The Rebel Queen

by Jenny McKane

  He was as much a part of her story as Skyresh was. As they were a part of each other’s stories. Together, they formed a circle, which had sometimes broken, but was always destined to link together once again.

  She turned her head, gazing at Everard. She was still a little shocked to see that he wasn’t gazing at her with that perpetual look of love in his eyes. Today, he was staring at Minna, and she was staring straight back at him. The connection hummed between them so loudly it was almost deafening.

  She accepted it. She loved Everard like a brother; she knew that now. His love for her had been constant and true, but it hadn’t benefitted either of them. And she had never been able to love him in the way that he had wanted.

  Had Skyresh noticed? She narrowed her eyes, searching his face for any sign that he knew and was heartbroken. But there was nothing there. He seemed content to let Minna ride by Everard’s side. And she had barely seen him with Minna since they had been liberated from the house.

  How it would all play out was beyond her. At a different time, they might have had the leisure to explore what was happening between them all, but this was not the time now.

  It was time for battle. It was time to finally confront Agnor and his inner circle once and for all.

  She shivered slightly. She had only met Agnor once when she had been commended at the Palace for luring Skyresh and the others to the Jarle safe house in the Far North, which had led to their arrest. The ruler of Agnoria had been cold and calculating, looking to trip her up. He trusted no one; that was obvious.

  And then she shivered again. Agnor’s inner circle included the man whom she had always believed was her father, the Minister for the Military. Minister Lund had taken her from her real family and killed them. He had lied to her, as had his wife. The woman that she had once called Mother.

  Could she see them again? And could she kill them if she had to?

  She had not thought of it—up until now. She had pushed those thoughts away, if they ever threatened to stray into her mind. The possibility had been so remote—up until now. She was in the Far North, and they lived in the city, near the Palace. Hundreds of miles from each other.

  She had loved them once, although she had never liked them. They had tried to change her from when she was young and mold her into what they wanted. An obedient daughter, who should be lady like and searching for a good husband. They had never understood her burning desire to be a warrior.

  Even though they had known, of course, that it was in her blood. She was the last in a long line of Anasta warrior queens. The queens that they had all killed. Her real mother and her grandmother among them. She still grew angry and hot at the thought.

  She squared her shoulders. Was that it in the distance? Yes, it was. The High Wall. The barrier between the North and the South of Agnoria. Of Masgata, she corrected herself. Agnoria would soon be no more and the realm of Masgata would finally be restored.

  She swore it on the lives of her mother and her grandmother. Those fallen Anasta warrior queens, who had given up their lives in defense of the realm.

  She would avenge them. She would watch her enemies blood flow and say all fallen Mothers’ names above it.

  ***

  Skyresh pointed toward the Wall. “They have seen us, Avalon,” he called.

  She gazed to where he was pointing. Yes, they had been spotted. The guardians were scrambling to action, running around furiously.

  The Jarle had been taken by surprise. Now, they needed to advance quickly and trust that the force surrounding the High Wall was compromised by the spell.

  A bell sounded in the far distance. It was their call to arms. Soon, the Wall would be swarming with Jarle, who ready to defend the usurpers.

  Avalon turned around, facing her army. The people, animals, and new creatures all stopped, gazing at her. Once again, she was overwhelmed by the sight of them all. Once, this had only been a dream. Once, the animals had been imprisoned in the Outlying Zone, and the new creatures had served the Black Witch.

  They had united them all. Natural allies and new ones. All with a common goal—to reclaim the realm.

  She drew her sword, raising it high in the air.

  “The time has come,” she cried. “The force has been breached. We are marching into the South and reclaiming our brothers and sisters’ birthrights! Stay strong, my people! Fight like you have never fought before. Victory is ahead of us. We must rush to claim it!”

  There was a mighty cheer, almost deafening. The warriors raised their swords, high in the air. The animals were restless, stomping the ground and flapping their wings.

  “For Masgata!” she cried.

  “For Masgata!” they echoed, cheering louder.

  She turned Sidsel and started advancing. She could hear the war cries of the warriors, rushing behind her. Skyresh matched her pace for pace, as they flew like the wind towards the Wall.

  She could see the winged creatures that breathed fire—high above her. They were surging forward with their balls of fire in their claws. She held her breath. This was the moment when they would attempt to fly over the Wall. A part of her regretted that she wasn’t riding one of them. She had done so many times previously; she well remembered the night she had flown on one of their backs into Vyheim Castle.

  It had been one of the most exhilarating moments of her life.

  Almost there. Would they fly through, or would they bounce straight back?

  They passed over, gliding into the South as if they owned it. Avalon let out a holler of joy. It had worked! The spell had finally breached the force. They were free to scale the High Wall. Tears of joy fell down her face. She had thought that this moment would never come.

  Behind her, there was a mighty roar, as all the warriors and animals celebrated the successful breach.

  Avalon could see the Jarle guardians gathered, ready to defend. They raised their bows and arrows into the air, waiting for the command, but as they waited, a ball of fire hit them so suddenly that the guardians flew in all directions. The first attack had been a success! That section of the Wall was burning.

