“We will be dining in here this evening, not in the Great Hall as the king and Maris preferred to do,” said Scylla. “Bring what information you have then.”
He nodded. Coltic placed the now-sleeping prince on his bed and left with Mako.
“Curse it!” sighed Scylla. “I had just begun to look forward to some peaceful days! Now this – the priests coming back to life!”
***
The afternoon dragged on. Scylla tried hobbling about the room with the aid of a broom and Bart Smith’s swordstick. Her ankle could not take weight, but hopping around was better than nothing. She felt as if she had been sitting for days, and she felt stiff and weak, even now that her headache was not so relentless.
Her mind turned to the flag. “I wonder if I can change the flag,” she pondered.
“Change it to what?” asked Minda, who was going through a box of clothing that Torin and Togin had outgrown years before, looking for items suitable for the much-younger Prince Leon.
“I want to add three red spots to it. I thought of it while we were traveling. Three spots to represent the King and the princes... their blood, I mean.”
“None for Queen Maris?”
“No, she was hand in hand with the priests... not that she could have known what they were planning.”
“Hmmm,” Minda tilted her head. “I wonder if anyone would object or if Mako would say you need a proclamation or some such for that.”
“I’ll make a small version of the flag with red spots as an example,” Scylla decided. “Is there some fabric in those trunks that I can use?”
“I think so. I will find some pieces for you.” She rummaged around and pulled out some suitably colored fabrics. She handed them to Scylla, who sat in the chair and planned her project.
Minda went on with her sorting of the clothing, and Sorrell mostly slept. Axit looked after the young prince and carried out some tasks around the room, such as making tea and fetching for Scylla, Minda, or Sorrell as required.
In the late afternoon, the three guards on the roof garden were relieved by replacements, and outside in the hallway, voices and other sounds indicated the presence of the guards on duty.
“It is almost strange,” said Scylla. “All these guards! Do you not feel sometimes like we are prisoners in the Queen’s quarters?”
“I am wondering what you ladies did before these recent events,” Minda remarked.
Both Scylla and Sorrell eyed her questioningly.
“I mean, how did you entertain yourselves? I understand the late queen and her ladies were not to your liking, and you lived in your own separate quarters.”
“Scylla had her garden and the beehives on top of the wall. I often went out to buy food at the market. Also, we did needlework,” said Sorrell. “Embroidery, that sort of thing.”
“We did some of it very badly,” Scylla added. “If the queen liked a piece, she would take it. So we only allowed them to see work that we did poorly. The better ones are hidden in my room... I hope they are still there! I wonder if someone could find out and bring my things here. There is a big locked box and also a trunk full of fabrics and thread. And that small loom the king gave me for my birthday two years ago. We tried some weaving but I would not make anything in case the queen or her ladies saw it.”
“This past two years the queen had not bothered the princess so much.” Sorrell snorted.
“Why is that?”
“She had screaming fits and threw things every time Maris or her ladies bothered us.”
“They learned to give us a very wide berth! I am sure the whole court has a very poor opinion of its new queen...” said Scylla.
“ ‘Had’, perhaps. They have seen a very different person now that you have stepped into your new role.”
“Hmmmph,” Scylla grunted. “I am merely pretending. I hope Mako will soon sort out this problem with the priests. I hope everything will go back to being peaceful, as it was before.”
Minda said, “Well, you are free to do fine work now and you may want to! You will find it tedious otherwise until your ankle is well enough to walk on. How did you learn to do needlework?”
Scylla shrugged. “I have always done it.”
“Her work is very fine when she chooses. Much better than mine,” said Sorrell from the bed.
“You may not remember but as a small child, you were often with your mother and her ladies while they were busy at needlework. I will have the things brought in. It will be interesting to see both your good work and your poor work! I wonder whether in a week or two you would be interested in visiting our weaving workshops.”
“Weaving workshops? Where are they?” asked Scylla.
“We have several in different villages,” Minda said. “They produce different grades of weaving – some rough, some better and some quite fine. We also have felting workshops. The weaving and felts are sold in Rellant, but we also export to Gryor, which is a larger market for our work.”
Sorrell looked across at Scylla. “That could be interesting.”
Scylla nodded in cautious agreement. “When my ankle is better, perhaps.”
“Your mother had weaving and felting rooms in the castle here as well. I believe Queen Maris shut them down as she had no interest in either. There is a dressmaker on the ground floor beneath these chambers. I plan to visit that workshop within the next day or so.”
“That dressmaker came from elsewhere,” Sorrell recalled. “He may want to leave again as I doubt this court will be making use of him in the same way.”
“I will not require such fanciful gowns as Maris and her ladies demanded – nor so many. His talents will be wasted.”
“I am interested in meeting him. He may be useful, even if your court’s requirements are different from the late queen’s.”
“I suppose so...” said Scylla, losing interest. “Well, I wish I had not taken my needlework to the hunting lodge when we went. It was almost done – it’s still there in our room, I presume.”
“Well, I doubt we’ll ever see it again. What will be done with the hunting lodge now?” Sorrell added.
