by RG Long
“You mean she’s still alive?” he said, almost sounding resigned. “It figures.”
Barton resumed his position on the log and twirled Holve’s spear between his fingers.
“Sure is,” he said through a grin that didn’t communicate warmth or friendliness at all. “Magical, ain’t she?”
It was this moment that Ealrin heard a low rumbling in the distance. Not of lizards nor of thunder. Then a trumpet sounded out, followed by another call. And another. The sound of men marching through the jungle came crashing into Ealrin’s ears. He had heard it many times before.
“The war is starting again,” Barton said. “And this time, we’re gonna make sure it goes in our favor.”
He motioned to the other men and women with him.
“Get them off the ground,” he said. “They’ve got a date with Her Holiness.”
21: Things Held in Common
They were taken roughly from their spots around the tree and led through the forest. Ealrin saw Blume look at Holve again, as if to say, “Aren’t we going to get out of this?” with her eyes.
Holve still shook his head.
He had been so eager to use Blume’s magic before. Why was he deciding to not use her abilities now? They were outnumbered and unarmed, but that hadn’t stopped them before. Ealrin had seen Silverwolf produce knives and daggers from hidden spots and finish off an entire room of guards.
Surely even that skillset would come in handy now?
Unless Holve had some plan that he wasn’t able to share with them at the moment. The old man was frustrating at times. And Ealrin found himself getting more and more upset with the man. Why wouldn’t he just tell them what he had planned?
Rough foliage brushed Ealrin’s face as they marched through the dense jungle trees. They were going in the opposite direction that they had been heading before. Following a fork in the stream, they began going down a sloping hill. Ealrin heard the sound of marching boots all around him, but the dense trees prevented him from seeing them in total.
What war did they keep referencing? And how had Holve failed them?
Ealrin thought back to their previous battles together. Holve had been a general for the Kingdom of Thoran on Ruyn. For a long time, he understood.
And now he was hearing that Holve had also helped serve as a general here?
How old was he?
There wasn’t much time to deliberate on such topics. The cloaked figures kept them moving down the sloping hill until the ground began to both even out and become coarse dirt, which then turned to sand.
Ealrin slipped in the unstable ground and staggered. His escort pulled him up roughly by the collar of his jacket.
“Stay on your feet,” he said. “While you still have the privilege, that is.”
Ealrin didn’t like the sound of that.
He looked over his shoulder at Blume, who was both struggling with her guard and looking very frustrated. A spark of magic flew from her hair. Ealrin’s eyes went wide and turned back around quickly. He didn’t want to draw any attention to the already troublesome occurrence.
“We’ve got a fiery one back here Barton!” Ealrin heard.
He shut his eyes in anticipation of the response. It wouldn’t do well if they all started calling them witches and heretics again. Then again, Barton did seem to know what Rimstone was and didn’t immediately call them out.
Just who were they dealing with?
Barton called out from the front of the group.
“Keep her in check,” he said. “I don’t want any damage to come to her or that little necklace. Her Holiness will be very interested in both of them.”
Great, Ealrin thought. More people who want to take advantage of Blume.
He stumbled again and began to slide down a steep incline that snuck up on him. His guard came with him.
“Watch it!” he said as they slid down a sandy dune and landed hard in the beach below. Ealrin registered the smell of salty air and the view of the sky for the first time in days. He wished he could have had time to appreciate them both. But as the breath came back into his lungs from hitting the ground so hard, the only thing he could really pay attention to were the vast ships that were sailing their way to the beach, and the boats that carried soldiers wearing blue and black.
Banners rose from the larger ships and from some of the smaller boats as well.
On a blue and white banner, a black half star stood over them proudly.
They had been brought to the beginning of a naval invasion.
SITTING ON THE BEACH, Ealrin watched hundreds of soldiers with shining breastplates and flowing robes getting out of their boats. Each of them carried a small shield, spear, and short sword. Blue and black filled the beaches, but the army didn’t stay there. They formed into lines and began marching into the jungle.
