‘In my bedroom!’ she gasped desperately. ‘Men! They tried to kill me.’
The Intermediary strode past her into the hall, bellowing, ‘Guards!’ He repeated the call. Doors along the corridor swung open and soldiers appeared, pulling on jerkins and buckling swords. ‘Follow me at once!’ he ordered, and he ran up the stairs with thirty soldiers in train, leaving Meg in the long, cold hall, dabbing at her bruised and bloodied cheek and lips.
‘Her Majesty is most alarmed that you were attacked within the palace,’ the Intermediary explained, as he ushered Meg along the main hall towards the Queen’s Counsel Chamber. ‘The two men were specially trained for their role to protect guests to the palace, so I am personally very perplexed and embarrassed by what has happened.’
She walked beside the tall, neatly groomed man, listening as he apologised, but she was taking in the main hall’s lavish furnishings and the multitude of doors leading from it. The aubergine-coloured walls were adorned with tapestries and myriad paintings of all styles—some bright and airy, others sombre and tragic—representing historical events, portraits and romanticised moments. She stopped at one enormous tapestry that spanned the full wall between two doors. Frayed, worn, the colours severely faded, ancient in every way, its images still revealed a strange battle. At its centre was an armoured warrior sweeping a flaming sword through the neck of a lizard-like creature she assumed represented a dragon. More dragons circled in the background above a scene of carnage. ‘Is something wrong, my lady?’ the Intermediary asked.
She blinked, and shook her head. ‘No. Just a curious picture.’
‘Ah, yes. This particular tapestry dates back more than a thousand years, according to the scholars, perhaps even longer. Its origins are unknown, even to how it came to be among the old kings’ collections. People’s imaginations were vivid in antiquity. They portrayed dragons as real creatures, although our scholars now know that they were merely pictorial metaphors for the political, social and religious struggles the old kings and their societies faced. Quaint concept, really.’
Meg nodded, only partly comprehending the Intermediary’s babble. She was adrift in her memory of the dream in which a young warrior, like the one in the tapestry, fought a dragon from his castle battlements. How had she dreamed what she had never before seen?
‘My lady?’ The Intermediary took her arm. ‘Her Majesty is waiting.’
She let her thoughts go and moved on. Meeting the Queen was feeling bizarre. The clothes Spring organised for her to wear were even more bizarre. She was made to wear—‘made’ because she was offered no alternative—a full-length, dark green silk dress that billowed at her waist and was cut low at the breast—lower than Meg would have liked. ‘I don’t normally wear dresses,’ she told Spring, when the girl first showed her what had been chosen.
Spring’s face registered astonishment. ‘This colour will look stunning against your red hair, my lady. It’s so flattering a style too.’ Meg acquiesced, letting Spring dress her, feeling naked around her legs without the security of trousers. Whisper sat on the bed, watching the act of dressing with rat curiosity, much to Spring’s chagrin, which was exacerbated when Meg asked Spring to look after Whisper while she had the audience with the Queen. ‘As my lady wishes,’ Spring obediently replied, but her tone conveyed her disgust for the task.
‘She saved my life last night,’ Meg told her.
‘There!’ Spring declared, when the dressing was complete. ‘My lady, you are beautiful!’ She circled Meg and showed her what she looked like in a full-length mirror, another device that fascinated Meg. No one used mirrors in Summerbrook. ‘You should grow your hair longer, my lady,’ Spring suggested. Meg didn’t have the heart to tell her that her hair had been much longer, or that it had also been severely shorter. The image in the mirror surprised her. Like everyone else, she saw for the first time a beautiful young woman—slender, fine-featured. Only the green dress looked wrong. And there was the nagging thought that her slender shape was fast to become rounded with a swollen belly.
The main hall ended at a formidable double door constructed from dark wood banded with iron. Above the doors hung a black pennant with the Queen’s insignia. Four fully armoured soldiers with body-length shields, longswords and crossbows stood on guard: their armour and weaponry black and the shields emblazoned with the royal golden serpent. ‘The Queen’s Elite Guards,’ the Intermediary announced. He bowed to the Guards who also bowed, and two promptly swung the great doors open. A trumpet sounded a short note as they entered.
