I made a noise. "One person isn't going to make a difference."
"Well…"
"Well, what?" I stopped and turned to him.
"Well, you also just disappeared for several weeks," Jorad said. "We left Neveri and you just gave a general order to find somewhere to camp. Then you sent us away, promising you'd be back within a few days."
My face warmed. "I had to take care of Beswick."
"And I understand that, but some of the soldiers may not," Jorad said. "All I'm suggesting is that you should consider that they might have some doubts about your leadership abilities." He cleared his throat. "If I'm not overstepping."
"You aren't," I said, putting my hand on my hip. "Have there been any problems from Ilara's soldiers?"
"No," Jorad said. "She hasn't sent any troops up this way—there's barely any security in the town nearby, so we've been patrolling the town in exchange for food and supplies."
"Excellent," I said. "I was wondering where all this stuff came from."
"Some from Neveri," he said. "But most of it's come from the village. Perhaps you can join Lady Beata when she goes. The townsfolk were overjoyed to hear that you're alive."
I winced. "I was hoping to keep my location a secret as long as I could. If Ilara finds out where I am, she could send a bevy of troops and flatten this place. We're still mostly out in the open."
"We aren't helpless," he said. "Seventy strong, and we have scouts monitoring the roads for signs of troop movements. We can pack up and leave in an hour if we need to."
I nodded. "Sounds like you've thought of everything."
"It was Captain Mark, actually. He's brilliant."
"Mm." I made a face. "He doesn't seem to think I know what I'm doing."
"It's in your best interests to listen to him," Jorad said. "Mark has years of leadership experience—nearly twenty as Captain of the Guard. Your father trusted him."
"And look what it got him."
"Pardon?" Jorad asked.
"Nothing." I shook my head. Clearly, I was the only one in the camp who remembered recent history. "Listen to Mark, sure. What else?"
"Take some time to get to know your soldiers," Jorad said. "One of the reasons Felix was so beloved was that he knew all of us—our hopes, dreams, fears. He took the time to understand why we'd joined and why we stayed." His eyes grew a little starry, and the guilt at leaving Felix behind in Forcadel gurgled in my stomach.
"I think I can handle that," I said, looking away from him to hide my unease.
A bell clanged—dinnertime, Jorad said. The soldiers walked toward a large tent in the center of the camp, where Beata greeted them. She, at least, had learned their names. I'd have her quiz me later.
"Brynna, my love," she said, tutting at me, "have you been rolling in the dirt?"
"A bit," I said, using the bottom of my tunic to wipe my face. "Got my ass kicked a little. Always good for the soul."
Jorad shook his head as he walked on, but Beata just giggled. "The old Brynna didn't like to lose."
"She's changed a little." I took her hands. "You look good, Bea. I'm glad they're treating you well here."
"I don't know about that," she said with a laugh as she led me inside the tent. "But I'm grateful for the industry. It keeps me from thinking about Kat in Forcadel." The ghost of a frown flitted across her face, and she shook herself to clear it. "I thought I was going to go mad in the castle. Ilara thought I'd be happy sitting around in Katarine's suite and doing needlepoint. Unfortunately, I've never been any good, so…"
"I bet your room was the cleanest it's ever been," I said with a smile.
She beamed. "Come, I've made a delicious beef stew for dinner tonight. And I've set a special place for you."
She led me through the tent, which took a while thanks to all the welcoming from the soldiers. A gold plate, gold goblet, and golden silverware decorated at a table with a fine linen tablecloth. A bottle of Kulkan wine stood next to the goblet.
"Beata," I said with a sigh as I looked behind me. The soldiers were eating out of wooden bowls and drinking beer from wooden cups. "You can't expect me to sit up here, do you?"
"I told Mark it was a bad idea, yes," she said with a knowing smile. "Go on, then. Grab yourself a place. I'll get this cleaned up."
I took her hand and winked. "Take that bottle for yourself. Queen's orders."
"I'll save it for when Kat comes back," she said softly.
