City in Ruins

by R. K. Ryals

  The dark treeline that marked the entry into the forest rose before us, and I called on the woodland.

  The wind picked up around us, whipping the trees and the grass into a frenzy. Horses reared behind us, throwing off their riders. Men yelled.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  The forest closed in around us, tree limbs lowering to help propel us forward.

  “We have you, child,” the trees soothed. “Come, we shall protect you.”

  My heart bled, the love I felt for the woodland spilling into my touch as I stroked the trees and foliage around us.

  We’d run several miles, mostly carried by the trees, when the forest deposited us in a clearing, the grass bathed in moonlight. Releasing the king, I laughed, my face full of joy, my hands rising above my head.

  My gaze found Brahn’s. “Welcome to my kingdom, Your Majesty.”

  Around us, the trees bent, bowing.

  Chapter 25

  For the first time in weeks, I felt like I was home. That was the thing about the forest. You didn’t have to be in a particular kingdom to belong. The forest belonged to everyone. The forest nurtured and bettered its people.

  In the forest, I knew how to live.

  Upon our escape, the trees helped us find food and water before showing us to a place of rest. The king slept soundly in what was probably the first time in years, but I sat up, my gaze on the leaves hanging over our heads, on the stars and moon staring down at me. Here, I was home.

  Inhaling deeply, I touched the forest floor, letting my fingers dig into the rich soil, the land calling to me.

  “Ari,” I whispered.

  The falcon had not followed us across the sea from Medeisia, but I knew the trees and oceans would deliver her name and she would come.

  “You’re troubled, child,” the trees said.

  I laughed softly. “You’ve always been good at that, at the way you determine my mood.” I sighed, my shoulders rising and falling. “I’m going to need help. I’m going to need information about incoming ships, and I’m going to need a way to get the king a change of clothes and a way to shave. We need soap and time.”

  A vine climbed over my foot, wrapping itself around my ankle before releasing me. “Do you think cleaning the man up will make him a king?” the trees asked.

  I glanced at Brahn, at the way his lined face smoothed out when he was sleeping. “No,” I answered, “but I do think it will go a long way toward making him feel like one. It’s only been four years. His people will not have forgotten his face. His grandson will not have forgotten his appearance.”

  My brows furrowed.

  “There’s something else?” the trees asked.

  I stroked the grass. “There is,” I said, standing suddenly.

  For the first time, I did something tremendous without help. I became a queen.

  My head held high, I ordered, “Have the winds, the trees, and the animals send a message to Medeisia and to Feras. Tell the dragon rex that we need an army to back King Brahn in New Hope. Even if the ships won’t make it in time for us to stand up against Blayne, it’s knowing we have the troops en route that could make all the difference. Also, send a message to Lochlen and Cadeyrn, wherever they are. Tell them that I’m okay, and that I need them in New Hope. Tell them to bring warriors, but don’t tell them why. We need the element of surprise with King Brahn.” Giving the trees a fierce look, I added. “I’m serious, no telling Lochlen. For once, it may be better if I know something before him.”

  The trees chuckled. “As you wish, Queen.”

  Even as odd as the word felt, I did not correct them. Cadeyrn was right. If they wanted a queen, I needed to give them one.

  My gaze found the sleeping king, my heart clenching at the pain I knew Cadeyrn was going to have to face. There’d been so much betrayal in his life.

  Lochlen’s and Cadeyrn’s words rang true. How much did a woman have to go through before she went mad? How much did a man have to lose before he became ruthless?

  I was determined to keep my sanity, and I was banking on Cadeyrn’s ability to retain his humanity.

  My hand found the trunk of a tree, my palm pressing against the bark. Trees were like people in many ways. Cut them down and inside you would find their memories, the rings that told you about their life. They carried so much time and spirit within them. They carried so many stories. They were like living, breathing Archives.

  “You’ve grown so much over the past two years, little one,” the trees said.

