The Rebel Queen

by Jenny McKane

  The sisterhood of the Anasta had to be built and strengthened. Perhaps she could set up an Academy, of sorts, where girls from all over the realm could train. The thought filled her with hope for the future.

  But it didn’t change things now. Avalon stared into the fire. Minna was her enemy. A fellow warrior woman. It shouldn’t be this way.

  “Things must change,” she said, staring at Skyresh. “The bonds of the sisters must be prioritized. There is not enough connection between us.”

  Skyresh stared at her. “You are thinking of Minna, aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “There are personal reasons for that,” she said slowly. “But the fact remains that Minna and I should share a deep bond, even if we aren’t each other’s favorite person. The power of the Anasta lies in the sisterhood, Skyresh.” She took a deep breath. “I have focused too much on my own learning from the Mothers. I have ignored the sisterhood, and that cannot continue.”

  Skyresh continued staring at her, his eyes glittering. “You are incredible,” he whispered. “Is there anything you cannot dream and set in motion? You are a true queen, Avalon; there is no doubt about that in my mind.”

  “It is nice to have your admiration,” she said slowly, “for a change.”

  “You always have my admiration,” he said, his eyes sweeping over her. “I sometimes don’t understand your decisions, but I always admire you.”

  She felt a blush rising from her neck, causing her face to become rosy in the firelight.

  “We’ve found dinner!”

  They both jumped and turned around. Brunn and Niko were standing there, grinning. They each held a bag, both of which were overflowing with mushrooms.

  “I hope you are both good at cooking mushroom stew,” quipped Skyresh. “You have gathered enough to feed an army!”

  Both men laughed, tossing the bags onto the ground and settling by the fire.

  Avalon breathed deeply. She was glad that they had suddenly returned. She saw now that it was dangerous, being so close to Skyresh by herself. Usually Minna would be here and glued to his side. Avalon rarely had a chance to talk to him at length by himself anymore.

  She looked down at the fire, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes upon her.

  ***

  Avalon crept out of the cave, clutching the candle and her amulet in her hands.

  It was ideal conditions, she thought, as she picked her way through the darkness toward the stream. The thunderstorm had finally cleared, and the night was still. A large, full white moon hung in the sky, its reflection wavering in the water. She could smell dampness all around her. It was a strong, earthy smell, perfect for the ritual.

  She peered down at Hansa, who was trotting along by her side, as always. The wolf had known instinctively. As soon as Avalon had crept out of the cave, she had heard Hansa following her.

  On the banks of the stream, she bent down to Hansa.

  Stay here, she said. I must enter the water alone.

  Hansa whined but sank down, watching her mistress. The wolf’s yellow eyes seemed almost iridescent in the darkness.

  Avalon took a deep breath then undressed. The ritual demanded that she be unclothed. When she had shed her clothes, she placed the amulet around her neck and lit the candle. The flame sputtered violently, and for a moment, she thought that it would surely die, but then it rose high into the air.

  She waded into the water, carrying the candle in both hands before her. She gasped as the icy coldness hit her like a thousand needles, piercing her flesh. She took another deep breath and waded deeper until the water was all around her.

  She held the candle high, toward the moon. Then, she started chanting.

  It was an ancient chant, almost as old as time. Mother Asta had told her that the Anasta had used it for centuries. She felt the power of it building. Her head tilted back so that her hair fell around her like a curtain. The amulet started to burn against her skin.

  The chant was making her sway. She could see the flame of the candle blurring in the darkness, and behind it, she saw the moon—so full and beautiful that she almost stopped to admire it.

  She didn’t feel cold anymore. It was as if she were in a warm bath, the water lapping around her.

  The last words of the chant died on her lips, and she closed her eyes. She could see the Goddess, hovering in front of the moon in her mind’s eye.

  She opened her eyes. As if on cue, Hansa let out a perfect howl. She turned, watching the wolf straining toward the moon. Hansa could feel the power and wanted to share in it.

  Slowly, she waded out of the water, still holding the candle aloft. The amulet stopped pulsating against her skin.

  And that was when she saw him, walking towards her.

  Skyresh.

  He stopped suddenly, gazing at her. She lowered the candle and stared at him.

  ***

  Skyresh had not intended to follow her and watch her as she performed the ritual. If she had only told him what she was going to do, he would have understood and let her leave the cave alone.

  But he had awoken suddenly and saw that her sleeping roll was empty. Hansa was missing, too. He had hesitated for a moment, torn between letting her have some privacy and concern for her welfare. Why had she left the cave in the dead of night?

  He had waited a while, but he could not hear her returning footsteps. Eventually, he had crawled out of his sleeping roll and stepped into the night. The storm had passed and a high, full moon lit his way.

  He knew instinctively that she was near the stream. He followed the narrow path down until he could see the water in the near distance.

  At first, he had spied Hansa, sitting watchfully on the banks of the stream. The wolf turned her head, acknowledging him, but then turned back, gazing out at the water.

  And then he saw her.

  She was pale in the moonlight and held a candle aloft. Her long, dark hair fell down her back when she tilted her head. He could hear her soft chanting, competing with the sound of the flowing water. Her amulet hung from her neck, glowing softly in the night. And then Hansa howled at the moon, sending chills down his spine.

