The Great Pursuit

by Wendy Higgins

  When she slid back up and wiped her eyes, two faces were leaning over her, one quite furry. Aerity let out an automatic squeak and covered her chest. Wyneth laughed as Aerity caught her breath and smiled.

  “I should have known you’d take to Furball,” Aerity said. The cub seemed quite comfortable and happy with her cousin.

  “I can care for him if you’d like,” Wyneth said.

  Aerity felt relieved. “That would be a huge help. He was a spontaneous decision. A sort of parting gift from Paxton, but I’m not sure he’ll be well received.”

  “Don’t worry about that.”

  The creature suddenly wiggled to get down from her cousin’s arms. “Oh, no,” Aerity whispered. And sure enough, the moment he broke free, Furball bounded to the tub and pulled himself up the side. Aerity jumped to her feet inside the tub just as Furball dived over the side with a splash. The princess snatched her towel from Wyneth’s outstretched hand and climbed out, not at all interested in bathing with the beast. Wyneth was in a fit of laughter.

  They both watched Furball dunk himself over and over, pawing the water and making a grand mess on the floor. And naturally that would be the very moment when Caitrin appeared, a look of confusion on her face as she peered from Lady Wyneth to Princess Aerity to something splashing about and snarling in the tub.

  Caitrin let forth a scream and jumped back. “What the raging seas is that?”

  “He’s our . . . pet?” Wyneth said.

  “But . . . but . . .” Caitrin stared at its claws and face as it peered over the edge at them, blinking away drops of water.

  “We saved him from Rozaria,” Aerity explained.

  Wyneth grabbed a bar of soap and converged upon the creature in the tub, careful not to slip on the puddles of water as she set to cleaning him.

  Aerity looked at the sealed bottle in Caitrin’s hand. “You found red dye?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” Caitrin spared one last quizzical look at the beast before turning her full attention to Aerity. “It won’t be your natural color, but it will be beautiful, and eventually the darker red will fade into your natural color better than this brown has.” Caitrin touched a strand of her faded, mousy colored locks.

  Aerity nodded, shivering.

  “Come, Princess,” Caitrin said. “Sit before the fire while I dry your hair. I’ll have you ready to face the people in no time.”

  Aerity sat on a stool, thankful for the crackling fire, and let Caitrin work, drying her strands with a comb heated by the fire, and then applying the new dye. She was glad for the respite of the bath and laughter she’d been able to share with Wyn, but those good feelings were quickly replaced by dark wonderings. If Prince Vito and Rozaria were working together, that meant the prince was seeking Lashed rights throughout Eurona as well. Would the infirmaries be enough to show them she was attempting to change things in Lochlanach? Would it be enough to make them stop the daily killings, give them back her parents, and perhaps focus on another kingdom instead? She felt horrible at the thought, but they needed time to regroup and prepare, just in case it wasn’t enough to appease them.

  That evening after supper, Aerity gathered the entire castle staff into High Hall to inform them of all that was happening. She walked into the room with her chin lifted, her hair as vividly red as her mother’s had been, wearing her best sea-green gown. The staff gasped. Some of the women sighed and murmured, “Beautiful.” “Fit to be a queen!”

  She felt humbled by their appreciation, and it made her long for her mother. What would the actual queen think of her older daughter at that moment? She so wanted to make her parents proud.

  “Thank you for coming,” Aerity told the staff. “I want to thank you for all you’ve done. I know the past week has been especially difficult and frightening for you. To have enemies in your midst and then left without a ruler . . . I imagine some of you felt quite powerless.” A few nodded their heads and brought handkerchiefs to their eyes.

  “I apologize for not being here, but I learned much while I was away. I learned that the enemy is vaster than we first imagined. And I learned that it’s time to make a few compromises to allow for peace as long as possible.” Aerity told them all of the proclamation herself. And though the atmosphere became tense and fearful, nobody spoke out against the news.

