Queen Arencaster sat far on the other end, flanked by windows alit with the golden light of winter afternoon. People I assumed were her councilors surrounded her. At the periphery, soldiers, and people dressed in common clothes whose positions I could only guess at. This had to be it, I thought with some excitement.
“My daughter,” Queen Arencaster greeted me. “It’s so good to see you awake. Welcome to the Council of War.”
I smiled and made a brief head bow.
“Please join us,” the queen said. “We are in the midst of the day’s discussion.”
I took an empty chair at the end of the table. “And now Councilor Catonius, as you were saying.” Queen Arencaster nodded at a short, round man, nondescript, except for his mane of lemon-colored curls. Once I started looking at them, I couldn’t tear my gaze away. It had to be a wig, something from Ceredwyn, based on the ringlets’ elaborate ponytail. I couldn’t decide if the bizarre color indicated bold style or a discount.
The councilor cleared his throat. “Ere the Princess graced us with her presence, I voiced concerns regarding King Pharris. None would deny that his capital-trained soldiers are a boon to Arencaster; if not for their aid, Arencaster could not have regained advantage lost in the early days of the war. But…what is his motive?” Despite his comically nasal voice, many in the council room appeared to be giving his insinuation serious thought thought.
“Please elaborate.” Queen Arencaster said in an inviting enough tone, but her eyes challenged him.
“Suppose he…tried to overstep?” Blondie (I’d already forgotten the councilor’s name) said vaguely, as though he were hinting at some scandal.
“King Pharris knows no boundaries,” Queen Arencaster responded icily. “He is liege over Autumnstead because he is the High King. I very much doubt he will abandon direct rule over Ceredwyn, his charge, to rule Autumnstead in the countryside.”
Side conversations murmured and buzzed.
“Would anyone else like to add anything on the subject?” asked a very old man sitting at Queen Arencaster side. Stacks of books and papers surrounded him, and he’d been scribbling away with a quill pen the entire time. I supposed he was some sort of secretary, taking the minutes of the meeting.
“But what if he did?”
“Forgive me, Councilor,” Queen Arencaster said. “But not all individuals are motivated by gain and acquisition. Some, like our High King, will put strategy above direct control and squeezing every speck of wealth from a region.”
“Abundant coin is power,” Blondie responded cryptically. “That is all I was trying to say.”
It was a lot like meetings at Portalis, I reflected through my frustration. Despite all the hours that went into them, it never seemed like we solved many (any) problems. Meetings were just forums for petty disagreements.
“In that vein, suppose that someone were to step up as king? Not that you're aren't doing a stupendous job, my dear,” Blondie said, somehow managing to look down at Queen Arencaster, though she had at least a foot on him. “But war is no burden for a woman, least of all, a woman alone.”
“I'm doing well enough.” Queen Arencaster’s tone turned so chilly, her previous icy disdain seemed tropical by comparison.
“More than well enough!” The tall, well-muscled man who chimed in wore full armor and an ornate sword. I guessed he was one of Autumnstead’s captains. “Queen Arencaster has studied war extensively in her youth and has contributed many strategies that have gained us advantage and saved us from peril. To our cause and kingdom, she is a pillar of strength!”
“Her singularity is why the realm is in this position. That's why your daughter is so — was not…better managed,” Blondie trailed off with a nervous look at me.
“I'll thank you to hold your tongue, Councilor. My daughter has repented before the entire kingdom.”
Whoa! So Queen Arencaster did have some momma bear instincts. I wouldn’t have expected her to stand up for me/Fiona like that. I tried not to smile while Blondie shifted in his chair.
Queen Arencaster went on to say, “If any man could simply seize the throne, Latule would already reign. As matters stand, to become king over Autumnstead, a man must wed me. And a woman is to have but one husband. So I do.” The queen raised her hand, turned it so all could see her golden band. “I yet wear proof of the promise we made that day. And I will never throw it away to accept another!”
“But everyone knows —” Blondie started to say.
“No, everyone believes. There is a difference!”
“You can't still think that the king will return!”
“What other business is on the docket?” Queen Arencaster interrupted, as much pain in her face as I'd ever seen. (This amounted to a slight furrow of her brow. Still, it was big, even expressive, for her.)
Expecting Blondie to pipe up again, I was surprised when a man with a curly, brick-red beard and head hair - the effect was much like a lion’s mane — stood. He were commoner’s clothing, plain, sturdy, with a few patches.
“Two months we have fought Latule,” he said. “Winter has only begun. The war is still early. If we surrender now, Latule will be more inclined to mercy. My family yet lives. Please, Queen and councilors, hear our plea!”
“I hear and understand,” Queen Arencaster said, strong, but without pity. “Alas, I can offer you no comfort except the assurance that I, too, would rather a time of peace. I work each day to bringing this war to a successful end, and I pray that your family finds comfort in that.” She turned to Blondie and several others, also well-dressed, seated near him. “You are sowing your seeds far, it would seem,” she said.
“It is our duty as councilors to present different points of view,” Blondie replied.
“It is a cruel thing to steal others’ hope for your ambition,” Queen Arencaster retorted.