Scylla grimaced. “Perhaps it should be torched. I for one will not return. And yet the king loved it. He was always adding to it. Like that silly turret... a blind turret built by an unobservant king!” She threaded her needle and began to sew the first red spot in the lower-left corner of her new flag.
***
Late in the afternoon, Scylla was lying in her bed with the curtain half pulled across, on the verge of dozing off. A knock on the door roused her, and she heard Minda go down the length of the room to open it. A murmuring of voices in lighter tones suggested it was not the chancellor or Captain Coltic.
Minda appeared at the curtained alcove a moment later.
“Who is it?”
“A different healer... the soldiers have brought her from the religious house. She bears a message of apology... Corobit has been disciplined for her actions, she tells me.”
“We do not need her – tell her to go away,” Scylla commanded.
“She has brought something for you.”
“Oh?”
“It’s a binding for your ankle that may help you walk around a little more easily. I suggest you take a look at it.”
“Hmmm,” Scylla said noncommittally. She pushed back the covers and sat on the side of the bed, raising her foot to look at the ankle in question. The swelling was somewhat less, but the black, blue and yellow bruising had spread as bruising does. Walking would be restricted for the immediate future. Unless... “Well, let me see it.”
A small woman, even smaller than Scylla, peeped around the curtain. Bright eyes in a weathered face met Scylla’s wary gaze.
“This is Mother Caryn from the religious house with the medical calling,” Minda introduced her.
“I am here to repair the rift caused by our healer Corobit, Queen Scylla,” said Mother Caryn with a quizzical tilt of her head. “If you allow. She felt called to come here thi
s morning as none of the others was immediately available. Our house appreciates her as a capable healer. However, we do not often send her outside our religious house, as her manner is...” She didn’t finish her sentence.
Scylla nodded.
“I have brought the fresh comfrey leaves as promised for the Lady Sorrell. Also, this to support your ankle.” She held up a well-shaped ankle binding in stiff leather with a lamb’s wool lining. “Perhaps you would like to try it.”
“It looks very competently made,” said Minda with approval.
“It does,” Scylla agreed. She allowed the healer, who was spry but looked advanced in age, to put it on her foot. Lacing tightened the binding and provided some useful support.
“It seems comfortable,” she admitted. “Thank you. I will try it.”
“Do not overuse your ankle for a few weeks. Pain is our friend. Here, also, I have brought you some arnica salve. It is of a higher concentration than what your court ladies have available. Apply a little, three or four times a day, and do not rub. You will find pain relief and aid in healing.”
“Thank you,” Scylla said again.
The healer stood up and hesitated for a moment. Then the bright eyes flashed up eagerly to meet Scylla’s eyes again.
“I understood...” she began. “That is... Corobit spoke of a creature with an injured arm...? I wonder if I may...?”
Scylla and Minda exchanged glances.
“Let her see him,” Scylla decided. Minda crossed the room and picked up the basket, setting it down on the bed.
Mother Caryn leaned a fraction of an inch closer and peered into the basket. “Ooh,” she breathed after a moment. “’Tis a treelet! I have never seen one! Alive or dead... Is it dead as Corobit presumed?” The bright eyes traveled busily over the sticklike limbs, the crusty grey skin and slightly furry body.
“He wasn’t,” said Scylla. “We are told they go dormant. We believe he has gone dormant after eating.”
“What a very neat job on his elbow,” marveled the little old woman. “What did you do with his forearm?”
“I put it in the fire,” said Minda.
“Ohhh,” she sighed. “Our house would have loved to have seen it... would have kept it for study...” She looked up with an unspoken question.
“No,” said Scylla. “You can’t have him. We will return him to the forest very soon. Do not speak of him to others.”
Caryn’s rapturous expression did not change. “Very wise! If... if he needs further care, I am happy to return. Do not be afraid to send a message, to me alone.”
Minda nodded. She put the basket back in the corner.
Caryn gave Scylla a sweet glance and a delighted twitch of her silver eyebrows. The corners of her mouth leaped upwards. “Thank you so much, Queen Scylla! I will keep the secret of the treelet to myself.” Minda ushered her to the door, handing her some coins.
“Well,” she said when she returned to Scylla’s alcove. “Mother Caryn was much more what I had expected from the religious house when I sent for one of their healers.”
Scylla shrugged. “It is not all bad. Some of the words spoken by the healer Corobit were useful to hear... Curses! What is happening now?”
Noise erupted in the corridor outside the door. There were the sounds of stamping feet, the clanking of arms, followed by a loud knock on the door.
“Oh, it is merely the chancellor,” said Minda with some relief. Mako came in. A wiry young soldier with blue eyes and a stubborn mouth was shoved through the door after him by Coltic. The young soldier looked as if he would rather be almost anywhere else than the queen’s quarters. They crossed the reception foyer and entered the larger room.
“Good afternoon, ladies... Princess... I mean Queen Scylla!”
Scylla hobbled to her chair with the aid of her swordstick and the broom. The new support for her ankle was a definite improvement.
“Chancellor!” she nodded. “And Captain Coltic! Who is this?”
