Prince Jerold grimaced. “I’m more concerned with your thrones at this time. The Empress is strong. Maligon can’t crush her.”
The two of them inclined their heads, humbled by Jerold’s loyalty. The trio turned toward the temple.
When they passed into the cool recesses of the holy place, Adana’s shoulder began to throb. The ache spread into the joint and down her arm. Adana leaned toward Kiffen, but this time, his presence didn’t ease the pain. Adana tried to ignore the pain and acknowledged those who knelt or bowed as she and Kiffen walked to the front of the sanctuary and took their seats in the front row of benches.
If her people didn’t need to witness her seeking the Creator’s presence, she’d never cross this threshold. Too many times, the Creator had punished her for allowing Maligon to strike while she accepted the Watchers’ and then Elwar’s protection. Would she ever please the Creator? She doubted it.
A Teacher of the Faith stood before the altar, facing a large tapestry of the Creator hanging on the wall. This one displayed the Creator looming in the sky, protecting his people from a storm that raged around them. Those gathered under his shadow stood in his protection, safe from the tempest.
The Teacher of the Faith turned, his green robes swaying with the movement, and gazed across the assemblage. “Sad times befall us as they did our ancestors of old.” He turned toward the tapestry, gesturing with a long-fingered hand. “See how the Creator sheltered them from the storm? He shelters us, and we must trust in him.”
Adana sighed and let her mind wander. The Creator gave people hope, so she wouldn’t take that from them. Even Kiffen seemed taken in by the promises as once she had been. Had it only been three years since she beseeched the Creator for her mother’s and Serrin’s lives? Denied the chance to stop Maligon then, she let others steer her from a better destiny. Serrin and her mother had died. From that point on, the Creator had punished her for her failure. Except for Kiffen. For some reason, the Creator gave her the one man she wanted. As these thoughts tumbled in her head, Kiffen took her hand, and the assemblage knelt in prayer. His sword-callused fingers enveloped hers in warmth and comfort.
The Creator did grant her Kiffen’s love and betrothal but at a price. An exorbitant cost that all around them paid. Her shoulder thrummed in accordance.
Following the Ceremony of Remembrance and Release, Adana and Kiffen strolled through the courtyard and into the camps outside the gate, speaking to and comforting those who came to them for protection. The refugee camp grew larger outside the walls.
With the Border Keep situated on an island, it was protected from attack, but the keep took up most of the land. The limited space caused concern over how to house and protect everyone. She glanced around, trying to envision the location of the tunnels and chambers running under the ground where she stood and the lake. They provided quick access to landmarks inside Elwar and Moniah, something she hoped to use for victory in the war against Maligon. But Adana feared they may have to retreat to those tunnels if Maligon continued to overtake their lands.
As they returned to the keep, she studied the villagers and soldiers crowding the courtyard and worried about how to feed all of them. It was a noisy scene—the rumble of wheels on stone, the chatter among people, an occasional laugh or cry. Even during a disaster, people couldn’t remain tense and somber all the time. As she watched, she noticed the crowd shift its attention toward the Center Gate, awestruck and hopeful looks on their faces.
She followed their gazes. Montee strode toward her, eyes shining with so much enthusiasm that the people she passed recognized the difference.
“Queen Adana, King Kiffen, Sir Jerold, we have unexpected arrivals,” Montee said as she drew close. Delight played across her features. “Please come with me to the tower.” Montee turned and marched away at a brisk stride without checking to see if they followed. The ache in Adana’s shoulder disappeared. She hurried to catch up, anxious to experience good news.
Montee led them to the planning room of the central tower. Adana loved its circular space with the map table at its center. Through the north window, she could see the edge of the forest with Elwar’s mountains rising behind it. To the south, she could watch huge herds of animals roam the plains of Moniah. To the east, refugees streamed in through the main gate. To the west, the plains that flooded from Elwar’s mountain snowmelt in the spring provided the sustenance that nourished Moniah’s lands.