  “And lastly,” Aerity said. “I don’t like the idea of you being unable to protect yourselves. I’m issuing a bow and arrows and a dagger to each of you who want them, along with personal lessons from our royal guard instructors on how to use them. Training begins tonight. Not one of you is too old or young to learn how to defend yourself.”

  Whispers of interest went up. People smiled at one another. Lord Alvi appeared at her side and squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll be happy to help train,” he said to the room in his booming voice.

  More murmurs, and quiet giggles from maidens in the back. Aerity gave a tight smile and turned, taking Lief by the hand in a united front, and giving him a side glance.

  He chuckled. “I’ll behave myself.”

  They left High Hall together and Aerity whispered, “Any news from your family?”

  “Nothing. But I sent a message by trade ship to my uncle today telling him what you learned of Kalor.”

  “Do they know of my parents?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I’ve been communicating with them all along.”

  “One-way messages is hardly communication,” Aerity said. The king of Ascomanni expected Lief to keep him updated on every detail of Lochlan news while sharing nothing in return.

  “The Ascomanni way is that no news is good news.”

  “Humph.” Torestans and Zorfinans had been open about their situations, so Aerity had been sure to send a message of her predicament and their next step, along with what she’d learned on her travels.

  Aerity was about to return to her chambers when Lief gently took her wrist.

  “About the beast you brought—”

  “It stays,” Aerity said. He pursed his handsome lips and dropped her arm. “That is my final word on the matter, Lief.”

  Before he could protest, she turned from him.

  Lief called out, “Highness.” She stopped and awaited his argument. To her surprise, he said, “You look stunning.”

  She held back a grin and disappeared into her chambers for the night.

  Chapter

  29

  Paxton woke edgier than he’d ever been in his life. He felt a veritable pull toward home, though he had learned nothing new over the past twenty-four hours. Yesterday he’d waited for Rozaria to come to him. He’d wanted to learn more, needed to know more, but the thought of what he might have to do to find out made his gut twist. It ended up not mattering, as he’d merely caught glimpses of her as she was dragged from meals to meetings with the prince. Paxton had no choice but to sup with the other lackeys and try not to draw attention to himself. At least the food was good.

  He sat on his pallet after breakfast, sharpening his arrowheads with a stone. Excited voices from the hall caused him to lift his head. A few men hooted in gladness and then rushed into the room, grabbing their belongings. Were they leaving? Paxton’s heart banged, and he began gathering his own things. He strapped his daggers across his chest and threw a tunic over his head, followed by his bow and quiver. Then he grabbed his pack and followed the other men out.

  When they got to the palace entrance it was pandemonium. It seemed the entire staff was running about, carrying things, shouting excited orders, shouldering their way past Rozaria’s men and the Lashed army. It seemed chaos to Paxton, yet nobody was angry. A hand grabbed his from behind and he turned to see Rozaria’s beaming face.

  “It’s time,” she said over the din. Paxton’s muscles clenched.

  “To take over Lochlanach?” he asked. The words felt foreign and wrong.

  Rozaria smiled. “Yes. The army is preparing to march. Prince Vito’s carriage is ready. It is time.”

  Her voice, her eyes, were
maniacal with the thrill of impending war. All at once Paxton remembered exactly who he was dealing with, and the duplicity of his thoughts toward her made him ill. This woman, whose affections he’d taken with a grain of salt, yet still managed to build a sense of companionship within him, was willing to kill Lochlans, to kill Aerity and her family, if it would ensure that her vision of rightness came true. She squeezed his hand and he nodded, afraid to speak.

  Paxton felt powerless as he stared around at the thousands of people preparing to descend on his homeland. Lochlanach had no idea what it was about to face, and he had no way to warn it.

  In the chill of the morning, Aerity stood on the castle’s balcony amid a line of guards, leaning against the stone railing, watching as timid Lashed made their way into the west commons. With each person who entered, Aerity’s heart swelled. She’d wanted to be down there, greeting those who came, but Harrison and her guards had adamantly warned against it.

