Shadow's Voice

by Natalie Johanson

  “As you’ve had the time?”

  Rose repeated with growing horror. “Do you have any idea the mess they’re likely in? Just look at this . . .” Rose fluttered her fingers at the pile of pages and scraps of paper.

  “I’m a busy woman. Do you want the coin or not?” she challenged Rose.

  “I’ll . . . start right away.”

  Captain Sayla watched her and Rose stared right back. Finally, Captain Sayla took a breath. “The ball is approaching,” she said with no preamble.

  The captain tugged on the bottom edge of her tunic and cleared her throat. “These past few days the king, his advisors, and I have been discussing the assassination and what we know of it. Simone said the assassin will attempt something during the ball. She also has third hand information suggesting Lord Damian’s troops were scheduled to advance around the chaos following the king’s death at the ball.”

  Rose rolled her eyes. “He’s assuming a lot of things go as planned.”

  Captain Sayla sighed. “Yes. We are also assuming nothing has changed in the time since Simone’s capture and that her thirdhand information was accurate to begin with, but it is better than nothing.”

  Rose nodded.

  “The king would like you to attend the ball. You’d be dressed as a regular guest, not one of my officers, and—”

  “Spy. I’ll be there to spy on the assassin if he shows.” She held in a sigh.

  The captain nodded. “Well, yes, essentially. You’re the one who’s seen the assassin.”

  Rose set her tea down. “I never saw his face. I doubt I’d be able to spot him.”

  “You might recognize his magic. You might not find anything. You might use your . . . skills to help protect the king or discover more information. A great many lords and B’leakons will be in attendance.”

  Rose huffed. “I don’t have anything to wear to such an occasion and regardless of the coin I have made, I do not have enough to buy one.”

  Captain chewed her lip as she thought. “Well, I can fix that. The head seamstress owes me a favor. I’ll just need some time.”

  Rose nodded, if somewhat reluctantly. “I never saw his face,” she said again.

  “We know, but you might be able to. We need any advantage we can find.”

  Rose nodded and picked up the bitter tea again.

  “One other thing. Madame Rita tells me your arm and the burn are healed enough for you to return to near-normal activities.”

  Rose sipped the tea, wrinkled her nose, and set it back down. “Yes, I suppose. I still have a lot of pain from the burn, even though Madame Rita isn’t sure what’s causing it.”

  “Archie was hoping you’d begin lessons on a more regular basis. Now that you’re able to, I suggest you do.”

  Those “suggestions” sounded like orders. “All right.”

  Captain Sayla nodded and stood. “Very good.” She glanced at the cup of tea on the night stand and paused before speaking, “I don’t like it with honey, makes it taste—” she made a face. “I don’t like it with honey. When you brew it, add sticks of cinnamon. It helps with the bitterness.”

  Rose was about to snap at the captain for sneaking into her thoughts again, but she stopped herself. She tried to remind herself there was a time when she hadn’t been this defensive, when she’d welcomed easy conversation. “That really is disturbing; having someone answer something I haven’t spoken.”

  Captain sighed, and it was a heavy sigh. “I cannot help it, child. Even if I don’t make a conscious effort to hear thoughts, I still hear some. It is never completely quiet. There is always a . . .” she paused and fluttered her fingers in the air around her ear, “hum of sound.”

  Rose stared at the woman. “That must be very crowded.”

  Captain Sayla smiled; a small tilt of her lips. “It was when I was young. Nearly drove me to madness. Now it is merely life. Magic comes with a cost. There is a cost to use it. There is a cost simply to having it. That is my cost.”

  Rose glanced at her shadow cast on the floor.

  “What is yours?”

  She looked back up at the captain then back at the shadow. “I get headaches, and my eyes hurt. It makes me weak, if I use it for too long or travel too far. I’ve never tried taking another person with me. I wish I knew more.”

  “Was there no one to teach you anything? Have you not tried to explore your own magic?”

