Upon the Flight of the Queen

by Howard Andrew Jones

  Additionally, the box held five sacred sapphires removed from their housings, cradled within an inner velvet-lined niche. Rylin warred with himself as he stared down at them. He’d carried Decrin’s ring from The Fragments and for a brief moment he contemplated abandoning his plan and simply placing it with these and restoring them to their proper place. Together with Decrin’s, these were the last of the unassigned rings, and the last “spares” handed down from the days of Queen Altenera and the first few generations of champions of the realm. He’d thrilled to the exploits of the Altenerai since he was a young man, but few as much as that first circle, flawed though they were. Did he have the right to abscond with these tools and risk their destruction? Altenera herself had probably handled each of these rings, and perhaps the sapphires as well.

  Yes, he thought. Yes, he did. He had left the hearthstone he’d used to charge the semblance with Commander N’lahr, lest he be revealed by carrying it with him. Without a hearthstone of his own, if someone were to use one against him, the surest bulwark was an Altenerai ring. A single one hadn’t had the strength to hold back an attack, though it had slowed even Cerai, wielding multiple stones. One tiny ring. If he faced a similar assault from another hearthstone-armed attacker, he would be better prepared.

  He knew he should hurry, but he took each one from the box and placed it gingerly upon the old dark wood of the desk, then the sapphires beside them. He shut the box, slid it back into the safe, then gently pushed it closed until he heard the click. He recalled the relatively simple steps Denaven had shown him, knowing it was a process created by the great Herahn himself. With his own ring shining, he reached forth with his will and activated the quiescent power within every single one. He couldn’t think of a time in history when an alten had wakened a ring for himself, much less used more than one.

  But he tied the threads of those rings to his own magics, one by one, and then did the same thing to the sapphires, only to deactivate them. It wouldn’t do to wander around with all of them active and shining, but with them all linked, they would be at his command in an instant as surely as his own ring.

  With care, he placed them within his belt pouches.

  And then he hesitated as he caught sight of Asrahn’s noble features looking out at him beside the door. Rylin carried the future of the corps with him, in a very real way.

  No, he seemed to imagine the old Master of Squires say, the future of the corps lay with the squires coming up. These were their tools, and he risked much to carry them all together. But then the corps, and the city itself, was at stake. This was a step Rylin had to take.

  Before departing, he gave thought to the squire sitting at the desk outside, and how he might unobtrusively gain information from him. While he easily knew the sixth and fifth rankers by name, and probably all of the fourth, there were considerably more of the lower ranks, and the man’s name escaped him, which might be a problem, given that Thelar had probably picked him for this post.

  Rylin reactivated the semblance stone and his Thelar disguise, left the room, and paused before the desk. The squire, a long-limbed fellow with a shock of thick yellow hair, eyed him through wide brown eyes and failed in his attempt to not look apprehensive. Rylin noted that the sheet with doodles had disappeared. Once again the squire made to rise.

  Rylin signaled him to keep his seat then adopted an approximation of Thelar’s clipped tones. “You seem burdened with spare time today, Squire.”

  The unfortunate man wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He tried not to make a show of gulping, and his eyes fixed upon Rylin’s as a hare watches the predator about to attack.

  “Why don’t you order your thoughts and provide me with a security assessment. Assume that I’ve just ridden in from a long patrol. Advise me on the state of the city’s defenses.”

  “Yes, sir.” The squire hesitated only a moment. “The walls remain the same as ever. Wide-ranging patrols watch all approaches upon Darassus. The exalts have used magic to carefully monitor these approaches, especially in light of the recent Naor attacks.”

  What did he mean by that? “What sort of attacks? Be specific.”

  “The invasions of The Fragments and Arappa.”

  “If you were in my boots, what would you be most worried about at this particular instance?”

  The younger man looked up at him warily, as if he were attempting to judge how angry his superior would be with the truth. “Well, sir, given that we’re aware that the Naor are invading both Arappa and The Fragments, I feel that we ought to direct resources to the city’s walls.”

  “Yes. And I sense that you wish to offer more suggestions?”

  “Yes, sir.” The squire was warming to the topic. “I don’t actually know what it is that the queen’s going to be saying in the stadium this afternoon, so perhaps it’s necessary to pull back our patrols to have all of the exalts there. But the security arrangements around her appearance are taking resources away from our borders at a bad time. And the exalts…” He stopped without finishing the thought.

  Now that sounded interesting. “Go on.”

  “Yes, sir.” The young man’s squared jaw revealed an undercurrent of anger. “I don’t understand why there’s so much secrecy over whatever’s been transported to the stadium. I assume it’s going to be revealed when Queen Leonara speaks, or it wouldn’t be moved there from the Exalt wing. But why not brief the squires about what’s happening? We’re traditionally responsible for the security of the realms.”

  Hearthstones, he realized. She was moving hearthstones. But why? “I see. So you don’t like the security arrangements of the transfer?”

  “It seems as though you’ve planned it well, sir—”

  “I don’t want a compliment. I want an analysis.”