  The guards had been told to usher all Lashed to the long table, and ailing Unlashed to the rows of cots. So far there were eleven Lashed, all haggard in appearance, both men and women. No Unlashed had entered the west commons, though the royal lands and courtyards were beginning to fill with bystanders. She was glad she’d allowed the market and street vendors to open so the people would have food and be able to do some much needed trading, selling, and buying.

  People were bundled in cloaks, fingerless gloves, and scuffed boots. All were milling about having hushed conversations, watching as the Lashed were escorted into the west commons. Aerity’s stomach was wound tightly. Come on, people, let them help you, she silently pleaded.

  In no time at all, the area outside the commons was bursting with people, watching and waiting expectantly. Nervous energy filled the air. Guards and soldiers were everywhere, but they were outnumbered. Harrison and Lief were down there somewhere, trying to help keep the peace. If a revolt were to break out now . . . The princess shuddered at the thought.

  “Shall I fetch you a warmer robe, Your Highness?” asked her nearest guard.

  “No, thank you,” she whispered.

  An hour passed.

  Two hours. The grassy knoll and street outside of the west commons were filled to bursting. Twenty-two Lashed sat waiting by a fire in the west commons. Not a single citizen had approached to be healed. The volume seemed to rise. A scuffle broke out along the cobblestoned pathway where a cart was trying to get through the crowd, but it was quickly subdued by ready guards. Aerity’s heart was in her throat. Too much time had passed. Something had to be done. This was a disaster and had the potential to get so much worse.

  “I’m going to address them,” she told the guards.

  “Are you certain?” one asked. She knew it was foolish to speak unplanned, but this camp had been her idea, and she would do whatever she could to make it work. She prayed to the seas for the right words and then nodded and stepped to the edge, gripping the barrier.

  “Good people of Lochlanach!” Her voice quavered. It took a minute of shushing and pointing within the crowd before everyone settled and stared up at her. Aerity had never been more nervous. She inhaled a cleansing breath and let it out slowly. Then she allowed her voice to reverberate through the heavy winter air.

  “We have all been told a great untruth!” All was quiet as she paused, pushing herself to keep going. “You, and I, have been led to believe that Lashed and Unlashed can live apart.” A symphony of tense murmurs rose and Aerity shouted over them. “It is my belief . . . from what I have seen and learned . . . that Lashed were created to heal others, and Unlashed are meant to allow this healing and to protect the Lashed. We were created for a symbiotic relationship.” She brought her hands together in the air and twined her fingers.

  “We need one another to survive. If I did not believe that with all my heart, I would not have organized this gathering today. I bring us together, not to appease the enemy, but to help my people thrive.” Her small fists banged down on the balcony railing in emphasis.

  “Are there evil Lashed?” she yelled. “Aye, my good people. We know this to be true. We battle Lashed Ones this very day who choose to do harm to others. But I tell you, there are evil Unlashed as well. And all evildoers must be stopped and punished. It is time that we begin looking at one another as individuals rather than grouping one another into separate entities.” She fought for breath. “My parents have been taken. You all know that. It is time for this kingdom to come together, to join as one, if we are to have any chance at a future against our adversaries!

  “I have brought you here today so that we may begin to embrace the truth, together as a kingdom. Apart, we are helpless to fight any powers of evil that threaten our peace.” She pointed down at the waiting Lashed. “Brave men and women have come today, and they have come to help you. These Lashed are not our enemies—they are your own neighbors! They are your fellow Lochlans! I know there are those among you with ailments that human healers have not been able to cure. I know there are women out there”—at this Aerity’s eyes burned—“who have lost countless babes.

  “Why do you think the population in Eurona has dwindled over the past hundred years since magic was outlawed? Because it was never meant to be forbidden! Pregnancies need help. That is nature. And nature has provided a way. Let these good people help you!”

  The side of her fist absolutely stung from banging it against the stone. Her chest heaved with emotion. Sweat trickled down her back despite the cold. Aerity’s eyes scanned the unmoving, silent people. Many had dropped their eyes. They waited. And waited. It wasn’t working. She pressed her lips together, trying desperately not to cry.

