by Alex Shobe
We pass the postal tower, set adjoined to the meeting hall. A falcon dives in through the port at the top of the spire, where a waiting keeper will untie the correspondence from the bird’s leg and deliver it to its recipient in the morning.
As we continue away from the square and toward more houses, a door bursts open and a woman runs out. I turn my head and recognize her as Culima. Visually, she hasn’t changed much in the past year. She meets us in the middle of the path.
“Colt? Is that you?” Culima asks. “Oh, my goodness!”
Her voice is as shrill as I remember it. I offer a weak smile as she wraps her arms around me. The pale moon casts shadows onto her face, deepening the fine lines around her eyes and mouth. She releases me from the embrace and keeps her hands on my shoulders, looking down the path we just traveled.
“Is Geoffrey with you?” she asks, her eyes round with desperation. “He hasn’t made it back yet.”
My gaze lowers from hers. Heat flushes my cheeks, and I’m grateful for the lighting of the night. How do I tell her that her son isn’t coming home? That a boy of only twelve years not only died in the arena, but that it was by my hand that his life was ended? My throat goes dry, and I scramble for words.
“No, sorry,” I say, “I haven’t seen him either.” Her hopeful smile drops from my disappointing words. “I’m sure he’ll be home soon, though.” I shouldn’t lie but the grief on her face pulls at the strings of my heart—one good yank and it’ll collapse.
She smiles and touches a hand to my cheek. “Thank you. You’re a good man. Now, you should get home. Your parents’ll be thrilled to see you.”
We walk away, leaving Culima standing at the path, looking downwind in anticipation for her little boy who won’t be coming.
My heart thrashes against constricted lungs. That was much harder that I could have imagined it to be. I should’ve told her the truth. A shiver overwhelms my skin and stops my feet from moving. I double over, my lungs burning with the need to breathe, my nails digging into my kneecaps. A tender hand touches my shoulder.
“Are you all right?” Leona asks. She keeps her hold on my shoulder until I pull myself upright.
I look toward Culima then back to Leona. “I lied. Her son’s not coming home.”
“Well, he could, right?” Leona says softly. “I mean, it took us some time to get here. Maybe he’s on his way—”
“He was killed in the fights.” Aiden regards me with a look of comprehension.
I look at him and nod. “By me.”
I don’t wait for another response from her. She wouldn’t understand. The threat of darkness looms over my head, and the quicker I make it home, the safer everyone will be. I take off down the path.
Leona and Aiden’s footsteps are in sync behind me. A murmur of conversation passes between them, but I keep my focus ahead of me. Around the bend, the familiar sight of my mother’s tiger lilies on the porch slows my pace. I stop in front of my house, take a breath, and climb the short flight of steps. My hand runs over the splintered wood of the door frame, the aftermath of when the guards made forced entry. Pa probably would’ve needed my help to fix it. I drop my head down and sigh, recalling the memories of that night.
The loud boom shook me awake, and my eyes were barely adjusted before I was dragged out of the house. The screams of my mother pierced my ears, the sound of torture lacing her voice as she cried for my innocence. That night, I was arrested for the rape of a woman whom I’d never laid eyes on. ‘She was the wife of a duke,’ they said. When I’d asked the name of the woman whom I allegedly assaulted, the only answer I received was the swift blow of a guard’s fist against my head.
I knock on the door and turn around as I wait. Aiden shoves his hand into his pockets and Leona looks on with uncertainty.
The door creaks open. I keep my face turned away, afraid to see who answers. Is it Ma? With her deep chestnut hair streaked with gray, a new strand for each new stress. Or could it be Pa? A man of very few words, but plenty of heart.
“My boy!” Ma says.
I stiffen as I turn toward her, but when my eyes find hers, I fall into her embrace. She smells of primrose just as I remember. My eyes burn and I blink back tears before they have a chance to fall.
“Roland!” she calls into the house. “Come quick!” She takes my face in her hands, examining me from side to side, as though I may be an illusion. Then, she lifts on her toes and kisses my forehead. The moon’s light reveals thick tears as they roll down her cheeks.