  She turned and waded out of the water. He gasped, his eyes widening.

  He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. It was as if the Goddess herself was rising from the water, walking slowly toward him. The most fundamental incarnation of womanhood. He could feel her power, almost coming off her in waves.

  Droplets of water fell from her skin, and he could see her flesh prickling with the cold, but she did not rush. She glided through the water, slowly but surely.

  And then she saw him. She lowered the candle, staring straight at him.

  He was suddenly overwhelmed with embarrassment. Should he turn and quickly walk back to the cave? Pretend that he hadn’t seen her? But that was impossible. He knew that she had seen him watching her. What would she do?

  He couldn’t have turned away in that moment anyway. It was as if his feet were rooted to the ground.

  She slowly leaned forward and blew out the candle.

  “Why are you here, Skyresh?” Her voice was low, but he heard her clearly.

  “I…” he trailed off, looking away. He could feel his face burning. He knew that it wasn’t necessary for her to be alone to complete the ritual, but nonetheless, she had believed that she was.

  “I didn’t mean to intrude,” he said, his face fixed on the water. “I woke up and saw that you were missing. I was worried. You should have told me that you were leaving the cave to perform a ritual.”

  She slowly dried herself and dressed. He kept his eyes fixed in the distance, staring out over the water.

  “I didn’t realize that I had to ask permission,” she said slowly. She bent down and patted Hansa on the head. The wolf gazed up at her adoringly, her yellow eyes transfixed. Then, she took off the amulet.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, turning back to look at her.

  Avalon walked towards him. “There is no
need to say sorry. The ritual isn’t private.”

  He colored, again. “I wasn’t spying on you,” he said quickly.

  “I never thought that you were,” she said, looking him in the eye. “What you saw was your queen, Skyresh. Anyone can witness her doing this. The queen invokes the Goddess’s protection through the purifying passage of the water. That was what I was doing – no more, and no less.”

  He nodded slowly. Yes, she was his queen, performing a sacred ritual, but she was also a woman, a woman whom he desired and loved so fiercely that it threatened to rise and choke him.

  He felt himself swaying toward her, almost against his will. Could he reach out and touch her?

  “It is cold.” She gazed at him, her eyes soft in the moonlight. “We should return to the cave and get some sleep. Hopefully, the protection ritual has worked and some of the darkness that I have been feeling has been dealt with.” She paused. “We need to leave early tomorrow.”

  He nodded. His hand hovered in the air, itching to touch her.

  Her eyes glimmered suddenly with unshed tears, but she turned away and walked quickly back up the track, towards the cave. Hansa bounded along behind her, wagging her tail.

  He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He had been unprepared for the vision that he had seen. It had shaken him to the very core. He didn’t feel as if he was the same man who had walked out of the cave, only a short time prior.

  He knew now. Fully and completely.

  He could not make a formal commitment to Minna. He wondered how he had allowed their relationship to progress so far. Mother Asta had been right. It was unfair on all of them. He didn’t love Minna, not in the way that a man should love a woman. And Minna deserved love; he needed to set her free so that she would be able to find it.

  It was Avalon he loved, body and soul. It was her name that beat like a drum in his chest, invading his blood. It was the vision of her that would sustain him throughout his life. He didn’t want anyone else. He realized that he never had and never could again.

  He sighed. There had to be a way back to her, a way to convince her that they were destined to be together. He had to convince her that there was no other woman for him, now or in the future. His heart had been branded, well and truly, as surely as the tattoos that had been seared into his flesh.

  There could be no more compromise—of that he was very certain.

  He started walking back to the cave. All was silent. Avalon had already crawled back into her sleeping roll, and her eyes were closed. Hansa was lying down beside her.

  He crawled back into his own roll but sleep eluded him. As soon as he closed his eyes, he would see her again. Walking out of the water, like the Goddess, with her candle held aloft. He shivered, despite the warmth of his blanket.

  ***

  Everard opened his eyes, confused. Where was he?

  He had been on a journey, travelling to the Far North. He clearly remembered passing through villages and stopping at the store to buy food. An image flashed through his mind of a statue of the Stromel Goddess, and then being attacked in the woods.

  Suddenly, a woman’s face loomed over him. She was smiling.

  He stared at her, more confused than ever. Was she the woman he saw often in his dreams? Was he dreaming now?

  “Commander Varr,” said the woman, her smile widening. “You must have been exhausted after your long trip. You fell asleep, I fear.”

  He sat up, scratching his head. Now he remembered. He was in the safe house in the Far North. He had been attending a meeting with other high-ranking Jarle. He looked around, disoriented. Where was everybody?

  And the woman. Her name was Disella, and she was Agnor’s daughter. She also seemed to be the leader of their meeting. He gazed at her, his breath catching in his throat. She was so beautiful. He noted the velvet brown of her large eyes, and her long, sweeping hair.

  “That’s right, Everard,” she whispered. “I remind you of someone, don’t I?”

  He frowned. “Yes, but I don’t know who.”

