The Amber Legacy

by Tony Shillitoe

  ‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

  ‘Straightaim, your ladyship.’

  ‘Thank you, Straightaim. Whisper is in your care.’ She raised an arm towards Follower, who looked momentarily surprised, before he gave an approving nod and graciously took her proffered arm.

  She gazed across the grey-blue watery expanse in wonder, breathing in the invigoratingly salty ocean smell. Seagulls wheeled around the walls and cliffs below the parapet where she stood with Follower, and waves boomed against the rocks sending spray cascading high into the air. Nothing she had ever seen matched the awesome majesty of the ocean vista from the palace walls. ‘I am to assume you’ve never seen the ocean?’ Follower asked.

  ‘Never. Does it go on forever?’

  ‘No,’ he replied. ‘Once upon a time the ancients thought that if you went too far to the west in a boat you would fall off the edge of the world. We can’t see them, but out there are other lands, some even like our own. Explorers have returned with tales of civilisations wanting to trade, and rich lands waiting to be settled. Unfortunately, to journey to those places takes many cycles on even our best ships, and it’s dangerous with storms and other unknown perils. More people have perished at sea than have come back from those voyages.’

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘she can be very beautiful. Wait until you see the ocean on a calm, sunny morning, or when the sun sets. Or on a moonlit night when the wind is calm and the air is warm. Poets and balladeers write lyrics about that beauty. “Full sweet is her breath as she moans at the moon, as she lures swooning sailors to their watery doom.” The Queen’s Bard penned that last year. But the ocean is also a fierce and ruthless mistress. When you see her from the safety of the cliff tops in the middle of a wild storm, you’ll see an animal of such brutality unleashed that you will wonder how the land can contain her along its borders. At her whim, the ocean can carry a ship on her breast like a mother bearing her child, and viciously and remorselessly tear that same ship asunder on her hidden rocks and reefs.’

  Meg watched a small sailing ship ply the watery entrance to the harbour. Three larger vessels rocked at their deep-water anchorage. She’d only seen small boats in the river at Summerbrook, but never been in one, and her only water-borne experience was the ferry with Wombat. ‘It must be amazing to float on the ocean.’

  ‘Perhaps you’ll get the chance one day, my lady,’ Follower suggested. ‘We’d best continue our walk. It will soon be time for dinner.’

  Meg enjoyed Follower’s tour. The intricate stone and wood architecture and the multitude of carvings of the palace’s main building fascinated her. Many smaller buildings—military and servants’ quarters, storage areas and retreats—reflected a common theme of white stone and dark wood with intricate carvings and statuettes. There were manicured gardens, and open spaces of grass, fountains and grottoes, vines and rotundas scattered through the grounds, and she felt that a person could wander for days. The palace seemed bigger than the entire Summerbrook village. Only the Temple of Jarudha, to where Diamond had taken her after her audience with the Queen, was deliberately set apart from the palace with its yellow stone and circular shape.

  Outside the temple, young men in yellow robes sat in a circle, listening to a blue-robed Seer. ‘You believe in Jarudha, of course, my lady?’ Follower asked as they stopped to watch the group.

  That was a question she really hadn’t considered. She knew her mother did. Did Emma? Did her father, before he was killed in the war? ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, and noticed that Follower frowned. ‘Is that a problem?’

  He adopted a congenial smile to answer her. ‘It will be if you are truly a receiver of Jarudha’s Blessing.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it is Jarudha’s Blessing,’ he said abruptly. ‘Jarudha wouldn’t bestow it upon a heretic. It wouldn’t make sense.’

  ‘Oh,’ she murmured, sensing that his statement contained an important warning. To change the conversation’s direction, she asked, ‘What is the Seer talking about?’

  Follower shook his head. ‘That is for the acolytes, not for us.’ He took her arm and drew her away from the circle. ‘Come. I’ll show you the library and the museum.’

