Briarheart
Page 30
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BRIANNA FLEW AHEAD TO CONSULT WITH THE ABBESS. THE abbey was conveniently located outside the city walls, so we could go straight there, and since Papa had no idea that we were going there, we managed to avoid anyone sent to intercept us. I was hoping that he had no idea how fast the Trolls could travel and would be caught off guard by how quickly we got there, and it appeared that my hopes were going to be fulfilled.
The Abbess met us at the gate of the abbey with a smile on her face and wearing her best snow-white habit just as the sky started to lighten with false dawn. Brianna was with her and apparently had arranged everything with a minimum of difficulty. I had been dreading having to make another long explanation and convincing argument, but the Abbess had nothing for us but a greeting.
“Come in, my poor dear,” she said to me, looking up at me on the Troll King’s shoulder. “Everything is in readiness. Your Majesty, you can set her down; you are all safe in the sanctuary of the Infinite Light.” The Troll King examined her but seemed to like what he saw and carefully helped me down off his shoulder. “Come, now, all of you. The dawn will soon be here.”
The Trolls and I followed her to the chapel, a large but plainly built structure to the right of the abbey itself. When we got inside, we found that the pews had been cleared to one side to make room for the Trolls, and there was goat cheese and bread and water waiting for us.
I ate and dozed a little in a corner of the chapel on one of the pews and half listened to the Abbess and the Troll King talk while we waited for Papa. But before I fell asleep in spite of my efforts to stay awake, I got a welcome surprise.
Not long after dawn, my friends arrived, led by Sir Delacar! We all picked up a couple of pews and moved them as far from the Trolls and the entranced Abbess as we could to avoid disturbing her. Then we put our heads together for our own conversation.
They wanted to hear everything, of course, and marveled at the six Trolls sitting calmly in the middle of the chapel while they related their history to the fascinated Abbess. She’d had all the windows in the chapel covered, so we all sat in a quiet gloom that was strangely peaceful.
“How badly in trouble are we?” I asked when their curiosity was satisfied.
Sir Delacar shrugged. “I have no idea. Lady Brianna flew in with the baby, the entire palace was thrown into a turmoil, and Aurora’s other godmothers arrived and were closeted with the King and Queen while Brianna flew off again. Since I wasn’t wanted, I went back to the tunnel entrance—I still hadn’t told the King that you were gone. The dragon left the Companions out of sight of the palace, and they slipped back into the palace without being noticed amidst the fuss; Giles figured that I would be at the tunnel and came to get me. Serulan perched on Gerrold’s tower, and I suppose that people assumed that Brianna had got him to come. I got the Companions fed in the kitchen, and we waited at the training yard until Lady Brianna returned and told us where you would be.” He cast a glance at the enormous Trolls. “I am glad things turned out as they did. I would not like to see any of our men fighting those creatures.”
I would have said something about their being surprisingly peaceful, but that was when a ruckus outside heralded the arrival of the King. The Trolls started to stand, but the Abbess motioned them to sit. “You are under my protection now,” she said, showing a stern side I hadn’t seen before. “Wait here. If I bring in the King, then rise.”
She was gone for longer than I expected but less than I feared. And when she entered again, it was with Papa and only five guards—exactly as many as the Troll King had. The Trolls all rose to their feet. Papa and his men stopped and stared at them. I couldn’t see the knights’ faces under their helmets, but Papa’s was a stony mask as unreadable as the Troll King’s face.
“King Karlson of Tirendell, this is King Grun of Under-Tirendell.” But before the Abbess could say anything more, the Troll King went down on one knee and bowed his head to Papa.
“King Karlson, I have been very foolish. The King’s Daughter Miriam has told me exactly how foolish I have been. I did a terrible thing, a thing I would not have taken kindly had it been done to me. If you will forgive my people for actions that were only my own, you may order me into the light of the Daystar, where I will die and the Queen and my son will be bound by your wishes. Only let my people return to the mountain where my father’s father’s fathers once lived and live under Tirendell in peace with your people.”