Built to impress ambassadors and visiting kings, Meg gasped as she entered the Queen’s Counsel Chamber. From the outside she’d seen that the palace had four storeys, but she hadn’t expected to enter a room where the ceiling extended three full storeys as this one did. The ceiling was a huge dome of coloured glass depicting a serene face shrouded by rays of golden light. ‘Jarudha,’ the Intermediary whispered. ‘He watches over everything, and His light illuminates the path to reason.’ At each level, a balcony ran around the walls and Guards were stationed at strategic points. ‘Those are the flags of each of Her Majesty’s Tithe Lords,’ the Intermediary explained, pointing to the long banners that hung from the top balcony, eight in total. With heraldic symbols, and against the background structure of white marble, the banners were dramatic splashes of colour. Though square in overall design, the chamber was divided octagonally. Three walls and each corner contained an alcove, and each alcove housed eight black upholstered chairs set in two rows of four. The end wall was curved into a larger alcove with five marble steps leading to a single stately golden throne, also padded in black with gold serpents embedded in the seat and back. The central floor had nine rows of chairs facing the throne alcove, each row curved to ensure everyone could see the throne clearly, and an aisle divided the centre with a strip of black and gold carpet stretching from the entry to the base of the five marble steps.
On the throne was a woman dressed in a sleeveless black gown, with her blonde hair piled high on her head. To each side stood two Queen’s Elite Guards. One step down from the throne there were two Seers in sky blue robes, and a variety of men and women, dressed in Royal black, filled the front row of chairs. ‘Her Majesty has honoured you with a private audience,’ the Intermediary informed Meg as he led her along the carpet towards the throne. The audience stood and applauded as she entered the space between the front row and the marble steps, and the Queen rose, also clapping. ‘Your most Royal Majesty!’ the Intermediary announced, stopping Meg politely with his outstretched arm. ‘It is my personal honour to present Lady Meg Farmer of Summerbrook, whose exploits have contributed to the safety of your sovereign rule and humbled the best of our soldiers.’ He bowed low, straightened, and took a step to one side.
‘So you are the girl who slew Marchlord Treasure Overbrook?’ the Queen asked. Her neck and fingers sparkled with gems and jewellery, and across her forehead was a thick, wide gold band studded with black gems.
‘I didn’t actually kill him,’ Meg replied cautiously, uncertain of what she should say or how she should say it.
Queen Sunset smiled, and descended the steps. ‘Well it seems stories have a habit of growing in stature in the telling.’ She stopped on the lowest step. ‘Perhaps you should tell me what really happened.’
The Queen was a similar height to her mother, and she wondered if she remained on the last step to avoid appearing significantly shorter than her tall guest. She assembled her thoughts quickly, choosing which details of her part in the Battle of The Whispering Forest she should include and which to avoid. ‘I was just lucky,’ she replied. ‘Treasure—the blue knight—left a chance for me to strike with my dagger. I don’t know how or why it went through his armour. It just did. That’s all I remember.’
‘A modest warrior,’ the Queen said, nodding. ‘Your story was brought to me by two people when I wanted to know the name of the unknown soldier who had turned the tide of war so dramatically. They told me what they’d seen
and who you were, so I thought it would be appropriate for a hero to be rewarded. But I’ve since learned something else about you, Meg Farmer. It seems you are much, much more than you pretend.’
Meg shifted uncomfortably. ‘I don’t understand.’ The Queen motioned to a Seer with her left hand, an older man with white hair and a long beard, and he descended to stand beside Meg. He closed his eyes and concentrated, and when he opened them he said, ‘You have Jarudha’s Blessing.’
