The Shadow Guard

by J. D. Vaughn

  Brindl and Xiomara rushed to a small wooden catapult that had been uncovered and struggled to ready it. Although Brindl had never operated one herself, she had seen them used during the Battle for the Alcazar. As Princess Xiomara placed apple-sized pearlstones into the contraption, Brindl released them into the oncoming soldiers as fast as she could. Several hit their marks, while others crashed into the quarry walls, adding to the din below.

  The guards continued to circle, their superior weapons and training giving them the advantage. Centurio Larus’s entire legion of one hundred palace guards had been called to service, and they fought with precision.

  Brindl watched as Goat, Pretty Boy, Axe, and others tried to engage individual soldiers in battle, to break their noose around the quarry, but the guardsmen gave no quarter. They continued circling, dodging blows, their swords poised and menacing.

  “Kill any who stand in your way!” Larus cried, aiming his crossbow into the pit and firing it into the crowd. A scream filled the air as a young man, no more than thirteen harvests, fell to the ground, an arrow through his chest. A woman, his mother certainly, ran out into the madness and crumpled to his side, weeping.

  Brindl, furious, turned to Larus. “You would kill a child in cold blood?” she shouted, then turned to the approaching soldiers. “Is this what the Second Guard has become? Burning homes, murdering children?”

  Centurio Larus aimed his crossbow at Brindl and nocked an arrow. But at the last second he changed targets and loosed it at the Diosa. The priestess dropped instantly, an arrow through her heart.

  The crowd stilled then, the fighting halted, as everyone stood in shock. The Diosa, their spiritual leader, was dead. Moth, too. The young boy.…Who would be next?

  “Surrender!” Larus yelled. “The quarry is mine!”

  The villagers looked at each other in despair, some of them lowering their weapons. Fallen bodies littered the quarry, like dolls thrown from the hands of an angry god. Blood stained the white pearlstone.

  Just then a large soldier stepped out of rank and ripped off his Second Guard jacket. “This quarry is not yours,” he yelled, throwing the uniform at Larus’s feet. “I fight for the Diosa, for Tequende, not you!”

  At his words, a dozen more guards followed suit, ripping off their jackets and joining the villagers in the pit.

  “For Tequende!” they yelled, as the heartened quarrymen took up the fight again.

  Brindl’s knees wobbled, but she bent again, pulling back the catapult’s leather apparatus and releasing the stone.

  Slowly, methodically, the tide of the battle turned as the quarry fighters rallied with the help of the guards who now fought by their side. The remaining guards, those who had chosen to stay with Larus, fought with less discipline now, clearly unsettled by the turn of events. Their hold loosened around the perimeter. Tali’s group of fighters had spread out among the quarry walls, and the soldiers now found themselves trapped between the fighters in the middle and those on the wall.

  Xiomara, who had worked tirelessly with Brindl on the catapult, now paused. “I’m afraid we might hurt our own people,” she said, surveying the scene. The fighting had died down, and several soldiers put their hands up in surrender.

  “Agreed,” said Brindl. “Surely Larus will call off his guards any minute now.” She looked around the pit to locate the man, but he was nowhere to be seen. Nor was the former Queen.

  “Brindl, quick!” someone said behind her, grabbing her shoulder.

  “Tonio!” Thank the Gods he’s unharmed.

  “Twenty-two, Larus, Paulin…they’ve left the quarry through the western pass. We have to get to the palace before they do.”

  “But—” Brindl looked at Xia, then beyond her to the fight.

  “I’ll stay,” Xiomara said, reading her thoughts. “I won’t leave this quarry until the rest of our people are safe. You go. Find a way to stop Twenty-two, stop Larus, before they get to the palace grounds.” Her glance flickered briefly on Tonio. “You know how vengeful they are. I would not see any more people hurt.”

  Brindl gave Xiomara a quick hug, then followed Tonio up a path out of the quarry. They walked quickly, almost at a trot, spilling tiny pebbles and pearldust down the steep, narrow passage.