  They rushed forward, swords raised. She could see warriors already scaling the Wall and dropping onto the other side. She spurred Sidsel on, harder. By her side, she could see Hansa leaping onto a guardian, latching onto the man’s neck.

  A guardian spotted her, his eyes widening. “The Rebel Queen!” he yelled.

  With a mighty roar, he jumped on top of her from a high end of the Wall, causing her to topple from Sidsel.

  She scrambled for her sword, springing quickly to her feet. She raised her sword, facing the man. He lunged. She had to jump back quickly, as his sword grazed her left side. That was close. She went on the attack, fiercely diving into the fight. The man was good; he wasn’t about to give up. She could feel sweat running down her face and into her eyes.

  He was getting the upper hand. With an almighty burst of energy, she broke free and managed to plunge her sword into this chest. At the same moment, Hansa had sprung and was on the man. She could hear him moaning, as the wolf held him by the throat.

  Smoke was billowing into the air, and flames were licking the sky. Sections of the Wall were toppling down, crushing people beneath.

  She glanced around quickly. Where were the others? She could see Skyresh, fighting a guardian on a section of the Wall, but she couldn’t see Everard or Minna. Escolen? Yes, he was off in the distance, fighting like a demon.

  This was always the best time but also the worst, wondering if your fellow warriors were still alive. However, she knew that there was nothing she could do. She just had to wait and see what the fallout would be once the battle was over.

  She raised her sword and with a bloodcurdling cry ran back into the fray.

  ***

  The battle was over. They had defeated the Jarle forces on the High Wall and were now on Southern soil.

  Escolen had done his job. On the other side of the Wall, groups of southern Stromel had joined the
m, fighting alongside them. Their numbers were growing.

  Avalon panted, gazing at the destruction all around. Out of the midst, she could see Skyresh walking toward her slowly. He was smeared in blood and dirt, but she could see that his vivid blue eyes were gleaming with triumph.

  Her heart lurched and a flood of relief washed over her. He was safe!

  And now she could see Everard, staggering forward. He had a long gash on his right cheek, and he was limping, but he was alive and not seriously injured. Beside him, Minna walked slowly out of the carnage. The young woman had barely a scratch on her. That was one thing about Minna – she was a fierce fighter.

  Skyresh had reached her side. “We did it, Avalon,” he hissed. “We’ve scaled the Wall, at long last.”

  She gulped and nodded. She was so parched that she could barely speak. It seemed almost surreal to her now. This victory had been dangling before them for so long, a carrot just out of reach. That they had finally succeeded made her head spin slightly. Was it real?

  “We have to keep pushing forward,” said Escolen, who had just joined them. “They will be gathering more forces. This was easy because they weren’t prepared. They will be now. We have to keep moving and advance on the city before their forces are ready.”

  Avalon nodded. “You are right,” she whispered. “Everyone is tired, but we have to capitalize on our success. We have to keep moving.”

  The command was given, and they started the journey toward the city.

  It was strangely still, as the army moved on. Avalon glanced back, watching the giant plumes of grey smoke filling the air around the High Wall. The calm before the storm? Or the road to complete victory?

  At last, they saw the city skyline in the distance. This was it.

  Agnor was there. All the top echelon of the Jarle. The Palace. She remembered when she had been a girl, amazed at the beauty and splendor of the Palace. Her father had taken her past it often, and they had often attended rallies and ceremonies in Grey Square, which was just in front of it. She knew the city like the back of her hand. It had been her home, after all, for most of her life.

  It glittered like a jewel, just beyond her reach. She had come to claim it.

  “What is the plan?” asked Skyresh, who had ridden up to her, interrupting her reverie as she gazed at the skyline.

  “Attack,” she said simply. “We ride into the city and defeat it.”

  “So be it,” he said. “This is the moment, Avalon. This is the moment that the storytellers and bards will speak of in years to come.”

  She gazed at him. A lump had formed in her throat. She believed what he said. She was confident in their forces. They had the numbers. The High Wall was defeated, and now the only thing stopping them from overthrowing the Jarle completely was this city.

  She offered up a prayer to the Goddess for victory.

  She took a deep breath and raised her sword, again.

  “The city is before us,” she cried, turning to the army behind her. “We will show no mercy. We will ride into it as if on wings and finally defeat the Jarle!”

  A mighty roar sounded, and the army raised their swords as one.

  Avalon spurred Sidsel on, down the dirt track and towards the city. She could hear the thundering hooves of the Stromel army behind her.

  They were advancing. The city was getting closer. She could see the shocked faces of people, standing on the side of the road, whizzing by. And then there came a sound that warmed her heart, spurring her on to greater exhilaration.

  They were cheering. The people were throwing their veils and hats into the air.

  “May the Goddess bless you, our Queen!” they cried.

  Avalon crouched down lower on Sidsel, trying to blink away tears.

  Afterwards, she couldn’t say when the exact moment was when it happened.

  One minute, she was on Sidsel, galloping into the city.

  And the next, they were both on the ground, winded.

  She slowly raised her head, confused. What was going on? And then she knew.

