Winter Queen

by Amber Argyle

  Darrien stood above her, his laughter fading. “Good to see you still have some embers of your former fire. This wouldn’t be any fun otherwise.”

  To her disbelief, he turned and began walking away. He wasn’t going to claim her as his tiam, force her to come back with him? She gaped, letting the waves rock her. Finally, she came out of the water and looked down at herself. She very much resembled a drowned sheep. She shook some of the water from her hands before crossing them over her stomach and hurrying back toward the Riesen encampment.

  When she’d first come down this path, she’d been blind to everything but the need to escape. Now, she noted the wild roses, heavy with bloom, their fruity scent crowding the damp air. Her mouth still tasted of briny water. A breeze danced across her clammy skin, and she shivered. When she was about halfway to the camp, Rone came running toward her, his axe at the ready, his face the one she’d seen him wear before he killed a man.

  He was the father of her child.

  She hugged herself tighter.

  “Ilyenna! What happened?”

  Tears stung her eyes. By the Balance, she was tired of crying. She planted her feet and glared at him. “What do you think happened?” His gaze darted around, panic plain on his face. Her heart softened a little, the tenderness she’d so firmly tamped down tempering her voice. “Darrien found me by the sea.”

  “So he tried to drown you!” Rone roared.

  Ilyenna shook her head. “No. He shoved me when I tried to hurt him.”

  She finally allowed herself to look at Rone, really look at him. He was a good man. He might not love her, but he didn’t deserve her hatred. Neither did her baby. With that thought, the newborn flames of hate Ilyenna had nurtured toward him sputtered and died. She could only hope those same flames hadn’t charred part of her soul.

  She hadn’t quite forgiven him. But somehow she knew she would.

  “He let you go?” Rone asked, his brow furrowed.

  Had he? Ilyenna got the feeling Darrien would never let her go. That she’d never be strong enough to completely free herself of him. Unable to stop herself, she reached up and cupped Rone’s face in her hand. “For now.”

  He took her hand in his. “I’ll get you back. From now on, you stay inside the encampment until the Council meets.” He began pulling her toward camp.

  19. The Link

  Ressa stumbled into the tent. Behind her, Varris came in, holding a small tub of water. After she’d set it down, Ressa motioned for her daughter to leave them. The younger woman glanced at Ilyenna before moving to obey. Ressa inspected Ilyenna as if doubting her eyes. “He really let you go?”

  “Yes.” Ilyenna stripped off her clothes and dropped them into the water Varris had brought. She pushed the clothes down to release the air, then began wringing out the salt.

  Ressa crossed her arms. “I’m sorry. Rone was right. I shouldn’t have let you go anywhere alone.” Her lips pulled down into a severe frown. “I just wanted to give you a moment’s peace. I’m so sorry.”

  “Rone didn’t want me to go?”

  Ressa shook her head. “He started after you and I stopped him. When word came that the Tyrans had come, he took off after you.”

  Ilyenna tried to smile, but her lips seemed to have forgotten how. “No harm done.”

  Ressa nodded shortly. “Otec is here.”

  “My father?”

  “He’s asked to see you.” The older clan mistress seemed to be gauging Ilyenna’s reaction.

  Ilyenna crumpled, her hands slipping to her lap. She watched the soapy water run down her naked thighs. “See me?” she said in a daze. “I can’t see him.”

  Ressa lifted the tent flap and called for Varris to bring more water. “Your father has every right to see you. You can’t deny him that.”

  Ilyenna swallowed to keep from crying again. “I can’t. I’d have to tell him I’ve shamed him. I can’t bear it.”

  Ressa took over washing the dress, her hands sure and strong. “Under the circumstances, I think it best only you and I know your secret, at least until things settle.”

  Ilyenna gaped at her. A clan mistress suggesting she break clan law? Varris brought in more water and left again. Ressa tugged the dress out of the soapy water and rinsed it in the fresh tub. “One thing about being a clan mistress as long as I have, I’ve learned that laws are created to protect people. If the law doesn’t protect anyone, it can be bent—or broken all together.”