  “Yes, sir. I think it would have been safer, whatever it is, if there were more squires deployed. I know the exalts can keep a watch for any disguised enemies, but we can provide physical security against unforeseen threats.”

  “How many disguised enemies do you think there are?”

  “At least two.” The squire eyed him as if considering that he might be one.

  Rylin didn’t think it likely this third ranker had any magical talent, though. He was darkly amused the exalts would be so troubled after he and Varama had infiltrated the Hall of Exalts under disguise that they remained alert for their return. He decided to prod for further information with a Thelar-like question. “You don’t think the exalts are a good enough martial resource?”

  That changed the squire’s focus. Perhaps he suddenly remembered that it was Thelar who trained exalts. “It’s just … they may be more magically focused, sir.” He grew more certain he was in the right, and spoke on. “No offense, but I know it’s true. The squires are loyal to the queen, I know it. She should trust them.”

  “Are they loyal to the queen, or the realms? The realms come first.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Before all things, you must remember that you are the shepherd of the lands, not a sentinel of the queen.”

  For the first time, the squire seemed to appraise him, personally, rather than him as a superior officer. Probably Thelar had never said anything like this to him before.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The queen may change, but the realms endure.” Rylin knew he was saying too much, and that he no longer sounded like Thelar, but he sensed an opportunity to impact the squire’s understanding of the corps’ principles.

  The younger man answered. “Yes, sir.”

  “Carry on.”

  The city’s population could be packed into the stadium, which was designed to seat tens of thousands of locals and visitors for the annual Altenerai games. But why would the queen be gathering there, with the hearthstones, unless it was to reveal their power to the Darassans? Rylin couldn’t imagine the point, and suspected he must be missing some key piece of information.

  Immediately stricken with a strong sense of foreboding, he debated going to the sta
dium himself, but it occurred to him that with the palace nearly empty of exalts and squires he might be better served with a look around the queen’s rooms at this time.

  Course chosen, he headed past the squire deep into the recesses of the Altenerai wing, and stopped at the display case where the replica of Irion should have hung. The glass broken by Kyrkenall had been repaired, but someone had removed the fake. Rylin frowned at the thought and saw, in the reflection, Thelar frowning back at him. It was a reminder of how little time he had remaining on the semblance. He touched it through the inner world and realized he had less than a few minutes.

  He’d been foolish to waste any of them with that squire.

  He strode past the entryway into the famed hexagonal meeting room of the Altenerai, just managing not to stop to salute the ancient statue of Queen Altenera, and moved on toward the central section of the palace. A grand hallway lay directly ahead, leading to the throne room, but he turned instead up a smaller flight of dark granite stairs he’d only used once, when he’d been invited to a less formal receiving room upon being awarded his ring.

  Beyond the stairs lay the reception area, and beyond it another open hall, and a series of doors. A second-rank squire stood guard outside one set of double doors, just to the left of a shaft of bright blue light shining through a stained-glass half-moon window.

  Rylin stopped in front of the young woman and returned her salute.

  “The queen’s not in, sir.”

  “I know that.” Rylin snapped in what he thought was the best imitation of Thelar he’d yet managed. “She sent me back to retrieve some important materials.”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

  He was still debating what he’d do if the squire challenged him further when the young woman simply moved aside. Rylin opened one of the double doors and went through, dropping the semblance and closing the portal behind him.

  Beyond was a small sitting room. Apart from the ornate furniture beside marble top tables, there were walls with red leatherbound books, and a large window overlooking a courtyard. He was fairly sure that the double doors to the right would lead to a bedroom. The single door on the left, though—

  It was an empty office, one furnished with a quartet of sumptuous chairs and an elaborately carved white desk and many bookshelves. For all that there were a multitude of storage places, the room was disorganized. Papers were stacked on nearly every surface, and scrolls were piled high both in their own cubbies and atop books. A second door faced the desk. He stepped to it quickly, saw the key set into its lock, and tested it gingerly to confirm it secure.

  Turning, he used his Altenerai ring to sense the powers within the room, keeping its radius tight.

  He immediately detected multiple energy sources, and found a shelf just below eye level given over to a long row of small crystalline marbles of different shades, each smaller than a hearthstone. At one end sat a long, rough-cut emerald a little smaller than the palm of his hand. And beside it lay an Altenerai ring.

  He picked up the ring and turned it over in his hand, wondering as to its purpose here. Altenerai had a hard time walking away from their rings, even if they left the corps. Retired Altenerai often wore them unto their deaths, only afterward having relatives or friends return them.

  While a variety of Altenerai had been lost in battle or vanished over the centuries, only a handful of rings were unrecovered in recent years. He wasn’t sure what had become of Cargen’s or K’narr’s—though they were likely in Kyrkenall’s possession, since he’d killed them and their sapphires hadn’t been in the storage box. Probably one of those was now Elenai’s. Two others were likely in the trophy rooms of the Naor who had killed their wearers. An additional two had simply disappeared with their owners. This particular ring was more likely to have belonged to one of the latter pair. But was this ring Renik’s, or Kalandra’s? It looked smaller than his own, but just to be certain he attempted to slip it onto his finger.