A group of Watchers and soldiers gathered around the table, their attention on an older man. He sat in a chair, his voluminous white robes travel-stained and wrinkled.
“Father Tonch!” Adana rushed to his side.
The Keeper of the Faith had disappeared when Maligon attacked Adana’s caravan in the forest, scattering Watchers and soldiers across Elwar and Moniah. Adana might not honor or respect the Creator anymore, but she loved and respected the Keeper of the Faith as well as his partner, the Protector of the Faith. His safety relieved her more than anything else could on this day.
“Queen Adana,” he said, rising to bow to her. “It warms my heart to see you.”
“I’ve been so concerned for you,” Adana said, gesturing for him to sit. “Where have you been?”
The man smiled. “I’ve been at your fortress, Queen Adana. Exactly where I told you I would be.”
Adana stared at him. To give herself time to register this revelation, she waited until she took her seat at the head of the table before speaking again. “With Maligon camped outside? Laying siege for days? How did you get in?”
“Or out?” Kiffen said as he settled into the chair beside Adana.
“We hid in the south tower during the battle,” Father Tonch said. “When Maligon’s troops broke through the gate, we hid in the canals. The secrets of your water source still remain concealed, though the traitor has devoted much time to finding them.”
“The aqueducts!” Adana had spared little thought to the deep passages that provided fresh water to the fortress. The canals ran through the cliff below the fortress, feeding water into Adana’s View through intricate channels built into the stone structure. The Watchers tasked with their protection guarded the access with their lives.
“Yes. I brought several Watchers and Soldiers of the First Sight with me.” The man shook his head. “At least those I managed to convince to leave.”
Adana shivered. Had Father Tonch pulled her soldiers away from protecting the estate? Was that why Maligon had succeeded?
“How did you manage to draw others to you if you hid?” Kiffen glanced around the room. “And where are they?”
Father Tonch’s face reflected satisfaction, a strange emotion for the representative of the Creator. “I waited until Maligon overtook Adana’s View and our loss confirmed. Then we entered the waterways.”
“You risked discovery.” Adana said, concern for the man’s safety returning to her thoughts. “You came out of hiding to gather our soldiers?”
“No, Your Majesty.” A stern-looking Watcher stepped forward. “I did.”
This Watcher wore an insignia with a giraffe standing on a field of green, the designation of a Strategist Unit Leader. She went down on one knee and bowed her head toward Adana. “Queen Adana, I’m pleased you are here and not in Maligon’s grip as we first believed.”
Adana felt overcome by the devotion evident in this strong soldier but hid it behind a royal demeanor. “It is I who am pleased, Watcher. Your help comes at a difficult time. I thank you for your protection of Father Tonch. Your name?”
The Watcher rose but bowed her head as she said, “Nuala, Your Majesty.”
“Nuala, you are to be commended for your efforts. You mention the rumor that I stand with Maligon, so that must mean Maligon has found the imposter.” Adana exchanged a glance with Montee. “It appears our plan worked.”
The pain of Joannu’s and Veana’s deaths eased a little now that Adana had confirmation that their sacrifice stood for something. Whether Shana was loyal to Adana or to Maligo
n still worried Adana, but either way, Nuala’s words confirmed some success in their plan. What might have happened if Shana, Jerold, and Joannu hadn’t intervened when Pultarch’s soldiers tried to capture her during the battle? Shana now faced whatever fate Adana might have met.
Nuala said, “I heard of a woman rescued during the battle. They claimed to have saved you from your despicable betrothal.” Nuala turned gray eyes on Kiffen. “My apologies for the sentiment, King Kiffen. I merely repeat the words as overheard.”
“No need, Nuala. We are aware of the lies spread by Maligon.”
Montee inclined her head in agreement and turned a commander’s face toward Nuala. “What do you know of conditions inside the walls? Do the Watchers inside support him, or do they remain to protect the kingdom?”
A sad look crossed Nuala’s face, but she did not hesitate to answer Montee. “First Vision, I did my best to learn what I could before coming to the queen. Inside the walls is chaos. The soldiers and Watchers who stood for Queen Adana are dead.”
