by R. J. Price
“The three,” Jer gave his head a shake and straightened. “After they left I went to Em and demanded an answer.”
“For what? I cannot read minds,” Av reminded Jer. “Just bodies.”
“She's mine, Av.” Tears welled up in Jer's eyes. “She's mine, and now she's gone, banished from court because of the steward. She thinks I hate her. Not just as a man to a bastard his mate brought forth, but as her father. She thinks I hate her, Em made certain of that. The only child I will ever have, and I've missed everything.”
Av could have reminded Jer that his brother had never wanted children. Jer would have been content to raise a child, or even several children if only his mate had wanted them, but Jer had never truly wanted to be a father. But seeing one's blood take the form of a babe could change a man's mind quickly.
He could have made a comment on how Mar's life was just beginning, that there were still many years before her, and Jer could be a part of those years. All it would take was a letter to Perlon, and their friend would ensure that the relationship could be repaired.
Yet none of that mattered to a broken heart. It was not the simple act of losing years with Mar or even losing her entirely. What hurt Jer more than being kept from his child were the lies Em had told to keep such a secret, that she had preferred to be called a whore than to allow Jer to claim his own blood. It made little sense to Av, why Em would have called Mar a bastard for so many years. When Mar had been born Em had not yet taken the throne, and while Em had never quite been stable, she had not been mad enough that she would do such a thing.
“Did she say why?” Av asked.
“Because she knew the moment Mar stirred in her belly that the girl was a queen,” Jer sniffed, his tears slowly turning to anger. “She knew that if she had a queen by me there was no way she could have bred with you.”
“What?” Av said, pulling his hands away from Jer. “I've never found Em attractive.”
“I know that, she did not,” Jer said. “The only reason she agreed to mate me for ten years was because she needed a man to sit the throne by her to keep her court from insisting on an arrangement mating, and to keep her parents from inserting themselves into court life.”
Av struggled for a moment. “Because until a queen is mated, her father and mother are to be at court to protect her.”
“She never trusted either of them, even though they were good people, but this entire time—ten years, Av, ten years of my life are gone. I will never get them back. I've stood by her, fought for her, protected her, and what do I get in return? A dying mate, a daughter who hates me, and the rival,” Jer motioned to Av, “who is making everything worse. And my only hope of redemption is if the master makes a decision, but how can you? How can you make this decision when you're bedding Aren?”
“What's Aren got to do with this?” Av asked.
“She's the rival,” Jer said. “There are no queens around, didn't you notice that? Em kept them away because anytime a queen stepped onto palace grounds, the throne would start nagging at her, that's what she said, nag and grind away at what she was. That's how she's kept the throne so long. Since Aren came to court Em's been wasting away.”
“But no nagging from the throne,” Av said. “Aren is wanting off palace grounds, and I have been considering if that is in the best interest of all involved if Aren just left.”
“And if she does?” Jer asked. “What of you? We,”—he motioned around him, to the others who were slowly coming to a stop to listen to the brothers—“we need you. With the queens dying off, with the throne jumping from one, to another, to another.”
“Eating our mates and daughters,” said an older warrior, grief twisting his face.
“We need you here,” Jer said. “And if Aren leaves, you leave.”
“Just because I claimed her, does not mean that I would abandon you.”
“But you'd have to,” said another from the crowd, causing those who had still been speaking to still and turn towards them.
Av shook his head. “I've claimed things before and have been able to walk away from them.”
“Not a queen,” Jer said, shaking his head. His brother laughed desperately. “For being the older brother, for knowing as much as you do, you have a lot to learn about this.” He tapped Av's chest, over his heart. “We came first. Warriors came before anything else and yet it's the queens who rule. Why do you think that is?”
“Because we made them a cage of silk and lace to contain them,” Av said, thinking back to what Mar had said about queens, how they were nothing more than fuel for the people. Suddenly he knew who had told Mar that, where that point of view might have come from. He had thought it was Em, since sitting the throne she would have seen the truth no matter how good Jer was at distraction; but no, that wording fit Aren, fit her temper and her moods.
It made Aren all the more dangerous. Most queens never knew, never saw beyond their lives and the warriors who were all too intent to lay themselves at the feet of the queens, to see the truth of the matter.
“Did we cage them, or did they cage us?” Jer asked. “Warriors once worked in public, everyone knew our rank and how to deal with it. We could kill a man and no one would bat an eyelash. Now what? We hide in the woods and drink ourselves to sleep, share stories of times long gone and pray for a better tomorrow?”
“I don't know, but we can't walk in the light of day with an unstable throne, that much I do know,” Av said, raising his voice to ensure that everyone could hear him speak. “To do so would be to rally the queens against one another. It would cause civil war. We wouldn't just lose our mates and daughters and mothers, we would lose each other, and we would lose those we are sworn to protect. Then what? What would happen to the commoners, when there is no one to sit the throne, when there are no warriors to try and control one who does manage to sit the throne? Without the throne our world will end; the only thing that keeps us alive is that throne.”
“Old tales,” Jer said. “I've sat beside it, I've sat beside her, she's not keeping us alive, she's not strong enough. All she does is light the palace, keep water running to allow showers and toilets to work. If we are going to sacrifice our women, why not ask the same of ourselves?”
