Oblivion's Queen

by M. H. Johnson

  Raphael gave a solemn nod. "He is right. Our king, gods save him, is counted a ruthless man by some. But none can discount his effectiveness as a ruler. It is only a well-paid assassin indeed who would dare shed noble blood, with a rich purse of gold for his trouble and safe voyage already prepared out of Erovering. Only a suicidal fool would harm our Jacob who has made no enemies, and who has no stake in the Noble Council's political maneuverings whatsoever."

  Malek took a deep breath, shaking his head ruefully. “I know, I know. He will be all right, assuming he doesn't do something truly foolish. Still, I shouldn't have hit him.”

  Josie shrugged. “True. So give him some time to himself. He will no doubt know where we are, and when he is ready, he can find us. Talk to him. Apologize to him, but also be honest with your feelings. Patch things up, and let the past remain in the past from that point on. That's what I would advise, in any case.”

  Jera nodded. “And when you two have patched things up, he can apologize to Jess.”

  Jess shook her head. “He doesn't need to apologize to me,” she softly insisted.

  Jera gave a reproving shake of her head. “Nonsense, Jess. He made light of your gifts, and mocked you as someone who would casually kill those of noble blood. Those are grave offenses. It is only because he is our friend and obviously in distress that makes his words at all forgivable.”

  Jess's voice turned soft. "He's wrong, to think I'm some sort of arch Druid. I just have a knack with plants. But he's also right, you know. I am a killer." She only needed to glance at her mace and saber, securely strapped to loop and sheath upon her saddle once more, to know how true those words were. She had replaced the saber General Eloquin had designed for all his Squires with the sharpest and best balanced in Raphael's armory, her own weapon so badly pitted she had no choice but to discard it, almost as if it had been scored by acid, and how it had burst through that one soldier's mail shirt before lodging itself firmly in his spine was a thought Jess chose not to dwell upon.

  She could still remember so viscerally the shock of impact when she crashed into her foes, the madness of melee, the black fury she felt as she hammered her enemies to death with her mace. Lacking all grace, it had been strength and savagery entwined with her deadly sense of timing that had served her so well with that weapon, crushing skulls even beneath protective helms when her foes left the slightest opening, her shield yet another weapon to pound and stagger her enemies as they had fallen to her frenzy, none allowed to live. A berserker's madness long banked under Eloquin's cold discipline, allowed at last to blaze to fierce life in desperate battles to save their friends.

  She felt gentle hands grip her shoulders. Malek gazing solemnly into her eyes. “It's all right, Jess. And everything you said was true. We are the best Highrock has to offer her nation, tutored by the most feared general alive today, doing exactly what we have trained all these years to do. Not out of malice, or cruelty, but to defend our friends, our loved ones, to protect our great nation, to protect our kingdom's greatest treasure." With those solemn words Malek gazed back at the capital city, even as it sparkled, wondrous, like a magnificent jewel reflecting the brilliant fiery hues of the setting sun.

  Jess smiled, taking a deep breath, feeling oddly comforted by her shieldbrother's words.

  “He's right, you know,” Raphael softly opined, grinning warmly at Jess. “Were it not for you and Malek, I fear Josie and I might already be among the dead, or being used for ransom even at this very moment, our survival even then by no means assured. To say nothing of the house staff, and I can imagine all too well what it was like for the housemaids, living under the cruel auspices of that monstrous excuse for a house guard.”

  Josie nodded at her lover's sentiment. “There now. That's all settled. We love you, Jess, and you have nothing to feel ashamed of. And if I ever made you feel otherwise, well, let me apologize to you for that right now.”

  Jess couldn't help but smile warmly at her friend. “No need for that, Josie. You honor me just by accepting me as I am, despite my flaws and a nature that somewhat shames me.” She turned Mercy back to the main road once more. “Come, my friends. Light is fast fading, and I am eager to see the capital in all her glory!”

