“You’re more cunning than either of us knew,” Lore admitted, glancing over to M’Tek who was still pacing near the entrance to the tent, her hand clenching the hilt of her sword.
“I’m a Tannuk,” I said, concisely making my point.
“So you are,” Lore acknowledged with a nod, a wry grin spreading across her face. “Why do you test me so often, dear friend?”
“I’ve no wish to test you,” I replied. “Release Vilkerland. I’ll share the throne with your daughter, and eventually your granddaughter. It’s the only way to avoid another war.”
“And now you’re threatening me openly,” Lore observed.
“I’m not threatening you,” I argued. “I’m sparing you, Lore. Release the Vilkerlings. Forgive them for the injuries they’ve inflicted upon you. They’ve suffered long enough. Allow them to rebuild their country, and their society. It’s only fair after what they’ve done protecting both you and M’Tek.” I glanced over at M’Tek to see her attention focused on Lore. Clearly the two women were communicating. Lore was still for a moment, listening.
“Do you honestly believe those savages will follow Pet? She’s a Fae royal,” Lore said, a sneer forming on her lips as she turned to face M’Tek. “How many times did they try to kill me? They even killed my mother, a Vilken born Queen of their own blood, and my father a Vilken King. They’ll kill Pet, and Lia, and Astrid. Anyone who holds power over them is at risk.”
“They won’t harm us,” I replied, drawing her focus back to me. “They followed Lia and me into battle, protecting countries they believed were their enemies, risking, and in many cases losing, their lives under our command.”
“It means nothing,” Lore replied. “They fought as passionately for me once, and then turned on me. You once understood them. What happened?”
“No, Lore. It’s you who once understood the Vilken people and now don’t. You considered yourself Vilken when I met you. I was the bigot then. Over time I’ve learned to see them clearly, to understand their ways, and appreciate their culture, while you grew to hate them.”
“You’re right, Pet,” Lore said under her breath. “I do hate them. You can’t imagine how much.”
“Let them go, Lore,” I said firmly. “Forgive the past, and let them go.”
Lore turned to M’Tek for a moment, and my cousin stepped close to her. Neither spoke aloud, though clearly a great deal debate was passing between them. Lia’s grip of my hand tensed as she watched them, her hold too tight on the bones of my fingers. I shifted my focus from the two Queens to my beautiful Lia. She appeared anxious, her attention focused on Lore’s back. I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed the backs of her knuckles so she would relax. She turned to gaze at me, and slowly the tension eased from her expression.
“Pet,” she whispered. I raised a finger to my lips to silence her. “But what are they doing? Why aren’t they speaking?” she whispered. I shook my head. She raised an eyebrow before looking back at them with a puzzled sort of expression.
Lore took a deep breath and sighed, the tension falling from her back, her shoulders losing that sharpness. M’Tek stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Lore before kissing her forehead. “All right,” Lore said aloud. “You can have them, Pet,” she added, without turning around. Lore then stepped back from M’Tek and without looking at either Lia or me, moved around M’Tek and walked out of the tent.
“That’s it?” Lia asked in a tone of astonishment, staring after her mother. “She’s giving in that easily?”
M’Tek was staring at me, appraising me I thought. Her gaze shifted to Lia for a moment, and then moved back to me. “If you’re strong enough, cousin, you should go and help Lore burn the corpses,” M’Tek said.
“She’s still too weak,” Lia replied for me. “I’ll help Mamma.”
“No, Lia,” M’Tek argued. “Pet, Lia can go with you, if you like, but you need to be seen by your soldiers. Your wound appeared mortal. Already the Vilken soldiers are growing restless and surly as they worry over your health and whether you’re safe with Lore and me. If you’re to rule those people, you need to appear invulnerable.”
“What I wouldn’t do for a glass of torppa,” I said under my breath as I forced myself to my feet and started walking, haltingly, toward the tent opening. Lia was beside me in an instant.
