The War Queen

by Jane Merkley

  The domed shaped building was easy to find. She was careful in her note back to Jasper.

  There were no caravans coming from Yott to Athenya for three days, but there was a group of travelers heading toward Athenya. I imaging we’ll shave a few off as we go since not all of them are going all the way. I’m in Gaynord now. I’ll spend the night and then we will travel again in the morning. I’ll send another bird on my way out.

  -Lotus

  She dated it and wrote the address to her house on the envelope. Paying the man, she galloped back to The Singing Mare. She tied her horse next to Torren’s chestnut and went inside.

  Welcomed company greeted her and fire-blazed food permeated the stuffy room. A drummer and lutenist were playing a casual version of “Gently, Giny” on a raised stage in the far corner of the room. A cold brick fire place took up space in the very center of the room, the chimney rising up like a pillar.

  Torren was already on a bar stool. He waved her over.

  “Two orders of your sweet pork sandwich,” he said to the waitress as she sat.

  The waitress set down two mugs of water and left.

  “I don’t want the sandwich.”

  “No. You need to try it. It’s too late now anyway,” he said as she started to protest. “Might as well give it a try.”

  Altarn balled her fingers in her lap. Just then, the musicians changed tunes and picked up the tempo.

  “Just in time. Come on!” Torren spun around on his stool and marched to the stage in the corner where others were gathering. He looked at her when she didn’t follow. She shook her head, suspicious of what he was so excited about.

  When his frantic beckoning did not summon her, he began to call her name, stomping his foot in a rhythm so soon those assembled on the floor joined in.

  “Kyree! Kyree! Kyree!”

  It was the fact that the whole room joined in for Torren’s ridiculousness. She gave in to spare herself anymore embarrassment. Everyone cheered as she joined them.

  “What is this?”

  “A competition dance.” She couldn’t believe she saw excited zeal behind his blue eyes. “I’ve never had a partner before so this is going to be great!”

  Altarn was going to argue that she never agreed to be his dance partner, but seeing how well that went over when she argued that he had picked her dinner, she swallowed her frustration. The room just might start chanting her name again. She grimaced in dismay when she spotted their waitress and cook in the group too.

  “What are we to do?” she ask, defeated.

  “The bards will give you a character and you have to act to the tune they choose for you. The catch is, you have act as foolish as possible.”

  Altarn snorted. “You picked the wrong partner. I don’t act foolish, especially not for someone else’s enjoyment.”

  “You will when the winners get their dinner for free.”

  “I’ll pay for my dinner.”

  “Servants pay cannot be that grand. And who in their right mind would turn down free food?”

  I would, Altarn said to herself, but seeing as their waitress and cook had partnered up, she was forced to wait anyway. She hoped the cook would dance first. He didn’t. A toothless man and an old balding woman volunteered.

  The lutenist stood. “You will act out a rejected love proposal by the woman.”

  The room chuckled as the two took their positions. The woman kneeled before the man who remained standing with his back to her and they held this pose very still until the bards decided on their tune.

  “Please just let me pay for my food. I’ll pay for yours too, if you are short on gold.”

  Torren laughed. “This is not about the expense. It’s simply about acting foolish. Living in the Lady’s house, you shouldn’t be robbed any amount of that.”

  Her stomach churned with a fierce desire to defend herself, but the results might be catastrophic for Torren. She would be rid of this man in a few days and she could be free of his disrespect then. She forced a smile as if it were all a joke to her, too.

  When they finished, Altarn looked to the waitress and cook to see if they would volunteer, so she missed Torren who raised his hand.

  “Let’s go!” He grabbed Altarn’s arm and force dragged her onto the stage.

  She ripped her arm out of his grip. The bards studied them for a moment; Torren’s anxious anticipation, Altarn’s mollified discontent, then whispered to each other. When they were done, the drum player stood.

  “The scene you will act out is you, sir, are going out to buy a dog but you cannot decide which. Madame, you will be the dog.”

  Altarn turned to stomp back to the safety of her bar stool but Torren caught her arm.

  “Proceed in 3…2…” The drummer slapped his hands about the top of the stretched skins in a steady and easy to follow rhythm.

  Altarn remained standing with tightly folded arms and a souring gaze on Torren. She did not become the state’s Lady to become this Ruid’s dog!

  Despite the irritation in his eyes, he still assumed his role regardless and acted out walking very cheerfully until he opened an invisible door and stepped through.

  Altarn’s whole body burned with embarrassment at having been forced into this and the booing from her spectators didn’t help.

  Torren acted dramatically, having obviously done some practicing on his own time – or participated in this every time he came this way – as he picked up three different sizes of invisible dogs. He came to Altarn and, staring at her feet, raised his head to the top of hers in a flabbergasted, wide mouth expression, measuring her height to his head with his hand. He then produced his belt and had it cinched around Altarn’s neck before she could argue, and then tugged on it and led her away.

  The performance was rewarded by many cheers and a flurry of slaps from Altarn. He let go of his belt and, too furious to even care that everyone was watching her tantrum, Altarn stomped out the door and slammed it shut behind her.

