The Watchers in Exile

by Barbara V. Evers

  Adana recalled the first day she met Honest, how he had studied the two of them and used minor differences to determine which one was his queen. “But Shana is not a Watcher or a queen. Can she fool them?”

  Montee nodded. “She managed to hide her identity from you for several weeks. She’s spent time with us and knows more than most about Watchers. And I don’t think Maligon cares if you are a Watcher or not. Many people expect your skills to be diminished since you’ve been in Elwar.”

  Adana grimaced at the last statement, but she knew it to be true.

  “You support this idea?” She turned toward Montee.

  Montee studied Brother Honest for several breaths. Adana counted each inhalation as she waited—one, two, three, four.

  “I’m willing to hear him out,” the First Vision said. “To see how he proposes we make this happen.”

  Adana sat back in her chair and stared at Montee. Could she really consider this an option? What was going on in her First Vision’s mind? Thanks to their three-year separation, the woman remained a mystery in many ways.

  Brother Honest continued. “Maligon is blind to his own desires; he’ll see Shana as he wants her to be, not who she is.”

  “There will be people who know the difference,” Adana said.

  “True,” Montee said, “but if she convinces them for a short while, it may be enough time to protect you from Maligon’s men during the battle. If they think you are in their camp, they will not look for you on the battlefield. And if Maligon discovers he holds Shana, he might decide to claim she’s you. Why else would Sarx choose a woman who looks like you to infiltrate your companions?”

  “Are we sure she doesn’t work for Sarx?” Adana voiced the fear that still plagued her. Now that they plotted to aim this imposter at the Seat of Authority, she wished for Kassa’s wisdom and guidance about what to do.

  The thought shocked Adana like a slap in the face. After complaining that no one trusted her with decisions or information, she wished for just the opposite. Her mother had told her she’d become a queen when she didn’t desire the role.

  Maybe she was a queen, now.

  “She finds Sarx disgusting. She despises the man.” Honest got up and poured wine into three cups. He gave one to Adana and another to Montee. “You can trust her to help you return to the Seat of Authority.”

  Adana set wine aside, distracted by his words. “Once again, we come to someone giving me my Seat. Why does it have to be given to me?”

  Montee opened her mouth to answer, but Adana waved her off. “No. I understand. I’m just tired of hearing it. So, if I agree, how do you propose we actually carry out your plan? Is Shana agreeable?”

  “I believe she will be. She wants to prove herself to you. She told me she’d never felt any value in her life before she came to you.”

  Could Sarx’s questionable gift of a companion be the answer to her problems? A true gift? There were so many unknown variables. Would Pultarch take the bait? Would Maligon accept Shana or discard her? Adana surprised herself with a twinge of concern over that thought. What would happen to Shana if they discovered her true identity?

  “It’s very dangerous for her.”

  Montee nodded. “Yes, but no more dangerous than going with us into battle.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 32

  Maligon’s men followed Samantha as best as they could, but they slowed her down. Not only were they poor soldiers, they didn’t have the training or stamina to run long distances without stopping. On horseback, they might keep up, but Maligon kept the horses for his calvary.

  When Samantha spotted signs of a recent passage of soldiers, she thanked the Creator’s providence. If the squad ahead of them planned to join Maligon, she could leave the dead weight of these men with them and go on ahead.

  She needed to collect on the promises made by Kalara’s father.

  As a gentle rain began, they approached the perimeter of a camp. Three men stepped out of the trees and barred her path. They wore common clothes, but their armbands of red, green, and blue stripes indicated their allegiance to Maligon.

  “Who’s in charge here?” she asked as she approached the men.

  At a nod from the one on the left, the middle soldier turned and trotted through the trees toward the camp. The man on the left studied her for a moment before he spoke. “What business does a Watcher have with a small band of families fleeing Maligon?”

