Dragonoak: Gall and Wormwood, page 18
“Would that I were able to sprint, for the pane's sake.”
We ate in unsettled silence. With every bite I took, I found something else to add to the list of the things we needed to fix. Felheim and Agados. The shattered remains of Kastelir, and the subjugation of the pane. An entire continent's worth of problems, all of which could be traced back to the war, if there ever had been a war.
It was on Kondo-Kana's head, no matter what the truth was. The destruction that bled from her sent the Myrosi people south, and caused Agados to put up their walls and swear to never change. It saw the pane pushed out of their own land, up high into the mountains, and caused war upon war to turn the territories into Kastelir, while Felheim chose its own definition of defence.
I began to realise that it didn't matter how poorly the necromancers had been treated in Myros, or whatever justifications Kondo-Kana had. In the end, it had led to this, and she could not escape blame; she could not be solely responsible for it, either. I couldn't hold her accountable because hers was the only name history had remembered.
I wanted to speak with her more than ever. I wanted to know what happened.
And more than I needed to hear her explain herself, I missed her. I didn't know how to reconcile that feeling with what I'd seen in the Bloodless Lands.
I wasn't torn over it for long. The door flew open, jolting us all from our thoughts.
One of the Mansels stood in the doorway, managing to look less brazen without her sister.
“You might try knocking,” Claire said curtly.
“If you were getting up to anything you didn't want me seeing, it would've been locked,” she said. It wasn't the way I pictured a Knight speaking to a Princess. “Anyway, got someone here. Blagged her way into the country by claiming to know Princess Claire.”
“Who is it, Emma?” Claire asked, having no difficulty distinguishing between the two of them.
“She says her name's Ash Endalle. Rings a few bells, actually.”
“Ash!” I said, shooting to my feet. If she was here, there was a way out of Orinhal. If there was a way out, there was a way in. And that was the worst case scenario; perhaps she'd rode ahead to let us know that Orinhal had been reclaimed in the name of the resistance, and that Atthis was dragging Rylan along with him.
After everything, it was oddly reassuring to know that I could still get my hopes up.
“Take us to her,” Claire said.
Kouris had her cane ready for her.
Emma, under orders from the Queen, wasn't in any mood to argue. She led us down the stairs and along a corridor, past half a dozen people vying for Claire's attention, and at some point, Kouris slipped away. By the time we reached the chamber Emma had been heading for, Kouris was back with Kidira and Akela in tow.
“We are hearing news from Orinhal?” Akela asked, eyes darting from one guard to the next. Assessing the situation and, as ever, considering herself to have the upper hand.
“So Sir Mansel claims,” Claire said, taking a second to compose herself as the doors were opened.
The guests had been escorted to a room that wasn't unlike the Cardinal Hall had been in Isin's castle. The day I'd stepped into that room with its intricately carved map of a table was the day I'd learnt the truth about the dragons; years later, that knowledge had brought me to the heart of it all, and my whole body tensed at the thought of this winding to any sort of conclusion.
We'd been spinning for so long, caught in a wave of disarray, but now we were exactly where we needed to be.
And so were Goblin and Ash.
The pair of them were exhausted, covered in dirt and grime accumulated on the long journey to Felheim, and if their clothing had ever been anything but a dull brown, it was impossible to tell. Their hair was askew, smiles knocked out of place, but at the sight of us, both of them stood a little taller.
“M-Marshal,” Ash said, freezing, but didn’t forget herself for long. She snapped a salute, a spark of something in her eyes burning through the exhaustion, and Claire held her gaze.
“That's Princess,” Queen Aren corrected. The other Sir Mansel was at her side, and had seen to confiscating Ash and Goblin's weapons without the help of the guards hovering in the background. “And I take it these are no strangers to you, Claire?”
Claire shook her head. Neither Ash nor Goblin moved, pinned to the spot by the invisible but no means intangible chains of Queen Aren's authority, and Goblin could not stop looking at Kidira.
“This is my nephew,” Kidira said, waving him towards her. “Come.”
