A Crown of Lilies

by Melissa Ragland

  “When?” I asked quietly, picking up my spoon.

  He swallowed, focusing on his breakfast. “Midday.”

  I nodded and we ate in silence.

  Our quiet accord was abruptly interrupted by the thudding of boots racing across the wooden floor toward us. “Tommy!” The young man scrambled to a stop beside our table, hands on his knees as he gasped for air.

  “What is it?” he pressed, his voice tight.

  Terror seized every muscle in my body. What more could go wrong?

  He tried to speak but struggled to catch his breath. “Spit it out, boy,” Tommy growled.

  “The priests,” he blurted. “They’re spreading the sickness!”

  We both sagged in our seats, and Tommy turned away irritably. “That’s our song, lad, and long since abandoned.”

  He shook his head vigorously, grasping his boss’s arm in earnest. “No, you don’t understand! One of our runners from Savern was laying low in a village near the Darian border after a job. The Origin priests came to offer to cleanse the town and accept new supplicants for Al’Rahim. The elder refused, and sent them away.” He gulped a few breaths of air. “Our boy was making his exit that night when he saw the priests pouring something into the town well.”

  My heart lurched in my chest.

  “They’re poisoning the people, Tommy!” he pressed, his face a horrified mask.

  Hard eyes met mine. “And then they return once people start gettin’ sick,” Tommy muttered bitterly, not needing to hear the rest. “If the people submit, they slip in the antidote and call it a divine reward for their devotion to the one true god.”

  I burned with hate, hands clenched into fists atop the table. My fragile facade of calm cracked under the weight of this new revelation. I wondered if my parents had known. If they did, they hadn’t told me. I wondered, too, about Selice’s illness and the Queen’s untimely labor. There are countless poisons in the world, with nearly as many varied applications. I stood abruptly.

  “Where ye goin’, lass?” Tommy asked, his tone a caution.

  “I need to think. Come get me when it’s time.” I stalked off out the back toward the warehouse. Every piece of leather I owned got a thorough polishing that morning. Detached calm settled over me as I rubbed oil into the straps of Valor’s tack, my mind working through the knots of my anger, dismantling it and filing it away. In its place, I sought out the words to destroy a king.

  I was sharpening my blades when Tommy finally appeared. Standing, I sheathed my standard-issue sword and wrapped my arms into their bundle once more. My sapphire ring, I buckled onto one of the narrow straps of my Freyjan shield. A pang of regret hit me as I handed them to him.

  “Keep these safe, will you?” I asked softly. They would be useless where I was headed. If my words couldn’t save me, no blade would. “And start spreading the word. Tell anyone who will listen about the poison.”

  He accepted my arms and nodded. “I’ll ride with you.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You’ve done enough. This is mine.” I saddled Valor with numb fingers, the task seeming to take only an instant. Swinging into the saddle, I looked down at Tommy. “You’ll see him safe?” I pressed, patting my mount’s neck.

  “I will.” He handed me the emerald banner, my last request of him.

  “And my letters?” I fought to keep my voice strong and even.

  The look in his eyes nearly broke me. “I’ll see it done, lass.”

  I swallowed hard and pulled my cloak tight about me. “Thank you.” I couldn’t bear to linger, so I spurred Valor past him and we disappeared into the crowded streets of Dockside.

  It took a long time to reach the temple. The common people were out in force, choking the cobblestones with bodies as we drew closer to the audience. Valor pressed his way carefully through the throng. People parted, not eager to be stepped on, a few throwing curses my way. I seemed to be the only one astride.

  When we were finally within sight of the spectacle, I hesitated. There, in the sprawling square before the temple steps, a grand dais had been constructed. Upon it, Amenon sat in a gleaming golden throne. At his side, Selice’s radiant beauty shone, cheeks flushed with pink in the cold air. The High Priest lingered at the King’s left. The crowd pressed forward, kept at bay by an intimidating line of Royal Guard in white uniform, plate armor glinting in the midday sun. The Origin’s Persican soldiers lined the steps of the temple opposite them across the square, keeping the common folk in hand.