“Only a glass?” M’Tek said, offering a wry smile as we reached her. “After winning a nation from the Noge Queen, without lifting a sword against her, I’d think at least a magnum would be wanted.” I laughed, and M’Tek squeezed my shoulder gently. Lia wrapped an arm across my back, helping me toward the tent opening.
“I’ll go alone, Lia,” I whispered. “I can’t be seen leaning on your arm.”
“You’ll walk with me, or you won’t go out there at all,” she said firmly. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. You nearly died, Pet,” she added more gently.
“You’re right, of course, Lia. Thank you,” I said, taking her arm and smiling to myself as I stepped out into the nightmare of carnage, and the smoky stench of burning flesh, beyond the tent.
-CH 23-
The return trip through the Wasteland Pass and northwestward into Vilkerland took us again past Marinella Manor. I noticed the torppine vines, overgrown and untended, were finally showing signs of weakness. I vowed to send workers down to the ruined estate to attempt to salvage what could be saved of the crop. Lia took an interest in the old manor house, suggesting that possibly it could be rebuilt. Sadly, the stones were already disappearing, as peasants came onto the estate to scavenge what they could. I anticipated that within a few years there would be little more than the foundation left of the old manor, as its remains were picked through.
Our journey home was too slow for my liking, taking a few weeks. We released our soldiers from duty along the way as they came within range of their homes. By the time we reached Lauderdam only a couple thousand soldiers remained with us. I sent them homeward when we reached our gates. Over the following weeks my coffers were drained as soldiers were paid for the last of their military services. The families of the fallen received generous bonuses, and letters of gratitude. Clearly it was not enough, but the Vilkerlings seemed remarkably gratified with my meager efforts.
Still, I felt troubled by the cost in Vilken blood that the war had demanded. I had several monoliths of pristine white marble cut from my quarry at Tannukyn, on the Sapphire Sea, in southern Faeland. These were to be brought through Vilkerland to Lauderdam and erected upright in a circle atop the highest foothill just beyond the walls of Lauderdam Village. Upon the outward facing side of the stones, I planned to commission the greatest Vilken stoneworkers to carve scenes of the battles where the largest numbers of Vilken soldiers had fallen. On the inward face of the monoliths, would be the names of every Vilkerling who died fighting the Head Takers. Luckily, I’d kept excellent recruitment records, so the names were easily available. I planned to hold a festival on the sight, open to all Vilkerlings, on the autumnal equinox. I would have nearly a year to plan the event.
Lore wanted nothing further to do with the Baneland Territory after the Vilken soldiers parted ways with what remained of the Noge and Fae armies. Within a few weeks of our return to Lauderdam, a courier from Lareem Palace arrived bearing official documentation, stamped and sealed, relinquishing the Noge Queen’s claim on the Baneland Territory, and ceding her power to me. Lore hadn’t the power to make me queen, after having dissolved the Vilken crown, so she deemed the Baneland territory a Grand Duchy under my sovereignty.
Lia’s name was conspicuous for its absence from the documents, a detail that surprised me. Despite my intention of sharing the governance of Baneland with Lia, Lore relinquished power to me, and me alone. I would have to take the Vilken throne and then crown Lia as my queen in order to rectify the situation. Still, Baneland was officially sovereign again. There was a very brief personal note attached to the documents in Lore’s hand. She sent her love, and warned me of the dangers of rulin
g the Vilken people, but wrote nothing else.
After carefully poring over the bundle and finding no more surprises beyond Lia’s missing name, my attention returned to my sketches for the monument. I sat behind my desk drawing, consumed with capturing the brutal images in my mind, until Lia came in, wearing her riding breeches and smelling faintly of horses. She sank down into a chair opposite my desk.
“Ania told me a Lareem courier arrived while I was out riding. What do my mothers want?” Lia asked, eyeing the substantial stack of papers on my desk.
“Lore has delivered the territory to me, as promised. We are now residing in the Duchy of Baneland, which exists under my sole sovereignty,” I said lifting the document and offering it to Lia. “Would you like to read through the papers?” I asked. She waved it away.