  With that Jess and her companions sedately made their way towards the southern gate of the great city wall, the true scope of the structure all the more impressive as they approached, finding themselves approaching the rear end of a queue made up of travelers with knapsacks, farmers with produce-laden wagons, traders with carriages large and small. A great line of patient folk, all waiting for their turn through inspections.

  Jess was about to settle herself in for a wait even as she received more than one admiring glance for her fine destrier, when a bemused Raphael gave a gentle shake of his head, leading their party to the rear of a far smaller line of obviously noble carriages sedately passing through a second, smaller gate, only a few of the commoners bothering to grumble at the perceived disparity of it all.

  Raphael nodded as Jess's raised eyebrow. "There is always a cursory inspection of goods and travelers brought into the capital. In relaxed times it can be a simple declaration, but the guard has the right to inspect any and all cargo for contraband, with stiff penalties if found, and equally stiff if a guard is later found to have been negligent in his search." Her friend permitted himself a sardonic smile. "There is far less concern regarding nobles bringing in contraband. As I'm sure you already know, any lord and his retinue are allowed to bear any type arms and armaments, save longbows and crossbows. Of course, no lord's retinue will be allowed to actually wield halberds or the like, outside of their personal compounds. Sidearms only in the streets of Krona, unless you are part of the royal guard, of course. Still, there is little worry of members of the ruling class smuggling in wagonloads of contraband, or inciting rebellion amongst the common folk, and no lord judges another noble's personal vices, whether it be poppy, dreamspice, or simply good brandy."

  Malek chuckled softly. "And of course, no guardsman wants to be the one forced to accuse a noble of carrying contraband, anyway. A lose, lose proposition, I'm sure."

  Raphael grinned. “I will say only that it is in the best interest of Crown and Council to maintain the status quo, so it is assumed only personal excesses would be found upon a person of stature. And I do believe the guardsman ahead is signaling that it is our turn to approach.”

  Jess noted the royal tabards worn over long-sleeved shirts of mail by the halberd wielding guardsmen even then waving her over, the faintly reproving eyes of the foremost guardsman giving her a quick once-over before speaking in a gruff voice. “I take it you haven't been to the capital before, lass. This gate is the lords gate. You'll be wanting to wait in the line over yonder.”

  His rough-shaven counterpart gave a curt nod. "Free advice. Whether you be a mercenary or no, none save the king's own or a lord's Sworn are permitted to go about in a proper city wielding armaments of war. Perhaps your lord looked the other way, should he be the type to pay mercenaries to hunt down bandits or harry his neighbors. A guard might look the other way with your saber, for all that I can tell it's an instrument of battle and not a dueling toy. But if I were you, I'd stow away everything right and tight, and bind away your javelins and mace as well, before entering the city proper."

  The man's hawk-like gaze was almost sympathetic as he shook his head. “And I pray for your sake that your party carries no bows of any sort. Such could get you killed, lass, and you're far too fine looking a girl for me to let you ride blithely to the goal without some kind of warning, simply because your lord failed at teaching his freemen the rudiments of city law.”

  Jess blinked, nonplussed, before chuckling softly. “And do I look like a common mercenary to you, soldier?” Jess asked, gently scratching her mount's glossy mane, even as Mercy nickered softly.

  Exquisitely trained and painstakingly bred for intelligence and stamina, yet able to reach charging speed with a race horse's agility, destriers were
the most valued of all horses, the pinnacle of chargers. Not so good at the chase, perhaps, as the finest of rounceys favored by the king's mounted archers, yet their ability to dextrously maneuver around the field of battle and burst forth at charging speed from a near dead stop were traits that knights prized destriers for above all others.

  Indeed, Jess acknowledged to herself as she gently patted her horse's flank, their destriers were a large part of how she and Malek had been able to dominate the grassy field beside Raphael's chateau; fighting off the corrupt captain and his underlings in part by using their horses' maneuverability and speed to outmaneuver and outflank their opponents, picking off the captain's men one by one, until melee in earnest had at last been engaged. Mounts of such quality as hers were particularly rare and highly prized, and any rider worth his salt, such as all royal soldiers were reputed to be, would instantly recognize the quality of her mount.