  There were easily four dozen soldiers in full plate armor, loyal to the King and his serpent. I scanned the crowd for familiar faces, but most had their backs to me, facing the dais as Amenon raised his voice over the crowd. There was nothing for it. If my allies were here, they might act. If not, what did it matter? There was no turning back. I would see it through.

  “Courage,” I murmured to my brave stallion, though it was more for me than him. I shifted my seat and Valor pressed forward into the throng. Pulling back my cowl, I sat straight and proud in the saddle. A few eyes turned, taking in my appearance, my mount, the hastily-stitched banner in my hand. On an emerald field, the Lazerin horse reared, painted in pale yellow by one of Tommy’s more artistically inclined lads. It fluttered in the cold breeze, murmurs of recognition rolling through the crowd.

  Selice saw me first, and her brilliant golden eyes lit with hope. Her father’s words faltered when he caught sight of me. Any eyes that hadn’t already found me quickly did. High Priest Solomon seethed beside the throne, his dark gaze boring into me with poorly disguised loathing. He summoned a nearby guard and murmured something discreetly, sending the man rushing off down the street.

  I drew rein when we reached the row of King’s Guard before the dais, their shields and spears turning on me. Drawing strength from my fearless stallion, I raised my voice above the din. “Do you know me, Your Majesty?”

  Amenon stared at me with his sunken eyes a long moment before waving at his guards. “Let her through.”

  I dismounted and gave Valor one last affectionate pat before leaving him to make my way through the small gap. I made my obeisance and stood alone before the dais.

  “We buried you,” Amenon said softly, disbelief in his voice.

  I nearly faltered. The faces of my parents swam in my memory, joyful voices jarringly overlaid with flashes of blackened skin and smoking cinders. “Where?” I whispered.

  A flicker of the kind man I once knew surfaced on his face. “In the royal gardens.” There was something like closure in knowing where they lay. I gathered my resolve.

  “You buried my friend, sire.” I held his gaze as I tossed the banner at his feet. “And my mother. And my father. Loyal subjects to the blood of Adulil. Your friends, once.”

  Solomon spoke up, projecting his voice over the crowd. “Take heart, child. The men responsible have been brought to justice.”

  I shifted my gaze to the priest. “More innocent lives cast onto the pyre of your spiteful god.”

  “Your parents’ deaths, while tragic, were Al’Rahim’s divine justice for their blatant disloyalty to the Crown.” A few murmurs of agreement rose from the masses.

  My nostril twitched angrily. I breathed deep, maintaining my calm. “They were loyal to Alesia.”

  He sneered. “They sought to undermine your king and his rule.”

  “Says the snake who sent his wolves to our door,” I spat back at him.

  His mouth closed with a satisfying click. Amenon perked in his seat. “What is she talking about,” he muttered to his adviser. Hope stirred in my chest. Maybe I could break through to the King, instead of tearing him down.

  I spoke up before the priest could. “Soldiers, my lord, in armor painted with the black hand of Al’Rahim. A dozen of them attacked our home and slaughtered my family before setting it alight to cover their tracks.”

  “Is this true?” his rheumy gaze settled on his adviser.

  “Of course not, my king,” Solomon replied stiffly, voice car
efully controlled. “The girl is obviously mad with grief and is struggling to make sense of her loss.”

  I wished I had my knife. One good throw and that lying snake would be dead.

  No. It had to be this way. I grasped for calm.

  “They say the same of you, sire.” I jutted my chin obstinately at him. The King’s eyes narrowed angrily. “Only instead of surrendering my nation to a foreign power, I am standing here.”

  “How dare you-” he began.

  “No one will deny that you have suffered great loss,” I pressed on through his rage. “Of that, there is no doubt.” I pointed at the priest. “But this man would have you crawling on your knees before his god-king like a dog.”

  “Careful, girl.”

  There was no more room for caution. I raised my voice for all to hear, pointing at the desecrated temple across the square behind me. “You hide in your castle while these bastards burn our people in the streets. Your people!” My voice trembled as I swept one hand over the crowd behind me. “They are waiting for you to stand and fight for them, my lord, the way you once did.” More murmurs swept the assembled masses. The priest’s eyes glinted. Amenon was silent. I pointed at the priest. “Send this creature and all his ilk back to the desert that spawned them.”