“My goodness...”
The deep voice of my father croons in my ears. Ma releases me and I step toward him. I stand still for a moment, face to face with the man who taught me how to be. The man who took a chance on me when Ma brought me home as a lost child.
Pa’s cane falls to the floor with a hollow thud and he pulls me close. He has never been one to show such gestures, but in this moment, nothing else exists.
Ma catches a look at my companions.
“Come, come,” she says, dabbing her eyes with her apron. “You all must be hungry. There’s soup on the fire.”
Aiden’s face lights up at the promise of a hot meal. He leaps up the steps and pauses in front of Ma. “I’m Aiden,” he says. She stretches up and kisses both his cheeks, the customary greeting of welcome.
“Geneva. It’s very nice to meet you, Aiden.” She purses her lips, noticing the wound on his shoulder. “Not to worry, I’ll patch that right up.”
As Leona approaches, her eyes are low, and her hands are clasped in front of her. She straightens up, removing the hesitation from her stature. “My name is—”
“Oh, I know who you are,” Ma says, bowing her head. “You are the spitting image of your mother.” She pulls Leona into a hug, holding her close. “Thank you for saving my son, Your Majesty.”
Leona looks at me with unease. Her arms are stiff at her side until finally she relaxes them enough to return the gesture.
“So, if you’re here, who’s on the throne now?” Pa tears a chunk from the loaf and bites into it.
Leona rests her spoon inside of her bowl. “I’m not sure. It’s likely either the Lord Commander or the War Master. Both seem to have the most to gain from the coup.”
Ma wrinkles her nose and pauses from refilling our cups with ale. “Weren’t you courting the Lord Commander?”
The dining room grinds to a halt. I lower my spoon from my mouth, mid-bite, and glance over at Leona. This is news to me. My time in the dungeons has kept me from staying on top of current relations—not that I subscribe to gossip, anyway.
All eyes are on her as we await her answer. She sweeps a loose ribbon of hair behind her ear and darts her eyes to mine. A pang strikes in the pit of my stomach. Of course, she’d be courting someone of noble blood. I’d be a fool to think otherwise.
“I had no intentions of pursuing a union with him. The courtship was pushed on me when I ascended,” she says, her voice trailing off.
“Did he at least present an honorable proposal?”
“Ma…” My eyes widen at my mother’s boldness.
Leona gives a tentative smile and stares at the soup in her bowl. “Actually, the Council called for a meeting, they told me I needed to marry Aerok, and I went along with it.”
Aiden’s mouth falls open. “That sounds… horrible.”
“I always felt something wasn’t right about it.” Leona’s foot bounces under the table. The vibrations travel the short distance to my feet as I sit next to her.
“I never liked that man.” Pa pops another piece of bread into his mouth. “His fingernails are too clean. You can’t trust a man who doesn’t get his hands dirty.”
Leona’s lips tug into a smile. I always appreciated that about Pa. Even after a long day when nothing seemed to go right, he could always make me forget my troubles with a few daring words.
“Would anyone like more?” Ma asks, walking over to the hearth. The hearty soup’s aroma lingers in the air, even after most of our b
owls are empty.
“No, thank you,” Leona says. “It was very delicious, though.”
Aiden chimes in agreement. Shamelessly, he already had a second helping and probably would’ve gone for a third if the waistline of his pants could handle it.
I cross my arms, my elbows resting over the table, and lean in toward Pa. “Has Kaleo returned?”
Pa dabs his mouth with a cloth napkin, balls it up in his hands, then tosses it into the empty bread basket.
“He’s probably down at the shore. Why? What’s going on?”
I look over to Leona. “We just have something we want to ask him.”
He looks at me skeptically with an eyebrow raised. Ma returns to the table and stands behind him.
“We just got you back, Colton. Is everything all right?” she asks.
I open my mouth the explain the situation, but Leona beats me to it.
