Moments later a pair of blue jays alighted on a branch of an apple tree below, their excited calls bouncing sharply off the northern face of the building. The King remembered what a voluminous word fest the first war council had turned into as he tried to corral the various factions into pursuing one common goal. A pleased smile formed beneath his ice blue eyes as he savored the coalition army’s victory over Drogin. But the satisfaction was brief as the indelible memories of the dead overshadowed that victory like a pall. A high price, though sadly necessary, had been paid. He vowed never to forget those who had sacrificed the best years of their lives to secure the liberty of so many others on either side of Lake LaShear.
He sighed, mentally preparing for the next march south, yet grateful that the Enâri would no longer be an obstacle. Thanks to Nicholas and Leo, the confrontation with Vellan would be a much more even match, though he still gave Vellan an edge. He recalled the morning in this room when he, Nedry and Tolapari had discussed details of Nicholas and Leo’s mission. Both young men admirably proved themselves at a task that he, on very rare occasions, had privately thought was a hopeless cause. Now with the elimination of the Enâri, the pieces on the game table were repositioned more in his favor, but King Justin knew he would have to strike fast and strike hard to gain the upper hand.
He breathed deeply again, happy that another matter was not as troubling. He now had no qualms about his granddaughter falling in love with a man like Leo Marsh and perhaps someday marrying him. Such a proposition may have been unthinkable before since Leo was not of royal lineage or wealthy social standing as were previous suitors who had tried to catch Megan’s eye in the past. Yet Leo’s deeds and manner spoke volumes about his character, surpassing that of others who had called upon his granddaughter. But since Megan possessed a stubborn streak much like his, the King knew in the end that she would have things her way in life, particularly in affairs of the heart. And that suited him just fine.
He next thought about Nicholas’ search for Ivy, wondering what had become of him after he undertook that desperate journey. But King Justin told himself not to give up hope despite Nicholas’ seemingly impossible odds. He thankfully had been proven wrong in his occasional nagging doubts in the matter of reforging the key, so why not again this time? He deeply wished it so.
As the minutes drifted by, the King stepped back from the window, not wanting to attend an upcoming meeting with some of his ministers regarding rather mundane affairs. But since it couldn’t be put off any longer–as Nedry had reminded him three times since yesterday–he began to close the window, preparing to face his tedious duty. Suddenly a gust of air squeezed through the opening and rustled a pair of long, thick drapes and a cluttered pile of parchment accumulating on a nearby table.
As he breathed in the blast of fresh air, faded recollections stirred in his mind like long forgotten items discovered tucked away in a musty storage trunk. Memories green, tender and full of warm light were awakened. He detected a subtle hint of fresh soil, sweet cedar and distant rain that revived delightful images from his youth and lightened the burdens of his heart. He sensed spring itself in the air, an eager spring trying to break through despite the last stubborn layer of winter still adhering to the hard ground, frosted rooftops and winding stone walls. And though the next breeze that slipped into the room again felt bitter and cold, King Justin took this brief episode as a sign that maybe, just maybe, an early spring was near.
He closed and latched the window with trembling hands and rushed out of the chamber. He needed to find Nedry to cancel the meeting with his ministers and arrange another one with King Rowan, Prince Gregory and a few others to discuss their journey south. With his heart racing, King Justin passed through the Citadel corridors like the wind itself, ready to cut loose his army as soon as possible to catch Vellan and his Island collaborators unprepared. Timing now was everything. It would either be his greatest ally or his worst enemy, all depending upon how he played his next move.
That same morning, Leo and Princess Megan were lost in quiet conversation, wandering hand in hand along snowy walkways through one of the Citadel’s courtyard gardens. Megan wore a sky-blue cloak, the hem trailing across the frozen ground, her dark brown hair flowing beneath the hood lying lightly upon her head. Leo was bundled in the long wool coat he had worn while hiking through the Dunn Hills. He also sported a pullover cap knitted by one of the seamstresses to keep him warm during his three days recuperating in bed after opening the Spirit Box. The young couple, alone in the courtyard, wandered past a snow-filled water fountain that had been drained last fall and now looked like some mythical creature that had curled up and fallen asleep for weeks among the melancholy surroundings. When they reached a stone bench along a row of hedges, Leo brushed off the snow upon it and they sat down. Megan took his hand in hers and looked at him with a quiet, hopeless sigh.
“So tell me again why you think you must go south with my grandfather’s army. Haven’t you done enough already for the cause?” she asked. “Father and Grandfather have both suggested as much. You needn’t prove yourself any further.”
Leo smiled and softly caressed her cheek. “You never seem to tire of this conversation,” he replied sweetly, “though I suppose I can’t blame you. But my answer hasn’t changed, Meg. I want to help in the war effort because I think I can make a genuine contribution. I know I’m not a warrior, but I can serve as a scout or in some similar capacity for your grandfather. I did find my way to Wolf Lake.”
“With Hobin’s help,” she added with a cheerless laugh.
“He’ll be with me again. Hobin wants to get out and about, too. Besides, he promised to keep an eye on me at your insistence,” he reminded her.
