Shadow's Voice

by Natalie Johanson

  Peter finally looked up at her. “This is an old language. Older than Old Tongue. Used almost entirely by the mages of long past. The language of magic. A dead language now.”

  A shiver crept up her spine. “You can translate it?”

  Peter gently closed the book and pushed it toward her. Rose picked it up and hugged it to her chest again. “No, girl. And if I could, I would not. It is a dead language, and it should stay that way.” Peter scowled. “Mages have no place in our lives. Magic breeds death. Look at your Light Horse. Why do you think the gods cut them down so often, hmm?”

  Rose pursed her lips. “I need it translated. The king needs it translated. Do you know anyone who might know it?”

  Peter stared at her and clacked his teeth together. “The college. There is a professor.” He turned back to his parchment pile.

  Rose waited for more, but Peter ignored her. “Does this professor have a name?”

  He spoke without looking up, “Not one I remember. I’m busy.”

  Rose murmured a thank-you and retreated from the musty, dim room. Back in her room, Rose sat on her bed with the book on her legs. Now what to do with you? Rose started to put it back in her chest but paused. She pulled her small dagger from her boot and stood on her bed. Stretching, Rose was able to reach the slats that made up the low ceiling. Wedging her blade between the slats, she managed to pop one of the boards free. Rose stretched her hand into the opening into the ceiling and felt around. It was empty with just enough space to store her mystery book. Rose reached down and grabbed the book and slid it into the crevice. With a soft pop and creak, Rose pushed the board back into place.

  With a satisfied sigh, Rose dusted her hands on her trousers and sheathed her blade. “No one ever looks up,” she muttered to herself as she left her room.

  Chapter 35

  She was still sore from Archie’s forced run yesterday and Rose sat stiffly on a stack of hay watching her tall horse. Captain Sayla climbed up the hay and sat next to her.

  “Peter said the language of the book is the old mage language,” Rose said.

  Captain Sayla watched her a moment before turning to watch the horses. “I didn’t know the mages had a language.”

  “Neither did I. He said it was a dead language.” Rose shrugged. “He said it is the language of magic.”

  “I have a feeling he didn’t translate it.”

  “No, he’d rather it stay a dead language. He did tell me of a professor at the college who might know it.”

  Captain Sayla nodded and turned to watch Starlit. “It looks like we might just have to take a trip to the college.”

  Rose tried to calm her irritation. She was still angry about the letter the captain had sent to her professor friend. They should’ve told her. It concerned her. Hells, it was about her. “Can you imagine a time, before the Dark Times, when magic was tolerated? When it was normal? When there were schools for it. People wanted to learn how to work it? Can you imagine a place like that?”

  Captain Sayla sighed. “No. I can’t. It seems so impossible now. It must’ve been nice.”

  “We’ve lost so much,” Rose said softly.

  Rose tried to separate herself from her anger. Anger over all the things she didn’t know. Anger over not being told things that concerned her. Anger over not being able to have helped more. It didn’t matter. She was going to leave anyway, wasn’t she? She had no place here.

  The captain sat quietly beside her, no doubt hearing everything she was thinking. “I have noticed you are . . . close with the king. He relaxes around you.”

  Rose glanced over at her. “I wouldn’t say we are close.”

  She took a breath. “Either way, he opens up around you.”

  “There is,” Rose shrugged, “easy talking between us.”

  Captain Sayla let out a long breath. “He is very withdrawn lately and I cannot get him to open up to me, like he used to. I think he is worried he’ll disappoint me. Perhaps you can use that easy talking, hmm?”

  Rose looked away. “Everyone is entitled to their secrets. I’m not going to demand he talk to me, not going to probe him with questions. When he wants to talk, he will.”

  “What if he never does? We can’t have him . . . we need him to be strong now.”

  “He will.” Rose looked back at her. “He is a good king. He will stand up to this.”

  Captain looked at her with an odd look on her face. She opened her mouth to speak but seemed to change her mind and turned back to watching the horses instead. Rose watched her and waited.

  “You talk like you know him more than you possibly could in the time you’ve been here.”

  Rose resisted giving herself away. “I wouldn’t say so.”

  “A word of advice,” Captain Sayla spoke while watching the horses in their stalls. “Things can get complicated at court. People see things and think they mean something else. They talk about what they see even more. Be careful, Rose. Just be careful and remember in a world of aristocrats and politics, everything means something even if it doesn’t. Someone is always watching.”

  Rose sighed. The captain’s warning was appreciated but not necessary. She was a common girl with no money, land, title, or status. Anything said about her would be forgotten. Rose was just the newest thing, eventually the excitement would wear off or she’d leave.

  “No one cares about me, captain.” Rose stiffly climbed down from her perch and turned toward the quiet spot in the gardens, where even the captain didn’t venture. She tugged her long coat closed as she walked. The day would be nice and warm if it wasn’t for the wind. She huddled in her coat on the stone bench. The roses were gone. It was much too cold for any more blossoms, but this had become her spot to sit and think; her spot to hide.

