Isadora took a step forward, and in a flash the sword was firmly seated in the empress’ hand, blade up and ready. She stopped abruptly. “I’m only doing as you asked.”
The sword did not drop. “I’m aware of that. I need you close enough that we might share words that are sure to be private, but one can’t be too careful where witchcraft is concerned. I’m not yet certain that you care so much about your sisters and the residents of your village that you’ll behave as you should.”
“I care nothing for the people of Shandley,” Isadora said bluntly, “but I would never do anything to endanger my sisters in any way.”
The blade lowered a little, and it seemed that the empress almost smiled. “You’re honest. I should warn you, that’s not always considered an admirable trait in this palace.”
Isadora did not immediately respond. She and the empress were alone when they should not be; the lady of this cursed palace had mentioned private words still to be spoken; and the woman with the sword studied her as if she could not decide whether she should hug or skewer her. After a few moments of strained silence, Isadora asked, “What do you want from me?”
The empress relaxed a little. “Kane Varden is my brother.” Surprised, Isadora took a short step back. The hair, the eyes. There was definitely a resemblance. The empress’ brother was a relation...and a rebel. No wonder this conversation had to be private.
“Does anyone else know?”
“No one in this palace is aware of the kinship, not even my husband.”
Of course no one was aware! Rebels and witches did not make fine and regal relations. “And yet you’ve trusted me with this secret, even though you still hold a sword on me while we speak.”
Empress Liane set the sword aside once again, but it was not too far away to call upon, if necessary. “I came to care for Sophie very much while she was here. She hugged me before she made her escape, and she called me sister. For her sake, I could not allow Sebestyen to kill you, or worse. I can’t promise that I can keep you safe, but I am going to try. I wanted you to know why.”
It was hard to imagine Sophie embracing this cold woman and calling her sister. Perhaps the youngest Fyne sister had seen something in Empress Liane that Isadora missed. “Were Sophie and Kane truly well when they left this place?”
“Madly in love, together, and expecting another child,” the empress said with a minimum of emotion. “Yes, I’d say they were well.”
Relief rushed through Isadora, leaving her light-headed. “I’m glad to hear that. Even though I did not approve of the match in the beginning, I’m glad Sophie has Kane with her now.”
“So am I,” Empress Liane said almost grudgingly. She squirmed slightly. “What am I to do with you? I told Sebestyen that I fancied having my own witch, but it’ll take more than that to satisfy him for more than a few days. Mahri is a good, compliant maid, and I’d rather not replace her. If I release her, she has nowhere to go but down, and she is a sweet enough girl.” The empress’ lips twisted as if she were thinking of smiling. “Besides, the Fyne women don’t strike me as being at all compliant.”
Empress Liane stood and took a few steps to move close to Isadora. Was the woman brave, confident, or stupid?
Not stupid; of that Isadora was certain.
When they were very close, Liane said in a lowered voice, “I have few friends in this palace, Isadora. I trust a handful of the people closest to me, and even then...” She shrugged. “I can’t be sure of them.” Her eyes met and held Isadora’s. “I can’t be entirely sure about you, either, but we do have a bond that no one else knows of. Kane and Sophie. My brother, your sister. And I sense that we are the same in many ways. We are not entirely like other women. So you see, I have no choice but to trust you, to some degree.”
Isadora nodded.
“You need to be here. It’s very likely that Bors will find your sister Juliet and bring her to Sebestyen, and it would be best if you’re not only here, but well established in the palace before that happens. Do you understand?”
“Juliet is more likely to survive if I am here and in a position to help her,” Isadora said.
“Exactly,” Empress Liane said with a soft sigh. “I have selfish reasons of my own for wanting you here. In a few months I will give birth to the next emperor of Columbyana. I need a strong woman to stand beside me, someone I can trust, a companion who will deliver my baby and keep him out of the hands of the priests. Help me, Isadora. Deliver my child and keep us both safe and someday, as soon as it is possible, I will see you free from here.”