Two boats came that didn’t have any soldiers, as far as Ealrin could tell. Instead, men and women in different types of clothing appeared and began setting up rugs and tents on the flat even part of the beach, well past the mark of high tide.
“Everyone in an army has a different job to do,” Gorplin said, nodding his head in answering Jurrin’s question about what they were doing.
“Yeah,” Silverwolf added. “And I’m sure setting up tents is a great honor.”
Barton looked around at her with a grin on his face that did nothing to calm Ealrin’s nerves.
“Her Holiness likes the beach,” he said. “You’ll be granted an audience as soon as she arrives.”
Silverwolf scoffed, but Barton didn’t do anything about it. One of his guards walked up and elbowed him. He pointed out to the sea, where a much larger boat than the ones that had ferried the soldiers was making its way towards the beach.
It flew several white and blue banners, all with the same black half star. The main body of the boat was a dark brown wood, but the rest of it was painted bright blue with white trimmings. A large half star stood proudly over a covered portion of the boat. Ealrin guessed it was made of wood or some type of metal.
The boat was rowed by strong men and women, all in black uniforms. Their strokes were even and smooth. With each one, they came closer and closer to shore.
“Stand them up!” Barton shouted. “They’ll show Her Holiness proper respect!”
Ealrin was roughly handled from behind and stood on his feet by one of the cloaked figures who had first caught them. He heard Gorplin complaining about being handled so and Silverwolf bit at the hand that tried to raise her to her feet.
“Try it,” she said with a menacing look. “And you'll pull back a nub. I’ll get to my own feet.”
She actually does it, which Ealrin finds shocking in its own right. Every guard and soldier stands and looks at the boat as it makes its way steadily towards land. When it finally hits the beach, the same men and women who had rowed it there took up their oars and fiddled with them for a while. Ealrin tried to see what was going on, but before he could make out what was happening, the closed area of the boat with the star rose up into the air.
They were carrying it from their oars.
“What’s that funny word for one of those things, Mister Holve?” Jurrin asked curiously. Ealrin didn’t know what he was talking about.
“A palanquin,” he said through gritted teeth.
“I thought it was a litter,” Gorplin said.
“Of pups, Mister Gorplin? That doesn’t make sense,” Jurrin replied.
“Hush,” Barton said to them without turning his head. “You’ll wait until Her Holiness is down to talk.”
“She’s in there?” Jurrin said again, looking at the box as it made its way to the tents that had been constructed and now took up a large portion of the beach.
“Shush,” Barton said again, louder and with more purpose.
Jurrin shushed.
Ealrin looked back over his shoulder and saw that several soldiers stood at the edge of the jungle all waiting to see the cart being carried up the beach. Each one of th
em stood exactly the same way. Right hand made into a fist, bent at the elbow so that the hand was even with the shoulder. Ealrin guessed it was some salute or sign of dignity. Whatever it was, everyone on the beach, save for his group of companions who had their hands tied, was doing it.
The palanquin made its way towards the tents, then was set down before them. As soon as the rowers removed their oars, several of the other guards began to scurry around, draping more and more tent fabric in every direction.
“Have the traitor walk beside me,” Barton said. “Everyone else come behind. I’m sure Her Holiness will want to see him first and foremost after the hell he caused us.”
“I’m beginning to feel like they don’t like you very much,” Silverwolf said to Holve.
He ignored her and stood next to Barton. Before he moved forward, he looked at Blume and still mouthed the word ‘no.’
EALRIN WAS SURPRISED by how thick the tent’s fabric was. The people who had constructed the thing seemed to be able to throw the material up over poles and onto pegs. When they were escorted through a flap, however, he saw that there were layers and layers of cloth thrown on top of one another.
