by M. D. Laird
Eve felt relieved. She was relieved that the quorum hadn’t descended into the shouting and arguing that was becoming commonplace and her new rules were in place with no more obstacles than a few folded arms, frowns and glares. She wished she had not put it off for so long.
What Eve was most relieved about was the change in opinion from the demons. Prince Avalon supported her request to double her guard and gave a speech about how he had rethought his opinion on her abilities. He had stated that if Eve was to fade out then the power could either be inherited or accessed by another—possibly an enemy—and while the power was within their alliance, they should do everything they could to protect Eve.
Avalon had also drafted a letter to send to the heralds to inform the public of this and had added that attacks on the queen would be viewed as an attack on Arkazatinia itself and would not be treated with any leniency.
Eve felt her shoulders relax as though a weight had been lifted from her. She had felt permanently on the verge of tears recently, and this lessened. Well, it lessened until Captain Leliel presented her with her post. The captain had been reading her post for her to remove any abusive or threatening letters. He handed her a letter from the king of Axandria.
The king expressed his disappointment that Eve had not yet met with his son—her betrothed—and he questioned if she was taking the matter seriously. He kindly requested that she meet with the prince urgently to plan their nuptials.
“Should I arrange for another trip to Axandria, Your Majesty?” the captain asked.
She sighed. “Yes, though I will hopefully have recruited more guards before I have to go so I am not dragging you all away again. I know I ask too much of you.”
“We are honoured to perform our role, Your Majesty. Though it would be easier to perform our decree if we had more guards whilst you require increased security.”
“Son Jacob has said that he will start recruiting immediately. I will take my new guard to Axandria and give the rest of you a break.”
“That is kind, Your Majesty. However, as Captain of the Guard, I feel it is my duty to accompany you on your visit. We do not trust the Axandrian king, and I cannot, in good conscience, delegate the responsibility for your protection to a new guard.”
“That is noble of you, Captain, but I have impeded on your time enough.”
“Your Majesty, please allow me this honour. As long as I am able to perform my decree and meditate, which you have always respected, then I am content with my time.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Captain.”
“May I speak freely, Your Majesty?”
“Of course.”
“I am concerned that your marriage to Prince Henry may not be enough for the king and he will put Arkazatinia at risk to accomplish his true aims.”
She sighed, “I have the same concerns, but he has backed me into a corner by threatening war. We can win a war against Axandria but at what cost? We cannot win a war without casualties, and I cannot risk the lives of my people—not again and not so soon after the Alchitch.”
“The king will likely keep threatening Arkazatinia.”
“I know,” she said sadly. “And one day we may have to resort to war if the alternative is to make adamantine weapons, but while the sacrifice is only marriage, then I will do it to keep us from war.”
“The sacrifice is your freedom and your happiness.”
“Yes. But it is a small price to pay to save the lives of my people.”
“I hope you find a solution, Your Majesty,” the angel said softly. “I know we have had our differences, but I do not wish to see you unhappy. Not just because I am your guard and you are my queen, but I also consider you a friend.”
She gave him a teary smile. “Thank you, Leliel. You don’t know what that means to me—after everything that has happened and everything I have done. I consider you a friend too—all my guards.”
Leliel placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her as she cried. She cursed herself for crying again. She looked into Leliel’s eyes, and he gave her hope. Hope that no matter what happened, her guards would be there for her, and they would protect her.
Eve woke the next morning surrounded by another cold Calab Hallward was sitting in the parlour when Eleanor and Prince Thomas finally arrived home. Eleanor was tired and in desperate need of a hot bath, but she went with Thomas to hear what Mr Hallward had discovered.
“I have stumbled across a weapon inventory,” said Mr Hallward, seeming pleased and handing them his vox with the image of the document.
Thomas glanced over the document. “This could be anything,” he said. “It doesn’t say they are made from adamantine.”
Mr Hallward grinned. “No,” he said. “But the list also includes balverine skin pommel guards.”
“Ah,” said Thomas, smiling.
Eleanor felt puzzled. “What does that mean?”
“Adamantine can’t burn through balverine skin. They are likely using it to protect the wielders from burns.”
“Why not?”
“You know the legends of the balverine?”
“That they are shape shifters and were cast out of Hell because they were cursed?” asked Eleanor, raking her memory for childhood stories.
“Something like that,” said Mr Hallward. “They were ordinary men who had been sent to Hell. They had tried to escape the torment of the fire and chains by bargaining with a witch. The witch cast a spell to protect them from the heat but it cursed them, and they became the hideous beasts they are today. Hell is only for man, and as they had fur and fangs, they were cast out of Hell. They can’t escape suffering, though. They wanted to escape the fire, so Hell sent them to the frozen wastes of Arkazatinia and Axandria—also home to the witches who had to share their home with them as punishment for casting the spell.