The Queen smiled again, and continued. ‘You know Leader Cutter. You met Marchlord Strong after the battle. They both confirmed who you were and what you did at the Battle of The Whispering Forest. This is why I sent for you. But last night we learned of stranger events. You healed Leader Westridge when he was dying. And now someone is determined to have you killed.’ She shifted her attention briefly to the Intermediary, and Meg saw a flicker of anger in the woman’s blue eyes, before she looked again at Meg. ‘I sincerely apologise for what happened last night. My palace should be the safest place for anyone to rest, but it seems security needs a serious overhaul.’ She glanced at the Intermediary again, but Meg noticed that he seemed unruffled by the Queen’s displeasure. ‘For your safety in the immediate future, I have assigned five of my personal Elite Guards to accompany you and to protect your chamber.’ She turned and climbed the steps to her throne and then faced the small audience. ‘There will be a public procession to celebrate our new hero in three days, on Praise Day. On that day, I will award Lady Meg an honorary title of Marchlord, and she will be given a perpetual tithe from Tithe Lord Whitetree’s region, encompassing her home village and surrounding lands. In the meantime, Lady Meg will reside in the palace as my guest, and she will spend her time with Seer Diamond as her guide.’ The Queen sat, and the small assembly of people applauded again.
The Seer touched Meg’s arm, and said, ‘If you would accompany me, my lady?’ and he led her from the Queen’s Counsel Chamber.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
‘This,’ Seer Diamond announced, ‘is the Outer Sanctum of Jarudha’s House.’ Meg stood inside a space that was part of a wider architectural circle, in a building separate from the palace. The building stone was yellow and symmetrically cut, and dark overhead wooden beams supported the red-tiled roof. Shafts of light angled in through coloured stainedglass inserts implanted every twenty paces, splashing patches of red and green and violet across the white marble floor tiles. ‘Beyond the iron door is the Inner Sanctum, where only true Seers can go. Not even the Queen can enter. It is consecrated and most holy ground.’ Seer Diamond smiled enigmatically and lifted his arm to usher Meg forward. ‘Let me take you to a chamber where we can talk privately.’
Her head was spinning with Queen Sunset’s words as she followed Seer Diamond along the steadily curving broad hall. How could she be a Marchlord when she wasn’t even a soldier? How long before she could go home? What did having a tithe mean? What would happen now that they knew that she had the Blessing? When would her period come? What would she do if it didn’t come? Seer Diamond stopped outside a large door and lifted the handle, motioning for Meg to enter.
Within, she found three Seers gathered at a table. ‘Please take a seat,’ a Seer invited, indicating a tall chair at the end of the table. The gathering waited for Meg and Seer Diamond to be seated before the man who’d spoken said, ‘Jarudha’s blessing upon you. I am Seer Light. My colleagues are Seer Onyx and Seer Vale. You, of course, have already met Seer Diamond.’ Meg nodded politely, but she felt odd to be at a table with four men who looked alike with their white hair, long beards and blue robes. ‘Is it true that you come from a little village?’ Seer Light asked.
Meg nodded. ‘It’s called Summerbrook.’
‘Quaint name,’ Light remarked.
‘And you’ve always lived there?’ Onyx asked.
‘Yes,’ she replied. Light snorted. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, looking at Light.
‘The situation,’ Light replied.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said.
‘I think my colleague is bemused by the fact that you’re a rustic young woman who has appeared out of nowhere as a hero in the Queen’s war,’ Diamond explained. ‘It’s—just—’
‘Priceless,’ Light interjected, shaking his head.
‘Why?’ she asked.
‘Of course, we’re very curious to hear that you apparently have Jarudha’s Blessing,’ Light said, ignoring her question.
She waited for him to say more, but all four men were staring at her, waiting for an answer. ‘I—I don’t really know,’ she said nervously. ‘Some say it is the Blessing.’
‘Could you describe what you do?’ Seer Onyx asked.
‘With what?’
‘Your healing power, girl,’ Light muttered disdainfully. ‘I hear you can heal with a touch.’
‘Can you?’ Diamond asked.
Meg nodded.
‘Do you mind showing us?’ Onyx asked.
She shrugged. ‘If you wish.’
‘Bring in the subject!’ Light yelled.
A door Meg hadn’t noticed in the wall behind her opened. Two soldiers hauled in a naked man and dropped him on the floor beside Meg’s chair. He had been savagely beaten, his face was bloodied and huge bruises covered much of his emaciated body. ‘What happened to him?’ she asked.