  I exhaled, a multitude of emotions swirling within me. My stomach hurt, and I pressed my palm against it, the nausea that rose up within me causing me to lean against the tree.

  It was too soon to tell, but I knew without a doubt that I was carrying Cadeyrn’s child. How I knew was beyond me. I think the knowledge came from the forest and from the gods, but I knew the child was there. The nausea was only the beginning.

  “Did I make the right decision?” I asked the trees.

  Even queens had doubts.

  A limb came down, tapping my shoulder. “The question isn’t if you made the right decision. The question is did you make the right decision for you?”

  I clutched my stomach, my heart pounding. Without a doubt, I knew the decision I’d made hadn’t just been for Medeisia. I’d wanted a part of Cadeyrn to keep with me forever. I’d wanted a part of him to raise and to love.

  The love I felt for the prince was like a tree root, digging itself deep into the soil and spreading out until it was impossible to tell where one tree began and the other ended.

  “Know this,” the trees said suddenly. “The child you and the prince have created will be incredibly powerful, born to the forests and to the people. He will bring worlds together, will bridge countries and races. His rule when it comes will unite us all, and we will do anything to protect that.”

  The trees’ vow lifted me, lightened my heart, and surrounded me with a sense of security. If the trees were right, I wasn’t just carrying Cadeyrn’s son, I was carrying a future king.

  Part III

  New Beginnings

  Chapter 26

  We’d been in the forest for four days, foraging and healing, when Ari landed among the branches.

  The falcon called down to me, and I shouted in greeting, my heart filling with joy. A pack dangled from her talons, and with no warning, she released it.

  Diving, I caught the bundle.

  “Good catch, little one,” Ari commended.

  I threw her a look before glancing at King Brahn. He’d flourished in the forest, the wild onions, roots, berries, and mushrooms we’d been eating more filling than what he’d ever received in prison. We’d even managed fish from a nearby stream.

  Gesturing at the falcon, I said, “This is Ari.”

  The king nodded at the bird. That was something else I was learning about Brahn. As much as he hated himself, his heart wasn’t as bad as he believed. Like Cadeyrn, he didn’t just listen to the forest, he looked the creatures in the eye. There’s a lot you can tell about a person when they’re willing to listen to all races, not just their own. Even if they were a different species.

  Sitting on a nearby log, I opened the pack, my heart jumping when I caught side of the contents.

  “We’re going to turn you into a king yet,” I said excitedly.

  Brahn glanced at me, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “I think I rather prefer being a wood nymph.”

  “Ha! Wood nymph!” the trees scoffed. “Fairytales created to make people fear the forest less.”

  I chuckled. “Because you’re so scary.”

  If King Brahn thought the sentence was strange, he didn’t mention it. He’d gotten used to me talking to the grass, the stream, the trees, and the animals.

  Lifting a bar of soap, I offered it to him. “You first,” I said, nodding at the stream. “There’s fresh clothes and a shaving kit.” Tilting the bag, I grinned widely.

  The king whistled. “The forest certainly k
nows how to help a man clean up.”

  Accepting the soap and the clean pair of clothes, he climbed down to the stream.

  Ari landed at my feet. “You’ve been missed, little one.” Her wings fluttered as she settled, her sharp gaze passing over the forest. “Feras has convinced the council to send men and two ships. They left today to walk across the bottom of the Ardus to the sea.” She glanced at me. “He’s also sending two dragons.”

  Nervous flutters danced within my stomach. I was making big decisions; decisions involving men, ships, and war, and it scared me.

  “Cadeyrn and Lochlen?”

  “They’re en route to New Hope. Their ship should dock on the morrow. They aren’t flying battle flags, but they’re prepared for a fight. Lochlen told me to tell you he knows you’re hiding something. Also, he’s impressed you’ve convinced the rest of us not to say anything.”

  I chuckled, the amusement short-lived.

  “Cadeyrn?” At his name, my hand flew to my stomach. It seemed a habit now.