  Tonio led them away from the noise and smoke of Quarry Town to a wooded trail that paralleled the cart path to Fugaza. Quickly but quietly they made their way through the woods, taking cover in the thick brush. Before long, they spied Twenty-two and her small party—Larus, Paulin, Ona—walking briskly along the cart path. Obviously, the horses they’d used to travel to Quarry Town were gone, perhaps spooked by the fire, or released by one of the villagers.

  Now that the battle was behind them, the cold pressed into Brindl’s clothes, and anger found her, too. The Diosa. The boy. Moth. How easily Larus had killed them all. How easily Twenty-two had stood by and let it happen. Brindl watched the once mighty Queen and her lady’s maid struggle to stay upright on the uneven path, their delicate Moon Guilder shoes no match for the rugged landscape.

  A group of Second Guard riders approached from around the curve. Tonio grabbed Brindl’s hand and the two ducked behind a tree, blending into the landscape.

  Brindl peered out from her hiding place and almost cried out in relief when she saw who it was.

  Zarif. Chey. Jaden.

  So Jaden is alive.

  Brindl watched Twenty-two blanch upon seeing him, but recover just as quickly.

  “Thank the Gods you’re here!” she said. “The quarry workers are rioting. They’ve set their own town aflame!”

  “How did this come to be?” Jaden demanded of Larus.

  “It was an ambush. They tried to overthrow the Queen!”

  “That’s a lie!” Brindl cried, rushing out from the woods. “They’re lying!”

  Tonio emerged as well and stood beside Brindl. “Seize Twenty-two,” Tonio said. “Seize all of them! They’ve killed the Diosa. They’ve set fire to the quarry.”

  Jaden glanced quickly at Brindl, who nodded. “He speaks the truth.”

  Immediately, the three riders circled Twenty-two’s party, creating a triangular barrier, their horses helping to form a blockade.

  “Release us,” demanded Paulin, his face nearly white with indignity. “I will not be treated as a prisoner here.”

  “Quiet,” Jaden said, as Chey steered his horse in Paulin’s direction, forcing the regent to scramble backward. Lady Ona, as usual, remained silent and stony-faced.

  Brindl stepped forward then, face-to-face with Twenty-two. “This woman is no longer the Queen. The Diosa, last living Daughter of Machué, proclaimed Xiomara the rightful Queen of Tequende, before he put an arrow through the Diosa’s heart,” she said, pointing to Larus.

  Across from her, she saw Chey’s eyes widen. “He also ordered the Second Guard to execute innocent people. Thankfully, many of your guardsmen defected—those who had a conscience—to help the villagers. I believe the battle is nearly over. Xiomara—Queen Twenty-three—is down there now. Many are wounded. Some are dead.”

  “I suggest we take these people straight to the palace dungeon, Commander,” said Zarif, his normally calm face filled with cold fury.

  “Agreed,” said Jaden.

  Just then, Larus stepped behind Brindl and grabbed her in one swift motion. He pulled her against him, his blade pressed against her throat, before anyone could react.

  Brindl felt her pulse beat against her like a drum.

  “You will hand over your horses,” Larus said, pressing the blade deeper, “or I will slice her to the bone.”

  “Unhand her, Larus. There’s no need for more violence,” Zarif said, looking at Brindl in alarm.

  “The horses!” Larus demanded.

  Zarif was the first to dismount, handing his horse to Twenty-two, though his eyes spit fire at her. Chey handed the reins of his horse to Lady Ona. As she threw a leg over the animal, her gown pulled up, revealing spindly legs with broken veins and a scar over h
er left knee. Even with a sword to her neck, Brindl couldn’t help but notice how Lady Ona rushed to cover her legs, her vanity ever-present, though she’d just witnessed a bloody battle.

  Finally, Paulin snatched the reins from Jaden’s hands and hastily jumped into the saddle. They galloped off without a backward glance, as Centurio Larus remained behind, his sword still at Brindl’s neck.

  “Release her,” demanded Jaden. “You have what you want now.”

  Larus backed away slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the soldiers. “I’ll do no such thing, for she is my ticket to freedom.”

  No I am not, thought Brindl, slowly reaching a hand under her tunic.

  In one quick movement, she pulled out the dagger from Lord Yonda and plunged it straight into Larus’s thigh. The centurio staggered as Tonio burst from the side of the road and bashed a chunk of pearlstone onto the back of Larus’s head.

