the pulsing heat dissipating. “That’s about it.”
“We have some work to do then,” Graus said. When Senri frowned, he added, “Which is good, considering how quick you are in single combat. We need to work on something else with you.”
Senri still frowned, but she felt better hearing him acknowledge her skills. Swordplay had been something her village praised her for. “What can I do as a heat reader then? Besides start fires.”
“You can quell them, for one,” Graus said. He kneeled down in the grass, pressing his hand into the earth. The crackling and smoke came before the flames biting into the field in front of him. “Draw the heat from it,” he said, standing up and brushing himself off.
“I don’t know how,” said Senri. She stared at the fire, watching it grow bigger and remembering her failed attempt on the journey to the capital.
“Of course you do,” said Graus. “You were able to withdraw the heat from your hand and thus from your sword.”
“Yes, but that’s different,” said Senri.
“How so?” His thick eyebrows set themselves low, making him look irritated.
“It’s…it’s metal. It conducts heat.
This is an actual fire.” Senri gestured at the growing flames.
“So conduct the heat out of it,” said Graus.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Are you disagreeing with me?”
The fire crackled. It spread through the grass, struggling against the hearty green blades.
“Fine,” she muttered, kneeling down.
Senri pulled off the plating on her forearm and rolled up her sleeve. Unlike controlling the heat in one part of her body, she had no idea if she could contain a live fire to just her palm. With her forearm bare, she stuck her hand into the flames, the heat licking her cool skin. She drew in a breath, balancing out her hand’s temperature with the flame to avoid damage. She concentrated on the fire, how it sucked in oxygen. She searched for the source of heat, where it burned hottest. Finding it growing from the center of the flames, she held her palm over it, willing the heat to come into her hand. It refused to budge and she pressed her hand down, smothering the flame instead.
“Well, now that is cheating.” Graus chuckled.
Senri stood and brushed herself off, rolling her sleeve down and staring at the charred grass. “I couldn’t do it. I don’t know how.”
Graus sighed and clapped her on the shoulder. “We will work on it. Tell me about it though, the sensation.”
Senri related the feeling of the hottest part of the fire, its search for oxygen, knowing where it was hottest. “It wouldn’t budge,” she said.
Her mentor stroked his beard and nodded. “Well, at least you are on the right track.” He looked up at the sky, shading his eyes with his hand. “We have more work to do, of course. Your swordplay needs refinement and I have some exercises to hone your skills as a heat reader.” He looked once more to the ruined sword of his. “For now, go get me another blade. Your session is not yet over.”
***
“We bring to order this session of the Council,” declared the head Councilor. Alina sat off to the side rather than stand in the center of the room. It felt good to sit in the shadows behind Councilor Orwall. She only had to endure the occasional awkward glances from other Councilors rather than the full brunt of their stare. “Continuing from our last session, we shall conclude discussing preliminary trade agreements with the kingdom of Shedol. Is the dignitary present?”
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