The sound of the waves lapping on the shore was muffled immediately as the outer flap was closed. It was a strange sensation. Candles were lit inside of the tent, as the material also seemed able to prevent the suns from penetrating it. The overall effect was that Ealrin felt suddenly like he was in a very deep cave, or interior castle room.
He blinked several times to adjust his eyes to the lack of light before Barton began speaking.
“You know what to do, Holve,” he said looking over at him. Then moving on to the rest of the company, he put on a stern expression “The rest of you, speak only when and if Her Holiness addresses you. Don’t talk softly, speak up. When she’s finished with you, she’ll wave her hand. You’re to bow, then step back.”
Holve shook his head.
“She never bothered me about it when...”
“Well times have changed,” Barton cut across him. “And you’ll act according to those times.”
Holve gave Barton a sideways look that seemed to communicate something Ealrin couldn’t quite place. Like a history the two shared, or a memory.
There were pieces of the story that Ealrin didn’t have. He wanted to know more, but now was not the time to ask.
They were led deeper into the tent, which amazed Ealrin that the fabric could contain so many halls and rooms. The place felt like a palace or a castle but was clearly made of woven materials. Tables and lamps, rugs, and even statues were everywhere. Somehow, he had missed all of these things being brought in.
Finally they came to a wooden door. Ealrin assumed it was the outside of the palanquin that had been brought in from the sea. Four guards, two on each side, stood at the doors. They wore all black, with a blue symbol on their chest that looked like the half star, but with a crown sewn above it.
The royal guard, Ealrin guessed.
Barton took three steps up to it and knocked three times. In response, the door opened just a crack. Barton pushed it the rest of the way open and turned to the group.
“Mind your manners in front of Her Holiness.”
The inside of the palanquin was deceptively large. Candles lined the walls in metal holders and small slits in the corners must serve as vents for the room. Though Ealrin couldn’t hear the sound of the sea, he could definitely smell it.
They all filed in, Jurrin, Blume, and Gorplin in front of him, followed by Silverwolf and Serinde. Holve stood beside Barton who was in front of them all. In the very center of the rectangular room there was a couch on a raised platform. On it laid the oldest woman Ealrin had ever seen. She laid on the couch in a very respectable manner but was reclining on one elbow. White cloths covered her whole body, even her head, though an ornamental headpiece of blue feathers and flowers emerged from the top of her. It seemed every inch of her skin was covered, save for her face.
She was dark skinned, like the others, and wrinkly and old. But her eyes were alive with a ferocity that Ealrin seemed to feel rather than see. She was completely aware of herself and her surroundings. More guards in black lined the walls. Each held an ornamental sword in one hand and a shield in the other.
“Your Holiness, Yada of the Islands of Splendor,” Barton said, bowing low. “I’ve brought someone who may be of interest to you.”
“I’ll daresay you have,” came the gravelly voice of the old woman. “Step forward, child.”
It seemed like everyone in the room blinked. Ealrin himself wondered if this was a slight on herself and her own great age, calling Holve a child, or if she was mistaken about who they had brought to her.
Perhaps she wasn’t as aware as her eyes portrayed.
“Y...Your Holiness?” Barton stuttered. “I’ve brought you...”
“Yes, yes,” the woman said, laying back on the armrest of her light blue couch. “I can see exactly who you’ve brought. I’ll deal with him later. For now, let the girl come forward.”
Ealrin’s neck nearly cracked with the force that he turned towards Blume. The girl, to her credit, didn’t seem scared or nervous at all. Quite the contrary. She looked defiant and full of pride. What did the old ruler see in her?
Then Ealrin remembered her necklace.
A madman had once toppled a city for that piece of jewelry. Maybe someone else would do so again?
He almost took a step forward, but at the slightest twist of his hand, the guard nearest him pointed his sharp tipped sword at Ealrin’s neck. From this close, he could see that the blade was not ornamental in function. It could slice him just as easily as any other weapon.
