by D A Godwin
It was across one such bridge that Shalindra’s party travelled, after riding unmolested through a Ceringion army half the size of the one surrounding Tiridon. A dozen of Edward’s knights rode three abreast in the van. City guards drew themselves to attention as the standard of Actondel rode past, and common people stepped from their path.
Shalindra had always liked that as a child, but today, for some reason, she found it annoying.
It doesn’t look like there was a siege.
No, it does not.
Riding just behind them, Argus seemed to be having similar thoughts. “We were told the city was sacked, but I see no signs of combat here,” he said. “Not one man in ten had dirt on his armor, and for all the show of force, I also saw no siege engines.”
Tormjere agreed. “Between those gates and the river, a handful of men could have held them here indefinitely.”
“You’ve got the right of it,” Argus said. “It’s a day downriver to the next safe crossing and at least as far the other direction. The city never should have been taken by force.”
“Perhaps it was not,” Shalindra said.
We must be cautious.
Once over the bridge, they turned to follow the canyon rim towards the castle, a compact but splendidly engineered compound with massive ramparts perched on the very edge of the canyon wall. Above the keep, the black and red banner of Gyldenholt flew below that of Actondel.
The main gates were open, though well-guarded. They paused only long enough to observe the necessary courtesies, and they were directed to the stables in the outer bailey. After surrendering their mounts to uniformed groomsmen who rushed to assist, they paused to regard their surroundings.
“Never seen a stable boy that looked so clean,” Argus muttered.
“Lord Gyldenholt has ever been known as a stickler for detail,” she replied.
“Shall I accompany you inside, my lady?”
Shalindra almost said yes, as he deserved the honor of entering by her side, but something gave her pause. “You are most worthy of that, though I would ask you to remain with the men.” She lowered her voice. “I feel a need to be cautious. Something is out of place, but I cannot put my finger on it.”
“Understood, my lady. I’ll keep them close for a time, though they’ll grumble.”
“I pray that I am wrong, and if so, every man shall be rewarded for their patience.”
Tormjere followed her beneath another gatehouse and into the inner bailey.
A guard raised a hand in challenge, but, having seen the banner she had ridden under, spoke politely. “Who comes this day?”
“I am Princess… Kataria,” she said, the name sounding foreign to her ears.
The guard bowed. “Your Highness, we were told to expect you. If you would proceed to the castle entrance, you will be met.”
Last time we rode all the way to the keep, and the courtyard was not this empty.
The doors to the keep opened as they drew near, and an impeccably dressed man she recognized as the castellan emerged and swept into a low bow. As always, his clothes were elegantly tailored and not a hair was out of place.
“We are so pleased to receive you again, Your Highness.”
“I am pleased as well, Lord Imner, though I wish the circumstances were more pleasant.”
“There is always pleasure to be found in any end to hostilities. If you would follow me, I shall show you to your rooms. I have kept the one with the balcony you enjoyed on your last visit just as it was.”
“Thank you, but I had hoped to see my father as soon as possible.”
“Completely understandable, Your Highness. However, my Lord Gyldenholt and your lord-father hold court in the great hall and have directed that they not be disturbed.” He stopped and looked past her shoulder, seeming to notice for the first time that only Tormjere was with her.
“My dear, where are your furnishings?”
She laughed. “I am afraid I have only what I am wearing.”
Imner looked aghast at the thought. “How terrible. I shall have them replaced.”
“You are most kind, my lord, but—”
“Kataria!”
Her smile widened at the sight of the sandy-haired boy several years her junior running down the stairs towards them. He stopped short, his eyes taking in her shorter hair and the weapon hanging from her belt. “You’re different.”
“Kentrick!” she exclaimed, embracing him. “I had no idea you would be here.”
He’s your brother?
The youngest of the three children. Can you see my memories now?
No, it just makes sense.
“Father needed one of us by his side,” Kentrick said. “Logian’s back in Merallin by now, to keep an eye on things. I was so worried about you. When we heard of what happened to Erbac…”
Shalindra felt Tormjere’s disgust at the mention of that name. It was surprisingly strong, but she found herself equally annoyed.
“What’s wrong?” Kentrick asked.
“I think I shall see my father now,” she said before setting off at a determined pace past the steps and towards a set of double doors.
“As I mentioned, Your Highness,” Imner said as he caught up, “your father has requested his court to remain closed.”
“I suppose that one of the Imaretii is with him.”
Imner grimaced. “Yes, Your Highness. This is a new thing since…” He stopped, obviously uncomfortable at the thought of criticizing the king.
Shalindra’s eyes narrowed. Whether from the long ride, or the longer road that had brought her here, she found herself without patience. “I am not in the mood to wait.”
“You know how much father hates being interrupted,” Kentrick said.
“It may be the least of his problems today,” Shalindra replied, opening the door. “You both should wait here.”