“Ironically, the witches now sacrifice them in ritual magic, so their suffering is prolonged. They always come back as a balverine following sacrifice and can never die permanently. Anyway, because of their curse, their skin can be used to guard against the heat of adamantine.”
“They’re the perfect creature for hunting,” said Thomas. “No matter how many you kill; you can never affect their numbers because they are always reborn. There were six hundred and sixteen—three hundred and eight on each continent—and this is always so.”
“Do they taste nice? I’ve never heard of anyone eating them,” said Eleanor.
“They are cursed, so they are likely to be foul,” said Thomas nonchalantly. “Anyway, enough of the history lesson. It seems, then, highly probable that this inventory refers to a list of adamantine weapons and we can be confident that the cache is stored in the bunker we found.”
“We don’t know who the second adamantist is, though,” said Eleanor.
“No,” said Thomas. “But we know more than we did a few days ago.”
“Can we not just have Queen Genevieve empty the bunker?” asked Eleanor.
“That would likely cause a war,” said Mr Hallward. “It isn’t as though we can pretend it wasn’t her.”
“But we would be disarming the king of a lethal arsenal. Surely it is worth the risk?”
“An arsenal he has had for three hundred years,” said Thomas. “We can probably wait a little while longer to see if we can discover his plans—we have scouts on the bunker anyway.”
“We have been in a rush so far,” said Eleanor, exasperated.
“I wanted to know where and how your father got the adamantine. We know that now, we know he has weapons and we can keep watch in case he makes a move, but our priority needs to be getting him off the throne. We need to meet with the rebels and the sons to get their support to reinstate the Crown.”
Eleanor groaned. “We could have been doing that for the last few days instead of chasing adamantine trails.”
“The fact that the king has adamantine weapons may help us to convince allies to offer their support,” said Mr Hallward.
“Yes,” said Eleanor. “I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry, I am just tired from travelling around the world. My body barely knows what day it is or whether it is day or night.”
Thomas rolled his eyes. “Send a letter to the rebels to arrange a meeting for tomorrow evening. We’ll visit the angel guilds tonight and tomorrow. Sleep now if you want.”
Eleanor gave a relieved sigh and left the parlour to have a hot bath and crawl into bed.
Eve decided to sleep in the vector during the journey to visit the Guild of Rexalis and then travel home the same day. She could not bear the thought of staying at the king’s guild and she did not think Thomas would welcome her into his guild anytime soon. More than that, she did not want to impose on Calab or involve herself in his and the Sonneillons’ treasonous plans.
Eve arrived at the guild a little before lunch and an hour earlier than she had told the king. She was seated in the parlour until the king and her betrothed were ready to receive her.
“Good morning, Your Majesty,” said the king. “May I present Henry of Rexalis, Crown Prince of Axandria.”
Eve had stood as they entered and curtsied towards the prince. “I’m honoured to meet you, Your Highness,” she lied.
The prince was handsome of course, as all thorian are, though he wore an arrogant sneer and simply nodded towards her rather than bow. Eve wondered when it started to bother her if she wasn’t treated with propriety. She shuddered. It wasn’t the lack of a bow that irritated her, rather that he hadn’t done it despite it being customary. His avoidance of the gesture was a message.
The king left Eve and the prince to become better acquainted.
“I apologise for my father’s insistence that you travel all this way,” Prince Henry said. “I was quite satisfied with meeting you on our wedding day.” The prince stared disinterestedly out of the window and across the lawns.
“When is that likely to be?”
He turned to look at her. “I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t exactly been pushing the matter.”
“I assume you are not thrilled with an arranged marriage either?” She smiled awkwardly.
“I don’t mind. No offence, Your Majesty, but it is this match that displeases me.”
Eve didn’t respond and sipped at her tea for something to do with her hands other than wring them in her lap.
“Not that you’re not attractive,” he continued. “And I’m sure you’re very nice. It’s just that, as Crown Prince, I was expecting to marry a maiden who could provide me with an heir—I have waited long enough. Instead, I have to marry—” He stopped short as if he had just realised he was speaking aloud. “Anyway, I mean no offence.”
“None taken,” she said, lying again.
Why am I so offended that he doesn’t want to marry me? I don’t want to marry him.
She sighed. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself? What you like to do. If you’re going to be living in my guild, then—”
“Your Majesty, this isn’t necessary,” he said. “We don’t have to make small talk and be polite and all that nonsense. We both know that neither of us wants this so we may as well just say our vows, consummate the marriage and then stay out of each other’s way.”
Eve fumed at his abruptness. “I would at least like to know something about the man I am marrying.”
“Fine.” He smiled arrogantly. “Send your guards out of the room.”
“Excuse me?”
“Father told me you’re not a virgin. If you want to get to know me, then we can start there.”
What an obnoxious, arrogant—
Eve glared at him. She did not know how to respond and for once she was left speechless. This was not at all what she expected from their meeting. She expected him to, at least, be polite.