  The Jarle had been preparing for their arrival. They had constructed a magical force around the city so that they couldn’t ride into it—just like the force that had surrounded the High Wall.

  The Stromel army couldn’t get in.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “So that is the Rebel Queen? I heard that she was a beauty.”

  Avalon could hear a man’s voice, close to her. For a moment, she couldn’t remember. Where was she? What had been happening? She tried to open her eyes, but a strong instinct stopped her, just in time.

  Another man laughed. “I remember her from when she was still a guardian,” he said. “The great Avalon Lund, the best at the Academy in her year—and look at her now.”

  “Agnor will be pleased,” said the first man. “Will we take her straight to him?”

  “Yes,” replied the other man. “He will want proof that she is really dead. And then he will want to display her body so that all can see where rebellion leads.”

  Avalon felt a stab of alarm, but she kept her eyes tightly shut. Why were they saying she was dead? And where was the army?

  It was all coming back to her now. Their advance on the city. And then, she had been thrown off Sidsel by a forcefield. She remembered Skyresh toppling to the ground, and Escolen. All of them.

  She was being picked up by the men. They placed her on a stretcher. Had she been injured, and they assumed she was about to die? But why then would they speak as if she were already dead?

  They placed her down somewhere else. She could feel a cold breeze on her skin. And then a lurching movement. She was on the back of a wagon, travelling along a potholed road. The wagon lurched, careering to the side. Alarm shot through her and an overwhelming dread. Where were the others? What had happened to Skyresh and Everard?

  But it was coming back to her slowly.

  The forcefield had knocked them all down, and then they had been ambushed. The Jarle had suddenly attacked. They had been forced to retreat, fleeing into the outlying woodlands.

  They had regrouped and pondered their options, and that was when a wild plan had formulated in her mind.

  “They have blocked us,” she had said bitterly. “A sudden force around the city. The sorceress must be here.”

  “What are we going to do?” Skyresh had said, slamming his fist into a tree. To have come so close…and now this!

  Avalon had racked her mind, but he couldn’t think of a thing – at least not for now. They would have to fully retreat and plan another attack on another day. She would have to work with Mother Asta to defeat this new spell. It would take more time…unless she could find a way to get through the force without defeating it? For now?

  She turned suddenly, her eyes wide.

  “I think I know a way,” she said slowly. “It is risky, but it’s all I can think of.”

  “What is it?” Everard was gazing at her, his dark eyes anxious.

  She had taken a deep breath. “I know a spell,” she said. “A relatively simple one, which doesn’t require a long, involved ritual, or the power of more than one to accomplish it. It is called the Near Death Spell. It was one of the first that Mother Asta taught me.”

  “Go on,” said Escolen, staring at her.

  “It would put me in a comatose state,” she said quickly. “To everyone else, it appears as if I am actually dead. My breathing would slow to a point as to be undetectable, and my skin would grow cold. When I choose, I can come out of it.”

  “But how would that help us?” asked Skyresh, frowning.

  “If I can deceive the Jarle and convince them that I am dead,” she said, “they may take my body into the city to the Palace, so that Agnor can witness, with his own eyes, the death of the queen. It would make them believe that they are winning and put them off their guard. And then when I am in the Palace, I could come out of the spell and confront Agnor.” She took a long, shuddering breath. “I could kill him once and for all—an
d then all of this will be over. The dark magic will be gone, and we can ride into the city and take it.”

  No one had spoken for a moment.

  “It is too risky,” Skyresh had said eventually. “We don’t know what they would do with you if they discovered you dead. They might run you through with a sword to make sure. Or they might bury you quickly. Either way, you would really be dead then.”

  “I don’t think they would do that,” said Escolen. “I think Avalon is right – they would take her body as a trophy to their leader. Imagine how they would feel – they finally have the great Rebel Queen—dead! We know what the Jarle are like. They like to parade their executions, as an example to the people.”

  Everard had nodded. “They wouldn’t be able to resist,” he said slowly. “Agnor especially. The chance to show off the defeat of the queen and the end to the rebellion. It would be a great propaganda show for them. It is how they operate.”

  Skyresh had looked unconvinced. He stared at her, not speaking. She could feel fear for her coursing through him like poison.

  “Skyresh,” she had said slowly. “It is our only chance now. If we don’t do this, we will have to retreat. It could be weeks or months before we can advance again. Our chance gone. But this way, I could end all this now, once and for all!”

  His blue eyes glittered. “Alright,” he said slowly. “But I am coming with you. I won’t leave you out in the open alone to be discovered by them.”

  She had shaken her head. “No. I cannot weave the spell for both of us. You could be killed or taken prisoner.”

  “That is a risk I am willing to take,” he hissed angrily. “I am not going to leave you as bait for them without protecting you.”

  They had argued back and forth, but he had been adamant. Eventually, they had worked out how they should do it. They would lay her supposedly dead body out, where there was a Jarle presence. Skyresh would act as if he were injured with her.

  And then they would see what would happen…

  She winced, as the wheel of the carriage fell into a deep pothole, but she didn’t cry out. How much longer until they got to the Palace?