Blume took two steps forward, putting herself between Barton, Holve, and Yada.
“Mmm,” Yada said, looking at Blume with a piercing glare. “You’re a Speaker, are you not?”
Ealrin tensed, but so did the man holding a sword to his throat. It would be foolish to try to attack now. He stood back up straight, not having realized until just now that he had been poised to jump. What he thought he could accomplish without a sword, he didn’t know. He also was very aware that Blume could handle herself, if allowed to use her magic to its full potential.
If Blume had intended to lie and try to hide her abilities, it didn’t show. She answered boldly and quickly.
“I am,” she said, not looking down or away from Yada. “Your Holiness,” she added hastily, hearing the same cough that Ealrin heard Barton give.
“None of that,” Yada said, waving a hand. “Holiness is quite an arrogant term, don’t you think?”
Blume did hesitate at that.
“I’m... I’m sure your people mean well by it,” Blume said.
Not bad, Ealrin thought.
Yada apparently, disagreed.
“Pish,” she said. “They mean to make me a goddess by calling me things like ‘Her Holiness’ and ‘The Hope of the Islands’ and other rubbish.”
She spread her arms wide, as if to say to them all that she wasn’t hiding anything.
“This is all I am,” Yada said. “An old woman who’s managed to lead a failed rebellion against an enemy who has always hated us and our kind.”
Blume looked over her shoulder for a fleeting moment, before turning back around to face Yada.
“What do you mean by, ‘our kind’, Your Holiness?” she said.
Ealrin wondered the same thing. He hadn’t seen a single person on their journey so far who had the dark skin of the army that came onto the beach. Everyone on Ladis that he could tell had bright yellow hair and pale skin. Could she mean those whose skin was a different hue? Rather than point to her own dark and wrinkled skin, she held up a hand and, with a wave, made a goblet of water come floating over to her from a nearby table. It landed gently in her outstretched hand.
“Why, Speakers of course.”
22: The Wars of Previous Years
Blume was in awe.
She had seen the goblet fall, just as
the rest of them had, but to her it meant so much more than just a normal act of Speaking.
There had been Speakers on Ruyn, those who could use the magic of Rimstone to control the elements. Very few had been around on Irradan, or at least, few that Blume had run into.
But here, lying before her, was a leader, a queen, or whatever she was, and she was a Speaker.
This idea amazed Blume beyond her small words.
“Are there more Speakers with you?” she said without really knowing what she meant by that. Were there more Speakers in the army? In the Royal Guards? In this room?
She found herself looking sideways at the guards who were so intent on everyone behind her. Were they able to use Rimstone?
But no. They didn’t appear to have any of the magical rock close to them. It wasn’t on their swords or around their necks or on a wand they held ready.
Come to think of it, Blume found herself wondering, neither did Yada.
She brought her attention back onto the old woman and saw that her headpiece, which she had before thought was quite ugly, even though it looked rather expensive and well made, was covered in small blue stones.
Rimstones.
They glowed with a soft light, remembering the magic Yada had called out of them to bring the goblet to her. As she finished the drink, she floated it back to its table and returned her gaze to Blume again.
“There are many in my army,” she said. “Though fewer than the last time we came to these shores, looking for the revenge my people seek. For you see, as Holve behind you could tell you if he hasn’t already, we are a people of Speakers.”
Everyone in the room cast a quick glance at Holve. He didn’t flinch. Blume looked over her shoulder at their leader. Or, at least, the man whose opinion mattered as much as or slightly more than Ealrin’s when it came to making decisions for their group.
Blume turned back to Yada.
“Ladis fears us,” she continued. “They are right to do so. For you know as well as the rest of us the terrible power that comes with the ability to bend nature itself to our wills. We can call forth fire and flame, wind and water, earth and sky with just a thought. There was once a time when the Islands of Splendor, as the only ones who are able to use the gift in all of this side of the world, thought it was our right to rule.”