Goblin hesitated, but after taking his first step forward, he discovered that if Kidira would ever bow to another Queen, it would not be this one. He rushed over and Kidira greeted him with open arms, hands coming to rest gently on his shoulders.
“Aunt,” he said softly, eyes closing as he bowed his head. “I'm sorry. I—”
“Ah,” Queen Aren said, not caring what he had to say. Her eyes narrowed in pre-emptive victory as they fixed on Ash. “I recall where I know you from. You were sent on a mission with Sir Luxon, to retrieve the Princess.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Ash said, refusing to blink. “That was shortly before the dragon attack, Your Majesty.”
“Sir Luxon, one of the Kingdom's most talented fighters, slayer of dragons and champion of our people, did not return from that mission alive. Yet here you are, but a soldier, acquainted with the Princess in a way your orders did not dictate.”
There was no missing the accusation in the Queen's voice. She paced back and forth across the room and Ash followed with her eyes, trying to discern whether she was supposed to offer Queen Aren an explanation. Ash had been given her orders in a room like this one. She had been told to bring Princess Claire back, no matter what, and somewhere along the line, Luxon had twisted those orders and sent her to kill Claire.
Which was how she ended up swinging an axe at me and having Claire's sword pushed through her back and between her ribs. Strange to think that in spite of that, in spite of the way she had let Orinhal know what I was, I trusted her.
When she didn't answer, Akela held out her arms in a great, sweeping shrug and pulled the Queen's attention to her.
“It is because she is being lucky, yes? Luxon, he is almost killing Ightham, and Kouris and I, we are not liking this! Kouris, she is putting his own sword down his throat and I, I am taking my axe to his face and making sure no one is recognising him,” she said, and laughed loudly. “And Ash, she is not doing anything to be deserving this. Although I am hearing at some point, she is trying to kill Northwood? But I am thinking they are friends now. Ah! These last years, they are too complicated for me. I am not knowing why we are all being so tense. We are forgetting all of the past, as it is being in the past, where it is belonging, and we are all making up and working together, yes?”
Queen Aren didn’t miss the threat behind Akela's words. The Mansels sneered. Lifting her chin, Queen Aren chose not to engage with Akela, and as though Ash and Goblin had not come to us with news of Orinhal, she continued to interrogate Ash.
“Why did you not return to Felheim immediately?” Queen Aren asked. “Your orders were clear.”
“Because...” Ash began. She looked at Claire and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I no longer consider myself a citizen of Felheim, or a member of its army. I am here for the Ma—Princess, and the Princess alone. Your Majesty.”
The Mansels went from being disgusted by the description of a fellow Knight's death to being delighted by the prospect of what was about to happen to Ash, now that she'd dared to speak to the Queen in such a way. Their faces lit up while Queen Aren's darkened.
“Guards,” she said flatly, and pointed towards Ash.
Two of them stepped towards her, and Claire hit the base of her cane against the stone floor and said, “Enough. Ash and Galal came here to deliver news to us, not to discuss loyalties. And so long as she is in the castle, Ash is under my protection.”
Ash didn't move. Stepping over, I took hold of her tattered sleeve and pulled her towards our side of the room.
“Very well. I see my judgement was impaired in this case, but we have enough to bicker about already,” Queen Aren said. The sound of Ash exhaling filled the room. “Well? What news have you brought us?”
Goblin turned away from Kidira and Akela, and with Kidira's hand still on one shoulder, he found a way to speak. Weeks spent on the road with nothing but a message to deliver, and now that it was finally time, the words came out as though he was speaking a language that wasn't his own.
“Orinhal's gone,” he said. No wonder Ash would've rather stood up to Queen Aren than say those words. “Ash and I were scouting when Rylan took the city. We worked from the outside, trying to get people out, but... but Rylan left, and headed west. His soldiers lost control bit by bit, and there was a riot. People escaped, but they... had a dragon. The last of Rylan’s dragons, but that doesn’t mean a damn thing when—when…”
They'd burnt it all. I'd had every chance to fly back to Orinhal, to take on their dragon with one of my own making, but I hadn't. I'd let myself believe they'd be alright; that Atthis knew what he was doing, and would ensure our people were safe.
