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The Lost Princess Returns

Page 13

by Jeffe Kennedy


  “When I married—as I was told to do, to a man known for his violence and brutality—I suffered greatly at his hands. Some of you will remember that, too.” A number of the women averted their gazes, some faces creased in sympathy, others in hard commiseration. “It is a woman’s lot to serve, we’ve been told, whether it gives us pleasure or pain. A woman’s lot to suffer, some say. I’m here to tell you that is a lie. This life, this place, the cake you eat, is all a lie.” I swept my hands at the false tropical paradise, sunk deep beneath the lake.

  “I’m here to tell you the truth: I escaped that marriage.” A murmur ran through them, some faces alighting with vindication, others dubious. “I escaped Dasnaria. I took a sailing ship across the sea to a city where women roam freely, where they handle money and own property, and only marry if they wish to—and they choose who to. They choose who they take to their beds, and do so for their pleasure, for love, for happiness.”

  I spun into a movement of the ducerse, blades flashing. “I learned to use the dances of my youth to wield blades, to defend myself and others. My journeys continued—for the world is larger than anyone can imagine—and I went to the hot grasslands of another land. I became Ivariel, warrior priestess of Danu. I fell in love with a man who has never raised a hand to me in twenty years of joyful marriage.”

  The murmurs grew louder. “I have four children, and I have a herd of elephants who fill my life. It is a wide, glorious world, and I’m here to tell you that you do not have to live in this seraglio any longer.”

  “But it’s dangerous out there,” a woman shouted, a rekjabrel I recognized.

  “Is it?” I demanded. “More dangerous than the men who use you? So many of us die at their hands, from violence and from neglect. How many years do you have left in you, Mara? The world offers you the chance to take care of yourself, where you don’t need to be anyone’s ornament or sexual servant.” I looked at Karyn, sheathed my blades and held out a hand to her, helping her up onto my platform. “Karyn has been there, too.”

  “I have,” she said, too quietly, then lifted her chin and her voice. “I was afraid, certain I would die without the protection of my husband, my father, my brothers. With no one to feed me, how would I eat? With no bed to warm, what shelter would I have?”

  The women nodded, a murmur of agreement washing over us. “But I found those things for myself.” Karyn stabbed a finger at her chest. “I have fought in battles, and I have taken a lover for joy of being with him. And I came back here to fight for you, so that you may have the same. You do not have to live this life any longer.”

  “They treated us like children to be kept under watchful eye,” I added. “But we are women grown, and the world belongs to us as much as it does to men. It’s time to leave the seraglio and walk the earth as adults.”

  As if on cue, a booming sound hit the doors. Something clattered on the other side. The doors shivered. Women squealed and I held up my hands to calm them. “Those are our liberators,” I explained. I hoped.

  Another boom! And the doors shuddered in their frame. “Today we tear down these doors!” I shouted. “They have been the locked gate that kept you in this cage. If you wish, you may still live in here, but you will come and go at will.”

  Boom! The doors shattered, pieces falling inward, revealing two huge grizzly bears in the frame. Women shrieked—and my own heart clutched at the terrifying sight—but Karyn let out a glad cry and ran toward them.

  The twin bears disappeared, becoming Zyr and Zynda. Zyr caught Karyn in his arms, kissing her long and deep, then tenderly wiping her tears away. The room fell silent at the sight. He looked up, scanning the scene. “Good Moranu,” he said. “This is worse than the zoo at n’Andana.”

  She laughed a little, and Zynda came up to us, bringing with her a slender, dark-skinned man with solemn, intelligent eyes and a long queue of deep brown hair. He nodded at Inga and Helva. “Everything is in place, Your Imperial Highnesses,” he said with a bow. “Several carts of weapons await at the top of the stairs.” He turned to me, bowed again. “You must be Priestess Ivariel. I am Akamai, a friend of Queen Dafne Nakoa Kau’Po.” He winked. “Librarian and spy, at your service.”

  “I’m glad to meet you,” I said, then looked between him and Zynda. “Kral’s status?”

  “Hestar is faltering, but Leo is leading the guard to surround them. It sounds like they have orders to cut down Kral and Harlan if Kral is victorious. The situation does not look promising.”