‘None of your concern,’ said the surly Light. ‘It is Jarudha’s business.’
‘Well?’ asked Diamond. ‘Can you heal him?’
She knelt beside the battered body. Beneath the dried blood and swelling she saw a young man’s face. His breathing was shallow, and he was close to death. She stroked his matted brown hair, and said, ‘I need hot water and cloths to bathe his injuries.’
‘If you truly have the Blessing, those things won’t be necessary to heal him,’ said Light.
Meg looked up at the four watchful faces, appealing for sympathy, but all she saw were men waiting for their question to be answered. She sighed as she placed her hands over the young man’s scalp, closed her eyes, and whispered, ‘Heal. Heal yourself.’ Her spine tingled, as it had when she’d healed Wombat and Westridge, and warmth spread from her hands into the young man. She remained bent over him for a long time, imagining his body repairing under her touch, and when she finally exhaled and straightened she was exhausted.
‘Is that it?’ Onyx asked, staring. Nothing about the unconscious victim’s appearance had changed.
‘For now,’ Meg answered wearily. ‘His wounds should have been cleaned to prevent infection. He has to sleep. Tomorrow morning he will feel better.’
‘He doesn’t look any different,’ said Light irritably.
‘We’ll see,’ said Diamond.
‘I need to rest,’ said Meg.
‘Send her back to her chamber,’ said Light to Diamond. ‘An acolyte can take her. We need to talk.’
Diamond guided Meg from the room into the curved hallway where he beckoned to a young man wearing a yellow robe. ‘Take Lady Meg to the palace,’ he ordered, and to Meg he said, ‘We’ll talk again,’ before he hurriedly retreated to rejoin his colleagues.
Meg cupped the rat in her hands against the background of the vast palace courtyard and the distant city as she sat at the large chamber window. She stared into the rat’s glittering eyes, sceptically studying the little animal. ‘You rescued me last night, didn’t you?’ she asked, expecting the rat to answer. ‘Was it you who told me to run?’ Whisper sat up on her haunches and started methodically cleaning her whiskers. ‘You aren’t all that you pretend,’ Meg said, mimicking a phrase she’d heard used about herself. ‘No one is in this place.’ She shut her eyes and tried to send thoughts to the rat. After a frustrating moment of nothing, she opened her eyes and sighed. ‘Am I going crazy?’ She nervously turned, expecting someone to answer her question, but the chamber was empty. Whisper jumped down from her hands and scampered towards the black woollen rug, where she promptly curled up to sleep. ‘I appreciate the company,’ Meg said sullenly.
She crossed to the table, where she poured a measure of water from a crystal jug and drank, and sighed with boredom. After the audience with the Queen, and the disturbing meeting with the Seers, she’d returned to the chamber to sleep. When she’d woken, there was a meal laid on the table so she ate a portion of what tasted like roasted duck and vegetables. She’d hoped Spring would be in the chamber, but the young woman wasn’t, so she talked to Whisper, mulling over the strange events that had consumed her life in the past cycles and brought her to this alien place so far from her home. Now, even the rat was uninterested. Her shoulders sagged as she went to the bookcase and rifled through the collection. Eventually she selected a green leather-bound book with the title Lessons of a Monarch and flicked through it. A knocking broke her reverie. ‘Who is it?’ she asked warily.
‘Follower Servant,’ came the answer in a softly spoken familiar voice.
‘What do you want?’
A curt cough was followed by, ‘I was wondering if my lady would be interested in walking the palace grounds.’ Meg opened the door to find the Intermediary standing between five Elite Guards. ‘These are the men Her Majesty has assigned to your protection, my lady,’ Follower announced. ‘If you are interested in taking a walk with me, two will accompany us. The others will guard your chamber.’
‘Will they go in?’
‘Only if they hear something unusual, my lady.’
Meg turned to the Guards. ‘Inside my chamber is a pet rat. She’s black and her name is Whisper. She’s meant to be there. All right?’
The Guards exchanged glances. ‘As your ladyship orders,’ one man replied.
The Amber Legacy Page 27