Our jaws dropped. The Abbess was too clever to show her reaction, as was Papa, but I will swear to it that this was not what any of them had expected the Troll King to say and do.
And now Papa was faced with a dilemma. He could have his revenge if he was willing to throw over all his oaths as King and a knight, and destroy someone who had surrendered and was at his mercy.
I saw him waver for a moment, and I didn’t blame him one bit. But he would not have been the papa I loved if he had chosen revenge instead of honor.
“And perpetuate a cycle of madness that should have ended centuries ago?” he replied, a little hoarse with emotion. “I think not, Grun. Are you willing to swear to be my vassal, and take me as your liege and High King?”
“If this means you are to be my king as I am king over my people, then yes,” Grun replied sensibly. “And we will pay you tribute with the things we cannot eat, the metals and the teeth-breaking stones that the Dwarves love so much.”
I hadn’t expected that, either, and neither had Papa. He turned around and looked at his men. “Justyn, go back to the palace and tell the Queen that everything is well and that I am going to be here a while.” Then he turned to the Abbess. “If I may abuse your hospitality further, could we have a table, some chairs, and a scribe? We’re going to need a treaty, I think.”
The Abbess smiled like a satisfied cat. “Certainly, Your Majesty,” she purred. “I’d be delighted.” She glided away, not looking as if she was in a hurry but somehow moving very quickly indeed.
“You have a fine daughter, King,” the Troll King rumbled as Papa caught sight of the Companions and me standing at the side. “She is brave, and loyal, and kind. And she is more sensible than I am.”
“Than many people, it would seem,” Papa murmured, as if to himself although I heard him. “Miri, you and the Companions can go back and get some rest now, I think. Treaties take a long time to draw up, and Brianna and Domna will soon be here to advise me. Your mother needs to see you with her own eyes.”
“Yes, sir!” I said promptly and obediently. Truth to tell, I had been out of my depth after scolding the Troll King and I felt as if I was floundering now. I certainly didn’t think I could stay awake during a long and boring negotiation, much less be of any use whatsoever in it. I made the proper bow, the Companions and Sir Delacar did the same, and we got ourselves out of there.
At that point, things blurred a bit. I do remember getting back to the palace because we actually got cheered by the people waiting for our arrival. One of them was Mama, who was holding Aurora, and while she didn’t go all to pieces by crying and carrying on, there was some unroyal hugging and kissing going on, and her eyes glistened wetly. After that, I barely remember taking off my sword and tunic with help from Elle and Anna and nothing at all after that.
I didn’t even dream.
I came awake all at once, and a servant girl who had evidently been left in my room to wait for me to wake up jumped up off the stool she’d been sitting on and ran off. It was dark outside, but there was plenty of distant noise that let me know that most of the palace was still awake and active.
Elle and Anna came in as I was knuckling the sleep sand out of my eyes. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“A big feast to celebrate the treaty with the Trolls,” Elle replied promptly. “They agreed to swear to uphold the Fae Compact and to make an alliance with the Light Fae. If you want to come down, we were told to tell you that your place has been set, but if you’re too tired…”
“Are the Trolls th
ere?” I asked.
“Yes, and that’s why it’s being held out in the garden.” Anna giggled. “They’d never fit in the Great Hall. The cook is beside himself. He’s never had to serve rocks before.”
I smiled at that. I could imagine. “I should go down.” I paused a moment. “How is the King treating you?”
“As if he’d never been angry at us,” said Anna, sighing with relief. “We could have been in so much trouble.”
“He could have ordered all of you back to your parents’ estates and me to mine.” My relief was as great as hers. “We’d have effectively been banished. We might just have a lot to thank King Grun for. Although I am not sure he’d understand why I was thanking him.” I got out of bed, groaning a little at my sore muscles. I never wanted to go on a walk that long again. My feet still ached. “Let’s go. Help me pick out something to wear; I’m still a bit muddled, and I can’t think about gowns at all.”