“Still…” Megan’s shoulders slumped, her breath rising above the hedges. “Leo, I’d think that destroying the Enâri race and nearly dying in the process should spare you from additional military duties. It would if I were in charge.”
“Some day if you’re queen of Arrondale, you can decree it so,” he joked, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her cheek.
“I’m being serious,” she replied, playfully pushing him away.
“I just think you’re going to miss me.”
“That too.”
Leo took her hand. “There is another reason I need to go, though I haven’t mentioned it,” he admitted, his tone now somber, his mood contemplative. “With a simple turn of a key, I destroyed the Enâri race, Meg. And though I don’t regret it because of the death and misery they’ve wrought, I still need to see the aftermath for myself. I want to travel to where the bulk of the Enâri once existed, though I don’t think there’ll be much left of them to actually see. But you understand, don’t you?”
“I’m trying to.”
“Meg, I know Vellen created and bred the Enâri to do the awful things that they did–and they had to be stopped–but it’s not a deed I can just shake off after the fact. I thought I would be able to, but…” Leo looked into her eyes, seeking comfort. “I have dreams about it, tiring and uneasy images that fill my sleeping hours. I dream about the spirit that nearly suffocated me in the upper chamber, but in those dreams the windows never shatter outward and–” He took a deep breath and looked at the ground, wondering if it was a mistake to mention this to Megan and worry her even more. “But thankfully, I always wake up just before…”
Megan gently squeezed his hand and smiled lovingly at him. “I’m sorry, Leo. I never thought about your ordeal in those terms. I wish you had told me earlier.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t want to make a fuss. But it’s nothing. People elsewhere are facing worse things right now than wrestling with some silly dreams.”
“It’s not nothing. And if you really think you need to march south to–to Kargoth,” she said, her voice quavering, “then I suppose I’ll understand. I’ll have to.”
Leo lifted her hand and kissed it. “I appreciate that, Meg, especially since I’m abandoning you again.”
“W
ell, I didn’t want to make a fuss either,” she said with light humor. “Still, we’ve had a wonderful winter together during your recovery, so I suppose you’ve earned some time out of the Citadel.” Megan shook her head with disappointment. “Yet I do regret keeping you from visiting your family in Minago.”
“They’re doing fine according to the post I received last week,” he reminded her, “though I kept some of the unpleasant details out of my letter that your grandfather’s scout delivered during his errands in the east. I’ll save the more dreadful particulars when I speak to my parents face to face.”
“Perhaps that’s best,” she agreed.
“And don’t ever think that I regretted even a minute of this long, lovely winter spent here with you,” he added, kissing her softly on the lips. “These have been the best weeks of my life.”
Megan blushed in the cool winter air. “Mine too.”
“Which brings me to another subject I’ve wanted to address for a while. I, uh…” Leo reached into his coat pocket, nervously searching for something. “When we visited my parents after our little adventure along the grasslands, I gave them the money from the apple sales I made up north. My father immediately paid me my share as he always does.”
“That seems ages ago,” she replied. “But why are you telling me this?”
“Because I didn’t spend all the money,” he continued, eliciting a curious look from Megan. “I kept a silver and a copper half piece safely tucked away in my pocket.”
“What exactly do you plan to do with all those riches?” she inquired with a grin.
“It’s what I’ve already done with them that I want to show you,” he said, removing a small item from his pocket. Leo placed a silver chain in the palm of her hand. Attached to it were two interlocking metal rings, finely crafted from the two coins, one of copper and one of silver. “One of the smithies in the Citadel made it for me. Now I’m giving it to you, Megan. I hope it’ll remind you of me–and of us–while I’m gone.”
“Leo, it’s beautiful!” she said, on the verge of tears. She held it up to catch the dull winter light. “I’ll wear it always.”
“I hoped you might like it, especially since Ivy still has your royal silver medallion. I know it’s not the same thing…”
“…but it’s wonderful just the same,” she replied, kissing him. “I suppose the two rings represent the rising Fox and Bear full moons, just like the image engraved on my medallion. That celestial event augurs good fortune, Leo.”
He nodded, an awkward smile upon his face. “Well, it could represent that, Meg. But that lunar phenomenon occurs about every eight months. I was thinking this little trinket might have an even more special meaning.”
“I can’t wait to hear,” she replied excitedly. “But first fasten it around my neck, please. I’m so eager to show it off.”
“Show it off? Uh, perhaps you should wear it underneath your blouse,” he suggested as she handed him the necklace. “Just as you did with your medallion.”
“I suppose I could do that,” she halfheartedly agreed, “though I’m still eager for others to see it.”
“Yes, well about that,” he said as he slipped the chain around Megan’s neck, her back to him as he carefully locked the clasp. “I gave this to you for another reason.”
“Oh?” she asked, fingering the pair of rings with a smile as she turned to face Leo.
He smiled back as the glow of winter softly touched her cheeks. “I don’t know if I’m doing this properly, you being a princess and all, but I…” Leo swallowed hard, his heart beating rapidly. “I want to marry you, Megan, and this charm is a small token of my love for you. The two rings represent us, together forever. And should you accept it–”
“I do!” she said, the two simple words reaching Leo’s ears as pleasingly as the sweet scent of pine and apple blossom wafting upon a spring breeze. “And I will.” Leo’s eyebrows rose questioningly. “Marry you, of course!”