The Anwyn Palace was three stories high, massive in length and breadth, and constructed of the beautiful stones Juliet had seen throughout The City. Even if there had been no columns lining the portico, no armed and uniformed guards, no silk flags in gold and bright blue, it would still be the most magnificent place she’d ever seen.
The Palace of the Anwyn Queen was undeniably regal, and yet it also looked primitive, as if it had stood just so for a thousand years, as if it were a part of the mountain and always would be.
The guards wore blue uniforms and carried spears instead of swords. The tips of those spears were sharp, and the arms of those who carried them were muscular. All of the soldiers had long hair, dark and pale and even red, and in each case it had been pulled back and fashioned into a long, thick braid that fell down a muscled back. She had to remind herself, again and again—these men were like Ryn; they changed with the moon.
Word of her arrival preceded her, and all along the road people had halted their daily chores to bow. After a while she stopped telling people to stand; eventually they’d learn that she did not wish to be Queen, and the bowing would cease.
As they stepped into the palace, she sensed Ryn’s reluctance. She could reach out to him, find that connection they shared and take comfort from it. But she was afraid. Afraid she would not be able to stop the sensations that were bound to assault her, here in this place where her abilities could grow to unknown heights.
Guards lined the long hallway. The corridor was as wide as the parlor of the Fyne cabin, and the tapestries on the walls were fine and richly colored. The stone beneath her feet was cool and uncarpeted, but shone with its own rugged beauty. The guards did not bow as she passed, but their stance did change. They dropped their heads and extended the spears to the side, in a straight-arm salute of sorts. All of them appeared to be young; many were younger than Ryn, she would guess, perhaps by a few years.
It was as if she were being pulled toward the center of the palace, tugged unerringly toward the destiny Ryn told her awaited. He thought it was the sacred stone that called her, but she could not believe that an object had power over her in any way. Yes, she believed wholeheartedly in magic. But a sacred stone? Magic was in the heart and the soul, not encased in an inanimate object.
Before them, a massive set of double doors was well guarded by more spear-carrying guards. The guards dropped their heads in salute, and then opened those doors.
Columns of varying widths and shapes and stone were scattered throughout the massive room, holding up the ornate ceiling above and adding elegance to a room so large it took her breath away. The ceiling was so high above, Juliet lifted her head in amazement.
There was much here to amaze. Silk draperies, tapestries, finely crafted chairs and chests and tables. The chamber was a mixture of fine and crudely crafted things, all blending together into a fashion that was, well, Anwyn. Ryn was this way—crude and refined, wild and civilized.
She could very well imagine that at times this massive room was filled with revelers or friends or family. The most powerful of the Anwyn would meet here when necessary. Even though there was an ancient aspect to this palace, it was far from the crude cave she had expected when Ryn had first told her he was taking her to his home.
At the far end of the room, a throne awaited. It was an impressive but lonely-looking chair of power. The chair-back was high, the wood of that back and the legs carved ornately, the
armrests wide. A gold cushion covered the seat, awaiting Queen Etaina. At the moment the throne was empty, but it was guarded on either side by more armed guards.
As Juliet and Ryn walked toward the vacant throne, an old woman appeared from a door to the side. Her back was slightly bent, her hair as white as the snow that had fallen on the journey. Still, she moved with a kind of gentle grace. She wore a gold silk frock that danced around her thin frame as she took her throne and the silk settled around her body.
There was no welcoming smile, and suddenly Juliet was more uncertain about this journey than she had ever been.
She wished she’d taken the time to bathe and dress properly. The white-haired woman was a Queen, after all, while she herself was road-weary and dirty, her clothes torn and her hair wildly tangled. When they stood before the throne, Juliet took her cue from Ryn. When he dropped down, she did the same. When he placed his forehead on the floor, so did she.