  At those words, Jepp blazed past at top speed. Karyn looked at Zyr. “My bow is on top of the tower we came in.”

  “Let’s go get it,” he replied, and became a huge black cat. She climbed astride, and he galloped up the stairs with her.

  “Ivariel?” Zynda asked. I hesitated, looking to Inga and Helva.

  “Go with them,” Inga told me. “Go protect Harlan.” She and Helva exchanged a fierce look. “We’ll lead the women to take the palace from within.”

  “Will they know how to use the weapons?” I asked.

  Inga beckoned to the servant women Jepp had been talking to. “This is Sunniva and Runa. Jepp taught them how to turn everyday tools such as scissors into weapons. Every woman who wished to learn has been taught.” The two women curtseyed deeply.

  “It’s an honor to meet the lost princess,” Runa said.

  “You are our hero,” Sunniva agreed with a shy smile.

  “Jen—I mean, Ivariel, is a hero to all of us,” Inga said. “You are right, Ivariel. I respect who you’ve chosen to be. That was an excellent speech,” she added with a smile, and Helva fanned herself.

  I seized her, and Helva, in a tight embrace—remembering the last time, when we said goodbye. “I’ll see you soon,” I promised.

  “It better be sooner than twenty years!” Helva shouted at my back. Zynda had become a tiger, glorious and terrifying in her fiery beauty as she pranced impatiently waiting for me. Hers was a beauty my mother could never have understood, much less hoped to match. I hesitated only briefly, then clambered astride, her fur velvet soft and inches thick. She took a few experimental steps, and I clung with my thighs.

  “I’m good,” I said. “Run like the wind.”

  ~ 18 ~

  Zynda raced after Jepp, who’d been passed by Zyr and Karyn. She ran gamely on down the hallway—and I saw Karyn standing outside the open door of the room we’d come in.

  “To the roof,” she called, and I shot a fist in agreement. Good plan. We burst into the room and Zyr, in gríobhth form, stood on hind legs, front talons gripping the window ledge. Dawn was breaking outside, soft rose and gold breathing against the violet blue, lovely and unconcerned about the pitched events of the mortal creatures below.

  Zyr spun his glossy black eagle’s head around and clacked his lethally curved beak impatiently at Karyn. “I had to wait to tell them, didn’t I?” she bit out, vaulting onto his back.

  No sooner was she in place than he gathered his haunches and sprang out the window—dropping like a stone. With a choked cry, I ran to the window, only to be nearly blown back by the furious wings of Zyr shooting to the top of the tower.

  Zynda flew past me in hummingbird form, then burst into her enormous dragon self in mid-sky.

  “Guess we’re done being subtle,” Jepp observed, pointing past Zynda to Kiraka diving with billowing flame. She disappeared beyond the curve of the walls—to where we’d last seen Kral and Harlan.

  “Guess we’re climbing up,” I said, my shoulders weeping at the thought as I clambered onto the window ledge.

  “Guess again,” Jepp called, right as Zynda’s taloned dragon hand reached out and plucked me from the ledge.

  Yes, I screamed, before I managed to quell the animal terror. She held me in her scaly palm, the claws making a cage to keep me from falling. This kind of cage I didn’t mind a bit. Zynda circled once, then swept down to pluck Jepp from the ledge. She handled it much better than I had, leaping with agile grace and finding purchase, clinging to one
huge talon. Presumably she had some practice with this sort of thing.

  Maybe when we got back to Annfwn, I’d put Jepp on Violet—or Efe!—and see how she did then. Then Zynda rounded the curve of the palace walls and all frivolous thoughts fled from my mind.

  Hestar had cheated, indeed. I didn’t know much about how the men arrayed their forces, but I did know enough of the epic sagas to recall the rules of the bjoja at haseti and it was absolutely supposed to be single combat, no interference. Not this.

  Men in armor—they did look like a cavalcade of black beetles from this height—streamed across the single bridge over the lake, joining a deep circle surrounding the fighting pair and their seconds. Jepp seemed to be studying the bridge with great interest, and I realized all the drawbridge sections were down, making a single, unbroken surface. It made sense on one level, not to slow down reinforcements heading out—but it also would make it easier for an army going in.