“This is Sergeant Brit who was standing guard over the priests’ bodies as their graves were dug. He had sent the other soldiers down to the river for water. Take what he says with a grain of salt... I suspect it was lightning that struck the castle wall.”
Sergeant Brit turned an indignant glare on him. “Chancellor Mako, I know what I saw!”
“What did you see?” asked Scylla.
“Well! I was standing guard over the dead priests, out there.” He gestured vaguely outside the castle to the east. “Then two of the bodies got up. I called for help but no one heard – they were all down in the stream cooling off. Then the dead priests knocked me down.” He pointed to a cut and bruising down the left side of his face.
“Then lightning hit the corner of the castle!” said Mako.
“No, sir! It wasn’t lightning. I swear before the Goddess!” His eyes turned to the queen earnestly. “The one in the high priest’s robes... he chanted some gibberish and he threw something like lightning out of his hand – at the castle wall. There was a loud snap and the wall cracked! I swear it!” He stopped, his eyes wide, staring blankly into his memories with something like horror.
“Then what?” asked Scylla.
“I was blinded!” the young soldier blurted. “When my vision cleared, both of the revived priests were gone...”
“Did you hear nothing?”
“My ears were ringing from the loud noise. I do not know where they went... None of it makes sense. Those priests were dead! They came back to life and threw... I cannot explain it!” He looked at Mako with desperation.
Mako shrugged. “Neither can I, soldier. Queen Scylla, do you want to question him further?”
Scylla raised her eyebrows and shook her head.
“Report to your quarters, soldier, I will speak to you later.”
The youth gave Mako a tortured stare. “I’ve sent a message to my father and granny! They’ll know how to deal with magic. Next time, I’ll be ready!”
Mako’s interest sharpened. He stared at the young sergeant, who met his eyes with determination. “What do you mean, they know how to deal with magic?”
“The ancient ways... the magic, you know,” Sergeant Brit insisted. “My granny – she’ll know what to do.”
“Really,” said Mako thoughtfully. He hesitated. “Well, perhaps you can take me to this granny of yours – I want to talk to her.”
There was a moment’s silence. The stressed look on the face of the soldier turned to dismay. “Oh!” he said. “Oh, no, never mind! It was not my granny... not her, and not my pa. I was thinking of someone else, but... No, they will be no help, no help at all. I’m sure they won’t...!”
Sergeant Brit, his jaw clenched, gave Mako a tight nod and his eyes shifted from side to side. Then he turned and practically ran out the door. Coltic closed the door behind him and returned.
Mako was looking thoughtful. “Why did he change his story?” he asked Coltic.
“It may be because those following the old ways – the forest ways, shall we call it – have been persecuted in the past. The priests and their formal worship of the Goddess are at the forefront in today’s society, although there may be much more beneath the surface than you – we, that is! – are aware of.”
“So he is protecting his family members,” said Mako. “Hmmm, I wonder if I can reassure him. It would be very useful to have more knowledge, as right now I – we – have so little!”
“He seems to believe what he says,” said Scylla.
“I believe he does too, but I am not sure how we are to believe something so unbelievable,” said Mako. “On the other hand, as we have seen and heard the trellet... Is he still here or did I dream that?”
“He is here,” said Scylla.
“We have heard what the trellet had to say... that is also difficult to make sense of. We must suspend judgment and move forward in this new reality.” Mako gave a shake of his head, disbelief written on his face.
“What do you plan to do about the... the dea
d priests, Chancellor?” Scylla enquired.
He gave her a nod. “Do not worry, Princess... ah... I mean, Queen Scylla... Captain Renold has sent out troops of soldiers to scour the countryside.”
“I look forward to hearing that they have been recaptured. Oh... Chancellor!”
“Yes, Queen Scylla?”
“I have decided I shall be known as the Princess Queen, at least until I choose differently in the future. You may spread that about the court and the kingdom. You and Minda and the others here may address me as Princess... I do not wish to be addressed as ‘Queen Scylla’ except in formal audiences.”
“As you wish, Princess!” Mako responded instantly.
“Furthermore...” She looked around the room challengingly. “I declare a state of war.”
| Chapter 13 |
Scylla faced the four faces now staring blankly at her... Mako, Coltic, Minda, and Sorrell.
“This kingdom has lived in peace for generations. I cannot recommend we ignore recent events, as my father may well have done if he had lived. I, however, as the untrained heir to this throne, have no expertise in ‘ruling’ – shall we say – even in peaceful times. I repeat! I declare a state of war, one in which we are not sure where, who, or even what our enemy may be. Mako... Coltic... Minda... Sorrell...” Scylla stabbed her finger at each in turn. “You all have proved your loyalty to the House of Rellant. To ensure the survival of this peaceful realm, I name you four as the... the War Council of Rellant! You may have a proclamation written up, Chancellor... and post it about the castle and the villages.”
“Ah...” said Mako, who appeared to have a thousand thoughts chasing through his brain. “Yes, Princess.”
Minda said slowly, “This is somewhat more than I expected to turn my hand to, but I accept.”
“Do you accept, Captain Coltic?” asked Scylla.
He gave an eager nod. “I do... and I have certain ideas for economic improvements... even during war!”
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