Dragonoak: Gall and Wormwood, page 9
Claire shook her head. It couldn’t be as easy at that. She couldn’t come home and find that they needed her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. We were supposed to seize power at any cost, not accept the Queen’s outstretched hand.
“We have but one desire in common: to protect Felheim,” Claire said evenly. “Beyond that, our ambitions differ. You would sacrifice the territories to that end, and I know you would rather ally yourself with Rylan than do what is necessary to stop his rampage.”
“You are intent on seeing the worst in me,” Queen Aren said, and gestured for the Knights to advance on me. “Come back to my chambers. We will speak in private, and I will remind you that I am not some monster. I am your mother, not a villain in your story or an obstacle in your path. I have a castle, I have a country. Despite what Rylan has led you to believe, I have something of an army at my back. I am not only welcoming you home, but I am offering you all of this. Speak with me. Let go of your pride and understand that we can solve this situation far more quickly and peacefully together than either of us can apart.”
Claire looked at me. Neither of us had to say anything, but we shared the same thought: we had to try. Even if it was all smoke and mirrors, we had to take the chance that there was a smidgen of truth to it. Claire didn’t want to fight anymore.
“Rowan comes with me,” Claire negotiated.
“Claire. This is still my castle, and I have been doing this far longer than you have been alive. This is not up for debate,” Queen Aren said, but softened when Claire lifted her chin, about to challenge her. “I shall have the Mansels take her to your chamber, where she will be waiting for you. How is that?”
Again, Claire turned to me. I wanted to be by her side more than I needed to, and I was begrudgingly willing to admit that Queen Aren would not harm Claire. Beyond kinship, the situation in Felheim was as dire as whatever trouble Rylan had got into with the Agadians. Queen Aren needed Claire.
“I’ll wait for you,” I said. I looked between the Mansels to let them know I wasn’t afraid and said, “I’ll be fine.”
“If any harm comes to her,” Claire began, eyes on her mother, though she spoke to the twins, “All of this shall be for nothing.”
Queen Aren gave the Mansels a sharp look, and they both made a lazy sort of salute, shoulders slack, body slouched.
The Mansels stood either side of me and yanked my arms. It is a strange thing to know that you are the most powerful person in a room; in any room. Strength alone does not matter. It is intent that makes actions what they are, and I knew the Mansels’ intent would win over mine.
“You don’t have to drag me,” I said, letting them know I had a voice of my own.
“It’s a big castle,” one said. “Don’t want the Princess’ latest pet getting lost.”
I tried not to bristle.
“I’ve been in lots of castles,” I said, thinking that palaces should count, too.
“So,” the other began, “What’s the deal with the Princess, anyway?”
“She’s injured,” I said.
“No shit,” she said. “The hell are you supposed to be? Some kind of peasant?”
“I’m a farmer.”
Not a pirate. Not a necromancer. Let them think all I was could be summed up in a single word.
She snorted a laugh.
“A farmer. Oh, that’s rich. From Hawthorne to this,” she said, and slapped my back.
“What better is she gonna get, looking like that?” the other laughed. She’d dragged Laus along with us; Laus who was green in the face, and perhaps not cut out for anything more than standing watch along some corridor. Laus caught my eye in nervous camaraderie, and I thought they might feel guilty for having stared so blatantly at Claire before.
“You’re Knights?” I asked in an effort to steer the conversation away from Claire. “I’m Rowan. Rowan Northwood. What’re your names?”
The one half-heartedly shoving me towards a wide staircase rapped a fist against the dragon-bone lining her pauldrons.
“Think everyone who signs up to serve the crown gets decked out like this?” she asked. “I’m Emma Mansel. This is Amy.”
Amy grunted, apparently not keen on me knowing her by any other name than Sir.
We approached a chamber that had to be Claire’s. It was up a second shorter staircase, with wide steps and a well-polished bannister. I didn’t expect the pair of them to do much more than shove me through the doors and lock me in, and I knew I didn’t have much time. The Mansels were a gruff pair, cruel from a first glance, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be reasoned with, or that Claire wouldn’t want me to try.