  “You dare to command your king?” Solomon snarled at me, his back stiffening.

  I bristled, unable to contain my rage. “Better to command than enslave,” I spat. “You and your devils invade our lands, poison our people, and call it your god’s divine mercy.”

  “Watch your tongue, girl! I am no one’s slave!” Amenon roared at me, standing. He looked so feeble, it surprised me he could manage it.

  I turned back to him, measuring my tone carefully. “You are lost in your grief, my lord, and he is using it to control you.” The censer seeped smoke at the foot of the throne. I jabbed one finger at it, frustration creeping into my voice. “He’s using that to control you! Why can’t you see?”

  “Your king has seen, little traitor.” The high priest’s voice overtook us, loud and magnanimous. He raised his chin proudly. “He has seen the face of Al’Rahim and been blessed with Divine Sight. The One True God has chosen Litheria as His place of great beginnings. To cleanse a nation is harrowing work, but Al’Rahim believes you can be redeemed.”

  “Redeemed?” I laughed bitterly as I advanced on him. The last fragments of my calm evaporated, hate pouring through my veins like molten metal. “We do not want your redemption!” Guards stepped forward in warning. I turned to the crowd of people behind me, waving one hand over them. “There is nothing wrong with any of these people!” I whirled on Amenon. “Except that their king has betrayed them into the hands of the enemy.”

  He closed the distance between us and backhanded me across the face. My head snapped to the side as Selice cried out in protest. My cheek stung, but it was a strike to silence, without much force behind it. Whether that was due to some lingering affection for me or his weakened state, I’ll never know. Fury and madness commingled in his brass eyes, but he was still in there somewhere. I could still reach him. I had to believe as much.

  The tide of my anger relented in the wake of his strike and I felt my purposeful calm returning. I held my king’s gaze and pointed at Solomon. “There is no great sickness. These priests are poisoning your people, sire, one village at a time. Will you do nothing?”

  “Have you any proof of this?” he demanded.

  “Ana’s word was once good enough for you.”

  “You are not her.”

  The reminder stung. “No,” I shook my head, pointing at the High Priest. “But she would be standing here beside me telling you the same if it weren’t for this snake.” Amenon considered me silently. Sweat glistened on his pale brow. There it is. My opening. I steeled myself for the ask. “Your faith is your own, sire. No one here will demand you renounce it.” I gestured again to the masses behind me. “But we are the Mother’s people - Adulil’s people. We ask that you abdicate and appoint the Princess Selice as steward queen until your son, Rishel’s son, comes of age.”

  A murmur flooded only the nearest members of the crowd. My voice was too quiet and hadn’t carried. It didn’t matter, Amenon heard me. Somewhere behind his grief, his pride, he stirred. The man I’d once admired looked out at me sadly from inside his wasting prison. I thought, for a glimmer of a moment, I’d reached him.

  “Enough of your vicious lies,” the High Priest hissed. “This is nothing more than an attempt to usurp your throne, Your Majesty.” Armor rattled as a soldier heaved a young boy up onto the dais. He’d been treated harshly, no doubt subjected to the priests’ cleansing process. He limped and trembled, his face a swollen patchwork of bruises, burn marks on one hand. I recognized him from somewhere, but couldn’t quite place him. Solomon grabbed the boy’s shirt and dragged him to the fore, presenting him to the assembled eyes.

  “Unlike you, I have proof to support my claims,” he snarled at me. “You and your parents are traitors to the Crown.” He shook the boy harshly. “Do you know this woman?”

  The child’s terrified eyes met mine, and it hit me.

  Oh, gods.

  The pit opened in my gut as I realized where I’d seen him before.

  “Confess!” Solomon struck the boy on the ear.

  He trembled. “Yes,” he murmured meekly.

  “Louder.”

  “Yes!” He began to cry.

  “Tell your king how you know her.”

  Wide blue eyes remained locked with mine. “She came to the warehouse once.”

  “Why?”

  “I heard her say she needed a forger.” He hesitated and the priest shook him again. The boy stammered on. “A few days later, Tommy had me run a packet of letters with the King’s Seal.” Tears streamed down his bruised cheeks.

