by Kate Forsyth
‘There was no king then,’ Liliana said. ‘The Stormlinn was ruled by the Erlqueen, Avannia. My grandmother.’
‘And my mother,’ Briony said, very low.
Merry exclaimed in surprise. ‘So your mother was the Erlqueen?’
‘That means you’re a princess,’ Zed said. ‘A wildkin princess.’ He stared at Briony in amazement, and she frowned a little as if forbidding him to think of her differently.
In the silence that followed, the crackling and popping of the burning wood seemed very loud.
‘I do not believe the starkin came to the Stormlinn intending to murder,’ Briony said in a calm, detached voice. ‘Several things happened to offend and upset them. Firstly, of course, they thought it an insult to be asked to kneel before a woman. Women have no value in starkin society; they cannot own property or inherit a title or lands. Prince Zander could not believe the Stormlinn allowed themselves to be ruled by a woman, and thought they must be trying to trick him, or insult him. Also, Avannia had just given birth to me . . . I was only a few weeks old.’
‘Starkin women are cloistered after giving birth,’ Zed said, nodding his head in understanding. ‘They are not permitted to be seen by men for the waxing and waning of two moons.’
‘Yes. Prince Zander was disgusted and angered by Queen Avannia appearing in mixed company, and presiding over the feast, and particularly, I think, by feeding me in public. You may not know that was the custom among the Stormlinn.’
‘It certainly isn’t the custom among the starkin,’ Zed said.
‘No,’ Liliana said caustically. ‘Imagine feeding your baby when it’s hungry!’
‘Oh, I think they feed it when it’s hungry . . . just not where anyone can see,’ Zed said, spreading his hands and shrugging to show he meant no offence.
‘I don’t think it was that which led Prince Zander to massacre the Stormlinn, though,’ Briony said. ‘Do you remember what I have told you about the Gifts, boys? That I am the Erlrune because I have three of the Great Gifts—the Gift of Seeing, the Gift of Making and the Gift of Understanding.’
Merry and Zed nodded.
‘Something you two could do with a little more of,’ Liliana muttered. She was feeling on edge and combative. She hated hearing this tragic story again, and was afraid of showing weakness before these starkin boys.
Briony frowned at her, and went on, ‘Well, my eldest sister, Shoshanna, had the Gift of Telling. She had been named the Teller of Tales only a few years earlier, after the old Teller died. She rose to her feet during the feast and uttered a prophecy which the starkin saw as being a veiled threat.’
‘A child of storm shall raise high the spear of thunder, and by the power of three, smite the throne of stars asunder,’ Liliana intoned in a deep, reverent voice.
‘Yes, that is what she said. Not very diplomatic, of course. But the Teller of Tales cannot always choose what they say, or when,’ Briony said.
‘Not another prophecy,’ Zed sighed.
‘The Gift of Telling is more than mere prophecy,’ Liliana said fiercely. ‘The words of the Teller of Tales have power beyond simple divination. It is a curse, a wish, an invocation. What the Teller says will happen, must happen, for they have spoken the words and given them weight.’
‘Are you trying to tell me that if a Stormlinn Teller told someone to drop dead, they would, just like that?’ Zed asked disbelievingly.
‘Eventually,’ Liliana said, nose in the air.
‘It is a strange, unknowable Gift,’ Briony said, ‘like all the Gifts of the Stormlinn. It is one of the most honoured, and one of the most dangerous, for it is the Gift of wishing and cursing, of prayer and prophecy, of storytelling and true-telling.’
Merry bent his head over his lute and softly strummed a few chords. His mouth moved silently, as if quietly singing the words to himself.
‘Certainly Prince Zander saw it as a threat,’ Briony said. ‘He was also furious that a woman—more of a girl, really— should dare look upon him and speak to him in such a way. He wanted to break her, and yet he also desired her. My sister Shoshanna was, by all accounts, very beautiful.’
‘So what happened?’ Merry asked.
‘Lady Marjolaine had seen the coming of the starkin in the Well of Fates, and what was likely to happen. She summoned a grogoyle and flew down to the castle to seek an audience with the Erlqueen. The Erlqueen refused to believe a man who had just broken bread with her could try to murder her, and would not break the laws of hospitality herself by having the prince thrown in prison.’
