Dragonoak: Gall and Wormwood, page 30
More questions rattled towards Claire. Everyone wanted to know the same thing, whether it was true, whether they had been betrayed by their own rulers, but they all wanted to ask it in their own way; they all felt entitled to have Claire answer for their pain.
She raised a hand. The crowd fell silent.
“Yes,” she said.
Someone gasped. Claire might lie to the common people, but in their minds, there was no way she would be anything but honest with them.
There was more shouting. More questions the people didn’t truly want to be answered.
“My brother was visiting a mill in the town of Archwood, when a dragon struck the settlement,” a woman called out. “My brother who often had the King’s ear. Are you saying it was orchestrated? That my brother was allowed to walk into a town that was to be razed?”
“Everything that was done and everything we lost as a consequence was deemed a necessary sacrifice,” Claire said, and all the hurt and disbelief that bloated Thule was turned towards her.
“That’s enough!” Kouris bellowed. People curled their lips at her. They hadn’t taken Claire’s words about coexisting to heart. “Your Queen has had one hell of a day. Reckon she’ll want to be resting up for a while. Once those scribes get the word out across Thule and the rest of Felheim, we’re all gonna have a lot to answer to. For now, let her enjoy her day. If I’m remembering correctly, there’s supposed to be a feast at this sort of event. At least, that’s how we used to do it.”
There was no feast to be had. Not one that Claire wanted any part of. Food was brought to us regardless, and Claire, not about to neglect her duty to Thule, gathered us in the highest tower, where bells had spent the last week sounding from. We could see everything from there. It was all so small from on high, which in turn gave the illusion of things somehow being easy to solve.
We sat in silence, trying to make out a single word or phrase from the dull roar below. I had done the people of Thule a disservice: their anger had not turned to violence after all. At least not on a wide enough scale for us to fear the castle might be torn down. I’d had years to process what they were going through, and they had every right to be hurt and angry, to stumble as they made sense of this.
Everyone watched from their own window. Akela, Kouris and Kidira stood on one side of the tower, while Goblin and Ash hovered uncertainly behind. Eden and Sen shared another window, and I stood by Claire’s side, unable to tell how close was too close.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said quietly.
The figures below were too small to discern from one another. I could only tell the clusters of citizens and soldiers apart when the sun caught on their armour.
“I did,” Claire said. “I do not deserve to be Queen if have to hold back such a truth to keep my throne. It would’ve come out, one way or another. These things always do. Rylan knows the way of things. Katja, as well. One of them would’ve twisted it to divide my forces. Queen Claire has known all along what was being done to you, and she did not even have the decency to let you know. She has abandoned Felheim once before; what makes you think she will not do so again? That sort of thing.”
Claire paused, drawn into deep contemplation over the title of Queen no longer being something she was striving for. It was no longer a potential way out of this all: it was what she had become.
Belatedly realising the crown was still atop her head, she removed it and twisted the intricately woven piece of metal between her fingers, holding it lightly between her palms.
“I am Queen,” she said, wanting to say it with her own voice. “I am Queen and I do not deserve to withhold the knowledge that some may take closure from, finally able to grieve properly, because it is more convenient that I continue to lie.”
I tried to catch her eye and offer a smile, but she couldn’t look away from Thule and the green, wooded land spreading out from it. I held out a hand, and catching it from the corner of her eye, she handed me the crown.
I felt like I should take it with shaking hands, that the thought alone of holding it should overwhelm me, but it was only a piece of metal. It was a symbol, and I understood that symbols had strength, insofar as to show the world that Claire was what I’d always believed she could be.