“I trust you’ve already studied that daunting stack of verbiage, scrutinizing every point of punctuation and word choice,” she said, raising an eyebrow at the stack. Obviously, she was teasing me. I tried to smile, but my heart wasn’t in it.
“I have,” I replied.
“Good,” she said, smiling sweetly. “I want no part of ruling this land. I prefer tending vines to governing people. Give me control of the vineyards and we’ll call it even.”
“Understood,” I said, placing the papers down on my desk again, as I sat back. I ran my hands across my face and then combed my fingers through my hair, wanting desperately to relax. “Did you enjoy your ride?” I asked, trying to lighten the conversation, and as a result, my mood. Lia’s gaze narrowed.
“I’d have enjoyed it more if you’d ridden with me, Pet,” she said quietly. “What were you working on when I came in? You were drawing.”
“I was working on the carvings for the Vilken monument,” I replied. Lia nodded.
“Well, those I need to see,” she said firmly. “Hand them over, Pet,” she demanded, reaching her hand out to me. So far I hadn’t shown my work to anyone. It felt too raw. I swallowed hard, wanting to refuse her. Instead, I selected the sketch I’d been focused on and handed it across the desk to her. She leaned forward to take it from me and then slumped back. Gradually, she sat forward in her chair as her eyes moved over that first image, as if she couldn’t look away. That crinkle formed between her eyebrows.
“The images are there, in my head, but I can’t capture the horror,” I whispered. “I try to show the violence and the brutality, but I’m only able to…”
“No, Pet. Trust me. You’ve captured it,” she interrupted, glancing up at me with concern in her eyes. “Give me the rest of them. I need to see,” she said evenly, stretching her hand out to me. Hesitantly, I lifted the stack of drawings. She took them from my hand and sat forward in her chair, slowly studying them one by one as I watched her. “Sometimes I forget how talented you are,” she observed before turning to the last one. “You must know, you can’t put these images on your monument, my love,” she said, gently, her eyes fixed on the drawing she held, the most graphic of the group.
“Maybe not that one, but it has to be honest, or else what is it all for?” I asked.
“What do you think it was for?” Lia asked, finally looking up at me. When I didn’t respond, but stared blankly at her, she continued. “Pet, we fought for our survival. If we hadn’t killed them first, they would have killed us. That’s all. There was no greater meaning behind it,” she said firmly.
“I was referring to the monument I’m building, not the war, Lia,” I corrected, reaching for the drawings still in her hand. Her grip of them tightened as she maintained her hold of them.
“Are you all right?” she asked me.
“Why are you asking me that?” I said too quickly.
Rather than relinquishing them to me, Lia placed the sketches on the edge of my desk and stood, again reaching a hand out to beckon me. I hesitated only a moment before I came around the desk to her. “Talk to me, please,” she said as she guided me down into the chair next to hers.
“We are talking,” I replied, feeling uncomfortable about the way she was watching me. “What, Lia?” I asked. “What is it you want me to say?”
“Tell me about those images, or the nightmares, or the pain I see in your beautiful eyes. You pick,” she said, her tone gentle. “You struggled in your sleep again last night. When I wrapped my arms around you, trying to comfort you, you fought me. What’s happening to you?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my gaze shifting to the topmost sketch on the corner of my desk, a warrior disemboweled, her intestines trailing out of her as her throat is being slit.
“Sometimes you seem so far away from me, even when you’re in my arms,” Lia noted.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I never want that.”
“You’re so preoccupied with this monument, with these sketches. Why are you so secretive about it? This is the first time you’ve allowed me to see what you’re drawing,” she observed. “Why are you shutting me out?”
My throat was tightening, and I couldn’t hold Lia’s gaze. She was watching me too closely. I stood from the chair to pace the room, finally walking over to the window behind my desk to look out at the trees, the dense woods. Images of limbs being severed, and sounds of agony, streamed through my head, as I reminded myself I was not on a battlefield, but in my own home. We were safely behind the thick walls of Lauderdam. I clenched my fists and shoved the images from my mind, but it was too late to keep a thin layer of sweat from covering me. My heart was already racing. I focused to breathe normally.
