The Shadow Guard

by J. D. Vaughn

  “Goat!”

  “Goat!”

  “Goat!”

  The crowd screamed his name, but the fighter merely nodded and walked out of the light. Several men helped Fury to his feet and ushered him off the arena floor, his head hung in shame or pain. Perhaps both, thought Brindl.

  The musicians and their dog took center stage again and people hopped to their feet to twirl on their ledges, looking like dolls dancing to the lively music. Tonio offered Brindl a hand and they joined the rest, laughing merrily as they spun around. Such a contrast to the brutality of the fights! Brindl enjoyed herself, swept up by the gaiety of the music, the troubles of the last week forgotten.

  When it was time for the second fight to begin, both fighters stalked onto the arena like they owned it, ready for anything. There was no yelling this time, no baiting the crowd, just a very intense stare down between the two men. It seemed to Brindl that hatred sparked there, live as fire. Better matched in size and weight, one had painted his hair white to differentiate himself.

  “Nobody likes the Warrior,” Tonio whispered to Brindl, pointing at the one with white hair. “They say he cheats.”

  Brindl wondered but did not ask how cheating occurred in a brutal sport that looked like nothing was fair.

  “What’s the other fighter’s name?” Brindl asked.

  “Axe.”

  “Sounds ominous,” she said, thinking about the mothers of these giant men. How did they feel about their sons giving up their godnames to be called things like Fury and Axe?

  As soon as the horn sounded, the Warrior rammed Axe in the gut like a crazed animal, but Axe still managed to pull him to the ground. They exchanged several punches as they grappled before they stood once more, circling. Brindl could not take her eyes off the match, both horrified and fascinated by it. The fight seemed so raw, so personal. Though the crowd was noisy, Brindl could still hear every blow land, every grunt of pain when a punch connected, the guttural growls, like cornered dogs. Tonio explained to her that kicking, punching, and wrestling were all fair options, but the fighters were not to go beyond the circle of torches, lest they hit the pearlstone.

  The Warrior threw Axe back down to the ground, then wrapped himself around him, braiding his legs and arms and locking him in place. The two men became a terrible insect monster scrabbling around the dusty floor of the arena.

  “Axe him! Axe him! Axe!” Tonio shouted. Other members of the audience picked up his chant.

  “Axe him!”

  “Axe him!”

  “Axe!”

  Brindl found that she was breathing into her hands, hoping the fight would soon be over. Then, the two men were on their feet once more. Axe jabbed the Warrior several times, decisively taking control of the match, and was about to finish him off with a knee jab to the chin, when the Warrior grabbed a stray piece of stone and pounded it into Axe’s eye.

  Axe reeled away, moaning and covering his face with his hands. The crowd gasped as the Warrior took advantage of his sudden weakness to throw Axe down and choke him with his knee. Axe tapped the ground twice with his left hand to signal surrender, but the Warrior did not let go until Axe lost consciousness.

  The crowd stood and booed wildly, including Tonio and Brindl. Then they began to chant the name of the loser, Axe, again and again until Axe came to. The old man raised Axe’s hands over his head and declared him the winner.

  “Honor over strength!” the old man proclaimed, and the crowd repeated his words with enthusiasm. Brindl added her voice to the chorus, finally understanding what just happened. The people had decided that the loser deserved to win more than the man who won by false moves.

  “Honor over strength!” she proclaimed, surprised by how much she liked the event after all.

  A lady’s maid must never engage in idle chatter with palace servants. If you are in want of conversation, choose another lady’s maid, for she will provide more pleasant and suitable company.

  —CH. N. TASCA, Palace Etiquette

  Tap.

  Tap.

  Tap.

  In bed, Brindl turned against the sound, throwing an arm over her ear to muffle it. Again, she heard it.

  Tap.

  Tap.

  Tap.

  She pressed her palms into her eyes, groaned, and reached for the robe to cover her nightdress. Could it be morning already? Impossible. Brindl stumbled toward the heavy wooden door, cracking her toe on the only chair in the room. “Black tunnels!” she swore under her breath and finally managed to unlatch the door. She found a young girl standing there.

