by Vicky Savage
The hilt is longer than normal, because it’s intended to be held with two hands to exert more force. The blade is long and slightly curved. I do my best to get the arc just right. We don’t actually use katana in Kendo practice. It’s too dangerous. We use wooden swords called bokken. For sparring we wear leather armor, known as bogu, and use shinai, or bamboo swords. But my sensei made certain we all trained with a katana occasionally to practice our grips and get used to the heft and feel of the weapon.
Once I’m satisfied with my drawings, it’s time to dress for the day. We’ll be riding, so I need to wear pants, but Lady Lorelei is very cool and put together, and I always feel frumpy just being in the same room with her. Since I don’t need any more unnecessary hits to my ego, I decide to gussie-up a little. Instead of my usual wool riding pants and sweater, I choose a silky white blouse with a lace Edwardian collar, and a gorgeous wine-colored jacket embroidered with tiny blue and gold flowers. I like the effect with my chocolate brown riding pants and knee-high boots.
“You look very nice today,” Ralston says when we meet at the stables.
“Thanks Rals. What’s he doing here?” I ask, eyeing the very large, very well-armed member of the Royal Guard standing next to him.
“I thought it best to have a guard ride along with us today, what with all the uncertainty.” He casts a knowing look my way. “General LeGare recommended this young chap. His name is Patrick Stillwater.”
Patrick startles me by going down on one knee. He crosses his right arm over his heart. “Your Highness, I swear to defend and protect you with my life,” he says.
“Well, all right. That’s great. Stand up.”
Seems like overkill, but until we know what Uncle Harold’s up to, we need to be careful who we trust. Patrick is well over six feet, with skin the color of café latte and eyes like Tupelo honey. I suspect some of his ancestors may have been African slaves, because his complexion is darker than most Domericans. But, when the Great Disaster occurred and people fled into the domes, all slavery was eliminated, and everyone was considered to be among the “chosen.” All taboos against intermarriage were erased, making it difficult to guess anyone’s heritage at this point.
Our ride into town is peaceful and uneventful. No highway robbers or masked marauders. Warrington Village is a quaint little community right out of another century, with wooden sidewalks, hitching posts, and water troughs. The locals quickly take note of our arrival, and a small crowd forms around us as we tie our horses in front of Bartlett’s Silversmiths. By now, all the townspeople have heard the story of Princess Jaden’s astonishing reappearance, and I suppose they just want to see for themselves. A few villagers gasp as they draw close. “It’s really her,” they say, or “She looks just the same.” Patrick ensures that no one gets too near as they toss me their lace hankies or reach out to touch me.
Ralston and I hustle into the shop, while Patrick stands guard outside the door. Inside we’re greeted by a security guard, who bows deeply. “Please follow me, Your Highness. Lady Lorelei is expecting you.”
He leads us to a small room at the back, and pulls aside a blue velvet curtain covering the door. Lady Lorelei instantly rises from her chair and glides over to us. She’s just as stunning as I remembered. Her gown is a tone-on-tone apple green silk that clings to her lithe form in all the right places. Her sunshine-ivory hair flows long and loose around her shoulders, held in place by a headdress of golden netting dotted with seed pearls. A large peridot ring, the exact shade of her dress is her only jewelry. She looks as if she stepped out of a Botticelli painting. I feel like I should curtsey. Instead she curtseys to me, and then takes my face in her slender hands. Her glittering eyes probe mine.
“Cousin, I am so thankful to see you. Of course we feared the worst, and were overjoyed to hear of your homecoming. Are you quite well?”
Her heartfelt concern makes me smile. “Yes. I’m well, thank you.”
She turns to Ralston. “Professor, so good to see you again. I was delighted to hear that I was to receive a visit from you both today.” She gestures to some velvet-covered armchairs arranged around a small table. “Please be seated,” she says to us. “May I offer you some refreshment?”
“Nothing for me, thanks,” I say, seating myself in one of the chairs.
Ralston declines also, and takes the chair next to mine. Lorelei sits opposite us.
She inquires about Mother’s health, and expresses her sympathy for what we are going through dealing with the illness. After a few additional polite remarks about Father and Drew, she asks how things are faring with Uncle Harold and Osrielle now living in the palace. I glance Ralston’s way, not knowing how much I should share with Lorelei.
Taking his cue, he clears his throat. “Princess Jaden has some business she would like to discuss with you first, then, if you are amenable, we wish to have a confidential conversation with you regarding some troubling stories that have reached our ears, perhaps involving Prince Harold.”
Lady Lorelei clasps her hands and rests them on the table. She tilts her head slightly, and focuses on me, her expression serious. “I’m very glad you have come, Cousin. I did not think it my place to come to you, but there are some things of which you should be aware, now that you are home—things of which your mother is most likely unaware.”
Ralston and I exchange a look. Sounds ominous.
“But of course, business first,” she says assuming a lighter tone. “What can I do for you, Cousin?”