While Beata cleaned up the head table, I retrieved a bowl and some stew then walked through the soldiers until I found an empty spot. I plopped down unceremoniously and began to eat. The soldiers quieted around me, and I glanced up at their shellshocked faces.
"What?" I asked.
"Is it…true?" one brave soul asked.
I swallowed. "Is what true?"
"Are you really The Veil?"
The clatter around me stilled as all gazes in the room landed on me—a feat, considering I was in the middle of them.
I finished chewing on the gristle in my mouth and took a long swig of the beer. "Yep."
A cheer erupted then the deluge of questions began. Did I really sink a ship? Had I really fought Captain Llobrega in the castle? Had I really flown from one city to the other?
"I've done a lot of things, but flying isn't one of them," I said with a laugh.
I did my best to answer them, being vague when it suited the mystery of the story, and coming clean when it wasn't. We stayed in the dining tent for hours then ventured out to one of the many bonfires as I kept my audience riveted.
"All right, all right," Jorad said, coming to the table. "Her Majesty has had a long day."
I hadn't been tired until he'd said so, and a yawn escaped my lips. The past few days had finally caught up with me, and I followed Jorad to one of the nicest tents in the camp.
"It's not much but—"
I didn't hear what he said, falling to the cot and closing my eyes.
I slept better than I had in ages, and the next morning woke to the sound of the breakfast bell. I pulled myself out of the cot and washed my face with the water and pitcher that had been left for me. I couldn't recall the last time I'd had a real bath—perhaps Neveri. I took some time to wash the rest of me before changing into a fresh tunic.
Having been surviving on one meal, I wasn't hungry, so I bypassed breakfast to explore more of the camp. A line of clothes near a creek wafted in the breeze, next to that a vat with a fire underneath it. Closer to the center of camp, another fire smoldered in what appeared to be a smithing hut.
Beyond the mess hall, two bare-chested men fought with wooden swords, clashing and swinging with focused effort. If I hadn't known better, I would've sworn they were trying to murder one another. But once the match ended with one on the ground, a blade to his chest, friendly smiles broke out and the winner reached down to pick up the loser.
"You're looking good," I called out to them.
"Your Majesty!" one of the soldiers cried, calling his friends to join me in their circle. They introduced themselves one by one, but I could no sooner remember their names than any of the others I'd heard today. Still, their energy was infectious, and I still nursed the urge to beat something up.
"So, who wants to go a round with me?" I asked, walking to the open trunk on the edge of the ring. I frowned—only broadswords. Not my favorite weapon, as the weight made it hard to use in a fistfight.
One soldier let loose a belly laugh. "It wouldn't be very good for us if we beat our queen."
I pointed the sword at him. "You're first."
His name was Enos, and he clearly considered me an easy match. But I had some energy to burn, and wiping a smug smile off someone's face felt oddly appropriate.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
I swung the sword. "Let's go."
He thundered toward me, and I blocked him just in time. My arms shook as he pressed down on me, clearly superior in strength. On my knees, I couldn't use my legs to knock him over again, and my arms w
ere otherwise occupied.
But at the same time, he was pressing all his weight on me, so if I removed the weight…
In one move, I allowed his sword to come down on mine, scooting out from underneath it and letting the joined blades hit the ground. I left the sword and dropped to a crouch, swinging my leg around and knocking him over. A cheer erupted from the group as I rolled forward to my sword, but…it was still heavy.
Screw this. I reached behind me for my slingbag, but it wasn't there—it was back in Forcadel. I realized this just as the wooden sword landed against my neck.
"The bout is mine!" Enos cheered.
"Indeed," I said with a thin smile. "Seems I'll have to get used to being queen instead of The Veil."
"And it's a good thing you have so many soldiers at your back," Jorad said, reaching down to help me up. I hadn't noticed he'd arrived, but a group of soldiers had gathered behind him. "Perhaps you should get cleaned up? I'm sure Captain Mark wants to have more strategy sessions with you."