“Tell me what’s happening to you, Pet,” Lia whispered from close behind me. I wiped my hand across my face before turning around to find she had followed me to the window. She was obviously worried. I hated being the cause of such an anguished expression on her beautiful face.
“It’s nothing,” I lied, trying to force a smile.
“Can’t you trust me?” she asked, her voice soft, her gaze filled with concern. “I’ve always trusted you, Pet.”
Suddenly I felt hot, my throat closed making me grasp for breath, and my heart started racing. Even worse, my eyes were filling with tears, despite my greatest efforts. I started to turn away from her, not wanting her to see the weakness in me. She anticipated my movement, gripping my shoulders to keep me there. In the next moment her arms were wrapped around me. For what might have been moments or hours we stood in that way, me shaking and struggling to breathe, while Lia held me tightly, speaking soothing words in my ear.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I finally admitted next to her ear. “The war continues inside of my head.”
“It’s over,” Lia whispered. “We won.”
“I’m not so sure, Lia. Why am I still there? Why do I still smell death all around me? Why do I hear metal clashing against metal?” I asked. “Why do I see soldiers hacked apart every time I close my eyes at night, and often with my eyes open? Why do I feel so entirely helpless?”
“I can’t tell you why,” Lia admitted. I sighed and stepped back from her to watch her gentle grey eyes studying my face. She looked worried, upset even. I never wanted to be the cause of worry for Lia, so I forced a smile. “Stop that, Pet. Don’t do that,” Lia said firmly.
“Don’t do what?” I asked, trying to sound unconcerned. “I’m fine. There’s no need for you to worry about me, darling. It was only a moment of weakness. It’s passed already.” My words sounded false even to my own ears, and had the opposite effect to what I intended. That little crinkle between her eyebrows appeared as she scrutinized me.
“How long have you been struggling with this, Pet?” Lia whispered. I shook my head, refusing to tell her more that might upset her. “Please, just be honest with me. Before you sent me off to war without you, you said I was strong, that I could handle anything. I believed you, because you never lie to me. Why are you trying to protect me now, when all I want is to help you, to make you feel safe?” I pulled away from her and turned to look out the window again at those ancient trees. Lia stepped forward, ne
xt to me. “I know something about what you’re feeling,” she said evenly. “Sometimes violence leaves an imprint on us. Sometimes it holds on, and won’t let go.”
“But you’re all right, Lia,” I observed. “You’re not having nightmares about the war, are you?” I asked, afraid I’d been too wrapped up in my own unraveling mind to notice her suffering.
“My nightmares aren’t about war. They’re about rough hands, a hard and bitter tasting mouth, an uneven stone wall, and unbearable pain tearing through me,” she said gently. “I’m all right now, but there was a time when I was not,” she continued. “It was too horrible, too different from anything I’d ever imagined could happen to me. It didn’t fit within my reality. I felt helpless, and broken, and desperate.”
“Lia, you don’t have to…”
“No. Let me tell you,” she interrupted. “You need to know that I have felt something of what you’re feeling. My mind was trapped in an experience that was too horrific for comprehension, so I lived that experience over and over, as if somehow I could make sense of it through feeling it, again and again. For months I couldn’t let you make love to me. You, Pet, the gentlest person I’ve ever known, the person I love more than my own life. The affectionate touch of your delicate hands could return me to that wall and the feel of him inside of me. Don’t you see? I know that helplessness you describe.”
“What did you do? How did you make it stop?” I asked, watching her face as she stared out to the woods beyond the window.
“I came to you,” Lia whispered, glancing at me. “I trusted no one but you, not even myself. You were patient, listening when I needed to talk, and never shrinking away from the reality of what happened to me, no matter how ugly, or life altering. I know it wasn’t easy for you, hearing what he did to me, and not reacting, instead, making me feel loved and safe.”
A Fortunate Woman (Fortune's Favor Book 2) Page 39