  “Families?” Samantha walked closer while the two men drew their swords. “You wear Maligon’s colors. He’s not in the habit of picking up stray families. Strays? Yes, if they serve his purpose, but not families. Too much of a strain on his reserves.”

  “State your name.” The one on the left spoke again, his voice firm with command. The soldier on the right kept an eye on her companions, who stood behind her, quiet for once.

  “Samantha.”

  The soldier sucked air between his crooked teeth. “King Micah is dead.”

  The phrase required the correct response from her, or she wouldn’t gain entrance. “The usurper has fallen.”

  Both soldiers bowed in respect. “You are welcome here, Watcher Samantha. I hear our commander approaching.”

  As he spoke, a man in black breeches and a loose, tan shirt strode out of the trees. On his shoulder was a patch of purple glimmer cloth, representing his higher rank in Maligon’s army. He stopped in front of her. “So, we meet, Watcher Samantha. I am pleased to find you well. The Lord will be thrilled at the news of your arrival.” He glanced at the soldiers who trailed behind her. “Does your presence with this sniper crew indicate success in the giraffe attack?”

  She frowned in displeasure as she glanced back at the men. “Unfortunately, no. These men failed in their mission.”

  Sharp, dark eyes looked past her, and a frown turned the commander’s face to stone. “Failures? We will hear their report.” He turned back to Samantha. “What service might I offer the new First Vision?”

  Ecstasy ran down her spine at his words. True to his word, Maligon had already told his officers of her new rank. She stood tall and addressed the man as her inferior. “I require food and water. These men slow me down so I will leave them with you. I must reach the main force.”

  Within the hour, she had her supplies and left the camp and men behind. As she ran, her long legs responded to her need, and she covered ground quickly. Based on the commander’s information, she would speak with Maligon before nightfall.

  * * *

  Samantha paused at the crest of a low-lying hill and gazed down onto the teeming mass of soldiers. The camp sprawled across the plains a short distance from Adana’s View. Within a day, this force could be camped outside the gates. Her breathing quickened at the thought of striding into the fortress as First Vision, the highest-ranking person in Moniah besides the queen. Would Maligon allow her to lead the charge?

  His guards had already spotted her and ran up the hill. She waited, eager to identify herself and receive the homage she deserved.

  Moments later, the guards led her to the middle of the camp. She walked with her head held high, her steps strong and confident, enjoying the whispers of recognition as she strode past the men dedicated to aiding her in achieving her birthright. She would be First Vision. She would advise the queen in her rule. All Watchers would follow her lead. If they didn’t, they would die. She would reign over all of them.

  A wide expanse of ground separated Maligon’s tent from those surrounding it. The flags of Moniah, Elwar, Belwyn, and Teletia flapped in the breeze. She had to smile at the display. Kalara had told her he was determined.

  As she thought of Maligon’s daughter, the tent flap was drawn back, and Kalara stood before her, a smile on her face. “Samantha, you’ve come. What a joy to see you.” She placed her right fist over her left breast and bowed her head. “The Lord is anxious to hear of the death of the giraffe.”

  Samantha paused mid-stride, suddenly unsure of her reception. The giraffe liv
ed. It wasn’t her fault, but he lived.

  * * *

  Samantha jogged away from Maligon’s camp, heading north. Her ears still burned after the violence of the Lord’s response to her news. Kalara had remained by her side during the onslaught. When Samantha took a step to approach and strike him for his insolence, Kalara’s hand stayed her. Eventually, his tirade shifted to the failures of the men he’d sent instead of her own actions.

  Still, Maligon’s order jolted her when it came—gain access to the fortress and aid the cause from inside the walls.

  She must continue her masquerade as Adana’s loyal Watcher. It grated on her nerves as she ran across the grounds of her birth.

  The flat lands stretched before her, and she covered ground quickly. Soon, she would look upon Adana’s View again. She couldn’t enjoy the welcome sight with Maligon’s anger fresh on her mind, though.