The room fell deathly quiet. Not even the Mansels' usual insufferable expressions screamed anything. Queen Aren cast her eyes down in respect, though her shoulders did not rise as though she considered any part of the blame hers to bear, and I moved to the table to press my hands flat to the surface.
Akela broke the silence.
“It is gone?” she asked. “All of it, it is burning to the ground?”
Ash nodded. When that wasn't enough for Akela, she looked to Goblin, and he did the same.
“They are burning Orinhal,” she repeated. “Rylan, he is burning my country to the ground, he is forcing me to abandon it, and then he is searching out those who are surviving, who are only trying to live, and he is letting his soldiers burn them, too.”
It didn't matter how plainly she stated it. It didn't make sense to me. Orinhal had survived for years, Orinhal had grown strong in spite of the Felheimish and their dragons and their alliances with Agados. Orinhal should've had nothing to worry about beyond a necromancer having passed through. Orinhal should've been able to worry about its future.
“Atthis...?” I heard myself ask.
Somebody had to.
No answer.
I tilted my head to catch Goblin's gaze, and he didn't have to shake his head. Atthis wouldn't have left the city, not when there were people within to defend. He would've believed he could fight this; the city was full of soldiers, not fire; it didn't have to turn out like Isin.
“It is truly regrettable,” Queen Aren said for the sake of saying something.
“Send a party of Orinhal,” Claire said, snapping back to herself. “See what there is to learn from the remains. Scout for any survivors.”
“From what your companions have said, it is but smouldering rubble.”
“Send a party,” Claire repeated. She did not shout, did not raise her voice, but Queen Aren listened.
“Very well,” she said.
And as if to twist the knife deeper, I caught Queen Aren's gaze and knew what she was thinking. Any remorse was painted on. To her, this was a victory. With the rebellion gone, she was left with all the resources, all the power. Claire no longer had the threat of an army with nothing to lose at her back. It was just her, alone in that room, and Queen Aren was not about to let go of the power she'd spent decades honing.
So long as the King was alive, Felheim was as much hers as Kastelir was now Rylan's.
CHAPTER X
Everyone sat in silence, with the exception of Ash. Weeks of travel didn't deter her. She paced back and forth across Claire's chamber, grumbling under her breath, as though by bearing the bad news, she was responsible for it.
“Shouldn't have left. Shouldn't have snuck out,” she said, clenching and unclenching her fists. “Should've been there with 'em.”
“Ash,” Claire said. It was the only thing she'd said in the last half an hour.
“Went back and there was nothing but smouldering rubble,” she continued to mumble. “If I'd stayed there, if I was with 'em—”
“You would've been killed,” Claire said. She was staring into the middle distance, seeing something entirely unlike the room around us. “You are a good soldier, but you could not have fought a dragon.”
Without taking in her words, Ash said, “Took me days to find any survivors. Didn't find Galal until, until...”
Taking a deep breath, she ran her fingers through her dirt-matted hair and screwed her eyes shut. For a moment, she was entirely still. She didn't move, didn't speak. She took time absorbing the fact that she'd reached her destination and delivered her message, and that it was alright for her to stop. That it was as safe as it was going to be.
Goblin had left with Kidira and Akela, and Ash didn't want to speak any more of what had happened to Orinhal. Desperate for some other words to reach her, she looked around, caught my eye, and let her shoulders fall slack.
“Sorry, Rowan. Seriously,” she said. “About what happened in Orinhal. Shouldn't have opened my big mouth like that.”
Getting to my feet, I stepped towards her and said, “Ash. It's fine. Honestly.”
And it was. It wasn't the time to hold grudges over an honest mistake. Not in the face of all we'd lost. I put my hands on Ash’s shoulders, met her gaze, and when I saw her eyes begin to shine with tears she'd refused to shed, I pulled her into a hug. There was no strength left to make any inch of her tense. She near enough collapsed against me, face buried in my shoulder as she clung to the back of my shirt.