  Ari didn’t miss the gesture. “Are you asking me about his plans or about him personally?” the falcon asked.

  “Personally,” I whispered.

  Ari’s gaze studied mine. “It wasn’t good when Lochlen, Reenah, and Oran returned to the ship with a half-mad Catriona, an unconscious Gryphon, and no you. The prince went into a rage, spending days at sea pacing the deck. Both Gryphon and Catriona have healed, and the babe the princess is carrying is flourishing. But while Catriona is healthy physically, she’s been battling nightmares. As for the prince, he heard what you did for the child, how you healed the princess and offered your life for the rest.” She paused.

  “And?” I prompted.

  Ari preened her feathers. “Stone, are you wanting me to tell you that the prince is going to be yours one day? Because if that’s the case, I can’t.”

  Swallowing past the sudden lump that formed in my throat, I whispered, “No, I don’t expect that.”

  Ari gave me one final look before rising into the air, her loud kek,kek filtering down from the trees as she took to the sky.

  Soft footfalls fell behind me. “I’m feeling more like a king already.”

  Turning, I found Brahn watching me, his beard and hair dripping wet, an odd expression on his face. The clothes were too loose on him, but they were fine clothes, the material suited for a king. Something told me Feras had a lot to do with that.

  Holding up the bundle, I smiled. “I think I’ll take my turn in the stream while you shave.”

  Pulling a second set of clothes free, I accepted the soap from Brahn and stumbled down the bank, tears crowding my eyes. I’d left the shaving kit in the bundle on the log, and I dropped my clothes on the stream bank, stripping the dirty, ripped garments from the prison off before wading into the rushing water. The stream was cold, and I clenched my teeth as I scrubbed, first my body and then my hair. Raised flesh marred my back from the whip in the dungeon, but the wounds were healed, and I was fairly positive even the scars would disappear over time. Unlike Kye, who’d been a map of scars because he’d had no powers, most mages didn’t have any. There were times I wished the marks would remain, not because I wanted to be reminded of the bad times but because I was also afraid to forget what I’d learned from them.

  Falling to my knees in the stream, I cried, letting the rushing water carry away my tears. There was no shame in crying. The shame was in not letting it hurt to begin with. In a way, I needed the tears to remind me that I was human, that no matter what I’d chosen to endure, it was okay to hurt. It was okay to feel loss.

  When the cold became too much, I stood and moved into the trees to shake the water free of my hair. The clean clothes Ari had brought were light, the tunic a little loose, and I slipped them on.

  With a deep fortifying breath, I climbed the bank, a forced smile on my face. It slipped as soon as I saw the king standing on the hill.

  He caught sight of me, and his brows cocked. “Well, do I look like a king?” he asked.

  Clean shaven, Brahn didn’t look anything like the decrepit old man I’d found in the palace dungeon. He wasn’t young, but neither was he decrepit, his lined face refined and wise, as if the bad things he’d done and the choices he’d made had left a well of wisdom in his heart.

  Falling on my knees on the forest floor, I bowed my head. “Your Majesty,” I whispered.

  The king laughed, his bare feet pausing before me. I’d forgotten about shoes.

  “Rise, Queen of the Forest,” he told me, offering me his palm. “You’ve earned the right to stand before royalty, my dear, without the need to fall to your knees.”

  My fingers touched his hand, and he pulled me to my feet, his kind gaze searching my face. “You’ve been through a lot of pain,” he said. “Pain far beyond the dungeons of New Hope, I’m guessing.”

  Silence.

  Brahn’s hand suddenly found my chin, his fingers lifting my face. “At one time, I think I made a pretty good grandfather. I made too many mistakes with my children, but my grandchildren never knew the man before my alliance with Sadeemia.” He sighed, a reminiscent smile on his face. “I’m going to be that grandfather now. Politics chooses many paths for people. Most often, it isn’t the right one. I am not my grandson, but I think it’s safe to say you shouldn’t give up hope in him just yet.”