  “I am Lili,” the little girl said, offering her left palm to Brindl. The child’s smile seemed to steal most of her face. Brindl placed her palm on the girl’s and bowed.

  “How can I help you this early morning, Lili?”

  “It’s not so early now!” Lili answered, dipping her head to one side. “Why, even the horses are fed and the stalls cleaned already.”

  “I see,” Brindl said, though she didn’t. Nonetheless, she opened the door and motioned the girl inside.

  “I’m here to help,” Lili said, looking around Brindl’s tower room.

  “Help with what, exactly?” Brindl walked toward the stove to prepare a strong coffee to clear her head of cobwebs.

  “With the birds, of course,” Lili said, plucking the kettle from the counter and filling it with water. The girl obviously knew how to make herself useful. “You’ll be too busy with the regents, right?”

  It was true. The regents were expected to arrive that very afternoon. Brindl nodded, hoping her nerves didn’t show on her face.

  “At least you got to go to the Fray last night with your sweetboy.” Lili put the kettle on top of the burner and grabbed the broom from the corner.

  “Tonio? He’s not my sweetboy, just a friend,” Brindl answered firmly, wondering what the girl had heard or seen. She was supposed to be betrothed to Zarif, after all. At least that’s what everyone in the palace was to believe.

  “He’s not as sweet as a quarryman, I think,” Lili said, sweeping around the edges of the small kitchen area.

  “Quarrymen sweet? That’s not exactly how I’d describe them,” Brindl replied, remembering the huge fighters from last night.

  “But you’re wrong, you know.” Lili stopped her work to look up at Brindl like a love-struck puppy. “They’re sweet like honey to the gals they love.”

  “Lili, how old are you? Aren’t you a little young to be thinking of boys?”

  “I’m ten harvests already.”

  “Practically all grown up, then.” Brindl winked, but the girl seemed unaware that she was being teased.

  “That’s what I tell my older sister. ’Course I’m second-born, so I’ll have to be a servant to the realm until I’m twenty-one. But then”—Lili paused dramatically—“then I can find me a quarryboy.”

  Brindl smiled. The girl obviously didn’t consider the option of becoming a soldier in the Second Guard, just as she herself had not. And why should Lili? She’d probably never even held a sword or bow in her hand.

  “Do you go often to the Fray?” Brindl asked, grabbing the boiling pot with a dishtowel and pouring it over the ground coffee beans.

  “Every chance I get!” Lili said, pounding the corner with the broom, trying to release the stubborn cobweb stuck there. “It’s the most exciting thing ever all year.”

  “I liked it more than I thought I would,” Brindl admitted, pouring a splash of milk into her cup. She gestured toward Lili to ask if she wanted some. The girl smiled and nodded, so Brindl grabbed her an extra cup and poured plenty of milk in it.

  “Just wait until the next one! It will be even better!”

  “Really? How do you know?” Brindl asked, cutting two slices of cornbread and putting them on a plate.

  “Because it’s Moth versus Pretty Boy!”

  “I don’t know the fighters,” Brindl admitted, sitting down and motioning for Lili to join her. The girl leaned the broom against
the corner and sat down.

  “Well, my uncle is Moth. He’s the best fighter there is. Never been beat, not once.”

  “Undefeated?”

  “He always wins, ayup.”

  “Did you grow up in Quarry Town then?”

  “Oh, no. I grew up right here in the palace stables,” Lili said, her finger pointing out the window toward the south where they were located.

  “So how did a quarryman become your uncle?”

  “That’s easy. My aunt, she married him. I’m going to marry a quarryman, too, and live out in Quarry Town someday.”

  “You mentioned that,” Brindl said.

  Lili talked animatedly about many different topics, none of them readily connected except by the fact that she wanted to see it, try it, or eat it. Brindl, completely charmed by the little girl, found herself wanting to reach over and wipe the stray hair out of her big brown eyes. It was such a small thing, but having someone join her for breakfast made her realize exactly how lonely she’d been in the tower.

  After they ate, Brindl showed Lili her routine of taking care of the birds, adding seed, freshening the water, and alternating which cages to clean. Lili chattered while they worked, mostly about Quarry Town.