  Rose blinked at her. “Everything I know about my magic, everything I can do, I taught myself.” She took a deep breath and looked away. “And I am afraid of it. My father was not kind when he learned I had it. I tried so long to ignore it. And now it is changing so much, it is almost like it is new again.”

  “I learned how to manage my magic myself. I taught myself how to block out the sounds. I taught myself how to focus in on one thought. Everything I have, I have done myself. You are not the only one. And you are capable of more if you let yourself.”

  Rose opened her mouth but clapped it shut again.

  “I wasn’t hated for it, like you were. But I didn’t have anyone to learn from either. Try not to run from it. If your magic is changing and growing, embrace it.” Captain Sayla stood and headed for the door. “Try the tea with cinnamon.” Then she slipped outside.

  Rose sat stunned on her bed. Absently, Rose reached for her cup of tea out of habit only to abandon it again. She wasn’t sure what to think of the captain. When Rose first spoke with her, she instantly began to dislike her and her questions about her life, but now . . . maybe there was more to the captain than she thought.

  Rose reached for the ledger and tentatively open it. There was no organization to it at all. It was a disaster. Scraps of parchment with random numbers written on it were stuffed between the pages.

  Rose closed the ledger with a snap. “Oh, that woman is cruel.” She set the mess of a ledger on her bed. I’ll deal with that later. She left her room and headed down to the stables. She paused in the doors letting her eyes adjust to the dim. When she could see, Rose walked quickly to the back corner looking for Starlit.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?”

  Rose turned to the small stable boy. “I wanted to ride Starlit.”

  The small boy turned to the giant black horse and back to Rose. “No you don’t. That horse is a mean one. There’s a filly available. She’s trained as a Lady’s ride.”

  “No,” Rose walked over to Starlit who perked her ears up as she approached. “I like Starlit. Help me saddle her, please.”

  The small boy hesitated but then moved to the wall covered with saddles and tack. Rose was leading the giant black horse past the stable doors not long later, the boy still shaking his head at her.

  “Madame, may I bother you for a moment?”

  Rose jerked at the sound of the voice behind her. Starlit pulled on her tether and Rose had to put her full strength into holding her back. “Yes?”

  A tall B’leakon stepped away from the stable and towered over her. “I was hoping to borrow a horse for a ride. Do you know if any are available?” His words hissed when he spoke, and it send a shock down her spine.

  Rose stared at him, unable to look away from his wide golden eyes. The colors seemed to swirl, with hints of red. “Uh, yes, I suppose. The stable master should know. He’s inside.”

  He nodded graciously, more of a shallow bow than a nod. “Pardon my manners, I am D’ray. I am here on trade and to attend your king’s ball.”

  Rose shook herself and tore her eyes away from his and dipped in a small bow. “Rose Trewin.”

  D’ray nodded at her and headed toward the stable without saying anything else. Rose shook herself and pulled Starlit toward the pasture. Rose watched the trader disappear into the stables. She wanted to talk to him later. Maybe he could help identify the assassin. May
be he knew of a disgruntled or indignant member of his people.

  Starlit took all the slack out of the reins and practically dragged Rose to the fence. “Wait, you stubborn beast,” she laughed at the horse.

  She opened the gate to the pasture and had barely gotten herself in the saddle when Starlit was off. Rose yelped as Starlit pranced herself in circles around the pasture. Without warning, Starlit put all her strength into her run. Rose squealed as she was almost unseated. Her horse ran full out toward the far stone wall. Rose let the horse run. It was exciting, a little liberating, to race through the field for no reason. As she neared the wall Starlit slowed and then stopped, great big breaths puffing from her nose. Starlit shook out her mane and stood there, waiting for commands.

  “Feel better?” Rose asked her horse who twitched her ears and flicked her tail.

  Hoof beats coming from behind her had Rose turning her horse around.

  “Miss Trewin,” a familiar voice called. “Rose? Are you all right?”