‘It was stupid,’ Liliana said gruffly. ‘She should’ve listened to the Erlrune.’
Briony continued in an unsteady voice: ‘While Avannia and the Erlrune were arguing, the starkin had already begun their bloody work. They slaughtered most of the servants and guards, and then, when the alarm began to be raised, burst into the royal wing and killed the Erlqueen’s husband and her three sons as they lay sleeping. Avannia heard the screams, and ran at once to try to save them. She was cut down by Prince Zander himself as she came through the door.’
‘That is so sad,’ Merry said.
Liliana felt his eyes on her face and kept it cold and hard as stone. She wanted no-one to know how deeply this story affected her. Emotion was weakness, and weakness was death.
‘At least he’s only a distant relation of mine,’ Zed said unhappily. ‘My second cousin, once removed.’
Briony’s face was pale, her eyes shadowed. ‘The Erlrune only had a few seconds before the soldiers burst in upon her. She scooped me up from my cradle, picked up my sister Ladonna, then leapt out the window.’
Merry drew in his breath sharply, and Liliana gave him an angry look. How dare he look at her with pity in his eyes?
‘She was wearing a magical cloak of feathers, and so should have been able to escape unharmed,’ Briony went on. ‘But Prince Zander had a fusillier. He ran to the window and shot at her. The Erlrune flew higher, but the flame caught the edge of her cloak and burnt away seven of the feathers, those that held the pattern of magic. She plunged three hundred feet into the lake. Somehow she managed to cling on to Ladonna, but I was only a baby. I slipped from her arms when she hit the water, and although she tried and tried to find me in the darkness, I was lost.’
Liliana drew a deep, shaky breath. She imagined what the Erlrune must have felt, feeling the baby slip from her arms into the freezing depths of the lake.
‘She could not stay searching for me, it was icy cold and snowing and the soldiers were searching for her. She had to escape. So she called the grogoyle and flew back here, weeping all the way. She looked for me in the Well of Fates but saw nothing but darkness. She thought I was surely dead.’
‘How on earth did you survive?’ Merry asked.
‘A lake-lorelei saved me. She brought me up from the depths of the lake and swam with me to shore. Then she sang, until one of the Crafty—an old woman called Oreal—heard her and came to see what she had found. I lived with Oreal until I was six or so, but then she was killed by soldiers, and so I ran away and lived wild for a few years, before they employed me as a spinner and weaver at Estelliana Castle. That was where I met your mother, Zed.’
‘And the other little girl? Liliana’s mother?’ Merry asked.
‘My mother was raised by the Erlrune,’ Liliana said, ‘and then, when she was around my age, she went back to Stormlinn Castle and lived there in the ruins, doing what she could to help the wildkin. She tried to find the lost Spear of the Stormlinn, which Prince Zander had stolen, she tried to rescue her sister, she tried to build the castle again, she did her best. Eventually she had me, and died.’
‘That’s such a shame,’ Zed said.
‘Strange to hear that coming from the mouth of a starkin, since it was your scum relatives who killed her,’ she retorted.
‘What do you mean, she tried to rescue her sister? Do you mean Briony?’ Merry asked.
‘No,’ Liliana said scornfully. ‘Her other sister
. Shoshanna. Prince Zander took her back to Zarissa with him, and kept her as his concubine, and paraded her in chains before the court for his amusement. She was the new Erlqueen, you see, after my grandmother died.’
‘The Erlrune tried many times to rescue her,’ Briony said. ‘Every attempt failed. The palace at Zarissa is too heavily guarded, and Shoshanna was kept in a high tower made all of crystal glass, so tall it is called the Tower of Stars. Sixteen years ago, she gave birth to a daughter there. It was a difficult birth, and she had no-one of her kind to help her. She died.’
‘Such a sad story,’ Merry said, gazing at Liliana with pity in his eyes. She stared back at him stonily.
‘So that girl . . . the wildkin granddaughter of the king . . . is your cousin, Liliana,’ Zed said. ‘Why, I know all about her. She’s the only living offspring of the crown prince. Apparently half the court at Zarissa is vying for her hand, in the hope the king will name whoever marries her the next in line for the throne. She can’t inherit herself, of course, being female . . .’