“I’m taking back my throne,” she says decisively. “So, I’m going to ask for his and the others’ help in doing so.”
Pa leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. He scans Leona’s face for a moment, as though he’s gauging her resolve. Leona holds her own, her eyes never wavering from his. Impressive. My father is known to have very intimidating glares.
Finally, he smiles.
“Then, you, Your Majesty, will be a force to be reckoned with.”
Leona
“Are you nervous?” Colton grins as he leads me to the shores.
His hair swings in loose waves above his shoulder, still damp from the bath. He trimmed much of his beard down, so it lays closer to his jaw. Although my own skin and hair are clean, my shabby gown still hangs from my body.
“Nervous? Of course, not…” I try—and fail—to bite back my sarcasm. “I mean, it’s not like the future of my kingdom is at stake here with a simple question.”
It’s anything but a simple question, however. I’ll be asking these people to risk their freedom, their lives for me. And although I am their rightful queen, I am not all right demanding that of them without offering a choice.
“Who is it again I need to speak to?”
“His name is Kaleo,” Colton says. “He’s sort of our unofficial village leader.”
“Wasn’t he taken prisoner as well? Who took care of the village while he was away?”
“Probably his wife. They’re alike in many ways.”
As we near the shores, the hum of the villagers and the crash of the waves grow louder. Over the peak of a hill, the bright orange glow of a bonfire crackles. Many people dance and cheer to the sound of drums echoing in the night.
I look to Colton once more, and he smiles on confidently as though I have nothing to worry about. Oh, how I wish that were true. Part of me feels vulnerable. I’m an outsider. These people don’t know me, and they probably hold the same opinion of me that Colton did.
The music and singing dies down when they notice us approaching. They stare at us with eyes full of fascination.
I wonder, for a moment, how recognizable I am. The last commission portrait of myself was done in my youth, and I’ve hardly made myself available enough for villagers to remember my face. Then again, Colton’s mother knew who I was easily enough. Visiting the villages was one of Mother’s favorite things to do. As massive as the castle is, it can feel quite cramped from lacking sincere human-contact.
I let Colton lead me to one of the large clusters of people sitting around the fire pit. We pause at a burly man with furrowed brows and a piece of straw hanging from his mouth. He stands and removes the straw, flicking it aside.
“I see you finally made it back,” he says to Colton. He holds out his arm and Colton grips his hand around Kaleo’s forearm while he does the same.
“Yeah. Good to see you in one piece.” Colton releases his grip.
Kaleo nods and drops his dark eyes to mine.
“This is—” Colton starts to say.
“Queen Leona,” Kaleo finishes. “Of course. An honor to finally meet you. Though… you’re a bit far from the castle, no? Can’t imagine you’d travel all this way to try our pheasant.” He bursts out in an exuberant laugh, one that resonates in his chest. “Oh! Where are my manners? I am Kaleo Doriar.” He bows his head slightly.
“Pleasure to meet you as well. And… that’s why I’m here. I’ve come to ask you—well, all of you—for help.”
“Help with?”
“Taking back the castle.”
Kaleo shifts his stance and crosses his arms over his chest. He tilts his head. A blotch of raised skin on his neck catches in the firelight, surely a reminder of darker days as a gladiator. His eyes level with mine and he studies me.
“You lost it?” he asks. “As in, was overthrown?”
I’m quiet and maintain his gaze. He takes my silence as confirmation and exhales deeply.
“Forgive me for interrupting your celebration.” I glance at the other men surrounding Kaleo. “I know that many of you have been away from your family for far too long and all you want is a night of peace.” My focus lands back on Kaleo. “But, with your permission, I’d like to speak to them all, pose the question, and give them a choice in the matter.”
The orange glow of the fire reflects in Kaleo’s eyes and for a moment, he doesn’t blink. The sharp angles of his jaw are obscured by the shagginess of his graying facial hair. He rubs his fingertips against the scruff at his chin.
“You really think you can take back the throne?” he finally says.
“With all of your help, yes.”