  “Sire? I am fine.”

  King Micah rode over to her. “Are you sure? You looked out of control.”

  Rose panted while catching her breath and leaned forward to slap Starlit’s neck. “Oh, she wasn’t. Poor thing just needed to run out her frustration.”

  The king reached over and rubbed Starlit’s nose. “I was worried when I saw you. I thought you were going to be thrown.”

  “So did I; for a second or two.” Rose ran the reins through her hands. “What are you doing out here? Don’t you have . . .” she waved her hand in the air when words failed her. “. . . kingly things to be doing?”

  “Kingly things,” he laughed at her. “No, not for a time. I thought I would go for a short ride while I had the break between meetings. I’ve forgotten my love for riding.”

  “It is sad you’d forgotten.”

  “The trials of being king, I suppose.”

  Rose nodded and directed Starlit back toward the castle. The king fell in next to her. “How was your ride with Lady Daniella?”

  He glanced at her. “It was . . . not the kind of riding I enjoy.”

  Rose glanced at him and went back to watching the pasture. “Oh?”

  “She . . . .” He chose his words carefully. “The lady is quite an accomplished rider, but sidesaddle is so limiting. It leads to slow and boring paces and sometimes I wish to ride and not . . . amble.”

  Rose glanced at the king. “I never learned sidesaddle. I wouldn’t know.” She brushed lose hair behind her ear. Her shoulder cramped and Rose flexed her hand and rolled her shoulder. It still didn’t feel right, always too tight and knotted.

  The king noticed her rolling her shoulder. “I was told you were fully recovered. Is something still wrong?”

  “I am, but my shoulder continues to hurt and my arm cramps.”

  The king glanced at her. “Perhaps Madame Rita—”

  “Should not be told,” Rose interrupted him with a sharp glance. “I will not spend any more time in that blasted room.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Micah saluted. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  “Besides . . . Madame Rita doesn’t know why it isn’t back to normal anyway. As far as she and Daymon can tell, my shoulder should be fine.”

  “Perhaps it has something to do with the magic that caused the wound?”

  She glanced at him. “Yes. Perhaps.”

  Rose turned in her saddle and saw the two guards, riding at a discreet distance, following. “Do you ever tire of them? Always watching you, following you?”

  The king turned and glanced back at the guards. “When I was young. I couldn’t stand them. I was always trying to run away from them. Captain Sayla found me hiding in the old burned-out wing of the castle most times. That was well before she was captain.”

  “I don’t know if I could ever become used to it.”

  The king chuckled. “Eventually they become sort of your family, in a way.”

  “Do they have names?” Rose asked with a grin.

  “Yes,” he drawled.

  “Do you know any of them?” Rose challenged, with a smirk and laughter in her voice to take the sting out of her words.

  “Aaron,” he pointed to the dark-haired guard on the left, “the head of my guard. And Isaac,” he pointed to the other.

  Rose bristled. “Fine, so you know their names.”

  “Isaac is the only child in his family and Aaron has a young brother still at home.”

  “So, you know a little more than their names,” Rose conceded.

  He smirked at her. “A little.”

  Starlit skipped her hooves and pulled at the reins. Rose kept a firm grip on them. “Settle,” she chided the horse.

  The horse snorted a puff of air but settled and stopped pulling the reins.

  “She listens to you,” the king commented. “I’m surprised.”

  “I am no horse trainer, but I’ve been around enough to know that sometimes they just like someone. And sometimes they don’t. Maybe she likes me, and that’s why she’s willing to tolerate me.”

  King Micah chuckled. “Perhaps.” He watched her for a moment before speaking again, looking away as he did. “You should be her rider. While you’re here, that is. I’ll make sure Captain Sayla is aware the horse is now under your care. Tell the stable master.”

  Rose opened her mouth to protest, but she was too shocked to form words. “But—”

  “No, no. The horse is yours. Enjoy your ride, Miss Trewin,” King Micah spoke again before Rose could gather her thoughts. “I must return to my duties.”