  “What do the women in Quarry Town do?” Brindl asked. “They can’t possibly carry pearlstone, can they? It’s so heavy.”

  Lili waved her hand at such a silly notion. “No, ’course not, but they do other things and help take care of all those workers.”

  “Those men must have appetites to match their size.”

  “Exactly. Lots of women make meals and deliver them to the quarry by alpaca,” Lili said, scooping up seed for the birds.

  “So the women run the kitchens?” Brindl asked.

  “Ayup. And others run transportation to the quarry or give grades to the stone.”

  “Grades? You mean they judge it on how good it is for color or quality?” Brindl thought of the salt miners at home, who did much the same thing.

  “I guess so,” Lili said, shrugging.

  Brindl pulled Pip out of the smallest cage, the one she saved for last, and showed Lili how to scratch the back of the bluejacket’s head. The bird cooed softly in Brindl’s palms and turned his head sideways, the tiny black eye blinking slowly. Lili looked up at Brindl and cupped her hands. Brindl nodded and gently put the baby in her sturdy fingers. Lili pulled the bird close to her face, and he pecked at her lips lightly.

  “What do I do if there’s a message?” Lili asked, worry crossing her pretty brown face for the first time since she arrived.

  “Oh, yes,” Brindl said, opening the cage while Lili carefully put Pip back inside. “There have been very few lately, but send for me if one arrives.”

  “Good! I wouldn’t know how to take it off their leg or even read it,” Lili said.

  Of course the girl can’t read, Brindl thought with a small twinge. Perhaps she could figure out a way to change that for Lili as Saavedra and Zarif had for her.

  “Will you be staying in the tower with me during the regents’ visit?” Brindl asked, locking the cage without having to look at it.

  “Oh, no. I’ll go back to the stables each night to sleep. I’d miss my mama and sisters too much!”

  “Of course you would, you should be with your family,” Brindl said, though she felt a snag at her heart. How nice it would have been to share her tower with this little ray of sunshine!

  Brindl pinched her pinky behind her back, trying to focus and calm her nerves. She stood near the wall several steps back from the officials, behind and to the right of the princess, a spot created for watching everything. Jaden had seen to that. All was ready for the regents, who were being presented formally to the court in a matter of minutes. Their entourages had arrived from both neighboring kingdoms within hours of one another, and they’d been given time to rest and prepare for the formal ceremony. Dozens of servants had been reassigned to both parties. Brindl had heard them complaining quietly as she went about her tasks. When it was finally time, she’d been ushered into the Queen’s throne room. Never had she seen such a chamber as this, even compared to the dozens of others in the palace.

  The room was really two in one. The first encompassed the entryway, with glass doors that shattered light like a million gemstones on the floor. A large fountain, made of pearlstone of course, cascaded a liquid that appeared to be something finer than water, both brighter and clearer. Large topiary bushes sat in each corner of the room, pruned into sharp edges, almost threatening with their points. A chandelier of a thousand candles lit the room, their bright flickering light casting golden shadows behind each servant and attendant. Two staircases split around the great fountain and curved to the top where the second room stood overlooking the first.

  The upper room was an even grander portrait of power and authority. Heavy plum drapes framed a dozen windows, and carpets softened the floor in scrolling patterns. Three equally spaced sconces lit the wall behind Queen Twenty-two’s throne, where portraits of the previous twenty-one Queens stared down from gilded frames.

  Brindl watched as Lady Ona approached her. “Prepared for pomp and boredom?” Ona asked, leaning over to whisper in Brindl’s ear.

  Brindl smiled thinly. “Yes, I think so.”

  “I hear you’ve shed your Earth Guild origins to become a lady,” Ona said, a smirk across her lips.

  “I’ve no shame in my origins,” Brindl whispered, trying to keep the anger out of her voice.

  “Betrothed to Zarif Baz Hasan, no less,” Ona continued, her voice pleasant though her eyes revealed nothing but condescension. “A fine catch for a miner’s daughter.”

  Brindl pinched her pinky even harder and said nothing.