  Back in her chamber, the afternoon waning as dark clouds rolled across the ocean, Meg cuddled Whisper and gazed out the big window at the main courtyard. Follower told her that the palace had approximately two hundred and thirty rooms, but the number wasn’t exact because no one had ever been allowed in secret chambers known only to the Royals. The library dwarfed the bookcase in her chamber and contained more books than she imagined could exist. The museum, which stretched easily twice the length of the palace’s main entry hall, held artefacts and paintings and maps collected from regions and civilisations farflung across the world—east, south, north, west. She’d wandered, looking at preserved and stuffed animals—horrified to discover a dingo in the collection—fascinated by the stripes of a tiger and the sheer size of an elephant. There were relics of past wars and examples of unusual items brought back by explorers who’d ventured overseas. Full armoured suits representing different eras and different cultures, looking like soldiers waiting for someone to breathe life back into them, were displayed. She’d never thought much about the past, or imagined that people and civilisations had not only existed before her time, but had risen, believed that they were the sole inheritors of the world, and then vanished into dust. After the museum, she felt as if her perspective on the world had altered irrevocably.

  Her chamber door opened and Spring entered with a bundle in her arms. ‘The clothes you requested, my lady,’ she announced.

  ‘Thank you, Spring. Put them on the bed so I can get changed.’ She ignored the girl’s use of the title that irritated her. ‘Do you know what will happen regarding my dinner?’

  Spring headed for the bed, replying, ‘I haven’t been given orders yet, my—Meg.’ She laid out the green tunic and bone trousers, and a black vest embroidered with the royal gold serpent emblem.

  ‘Where did you get them from?’

  ‘I had to ask Her Majesty’s wardrobe adviser. She gave them to me. She said to tell you that if anything needs adjusting, you know, like taking in or up, to send them back and she’ll see to it.’

  Meg held the trousers against her leg and smiled. ‘I think you have a good eye, Spring.’

  ‘Thank you, my—Meg,’ Spring replied, and bowed.

  The door opened again, and Queen Sunset entered with two attendants. The Queen, in her black gown, glanced at Whisper before crossing to Meg. ‘Lady Meg, please excuse my intrusion. Sadly, I’m always in a hurry during the day, and one of the good aspects of being Queen is being able to come and go wherever I please without having to ask.’ Her eyes shifted to the clothes on the bed, and she smiled. ‘Getting changed?’

  ‘Yes,’ Meg answered, wondering if she was meant to add ‘Your Majesty’ to whatever she said.

  ‘Well, when you’re changed, I’d like you to come to my chamber for dinner. I’ll send Ample to fetch you. You can wear your preferred clothes, although I have to say you looked stunningly beautiful in the green dress this morning. I was quite jealous when I first met you. You’re already the talk of the palace.’ Meg blushed. ‘Good. At least I can embarrass you. I’ll see you at dinner.’ Queen Sunset headed for the door, but stopped when she reached it and turned to Meg. ‘Bring the rat. What’s his name?’

  ‘Her name is Whisper.’

  ‘Bring Whisper then,’ said the Queen.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Candles flickered along the hall. Before the massive double door at the end, a pair of Elite Guards waited, the candlelight shining on their ebony armour. ‘I will leave you here, Lady Meg,’ said Ample, the portly matron who led Meg to the next level and the Queen’s chamber. ‘The Guards will admit you.’ She bowed and scuttled away.

  ‘Guess this is it,’ Meg said to the rat on her shoulder, and she approached the Gu
ards. They opened the doors.

  Within, a brown-haired boy, neatly dressed in an outfit similar to her own, greeted her by bowing, and saying, ‘Welcome, Lady Meg. My name is Smallone. I am Her Majesty’s pageboy. Her Majesty asked that you join her on the balcony first,’ and the boy led the way across a dimly lit chamber. A large rectangular wooden table at the centre was adorned with a lit candelabra and bright yellow flowers in a red vase. Two plush high-backed chairs were arranged at the table, but the table could seat up to twelve people comfortably. Paintings and tapestries of pastoral scenes covered the walls. French doors opened onto the balcony where Queen Sunset was leaning against the balustrade, staring into the night. She held a pottery bottle in one hand and a glass in the other. The tang of salty air filled Meg’s nostrils. ‘Your Majesty?’ Smallone called gently.

  The Queen turned, her blonde hair across her shoulders. She wore a silver nightdress under a red dressing-gown. ‘Thank you, Smallone. That will be all tonight. Tell the chef he can serve at moonrise.’ Smallone bowed and withdrew. The Queen looked Meg up and down and said, ‘Do you always dress like a man?’

  ‘I dress practically. On our farm, a dress in the fields and around the animals is hardly sensible.’