  Too bad we didn’t have an army.

  Zynda passed over the incipient battlefield, giving us a good look, then roared at the men running across the bridge. They screamed, diving off into the water, and I felt much better about myself for being scared. More guards streamed in from the outposts around the lake—or they tried to. Kiraka dove at them, fiery breath making them flatten to the ground. Marskal, atop Kiraka’s back, gave Zynda a fist-pumping signal, then pointed Kiraka to burn arrows out of the air that shot toward Zyr and Karyn, who flew in from the far side.

  Karyn had her bow strung, quiver on her back, but she didn’t fire on anyone. Our side, at least, respected the bjoja at haseti. Theirs seemed to be close to breaking it, which meant we’d face the all-out battle we’d hoped to avoid.

  Harlan guarded Kral’s back, holding off the encroaching circle of warriors testing his defenses. They mostly feinted, to my eye, preparing to cut him down the moment either Kral or Hestar failed. Which looked to be soon.

  My two brothers circled each other in the clearing of armed warriors, both visibly exhausted. Their plate armor hung off here and there in jagged pieces, and Kral was dragging one leg. Hestar still wielded his broadsword with both hands, but it sagged to one side, where the shoulder was clearly injured. He shouted something and charged Kral, swinging that mighty blade and connecting with Kral’s side, the clang! so loud it echoed up to us. The assembled men cheered, and Kral staggered drunkenly.

  In Zynda’s other fist, Jepp stood poised with vibrating tension, glaring daggers at the duel as if she could affect the outcome with her gaze alone. If I’d ever doubted the realness of the love between Jepp and Kral, I didn’t anymore. And I also understood how and why that love had changed him.

  Love had changed me, too. So many people had offered love to me without reserve or price. Perhaps we weren’t all doomed to become what our parents had been—and what they’d tried to mold us into. And all because Harlan had refused to go along with things as they’d always been. He’d dared to defy them all—and lit a spark for a fire that kept spreading.

  “Drop me next to Harlan!” I shouted up to Zynda.

  Jepp’s head whipped around, then she nodded. “Me too.”

  Zynda dropped, swooping low over the lake of armored warriors, arrows bouncing off her scales with chimes like music. She held us carefully protected, then backwinged sharply as the ground rushed up.

  “Drop and roll!” Jepp shouted. I nodded. First thing we taught the kids on riding elephants—how to fall off. Zynda opened her dragon hands, giving me a slope at least, and I tumbled down it. I hit ground with a decent roll, and came to my feet behind Harlan.

  “Your sword’s on my belt,” he said, keeping his own pointed at the men edging ever closer.

  “Thanks. Inga and Helva say hi.”

  He grunted, lifting his sword menacingly at a warrior who took a step. “And Hulda?”

  “Dead.”

  “Good. Any of that your blood?”

  “Nope.”

  Another soldier abruptly jolted forward, scrambling back when Harlan swung his sword with a roar.

  “This looks bad though,” I commented, moving my sword to loosen my shoulders, twirling the dagger in my other hand.

  “You think?”

  “Worse than you know. Reinforcements are pouring in from the back. These guys are getting pushed from behind. Soon they’ll figure that out and break ranks.”

  “You sure you don’t know battle strategy?”

  “I never said that. I know plenty about fighting aggressors—just not beetle men.”

  He laughed, a short bark. “How’d the duel look?”

  “Like two drunks reduced to taking blind swings. I can’t tell who will fall first.”

  “Either way, we’ll be swarmed the moment one does.”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Whoever thought up this plan is an idiot.”

  “Sounds like my Kral,” Jepp said, rejoining us, a dagger in each hand. “My question is, since Hestar already cheated, and we’re all doomed either way, why can’t I kill him?”

  “Because Hestar is mine,” I said. “Remember your prophecy?”

  “Right. Yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “Too bad you didn’t summon a bigger army of dragons, shapeshifters, and sorcerers, though.”

  “Didn’t I? I think it’s time to call Andi.”

  Her eyes widened. “Danu’s tits, you’re a genius.” She grabbed me and kissed me hard on the mouth. “Go slay that monster. We’ll have your back.”