“I know you’re loyal to Queen Aren, and I’m not asking you to change that,” I said as Emma nudged me up the stairs. “But do you know who you’re serving? Do you know what they’ve been doing to Felheim all this time?”
The Mansels stopped, glanced at each other, and in an exaggerated whisper, Amy asked, “Is this the part where the farmer reveals that our King and Queen have been using dragons to control Felheim all along?”
“You already know?” I asked. They stared blankly at me. “But you’re Knights.”
“Yeah, we are,” Amy said. “It gives us something to do, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t be very Knightly without dragons to slay.”
Emma barked a laugh.
“Nice try, but the Queen told us a good year ago, when it was clear Rylan had gone batshit,” she said, clasping my shoulder. “We’ve had it good. Most of Felheim, the part that matters, have had it good for centuries. Peace is peace, no matter how you get it, and we don’t want Kastelir and Rylan messing that up.”
I knocked her hand away, appalled. Laus gaped at me, not understanding what was being said but afraid they’d got the gist of it, and Emma didn’t take kindly to my lack of compliance.
“The Queen might’ve said to bring you here, but if you’re going to lash out at us…” she said, and grabbed my shoulders so tightly that each fingertip threatened to leave a bruise.
She shook me on the spot and I thought: Katja would never do this. Katja wouldn’t need to grab hold of me, wouldn’t need to tower over me, to frighten me. She would only have to be there and it would be done. I supposed I had her to thank for making me fearless. Long ago, I would’ve been unable to move. My throat would’ve tightened and my hands would’ve trembled, but now I bore it knowing the moment would pass; that I had been through worse; and I understood that what Katja had wanted to do had worked.
She’d made it so that I only had her to fear. In that moment, I wanted her by my side. I wanted her close. I wanted her to see the way Emma Mansel pulled me close and sneered in my face, and I wanted possessiveness to ripple through her.
But it was only for a moment. The feeling faded, leaving only nausea behind, along with a disgust I could never speak of to anyone else.
“Take me to Claire’s room, like the Queen told you to,” I said.
“Claire’s room,” Emma repeated mockingly, and shoved my shoulder.
I stumbled on the edge of the step, but caught onto the bannister before tumbling backwards. What was I doing? Why wasn’t I letting them push me around to get it over with, so that they’d leave me in the room? Why should I, I thought. I had regrown a hand. I had marched a man’s corpse to the blade that took his head. I didn’t have to let anyone push me around.
I opened my mouth to reply, and a rumbled roar filled the air.
All eyes turned to the foot of the stairs. Laus started and backed awkwardly into the bannister, having never seen a pane so ready to tear a person apart before.
CHAPTER V
Seeing Kouris at the foot of the stairs, ready to strike, was like having a headache that was suddenly cleft in two. The fog that made me think I could speak back to the Mansels cleared, and I was left with a dull stab of fear. I could see how things would go: they did not look good.
To Kouris, I was being pushed around by the enemy. I had been separated from Claire by force, and whatever had compelled her to charge into the castle would compel her to charge up the stairs, too. To the Mansels, there was a pane baring her fangs and pointing her claws at them, and their day had been strange enough already.
I moved in front of the Mansels.
They had no objections.
“Kouris! Kouris, wait!” I called. “It’s okay. It’s fine.”
“Doesn’t look fine,” she snarled. “Where’s Claire?”
She kept her eyes fixed on the Knights and the weapons they’d drawn, but because I was the one speaking, because I’d never be so calm if anything had happened to Claire, she stopped with her foot on the first step and waited for whatever explanation there was to give.
“She’s with her mother. With the Queen,” I said, and Kouris’ ears perked up. One of the Mansels took a step down, but I held up a hand without turning, needing a moment to make things clear. This didn’t have to end in a fight. “It’s not what we thought. The King and Queen aren’t working with Rylan. They agree that he’s gone too far, and they need Claire’s help. It might… we might be okay.”