‘She is the Erlqueen of the Stormlinn!’ Liliana snapped. ‘She won’t want to inherit the starkin throne. She will want to smite it asunder.’
‘With the Spear of Thunder,’ Merry said, laughing.
Liliana glared at him. ‘That’s right,’ she said coldly.
‘Except Rozalina, Erlqueen of the Stormlinn, is held captive in Zarissa, and the Spear of the Storm King was lost long ago,’ Briony said sadly.
‘I’m guessing that’s where we come in,’ Merry said. Zed turned surprised eyes his way. ‘Well, it’s obvious. Liliana wants to try and rescue her cousin, and the Erlrune thinks we can help her. Or that you can, really, since you’re one of the Ziv.’
Zed rubbed his chin reflectively. ‘Comets and stars! I should’ve seen that coming. Though I must say she has a very odd way of asking people to help her. I mean, hissing “starkin scum” at me all the time. I ask you!’
‘I don’t want or need your help,’ Liliana said stiffly.
‘Of course you do,’ Zed said, grinning at her. ‘How else can you get access to the palace? How else can you even get close to your cousin? And there’ll be fighting involved. You’re only a girl. Of course you need me to help you and look after you—’
Liliana leapt to her feet, one hand seizing an arrow, the other raising high her bow. Within seconds, Zed had an arrow aimed directly at his throat.
‘I am not only a girl,’ Liliana enunciated very clearly. ‘I am Liliana Vendavala, Princess of the Stormlinn. Apologise or die.’
CHAPTER 4
Cloak of Feathers
ZED RAISED BOTH HIS HANDS HIGH. ‘NO NEED TO GET SO HOT under the collar. I didn’t mean to offend you!’
‘Well, you did,’ Liliana said. The hand holding back the string of her bow did not quiver, the pointed barb of the arrow less than an inch away from Zed’s throat.
‘Well, I’m sorry, then. But you have to admit I’ve got a point—a wildkin girl like you has got no chance of getting into that palace by herself. Why, they’d kill you before you even got within a mile of the place. Particularly if they found out that you are one of the Stormlinn.’
‘That may be true, but I still don’t see how that gives you the right to insult me, just because you are a boy and a starkin.’
‘Well, all right then, I’m sorry,’ said Zed. ‘Do you think you could put the arrow down now? I’d hate your finger to slip.’
Liliana slowly let the bow and arrow drop. ‘My finger will not slip unless I want it to,’ she said scornfully.
‘Are you going to do that often?’ Zed asked. ‘I mean, whip out an arrow and threaten to kill me? Because it doesn’t make you very comfortable to be around.’
‘I am the granddaughter of Avannia, the martyred Erlqueen of the Stormlinn. You must take care how you speak to me.’
‘Oh, I will, I will!’ Zed held up both his hands in surrender, giving Liliana such an impish grin that she could not help smiling back, just a little.
Briony had been watching this little byplay with a small line between her brows. ‘Zedrin, Merrik, I cannot tell you how important this is—not just to Liliana and me, but to the whole future of our land.’
She paused and took a deep breath, and then continued with her hands clasped closely together, ‘You see, it seems Princess Rozalina has inherited her mother’s talent. In the last few months, since her sixteenth birthday, she has been demonstrating clear signs of the Gift of Telling. It is still wild and uncontrolled. She inflicted mumps upon someone who displeased her, and summoned a plague of rats.’
‘Not someone you want to get on the wrong side of,’ Zed said in an undertone to Merry.
‘The point is that Prince Zander has realised what a potent weapon she would be, if he could force her to use her Gift in his service. We must rescue her before she is taught to use her Gift for harm.’
‘Imagine if she cursed all those of wildkin blood,’ Liliana said urgently, leaning forward, ‘not knowing what she did!’
‘Or foretold a cruel death for all those that spoke against the starkin,’ Briony said.
‘Could she harm you?’ Merry asked anxiously. ‘Prince Zander has been trying to find some way to capture the Erlrune for years. He’s always sending the King’s Guard tramping through Estelliana.’
‘And my uncle can do nothing to stop him for fear of being called a traitor,’ Zed said.
‘That is why we must rescue her just as soon as we can. She could be the most powerful weapon we’ve got in our fight against the starkin!’ Liliana cried.