  She handed Ilyenna the soap. “Now clean yourself up. I’ve heard salt water is about as irritating as a dress full of hay.”

  Using the cleaner water, Ilyenna reluctantly obeyed, moving in numb routine. When she’d finished braiding her hair, Ressa pulled out another of Varris’s dresses—this one much finer than the last, with embroidery around the hems—and pulled it over Ilyenna’s head. Then she stepped back, inspecting Ilyenna. “Well, I wish we’d had more time to fatten you up, but considering how you looked when you came to us, I suppose it’ll have to do.”

  Ressa gripped Ilyenna’s hand and pulled her out of the tent, through the women’s side of the camp, and right up to Gen’s tent. “Husband,” she called. “I’ve come with Ilyenna to see her father.”

  “Come inside,” Gen called back.

  Casting Ilyenna a look that said she’d better follow, Ressa went in. Ilyenna shifted her weight nervously and glanced around, searching for some kind of escape. Her eyes locked with Rone’s, who was watching her from beside one of the men’s tents with a grim expression.

  He might not know about his child, but he knew about their shared shame. He rose to his feet and came to her side. “We’ll face your father together,” he said. He took a step closer and whispered so softly she barely heard him, “But there’s no need to tell him yet. We’ll see what the Council’s verdict is first.”

  Both Rone and Ressa were telling her to lie, and Ilyenna didn’t have the courage to tell either of them no, to face the consequences of what she’d done. Nodding, she followed him inside. Ressa raised an eyebrow when she saw them together.

  Steeling herself, she forced herself to meet her father’s gaze. She barely recognized him. He’d aged fifteen years since she’d seen him last, the lines on his face cut deeper. Dark circles under his eyes made them appear sunken. His hair and beard were dull and in need of a cut.

  He rose shakily from his chair beside the large table. “You look like your mother did after I brought her home,” he choked.

  Did she really look as bad as a Raider’s slave?

  Like he’d never done before, he gathered Ilyenna in his arms. “I’m sorry for what they’ve done to you, child. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them. A father—a father should be able to protect his children.”

  She shook her head, her face buried in his shoulder. “You tried.”

  “But it wasn’t enough, was it?” He squeezed her and pulled her back. His shoulder was damp—her tears had come back and she hadn’t even noticed. “I want to know what they’ve done to you.”

  She shared a glance with Rone before dropping her gaze to the crushed grass that made up the tent floor. “No, you don’t.”

  “It can’t be worse than what I’ve imagined,” he replied dully.

  Ilyenna closed her eyes. “I can’t, Father. I can’t.”

  Rone rested his hand on Otec’s shoulder. “We’ll speak later.”

  Ilyenna glanced at Rone in surprise, silently begging him not to tell her father what they’d done. Rone fidgeted under her gaze.

  Her father patted her arm awkwardly. “You’re not a soldier. I shouldn’t ask you to act like one.”

  Though she doubted he’d meant his words to sting, they hurt all the same. Clearly, he assumed she was too weak. Well, maybe she was.

  “The other clanwomen?” he said.

  “They’re all alive.” It was the best answer Ilyenna could give. “The Shyle, Father. Why didn’t anyone come to the spring feast?”

  He wouldn’t look at her. “We’ve nothi
ng to trade and no one to spare.” He seemed to shrink in on himself. “For five generations our family has kept the Shyle safe. And during my watch, we fall into chaos and despair.”

  “Father, I—” she began.

  He waved her to silence “Words, Ilyenna—they hold no comfort.” He turned to Gen. “How many clan chiefs have arrived?”

  “We’re waiting for four more. Rumor is they’ll be here tomorrow or the day after.”

  Otec nodded. “Have you spoken with Rim of the Cardell?”

  Gen gestured for them to sit. Ilyenna settled herself next to her father. Before them was an enormous platter of cheese, early strawberries, and crackers. She couldn’t resist taking some. As she ate, she could hear the night’s festivities beginning. The air was already heavy with music, laughter, and the smell of beer.

  Gen took a sip of his foamy ale. “He listened, but it’s clear he won’t commit one way or the other without speaking with the other clan chiefs.”