  The centurio collapsed to the ground, his sword clattering on the road.

  This training manual, commissioned by the wise and magnanimous Queen Twenty-two, should be kept on hand at all times by every servant and attendant to the Crown, for the glory of our realm depends upon obedience.

  —CH. N. TASCA, Palace Etiquette

  (If you happen to be reading this tiresome book, may I suggest instead The Rise of Tequende: A History by M. de Saavedra, with revisions by Z. B. Hasan, to truly understand the hard-won glories of our realm—B. T.)

  Brindl sat at the western edge of the palace, perched on top of the storage trunk. She settled into the best spot with the widest view of Fugaza through the battlements and pulled Pip out of her pocket. The bird peeped quietly as if he didn’t wish to disturb Brindl’s slice of peace.

  “How good it is to see you, my little friend.” She stroked the top of his head, just as he liked, and he rewarded her with friendly pecks to the palm. Brindl knew the stolen moment wouldn’t last, but she’d hoped to have a few minutes more before she heard the chamberlain’s heavy steps approach. Two months ago, Brindl would’ve rushed to right herself and look presentable, but now she stayed on her cozy roost and acknowledged the woman with a nod.

  “Lady Brindl,” the chamberlain began, gesturing to the tower room.

  “Just Brindl, please.”

  “Yes, well…” The chamberlain paused, obviously struggling to adapt to her new role with someone who had once—and not that long ago—been leagues below her in rank. “Brindl, Lili has gone to gather her things. She’ll begin sharing the tower rooms with you tonight.”

  “Yes, very good,” Brindl said, smiling at the thought of sharing her space with the little charmer.

  “It’s just…Would you not prefer more comfortable quarters in the palace?”

  “I would not, thank you just the same.”

  “But”—the chamberlain hesitated again, searching for words—“is it not unseemly for a person in your new position—Counselor to the Queen—to share quarters with a pigeonkeep?”

  “Ah, yes, unseemly. That reminds me…” Brindl stood and walked to the tower, motioning for the chamberlain to follow. Inside, she pulled a book off her shelves. “Here it is. Palace Etiquette. I don’t believe I’ll be needing it any longer,” she said cheerfully, handing it over.

  “What about Lili?” the Chamberlain asked.

  “No need! She’ll catch on quick; she’s bright as a button.”

  The chamberlain took the book and frowned. “I’ll be leaving, then.”

  A most excellent decision, Brindl thought, though she held her tongue.

  Not long after the chamberlain left, Brindl heard a knock at the door.

  “Come in, Zarif,” she called. Often of late he’d made a habit of finding her at the end of the day for a cup of chocolate and a chat.

  Zarif followed her companionably into the kitchen, where the chocolate was already waiting, warm on dark coals. She poured the cups and carried them out to the roof, the familiar crunch of Zarif’s wooden crutches on the stony surface beside her.

  “Did I tell you about Ory’s decision?” Brindl began, handing Zarif a cup once he’d settled onto the trunk.

  “What did our little hero decide?” Zarif asked, taking a sip of the hot beverage.

  Brindl smiled. Ory was a hero, after all. He’d led dozens of families to safety during the battle of the quarry, including many young children. For his bravery, Xiomara had offered him a position at the palace, but he preferred to stay in the mines. Too many Toppers up top, he’d said with his funny grin. Besides, we have a whole new batch of firsties who don’t know their pick from their axe!

  Brindl chuckled, remembering the conversation. “Ory promises to visit, but he prefers to stay in the mines. He plans to train the first-year miners, as I once did.” She placed Pip on top of the battlement between them where he hopped around and picked at the small pebbles, looking for something to eat. “He was heartbroken over the loss of the Diosa, of course.”

  “A needless tragedy,” Zarif said, shaking his head. He reached out his finger and Pip jumped onto the perch, then off again.

  “Yes.” Brindl paused. She’d thought a great deal about her last conversation with the Diosa; in fact, she had played it over and again in her mind. “But I think she knew it was going to happen…that she was going to die at the quarry.”

  “Truly?” Zarif stopped petting Pip and looked directly at Brindl. She’d forgotten how golden his eyes were, almost the same color as Intiq’s fading light.