  She walked to her horse with every intent to leave. She dug her fingers under the belt and tore it loose, throwing it to the dirt. She passed the sleepy eyes of her animal on her way to the saddle. But putting her foot in the stirrup, she looked over the horse’s back and saw the glow of warm fire light through the dirty window and heard that the music was playing again.

  She couldn’t recall the last time she had gone out and done something outrageous simply for the joy in it. She’d been working for the past eleven years to earn the position she was in… Lady of a state that didn’t want her.

  She hung her head and removed her foot from the stirrup. Resting her head against her horse’s black shoulder, she worried if all the fun in her had been sucked out into the stones of her house built upon stress. When was the last time she actually enjoyed herself? She recalled once when she was fourteen and stole a bottle of Luthsinian wine from her father’s cupboard and then snuck off with her current love infatuation to drink themselves silly. Since then, it had been nothing but fighting to make something of herself in the world.

  The door creaked open and Torren’s shadow appeared. She heard a rattle of metal as he picked up his belt. He moved slowly around her horse so he could see her.

  “Kyree…” Torren’s gentle voice was at odds with what she was expecting from him. “I am very sorry. I suppose my idea of fun is different than yours. I shouldn’t have forced you into that. I will do better to respect your interests. Our meal is hot and ready. I will pay for yours as my apology.”

  In her blaze of temper, she had forgotten why she had agreed to let this man travel with her in the first place. She needed to befriend him to find out more about Byrone. And she really did need an extra body to travel with for safety. She might begrudge that thought, but she wasn’t stupid. “I’m sorry for acting that way.” As she spoke the words, she truly felt ashamed of herself. “It’s been so long since I’ve enjoyed anything that I forgot how it goes. And I’m so tired that my inhibition has left me.”

  �
�Then let this wonderful sweet pork sandwich teach you at least what joy tastes like.” Torren’s smile softened the hard planes of his face and almost hid the unsightliness of his crooked nose. It made him look goofy so she laughed.

  She followed him back inside and the cook had apparently returned to his station because hot food was steaming on the bar for them, even though the other patrons were still engrossed in the absurd entertainment.

  She bit into the soft bread and tangy sauce exploded down her chin. She realized she looked like an animal, but ignoring Torren who laughed at the mess she was making of her face, she continued. She didn’t realize how hungry she was. She finished the sandwich and ordered another one.

  “Told you,” he said to her licking the sticky sweet sauce off her fingers.

  But now that she was fed, her weariness caught up to her again; her short nap in Torren’s saddle had just staved off the inevitable.

  “I am very tired. I’m going to get a room,” she said. “Thank you for the sandwich.”

  “But you’ll be missing the best part of this trip!” Torren turned his head away from her, belched, and set down his mug of cider. “And might I recommend a shower for you?” He pinched his nose, waiving a hand between them.

  “If I stink, it’s because your own smell rubbed off on me.”

  She was half surprised that he chuckled. “See? You are getting the hang of it!” He stood from his stool, wiping sandwich off his face with the back of his hand.

  “Where are you taking me this time?” She pressed a palm into her forehead.

  “To the mineral pools.” He headed to the doors, looking back to see if she was following.

  Since his promise to respect her interests, she was sure she could get out of whatever it was he was taking her to. But a small voice in the back of her mind told her to be a little curious. She followed him outside, dragging her feet as he led her around the wraparound porch of the roadhouse. They came onto a narrow red brick path leading behind the building and up a small rise of earth where curls of steam mingled with the evening air.

  “These pools are heated naturally from underground,” Torren explained. “It makes them very hot. And soothing... something you could use right now.”

  A lot of forced smiles today. “You are probably right.”

  From the tavern, they followed a red brick foot path between the buildings and up a short incline to the crown of a hill above the town. As they approached the crest, Altarn scrunched her nose at a bad egg smell wafting down on them. Coming over the final rise, a small cluster of pools were steaming in the cooling air. The bad smell strengthened.

  Off to the side, four women were stirring something inside black cauldrons with fires burning beneath them. Strung between two trees was a line of rope draped with drying laundry.

  A small number of males and females were already lounged in the shallow depths of the pools. The red brick path widened at the top of the hill under a lattice gazebo, blankets hanging on opposite sides of the structure to create small areas of privacy.

  A man greeted them as they approached, waving with one arm. His right arm had been severed above the elbow at some point in his life and was now a stump poking out of his sleeveless shirt.

  Torren handed him some coins. The man reached into a shelf and handed a crisp blue cotton robe and a knitted bag first to Torren, and then another to Altarn.

  Torren pointed to the curtained off area on the right of the gazebo. “Change into the robe and put your clothes in the bag,” he explained, and left to the opposite side, apparently to do the same thing.

  Altarn closed the curtain behind her and undressed, wondering if she could get away with bringing her knife with her. It might poke through the robe at her leg but if she remained under the water she believed she could keep it hidden.

  She slid the robe around her shoulders and buttoned it down the front to her knees. Stuffing her clothes in the bag provided, she tossed the blanket back and found Torren waiting for her. The robe swished around his knees and long hairy legs led to equally hairy feet. He curled his big toes as he caught sight of her trying to kill a smile.