In the end, they brought out my christening gown, which was probably a good choice given that this was what I’d been wearing when I first defended Aurora. It felt as if I were wearing good luck. They made my hair as tidy as it could be, splashed a little rose water on me, and judged me presentable.
When we got down to the garden, the first thing I noticed was that there were effectively two High Tables: the normal one, which had been carried out here, and a second one tall enough to serve the Trolls although they still had to sit on the ground rather than on benches or chairs. The second one was covered in some of the painted canvas banners we hung on the outside of the palace when there were tourneys. The effect was quite festive, especially in the light of torches. The table (without a doubt knocked up out of rough boards as quickly as possible) looked just as nice as the humans’ High Table thanks to its decorations.
The three of us came up the aisle between all the other tables that had been set out for the feast and made our bows to Papa and Mama. When I straightened up, I was overjoyed to see Mama looking as if the entire ordeal of the last few days had been nothing more than a nightmare.
But there wasn’t a place for me beside them.
“Miriam,” Papa said, before I could say anything. “We were hoping you’d join us. Since King Grun and his retinue cannot fit at our table, would you do us the honor of representing Tirendell at his?”
“I would love to,” I said warmly, and sure enough, there was a human-size space waiting next to Grun.
The arrangements were actually pretty comical. Some of the stairs used for the tournament galleries had been set up around the big table. It was the only way the servers could reach it, and there were bushel baskets of rocks arranged alongside it. Rather than bring me the selections of food one by one, my personal server arranged a plate with what he thought I’d like and brought it to me. I wished they’d do that all the time.
I noticed that the Trolls were looking a bit mournfully at the current selection of fruits, whole chickens, and bread before them. “What’s wrong?” I whispered to Grun.
“Too sweet,” he whispered back. “Too soft. Makes teeth ache.” I blinked for a moment, then realized exactly what was wrong. I caught the attention of my server and gave him orders. Three servers hurried to our table, took everything away but the rocks, and came back with what would otherwise have been an insult—burned bread and bread so old and hard that you could hammer nails with it, unripe fruit and chickens burned black on the outside, the ends of roasts that had gotten charred and anything hard, bitter, or sour. The Trolls tried these “delicacies” dubiously, then their faces lit up, and they stopped picking at their food and set into it with gusto.
Grun and I and the Troll on the other side of me had a lovely feast after that. When the dessert course came, the cook had finally managed to figure out how to make something for them; rocks in vinegar and soured milk with cherry stones. The Trolls were thrilled. I mostly listened while Grun told me more about his people in his slow, deliberate way. I wished that the others could have shared the table with us; it was like having an odd sort of bard with us.
In return, I told him about us. He was utterly horrified when I told him that I was fairly sure that the Dark Fae had assumed that Aurora would die under his care and that this was why the Dark Fae had tricked him into taking her.
“Or if that didn’t happen, he’d have probably cursed her himself so you would take the blame if we rescued her,” I said.
He nodded, and his voice took on a dark and dangerous quality when he replied. “That may be why we found him lurking about. Troll caves are mazes, though. He never came near her. The third time we found him, we made it clear that the next time he was found, he would be thrown out. And that we would not be careful about where we threw him. In less than a night, she had become very dear to us.”
I felt a cold chill for a moment when he said that. Another near miss.
But it was also a sign that the blessings of her Fae godmothers were keeping her safe. You shall give and receive love in equal measure and be beloved and loving for all the days of your life. And When all seems darkest, the Infinite Light shall always find thee, friends will appear unlooked for…
And that was when I realized why she was important to the Dark Fae.
She was only a baby and yet look what she had done! She had managed to bring peace between Trolls and the humans of Tirendell! Because of her, the Trolls had sworn to the Fae Compact! If her simply being here had brought all that about, what more could we expect when she became an adult?