“You have not listened to us. Our message has remained the same, before and after the Latule ultimatum.”
“If you feel that way, why didn't you and your comrades defect to Latule when the ultimatum was issued?” Queen Arencaster asked dryly. In that moment I was certain: she and the councilors had danced this dance before, maybe for years.
“We are not of Latule,” Blondie said. “I am of your house, of Ivenbury.”
“By marriage,” Queen Arencaster said. “And your friends call themselves Arencasters, but that is a designation solely of ink and parchment. Their roots are of Latule as well.”
“By that logic, you are not an Arencaster either,” Blondie pointed out.
“Have you called another vote?” Queen Arencaster said wearily.
“Yes,” Blondie and the meeting secretary said at the same time.
“Why do you waste our time with this?” Queen Arencaster said. “Your movement will be defeated, again, as it has every council.”
“It is a councilor’s duty to make a stand for what he believes is best for the kingdom,” Blondie said in his nasal singsong. “We will continue to fight until what we believe is right has been done.”
While Queen Arencaster’s secretary read what he called “the voting procedure” to the assembly, a page passed out slips of parchment to each councilor, the queen, and me. “Yes indicates you are in favor of ending the war and entering negotiations with Latule. Know before going in that their sights are set upon the crown. No indicates you desire the war continue, come what fortunes may,” the secretary said in his tremulous voice.
With a shaking hand, I wrote no on my slip of parchment.
The page collected the votes and brought them to the old man. He read each vote, one by agonizing one, and tallied the results in his log of the council. I quickly lost track of the totals and found myself reflecting on the irony that the ultimate challenge to Queen Arencaster's way of doing things was the very democratic vote.
“There are 25 votes in favor of ending the war with Latule and coming to terms,” the secretary announced. Blondie beamed; I wonder if he’d done so well before. “There are 27 v
otes to continue the war.” Despite my knee-weakening relief, I mirrored Queen Arencaster’s stony expression, pretending I’d known all along that we’d come out ahead.
“The war continues,” the secretary announced.
“So be it,” Queen Arencaster declared.
“That is the end of the docket, Queen,” the secretary said, lowering the scroll to the tabletop with trembling fingers.
“This council is at an end,” Queen Arencaster declared serenely.
And what a council it had been, I reflected. I had expected a lot of boring talk I couldn’t follow about battle and strategy, but what had happened bordered on Game of Thrones with a dash of Jerry Springer. And Councilor Blondie! What a jerk, to say the least! People like him must've been why Queen Arencaster asked me to impersonate her daughter.
“Let us return to our business. Idle hands can't hope to win wars,” the queen said by way of closing address.
“Is there any news on the investigation, majesty?” a soldier asked.
“Perhaps the war would be quicker won if our resources weren't diverted to paranoid pursuit of spies,” Blondie said, firing off his last poisoned word darts as he passed on his way to the door.
Queen Arencaster didn’t so much as glance in his direction. Her captain, however, started to free his sword.
“No weapons shall be bared in the council room, Sir Wick,” she said.
The captain sheathed the blade with a sigh and ran his fingers through his short brown hair. “Yes, Majesty. Still, I wish I could teach him a lesson.”
“As do I,” Queen Arencaster said. “But the war needs all our strength at this time.” She nodded for me to follow her. We passed several guards patrolling the hallway to the library where we’d spoken at our first meeting. After Valeriya, the heavy-carved furniture and old books seemed more rustic than valuable antiques. Without so much as offering for me to sit down, Queen Arencaster said, “Since we were ambushed in Latule’s woods the other night, I have suspected that not all loyal to Latule have left to join their side. It is to be expected in times like these,” Queen Arencaster said, reading the shock and dismay on my face. “However, such people must be found and routed out, or they shall rot our side from the inside out. I have been investigating for quite some time. I’ve assembled lists of everyone in the Ceredwyn party and all with knowledge of the group and its movements. Most, I have spoken to personally. However, the picture is no clearer than when I began.”
“What about Blondie?” I said.
For a moment, Queen Arencaster looked confused.
“That guy who kept making trouble for you at the council. I don’t remember his name.”
“Ah, Councilor Catonius!” Recognition dawned on Queen Arencaster’s face. “Though my men and I have both questioned him, I could find no evidence that he was involved in the ambush or otherwise with undermining Arencaster. I would turn him out and send him to Latule simply on instinct, but I believe that justice is a better method of rule than fear.”
“I hope you’re able to find the bad people soon,” I said in a small voice. Only last night, I’d felt safe inside the castle. But the possibility of the enemy among us almost made me want to retreat to the snowy woods. At least there, the Latules wore colors that signified who they were.
“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Queen Arencaster said. “And you’ve returned to the castle. I must admit, your ability to survive difficult situations surprised me.”
Now that I was safely back in Autumnstead, I had to smile at the queen’s implication: she thought I was too fragile to weather the ambush and winter wilderness. It was nice to know I had defied her expectations.
“I had help getting back: a guardsman who has protected me since the Latule forest and Reldion le Valen.”
“Ah, Reldion.” Queen Arencaster sounded amused. “He is a very colorful man. What are your plans, now that you are back?”