There were some in the crowd nodding along to Jer, but Av knew this was not what his brother believed. Grief was blurring his vision.
“It would mean an end to everything we hold dear!” Av shouted at Jer.
The words hung on the air between them, cold and fearful. When the fear faded, Av felt a tugging, an annoyed insistence that someone be listened to. He turned to the south, as did the others in the hollow. Av sighed loudly, looked up to the starry night sky and swore, before he turned back to Jer.
...Who looked as if he had been struck.
“What was that?” asked the new member to Av's little flock.
“Father,” Av said. “Mine, not yours. Calling the two warriors stupid enough to argue.”
The others grimaced.
Av might have been master, but his father still had sway over those standing in the hollow. The position of master was not always held by a warrior. It was meant to control the warriors, but when Av's father had stepped aside because Em had taken the throne, the position had needed to be filled. There had been bickering and fighting and bloodshed, but Av had put an end to it and demanded everyone get along, if only for long enough to choose another master.
“Tell us about Aren,” the older warrior, the one grieved by loss, said. “We've heard the names of all the queens, but Aren is not among the number.”
“Is she pretty?” asked someone.
“Can she sing?” asked another.
“No, no,” said the newest member. “Is she young enough? You know, to breed?”
“No one is going to be breeding her!” Av shouted, causing everyone to move back, away from him. Even Jer flinched away. “And if someone is going to, it is me. My blood will mingle with hers, no one else's. Is that understood?”
; “He's so far gone, he doesn't even realize he's doomed,” Jer muttered.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Aren sat in wait for Av, watching the door, looking out the windows. The darkness outside was comforting, the only lights being torches lit by the palace guard as they gathered for a meeting. Light fixtures stood at long distances from one another throughout the training ground, but were rarely lit. Aren preferred the warm glow of fire. She could almost sit back and believe that she was not on palace grounds, but instead in a cottage in the woods, far away and out of reach.
The night wore on and Aren busied herself by straightening items, washing the few dishes sitting beside the sink, and exploring the pantry. There were many shelves filled with preserved and dried foods readied for winter. At the front of the pantry Aren found a few fresh vegetables, the early harvest being pulled in.
Aren chewed on a carrot as she walked back into the living area. Darkness had come over the room while she had looked over the pantry. As Aren had stepped out of the pantry, the lights flickered twice, and then remained dark. She returned to the pantry and found an oil lamp hanging at the back, from the rafters. Aren had to retrieve a chair to reach the lamp but she pulled it down successfully, and returned to the living area just as the pantry light flickered and died.
Setting the lamp in the middle of the table, Aren looked over the living area. The hearth cast enough light that she felt comfortable with the darkness. She would only need the lamp for using the bathing room. Aren added wood to the hearth and walked to the door. She heard a scuff on the other side and then nothing. An animal of some sort, perhaps, sniffing about for scraps.
Crestfallen, and a little worried, Aren moved to the bed and sat up in it. She propped the pillow up and watched the door, waiting for Av to return. Aren told herself that she would have left the home, would have returned to her rooms, but for the knowledge that Em could very well be waiting for her to do just that. Av's home was sacred. No one would trespass for fear of evoking the master's anger.
At every sound Aren started, pulled from the hazy realm of almost sleep. She would listen intently, wondering if Av had finally returned, only to feel betrayed when he did not arrive.
He had said he would be a few hours, that he would then return home to sleep. Nothing to worry about, concerning this meeting of his, it was the outcome that mattered, and that was why Aren stayed up. She told herself that she had to keep alert to hear from Av, the moment he returned, what the decision had been.
It had nothing to do with her not wanting to sleep alone, with the bed seeming too large or the fact that the bedspread smelled strongly of Av. Knowing night was passing, that it was almost morning, Aren curled on her side and resigned herself to sleeping alone.
She must have slept, for time had passed, yet Aren was unaware of more than closing her eyes for a moment and hearing a key fumble in the door. Sitting up, she blinked sleepily at the mid-morning sun streaming in through the windows. The whole world was awake and active yet she was still tired, stiff as she rose from the bed and rubbed at her eyes, trying to wake up before the door opened.
Av stepped in looking rumpled, tired, and a bit like he had gotten in a fight. His clothing was torn and dirtied by mud. Twigs were stuck in his hair.
“Where were you?” Aren asked.
“Out,” Av grumbled to the hearth before he stiffened, frowned and turned to Aren standing by the bed. He looked her over, head to toe, his body swaying slightly. “Those will have to do. I'm going to wash, and then we are leaving to meet Jer.”
“What for?” Aren asked.
“I already told you,” Av said, waving a hand dismissively before he stumbled to the bathing room.
“Are you drunk?” she said, crossing the distance to the door, closing it firmly and sliding the lock into place.
“No,” Av said. “Hung over. Fine. It's fine. Give me some time and we'll go.”
Av disappeared into the bathing room. Water could be heard running, and eventually the sound of splashing, of someone stepping under the water to wash.