  Disella smiled again. He noticed a small pulse beating in her neck.

  “You do remember,” she said in a silken voice. “You once knew this woman very well. You loved this woman. You would have done anything for her.”

  Everard felt hazy. What was wrong with him? He looked around the room, but it was empty.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said, hesitating. “Where are the others?”

  “Do not concern yourself with them,” she said dismissively. “They have served their purpose.” She gazed at him, frowning slightly. “I think it is time, Everard Varr.”

  “What do you mean?” He couldn’t stop staring into her velvet eyes. It was as if she had tethered him to the spot with her gaze.

  Disella stood up, walking towards the window. Then, she turned back to him.

  She started to chant. At first, it was low, and he could barely hear her, let alone make out the words. Then, her voice started to rise, filling the room. He stared at her, appalled to find that his skin had started to prickle. He felt a coldness seep through him, as if icy water was suddenly running through him.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered.

  But she did not seem to hear him. Her voice rose higher into the air. The words were unfamiliar to him. Was it another language? She had said that she was from another realm.

  Astounded, he watched as a slow mist seemed to envelop her, swirling around her feet. She raised her arms into the air, almost screaming.

  And then she stopped.

  He shook his head slowly. The mist that he had seen was gone. Had he imagined it?

  Suddenly, he felt like he was going to be sick. Desperately, he leaned over, retching. His head spun violently.

  Disella walked slowly towards him, staring down at him impassively. He was collapsed across the floor, clawing the ground with his hands. Small flecks of spittle flew from his mouth.

  “Everard,” she said in a bored voice. “It would not be so painful if you didn’t fight it. Just relax into it and accept what is happening.”

  He took his head in his hands, twisting from side to side. It was as if a sear of light had entered his mind, stabbing at it unmercifully. The pain was almost unbearable. He reached out to her, imploring. She continued to stare at him, not moving.

  “The spell is cleansing your mind,” she said. “Think of it like a purge, Everard. Stripping back layer upon layer until the truth is finally there, shining brightly.”

  He sobbed. Was he going to die? What had she done to him, and why?

  Suddenly, the pain receded, almost as quickly as it had started. The haze started to lift from his mind. He sat up slowly, staring at her.

  “Good,” said Disella. “You are over the worst of it. Remember, you must not fight it, Everard, despite how painful it is.”

  He nodded slowly. What else could he do? He knew now that she had performed some kind of magic upon him. He had scoffed along with the rest at the Stromel folktales of magic, but it seemed that it was real. This woman was a sorcerer.

  He gazed at her fearfully. “What is it you want from me?”

  Disella smiled. “That is easy,” she said, flicking her hair back. “I want information, Everard. That is why you were brought here.”

  “Information?” He frowned, staring at her hard. “Information about what?”

  “About the Rebel Queen, of course,” she said quickly. “You really are a bit slow on the uptake, aren’t you? I expected more of you, I must say. Everyone sang your praises to me, telling me how diligent and exceptional you are.”

  Everard continued staring at her. “The Rebel Queen is my sworn enemy.”

  “Of course,” Disella sighed. “That is the official party line, isn’t it? Tell me, Everard Varr, did you not think it a trifle strange that you were let off so easily and then rose through the ranks so quickly after your disgrace?”

  A cold shiver of unease went through him. Yes, he had
thought it odd.

  “Of course you did,” she smiled. “And it was. People grumbled about it to my father. Why should a man who committed treason be promoted to such a high office? Well, do you know why, Everard Varr?”

  He shook his head, feeling like he was about to be sick again.

  “You are bait, Commander,” she said slowly. “A bait that the Rebel Queen is unable to resist. She is on her way here, as we speak, and when she sees you, her instincts to save you will be reawakened once again.”

  Chapter Ten

  A fine mist hovered over the mountains. It seemed to enshroud them, casting an almost otherworldly atmosphere.

  Skyresh frowned. “This mist is going to make travelling harder, too.” He glanced at Avalon, who was sitting atop Sidsel. “It is strange. It is like the weather is deliberately working against us. First, the thunderstorm, and now this.”

  Avalon gazed at the mist. “It is strange, but there is nothing we can do about it, and we cannot delay any further. We will just have to make the best of it.”

  Skyresh nodded. He continued staring at her, as if he wanted to say something more, then changed his mind. He set off up the mountain track, almost disappearing into the mist.

  Avalon spurred Sidsel on, following him. Things had become awkward between them again—after last night, after he had followed her to the stream and watched her performing the protection ritual. She had seen him glancing at her, as they had prepared to leave the cave that morning, but she had resolutely ignored him, packing up as if it were just another day on their journey.

  And it was, she reminded herself, peering into the mist. They had a mission to accomplish, after all. She couldn’t afford to get swept away by her troubled relationship with Skyresh. However, even though she tried very hard, she could not quite forget how he had looked at her when she had come out of the water last night.

  It warmed her blood, just thinking of it. In that moment, she had just been a woman, and he had been a man. The roles of a queen and her general had been stripped away entirely. Avalon sighed, shaking her head. If only it were that simple. If only she were a regular woman, and he was a regular man. But they weren’t.