  Jenna boiled up in me, and I welcomed her fury. The blood burned hot in my veins, creeping red-black in the corners of my vision. The red rage, indeed. I lifted my sword.

  “Hestar!” I bellowed, striding forward. As I passed Kral, he collapsed to his knees, and Jepp rushed to his side, helping him up, and dragging him toward Harlan’s shielding sword.

  Zyr landed in whoosh between their trio and the advancing guard. He screamed an unearthly eagle’s cry and lion’s roar at them, and the men scrambled back in terror. Karyn leveled her bow at them. “First man to move gets an arrow in the eye,” she snarled at them.

  Hestar stared at me as if seeing a ghost. Good. I smiled.

  “Hestar, son of Einarr,” I shouted. “I am your elder sister, Jenna, and I have come to take your life.”

  He actually took a staggering step backward, his face inside his helm pale, his eyes bright with fear. “Jenna?” he managed.

  “The very one. The gods are disappointed in you, Hestar. You betrayed Sól by allowing Deyrr into your heart and mind. You have been stripped of your divinity.”

  “You’re not Jenna!” he shouted. “Jenna is dead.”

  “That’s right.” I smiled, letting Jenna shine through with her bloodthirst. “I died. I died a thousand deaths, and now I’ve come from the afterlife to drag you back with me. Time to die, Hestar.”

  He threw down his sword, and ran.

  Laughing, I ran after him. He was pitifully slow in his heavy armor, already exhausted from battling Kral. I caught up and leapt, kicking him hard on the back of his knee, sending him to plant his face in the ground. He began crawling, sobbing, calling for someone to save him.

  Behind me, dragons roared and people shouted. The sky seemed to be suddenly filled with sound and fury.

  I ignored it all, stalking on silent bare feet after the pitiful Hestar. Reaching him, I put the point of my sword at the weak join between helm and the carapace of armor over his shoulders.

  “Will you die face down in the mud like a worm?” I inquired silkily. “Or will you be a man and face your death?”

  He rolled over onto his back, flinching when I put a foot on his chest, pinning him down. His pale blue eyes watered in his puffy face, and he held up empty mailed hands in a plea. “Please. Jenna, please! I’ll give you anything. Wealth. Power.”

  “I don’t want those things.”

  “What do you want? We were close once. They called us the twins, remember? We can be close again.”

  “There is one thing I want,”
I conceded.

  “What? Anything.”

  I lifted my dagger hand, showing him the thick scars ridging my wrist. “I want this to have never happened. I want all my scars, inside and out, to be gone. Can you do that for me?”

  He gaped. Stammered. “I… I’m sorry that happened.”

  “Are you?” I inquired as if casually curious. Something roared overhead with a blaze of heat and Hestar stared in horror. I didn’t bother to look. “Pay attention, Hestar. A man only dies once. You should be present when it happens.”

  “I would’ve helped you if I could have, Jenna” he protested.

  “Jenna is dead,” I replied. “You helped murder her.”

  “I couldn’t do any—”

  I stabbed my sword through his open mouth. “Liar,” I said softly.

  He reached up as if to grab the blade, but already the life faded from his eyes. They fell to the ground as he died.

  I turned to face the rising sun and began a dance of prayer, repentance, and gratitude.

  ~ 19 ~

  The noise and fury of the attack turned out to be largely illusion—though one powerful enough to scatter the Imperial Palace guard into the forest. Zynda and Kiraka drove off the few brave men who tried to take a stand. Zyr and Karyn picked off the rest who attempted to fight.

  Kral mustered the ones that remained, who threw down their arms. These men had served him as General of the Dasnarian forces. With Jepp fierce and bloody at his side, Kral organized the guard, detailing a group to carry Hestar’s body into the Imperial Palace.

  “We’ll burn him according to tradition,” Kral informed us as we joined him. Andi’s illusions had faded from the sky. Kiraka, Zynda, and Zyr making lazy sweeps to patrol the blue sky of a lovely summer morning. “It’s more than he deserves,” he said, face lined with exhaustion.

  “But it’s the right thing to do,” Harlan agreed. “If we’re not going to burn the empire down, then we should observe the order of things.”

 

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