Sen arrived shortly after, and the hugs started all over again. Claire hunched over in her chair, mouth pressed to her knitted fingers, and while my head was full of thoughts of Atthis, I wouldn't have been surprised if she knew every family in Orinhal by name. All of them were gone, and the few scattered survivors wouldn't have filled so much as a cabin.
Only Goblin and Ash had made it to Felheim, and Goblin was—
Gods. Goblin was alone. Ghost was nowhere to be seen.
I was sick with the past, the present. It was like Isin all over again, only this time, I hadn't been there to drag Ghost's corpse from beneath a pile of burning rubble. Closing my eyes, I thought back to the short weeks I'd spent in Orinhal. I remembered the old woman I'd brought carrots from, the boy I'd shared lunch with in the fields, and the woman who'd stopped me in the street and let me know that what was being done to me wasn't right.
They were gone. Less than cinders. All the while, we'd been in the castle. We'd been wasting time with politics, with Agados. With Halla.
All in the room felt it.
I said nothing, because there was nothing to say.
By morning, the castle was gripped by a palpable excitement at the expense of the Kastelirian rebels. Usually, it would've been all the nobles and servants alike could speak of, but with Princess Claire back in the castle, their tactless gossip could come full circle. That was the town she was stationed at, they said. That was the town she spent two long years in, though the Queen would've welcomed her back into the castle with open arms. What's more, the Queen had begged her to come home. She'd neglected her duty, plain and simple.
I overheard all of it, because although the nobles and courtiers had plenty to say about the farmer, the peasant, their Princess had taken into her bed, they didn't realise it was me. If they spared half a thought for me, they cast me as a servant, nameless and easily replaced, with no opinions of my own. They could say anything in front of me. If I repeated it, the words themselves would lose their meaning.
While waiting in a courtyard for Eden, so she could join us for breakfast, one man said, “I understand the importance of succession and respect as much, but you must admit that Queen Aren has done an admirable job these past years. With the King as he is, it's been no easy task, and it's a delicate situation.”
“Exactly,” his companion agreed. “We cannot simply expect someone to pick up where the Queen has left off. It wouldn't be fair on the Princess. And with what she has suffered...”
They looked at one another, nodding knowingly.
The man opened his mouth to say something more, but snapped it shut at Eden's timely arrival.
She smiled in greeting and almost managed to mean it. She offered me her arm and led me to the dining room. I didn't need the Mansels to remind me I hadn't been invited or expected by the Queen to know that my presence wasn't appreciated, but they pulled the most delighted of incredulous faces regardless.
“I thought we were to have breakfast alone,” Queen Aren said, hardly sparing a glance my way. “After the events of yesterday, I thought it might do us both good to speak in confidence.”
“If that were the case, you wouldn't have invited Eden,” Claire said, helping herself to a glass of orange juice. “Or, indeed, the Mansels.”
“The Mansels see and hear nothing but potential threats,” the Queen said, waving a dismissive hand. Turning from her breakfast, she beamed up at Eden and knowing the steps, Eden ducked down and let the Queen kiss her cheek. “Good morning, darling.”
“Good morning,” Eden said, taking a seat next to Claire.
I sat on the other side, where there pointedly wasn't any cutlery or so much as a placemat. Claire pushed her plate into the gap between us with one finger, passed me her fork, and proceeded to cut the omelette in two and eat it with her fingers.
“Claire,” her mother hissed. “I know last night was hard, but must you insist on showing me up?”
“In front of who? The Mansels hear and see only threats, and Eden has seen me in far worse a way,” Claire said, licking her fingers. “And Rowan is a pirate.”
Eden, deeply uncomfortable, bit the inside of her mouth to stop from laughing awkwardly and inappropriately. I gripped the fork like a sword, dug in into the omelette, and took a hearty mouthful of it. It was far from bad, but I didn't let that show on my face.