Grun broke into my astonished thoughts with words that confirmed everything I had just realized. “I wish that it were possible for her to stay with us some of the time. I know that Kol will miss her laugh and her sweet face.”
“Well,” I said thoughtfully. “We’ve got a problem that I think we can solve. You cut that tunnel right into our kitchen cellars, and I’m not sure it would be safe to collapse it. But what if you got permission from the King to excavate out more space along it and put your embassy there? You’d be the guard on that tunnel for us. You and Kol could make state visits that way. And when she’s old enough to walk about on her own, Aurora can visit with you.”
I knew exactly what Melalee would think about that idea, but it wasn’t going to come from me, it would come from Grun by way of Papa. And I was pretty sure that Papa would agree to it. It looked as if King Grun, the three Fae godmothers, and the Abbess had brought him around to looking on the Trolls the way I did: like they were very odd overgrown Dwarves in a way—better, really. The one or two Dwarves I had met were very grumpy sorts and easily angered. Trolls were certainly not the baby-eaters we’d been brought up to think they were.
Great heavens, I wonder what sort of magic Aurora could work on Dwarves.
As I looked at the happy faces around me, I realized that this was the sort of christening feast Aurora should have had—not that she was old enough to notice or care, of course, but Papa and Mama certainly were.
That was when I proposed something else to Grun, and he stood up, held up his hogshead of spring water, and instantly commanded silence and attention.
“A toast,” he said, in a voice like distant thunder. “To the beautiful little King’s Daughter Aurora. Although it be through an avalanche of misfortune, she has brought us together, we love her as you do, and we will serve her until the mountains crumble to dust.”
Well, that was a toast everyone could raise a glass to, and Papa looked as if he couldn’t be happier.
When the food was cleared away, the entertainment began. It was only the household musicians and Papa’s jester, plus several of the courtiers who were decent amateurs, and not the procession of acrobats, dancers, and musicians that had been here for the christening, but it was nice. And at least half of the entertainment came from watching the Trolls, who had never seen anything like this. They laughed at all the jokes, even the ones that were probably from the “before times.” They listened attentively to and applauded all the music. They paid such rapturous attention to
the young man who had decided to try to flatter both Papa and me by writing an epic poem about the christening that I am sure he was convinced of his own genius right there on the spot.
Finally, people started to drift off, beginning with the oldest of the courtiers, who were feeling the effects of rich food and the late hour. I was expecting the Trolls to not understand, since this was their “daytime,” but when the Abbess stood up to take her leave, they all rose as well.
“We shall escort the good lady back to her abbey, where we will spend the day, High King,” King Grun said politely. “We will remain there until you are satisfied with all the things we must agree on together. I have an idea I wish to propose.” Grun glanced at me to let me know what that idea was. “But that can wait until tomorrow.”
Papa stood up and gave them a little regal nod. “Go in the peace you have helped to shape, King Grun. Rest well and we will meet when you send word.”
So there went the Trolls, determined to fend off trouble as they followed the highly amused Abbess—as if any trouble they might have encountered down there in the town would have lingered after one look at them!
Once they left, I quickly ran out of energy, and I could see that the rest of the Companions were feeling the same way. They began to drift off too, and when I caught Elle and Anna casting a meaningful glance at me, I decided that this was a good time to say good night.
But I was intercepted by a servant. “The King would like to see you in his chambers before you seek your bed, my lady.”
I closed my eyes for a moment. If this was going to be the confrontation I had hoped to avoid—well, there was no avoiding it. He was the King, and I wasn’t even a princess. “Very well,” I told the servant. “I will be there shortly.”
I collected Anna and Elle, and all three of us appropriated big bunches of grapes from the decorations before we left. I was in no hurry to get upstairs, and they were just as tired as I was, if not more so. The palace was still lit up, but not as much as it would have been if there had been a feast going on in the Great Hall. In fact, the Great Hall was dark except for the few night lanterns going.