  It didn’t fit. He’d heard an awful lot about Renik over the years, and he’d never heard anyone mention he had delicate fingers.

  Likely, then, this was Kalandra’s ring. Why was it here, rather than with the others, unless the queen had been involved in her disappearance? Almost certainly she was dead, probably at the hand of the exalts. He felt his mouth tighten.

  He ran his eyes around the familiar lines of the oath inscribed along the rim about the sapphire, wondering about the ring’s history. Denaven had told him his ring’s lineage when it had been bestowed upon him, and he knew it had come from Lahnik, and Sergahn before him. It had once been worn by Ceria Silverhand. Kalandra’s ring surely had an equally grand heritage.

  He used the power of his own ring to light hers, and threaded it in with his already powerful collection. Rylin realized he was carrying more sapphires than there’d been Altenerai in a single place in a long, long time.

  He reverently pocketed the ring, then sensed again for nearby life force, finding no one but himself and the guard within range.

  Rylin turned his attention to the stones, each of which radiated a faint magical dweomer. Were they tools, or weapons? There’d be no way to know without time spent in careful examination. Reluctantly, he turned away and looked over the piles of paper.

  The majority proved to be extremely detailed topographical maps. Here was a coastline with a river delta, here a mountainous landscape with tiny trees where two rivers joined. There were pages and pages of these maps, some of which were filled with cramped handwriting that provided additional information to an absurd degree—the precise scale of a slope, the elevation of a ridge, the depth of a river. After a few moments, he stopped trying to make sense of them and set them aside, shifting his attention to the material on Leonara’s desk, most of which sat in a single stack.

  The queen was often followed by a secretary to whom she dictated, but he’d seen the queen’s hand on several documents over the years and this looked like it might be hers.

  He lifted the top paper, and his first assumption that it was a letter was quickly dispelled. It wasn’t addressed to anyone, unless you counted that opening line, where Leonara made clear she was speaking to the people of Darassus. He sifted through the parchment beneath with interest, discovering that he held pages from the rough draft of a speech. He read quickly, growing both confused and a little frightened as he did so.

  The queen planned to usher in a new age which would be presided over by one lone, benevolent goddess, which she herself would bring forth from lost artifacts her retainers had risked their lives to recover. Hearthstones, he thought bitterly, though the queen didn’t call them by name.

  Who exactly that godddes was she must have addressed in sections that weren’t there, for the speech stopped in mid-sentence at the bottom of one page. The dozens beneath it were taken up with the composition of a prayer to the new godddess.

  Rylin read, and then skimmed ten pages of permutations on the prayer before leaving off, understanding he’d find only relentless adjustments of glowing adjectives and lines of praise. He lowered the papers, shaking his head in bewilderment and alarm. So this is what the queen and the exalts had been working toward? This is what they planned to share with the people of Darassus this afternoon? It staggered his imagination.

  The neglect of the realms, the lying, the betrayals, the murders—all of it apparently stretched to the queen’s unshaking belief in the return of her lost goddess, for whom the queen had written “sacrifices have been made, necessary for a better world.” None of those losses, she planned to declare, truly mattered in the ultimate glory that would be shared with all.

  To Rylin’s way of thinking, those sacrifices mattered more than anything else. Even if there was some unknown goddess ready to fill their lives with bounty, the queen’s moral deficiencies and religious zealotry rendered her unfit for any kind of decision, much less one so monumental. She didn’t have the right to summon a god without the consent of her people. She didn’t have the right to choose fo
r everyone a radically changed world that would alter every life in ways she couldn’t possibly anticipate.

  Rylin dropped the papers on the desk. He’d round up Lasren and Elik and all the squires and guards and head to the amphitheater. He’d wait while the queen said her piece, so her madness was made obvious to all, then arrest her, probably without much outcry from anyone but the exalts.

  His ring alerted him to a person nearing his proximity. He stilled, putting all his concentration into it, and realized two people had just moved into the adjoining room and appeared to be walking toward him.

  He stepped quickly to the locked door, twisted the key to open it, listening to the sound of footfalls draw closer. He wasn’t sure where this door led, but he didn’t sense anyone beyond, and he heard a hand on the other knob.

  He activated Thelar’s image with his semblance, opened the door a narrow distance, and slid through, closing it quietly behind him. He emerged upon a landing flanked by two closed doors, one on his left, the other to his right, with a huge mosaic of galloping horses at sunset between them. A white granite stairwell stretched down from the landing to the palace hall.

  A pair of exalts strode confidently up the steps. To the rear was a tall, brown-haired man. In the lead climbed the corps commander, Synahla, she of the striking violet eyes. Her pretty throat was bared, the top hooks of her khalat undone so that he glimpsed a ruby pendant resting upon a silver chain above the swell of her breasts. A dozen or more squires, including the third ranker he’d spoken with outside the Altenerai offices, waited at the foot of the stairs.

  As surprised as he was to see her, just outside of the range of his ring, she appeared not in the least bit startled to see him, although she paused halfway up.

  He advanced onto the landing, for he sensed the people behind him drawing near, just as he now sensed a pair of people moving through that room on the other side of the landing.