Pulling the drawings from my jacket pocket, I spread them on the table facing Lorelei. “I need a katana, a Japanese samurai sword. Would you be able to make one for me?”
She studies my drawings and smiles. “These are very good likenesses. May I ask what you wish to do with this katana?”
The question is unexpected, and I have no plausible explanation for how I would know how to use one. I can’t very well tell her the Outlanders taught me.
She senses my hesitancy to speak. “Forgive me, Cousin. Of course it is none of my business. I wish only to know if it is to be employed as a weapon, or merely put on display.”
“As a weapon,” I mumble.
“Very well. I can forge one for you, but the appropriate types of steel are currently not available to me, and I cannot have them imported in light of Dome Noir’s suspension of trade with Domerica. Also, the process is quite lengthy. The polishing alone can take up to three weeks. How soon do you require this sword?”
“Like now,” I say deflated. I’m much better with a katana than a regular sword, and I’m getting the impression I might just need it.
“I believe I may have a solution for you.” She rises gracefully from her chair. “If you will excuse me for a moment, I have something I would like to show you.” She wafts from the room, and returns a few minutes later followed by two young male employees, each carrying a long thin wooden box. She asks the men to place the boxes on the table. “I purchased two antique samurai swords at an auction in Cupola de Vita several years ago,” she says, as she lifts the lid of each box. “I wasn’t certain I would ever be able to sell them, but they were so beautifully crafted I could not pass them up.”
She places a hand on a sword with a black saya, or scabbard. “This one is a tachi, and may be a bit long for you.” She lifts the other sword from its box. “But I believe this one was designed for a woman.” She carefully withdraws the sword from its scarlet saya. “There are tales of courageous women samurai, the most famous of whom is Tomoe Gozen, I believe.”
Her knowledge of samurai history is impressive. I’ve never even heard of Tomoe Gozen. She balances the blade on her two open palms and presents it to me for inspection. It’s fearsomely beautiful. The mirror finish shines like the moon, and the ha looks razor sharp. “May I try it?” I ask.
“Of course.”
I position myself several feet away from the others. Katana must be treated with respect. They can be extremely dangerous, not only to those in close proximity, but t
o the wielder as well. The tsuka, or handle, fits my hands perfectly, better than any other katana I’ve held. Lorelei is surely correct; this must have been made for a woman. I try a few practice swings, called suburi. The blade sings as it slices the air. It’s thrilling, and a little scary. A surge of power runs through my arms, and I know I’ll feel safe with this by my side.
“This is amazing. More than I could have hoped for,” I tell Lorelei. “May I take it with me today?”
“Certainly. It will be waiting for you when you are ready to depart.” She signals the two young men who replace the swords in the boxes and carry them from the room. Lorelei pulls back the velvet curtain covering the entry and asks the security guard to lock the front door. We all take our seats at the table again. “Now, Cousin,” she says. “Let us discuss Prince Harold.”
NINETEEN
Lorelei asks my permission to have her husband, Lord Bartlett, sit in on our conversation. He’s currently on the Council of Advisors, and she believes he may have some additional insights on Uncle Harold. I readily agree, figuring the more information I have, the better.
Lord Bartlett moves the velvet curtain aside, and ducks into the room. I nearly stand to greet him, but catch myself, remembering to stay seated and let him come to me. He’s almost as tall as Ryder, and nearly as handsome, with chestnut hair neatly pulled back in a ponytail and hazel eyes that burn with intelligence. “Princess Jaden,” he says bowing, “how very good to see you looking so well.”
I never actually met him before, but the princess knew him. “Thank you, Jacob. It’s good to see you, too. Please join us.”
He seats himself next to Lorelei. After an awkward moment of silence, I realize everyone’s waiting for me to speak first. “Uh, thank you for agreeing to meet with us.” I cut my eyes nervously to Ralston. He’s better at this than I am, and luckily he obliges and jumps in to rescue me.
“Many things have changed at the palace since Princess Jaden’s unfortunate accident. Not the least of which is the appointment of Prince Harold as Lord High Steward. The princess is attempting to sort through all of these changes, in order to ensure that the queen’s policies are being properly carried out. We have received word of some disturbing events that have occurred in Domerica, which may or may not be attributable to Prince Harold or his affiliates. We hope that you feel comfortable enough to speak freely and candidly with Princess Jaden regarding anything that might help to enlighten us further.”
Lorelei and Jacob exchange a look. Jacob rests his long arms on the table and leans forward. “Princess, if I may, your mother has not been well enough to attend Council of Advisors’ meetings for the last two months. In that time your uncle has announced certain changes which he seems to believe he is unilaterally authorized to make. I am not certain whether he has discussed these changes with the queen, and I am equally uncertain that she would approve of them if he had.”
“What kinds of changes?” I ask.
“Prince Harold intends to establish a cavalry unit of the Royal Guard and arm them with guns and rifles. Something which your mother has adamantly opposed in the past. In addition, he has undertaken to begin construction on a wall around the entire Unicoi Village. I believe he intends to isolate the settlement and restrict travel into and out of the village. Most troubling, though, is the announcement that he intends to reopen talks with Dome Noir and Cupola de Vita regarding their proposal for the construction of a new dome. The queen has been steadfast in her opposition to such a project. The Council stands firmly behind her on this issue.”
