The Oaken Throne

by Sara C. Roethle

  Upon spotting him, she put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. How dare you forget you swore an oath that prohibits our marriage?”

  He walked toward her, moving far enough out of the way for the gates to close behind him. Her curls were puffed out around her head as if she’d been anxiously pawing at them, and her face glistened with sweat.

  “What in the gods are you talking about?” he asked as he reached her.

  She glared up at him. “I’m talking about Slàine, ambushing me and telling me we can’t get married unless I join your order.”

  He burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it.

  Her gray eyes shot daggers at him. “Don’t you dare laugh at me! This is serious!”

  He glanced around to see if anyone was watching them, then held a finger to his lips, though he couldn’t help the final chuckle that emerged. Before Ealasaid could continue yelling, he put an arm around her shoulders and led her further away from the gates, veering left to circle around the main building.

  “Now,” he began calmly as they walked, “please explain to me what in the gods you’re talking about.”

  She turned her head to scowl at him, but continued walking. “I’m talking about the oath you swore when you became an assassin,” she hissed. “You swore to never marry outside of your order to avoid any contractual conflicts.”

  He snorted. “That? I swore my oath when I was but a boy. I don’t even remember half of what it entailed.”

  She sighed and stopped walking. As she turned to him, his arm fell away from her. “It entails you forfeiting your life if you break your oath, which you would be doing in marrying me.”

  Finally, he felt compelled to return her scowl. “But you don’t even want to get married, so what does it matter?”

  Her eyes opened so wide he thought they might pop out of her head. “Why would you think that!” she gasped.

  He rolled his eyes. “You change the subject every time I bring it up.”

  She blinked up at him, stunned, then her tears began to fall.

  “Now why are you crying!” he hissed, slipping his arm around her shoulders once again to lead her somewhere more private.

  She allowed him to guide her only a few more steps, then stopped and pulled away to look up at him. At least they were near the far side of the estate now, where few guards were posted to watch them.

  “Do you really want to know why I avoid the subject?” she sobbed, her tears flowing freely.

  He fought to keep his expression hard, though her tears clawed at his insides. “Yes, I do.”

  She glared, though the effect was lessened by cheeks glistening with moisture. “I avoid the subject because marriage is supposed to be a joyous occasion where you are surrounded by family and friends. If you haven’t noticed, I don’t have any friends, and my entire family was slaughtered on Oighear’s command.”

  His expression softened. He truly was daft at times. Here he’d thought it had been something he’d done. That she’d realized she was about to marry an ex-assassin and had thought better of it. He was such a fool.

  Heedless of any who might be watching, he pulled her into his arms, gently cradling her face against his chest. Her tears soaked his shirt.

  “Just tell me what you want me to do,” he muttered, at a complete loss for any other words.

  She pulled away enough to look up at him. “Tomorrow night I will swear whatever oath Slàine wants me to swear, then we will get married.”

  He frowned, now thoroughly confused. “I thought you said you didn’t want to get married because it wouldn’t be a happy occasion.”

  She shook her head. “I thought that until it seemed Slàine was going to prevent our marriage from ever happening. When she said that—” she shook her head, casting her gray eyes downward. “When I thought I would not be able to marry you, I realized I don’t want to wait another moment. I want to do it now.”

  Still a bit confused, he removed one arm from her waist to place his fingers under her chin. He pushed up gently until she met his gaze. “I would have married you yesterday, or any day before that, but you needn’t swear an oath to Slàine. She will not actually kill me.”

  Ealasaid laughed, though it sounded a bit like a sob. “No, I’ll swear her oath. I like the promise that she won’t kill me in my sleep.”

  He grinned. He quite liked that promise too. His hand still on her chin, he leaned down and kissed her.

  Suddenly, it didn’t matter if townsfolk recognized him enough to wave, or if he had to behave himself around infuriating sorceresses. He’d accept his new life happily, in exchange for spending it with the fiery, sometimes confusing woman in his arms.