I can’t believe I have to marry this…this…
She couldn’t even find a strong enough insult.
A servant arrived in the parlour to announce lunch and Eve stood and followed the servant to the dining room.
The meal was awkward. The prince continued to sneer at Eve and the king continued with his usual overly enthusiastic attempts at friendliness. Eve was glad that she had told the king that she couldn’t stay. Though she couldn’t get away without him inviting her to his office to make plans.
Eve sat before him, her guards stood against the wall.
“Can they not wait outside?” asked the king.
“They are under their generals’ command. They will not follow my orders to leave me.”
“I see.” The king bristled. “I would like you to commit to a date to marry the Crown Prince. You may choose if it is here in Axandria or in Arkazatinia, but I want it to be settled soon.”
“He is not happy to marry me,” said Eve.
“He will give you no trouble.”
She nodded. She wanted to tell the king that she didn’t want to force the prince into marriage, but she worried what the king might do to the prince. The prince was an ass, but she couldn’t bear him being whipped like Eleanor.
“I should like to be married at home,” she said. “I would like an autumn wedding.”
It was still winter—an autumn wedding would buy her a good few months.
“It’s autumn soon in the south of the continent,” said the king. “Arrange it for April.”
No. No. No! I need time to get out of this.
“I would prefer Eurasia in September. That’s my home.”
“I’ve heard that you’re very fond of the fae realm and the Laurentian forests. That will be beautiful in April—there is no need to delay.”
“Of course,” she replied.
“That’s settled then.” The king smiled. “I will allow you to make the arrangements so you can have the details to your taste, but I need you to sign this espousal document confirming your intention to marry. Prince Henry has already signed it, and it requires only your signature for it to be official.”
Eve leant on the desk to read through the document. She barely noticed the content of the document as she suddenly became distracted by the heat coming through the desk. Part of the desk was cool and the centre was hot. She hadn’t felt heat like it since she touched the walls of her cell in Calab’s dungeon when it had been panelled to prevent her from burning herself on the adamantine.
Eve tried to look like she was still reading and released a ribbon of magic to explore the table.
He has adamantine! Oh my God. Someone else must have that second power.
She hadn’t even read the document. She couldn’t focus on it.
“It seems fine, though I will just have my captain look over it,” she said calmly.
Leliel quickly read through the paper. “This makes your betrothal official, Your Majesty. It is not legally binding, though it does require you to honour the contract as you would your marriage.”
“Meaning?”
“You are to remain faithful, and you are a couple in the eyes of your people.”
“Am I expected to… Before the wedding do I…”
“No, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
Eve signed the document and returned it to the king.
“Excellent.” The king smiled. “I shall hope to hear from you soon, Daughter.”
Eve nodded. “I shall contact you with the date.”
“The king has adamantine in his desk,” Eve blurted to her guards as soon as they were in the air.
“Are you sure?” asked Captain Leliel, alarmed.
“I am positive. This means that there is someone out there with the other alchemist powers and they are allied with the king. He probably already has adamantine weapons.” She held her head in her hands. “This is terrible. I have to do something.”
“Where would he get adamantine?”
“I don’t know. One of the demon princes must have let the king exploit that loophole he mentioned.” She sighed
heavily. “I wish I could midspace. I need to see what is in the desk. I didn’t have time to explore it thoroughly, but it felt like a box or maybe the drawer. The king must be hiding something there.”
“You can’t snoop in the king’s office, Your Majesty. If you’re caught, then—”
“I need to learn to do whatever it was the Alchitch did to hide themselves. I have the power to do that. I just don’t know how. I’m going to need to practice. We will keep this between us for now. I don’t want to risk war.”
“Of course, Your Majesty, but even if you master Cloaking, we can’t let you enter the king’s guild alone, and if we go then we’ll break our decree.”
Damn it.
“If I can master Cloaking, then I will be safe on my own.”
“We can’t let you, Your Majesty.”
Why is nothing ever simple.
“I want to practice anyway,” she said. “It is bound to come in useful.”
The first two weeks on camp were spent training in the morning and with the carpenters in the afternoon. The morning session was much as Maol had always known—he would give instructions and make corrections to help the men and the women on the island to improve their swordsmanship. It was the afternoon where he felt truly liberated. The foreman was hominem, which once would have sent Maol into a temper—old Maol would never have taken orders from hominem—but he listened and did as he was instructed. Maol knew nothing about sawing timber or building houses, but, after two weeks, he was becoming proficient. He found it hard but thoroughly enjoyable work. He stayed on late most nights in his last week as he was keen to finish the cabin he was working on and was thrilled to hammer the final nail and walk through the door of the finished house.
Next, he moved on to work with the blacksmiths. They made horseshoes, cutlery, kitchen tools and weapons. Maol noted that everything seemed to take an awfully long time to make—especially the swords.
“Wouldn’t it just be easier to employ an alchemist?” Maol asked Samuel, the head blacksmith.