"I'd rather get used to fighting without knockout powders and my crossbow," I said, picking the sword up from the ground. "Who's next?"
I fought no less than twenty matches, with Jorad taking me on twice and Enos coming back for thirds. By the end of the day, I was dripping in sweat, but I'd successfully stopped reaching for my slingbag and become as used to the sword as I'd been with anything else. It was still a slower fight than I'd have liked with the heavy sword, but I couldn't be disappointed. Tomorrow, I'd get better, and the next day even better.
As I was finishing my last bout, I felt a pair of eyes on me. Captain Mark was standing in front of his tent, his arms folded across his chest and a look of dismay on his face. The look on his face was telling enough, so I brushed myself off and joined him inside his tent.
"You seem to be settling into the camp," he began.
"I am," I said. "The soldiers seem well-equipped and content. I suppose I have you to thank for that."
"Indeed," he said, bowing. "Unity is achieved with order and rigor. Which is what I wanted to speak with you about. I'm concerned about your decorum around the soldiers."
I quirked a brow. "My what?"
"You're too easy with your subordinates, too quick with your tongue. Sitting at the table with them, instead of at your rightful place before them…it may send the wrong message."
"Sitting with my troops sends the wrong message?" I asked. "I seem to recall Felix doing the same thing. He lived with them."
"Felix wasn't queen," Mark said. "Crowned or not, you're ours, and you'd better start acting like it."
And here I thought I was. "I will do my best."
"Good girl," he said.
It was all I could do not to deck him.
Chapter 18
Katarine
As promised, Maarit was executed in the town square in the morning. Ilara had forbidden anyone from speaking about what she'd done, except to say she'd betrayed the country. And once Maarit's body had been removed from the town square, Ilara would entertain no more conversation about it.
The Kulkan envoys who'd arrived with Maarit had been expelled from the castle, but I'd asked Luisa to keep tabs on them. I didn't trust her as far as I could throw her, but if she wanted to pretend she was in my employ, she could run errands for me. She reported that they were staying at an inn near the water and had no intention of returning to Kulka until they'd met with the queen.
Ilara, however, entertained no conversation about them, even going so far as to cancel our last few weekly sessions. And I still had no clue why she'd given the order to bring Brynna back alive. I was losing my insight into the inner workings of her mind, and that was cause for alarm.
How I longed for Beata, and our nightly strategy sessions. She always had a way of keeping me out of my own mind. And problems seemed so much less complex when considered from the warmth of her arms.
Instead, I had to settle for Luisa and her fake friendship. She had taken to meeting me in the small dining area of my suite for breakfast every morning. It seemed every morning she arrived earlier and earlier.
"Oh, wipe the frown from your face, Lady Katarine," she said, her dark eyes brimming with excitement. "Today is a very special day."
"Mm." I took a long sip of my coffee. It hadn't tasted the same since Beata left. "Is it?"
"Of course!" She wore an honest grin, and it drew a smile onto my face. "Today is the start of the Geestig festival!"
"I apologize," I said. "I'm unfamiliar with the event." Then again, before Ilara invaded, I'd known nothing of Severian customs or traditions.
"It may not seem like it here," Luisa said, rising to her feet, "but in the desert, this is the time of year when the geestig flowers bloom. It's a celebration of Severian resilience and life. See, the flowers are small, but it seems the entire city is blanketed in their sweet smell. They crop up out of the clay stone roadways and between crevasses in walls. We make tea out of them, and it doesn't need a cube of sugar." She clapped her hands together. "Men and women wear crowns of flowers made by the children, and we dance and make merriment for days."
"How do you offer salutations?" I asked. "Happy… Gastig?"
"Oh, you'll get the pronunciation," she said with a laugh. "But yes, Happy Geestig."
The wistfulness in her voice eroded some of my carefully constructed walls. "It sounds magnificent."