  Finn stood on the parapet, her eyes trained in the direction of the Cavari, though she could not actually see them past the wall. She barely noticed the damp, icy air stinging her cheeks.

  She knew she needed to speak with them soon. To come up with a plan before they turned on her. She’d bested them once, but the effects of that battle would only last for so long. She turned her gaze down to the courtyard where Loinnir grazed, free of her stable. Finn could have sworn the unicorn had spoken directly into her mind on multiple occasions, but in recent times, the beast had been calm and quiet. Waiting, just like everyone else.

  Finn longed for word from the Pixies searching for Kai, but she knew it was likely too soon. They’d only just left the previous day, and the morning sun had only just begun to shine above the treetops.

  She heard shuffling footsteps at the door behind her, then turned to see Àed approaching, his expression sour, like usual. Still, he looked far better than when he’d first come to the fortress. His long silver hair had been combed free of knots, and his shapeless gray robe had been cleaned.

  She met his sky blue eyes with a smile. “You’re up early.”

  He hobbled toward the edge of the parapet and leaned his arms against the low wall beside her. “I could say the same for yerself.” He looked her up and down. “Or perhaps ye didn’t sleep at all.”

  She grimaced. She hadn’t slept well for ages. She actually preferred the nights she ended up in the Gray Place in her dreams, otherwise her dreams were filled with the horrors of her past. Her daughter’s death. Her curse upon Iseult’s people. Sometimes her dreams were about the more recent past, about forsaking the peace she so desired in favor of fighting to protect those she now cared about.

  Àed watched her, a knowing expression creasing his already lined face. “Nightmares lose their power when ye come to terms with the things that are haunting ye.”

  She shivered at his words. “Far easier said than done.”

  He chuckled, then turned his gaze out toward the courtyard. “Yer right about that, lass, which is why I must speak with ye. I think it’s time that I leave.”

  She turned to face him, shocked. “But we only just got you back.”

  He nodded, his eyes still distantly settled on the greenery beyond. “I know, lass, but ye no longer need me, and there are things in me own life I must settle.”

  “Things?” she questioned.

  He nodded. “Ye have yer ghosts, I have mine. Seeing me daughter once again made me realize as much.”

  She watched him, the wheels in her mind turning. “You want to find her again. You want to try to save her, even after all she has done?”

  He snorted. “Yer far more perceptive than ye used to be, lass.”

  She couldn’t help her smile, though her heart ached at the thought of him facing Keiren. She’d not seen the sorceress since she and Ealasaid had found her in the Gray Place, so there was no saying what Keiren was plotting currently. She ran her fingers across the collar of her thick, cream colored tunic forlornly. She supposed it wasn’t entirely her business.

  “She’s likely still in Garenoch with Ealasaid,” she explained with a sigh, “so you should not have terribly far to journey.”

  He raised a bushy white brow at her. “No arguments on me leavin’?” />
  She smirked. “You have your ghosts, I have mine. I cannot prevent you from doing what you need to do. I only wish Iseult could understand such a concept.”

  He shook his head. “Ye should listen to the lad. He’s a good balance to yer . . . impulsive side.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Speaking of, I’ll be off. I’ll come to see ye before I go.”

  Finn followed Àed’s gaze to see Iseult, now waiting behind them. She hadn’t heard him approach. Then again, she rarely did.

  Without another word, Àed ambled off, past Iseult into the open door leading through her chamber and into the fortress beyond.

  With Àed gone, Iseult quietly took his place beside her on the parapet.

  She eyed him askance, wishing she could read him as easily as she did Àed.

  “Waiting for the Pixies?” he asked.

  She turned her eyes back toward the courtyard and nodded. “Among other things. Àed plans to leave us.”

  Iseult nodded. “He spoke with me as well. Bedelia intends to go with him.”