Footsteps filled the corridor beyond. Kouris glanced off to the side, but her ears didn’t flatten defensively. She raised her brow as Akela, Kidira and Sen joined her. One of the Mansels swore, and Laus did their utmost not to faint.
“What is this?” Akela asked, arms held out to the side. “I am seeing Northwood, and I am seeing that she is making new friends who are not looking as friendly as I am liking, and Kouris, she is not rushing into a fight. The invasion, it is being cancelled? We are having a tea party instead?”
“Something like that,” Kouris said, shoulders slouching now that Akela was there to back her up. They may not have had weapons, but that wasn’t much of a disadvantage where the pair of them were concerned.
“Alright,” Emma said, deciding it was time that someone other than me took charge of the situation. “I’m going to give you lot thirty seconds to explain who you are, why the hell there are two pane together, and what’s going on here.”
“It’d better be good,” Amy added.
“I am Kidira Nyarko, former Queen of the former Kastelir. This is Kouris, of much the same title, and Akela Ayad, the former Commander of the aforementioned country’s army,” Kidira explained. “And this is our companion, Sen.”
The Mansels looked at one another, trying to determine whether or not it was a joke.
“H-hello,” Sen said, waving timidly.
“How did you get in? And why?” I asked.
The Mansels only let the question stand because it was along the same lines as their own demands.
“Haru-Taiki came rushing back to us, squawking like someone had lost their head,” Kouris explained. “We figured Eden wasn’t being as trustworthy as Claire was thinking, so we came running. As for how we got in, heh. Reckon Haru-Taiki’s having the time of his life out there. Even the guards forgot all about what they were supposed to be doing at the sight of a phoenix in the castle grounds.”
“There wasn’t a problem. Didn’t you get our letter?” I asked. Things were going better than we could’ve hoped for, and I didn’t want to risk all of that because of a misunderstanding. “Look, I’m meant to be waiting in Claire’s chambers for her. If we all go in there, we can figure this out and no one needs to fight. We’re not going to cause you any trouble. Please.”
The Mansels were more than content to keep their weapons drawn as I addressed them. They glanced at each other, aware that their usual rash nature wouldn’t serve them well here.
“… I’ve heard of Commander Ayad before,” Emma eventually muttered.
“Mm,” Amy agreed with a frown. Sheathing her sword, she jerked her head towards the chamber doors. “Alright. In there with you. But don’t go thinking you’re anything less than prisoners.”
Akela clapped her hands together.
“Excellent! Just what I am needing, to be sitting down.”
Claire’s chambers were more than twice the size of Eden’s, but the disuse they had seen over the past few years made them feel empty. Everything was draped in thick sheets lined with dust, and Akela and Kouris saw to freeing the furniture.
The Mansels barked at Laus and ordered them to make sure the other guards were at their posts. They scampered off with a yelp, caught my eye as they left, and I did my best to offer them a grateful smile. Kouris sat in one of the armchairs, impatient and tense, and Sen mirrored her. She fidgeted with her fingers and scraped her claws against her tusks. Kidira took a seat, giving the appearance of being utterly uninterested in the whole affair, while Akela sat next to her, positively gleeful.
I couldn’t sit. Not when I was in Claire’s chambers and there was so much for me to take in. The Mansels sat by the door and made a show of uncorking an ancient bottle of wine they’d liberated from one of the shelves, and poured themselves generous glasses of it. Good. Let them do Claire a favour in removing temptation. They followed me with their eyes as I wandered the length of the room, leaving no inch unseen.
There were large windows in an alcove in the centre of the room, forming an arch, with carved, polished wood for a frame. They stretched to the ceiling, but didn’t touch the floor; there was a window seat the size of most beds, swamped in cushions, with a small shelf on one side, covered in a scattering of books. The pulled back curtains were a soft blue, the same hue that Canth’s sky ever was, and the thick carpet was only a shade or two darker.
There were all the things I expected to see: bookcases, heavy oaken furniture, desks, tables, chairs and all, with wall-length mirrors and doors leading off to a bathroom, a bedroom, and a strange little room that served no purpose other than to house clothing. I glanced in and saw enough dresses and suits and finely tailored shirts to make me dizzy, each of them unique.