  Rose wanted to stay. She wanted to stay with the Light Horse and the friends she could make here. But, to stay in one place? Years of always moving had made the idea of stopping so . . . hard. What if she stayed and her father heard about her? That was why she had always moved on. The less people know who you are the less chance it travels to others. If he found her all those years of running would be wasted. And what of the captain’s words?

  Rose rubbed her eyes and sighed. Everything was so confusing. This place was so confusing.

  “Has your day been as bad as mine?”

  Rose looked up at the king as he walked into the grotto.

  He sat next to her on the bench. “No just . . . I have a lot on my mind,” she muttered.

  Micah rubbed his hands together against the cold. “Good things, I hope.”

  Rose answered with a question. “Why has your day been so bad?”

  Micah crossed his ankles. “Do you ever wonder if you’re doing enough?”

  Rose turned to look at his profile. “All the time, but I’ll wager you have more to worry about than me.”

  Micah glanced at her before answering. “I worry I lack the expertise to weather an uprising.”

  Rose shivered against a breeze. “Isn’t that what advisors are for?”

  Micah looked down at his folded arms. Rose felt he wished to talk about things he couldn’t say, and she had better sense then to ask. Rose had learned early on if someone had something to say and you gave them silence, they would fill it with their words eventually. They always did.

  “They are my father’s advisors,” Micah finally spoke. “They are stuck in my father’s ways. Mariah tells me to appoint my own, but it is hard to know who to appoint. Who to trust.”

  “Captain Sayla seems to be one to trust. Why not appoint her? Or ask for her help?”

  Micah shook his head. “I do not want to look weak to her.”

  Rose snorted and kicked his foot with her own. “You call her your big sister. I do not think she’ll think any less of you for asking for help.
”

  Micah kicked her foot back and looked embarrassed. “I don’t want to disappoint her.”

  “She’s a very stern woman,” Rose said. “But not an unkind one, I think. I doubt she’ll be disappointed. She’s worried about you.”

  “She is?”

  Rose tilted her head and smiled a little. “She asked that I see what is bothering you. I told her to do so herself,” she admitted. “But I know the relief you can have when someone listens. I can see you’ve things on your mind. I can guess at a few of them.”

  “She sent you to check up on me?” he asked with a slight tilt of his lips.

  Rose snorted. “She tried. I came here to sit in what’s left of the gardens. You’re the one who joined me.”

  “Perhaps I enjoy your company.” He smiled tiredly at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps I have come to realize how much I’ve missed sitting here. Perhaps I know you are doing the same.”

  Rose smiled back and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Even so . . .”

  Micah chuckled softly. “You sound so much like my grandmother sometimes.”

  “As long as that’s a good thing.”

  “Yes, it is,” Micah fell quiet and stared off into the bushes. Rose watched him. He looked so tired.

  “How is the situation in the south with the bandits?”

  Micah shook himself and turned sad eyes to Rose. “Worse than we first thought. I’ve had to send another platoon down. This war tribe seems determined to extend their territory. If that’s what this is. I worry Lord Damian truly is behind it.”

  “Is he smart enough for that?”

  “Oh, yes. He is impulsive, arrogant, foolish, but he is a brilliant strategist. We were taught together, by the same tutor, for many years when we were younger. He was as arrogant then as he is now, but it was always clear how smart he was. Damian’s family has always had brilliant strategists.”

  “And he’s angry enough to risk a civil war? All for a crown?”

  “Damian carries the weight of an entire family’s anger and resentment. They have always believed they were the rightful family for the crown. All the way back in history to the first High King. Their family caused civil war then.”

  “Still,” Rose protested, “I don’t see why he would risk—why he would kill so many people. Why now?”

  Micah sighed. “When we were young, he would always rant about how his father’s greatest failure would be never challenging my father for the crown. He believes more than most that this is his right. He is smart, brilliant almost, in his planning, but I’ve never said he was wise.”

  Rose watched his profile.

  “He will kill anyone he thinks he needs to. I saw that in him when we were young.”

  Rose didn’t know what to say to that. He looked so sad and lost. He needed a rest from this. “When was the last time you left the castle?”

  Micah stared at her in confusion. “Well, I suppose . . . it has been quite a long time.”

  “Fancy a ride, then? Starlit would love the exercise.”

  Micah chuckled. “My guards would hate that; an unplanned trip outside the walls?”

  “Do not worry about the guards. You are our king. When was the last time you looked upon your people? You cannot spend your whole life behind these towering walls.”

  Micah stared at her long and hard, as if she’d said something important. Rose stared back. She reached over and grabbed his arm. “Come. You told me, once, to show you what you were missing outside your walls.”

  Micah let out a breath and cracked a real smile, one that lit up his eyes. “Yes, yes I did.” He shocked her by gripping her face between his hands and spoke with a fierceness she hadn’t heard in a long time. “You are a wonder, Rose. You must never leave.”

  He stood and Rose shakily followed. He was already walking out of the garden when he turned back to her. “At the stables in an hour.”