I was vaguely aware of some of this, but when Jacob lays it all out together, it sounds like Uncle Harold has completely run amok. “I had no idea things had gone this far,” I say. “Honestly, we were just here to see if you’d heard any rumors about some vandalism, destroyed crops, and poisoned livestock.”
“There is that also,” Lorelei says softly, her eyes flashing angrily.
“Seriously? Involving Uncle Harold?” I ask.
“No proof exists that he was responsible, but we are familiar with a tragedy that befell the Selkirk Farms after farmer Selkirk had a dispute with Prince Harold over horses which were ordered for the new cavalry unit.”
“What kind of tragedy?”
“One morning last week, twenty of Selkirk’s finest horses were found dead in their stalls. It was discovered that the water in their troughs was tainted. As I say, there is no proof, but Prince Harold had recently accused Selkirk of deception, and vowed to extract a price.”
This news twists my stomach into a pretzel. I know farmer Selkirk. Gabriel came from his horse farm. Such gorgeous animals. What a heartbreaking loss. Leaning back in my chair, I blow out a long breath. I’m way out of my league here, and I know it. But I’ve got to do something if Uncle Harold really is involved.
“Thanks for being so honest with me,” I say. “I suppose I need to have a conversation with Mother about this. I hate to upset her. She’s so frail right now. But she needs to be informed.”
Jacob speaks up. “May I respectfully suggest an alternative? Perhaps you should begin attending the Council meetings in Queen Eleanor’s stead. We also do not wish for you to trouble the queen while she is so ill. But I assume she would have no objection to appointing you as her representative to preside at these meetings. That way Prince Harold would merely be another voice, another member of the Council, instead of acting as dictator.”
“That sounds reasonable,” I say. Actually, it’s a great idea. If I can’t get rid of Uncle Harold right now, at least I can undercut his power a little.
“Regarding the other matters, the attacks against our citizens,” Lorelei says, “perhaps if someone such as yourself ordered an investigation into these matters, the perpetrators would be caught, or at least their activities curtailed. So far, very little action has been taken. The villagers’ complaints have largely been ignored.”
“I’ll see what I can do about that,” I say. “Jacob, I have the sense that General LeGare is completely loyal to my mother and wouldn’t do anything she didn’t approve of, even if ordered by Prince Harold. Do you agree with this? Would he make a good ally for me?”
“Yes. I believe he would. But we’re told he has sharply restricted his duties since your mother’s condition has worsened. That gap in leadership of the Royal Guard may be part of the problem.”
“Now that I’m here to help out with Mother, maybe we can get him back to work.” I stand, and everyone else automatically rises. “Ralston and I have another appointment, so we need to get going. Thanks again.” I hug Lorelei, and Jacob kisses my hand. They see us to the front door where the box with my new katana is waiting for me.
The crowd of townspeople has dispersed when we return to our horses. Handing the wooden box to Patrick, I ask him to strap it on my horse.
“Oh man,” I say turning to Ralston. “Can I really handle all this? I mean, things look pretty bad. I don’t think I’m capable of presiding over Council meetings, ordering up investigations, and all that other stuff they expect of me.”
He puts a hand on my shoulder and gazes into my eyes. “Yes you are, old girl. You just handled the meeting in there brilliantly. You have a strong sense of justice. Trust yourself to know what is right. I’ll be here to assist you, and you have other friends at the palace.”
“I hope you’re right,” I say, doubting that he is.
Someone calls out to me from across the street. “Beckett.” Patrick quickly steps into the road blocking the man’s path. “Beckett,” he shouts again.
“Asher?” I tell Patrick to let him by. “What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like that?” I ask, eyeing his odd outfit. Instead of his usual stylish clothing, he’s wearing a ratty old pair of cargo pants and an olive-drab jacket that looks vaguely military.
Asher shakes hands with Ralston and hugs me quickly. “I’m on my way to visit my family. I thought you might want to come along.”
“Really? That sounds like fun.” I�
��d love to meet Asher’s mother and sister and see what a post-nuclear war New York looks like. “Rals, is it all right?”
“What about our appointment with Chelmsford?” he says.
“Can you handle it on your own? I mean he’s your guy and all. Maybe you can just fill me in tonight. I could really use a break after the meeting we just had.”
He presses his lips tightly together. “Oh, I suppose so,” he says reluctantly. “But you’d best not be gone long. Remember you have an appointment this evening back at the palace.”
Oh yeah, my meeting with Ryder. I almost forgot. “How long will we be gone?” I ask Asher.
He checks his watch. “I can have her back here in two and a half hours,” he tells Ralston.
“All right. That should be satisfactory,” Ralston says, checking his own watch.
Yes!
Asher steps back and studies me. “You’re kind of overdressed for this trip. We may have to rub some dirt on you.”