The heavy creak of the door interrupted the man who stood speaking before the throne, and who blocked her view to her father. Knights and squires were seated in the front rows. A few nobles were there in their finery, and lesser functionaries and courtiers stood around the edges, but there was a militant feel to the room. Conversation ceased as she stepped through the door. She felt Tormjere following a step behind but from the way everyone was staring at her she doubted that many in the room were even aware of him.
As she walked towards the throne, murmurs broke out in the crowd. When these people had last seen her, she had been a quiet girl with long hair and pretty dresses, dutifully entertaining and completely forgettable. Now clad in common white robes and with Shining Moon comfortably at her hip, she could not have been more different.
The grey-bearded man who had been speaking bowed his head to her and stepped aside, and she saw her father clearly for the first time.
He sat uncomfortably on the throne he always brought with him when he travelled. A simple crown of gold adorned his head, each spike the mast of a ship that seemed to sail around its circumference. He looked smaller than he should, and paler than she remembered.
At his side, where Steward Erbac had once belonged, was one of the hated Imaretii. The shock on the wizard’s face as recognition dawned on him was the only thing that brought her some level of satisfaction.
He wears a demon necklace.
We must keep him from using it.
The king lifted a hand in formal greeting. “My daughter, we are relieved to see you well again.”
“I am relieved to be here. There were many who have tried to see it otherwise.” She leveled her gaze directly at the wizard. Tormjere’s hatred of the man was swirling through his thoughts but she tried to ignore it.
“Chambers have been prepared for you. Retire there, and I will be with you shortly.”
“Why is he here?” she asked, still watching the wizard.
“I would not concern yourself with it now. We will speak later.” He waved forward a page to escort her.
“Did he threaten you with demons as well?”
“Assured by him?” she asked.
“What cause would he have to lie?”
“What cause would he have to tell the truth when a lie is accepted without question?”
The king frowned. “We regret all that has happened to you, but for now you will return to your chambers, so we may finish our council.”
Shalindra’s anger came boiling suddenly to the surface. Wizards had killed her uncle, sent their demons to kill hundreds if not thousands, including her, and now one stood at her father’s side. How could they not believe what she had faced?
Though he was behind her, she saw Tormjere pull one of the jeweled balls from a pouch and began toying with it. Each gem sparkled with light as he touched them, but his eyes never left the wizard.
“We have fought for months to keep our kingdom free,” she said sharply, “and now you surrender it? Were you bought or threatened?”
Her father sat momentarily speechless, taken aback at being addressed in such a manner. A part of her was equally surprised by her own anger, but her emotions overrode any sense of caution.
“The tide was turning,” she said. “We could have won. And behind the backs of every good man that fought and died for you, you have given it away.”
A murmur ran through the hall.
“You forget your place!” The king roared, rising from his seat. “Do not presume to lecture me when you’ve no idea what decisions were made.”
Beside him, the wizard’s hand twitched as he continued staring at Tormjere.
A knight, young and fair and in gilded armor that had never seen combat, stepped up to Shalindra. She did everything in her power to avoid thinking his name or even acknowledging his presence, but they had both seen him before outside Sandenmill.
“Betrothed, you must listen to your king,” he said sternly, placing a restraining hand on her arm. “He has wisely—”
Shalindra’s elbow snapped up and slammed into the knight’s jaw, and he fell to the floor clutching his face. Other men in his retinue stepped forward. The wizard tensed.
“Stop!” her father commanded.
A second jeweled thing appeared in Tormjere’s hand. Sweat began to bead on the wizard’s forehead, and he licked his lips nervously.
Shalindra stepped over the man at her feet. “Do you think this can end in any way other than the Imaretii’s complete domination of our Kingdom? I will not be party to such.”
“You will do as I command!” her father shouted.
“I do not follow a fool’s command.”
“You are a stupid little girl who has no idea what—”
“I am Shalindra, Guardian of Eluria! Those who would be slaves to the Imaretii hold no control over me.”
“You are my daughter!”
“I renounce my name and am ashamed to have ever been known as an Actondel!” The words were out of her mouth before she even realized she had said them.
The King stood dumfounded, his mouth moving without words coming out.
Fighting to keep her sudden fury in check, she turned sharply on her heel towards the door, ignoring the shocked looks on every face in the room.
“You may not leave,” the king commanded, a quiver in his voice. “I forbid it.”
“Oh?” Shalindra paused and looked over her shoulder. “Is your wizard going to stop me?”
The magician stared at them both, then reluctantly dropped his gaze to the floor. Tormjere gave him a dismissive frown before following Shalindra out the door.
“You were instigating,” she said, frowning at him as they swept past her brother and Lord Imner.
“I was keeping the wizard occupied so that you and your father could have a rational, uninterrupted conversation.”
“It was a risk, with all those people there. Had he summoned a demon… It would have been a bad place for violence.”