  “Your legs are hairy too, so I’m not sure why you think it’s funny,” he defended.

  “Because you are obviously embarrassed about it. I can see your ears turning red.”

  He looked darkly at her and dropped his bag of clothes on the table. “They will wash your clothes while you soak,” he said, jamming a finger over his shoulder to the women at the cauldrons before leaving her at the gazebo for the pools.

  Altarn counted this as a small victory. Finally, she had said something to make him get defensive!

  Altarn left her bag next to his and followed him to the largest of the three pools. Man placed rocks concreted the edges of the pool and larger stones were scattered throughout for seating. Torren stepped in with a soothing moan and sat on a boulder under the water against the side. The water came up to his chest.

  Altarn dipped a toe in and recoiled at the heat. “It’s really hot.” She looked down to find Torren’s eyes fixed on her. She bunched the robe tightly around her knees. “You are a very indecent man.”

  His focus shifted to the front again. “Perhaps don’t hover above me, then.”

  Altarn moved a couple of paces down with a scowl and tried again. The water was hot but she held her foot under until it adjusted to the heat.

  She sat on the edge with both feet in, gradually sliding the rest of her body in so it came up to her waist. She walked on fine-ground gravel back toward Torren who had peeled the robe off his shoulders and was lounged back against the side of the pool. His arms were stretched to either side and his head resting back exposed a very large adam’s apple. The black weave tattoo up his right arm spread over his shoulder and halfway across the right side of his chest.

  Other men around the pool had likewise abandoned the tops of their robes and were sleeping against the sides. The water was very soothing and warmed her to her bones. Bubbles gurgled in columns between her feet and burst with fresh explosions of sulfur at the surface. After a few moments, she didn’t even notice the bad egg smell. “You come here often?”

  Torren sunk both arms into the boil. “Not as often as I would like. It is some travel from Greatmar.”

  “Move to Blindvar, then.” She shut her eyes and clenched a fist under the water. What was she thinking, inviting her soon-to-be warring state to live mutually in her province? She knew it was bad interest traveling with a Ruid. She had learned in her court to use polite suggestions to those whom she knew would never take her up on it, simply to sound more helpful than she actually was toward the people of her dislikes.

  “Still have my contract as a soldier to fulfill.” He shrugged. “I’ve considered it. And what about you? What do you do in the Lady’s house?”

  Altarn unbraided her black hair and hung her head back in the water, moaning at the pleasure as she massaged her scalp, giving herself time to make up something. “I make the Lady’s bed, provide fresh linens, and bring meals to her when she chooses to be alone.” Comfort Altarn when life tries to drown her, share in the misery that arrives with every letter from Byrone…

  Three men arrived at the gazebo. The sleeveless robes revealed the Ruid tattoo on each of them and their thick arms declared they were likely Ruid soldiers. They climbed into the pool opposite.

  “Do you know them?” Altarn asked as she watched Torren’s eyes following them before they darted away. “They look like soldiers.”

  He shrugged. “Probably going to the fight house. It’s a popular hang out where you can earn money and strengthen your skills. But I do not know them.”

  Conversation paused as they both relaxed in the soothing heat. Altarn watched how the steam swirled above her in a yellow haze. Despite the still warm sun, the soak was like a liquid massage for her sore body. She could easily fall asleep.

  “Sulfur is really healing.” Torren dunked his head under the surface and sprayed Altarn with
water as he came up and shook his head. “If you can get over the smell.” He leaned back and rested his arms along the edge of the pool again. “What made you choose to work for the Lady?”

  This was the start. Asking about the Lady. She could slide in through the door he opened and inquire a little about Byrone. “Oh, nothing, really,” she said easily, acting as if the delay was due to being entranced by the soak. “I needed a job that did not bind me so I could break away easily in the event I got married and my husband could support both of us so I could stay home with the children.”

  “So you are not married?”

  Altarn would have liked to believe she was over reacting by thinking she watched a small smile grow on his face and she would have liked to have lied to squish whatever man-driven thought was swelling in his head, but she was a terrible liar. She had been using Kyree’s story so far but it would not help her in this matter. And it would be impossible to invent a husband as she went along without him knowing she was being suspicious about it, especially since she was lacking a ring.

  “No.” She tried to sound casual about it, but her tone came out strained. She looked at the water in front of her and played with her fingers under it, feeling more awkward by the moment.

  “But you are...” Torren’s eyes roved up and down her body. “Twenty seven years? And not bad looking either, once a man gets passed your sour looks you wear all the time. Is the Lady stealing all the men from you?”

  Hardly. Kyree was twenty-three and married with one and a half children. She shrugged, knowing the answer but pretended she didn’t. She had been treated too badly by men while in the State’s Head to want anything to do with them beyond her court of men she was forced to tolerate. That is, after Jessom she didn’t want anything more to do with men. How was she supposed to transition to questions about Byrone with this topic?

  “I’m twenty nine, and I’m hardly one to enjoy much, as you’ve commented yourself.”

  “But the further you get from the Lady’s house the more cheerful you get. We are having a pleasant time right now, aren’t we? So maybe it isn’t you, but living in the Lady’s house?”