  The first guardsman blinked, gazing closely at Mercy, even as she bared her teeth at the approaching stranger.

  “Easy girl," Jess clucked softly. Her mount never had a problem with stablehands of course, yet like all destriers, an unknown party wearing steel would be at risk of attack, if not gently soothed.

  The guard quickly stepped back, his gaze now suspicious.

  “A king's man should know better than to approach a noble's mount wearing steel,” Jess softly reproved.

  “That is no simple rouncey," the second guard said, his gaze also hardening. "And you, girl, are neither knight nor noble, but you do have the look of one blooded." The man's tone grew suddenly stern. A sharp whistle and three guardsmen, all with crossbows at the ready, Jess was amused to note, were backing the two halberd wielding guards in but a handful of seconds. Jess gave a cold smile of approval, glad that at least some among the king's troops were competent.

  Twilight purred from his favorite perch. “Ooh goody. Perhaps they are going to fight us.” He turned to his mistress, eyes twinkling with feline bemusement. “So, my Jess, shall we take them on, seize the capital, and show them who the true ruler of this realm is?” Twilight sighed. “I must admit, the bucolic life of an out of the way barony is nice, but there is something to be said for a bit of pomp and splendor, and perhaps half a dozen loyal servitors catering to your beloved familiar's every whim.”

  Jess chuckled softly at her familiar's lighthearted banter. “Behave, Twilight,” she indulgently reproved. “Besides, knowing you, they'd all be chefs, beholden to your every whim, till you were so stuffed you could hardly move, and then what good would you be?”

  “Are you mad, girl?” The lead guardsman demanded, a bit nonplussed as the lady he was addressing seemed to be speaking to empty air. “By what guile, treachery, or trickery did you and your companions obtain those horses, and what is your real reason for entering Krona?”

  “Jess, now is not the time to be chatting with your invisible familiar!” Malek whispered curtly, before turning his gaze to stare down the increasingly disturbed guardsmen. “We are lords, sirrah, and have every right to pass through those gates, as per the accords signed by queen and noble clans alike, at the very founding of our nation.” His smile turned cold. “If you'd like to dispute nobleman's privilege, I would be more than happy to take it up with you in the dueling circles.”

  The guardsman looked suddenly furious and snarled. “I will see proof of that, whelp, before I lower my head to you or any of your companions! Now by king's authority, I demand you all dismount and place yourselves in our custody, and we will let the warden himself measure the merit of your claims!”

  Jess could hear Josie start to whimper and Alex sigh, even as a beaming Raphael gently approached the increasingly suspicious guardsmen, arms languidly raised, eyes twinkling at a shared jest. "Please forgive my companions, gentle sirs, for it has been a hard journey, and we hardly look our best, I'm afraid," Raphael soothed, the guards blinking and at once coming to attention, apparently recognizing him. "Johann, I see you are well. Excellent! I had some concern for that nasty cough affecting you last winter, and I do hope the potion I had passed on to your wife took care of that ailment. And how is little Johanna doing, by the way?"

  The lead guardsman appeared shaken, suddenly bowing low. “Lord diOnni. Please forgive me, I did not recognize you! I take it these are your men. And I am doing very well, thank you, my lord!” He gave a deprecating chuckle. “I thought it might be thanks to your auspices that my wife had received that tincture. She gives you her thanks as well, says that cough of mine was keeping her and the baby up half the night!”

  Raphael nodded, looking genuinely happy for the man. "Then I am glad to hear of your full recovery, my friend." He turned to Jess, flashing her a wink and gamely patting her shoulder. "And may I add that it is this valiant warrior that you have to thank. Not my henchman at all, though if only I had servitors of her quality, I'd be paying them a fortune in gold just to retain their services!" He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "No, my friend. This is none other than Lady Jessica de Calenbry, General Arthur de Calenbry's daughter, in fact, who besides being directly responsible, along with our good Lord Malek de Sousel here, for saving the lives of me and my beloved both, also happens to be quite the herbalist. It is she, my dear Johann, who you have to thank for the cure of your wet-lung."