“Oh, get up,” the Queen commanded brusquely. “I have no time for this.”
They rose, and Juliet took her first good look at the Queen of the Anwyn. The old woman looked no more pleased to see Juliet than Juliet was at the thought of taking her place. If the Queen was unhappy because she thought Juliet wanted her throne, perhaps they could come to an agreement that would make everyone happy.
“It certainly took you long enough to get here,” the old woman said sharply. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you?”
“No, ma’am,” Juliet answered, her voice soft and confused.
“My mate passed on eight winters ago.”
“I’m very sorry.”
“Very sorry,” the Queen muttered. “I would have joined him within three cycles of the moon if you had been here to take my place, as you should have been.”
“Juliet did not know of her duty,” Ryn said, his welcome voice deep and warm and comforting.
The Queen turned her old, golden eyes to the man who had spoken. “I did not ask for your opinion.” Again, she looked pointedly at Juliet. “You truly did not know of your place here? How could you not know?” Her eyes narrowed. “The red-haired Queen is said to have the gift of sight.”
No wonder so many of the people on the street had whispered about the color of her hair. Her coming had been foretold in some way. “I have that gift, but it has never worked well in regards to my own life,” Juliet explained. “Sometimes I see, other times I do not.”
The old woman relaxed. “You have much explaining to do. I don’t understand why you were not born and raised here in The City, as you should have been. In all of recorded Anwyn history, the Queen has come to us as an infant and been reared in the palace with the knowledge that she would be Queen when the time came. Did your father hide you away to keep you from us?”
“I never knew my father,” Juliet said softly.
The Queen’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Unusual. I will want to hear all the details, perhaps over the evening meal. For now I will only say that I am grateful that you have come to us at last. I and all of your subjects have been waiting for you for a very long time.”
Even though Ryn had warned her of this days ago, the concept of being Queen was too much to comprehend. Subjects? She did not want or need subjects. She did not wish to sit on that throne. All she wanted was to go home. If she were very lucky, she could keep this newly found ability to turn her psychic powers down and even off. It was all she wanted. Home and peace. Best to start by telling the old Queen the truth.
“Queen Etaina, I have no desire to take your place. I don’t understand what has happened here, but there must be some kind of misunderstanding. A mistake. I am not meant to be Queen.”
“You are Anwyn female; you are Queen. Your desire is not important. The throne is your obligation. The Anwyn people are your subjects.”
“But—”
“Your consort is dismissed,” Queen Etaina said with a wave of her hand. “You and I need to talk, just the two of us. Apparently you do not understand the full magnitude of this matter.”
They did need to have a talk. Somehow Juliet had to convince the Queen that she didn’t plan to stay and claim the throne. Even so, she would not allow Ryn to be dismissed in such an offhanded way.
“Ryn is not my consort,” she said.
“Of course he is,” the Queen said impatiently. “He is your partner, your lover. Before he was called to retrieve his mate, he was a fine palace guard. It was a noble and honorable station, but his station has improved considerably. He is your first and closest servant. He is your subordinate, put on this earth to answer your every command, to pleasure you when you wish it, to give you sons, and to leave when he is no longer needed. You are to be Queen and he is here to do your bidding. Tell him he may go.”
No wonder Ryn did not want to be the Queen’s consort! He wasn’t the type to be ordered about, not by a woman or anyone else.
Without saying a word aloud, Ryn turned and walked away. The doors far behind opened and closed, and without turning to look, Juliet knew he was gone. The Queen raised her hand, and the guards on either side of her stepped away. They did not leave the room, but they no longer hovered over Queen Etaina.
“Ryn will take some training, I imagine,” the Queen said. “My own mate had years to come to terms with being my consort, since we knew from childhood that we were mated. Ryn is no doubt surprised by this turn of events, but eventually he’ll do. He’ll make fine, strong sons.”
“Do you have sons?” Juliet asked.
“Yes.” The Queen smiled. “Eleven of them.”