Why were the pipes working if the lights did not work? Aren walked into the pantry and watched the light turn on, beaming brightly. She clamped her teeth and glared at the fixture. If Em had known Av was gone for the night, she may have cut off the flow of light to Av's home, left Aren in the dark on purpose. Em might not be able to shut off the servant toiletries that were off of the rooms in the family area, but that did not mean that Em could not stop the light that was going all the way from the palace to Av's home.
In the bathing room the water stopped. Aren stepped out of the pantry and closed the door. She busied herself with re-stacking the wood, since Aren did not want it to appear that she was waiting for Av. The man walked out of the bathing room looking groomed, and a good deal more awake.
Aren looked up as Av walked out and the two made eye contact. Av looked over Aren's shirt, then down to the table as if he might be able to look through the table.
“Those will have to do, perhaps there will be something you can wear out there,” Av said.
“We've already established that my clothing will do,” Aren said, irritated that he had simply walked in as if nothing were the matter.
“Aren, I do not drink often, I become intoxicated even more rarely,” Av said. “When I do become intoxicated I certainly do not spend the night in the woods, however circumstance called for it.”
She watched him placidly.
Av sighed. “How long were you up?”
“I don't know.”
“Fair enough.” Av walked to the door and unlocked, then opened it. “Why don't you come with me? I'd like to take you to a lovely cottage by a lake—four bedroom, living area, with fully working bathing room that can be converted to magic use whenever you please. Light fixtures installed. Nice quiet lake. Slightly populated but the others are hunters and trappers, so they keep mainly to themselves.”
“Oh,” Aren walked around the table and headed straight for Av. “Is that why you kept looking over my clothing?”
“Yes, we have to walk there,” Av said, motioning for Aren to leave first. “The inhabitants do not appreciate palace horses being taken over their roads.”
“Why not?” Aren asked.
She stepped onto the porch. Av followed close behind and locked the door behind them. He led her off the porch, towards the merchant gate.
“They do not like Em,” Av said sternly.
“Good morning to you, Aren,” Jer called, standing with two packs at his feet, an axe attached to his hip. “How did you sleep?”
“Poorly,” Aren responded. “Very poorly. Are these for Av and me?”
“I'm going with you,” Jer said, picking up one of the packs. “Av will carry the other. You just worry about keeping up with us.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Aren asked, her stomach grumbling.
“That these are heavy packs, filled with needed supplies, and they have been made at such a weight that Av and I can hike with them,” Jer said as Av took the second pack. “We don't know how much you can carry, but, begging my pardon, lady, women like you aren't meant to carry this much weight.”
“Ranks can carry packs.”
“He meant young women from middle to high wealth estates,” Av said to Aren.
“Oh,” Aren said, considering. “I suppose you have a point, but I don't feel right, not bringing anything with me.”
“You're bringing your pretty little self, that's more than enough,” Jer said.
“Now I'm just a pretty face?” Aren asked.
“She did not sleep long, Jer, don't even bother,” Av said, walking off to the merchant gate. “You know how some folk get when they don't get enough sleep. Aren, come along. We have almost half a day of walking before us and there is a bed on the other side.”
“Is there food on the other side as well?” Aren asked, refusing to budge without confirmation.
Jer chuckled. “About an hour away there's a village
; it's market day and they sell some fantastic pastries. I'll head in there, make a quick trade from my pack for a special supply, and we'll be on our way. Breakfast will be pastries but delicious and still warm.”
“Leave the axe, Jer,” Av called over his shoulder. “We don't really want to give him something freshly sharpened, do we?”
“I do,” Jer called after, walking towards Av.
Aren grumbled under her breath as she followed Jer, only half listening as the brothers debated back and forth over the axe. She didn't understand why the axe was so important. The debate continued for well over an hour, halting only when Jer walked off to the market, to make the trade and buy some pastries. When he returned, pack now bulging from the extra items purchased, Jer handed out the pastries, and the three of them continued on, eating as they walked.
The pastry was warm, as Jer had promised, wrapped around a cooked egg and chopped meat. Aren ate all of hers and accepted Av's when he offered it to her, then the leftovers from Jer. Both said that their stomachs were bothered, the events of the night before leaving a sourness to them.
Past the village, the brothers refused to speak to one another. They did speak to Aren, however. Av pointed out the small paths that led to family estates, the graveyard that hadn't been used in centuries, but was a reminder of how commoners once showed respect to the ranked members of the world. Aren only caught a glance through the trees of the carved stone statues, each depicting a warrior, queen, healer, or trainer who was buried there.
Jer pointed out the natural features of the land they walked through. He knew the names of each of the mountains, and the story of how each mountain had been named. He knew the moment the lake came into view, between the trees and still a ways off. Jer named the plants, told Aren about the animals in the general area.
Overhead the sun was far past zenith, late afternoon, almost early evening, when they finally stepped off the main road and onto a smaller trail. The trail was cared for but was not specifically marked. When they passed a rock bluer than Aren thought possible, speckled through with little white spots, Aren stared at it, reminded for a moment of something that was said to her. She could not recall why. Stepping onto the trail, she recalled that the stone was a marker for Jer's father's home.