  “Much improved,” Ona added, as if in satisfaction. “Nearly unrecognizable.”

  “What is?”

  “You. Almost as if you were born a Moon Guilder. Almost.” The extra word sliced off any compliment hidden behind it. Brindl wasn’t sure if she should respond. It was true enough, though. When she’d peered into the looking glass in Xiomara’s dressing room she had barely recognized herself—her hair done elegantly, the white full-length gown draped from her shoulders.

  A tap of the drum alerted them to the arrival of the regents. At least Lady Ona will shut up now.

  All one hundred Second Guard palace soldiers stood in formation from the entry doors below all the way up the staircases to the foot of the Queen’s throne. The message was plain: we are well prepared to defend ourselves and the realm. How fine they looked in the bright blue of Tequende, with white sashes for the ceremony. Tali and Chey stood along the steps while Jaden posted himself next to the Queen’s throne, impressive with his medals and ribbons adorning his finest uniform.

  Princess Xiomara sat to the right of the throne, one step down. Zarif perched behind her left shoulder as if he’d always been there. Brindl noticed Tali’s eyes cut to the Queen and Jaden.

  The regent from New Castille plodded up the stairs, winded by the time he reached the top. He hesitated before proceeding to the Queen, wiping his wide brow with a kerchief and removing his soft butter-colored gloves. No wonder he perspires so, Brindl thought. He wears layers as if he traveled to a mountain peak instead of a palace. The garments themselves had been created with the finest materials, velvets and satins, and embroidered with golden threads. His pants gathered below his knees, and his lower legs were clad in hosiery and short leather boots with pointed toes. A black hat with a wide, floppy brim embellished with a dark purple feather had been tucked under his arm. He was an enormously fat man, the largest Brindl had ever seen. The effect of his many layers of clothing and girth seemed to demand attention, which he appeared to relish.

  As he approached the Queen, he bowed elegantly, his hat somersaulting in his outstretched arm, one foot pointed, the other bent deeply. The Queen rose from her throne, stepped down the tiered dais, and offered her left palm, face up. He placed his palm on hers, aware of the customs of the realm. />
  “Welcome to Tequende,” Queen Twenty-two said, bowing her head slightly. Her elegant Moon Guilder gown, in shades of white, cream, and vanilla, spilled to the floor. The regent from Castille looked like an overdone pudding in comparison while the Tequendian Queen could pass for a goddess.

  “Lord Yonda, emissary from Castille, at your service, my Queen.” He bowed once more, lower this time, his head nearly touching his knee.

  “May Intiq bless your days and Elia your nights during your stay in Tequende,” the Queen said.

  “Neither Far nor Nigh Worlds can compete with the renown of Tequende’s art, music, and food.”

  “Thank you, Lord Yonda,” the Queen said, taking his hand and leading him to a place on the dais. “I look forward to our visit.”

  “Not half as much as I do,” he said, kissing the top of her hand. The Queen moved back in front of the throne to receive the Andorian regent, who next appeared at the top of the stairs.

  He was quite young for such a lofty position and cut an elegant figure with his black hair and eyes. He wore a bloodred military uniform with detailed embroidery along the cuffs and edges. A silver cape snapped around his neck and shimmered in the candlelight. He bowed.

  “Queen Twenty-two of Tequende, may I present you with a token of peace brought to you from my lady, the Queen of Andoria.” He handed her a small box, intricately carved and painted red with gilded latches. The Queen did not open the box but handed it to her advisor.

  “Welcome, Lord Paulin,” the Queen said, offering her palm. “May the Gods shine their light upon our time together.”

  “Indeed,” he answered, taking her hand and boldly looking into her eyes. He held both her hand and gaze for just a moment longer than expected. Brindl looked past them to see Lord Yonda’s lip curl slightly upward, as if he had just smelled something particularly rank.

  From her position behind the princess, Brindl had an excellent view of the entire ceremony. She studied the faces of the players and tried to read their expressions, especially their eyes, despite the niceties that spilled from their lips. While these occasions were meant for false compliments and tedious, long-winded proclamations, Brindl determined she would take as much information back to Princess Xiomara as possible.