It was the art that claimed most of my attention, though. Paintings in frames of gold-stained wood covered the walls without crowding them. There was a portrait of Claire and Eden – something to do with their engagement, I expected – and they both appeared far younger than I was now. Eden wore a suit that fit her like a second skin, and Claire’s dress looked like something that could only exist in a painting. I wondered how long they’d had to stand for the artist to capture their likeness, and whether they’d come to resent the clothes they’d chosen, having to hold that pose for longer than I liked to think about.
There were portraits of Claire younger than that, portraits where her brothers stood with her and Rylan’s face was still round, his eyes clear and shiny. A painting of Calais made my heart clench, and there were depictions of landscapes I didn’t recognise and may not have been real.
I paced back and forth. I ran my fingers across the backs of chairs, the edges of mirrors. I found more wine, uncorked the bottles, and filled the Mansel’s glasses before tipping the rest out of the windows. No one said anything, but the pair of them found it so hilarious that they let me get rid of all that I could find. There were bottles hidden, I was certain of that, but the best I could do for Claire was to get rid of the most obvious temptations.
“Look at him,” I murmured, from where I knelt on the window seat. “It’s like he was born to act as a diversion.”
Claire’s chambers were built into a tower at the back of the castle, overlooking a lake, manor house, and the forest beyond. Haru-Taiki was circling the castle and had drawn people away from the marquees as though he was the real reason the festivities had been planned for months on end. Word had spread beyond the castle and the gates had been locked when too many people filtered in. People pressed against the bars, reaching through in the hope of catching a falling feather.
It was more than an hour before Claire was brought to her chambers. Sen only stopped fidgeting in the interim because Akela took hold of her wrist and squeezed it fondly. By that point, Kouris had joined me in pacing. The Mansels were well on their way to being drunk, but were not so inebriated as to forget about their weapons, or to remain seated when the doors were pushed to.
Claire had been accompanied – or rather, led – by her mother, and had expected to find me there. When she saw that we were all gathered in the room she had grown up in, she faltered. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the head of her cane, and I imagined the room as she had left it: hollowed out and made empty by the truths that had been revealed to her.
She had chosen to leave Thule behind, and to her, this was the heart of it. The centre of who she’d been. And she had returned years later not to find emptiness, but a room full of those who mattered most to her.
I rushed forward, relieved to see her safe. It didn’t matter whether I trusted Queen Aren or not. I had learnt to be cautious, and knew that things were almost never easy. Claire held her arms out in greeting, and I placed my hands on her cheeks and kissed her lightly.
She smiled. It was a twitch of an expression, and she clouded with a strange sort of confusion. I don’t think she’d expected to smile, once we returned to Thule.
“You have company,” Queen Aren said. “Are these your allies?”
“Indeed,” Claire said, only looking away from me to introduce those around us.
After having her daughter return from the dead, it was not much of a stretch for Queen Aren to believe Kidira, Kouris and Akela sat before her. She paid Sen as little heed as she did to me.
“Well,” she said, when hands had been shaken and heads nodded in firm respect. “We’ve got quite the mess to clean up.”
The news spread throughout Thule, and then the entire country: the Princess had returned to the castle, blazing phoenix in tow. Together, they had been forged in the heart of a fire and reborn from it. That was the official line. That’s what the bards sang, both to Claire's face and behind her back. There was a certain dignity in comparing the two of them, I supposed.
In everyone's minds, it heralded something great. No one was certain what that something was, but it had the makings of a legend, or some prophecy all had forgotten. The moment Claire made her first appearance with a phoenix perched on her outstretched arm, there was suddenly nothing she couldn't do, no promise she couldn't keep. With her stood before them, sharing her story, the people of Felheim became more aware of the war in the former Kastelir than ever, of the threat Agados had always silently posed, and took it upon themselves to feel the effects of a fire that had never touched them. Now that there was surely an end to it, they could revel in the danger.