  Rose laughed and nodded but he was already gone. All right then.

  An hour later Rose was standing next to Starlit in front of the stables. She’d gone up to her room and grabbed her sword. She had stared at the sword as it lay against the wall and wished she was more comfortable with it, but strapped it to her belt all the same.

  Rose checked the straps on her sword’s saddle harness. The king came striding toward her in his riding gear, tall black riding boots and deep purple jacket. Rose glanced down at her simple trousers and plain boots, her borrowed Light Horse short coat. For some reason the contrast between their stations was even more apparent to her now. He smiled when he saw her and went over to his horse, already tacked and saddled for him. Rose looked around the yard and noticed the other horses being tacked and saddled, the growing number of people in the yard.

  Micah noticed her face as she watched the growing group of horses and people. “When word spread the king was going out riding,” he said apologetically, “others wish to join.”

  Rose was watching the group of nobles and guards assemble. Even with the extremely short notice there were easily a dozen others. “Right. Cooing for attention and all that,” she murmured. Rose saw the shining black hair of Lady Daniella streaking across the courtyard and cleared her throat.

  “What is wrong?”

  Rose turned to King Micah. “You have a visitor.”

  Micah cocked an eyebrow and looked back where Rose had been looking. “Ah,” he said when he saw the incoming noble.

  Lady Daniella walked over to them and Rose ducked behind Starlit. Rose stayed on the other side of the giant horse, out of the Lady’s sight, and listened in.

  “What has gotten into you, Sire?”

  “It has been a long time since I’ve left the castle. I wanted to get one more ride in before the weather turns too cold.”

  “But,” the Lady huffed, “why not plan a proper outing? Arrange for the servants and a meal, perhaps a hunt.”

  “I wished to actually ride, my Lady, not amble through the fields with idle chatter,” the king replied and Rose had to bite her lip to hold back a snicker.

  Rose heard the Lady huff. “I hope you have a pleasant ride, then.”

  “Oh, you’re not coming, Lady?”

  “No, no, I’ve tea with—and with such short warning . . . .” Lady Daniella let her sentence trail off.

  “Of course. Enjoy your day, Lady.”

  Rose rubbed Starlit’s neck waiting for her to leave.

  “You can stop hiding now.”

  Rose peeked under Starlit’s massive neck before ducking under to face the king. “I wasn’t hiding. I was listening.”

  He just cocked an eyebrow at her and swung up into his saddle. Rose let her breath out and did the same. Starlit’s ears flicked every which way at all the sounds and people milling around.

  “Come, let us go.” Micah flicked his reins and Rose followed.

  It took a few moments for the aristocrats milling about to realize the king was leaving without them, but soon they were all following. There wasn’t much talking as they descended the King’s Lead, the long weaving road out of the castle. It was narrow by design, with sharp corners, allowing three horses to ride abreast; the high walls cast long shadows on the beaten dirt path.

  By the time they reached open road at the end of the King’s Lead, Rose found herself toward the back of the pack. Noble men and woman hurried past her for a word with the king. The group turned south on the road toward the King’s Forrest, the protected, private lands.

  “I didn’t know the help was coming along.”

  Rose looked up as the noble man who spoke rode past her. She looked around and realized she was riding just ahead of the few servants that had come along. Well, this was not what I wanted to do. She shivered. Away from the cover of the walls the wind blew harder and wh
ipped hair across her face. The sun was starting its downward journey, casting bright oranges into the late afternoon sky. It was a good time for a ride, just not with all these people.

  Rose looked to her left and saw Aaron riding not far off from her.

  “Excuse me.” He looked over. “You’re Aaron, right? The king’s personal guard?”

  He nodded. “I am, ma’am.”

  “Then why aren’t you closer to him?”

  “There are other guards closer. I can better observe everything happening from a distance.”

  “Oh.” Rose turned away only to turn back to him. “Is it always like this, when the king goes out?”

  Aaron chuckled softly. “It is usually worse.”

  Rose sighed again. “Starlit, we should just ride off on our own, shouldn’t we?”

  Her horse snorted and clopped along. She watched the king up ahead talking with someone dressed nearly as nicely as him.

  The king turned and started looking around. He stood in his saddle and turned around, finally seeing her in the back. Rose raised her hand a little in a small wave only to drop it. She saw him frown then suddenly he wheeled his horse around. He circled the group, much to everyone’s shock and alarm, and came around next to Rose.

  “What are you doing back here?”

  Rose watched all the nobles, repressed the urge to give them a feral grin at the jealousy she saw on their faces. “It’s where I ended up.”

  He frowned at her and Rose just shrugged. The rest of the group of nobles had slowed their horses and now where falling behind them. Rose felt their stares on her back. The attention made her itch, made her want to turn and meet their stare.

  “So, will you tell me why you were hiding?”

  Rose brought her attention back to the king. “I wasn’t hiding,” she corrected him again. “I was listening.”

  Micah chuckled. “Listening? Or spying?”