“You didn’t have to say that about necromancers,” I said, resting the crown on the rough, stone windowsill. I kept a finger hooked around it, aware that I’d make myself even less popular with the rest of the castle if I let the Queen’s crown tumble a million miles to the ground. “I don’t know how many of us there are. Not many. With all the places I’ve been, I’ve only met three, and I’d know if there’d been more. It’s going to hurt you more than it’ll help us. Me. Because it’s about me, and I…
“You should’ve focused on the pane. On the Kastelirians. There are so many of them, and I—”
“It does not matter if there is one necromancer or a hundred-thousand necromancers in my Kingdom,” Claire said, finally looking my way. “I will not overlook you, or them. I will not overlook a single person for the comfort of many. I am going to rule for a long time, Rowan, and I will be nothing but upfront with my intentions. It may take time, but the laws will change. And so will people’s minds.”
My mouth was dry. There was water set out along with the food that had been brought up to us, but I could’ve drained Lake Lir and my tongue still would’ve felt like the cracked plains of Canth.
I trusted her. Believed her. She could not make everything right in a single day, but I could learn patience. Time was the greatest resource a necromancer had on their side. Perhaps one day I’d wake up and not be terrified that everything I had was going to be taken from me.
“I guess all that talk about the dragons kind of distracted people from the necromancer part,” I said with a grim smile. “I’m not sure they’re even focused on that.”
It was a strange thing to laugh at, but it earnt a puff of breath from Claire.
Eventually, when it seemed that Thule would not be lost to riot and the inevitable flames that would be brought with it, we peeled ourselves away from the windows and sat down to eat. It was a slow, uncomfortable thing at first, as though we had all bitten off too much and could not remember how to chew. It wasn’t until Akela began to choke on a turkey leg and Kouris had to slap her back that the ice thawed between us, and I took the time to appreciate being surrounded by the people I loved and valued.
As well as Kidira.
We ate. We talked. Congratulations were passed around our group, and though Akela and Kouris did their best not to plot at the table, the pair of them rattled potential strategies and ways forward off each other. The occasional glower from Kidira wasn’t enough to deter them entirely.
Supposing it wasn’t every day I got to attend a coronation, I made a feast of the meal and ate until my stomach ached. Even Claire managed two entire plates of food, and did not once idly push scraps around and cut them into smaller and smaller pieces.
“Come with me,” Claire said, and made a question of it. There was a nervousness unbecoming of a Queen, and my mouth split into a soft smile. “There’s something I need to show you.”
“Okay,” I said, cautiously excited. Had the trip down not been so treacherous on her leg, I might’ve been brave enough to take her hand as though I’d never barked at her about leaving.
Sen had helped her up the tower, but Claire insisted on making her own way down. I took her cane so that she could hold the bannisters with both hands. Both of her feet moved to the stair below, and none were skipped over. She grit her teeth but didn’t let it sour her mood as badly as it could’ve. I syphoned the pain out of her and chewed on the inside of my cheek to stop myself asking what she had to show me.
She took me to her chambers. I stood in the centre of the room as though I’d never spent long, comfortable nights there, and glanced around, expecting every piece of furniture and artwork to have changed in my brief absence.
But it was as it had always been. Claire headed straight for her desk and placed her crown atop a pile of scattered papers. Taking a key from the pocket of her suit, she unlocked a drawer beneath the desk and retrieved a thick, leather folder from within.
“Here,” she said, holding it out to me. Taking the package, I pulled the chords keeping it closed free and opened the flap.
“Uh. Are these letters?” I asked, flicking through the pages that were sticking out.
“Indeed. But not for you. Do not worry.”
Claire didn’t elaborate. I bided my time by neatening the pages and wrapping them back up tightly.
After a moment spent avoiding my gaze, she clasped her hands behind her back and took a deep breath.
“I want you to go to Canth,” she said plainly.
“I—” I swallowed the lump in my throat, willing my heart to slow. She was kicking me out. She wanted me to leave. “But I don’t… I don’t want to go, I told you, I was just scared and I-I…”
“Rowan,” Claire said. Her voice was so tender that my fears drained away before my mind could catch up with events. She took the letters from me and covered my hands with her own. “I don’t want you to leave, and I’m not asking you to. All I want is for you to visit Canth.