He burst out in a wide grin. “You will?”
Megan nodded, unable to stop smiling. “Yes, and without a second thought.”
Leo hugged Megan and held her tightly, never having felt so alive and wishing the two of them could start their lives together right now. When he leaned back, a shade of anxious worry spread across his face. “But I just had a second thought. Do I need to ask your father’s permission first?” He swallowed hard again. “Or your grandfather’s?”
Megan’s jaw dropped. She raised her hands to her face in sudden alarm. Leo paled instantly and shuddered, believing he had committed the worst royal offense imaginable. But an instant later, she broke out in a smile and brushed her fingers alongside his cheeks. “I’m only teasing,” she said. “We’ll ask them together, Leo. That would be best, I think.”
“Still, do you think I did the right thing? Maybe I should have waited until after I returned from down south before springing this upon you. But honestly, a part of me didn’t want to wait.”
“I’m glad you didn’t, Leo,” she replied, her moment of elation tempered with the knowledge that he would soon be leaving her. “I do love you, and though my wait for you will be miserably difficult when you march off with my grandfather’s army, this moment, and your lovely gift, will make it much more bearable.” Megan kissed him and held up the silver and copper rings, gazing at them with delight before looking at Leo with uncertainty.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m wondering if…” She attempted a smile. “Will we have a summer wedding? Or perhaps in the autumn?” Her melancholy words seemed merely a simple inquiry on the timing of the event. Yet beneath the surface, though she tried to ignore it, Megan couldn’t help but wonder if the wedding would ever take place at all.
Leo sensed her unspoken apprehension and took her hands in his. “It will be a lovely wedding, whatever the season,” he assured her. “I promise.”
They smiled at one another and kissed again in the courtyard garden. A late-winter breeze rustled through the hedgerow and across the snowy paths, a vague hint of springtime buried somewhere within the mischievous and fitful currents.
CHAPTER 92
Through the Gates of the Citadel
The following morning, Nedry strolled past an open window on the third level of the Blue Citadel, a stream of cool air replacing the stale ambiance within. Slightly hunched over, his gray hair disheveled, he mirrored the melancholy vista of winter’s last days lingering upon the gently rolling hills of the southern countryside. He glanced out the window as he walked by and then suddenly stopped, taking a step back and pressing his face to the breezy opening. Sauntering up the road outside the main gates of the courtyard were two of King Justin’s scouts upon horses outfitted with gear from the royal stables. They had departed ten days ago to gauge the conditions of the southern roads and terrain should the King decide to unleash his army in the days, rather than weeks, ahead.
Nedry felt a burst of energy and bounded down the corridor to find King Justin. He was just as eager as the King to launch the army, hoping and praying each day for Vellan’s defeat. As King Justin’s primary advisor, this was the last item on his agenda that he felt he must see through to the end. After that, he looked forward to a quiet retirement. Nedry could no longer handle sleepless nights and chronic indigestion due to a constant string of hastily eaten lunches and dinners–or from too many missed meals altogether. He advised himself that it was time to take life at a slower pace while galloping down a stairway and then racing through a corridor to find the monarch.
To King Justin’s delight, the two scouts provided him the detailed report he had hoped for through fretful days and sleepless nights. Prince Gregory and King Rowan, who were also present, offered their agreement as the King appeared to favor the army’s swift departure. Prince William and Nedry listened attentively in chairs off to the side.
“The snow is thin beyond the hills south of Morrenwood, but the fields and main roads are still hard from winter,” one of th
e scouts said in the King’s private study overlooking the encampment a mile away in the eastern field. “The way will be easily passable until the first spring rains arrive in the weeks ahead.”
“I’m not worried about mud right now,” King Justin said. “Only the high snows.”
“Much of it has blown across the plains,” the other scout remarked. “As far down as the northern arm of the Red Mountains, snow has been light since late winter. Word there is that the first months of winter were harsh, but an early spring seems likely.”
King Rowan cast a sharp eye upon his fellow monarch as they sat near a fire. “Perhaps fate or other unseen forces are preparing the way, Justin, urging you swiftly ahead to this final confrontation with Vellan.” He sat back in his chair and folded his arms, a black, gray and white checkered tunic visible beneath a heavy woolen shirt. “I would back your decision to leave early even if Caldurian and his followers hadn’t invaded my kingdom,” he added, his voice steady and assured as he looked into the fire. “Vellan has been a menace for decades. He must pay for his ill deeds! He must pay for his crimes and those committed at his behest, especially those against–”
King Rowan abruptly stopped speaking, gripping the arm of his chair like a vice. As he glanced up at the others, he caught their compassionate gazes, including that of his grandson. All stared back with respectful silence, guessing that Brendan was foremost on the King’s mind. He smiled awkwardly and sighed.
“It’s apparent that my support for a quick resolution isn’t totally for altruistic reasons,” he continued sheepishly. “I suppose a thirst for revenge, however much I deny it, has tainted my words.”
Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy) Page 144