  “Truly. She said if she ever left the mines she’d never return. And then she asked, ‘Is it time?’ I was so distraught and confused, I didn’t understand the significance of her question then. But I’m the one that told her yes, Zarif. That it was time.”

  “But you didn’t kill her, Brin. You can’t hold yourself responsible for that. That lands squarely on Larus’s shoulders, no one else’s. And he’ll spend the rest of his life in a dungeon for it,” Zarif added, though it wasn’t much consolation for either of them.

  “Is he still claiming that Twenty-two was innocent of all wrongdoing?” Brindl asked.

  Zarif nodded. “Still blindly loyal. According to him, Twenty-two was poorly advised by those who would abuse her power, namely Ona, and then Paulin. He says Ona planned to get rid of Xiomara so she herself would become Queen-in-Waiting.”

  “The chandelier!” Brindl cried, putting the pieces together. “That was Ona?”

  “Most likely,” Zarif answered, leaning forward to watch the sun slide past the Sentry Hills. “Though we may never know. Rumor has it that Ona, Paulin, and Twenty-two have boarded a ship to the Far World.”

  “The farther, the better,” Brindl said, “though I’m surprised they didn’t take exile closer to home to plot their revenge.”

  “Apparently, Twenty-two is afraid the Shadow Guard wants her head for the destruction of Quarry Town. Meanwhile, Paulin’s Blood Queen, Beatríz, has offered them asylum.”

  Brindl shivered as a breeze came down the mountains, and she scooped Pip into her pocket. “They deserve each other. But the Shadow Guard leaders would not seek revenge, I’m certain of that. They’ve agreed to stand down, and the talks with Xia have gone well. They have enormous respect for her. And trust.”

  “Thanks to you,” Zarif said.

  “Thanks to both sides. I’m just the intermediary. A messenger bird.”

  Brindl stood then and moved the few steps toward the battlements to see the last bit of sun brighten the Magda River. It looked like a golden snake slithering through the green valley. A quiet blanketed the scene, as workers moved inside for the evening meal with friends and family.

  Zarif joined her at the battlement. “You’re more than a messenger. All along you saw what I could not see. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to realize how small my view of Tequende was, how much I chose to overlook. I have much to learn from you, Brindl. Will you forgive me?”

  “Of course,” she answered, turning toward him. “And I have much to learn from you, Zarif Baz Hasan. History
, politics, economics, what to feed Lord Yonda during his visit next month…”

  Zarif smiled. “We’ll teach each other, then,” he said, placing his hand on hers.

  “I like that idea.”

  “We’re here!” sang Tali, from across the roof.

  “And we have a cake!” called Chey.

  “Mama Rossi made you the one with honey, Brin,” Tonio added. “Your favorite!”

  Brindl and Zarif shared one last smile, then turned to greet their friends.

  May every evening be this lovely, thought Brindl.

  And may this be the first of thousands.

  My dearest Brindl,

  I’m finally taking a moment on the balcony to write you a letter, much overdue. It is a perfect afternoon, so I decided my desk in the library could spare an hour without me. A slice of sunshine has found me, and I feel like a cat sunning myself, listening to the great Magda rush below. I promised to catch you up on our news, so I must endeavor to do so.

  The Queen’s Library has expanded under Zarif’s keen direction and he has devised a way for any citizen of the realm to borrow a book. Of course, he makes them sign in blood that—should calamity befall them—they will save the book before themselves, their belongings, and even their offspring! I’ve allocated a large budget for his acquisitions and less for glinting objects from the Far World, though I have commissioned several sculptures from Tonio Rossi, of which I think you will approve. Quarry Town has been completely rebuilt, and soon the town square will be wreathed in monuments to the Diosa, Moth, and all those who fell during battle, may the Mother hold them. I do hope you’ll be able to join us for the unveiling.

  A fortnight ago Tali and Jaden returned to report on the state of our borders to the north. Tali is much improved in disposition with her new responsibilities. After several nights here, they commenced their journey west, and then they will head south to the Alcazar for the next round of recruits. Jaden, too, seemed in high spirits and I do suspect their happiness is a direct result of their proximity to each other.