“Kidira told me of your idea about a real alliance with Canth, and I believe it has merit. I would not, however, like to make such an offer via letter alone. You already have a rapport with Queen Nasrin. And not to mention with me. You are the perfect ambassador for Felheim.”
I didn’t know what to say. Had I still been holding the letters, I would’ve dug my nails into the leather binding. Instead, I wrapped my fingers around Claire’s hands and held on tightly.
“Of course, you would have plenty of time to speak with Kondo-Kana. To see your friends. Varn, Atalanta, Reis, Tizo, and… Tae, wasn’t it?”
She smiled at me hesitantly, worried she could’ve possibly done something wrong in suggesting this.
Canth. I could go back to Canth and I could come straight home to Claire. I didn’t have to choose between them. Rylan wouldn’t be upon us for months, and Oak could make short weeks out of the journey there and back. My heart was racing, only this time in a way that pushed up the corners of my mouth.
“I thought Kondo-Kana was a dangerous woman,” I asked, rocking on the balls of my feet.
Claire tilted her head to the side and sighed, conceding that it hadn’t been the wisest thing to say.
“I was a Knight. I put a sword through Ash’s back because she was going to hurt you. Kouris is the only pane to have ever taken up arms, raised an army, and slaughtered all those in her path. Akela’s axe has been at Kidira’s beck and call for years. I need not warn you against dangerous women.”
“And I brought a dragon back to life,” I said, as nonchalantly as I knew how.
Leaning forward, I buried my face in her shoulder. I grinned into the fabric of the suit most of Thule would forever remember her wearing, and she put a hand on the back of my head, idly playing with my hair as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
Her breath rushed shakily against my skin and I knew she’d been terrified this wasn’t the answer. That I’d want more and I’d want it far, far away from her. Squeezing her tightly, I eased myself back and cupped her face.
“I have something to ask you. When I get back,” I said slowly, and grinned to let her know it was something worth looking forward to. Her features twisted in curiosity, settling into soft anticipation as I pressed my forehead to hers. “It’s going to be different. Going back there.”
“It’s only been a few months,” she said, leaning into my touch.
“But you’re alive. I know that you’re here, and that you’ll be waiting for me. The last time I was in Canth, I thought—” I found myself blinking too many times. “I missed you. I thought I’d miss you forever, and that I’d never get to tell you that I loved you, and now… now I’ll only have to miss you for a few weeks.”
She kissed me as though we were already saying our goodbyes. I pressed a smile to her lips and understood what she couldn’t say. We’d both spent so long thinking each other dead, and yet there we were, in one another’s arms. Fire had divided us and an ocean had kept us apart, but I was kissing her on tiptoes while her fingertips danced on the back of my neck.
I tugged on the hem of her shirt and led her to the bed. Her suit was not the sort of thing she could sleep in, but I knew she wouldn’t be comfortable changing in front of me. Somehow, without speaking, we came to a compromise. I stayed so very close that I couldn’t have seen her scars if I’d wanted to.
I kept my forehead pressed to hers, kissing her as she changed, hands fluttering to help when her own fumbled on some stray hem. Shuffling towards the bed together, she retrieved the nightclothes that had been left in a neat pile on the edge of the bed by Sen. I only let her break the kiss to pull them over her head. I kicked off my own trousers and lost the shirt. I tugged her onto the bed, let her find some semblance of comfort, and nestled up against her.
Her jaw was tense, shoulders up by her ears. Reaching out a tentative hand, I said, “Can I?”
Claire hesitated. She pressed her tongue to her dry lips and settled on digging her forehead against my collarbone.
“You may.”
I didn’t need to touch her for it to work, but I knew there’d be comfort in my skin brushing against hers. I gently placed my hand just beneath her hip, where the incessant pain spread from the core of her wound. I brushed my fingers up and down, knee to hip, hip to knee, feeling all of her misshapen skin and the gnarled, twisted bone and muscle beneath it. The pain eked out and echoed in me, but Claire humming against my shoulder was enough to make me forget the sensation.