  The Queen smiled. ‘I’m direct, as you will quickly learn. The more I like you, the more direct I am. I don’t have time for niceties, especially in private. Sit down.’ Meg obediently sat, but the Queen remained standing, the sea breeze flaring her blonde hair. ‘You’re probably wondering why I would invite a complete stranger to my chamber. Well, to me, you’re not exactly a complete stranger. My people researched everything about you before you were brought here. It may be that I know more about you than you know about yourself. You, on the other hand, probably know nothing about me. So, I understand if you’re nervous about being here, since I’m the stranger, not you.’ The Queen poured a measure from the bottle into her glass and took a swig. She waved the bottle in front of Meg. ‘Want some?’

  ‘What is it?’ Meg asked.

  The Queen chuckled as if Meg had just made a joke. ‘Wine with euphoria. It’s good for relaxing.’

  ‘The drug? Isn’t it bad?’

  Queen Sunset snorted and poured a fresh glass. ‘Here. I think you need to learn about city life quickly, girl.’ She held the glass towards Meg.

  Meg took the glass and sipped. The wine was sour, like the worst that Fletcher Archer kept for cheap travellers at his inn, but in it was a taste that reminded her of honey. She savoured it on her tongue.

  ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘It’s like mead.’

  ‘Oh, it’s better than mead. It’s better than any alcohol. Drink the rest.’ Meg sculled the contents and returned it. ‘There,’ the Queen said. ‘That should start our evening together very smoothly.’ She stared at Whisper. ‘Does she bite?’

  ‘No.’

  The Queen extended a tentative finger and Whisper sat up on Meg’s shoulder to sniff inquisitively. ‘I’ll ask you many questions tonight, but tell me now—why do you carry a rat everywhere?’

  ‘Not everywhere,’ Meg corrected. She explained old Samuel’s legacy, without mentioning the amber crystal, finishing with, ‘And she saved my life last night, as well.’ She lowered the restless rat to the floor.

  ‘A remarkable creature,’ the Queen said, watching the rat satisfying her curiosity as she explored the new environment. ‘I also hear you have a pet dingo.’

  ‘Sunfire. I haven’t seen him since arriving last evening.’

  ‘He’s in capable hands,’ the Queen reassured her. ‘Before you meet with Seer Diamond tomorrow morning, I’ll see to it that Leader Cutter brings him to you.’

  ‘Why am I meeting with Seer Diamond?’

  ‘Come to the table and I’ll explain.’ She led Meg from the balcony, pausing to close the double doors, before crossing to the table. She waited for Meg to sit. A grin came to her face. ‘You know nothing of protocol, do you?’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I rather like your freshness.’

  Meg screwed up her face. ‘Would you explain what you mean?’

  The Queen sighed. ‘Around me there are a thousand rules for the way other people should behave. For example, no one dares sit before the Queen sits.’

  ‘Oh. I’m sorry,’ said Meg, and she started to rise.

  ‘Oh, for Jarudha’s sake, sit down!’ the Queen ordered, and laughed. ‘Seriously, all I’m doing is explaining this to you. Perhaps I should teach you some rules in case you offend the others with your lack of decorum.’

  Meg relaxed. ‘What rules?’

  ‘It’s customary to bow whenever I enter or leave or address you. You wait for me to speak to you before you speak to me. You always address me as “Your Majesty”. You don’t look me in the eye, unless I insist on it.’ She paused, seeing the serious concentration on Meg’s face. ‘Look, Meg, there are more rules than I can even bother to explain. I don’t want you to learn them, at least not yet. Just know that’s what others are doing. If you’re not sure, take your cue from those around you. And when it’s just you and me, like this evening, none of those rules apply.’

  ‘Like I’m doing with Spring.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Spring, the girl in my bedroom—chamber, isn’t it?—she keeps on trying to call me “Lady Meg” and all I want is “Meg”. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?’

  ‘Almost. Although, perhaps it would be better if you let Spring call you “Lady Meg”. People like her don’t quite understand what you’re doing. It will only confuse her.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ said the Queen. ‘I’ll order the food to be brought in.’ She picked up a small gold hammer and struck a golden bowl on the table. The mellow ring it produced surprised Meg. ‘More euphoria?’ the Queen asked, already beginning to pour a measure into a glass beside Meg’s arm. They quietly sipped the drink, while four servants carried in trays and crockery and cutlery and set the meal. As the last servant withdrew, the Queen said, ‘Normally I would have one of them serve me, but tonight I thought it would be more interesting if we serve ourselves. Please—begin.’ There was more food on the table than Meg had ever seen in a single setting, even in Archer’s Inn. Most of the dishes were roasted vegetables, but there were two plates of steaming carved meat, and three tiny jugs of different sauces. She was hungry, so she filled her plate.