“Plans?”
“Autumnstead is at war. I don’t suppose you have any experience of it.”
I shook my head. For a change I didn’t feel inadequate admitting to her that I didn’t know something.
“I will be honest with you,” Queen Arencaster said.
As you always are, I thought.
“The songs and stories speak of the glories of war to make the horrible parts bearable. Death, disease, starvation… I would not hold it amiss if Princess Fiona were to disappear again. Although you have done good things for my land and people, this is not your fight, nor is it your obligation.”
“I want to stay,” I said. “I’ve come to care about Autumnstead and the people here. And…I think their morale will be better with the princess here.”
“You are a woman of honor,” Queen Arencaster said. I gazed at her, surprised. She sounded…proud of me. Her eyes, normally so piercing and commanding were softened with affection. “May I broach a sensitive subject?”
“Yes?” I said, wincing as I did so. Gerry had always said it made me sound unconfident to end sentences as questions.
“Word has come to me about your loss.”
My loss? Oh. Faxon and Tolliver had told her about Gerry. In the queen’s regal voice, it sounded so official, so…final.
“I wish I’d been braver.” Suddenly my limbs had turned to lead, and I couldn’t bear the weight of them. I sat down hard in one of the big library chairs; a minute or two more, and it would have been a fall. “If I’d sought him myself—” I started to say in a trembling voice.
“You would have been killed, in all likelihood,” the queen said. Well, her practicality hadn’t changed, anyway. “One untrained girl cannot prevail against a dragon. And consider the power of the rider. It must be unimaginable if the beast would submit to him.”
“You believe in dragons, then?” I said.
“Yes,” Queen Arencaster said. “Why ever would I not?”
“So many do not,” I said, thinking of Lady Ariana and countless professors at the Tower of Valeriya. “Nobles and scholars.”
“Breeding and education cannot overcome the basic ignorance of inexperience,” Queen Arencaster said. “I have seen dragons, and so I believe.”
I wished now I had asked her about the dragons during my first days in Autumnstead. I’d put it off because she’d seemed so imposing. But perhaps it was I who had been easily intimidated? Dragging myself back to the now - an uphill battle through quicksand, I might add - I asked, “How did you come to see them? And when?”
“When my husband King James Arencaster and I were still courting, we saw them twice while hunting. The first time, we doubted our own eyes. As the swiftest riders, we had broken away from the rest of the hunting party. There was no one to confirm our sighting, which was, admittedly, rather distant. It was exhilarating for James and me, witnessing such a rare creature, even at a great distance. Seeing it again became more exciting for us than the hunt itself. The second time, we deliberately drifted away from the hunting party, well out of the path of their quarry. We had packed meat, intending to burn it and draw the dragon to its scent, to us. Reckless, perhaps, but we were young and foolish. We were fortunate the dragon was only curious when it flew over. Had it been hungry, it might have supplemented its meal with us. As it was, we were able to see the bloodstains on its claws, it came so close. More recently, while overseeing my troops engage Latule in battle, I have seen dragons pass overhead.”
Too late. Too late, I couldn’t stop thinking. Why hadn’t we had this conversation before Gerry… “Do you believe the legends of the First People then, too?” I asked in an attempt to distract myself.
“On that point, I cannot be as certain,” Queen Arencaster admitted. “Nothing I have seen or experienced has persuaded me to its truth or fiction.” She must have sensed I wasn’t really listening because suddenly she stopped and just looked at me. Normally such scrutiny made me very uncomfortable. Today it was a lifeline drawing me out of a dark pit of regret and self-accusation.
“Do not blame yourself, Leah
. From what you’ve told me and what I’ve heard, the dragon encounter couldn’t have been random. That young man must have had some tie to this world, possibly to the rider.”
How could that be? As far as I knew, Gerry was born and raised in California, like me.
“His enemies and deeds in other realms had nothing to do with you,” Queen Arencaster said.
I knew Queen Arencaster meant well, but her statement just seemed like nonsense, considering what I knew.
“I must continue the investigation into the Latule spies,” Queen Arencaster said. “I hate to leave you alone, but this is such a critical task; I cannot leave it to anyone else. Is there anything you need? Can I send anyone to you? Tolliver, a servant?”
“No, thank you. I will be all right.” I said. With any servant, I’d have to pretend nothing was wrong when all I really wanted to do was think and think. And Tolliver… It was so tempting to forget my sadness with him. However, I knew that way would only lead to more guilt and regret in the end. Maybe there would be a time when it felt right…one day.
“You are stronger than you think,” Queen Arencaster said as I left.
For a time, I returned to Fiona’s room and lay on her bed, staring into the flames. Memories of Gerry floated in and out of my head, but I couldn’t lose myself in any of them due to the servants’ work. They had requested to enter shortly after my return to straighten the room, add wood to the fire, and anticipate my needs, all under the watch of one of the door guards.
And so I left to wander the castle, seeking rooms and corridors where I might be alone. It proved much more difficult than at Valeriya; compared to the tower, with its endless halls and countless nooks and crannies, Castle Autumnstead was downright cramped.
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