“Of late, I… I believe I ought to start using a wheelchair,” she said. “At times.”
“I think it’s a good idea,” I said, and had for a long time. I knew I couldn’t be the one to suggest it; it had crossed her mind over and over, despite her never speaking of it. She had to be the one to act on it, and to act freely.
“I will try it,” she said. “I will have no choice soon. I am better than I was, back in Isin. But of late…”
I’d taken all the pain I could from her and kept tracing impossible shapes across her skin.
“Thank you for listening to me. Even when I was shouting and jumping to worst-case scenarios,” I murmured. “I wanted to speak with Kondo-Kana, and you heard that. Even when I wasn’t making sense.”
“You always make sense to me,” she said, lifting her head to kiss the jaw of my line. “It simply takes me a moment to realise it, sometimes.”
“I’m glad you understand me,” I said, grinning down at her. “Your Majesty.”
“Do not,” she ordered, doing her utmost not to laugh.
“Or what? You’ll send me to the dungeons?”
“We don’t have dungeons. We have cellars, along with several disused armouries.”
“You don’t have dungeons? What kind of castle is this?”
“It is my castle,” Claire said, pressing her forehead to mine. “… Our castle.”
I bit the inside of my mouth hard enough to be instantly grateful I was a necromancer. I stared at her, unable to blink, to say anything, but oh, I didn’t want to leave. Not even for Canth, for the first home I’d had to call my own.
But I had to. I had to. It would be weeks, not years. I knew that we were perfectly capable of being apart but felt no need to prove it, and so grimly reminded myself that not even Claire could give me everything. There were questions she’d never be able to answer, and I had to do my part for Felheim. The alliance had been my idea and I had to forge something real from it.
The next morning, I awoke with Claire and a buzz of excitement. I was full of forward momentum, ready to throw myself at Canth’s blistering shore, but it wasn’t so simple as that. Plans had to be made. Arrangements were not yet underway.
Claire had done a lot of squinting at maps and jotting down of numbers, and had concluded it would take Oak a week to reach Canth in middling weather, providing his speed remained more or less consistent. I agreed that I wouldn’t like to spend all of that time on dragonback, and so a harness unlike any before was commissioned. After a quick conversation with Oak, once his excitement at the prospect of returning to Canth faded enough for him to be able to listen – he didn’t distinguish between places I’d been and where he’d been – he agreed to be strapped to a bow of a ship.
I thought the week would drag, but I had so much to attend to I barely found the time to sleep. There were regular bursts of disruption throughout the city, and though the number of guards patrolling the streets had increased, those altercations rarely resulted in violence. The people were angry, that was clear, but many were heartbroken and confused, too. It eventually simmered out into a blank, gaping despair we’d all had to contend with, at one time or another.
I went into the city with Goblin, thinking being out of the castle would do him good, and saw how things were changing – or being forced to change – little by little. Any signs that said Humans Only or Establishment Unfortunately Not Suited To Pane were begrudgingly taken down. I didn’t need Goblin to tell me what was written on the signs. People’s faces said enough. But there were those who welcomed change, and when word got out that we had pane from beyond the mountains residing in the castle, supplies were sent to them. It was all used blankets and battered books, but for many of the pane in the castle, it was the first time they’d had something to smile about.
Some of the city’s poorest wrote to Claire, saying they could make room in their houses for any who needed it, so long as the Queen could find a way to ensure there was enough work to go around. Acts of kindness like that made it easier to block out the voices of dissent, to ignore those who told Claire over and over that her honesty would be the end of her and Felheim alike.
With Rylan ever on the horizon, Akela put all of herself into her new role as Commander. Kouris and I helped her take stock of all our weaponry, shields, spears, swords, axes and all, assessed the state of our armoires, and visited the barracks around Thule. Goblin, while not much of a soldier, had the makings of a great strategist, and was assigned to the largest barrack on the outskirts of the city. Ash and Laus, joined at the hip of late, were stationed with him, and recruits were called from all over the Kingdom.