  Finn clenched her jaw. Was everyone going to leave her? Did Bedelia truly want to see Keiren too, even after she’d controlled and mentally abused her? Did everyone think she no longer needed them, now that she had the Cavari and droves of Faie under her command? She did need them. She needed all of them.

  “I suppose next you’ll say that you’re leaving too,” she said caustically, still angry that Àed had not mentioned Bedelia.

  “You know that is not the case,” he said evenly, “as much as you might sometimes wish it.”

  She felt her hard expression softening. Did he truly believe that? “Iseult—” she began, then cut herself off, unsure of what to say.

  “Look,” he said, gesturing toward the sky beyond the wall.

  Her gaze turned outward, noticing the little specks of color heading in their direction. In a matter of seconds, three Pixies branched off from their group, zipping downward to hover before her and Iseult.

  “Did you find him?” she gasped, barely able to breathe.

  A male Pixie with green hair shook his head. “Still scouting, but we found something else, far north.”

  Her mind raced. The only thing to the north was Sormyr, the Gray City, and that was a three to four day long ride away. “What did you find?” she asked, shoving away her disappointment at it not being Kai.

  “An army,” the Pixie explained, his two female comrades hovering silently behind him. “Largest army I’ve ever seen. All men too. They must have gathered in the city.”

  “An Fiach?” Iseult questioned.

  The Pixie bobbed in the air as he nodded. “We think so, though fortunately, they do not head this way. They have veered east on the Sand Road.”

  Finn turned wide eyes to Iseult. “Do you think they’re going to Garenoch?”

  He nodded. “That seems a reasonable assumption.”

  Her stomach twisted into knots. Ealasaid may have spurned her friendship, but she still did not wish her harm. “We have to warn them,” she breathed. But how? They’d met in the Gray Place once before, but she had no idea how to summon Ealasaid there.

  “Bedelia and Àed,” Iseult suggested. “If we spare them two more horses, they will be able to travel more quickly than an army. They could arrive in time to warn them . . . if they even need it.”

  Finn blinked at him, confused.

  “She is gathering mages, Finn. She likely does not need our help.”

  She knew he was right, but she could not simply allow Ealasaid to be attacked without warning. With a warning many days in advance, many lives might be spared . . . at least those lives Ealasaid cared about most.

  She turned back to the Pixies. “Thank you for your information. Please keep an eye on the army if you can, but search for Kai as well.”

  The green haired Pixie nodded, then the trio sped back toward the rest of their group, waiting in the distant trees.

  Iseult watched her cautiously. “Please, do not say what I think you’re going to say.”

  “We cannot risk these men attacking at the same time as Oighear,” she argued. “Your brother is in Garenoch too.”

  Iseult shook his head. “I will not argue with you. The choice is yours.”

  She turned her gaze outward. She wanted to find Kai, to wait for Anna to return with him, and to wait for Eywen to return with more Aos Sí . . . but she was finally realizing she had waited long enough. This war would happen whether she liked it or not, and her friends would be caught in the middle. The time had come to act.

  Night had come and gone, and Anna had seen no sign of Kai. The Pixies reported in from time to time, bringing word of an army of men on the Sand Road. With that news, any plans Anna had of using the road for ease of travel were dashed.

  With that in mind, she and Eywen had awoken the next morning to continue riding through the forest, mostly in companionable silence, waiting for any more news that might once again sway their course.

  Eywen rode silently beside her, yet to leave her side, though he was supposed to be branching off to search for more of his kind in the Northeast. Perhaps he feared the human army, but she had not brought herself to ask.

  She tensed as her ears caught the sound of voices not far off. Apparently Eywen had heard it too, for he drew his horse to an abrupt halt. He lifted his hand to signal her to do the same, but she was way ahead of him. An Fiach should not be this far from the road, but there was no telling who else would feel the need to travel in such a remote region.

  They both waited, listening, but the voices did not draw nearer. Whoever it was, wasn’t moving.