  And then the crowd began to move. Oh, seas . . . were they leaving? But no. A young woman was being ushered to the front by a young man. Her husband, perhaps? From afar she seemed lethargic. She held her rounded stomach. They approached the west commons gates, and two guards swung them wide. The crowd shuffled to be able to see, and it was as if the entire royal lands held its breath.

  One of the Lashed women stood as they entered and hooked the pregnant woman’s other arm over her shoulder. She led her to a cot and immediately set to work. Aerity wished she could hear what they said to each other. She leaned heavily against the railing, not wanting to blink. The pregnant woman did not look far enough along to give birth, but she must have been having complications to come forward.

  The Lashed woman slid her hands onto the bare belly and the pregnant woman arched her back, giving a loud moan. Her husband held her hand against his cheek. The Lashed healer worked for several minutes. And then they watched as the woman began to sit up, the healer helping to gently lift her. A beautiful sound broke the air at that moment—laughter from the couple.

  The pregnant woman placed a hand on her swollen stomach and laughed with joy. Whatever difficulty she’d been having with the pregnancy was obviously gone. Her husband said something and he laughed as well, taking her into his arms. And then the couple was crying. And Aerity quickly swiped hot tears from her own cheeks. The couple stood, smiling, and were led by a guard out of the west commons, back to the crowd, who converged with questions and wonderings. The Lashed healer clasped her hands under her chin.

  Another woman broke through the crowd, raising a hand high and crying out, “Heal mine! Please!”

  A man pushed his way forward carrying an older man. “My papa’s leg is broken!”

  One by one, people came forward. A line formed. Aerity sniffed hard. She refused to let any tears fall.

  “You’ve done it,” whispered the guard beside her.

  Aerity shook her head. “This is only a start.” There were plenty of skeptical faces still in that crowd. Plenty of onlookers just waiting for the wrong move from a Lashed One—waiting for a reason to strike, to prove Aerity’s beliefs wrong.

  But it was a definite start.

  Aerity felt a light hand on her shoulder and she turned to the royal healer, Mrs. Rathbrook, her eyes watery. The woman cupped Aerity’s froz
en cheek with her papery hand, nails lined from those she’d recently helped. “Blessings of the seas, Your Highness.”

  Aerity gathered the woman into a hug and held her tight. “Thank you, Mrs. Rathbrook. I want to make it right.”

  “You will, precious girl. You will.”

  “Come,” said Aerity, taking her hand. “Let’s get in from the cold.”

  Chapter

  30

  By the end of the day, when no rioting or rebellion had broken out, Aerity, Lief, Harrison, and four senior officers met in the king’s office to choose three villages throughout Lochlanach to implement supervised healing infirmaries: Dovedell, Craw Coorie, and Duke Gulfton’s southern town of Fetchko. She hoped word would quickly spread about the good that had been done that day.

  Thirty-seven people had come forward for healing. People cried and rejoiced. Lashed and Unlashed shared grateful hugs. Aerity felt as if she were floating all day with the rightness of it. If only her parents were there to see . . .

  They were just concluding business when a knock came and two guards entered with lined faces. Aerity’s lightness suddenly dropped.

  “What’s happened?” she asked.

  “Nay, Your Highness, nothing has happened, per se. . . .” They glanced at each other.

  Harrison stepped forward. “Then what is it?”

  “Well, it’s just that, you see, we heard rumor that a beast had been captured on your travels, and we just now saw Lady Wyneth struggling to take the thing out of doors . . . she had it by a rope but I’m not sure what good that will do. It very nearly outweighs her.” They shared another worried glance.

  “By the stars . . .” Lief shook his head.

  Aerity and Harrison looked at each other with pursed lips.

  “You needn’t worry, sirs,” Aerity said. “This beast is quite different, I assure you.”

  The men all furrowed their brows in skepticism except Harrison, who stared down at his hands and sighed. Lief looked ready to say something.