  Rose nodded her head in stunned silence and the king rode past her. Starlit flicked her ears and bobbed her head. This time when she pulled the reins, Rose let her go.

  “Well, off you go then.” Rose nudged Starlit faster and she galloped off. She let her horse go where she pleased and Rose rocked in the saddle to her stride, still churning over what the king had said. She started directing her back to the stables.

  “Did you enjoy your ride, ma’am?” The small stable boy asked her as she dismounted.

  “I did. Thank you. Make sure there are fresh oats in her stall and brush her down.”

  The boy took the reins. “Are you taking over the ownership of this horse, ma’am?”

  “It appears so. The king said I was to be her rider.”

  The boy stared at her still, then glanced askance at the horse. “King Micah gave you the horse? This horse?”

  “Assigned,” she corrected sternly, “me this horse. Yes. While I am here.”

  The boy stared at her a moment longer before finally nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Rose tugged on her short coat and walked away. There were too many questions in his eyes. She shared many of them. Why would the king do that? Why would he interfere like that? She strode across the courtyard toward the castle, still shocked and confused. She was just reaching the doors when Sam ran up behind her.

  “Rose! Hold on.”

  She turned around and he puffed out a breath. There was another messenger with him, a tall lanky boy with sandy blond hair. “Sam?”

  “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “Sorry, I’ve been riding.”

  Sam raised an eyebrow. “A lot of rides with kingly men I see.”

  Rose blushed and she felt the heat run down her neck.

  Sam laughed. “It’s hard to miss the king and who he associates with.”

  Rose blushed more. “Do not read into anything, Sam. We went riding at the same time and spoke when we met up.”

  “Riding his horse; riding his favorite horse.,” Sam teased.

  Favorite?

  Rose took a deep breath. “You were looking for me?”

  “Yes.” He paused
and pointed to the tall young man. “Tim here is supposed to take you to see Meredith, she’s the head seamstress. I was helping him find you.”

  Rose turned to Tim. “Oh, all right.”

  He just nodded his head and started walking. Rose turned to Sam with a frown.

  Sam just shrugged. “He doesn’t talk much; or, at all really.” He patted her shoulder. “Have fun.” He strode back the way he came.

  Rose sighed and rushed after Tim who didn’t seem overly concerned if she followed or not. She looked down at her trousers, and hoped she didn’t smell too much like horse. Rose followed the messenger boy down to the lower levels of the castle and into a section she hadn’t visited before.

  She was looking at the tapestries hanging on the walls, not as grand as the ones in the main corridors, but still beautiful. It was busier in these halls, with people rushing and shouting. The women all wore brightly colored gowns, not the elaborate dresses the aristocrats wore, but fine and beautiful. Rose pulled her short coat tighter around herself and buttoned it, feeling inadequate in her work trousers and tunic.

  Tim rounded a corner pointed to the old doors to her left and retreated down the corridor.

  Rose squared her shoulders and opened the door. Rose jerked to a stop as soon as she was inside. How could anyone work in such a noise? She stood there watching women running around carrying bundles of cloth, shouting at each other every chance they got. Rose had no idea where she was supposed to be. There were hallways in front of her and to her left and right with doors lining the walls. Rose stood with her back to the door, dumbfounded.

  “Are you being serious?”

  Rose heard Captain Sayla, shout from somewhere to her right. Rose wandered down the hallway and a red-faced, wide-eyed woman rushed past her.

  “I do NOT owe you—”

  “How can you possibly think—”

  Rose heard more shouting from Mariah and a voice she couldn’t identify coming from an open door on her left. She stood hesitantly in the doorway to a room that appeared to be some sort of work space. A desk was wedged in the corner and work tables lined the walls, most with cloth draped over them. Easels stood scattered around the room with drawings and sketches of gowns in various states of completion.