  As they ate, the Queen asked questions about Summerbrook and Meg’s family. Meg gave details between mouthfuls. She was aware of an increasing light-headedness, like she’d drunk too much alcohol, a sensation she’d only experienced once after she drank a half bottle of mead behind Fletcher Archer’s Inn. What she especially noticed was the heightening of her senses, as if she could hear and see more acutely. She could feel Whisper’s hunger as well, as if the rat was telling her how she felt, so she dropped morsels of food at her feet. ‘Tell me about your Blessing,’ the Queen instructed.

  Meg explained how she had healed Wombat and Leader Westridge. ‘I didn’t understand what was happening,’ she said. ‘I still don’t.’

  ‘Jarudha’s Blessing is part of the mystery of faith,’ Queen Sunset said, as she lifted her glass to wash down her food. ‘At least, that’s what Seer Diamond will tell you.’

  ‘So why am I seeing the Seer again?’

  The Queen put down her glass. ‘You’ve created a difficulty for the Seers,’ she said. ‘You see, you’re not what you’re supposed to be.’

  ‘What am I supposed to be?’

  The Queen snorted. ‘A man.’ Her smile faded and she leaned forward, as if she was afraid that someone would overhear her. ‘When I learned that the soldier who’d slain Marchlord Overbrook was a woman, at first I couldn’t believe it. I thought Marchlord Strong was playing some cruel, twisted jest. But when Leader Cutter corroborated his story, I felt as if Jarudha had finally brought me a spark of hope in a world darkened by the constant sh
adow of men.’ Her face beamed with excitement. ‘Do you know what it’s like being Queen? Being the solitary woman hounded daily by a pack of baying men?’ She paused, studying Meg with her blue eyes. ‘You truly are a stunningly beautiful girl!’ Meg blushed and turned her face away, astonished by the Queen’s frank compliment, but she was more startled when the Queen’s hand cupped her jaw and turned her head back to face her. ‘I’ve been praying to Jarudha that someone like you existed,’ the Queen confessed.

  ‘Why?’ Meg asked.

  The Queen laughed and released Meg. She leaned back in her chair and quite loudly said, ‘Because at last I’ve found someone who can destroy the monopoly these men have on the Seers!’ She rose and stood behind Meg’s chair. ‘Why do you wear your hair so short?’

  ‘It’s growing back. I cut it to disguise myself as a man.’

  The Queen laughed as she ran her fingers through Meg’s locks. ‘See? Women can’t even be in the army. In my army. The men won’t allow it. I’m the Queen, the highest authority in the entire kingdom, and my army doesn’t allow women to fight beside the men.’

  Meg enjoyed the Queen massaging her scalp, although she was intimidated by the intimate gesture. ‘Why don’t you just order the men to let the women in the army?’

  The Queen squatted beside Meg’s chair, her hands resting on Meg’s leg, and said, ‘Oh, that it could be so easy, I’d do it. But the Tithe Lords and the Marchlords and the Warmasters and all the soldiers would kick up such a fuss, and suddenly I wouldn’t have an army. But you—you make something far more dangerous possible. You can be a Seer.’ She reached under the chair and patted Whisper who was asleep, before she returned to her chair. ‘Tomorrow, Seer Diamond and his colleagues will put you through the test reserved for Potentials. When you pass it, they will have to admit you as an acolyte and train you.’

  ‘That’s if I pass,’ Meg said quietly.

  Queen Sunset leaned across the table again. ‘There’s no “if”, Meg. Tomorrow you will become the first woman ever admitted to the temple to train to become a Seer. I’ve prayed for you to come, for all of the twenty-seven years that I’ve been Queen, and in that time there’s been no one. But now there is you. Now, there is you.’ She poured another glass of euphoria and refilled Meg’s glass. ‘To us, Lady Meg Farmer. To the new Marchlord of the Queen’s army, and to the new Seer in waiting.’