"It is," she said. "Ilara told me she tried to grow the geestig flowers here, but the ground was too moist. Can you believe that?" She turned and smiled at me. "A flower that can't grow in Forcadel's fertile soil."
"It seems a plant made for the desert," I said.
"But flowers can be trained to live elsewhere," she said, turning back to the window. "You are a mountain-dweller, made for elevations and snow. Yet you thrive here."
"With help," I said with a soft smile. "How will you be celebrating today?"
"Queen Ilara will be taking a ride in the city," Luisa said. "She's asked us to accompany her on horseback."
"I thought it was too dangerous to venture out," I said, genuinely curious. Ilara had barely set foot outside the castle since she'd invaded, thanks to the riots and unrest. There hadn't been a significant change, or so I thought. Perhaps she was just feeling more confident lately.
More concerning was that Ilara had planned an entire festival and I'd had no idea about it. I would have to start asking more questions of the servants.
"Today is a very special day for Severians," Luisa replied, walking to the window. "It wouldn't do for our queen to remain behind locked doors."
"Indeed."
Luisa helped me dress in a shapeless cotton shirt and wide trousers that hung to my ankles. On my feet, she tied on a pair of leather sandals, exposing my toes to the world. But she wore the same, so I accepted this new experience.
"You'll get used to walking in sandals soon enough," Luisa said.
"They seem to be giving me something of a blister," I replied, resisting the urge to adjust them again. "It's a good thing we're riding."
We came out to the courtyard, which was already bustling with people. Most of the servants wore the same trousers and shirts, but the soldiers were dressed in their finest dark brown uniforms. Many of them wore medals on their breasts along with the Severian crest. A few were on horseback, but the majority were on foot. Coyle was among them, one of a small number of Forcadelians in the mix.
"Will they all be joining us?" I asked Luisa.
"Of course! There will be a mile parade around the castle, just like in Severia."
The soldiers eased some of my worry about venturing into the city, but I still worried so many swords with so much unrest was a recipe for disaster.
"Good morning, ladies," Coyle said, walking over to us and saluting. "It's a wonderful day for Geestig."
No issue with pronunciation there. "You seem well-acquainted with this tradition for a Forcadelian, Coyle."
"It's my job to know everything there is to know about my soldier
s," he said, leveling an unfriendly glare in my direction. "They've been talking about this for weeks on end. You must get out of the castle more."
The meaning in his words was clear by the look in his eye. He knew that my position as Ilara's second was slipping, and he wasn't going to do a damn thing about it. But I wouldn't have expected anything less from him.
"Captain Coyle, you certainly wear a Severian uniform well," Luisa said, flashing him a smile. "We're so fortunate that you're here, leading our troops and keeping our city safe. Things have surely turned around as of late, haven't they?"
"Indeed they have," he said.
I kept my tongue, but questions exploded in the back of my mind. Surely, I would've heard if something had occurred in the city. My communications hadn't been cut off for so long.
"Excuse me," Coyle said, leaving us to climb the stairs.
At the top, he put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly, catching the attention of the soldiers. They turned on their heel to face him, resting their hands behind their backs.
He cast a wary look out among the group. "Her Majesty, Queen Ilara Hipolita Särkkä of Severia."
Ilara appeared behind him, dressed for the occasion in a Severian military uniform adorned with medals. On her head was a crown that seemed almost out of place…I had to swallow a gasp. It was Maurice's. August and Brynna's father. The last I'd seen it was on his head as they closed the coffin at his memorial service.
It was all I could do not to be ill.
Ilara carefully walked down the stairs, her head held high and the heavy gold crown perfectly balanced on her head. Once she reached the bottom of the stairs and Coyle was there to help her into the open air carriage. The same one August and I had ridden in after we'd wed.
I kept my breathing steady as Luisa and I approached the carriage.
"You look magnificent, Your Majesty," Luisa said, beaming from ear to ear. "Truly, our queen is majestic and has no equals."
"Lady Katarine," Ilara said, catching me with her scrutinizing gaze. "You look a bit pale."
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