  To avoid suspicion from inside the walls, she took a circuitous route to the fortress, heading out into the plains that stretched below the southern cliffs. If she approached from the southeast, Linus would never suspect her of tangling with Maligon. Anyone wanting to gain access to the sieged fortress would have to convince the First Soldiers to lift them on the rope and pulley system that scaled the cliffs behind the sprawling walls. She had no doubt the commander of the First Soldiers would approve her entrance.

  She smiled at the prospect of standing in the Great Hall again, but this time as the First Vision. It was all she’d ever wanted, to hold the position that had been important enough to keep her mother at a distance from her. She became a high-ranked Watcher to seek out her mother’s attention and achieved every promotion as soon as she could. Still, her efforts never prompted the acknowledgment she deserved. Soon, the old woman would have no choice. Bow before her daughter or die.

  The sheer cliff wall protecting the southern side of the fortress loomed above Samantha as those thoughts assuaged her bruised ego. She waved a yellow strip of glimmer cloth signifying she had news to report. Once the soldiers recognized her, they shouted greetings and lowered the sling down the steep drop. Samantha climbed aboard and looped her foot into the rope as they pulled her up the high walls of stone. The plains spread out before her in a panoramic view. A herd of elephants wandered in the distance, and zebras gathered under some trees to the east.

  She breathed in and gave a deep sigh of relief, enjoying the smell of heat, sand, and rock, mingled with the fragrance of flowers drifting on the breeze. Home.

  A hearty voice greeted her as she dismounted. “I couldn’t believe the reports, so I came to witness your arrival myself.”

  Linus, the commander of the First Soldiers, stood before her, a huge grin splitting the heavy beard on his face. His eyes sparkled with gladness as he grabbed her in a hug.

  She stiffened at first, but relaxed under his embrace, aware this was an intimacy Montee relinquished when she usurped Samantha as First Vision. Foolish woman. She should have forfeited the title and chosen the man instead. When Samantha took charge, she would do away with the stupid rule preventing the First Vision from having a personal relationship with the commander of the First Soldiers. She would take the title and maybe even this man to spite Montee.

  “How fares the queen?” Linus stepped back and looked into her face, worry darkening his brown eyes.

  “I’ve been separated from her since the attacks in the forest. The tide of battle pushed me farther west, so I’ve been in the Border Keep.”

  Linus’ frown deepened. “You didn’t feel the need to find her? To go after her?”

  “I joined King Kiffen in the keep and aided the queen by providing a Watcher presence for him.”

  “I don’t understand.” Linus glanced around at the curious soldiers surrounding them. He turned to walk toward the military wing away from prying ears.

  Samantha followed him.

  When Linus stopped, he turned to her, a frown creasing his forehead. “You are a member of the Honor Guard. The oaths require you to follow the queen no matter where she goes.”

  Frustration mounted in her chest. This man’s opinion wouldn’t count in a few short days. “Were you in the battle? Did you fight off the traitors from Elwar?” Samantha kept her voice low as she stepped closer to Linus. “It wasn’t possible to remain with the queen. I did what I could.”

  Would he accept her explanation? She watched his gaze shift toward the walls as he battled with his expectations. Finally, his brow relaxed, and a shadow of his welcoming smile returned to his face. “Forgive me, Samantha. So much of our current situation defies explanation. I’m frustrated, stuck, waiting for the battle to come. And Maligon sits less than a day beyond our gates. I am glad to have your help.”

  “I am glad to be here.”

  “But?” Linus paused, an apology crossing his face. “I must ask. If you were at the Border Keep, how did you get here? Has Kassa sent you? I haven’t received a bird from the keep in days.”

  “Yes. She sent me when we discovered someone had released all the pigeons. None have returned, so she wanted me to come to you and share the little bit of news I have.”

  The tension in Linus’ shoulders visibly relaxed. “Father Tonch will be pleased to see you. Ever since his arrival, he has worried over the lack of news from the keep.”