  The guardsman known as Johann was visibly trembling. He immediately bowed as low as he could while still remaining upright. “Please forgive me, Lady de Calenbry. Lord de Sousel. I cry pardon if I caused either of you any offense. My lords and ladies, you are free to pass at your leisure.”

  The other guard also bowed low, his gaze one of naked fear. “Please, my lady, my lord. Accept our apologies for any offense we may have caused.” Even as he spoke the words, the three crossbowmen lowered their weapons, dipping their heads respectfully before discretely removing themselves from the scene.

  Jess gave a friendly nod. “No worries, gentlemen. Your hearts are true, both in giving warning to a young woman you felt foolishly unprepared for the city, and taking a perceived threat seriously. It is I who apologize to you, for not speaking plainly from the outset.”

  Malek snorted. “Well I suppose I shall have to accept your apologies as well then,” he said to the guards before chuckling wryly. “If you're ever feeling restless, however, feel free to approach me if you see me. I'd be happy to test Highrock training against royal armsmen in the dueling rings. To first blood, of course.”

  Johann flashed a grateful smile but did not answer Malek's challenge, bowing even as the gate was opened, the six quickly ushered through.

  Josie rolled her eyes, swatting her friend. “Honestly, Malek, you are starting to sound as bad as Jess!”

  Jess snickered at that before gasping with wide-eyed wonder at the splendor before them as they entered the city proper; vast walls of palest stone seeming almost to glow with the last burgundy rays of the setting sun, buildings vast and wondrous reaching for the sky with brilliant, bronze capped towers catching the light and proclaiming Krona's glory to all with the eyes to look up and behold the shimmering spectacle. The boulevard was wide and stately, and everywhere there was green. Trees lined the thoroughfares, branches waving a gentle welcome in the evening breeze. Waterfalls of blossoming ivy could be seen caressing the walls of many a stately looking manor; the smells of honeysuckle, mint, wisteria, and lavender all serving as delightful undertones to the more pungent aromas of smoke and cooking spices that were the hallmark of any city or sizable town.

  “By all the gods, it's beautiful!” Jess uttered reverently.

  Raphael gave a pleased nod and winked. “It is indeed, my Jess. I have long thought that you would find the many gardens and tree-lined boulevards of the capital much to your liking. An old city this is, predating all those our architects and craftsmen have built since, but a work of wonder, nonetheless. Its sewage system lies completely below ground, waste removed by an underground tributary that has never suffered backflow or dried out in all the recorded history of our fair city
."

  Jess grinned, the absence of a certain expected city stench succinctly explained. “For the first time, I almost regret my utter distaste for politics, the Lords Council, and the great game of Houses Mother and Apple find so fascinating.” Jess flashed a surprised looking Raphael a wink. “Almost.”

  Malek chuckled dryly. “Trust me, dearest Jess, beneath the wondrous beauty that makes up the surface of our beloved Krona you will find intrigue and backstabbing like you wouldn't believe; a festering rot the equal of all the petty squabbles of the northern reaches of our fair nation that we call home.” Malek sighed. “For all that I love this city, you and I are both better off living the honest lives of adventurers, exploring all the wonders and mystery of dream, closing portals leading directly to those Shadowrealms when they put our land in peril, just like heroes out of legend.”

  Jess nodded in complete agreement. “Well said, shieldbrother. Well said indeed.”

  Alex winced. “And perhaps, as we are now in the city proper with a thousand ears and who knows how many Crown Agents, I suggest we practice keeping our cards close to our vests, so to speak, and proceed with what we came here to do with all due haste, beautiful as Krona may be.”

  Jess shuddered at those words, though she could not say why. They were on the verge of accomplishing their mission, after all, having saved Raphael and Josie, and about to do their part to keep the Chalice of Absolution out of enemy hands. She thought she heard mocking laughter off in the distance, yet when she turned around nothing and no one looked out of place, though her shieldbrother was gazing at her oddly.