Eleven! “Why have you not handed rule of The City and the Anwyn over to one of them?”
“That is not the way of the Anwyn, Juliet.” The woman shook her white head. “While my sons and the clan leaders do see to the inconsequential matters of government, it is women who rule. It has been so for many hundreds of years. Our hierarchy is well-established. Captive wives are placed lowest in the social stratum, but are ranked well above all other humans. Anwyn males are ranked higher than their wives, which is only natural since they are stronger than any other and have the gift of the wolf. Above them are the purebred Anwyn males, offspring of Anwyn father and those rarely born Anwyn females. Queens, Juliet. Those women, the Queens who come twice in a hundred years, hold the highest station of all. You will be worshipped, thanks to the Anwyn blood that runs in your veins and the womb which will bear purebred sons.”
“I do not wish to be worshipped,” Juliet whispered.
“It does not matter what you wish.” The Queen lost her temper in a flash, then regained it just as quickly. “All that matters is what is. You are very much needed here. No one dares to defy the Queen, but if there is no Queen, the Anwyn will fight among themselves. Clans will battle for power. Rogue Anwyn will move back into the city and disturb our peace. Men fight wars over inconsequential matters. Their pride dictates their decisions, and so they make poor rulers. They are better suited for serving women, and they serve well in many capacities. As consorts, as soldiers, as servants...”
“Ryn is none of those things.”
“He will be,” the Queen said with assurance. “It is his place. Now, we have many other things to discuss. The ceremony to make you ruler will take several days to plan. You may, of course, invite your mate to stay here in the palace during the preparatory period. We will have a smaller chamber prepared for him near your bedroom, so that you may call him if he’s needed. I can see that the two of you are already lovers.”
“We are...” Juliet started to deny the charge, but of course it was not at all false.
“I smell him on you, child, and in you,” the Queen said. “Every Anwyn who comes close to you knows that your mate has already claimed you.”
“We have taken no vows,” she said simply. And won’t. She did not say those words aloud, but she knew, without question, that the woman on the throne understood.
Queen Etaina smiled. “Of course you have not. Your vow will be to the
Anwyn people, not to one man. As Queen, you cannot afford to give yourself over to the whims of a husband as an ordinary woman might.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being ordinary,” Juliet said, her voice near panic.
“For some that is true,” Queen Etaina replied calmly. “But you and I, we are not at all ordinary.”
“I will be so if I choose,” Juliet insisted.
“You have a wide stubborn streak,” the Queen observed. “It will serve you well when you take this throne.”
“I don’t intend to take that throne.”
The Queen was not surprised or angered. “Your intentions mean nothing. You will sit on this throne before the next full moon.”
The next full moon would come in a matter of days.
“Get back.”
Sophie heard Kane utter the order that would send Arik and his soldiers away from her. She noted the words in the back of her mind, grasped the reasoning for the warning, and pulled her anger and grief deep within herself.
The Fyne cabin had been burned to the ground, and all that remained of the home where she had been born and raised were ashes and charred wood and unidentifiable lumps of furnishings. Whatever had happened here had happened weeks, perhaps even months, ago. The ground was cold.
Behind her, the soldiers wisely took Kane’s direction and headed down the mountain. Sophie’s father took Ariana and went with them, but Kane remained. He walked up behind Sophie and placed his arms around her. Her first tear fell, and with it came a cold, gentle rain that dampened the ruins of home. Kane did not tell her to stop, and he did not run for shelter. He was not afraid of this unnatural rain her grief created.
“We did not part on the best of terms,” she said softly. “Ariana had been taken, and they’d tricked me into drugging you, and I was so very angry. They never knew that I forgave them, that I loved them...”
The rain soaked them both, but Kane kept her warm. “Arik is going to make inquiries in Shandley. Your sisters might be just fine.” He planted a kiss on her damp hair.
The Moon Witch Page 22