  Samantha paused for a moment, unsure how to respond to the Keeper of the Faith’s presence. She took less than a breath before continuing her ruse. With her arm tucked in Linus’, an action she and Montee hadn’t taken since the three of them had been raised to their official statuses over ten years ago, she smiled up at him. “I am pleased to know he is here, but I would love to eat and bathe first, dear friend. Then we will discuss the coming battle and how we’ll deal with the traitor.”

  She didn’t bother to tell him who the traitor was, secure in his belief she meant Maligon.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 33

  Clothes lay flung across the bed, the floor—anywhere they landed—while Leera dug through her chests and wardrobe closet. What had happened to the ring? She had crawled around the floor, peering under the large pieces of furniture, but the ring and its box weren’t there. She should have noticed where she threw it. Had Hanna found it on the floor and tucked it away in a drawer or chest. Or had the maid stolen it?

  In the middle of the night, she’d decided to escape. She might not be granted access to the castle, but from her window, yesterday, she had noticed an increase in soldiers and nobles. Laughter and celebration rang in their voices. They moved with energized steps. Something had happened. Something bad for Kiffen. She needed to find a way out and get to Sariah. If she gave the Protector of the Faith the ring, she could take it to Kiffen.

  In the midst of her digging, Leera discovered the green Watcher’s uniform Adana had made for her was missing. She chewed her lip, trying to figure out where her mother might hide it. Her plan depended on the ring for Kiffen and the uniform to help her leave. Without the camouflage, her plan to escape out the window to the narrow ledge would never work. Not in a dress, anyway.

  Leera sighed and gave up the search for a moment. She stood at the window, pushing damp curls away from her forehead. The plan had felt perfect in the long hours of the night, but in daylight, the distance from the ledge to the first secure footing was farther than she realized. Did she dare risk it? Without the leggings and tunic?

  She dropped into a chair.

  When Queen Quilla entered the chamber sometime later, Leera didn’t care how her mother might interpret the disarray of clothing. She just lifted her gaze to her mother’s frowning face and shrugged.

  Queen Quilla surveyed the mess for some time, then her gaze settled back on Leera with exaggerated maternal concern. “Are you well, Leera? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d been attacked.”

  “Just by these,” Leera said, holding up her hands. No one had access to her room, so she saw no reason to deny its condition.

  Queen Quilla clucked her tongue and turned ba
ck to the door where Hanna stood, her eyes round in amazement. “Well, come on. We have little time if she’s going to attend the celebration.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” The maid scurried over to a pile of clothes and began gathering them in a heap on the bed. Leera watched, her brain churning. A celebration? Was she allowed to leave her rooms? Maybe she could escape another way.

  “We have cause to rejoice tonight,” Queen Quilla said. “You will attend a formal dinner and wear a suitable gown. We don’t have much time, but I found a dressmaker who is willing to make an outfit for you this afternoon. She will have to alter one of your existing dresses. We don’t have time for anything else.”

  Leera fought the urge to flinch when her mother approached, zealous excitement on her face. Bejeweled fingers stroked a cool line across Leera’s damp cheek. A thick rush of her perfume—gardenias—soiled the air.

  “You should clean up. The dressmaker will be here soon. I’ll send a page with her. If she needs supplies, he will retrieve them.”

  Leera nodded. A page named Catch had delivered the message from Gerguld a few days ago. The son of a minor noble, the boy had arrived in Elwar just a few days before Adana’s birthday. Maybe she could convince him to help her.

  Once her mother swished from the room, Leera turned on Hanna. “Where is it? Where is the ring?”

  Hanna hesitated, the old look of fear crossing her face.

  Leera fought the urge to shake the maid. She settled her face into a relaxed expression and dropped her hands by her side. “Hanna, the queen gave me a special ring the other day when Taren visited. It had a golden box. I—” She hesitated, ashamed to admit her childish behavior. “I threw it across the room.”