  Otec rubbed his face tiredly, his scruff making a scratching noise against his callused palms. “First, the Tyrans will claim that Rone and I have no rights to sit with the Council.”

  Gen set his mug down and leaned forward. “The Council will reinstate you. The real worry is how to right Undon’s wrongs without bringing on retribution.”

  “Won’t they see their way to war?” Rone asked a little too eagerly.

  Gen shook his head. “The Council is full of old men—High Chief Burdin the oldest of us all. And old men don’t like war. They’ll try to avoid it at all costs.”

  Rone grumbled an unintelligible reply. Ilyenna suddenly realized she’d eaten every single one of the strawberries. Embarrassed, she clasped her hands to keep from eating everything else. “So what do you think they’ll do?”

  Her father sighed.

  Gen shrugged. “Try to right things without either side losing more face than they’re willing to give.”

  Ilyenna rubbed her eyes tiredly. “And what of the people dead by Tyran hands?”

  Gen and her father exchanged glances. “There will be an accounting.” Her father’s words hung heavy with promise.

  “What accounting? Nothing’s going to bring them back.” Her throat burned with tears. She took a sip of beer to clear them out.

  Ressa came to Ilyenna and gently tugged at her arm. “You men can work out your battle plans without us. Ilyenna and I are going to bed.”

  Ilyenna wanted to argue, to stay and figure this out, but she was so exhausted she could barely keep her head up. Was this what pregnancy was like? Ressa helped her to her feet and steered her toward the tent. People had been leading her around like a little child a lot lately. But right now, she didn’t have the energy to care.

  ***

  Ilyenna woke with a groan and sat up, her hand over her mouth. She swallowed several times, trying to decide whether she needed to run from the tent to empty her stomach. As a healer, she knew food should settle her nausea, though she couldn’t see how. She crawled to a basket by the door, opened the lid, and pulled out a piece of yesterday’s bread. She nibbled on the crust.

  Varris eased quietly in and smiled. “Glad to see you’re finally up.” She went to her sleeping pallet and started searching through her knapsack.

  “What’s the time?” Ilyenna asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

  Varris held a blanket up, shook her head, and rummaged around some more. “After midday.”

  Ilyenna started out of a stretch and rolled to her knees. Then she realized she was still in Varris’s best underdress. “Would you mind fetching the other dress you gave me? It was drying outside”

  Varris paused, another blanket in her hands. She glanced at Ilyenna before quickly looking away. “Keep that one for now.”

  “No, no,” Ilyenna said. “This is your best one.”

  Varris smiled gently. “I know, Ilyenna.” She hesitated. “The last of the clan chiefs is due today. They’re meeting about the Tyrans as soon as he arrives.”

  Ilyenna’s fate would be decided by nightfall. Suddenly, she couldn’t move, could hardly breathe.

  Varris set down a blanket and came to kneel behind Ilyenna. Deftly, she unbraided Ilyenna’s hair, shook it out, and set to rebraiding it tightly.

  “What if they send me back?” Ilyenna asked in horror.

  Varris’s quick fingers slowed. “I don’t think it’ll come to that.”

  “But what if it does?”

  Varris tied off the end of the braid with a sheepskin cord. “It won’t. That would start a war.”

  Her heart seizing onto that hope, Ilyenna gripped Varris’s hand. “You’re sure?”

  Glancing at the tent flap as if worried her mother might hear, Varris leaned in and whispered, “The clans are in an uproar over what Undon has done. And they’re furious the Shyle couldn’t come to the feast.” She nodded toward the blanket she’d been searching for. “The lack of Shyle blankets to trade for is an upsetting reminder.”

  Ilyenna really looked at the blanket in Varris’s hand. Shyle wool, no doubt woven by a Shyle woman. “You’re going to sell it?”

  Varris smiled shyly. “I’ve a dozen more at home. The price this one will fetch should more than buy the things you need. Then you won’t always feel beholden to others.”

  Ilyenna swallowed her tears. “Thank you,” she finally managed.