“You’re the one who punched a man in the face. Poor sot probably lost a tooth. I didn’t even get to hit anyone,” he said, trying to look innocent.
She threw him a black look.
“And you never said you were to be married,” he added, just for fun.
“It was an arranged marriage, you idiot,” she fumed. “I am the most eligible woman in the Kingdom; do you think I would have a say in the matter? That is half the reason we travelled last year, so I could be shopped to the highest bidder.”
Tormjere opened his mouth to poke further, but wisely reconsidered as Shalindra’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Kataria!”
They both spun and saw Kentrick rushing towards them.
“What did you do? Father is furious! You must speak to him again. Maybe tonight, once he’s had time to—”
“I have no intention of being here tonight,” she replied. “I must find someone who can still talk sense into him.”
“There’s no one left,” Kentrick said, looking around nervously. “Logian might, but he isn’t here.”
“I saw no one from Kendenhall. What happened to House Brouchard?”
Her brother looked like he might cry. “I don’t know. No one does. We’ve heard rumors, but… After Uncle Brouchard was killed, both our cousins announced for his holdings.”
This is taking too long. We need to leave while we can.
Tormjere’s eyes were darting around, taking in every nook and cranny as if they were surrounded by enemies.
She sighed and started walking again, because he was right.
Kentrick stayed glued to her side. “Kataria, what are we to do?”
She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I cannot stay, but you must. Something foul is at work here. Do not trust the wizards. Keep our mother safe and give them no reason to doubt you. We will see things set right, somehow.”
He nodded bravely. “I’ll do all that I can.”
She hugged him close, then followed Tormjere towards the stables.
“We need to get away from this city,” she said.
“Agreed, but to where?” He cast a wary eye on the soldiers at the gatehouse. “This war may officially be over, but the safety we sought lies further out of reach. Let us get beyond the wall before deciding.”
Argus jumped to his feet when he saw them rushing towards him. “What is it?”
“We’re leaving,” Tormjere said. “Now. But don’t make a ruckus about it.”
Argus fell into step with them. “Half the horses are unsaddled, but the men are all here.”
“We can’t wait,” Tormjere said. “When they’re assembled, head west along the river. Take care not to be followed.”
“Where will we meet?”
“Where you find us.”
Shalindra mounted the first horse with a saddle, and Tormjere climbed on the next.
They left the stables at a steady trot, ready to bolt through the outer gate as the first hint of trouble. The soldiers paid them little mind, however.
She remembered the road out of the city and they kept the horses at a trot, though not fast enough to appear unusually hurried. The crowded city moved about as it always did, and they eventually passed through the curtain wall without incident.
Once beyond the city’s edge, they turned west, keeping their purposeful but unassuming pace along the road that followed the river. Shalindra rode in silence, her thoughts a tangle of emotion that refused any attempt to make sense of what had happened. Farmland eventually turned to forest, but they did not stop until the city was hours behind them.
“This should be a good place,” Tormjere said, breaking the silence. “We’ll be able to see the road but remain hidden.”
“And now we wait,” she said, her voice bitter. “Shall we eat and enjoy the view?”
Tormjere winced. “You real
ize Argus had all the food.”
Shalindra laughed. At this point, it was all she could do.
* * *
Argus and the rest of the troop caught up to them at dusk and, much to the relief of her empty stomach, he had brought plenty to eat.
“Were you followed?” Tormjere asked.
“Probably,” Argus answered. “It’s impossible to move so many men around without attracting attention.”
“I am relieved that you were allowed to quit the keep,” Shalindra said.
“Almost wasn’t. But there were only twenty of them and a lot more of us, so they’d the sense to stand aside. I don’t know what you did, my lady, but it set them off right well.”
“I do not know what I did, either.”
“The immediate question,” Tormjere said, “is what will we do now?”
“I’ll get the men settled,” Argus said. “Then we’ll sort it out.”
A fire was lit and food prepared, though neither provided the cheer such a pleasant evening deserved. The soldiers not on watch settled as they could, giving her and Argus the space that her station commanded. Except that she had neither title nor station anymore.
Shalindra stared at the fire in silence as she ate, then stood and began to pace. She’d put off thinking about what had happened for as long as possible, but now there was no avoiding it.
“What has happened to us? This is like some terrible tale of eastern politics, with families being killed for no reason. Now I am unable to trust my own father. How could he do that to me?”
Argus excused himself, mumbling something about checking on the horses.
Tormjere watched her silently. She was so worked up that her mind had turned cloudy to him, but it hardly mattered. Anyone could read her mood now by simply looking at her face.
“My own father!” She almost felt as if she would be sick. “He has always treated me like any other jewel in his crown, to display when it best suited his mood. Not once has he ever taken me seriously. I was actually doing something. Something that made a difference in people’s lives. I…”