‘Or at least, a powerful tool in our work towards bringing peace and justice back to the land,’ Briony said quellingly.
‘But . . . why us? We’re only sixteen . . . and despite what Zed thinks, hardly hero material,’ Merry said.
‘Perhaps that’s why you have a chance,’ said Briony. ‘They’ll be looking for monsters and rebel armies, not two naive young men come to gawk at the royal court. Besides, did I not tell you? Lady Marjolaine saw in the Well of Fates that Shoshanna would have a daughter who could only be rescued by one with the blood of the Ziv in him. She always thought that this must be impossible but then your parents came to ask for her help, and she began to wonder . . .’
‘You mean, she could see that Lisandre and Pedrin would marry even then?’ Merry asked, rather sceptically.
Briony smiled at him. ‘Oh, we could all see that.’
Zed grinned. He loved the romance of the story of his parents’ meeting. Merry dropped his eyes. His parents’ story would be romantic too, if his father Durrik had not died at the hands of starkin soldiers, and if his mother Maglen had not felt compelled to avenge his death and lead the rebels in their war against the starkin. He felt Liliana’s eyes on him and turned away to hide the pain in his face.
Briony placed her empty glass down on the tray and stretched wearily. ‘Lady Marjolaine saw that it would be the child—or the children—of the four adventurers that braved her so long ago who would have the best hope of rescuing Princess Rozalina. That was why she asked your parents to send you here, so she could help you, and teach you everything that might help you in your task. I have done my best in her stead, and can only hope it will be enough.’
‘So let me get this straight,’ Merry said. ‘The only reason why Zed and I ever came here was to be trained to break this wildkin princess out of her tower. Is that right?’
Briony nodded. ‘That’s right, Merry,’ she said softly. ‘There’s no-one else who can do it. Zed is one of the Ziv. He’ll be welcomed at the capital city with open arms, him and all his party. No-one will suspect you’re trying to rescue a wildkin.’
‘Sounds like fun,’ Zed said exuberantly.
‘It sounds dangerous,’ Merry said.
‘Of course it’s dangerous.’ Liliana cast him a cool look. ‘Are you afraid?’
‘I’d be stupid not to be afraid,’ Merry retorted. ‘Do you know what they do to traitors in Zarissa? The royal court w
ill be swarming with soldiers and spies.’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ Liliana snapped back. ‘Many people tried to rescue Shoshanna, and they all failed. Many died horribly. The only reason why I’m permitting you boys to accompany me is because you’ll be useful getting me in the door.’
‘Permitting us! You should be falling on your knees and thanking us. Besides, we haven’t said we’ll go yet,’ Merry replied.
‘Oh, I’ll go,’ Zed said. ‘What an adventure. Besides, it’s what I was born for, isn’t it? No point at all in trying to avert your fate, I think.’
Next shall be the king-breaker, the king-maker, though broken himself he shall be. Merry remembered the prophecy with a little inward shudder. How could Zed be so cool when it was predicted he was to be broken? But then Zed loved to hunt and duel and wrestle, and he never seemed to get hurt. He had no idea what true pain was like. Merry was not so robust, nor so lucky. He was always getting injured, trying to keep up with his taller, stronger, more adventurous friend.
There was the time Zed had dared him to climb to the top of High Tor, and Merry’s rope had somehow frayed and broken, and he had fallen and broken three ribs and his leg. Another time they had got lost in the snow after setting out to explore the forest on homemade snow-shoes, and Merry had almost died of pneumonia while Zed had not even caught a sniffle. Merry had even been shot at once, by a bandit with bad aim who had wanted to steal Zed’s silver dagger. He had a small, round scar in his shoulder where Naomi the Crafty had had to dig out the crossbow bolt.
Merry sighed.
‘Of course you’re coming,’ Zed grinned at him. ‘As if you’d stay home knitting when there’s some action to be had!’
‘It seems someone with a bit of sense really ought to go along. Liliana here seems as much of a cabbage-head as you,’ Merry said. ‘If not more so.’
Liliana glared at him and he smiled, letting her know he was only teasing. After a moment she smiled back, tentatively, and he felt a strange twist deep in his stomach. Blood rushed into his face.