Montee opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Adana clenched her fists. Her shoulder burned in agreement.
Kassa stepped forward and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her successor. Though demoted from the rank of First Vision at Queen Chiora’s death, Kassa, more than anyone present, understood Montee’s loss.
Adana wished she could reach out to give and take comfort from the two of them, but neither one could appear to need or accept compassion in front of her soldiers.
“What of Commander Linus?” Kassa asked.
Montee’s gaze reflected a light of hope. To anyone but a Watcher, the emotion was unnoticeable. Adana suspected Montee and Linus loved each other, but their positions as commanders of the two branches of Moniah’s armies forbade a relationship.
“Commander Linus is dead.” Nuala spit out the words in anger, a rare exposure of emotion for a Watcher. “Murdered by a Watcher just before Maligon breached our gates.” The woman’s gray eyes burned a strange shade of umber for a moment.
Montee’s stoicism failed in the face of this news. She looked like a candidate, lost on her first day of Watcher training. Adana laid a hand on Kiffen’s arm, seeking the comfort of his presence, unable to imagine the horror of losing him to Maligon.
“A Watcher?” Montee jerked, as if the sound of her own voice had slapped her in the face. When she spoke again, her words radiated vengeance. “Did you see who killed him?”
Nuala paled before her commander’s angry gaze.
Adana held her breath, aware that the woman’s body language, subtle as it might be, foretold a horrible treason. Her shoulder burned with a fire more unbearable than any pain she’d felt before. She could only think of one name that might cause this strong soldier-turned-messenger to hesitate.
“Go on, Nuala,” Adana said. “We know of several traitors already.”
Still, Nuala waited a moment longer, her eyes softening in compassion. “I apologize for this ill news. I did verify it because I could not believe my own senses. The Watcher Samantha killed Linus.” She took a deep breath and added one more devastating blow. “And Samantha opened the gates to let Maligon inside the walls.”
Montee reached out a firm arm to hold up Kassa, as the strongest woman Adana had ever known sank to the floor, her mouth opened in an unheard cry.
Rage burned from Adana’s shoulder into her belly. How had Maligon brought this strange sight to those gathered in the room? Two of the most formidable women in Moniah shattered by one betrayal. Samantha had betrayed them all. Halar stood stiffly behind both women, his hand gripped in his wife’s, a tear sliding down his face.
Adana turned to Kiffen to share her shock and found Kiffen’s face contorted in pain.
“Kiffen?”
He did not meet her eyes but turned to stare out the window to the east. “I trusted her. She taught me how to link with Bai’dish. She was, was…”
The atmosphere in the room pressed down on Adana. She breathed in and out, seeking Am’brosia’s comforting presence and tamping down the emotions at war in her gut. Maligon would pay dearly for this. Her shoulder still stung, but her desire for retaliation felt like a cool compress over the puncture.
Desperate to release the tension in the room, Adana rose, approached Nuala, and took her hands in her own. The Watcher’s face registered surprise as Adana bestowed a formal acknowledgement on the woman. “Nuala, you show great courage and loyalty in bringing this terrible news. We beg your forgiveness if we must retire and discuss your findings later.”
“Of course.” Nuala bowed her head and backed toward the door.
“No.” Montee’s voice echoed against the stone walls. She straightened and brushed her hands down her uniform, smoothing unseen wrinkles. Kassa rose beside her.
Montee glanced at the older woman who nodded slightly, her lips compressed in a thin, white line. The First Vision said, “We do not have time to mourn during war. We will deal with these tidings on our own time, not the queen’s. Nuala, continue.”
Nuala paused, but when it became obvious that Montee meant her words, she gestured toward a box on the table. “Father Tonch, may I?”
In the subdued silence, Adana heard a collective intake of air.
“Of course.” The man pushed the box toward her. “You’re the one who risked exposure to bring it.”
Nuala held the box out to Adana.