  As agile as a cat, Eywen dismounted, his boots landing silently on the forest floor. He then began leading his horse further away from the voices, gesturing for Anna to follow.

  She quickly dismounted. Perhaps she made slightly more noise than Eywen had, but the voices never stopped their indecipherable conversation. She quickly led her horse away, hoping the animal would not snuffle and alert their possible enemies of their presence.

  Once they were far enough away, they both tethered their horses to a tree.

  “You wait here,” Eywen whispered. “I will determine if they are friend or foe, and dispatch them if need be.”

  She put her hands on her hips near her daggers and glared up at him. “I’m just as capable of determining such things. More so, in fact, since they’re likely human, and thus will be more apt to respond positively to me.”

  “Or they are Aos Sí,” he countered with a smile, pushing a strand of black hair behind his pointed ear, “and will skewer you as soon as you approach.”

  “We’ll see about that,” she grumbled, then turned away from him, focusing on the direction the voices had come from. If they had innate magic, she would sense it.

  She focused for several seconds, but felt nothing. She turned back to Eywen. “They are human. I win.”

  Before he could argue, she snuck off, leaving him to watch over the horses.

  She stepped lightly over the rotting leaves and fallen branches littering the ground, weaving her way between trees while listening for the voices. Soon enough, she caught a hint of sound again, changing her path to approach. It sounded like there were only two people, a man and a woman, unless there were more present who did not speak. They weren’t terribly aware of their surroundings if they hadn’t yet sensed they weren’t alone.

  She continued forward, then caught sight of them. The man sat on the ground, his legs crossed, while the woman desperately attempted to build a fire. Both wore threadbare clothes in muted hues, their clothing far too sparse for the cold nights. Just judging by appearances, they seemed like simple country folk, not threats in the slightest . . . but what were they doing way out here?

  She crouched behind a shrub to watch them, hoping to catch a hint of their conversation.

  “We’re never going to find another village this far out,” the man muttered. “Even if we do, the folk that live in the marshes can’t be friendly. W
ho would choose to live in such a wretched place?”

  “Us,” the woman said with a huff, “and anyone else who doesn’t want to be caught up in the coming war. We couldn’t very well stay in a burgh brimming with magic users, now could we? Not with a child on the way.” She stood and rubbed her barely rounded belly lovingly, giving up on the fire.

  Anna shook her head. These people may have made it a long way on their own, but as things looked, they likely wouldn’t survive another week. She spotted their small packs of provisions leaning against a nearby tree. They were probably already almost out of food.

  She sighed, then stepped into the clearing. The least she could do was scare them back to whatever burgh they came from. From the mention of mages, she guessed Garenoch.

  The woman screamed when she saw her, then backed away, her eyes on Anna’s twin daggers.

  The man hopped up from his seat a moment later, dutifully stepping in front of his wife.

  Now that she was closer, Anna noted that they were younger than she’d first thought, likely not past their twentieth years. Both had the sandy blonde hair and freckled skin most common to the southern regions.

  “What do you want?” the man hissed. “We don’t have anything for you to steal.”

  She smirked. “That’s the last thing you should say to a thief.”

  The man reached for a small skinning knife hanging from his belt. Utterly pathetic, Anna thought. She could cut them both down before they could blink.

  Suddenly the pair’s eyes widened, but they were no longer looking at Anna, they were looking behind her. The man’s hand was frozen at his belt, his fingers on the knife, but not drawing it.

  Anna sighed and glanced over her shoulder to find Eywen standing a few paces behind her. “I told you I’d handle it,” she grumbled.

  “Why are you harassing these poor people?” he questioned good-naturedly, moving to her side.

  She scowled. “I’m not! I was simply going to tell them to go back to their burgh if they want to stand any chance of survival.”

  She turned back around to face the couple, both practically trembling in their boots. She supposed Eywen had accomplished her goal. The man and woman were definitely scared pissless now.