  I swallowed hard. Amenon’s face twisted angrily. “What did these letters contain,” he demanded.

  The boy’s eyes flitted to him. “I don’t know, sire, please, I swear!”

  Solomon shoved the boy back toward the soldier who had delivered him. “Read the missive yourself, my lord.” He reached into his robes and proffered a worn letter with a golden seal.

  The King snatched it from his hand and began to read.

  The priest couldn’t stand to wait. “She and her traitorous parents forged your seal and stole ten of your galleons from the shipyards in Dax.”

  Amenon left off the letter and fixed his furious eyes on me. “Is this true?” he demanded.

  I held my chin high, clinging tightly to my purpose as the ground began to crumble beneath my feet. “I came to you, once, in the spring. Do you remember?”

  His eyes flickered with memory. “The hare.”

  I nodded. “You refused to defend the White Sea. I had to do something.”

  “You and your House were mustering a rebel force to overthrow the Crown,” Solomon spat. A few shouts of ‘traitor!’ rang out from the crowd. It quickly spread through the masses.

  “That is a lie!” I snapped at him, clenching my fists.

  “Our reports from the outer provinces say that your father rode in secret to rally his bannermen. Your family was amassing an army.”

  “To defend our borders!” I protested. The crowd grew louder, a cacophony of angry voices.

  “To march on this city!” Solomon countered, jabbing one finger at the ground.

  I turned my desperate gaze on Amenon as my dignified fury gave way to panic. “Please, sire, you must believe me.”

  He backed away, shaking his head, brow knitted in anger. It was a final betrayal, and he could not see past it. What little hope had remained quickly vanished. My allies would not rally behind a proclaimed traitor to the Crown. I had failed. The priest’s eyes glinted victoriously at me, his magnanimous voice summoning guards.

  I turned toward the crowd as they approached, eyes frantically scanning faces. Here and there, I spotted them, small clusters of our allies surrounded by their armsmen. Each watc
hed in horror, unmoving, unwilling to risk their Houses or their families for the sake of a condemned traitor. My heart sank when I caught Aubrey’s eye in the crowd, his face twisted in helpless desperation as his father’s men held him in place. He struggled against their mailed grips, angry shouts swallowed by the roar of the furious crowd. Reyus’ pale gaze watched me nearby, carefully masked. He understood far better than my brave, foolish friend. Nothing could save me, now.

  Valor shuffled amid the swarm of bodies and a young man climbed into the saddle. His eyes met mine as he took up the reins. “Run!” I shouted to him over the din. “Tell Tommy to get out!” I don’t know if he heard me, but he dug his heels into my brave stallion’s flanks and raced off down the street. People dove out of his path as soldiers made to chase after him.

  Then they were upon me, strong hands seizing my upper arms and checking me for hidden weapons. I stared at Amenon as the crowd grew more chaotic around us.

  “Please,” I begged over the clamor of the mob. “You must listen!” His sunken brass eyes regarded me with a mix of hurt and anger before he turned away. My desperate pleas fell on deaf ears as his armed escort surrounded him, keeping the masses at bay as he and Selice climbed into their carriage.

  They paraded me through the streets on foot toward the city guard garrison, beneath which lay Litheria’s prison. A sizeable crowd followed, the fever of excitement feeding their frenzy. Shouts of ‘traitor’ and ‘hang her’ echoed through the throng. My captors raised their shields against a hail of rocks, though it was to protect themselves, certainly not me. People spat at me and flung curses. Spears kept them at arm’s length, but it was a long and miserable walk through the people I had tried – and failed – to protect. When they finally shoved me ungently into my cell, I was almost glad for it.

  “Don’t get too comfortable,” one guard taunted from the other side of the iron bars.

  When I was sure he was gone, I sank down against one damp stone wall and wrapped my arms around my knees. It was bitterly cold, but at least they’d not taken my cloak from me. Faces swam in my mind, of all the people I had failed. My parents, Shera, our household, James, all dead for nothing. All because I had to help Adrian. If it hadn’t been for the ships, I would have gotten through to Amenon. I had been so close. The crush of despair crept into my chest.