  Varris gathered up the blanket. “You’re welcome. Now, come eat with us. You’re still such a dreadfully skinny thing.”

  Ilyenna didn’t even think to protest. At least until she saw what looked like rocks floating in the stew pot. “What are those?”

  Varris glanced into the pot and smiled. “Clams. The Carden cook them in their shells and pull them out with their fingers. Mother traded for them this morning.”

  Ilyenna crinkled her nose. “I don’t think—”

  “Just eat,” Varris said with a laugh, then filled a bowl and handed it to Ilyenna.

  Ilyenna sniffed dubiously, but her stomach was roaring for food. Finally, she gave in. By the fifth bite, she’d decided the stew wasn’t too bad. Not nearly as good as mutton stew, but not bad. As she ate, she noted the Riesen had been busily trading. Sacks of rye, rye flour, and whiskey had been replaced with barrels of salt cod, wheat flour, beer, crates of linen, and numerous other supplies.

  As she was studying the wagons, Rone came to sit beside her. He didn’t speak. Watching him as she pried a clam free of its shell, she noticed his tense movements, shallow breathing, and the moisture at his brow. “Are you ill?” she asked.

  He barked a harsh, humorless laugh. “I—” he paused “—I always get this way before a battle.”

  Ilyenna tossed the last shell onto a large pile by the pot, no doubt being collected to scrape the hair off hides. “Battle? You mean the meeting with the Council?”

  He really looked at her, and for a moment, he was the old Rone, the carefree, gentle boy she’d always loved. “Yes. I mean the Council.” He took her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Come with me.”

  Ressa would be angry if she knew Ilyenna was leaving the safety of the camp, but she didn’t care. Rone had her hand in his. For the first time in days, he wanted to be with her. She wanted to savor this moment, draw it into herself and keep it safe in her memory. Breathless, she allowed him to lead her through the clustered camps, away from the people.

  He took her down a path similar to the one she’d traveled yesterday. Roses as tall as she lined the trail, their branches sagging with the weight of the blooms. Their strong scent made her dizzy. Rone paused at the side of a ragged boulder, stuck his foot into a chink in the rock, and hauled himself up. One more step and he reached the top, then lay down and reached for her. “Come up. I’ll help you.”

  Hiking up her dress rather indecently, she managed to find the first foothold. From there, Rone took her hand and heaved her up beside him as easily as if she were a child.

  Ilyenna glanced down at the other side of the boulder. The forest of roses
was kept back by a flat expanse of rock. Dozens of fairies with rose-petal wings circled the flowers, coaxing the buds open and filling the air with their heavy scent. The aroma overcame the smells of the village—smoke and fish—yet there was still the taste of salt in the air.

  Without pausing, Rone dropped down and looked up at her. “Jump down. I’ll catch you.”

  For the first time, Ilyenna wondered as to his reasons for bringing her here. She looked back to the village with its cluster of tents spilling from the wall’s entrance. She could still go back.

  “Ilyenna?”

  She sighed. She couldn’t deny him, any more than she could deny herself water. She dropped into his arms. He held her aloft before gently sliding her down his chest to the ground.

  Her heart raced, her senses suddenly full of only him. “How did you find this place?” she asked breathlessly.

  He grinned his boyish, mischievous grin. “Last night, during the feasting, I happened to be walking back from the ocean when I saw a couple climb this rock and disappear. I checked it out this morning.”

  At the thought, old hurts rose within her. “A couple? So why bring me here?”

  Rone released her and stepped back, but the roses walled them in like a fortress. He only had room to take two steps before they brushed against his back. “I wanted to speak with you.”

  Ilyenna raised an eyebrow. “And you couldn’t have done that at camp?”

  He looked away. “Not without the risk of someone overhearing us.” He seemed to be battling with himself. “I need to make things right between us. In case . . . well, in case things turn out badly.”

  She turned from him, her fingers tracing the footholds she now saw someone had chiseled into the sides of the boulder. She wondered how many Cardens had used this spot for their trysts. “You mean in case we’re not released as tiams?” Rone didn’t answer. She turned around, her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m not sure we can make it right.”