  Stepping back, I smiled. “I’m afraid even if politics didn’t play a part in my life that I’d be unsuitable for the throne.”

  “Ah,” Brahn murmured. “Not a noble woman, I take it?”

  “I was raised as one. I’m the illegitimate child of a Sadeemian man of power and a middle class Medeisian woman.”

  Brahn scowled. “There needs to be some changes in the monarchy. When did we get so picky?”

  I grinned. “It wouldn’t help anyhow, Brahn. Your grandson is already married, and I actually really like his bride.”

  The king’s brows rose. “That would pose a problem.” Sitting on the log, he rubbed his jaw as if he were considering a solution.

  Laughing, I sat next to him. We’d had to move often since entering the forest, the trees warning us each time Blayne’s patrols came too close. His men were still searching the woods, and I knew it was because Blayne feared what I’d discovered.

  “If we succeed,” Brahn said suddenly, “you always have a place at my court.”

  His offer warmed my heart, and I reached for his hand, squeezing it the same way I had when we’d held hands beyond our cells. That was the thing about war and bloodshed. It created bonds that no council room could ever create. In war, you learned who to trust.

  “Thank you, but I have a scribe school back home that I’m looking to see flourish one day. It’s still under construction at the moment.”

  “A scribe school,” the king said thoughtfully. “That’s quite an impressive endeavor.”

  My smile answered him.

  Silence.

  It was then while we sat in companionable quiet that the trees warned us to move again. Rather than balk, I looked forward to the run. The adrenaline felt good, the things I knew we faced on the morrow leaving me breathless and nervous.

  Tomorrow, I fought a war of words, and if I wasn’t careful, I would lose.

  Chapter 27

  The next morning, King Brahn and I waited until Ari brought us word of Cadeyrn’s moored ship before we started walking toward town, keeping off well-known paths until we’d learned the prince and those who traveled with him had been welcomed into the palace.

  It was then, once we knew our people were safely inside, that we quit evading capture. We simply walked into the courtyard, our hands up, surrendering. By the looks on the guards’ faces, they’d been told to kill us on sight, but I’d been prepared for that, the sky filling with fluttering wings; birds and insects. The cacophony caused men to fall from the watch while others cursed, their confusion apparent. They’d been prepared to kill unwashed prisoners, not animals.

  Taking advantage of the cha
os, we stepped past the commotion and entered the palace, the ease making me grateful Brahn’s fortress didn’t have a draw bridge.

  Inside the entrance, two guards stood, their swords hissing as they pulled them free of their scabbards. One look at the clean shaven Brahn, and they froze, their brows furrowed.

  “We came to see the king,” I announced, my gaze dropping to their swords. “I’d prefer we avoid a fight, but if you’re unwilling …” I lifted my hands. Hundreds of small feet scurried across the palace floors.

  The guards’ eyes grew round.

  “Bloody hell!” one of them cried.

  A sea of mice, rodents, and insects entered the space and froze on my command.

  “A fight, gentlemen?” I asked “Or shall we pass?”

  After a moment’s consideration, the guards stepped aside, their hesitant gazes following King Brahn.

  Pausing before them, I held out my hand. “Your swords please. We’re a little underdressed after all.”

  The guards hesitated. I glanced at the wall of creatures behind me.

  The hilt of a sword smacked my palm, and my fingers wrapped around the cool metal, the weight welcoming. I’d never been particularly good with a sword, but it was better than no weapon at all. The second sword I offered to King Brahn.

  He accepted it, his gaze flicking to my face. “I’m impressed,” the king said. “Where did this girl come from?”

  I smiled. “Don’t ruin the bravado I’ve built up.”

  He winked.

  Swords in hand, we marched forward, our faces hard, our mouths firm. My ratty boots, and the king’s bare feet slapped against marble floors, the irony making my lips twitch. We were a sight to behold, the grandfather king and me.

  Pausing before the throne room’s arched double door, the design impressively decadent, we glanced at each other.

  My brows rose at the lavish entrance.