Its wooden sides felt smooth, the result of a carpenter’s dedicated sanding. Etched into the lid was the image of a regal giraffe. Adana lifted the lid and peered inside. Her heart pounded at the sight, and she stared up at Nuala in surprise. “How did you?”
“She refused to leave without it, Your Majesty.” A second Watcher stepped forward.
Adana studied the Watcher. The young woman had light brown hair, woven in an intricate form of the tight Watcher’s braid. Her insignia depicted a herd of five giraffes indicating the rank of a Unit Leader. Something in her face and stance seemed familiar to Adana even though she didn’t know the woman’s name.
“Do I know you?” Adana said.
The Watcher nodded. “Not by name, your majesty. I am Suru. I was there when Glume stopped you from leaving the fortress on the day of Queen Chiora’s passing.”
Adana blinked at the woman, her memory racing back to that painful day. How young she had been, thinking she might slip away unnoticed. How could the Creator hold her accountable to such an idiotic notion?
“You’re the one?” She recalled the young Watcher who took the horse’s reins from Glume.
Suru met her with a steady, brown-eyed gaze. “Yes.”
Adana grimaced at the memory of her youthful exuberance. “You were just raised to Watcher at the time, weren’t you?”
“I was.”
“I see you’re a Unit Leader. You’ve done well.”
Adana turned her attention back to the box. She laid it on the table and lifted the lid for all to see. Kiffen leaned forward.
The box held several small vials. The last time Adana had seen a vial like these was the day her mother died. The giraffe keeper had used it to collect Am’brosia’s tears. She picked up a bottle and peered at its contents through the hazy, blue glass. The key to her bond with Am’brosia washed against the sides.
Kiffen peered at the small vial. “What is that?”
“Giraffe tears.” She turned to Nuala and Suru. “You’ve proven yourselves resourceful and valuable. I apologize for my lapse in form earlier. We will discuss a proper reward for your dedication this afternoon when I hear your full report and review the reinforcements you’ve brought us.”
* * * * *
Chapter 40
Dust motes floated in the thin line of sunlight filtering through the small windows of Gerguld’s store on the perimeter of Elwar City. Leera wielded a broom with awkward strokes, a frown of concentration on her face, as she stabbed at the floor more than sweeping it.
Gerguld walked out of the back storeroo
m and shook his head at her efforts. “Not like that, mistress.” He took the broom and demonstrated how to sweep the wooden plank flooring. “Imagine yourself running a brush through those golden curls of yours. That’s how you do it.”
Leera blew air between her lips and pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “I don’t see why we bother. No sooner do I sweep it, then more blows in from the street.”
Gerguld sat down on a wooden carton situated at the end of the aisle of dry goods. “Missy, you don’t know how much work goes on up there at the palace do you? All the time, everything was clean and taken care of, wasn’t it?” He stared at her pointedly. “Someone did the work you’re doing, so you wouldn’t notice.”
The shop hadn’t opened yet, so the man’s words didn’t expose her, but the missing princess flinched when he referred to her home. She bent forward and spoke between clenched teeth. “It’s bad enough I had to leave my lovely dresses behind. Do you have to remind me how wonderful the castle was?”
Alarm crossed the man’s face. “Oh, pardon, missy. I didn’t mean to.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I just thought you might appreciate it more if you understood the value of what you’re doing. My wife didn’t want me to put you out here, working, but I told her it would do you some good. Helmyra and Mother Sariah agreed.”
Leera bristled, but in matters of Helmyra and Sariah, she knew to hold her tongue. She leaned on the broom and surveyed the dimly lit store. The few shops along the outer walls of the city did not compare to Gerguld’s. This one was much cleaner, but it still looked primitive compared to any other place she’d been. “I suppose you’re right, Gerguld. But how much longer must I remain here? When will you take me to Kiffen?”
Footsteps echoed on the wooden floor, coming from the back of the store. Gerguld jumped up to stand between Leera and the arrival, his shoulders tense. Leera shrank behind him and dropped her head down, pulling a scarf out of her apron pocket and tucking her hair up under it.
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