His eyes linger on mine for another moment. Then, he turns to the other villagers and whistles, calling them all to attention.
“Gather ‘round, everybody.”
A tingly sensation radiates in my hands. I find my fingers interlocked in front of me, the blood circulation at the tips in jeopardy. I relax my hands and force them at my sides.
People move across the sands and form a huddle around us. Murmurs of confusion bounce from all edges of the crowd. When the stirring settles, Kaleo says, “Have at it, Your Majesty.”
I straighten my spine and lift my chin. A strong breeze passes over the water and whips strands of loose hair across my face. The fire beyond rises for a second, licking the air in kind.
“I’m guessing most of you already know who I am.” I pause and glance around at the nodding heads. “Yesterday, I made the decision to end the prisoner fights and free those who were detained. But in doing so, I lost my throne to the same people who swore their allegiance to me. I’ve come to you to ask for your help in getting it back.”
Hushed voices spread in the crowd. The people exchange looks with one another. Their jaws clench and worry creases their foreheads.
I hold up a hand to calm the muttering. “Now, let me make it very clear that none of you should feel forced into this. This is your decision and your decision alone. I won’t press you to stand with me, but should you choose to, please understand the risk that will come along with it.” Their eyes remain attentive to my words. “I’ve only recently learned of the transgressions of my court. I hope you can forgive me for placing my faith in a system I regarded as having the country’s best interests in mind. I want to do better—be better than the previous rulers and their dynasties, but I can’t do that while my reign remains in the hands of those who don’t deserve it.”
I take a step back from the center of the circle and stand next to Colton. The murmurs resume, much louder now.
“Nicely done,” Colton says.
I bite my lip and nod, not quite convinced that my words were enough.
Kaleo moves to face me and folds his hands in front of him. “Give us a moment to talk it over, yes?”
“Of course.” I turn and walk up the shore, stopping once the crowd’s voices turn to a muted buzz. Colton follows.
I look past the villagers as they deliberate and aim my attention to the ocean. The moon reflects against the water, a channel of light flanked by darkness.
&
nbsp; “They’re not going to agree. There was reluctance on their faces.” I peer at them, the glow of the fire casting a golden hue on their backs.
Colton shakes his head. “It was a lot to take in. We’ve never had a civil war before. You just have to give them time to process it.”
I turn away from him and drop my gaze to the ground. Pearlescent seashells litter the sand, each one sparkling under the moonlight. “It’s an insane idea that could possibly get more people killed.” A cold shudder finds my body once more. I wrap my arms around my stomach, desperate to calm the uneasiness.
“Ne reka mora rediti sum kumu—”
“Jos vi rekan ni mor ir kezdet.” I spin around, my hair slapping against the wind. My eyebrow raises. “That’s a Daolic proverb. Where did you learn it from?”
He opens his mouth to speak then shuts it. His eyes shift subtly. “Just something I picked up,” he finally says. “My point is, all great things start somewhere. This will be your start. You might not be able to fix all the past wrongs of the kingdom, but you can make sure our future is better than it would’ve been.”
“If this doesn’t work out, it’s not too late for me to run away to Braer.”
He laughs. “And what would you do over there?”
I look skyward at the moon hanging heavily in the distance. “I don’t know. Become a barmaid? Have a normal person job with normal people problems?”
I drop my chin and regard Colton. A smile inches along his lips.
“And how do you plan on getting there with thousands of miles of water between us?”
I shrug. “How hard is it to stowaway on a boat?”
He tilts his head and leans backward. “What makes you think I would know?”
A giggle loosens my nerves. “Well, your Daolic accent was too perfect for it to be just something you picked up—”
“Excuse me, Your Majesty,” Kaleo says as he approaches. “We’ve discussed it.”
The joy on my face quickly fades into apprehension. This is it.
Kaleo’s face displays no emotion. “Many of them have fears about the magnitude of the situation. The stakes here will be greater than anything we’ve encountered in the past.” My hands go limp at my sides, but he continues. “You did right by us, so we’ll do right by you. Have you got a plan?”
