Once Upon a Romance 03 - With True Love's Kiss

by Jessica Woodard

  Once her tent stakes were firmly set, Bianca retreated to the semi-privacy of the interior. She needed to let out her nervous energy where no one would see. When she was in public she tried to be calm and collected, to give her followers heart. It was only when she was alone in her tent that she let the shambles of her nerves rise to the surface.

  Robin slipped inside after her and hunkered down before the door. He watched her pace for a few minutes, and then cleared his throat.

  “You will not make Baines arrive any faster by exhausting yourself.”

  “That very well may be,” Bianca said tartly. “But you know I can’t hold still.”

  “Perhaps I should sit on you, until you fall asleep.”

  Bianca giggled, and her nervous pacing slowed. “I don’t think I could sleep with you sitting on me.”

  “I will sit on you in a soothing manner.”

  She laughed outright at that, and felt some of the tension leave her body. “Oh all right.” She flopped onto her cot, leaning back to rest her weight on her hands. “There, is that better?”

  “Indeed.” Robin grinned at her. “Now I am saved the dreadful task of squashing you into repose.”

  She grinned back at him, but the momentary good cheer leaked away.

  “I’m really very nervous.”

  “I know.”

  “I still don’t know what we’re going to do.”

  “You can cross that bridge when you come to it.”

  “What if I fail? I mean, if I completely and utterly fail to help Toldas?” Bianca spoke her worst fear aloud, and she saw Robin’s face soften.

  “You have tried, Bianca. You have tried your best. No one can ask for more.”

  “What if the best I can do is turn the mountains into some sort of political buffer between Toldas and Albion? What if I spend the rest of my life dodging assassins?” The questions came tumbling out. “What if I have to go into exile?”

  “Then you will be free to visit any land you please.” Robin’s calm could be infuriating, but it was also comforting, in the face of her own panic. “It would not be all bad.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “How so?”

  “I imagine Felix and Anders might be less interested in wedding a queen in exile.” Robin spoke casually, but his eyes were intense. Bianca sat straight up. The thought had never occurred to her.

  They gazed at each other from across the tent, and Bianca felt rooted in place, lost in the sudden possibility of complete freedom, to go where she chose and do what she wanted, with Robin at her side.

  A scratching came at the flap.

  “Your majesty?” It was Fain, and his voice sounded oddly suppressed. “Someone is here to see you.”

  Robin gave her a tiny smile, and then stood, turning as he did so to sweep aside the tent flap. Bianca levered herself off the cot, and smoothed her skirt down. As she passed Robin on her way out of the tent, she paused and looked up at him.

  “You’re right. It wouldn’t be all bad.”

  Outside, in the bright sun, stood Master Baines. Bianca had only met the man once, but he gave her such a sunny smile that she found herself smiling back in delighted camaraderie. He bent over in a low bow, somehow perfectly genteel despite his worn clothing and slightly scraggly beard.

  “Your majesty. I’ve come to escort you into the city.”

  “I had thought my entrance might wait until tomorrow, Master Baines.”

  “If you’ll forgive me, your majesty.” Baines didn’t sound repentant in the slightest. “I don’t think you ought to make them wait.”

  Bianca was intrigued. “Very well, then.”

  Robin went to fetch their horses while Bianca and Fain escorted the new arrival to find Vivienne. Connelly, not being tasked with the duties of leadership, had already gone in search of the princess, and was seated by her side, making her laugh over tales of their tavern visits. Baines cheerfully shouldered the old medic out of the way so he could greet Vivi with a noisy kiss on the cheek and outrageous claims about her beauty.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Baines. I only make the sun rise. I don’t make it set, too. What preposterous nonsense.”

  Once they were mounted and headed into the city, Bianca felt her nerves return. Robin noticed and drew his horse up beside hers, but there was little more he could offer in the way of comfort. Bianca felt queasy, and the feeling grew as they drew nearer the first houses. She started mouthing prayers to any of the gods that were listening. Robin let out a chuckle next to her, and she turned to look at him inquiringly.

  “As long as you are making requests, you might wish to ask that you do not faint, or fall from your horse.”

  Her jaw fell open, and she snapped it shut. She felt a surge of irritation, with just a hint of gratitude.

  At least he had chased away some of the nerves.

  They rode past the first of the houses, and Baines let out a whistle. A small face appeared at an unshuttered window, and a tiny voice split the air.

  “She’s here!”

  Three more faces pushed their way out the windows, and the door to the house was flung wide, letting two adults come out to stare as she passed. They rode on, and the houses opened like a wave before them, letting more and more people into the street, displaying more and more peering eyes from their windows. Bianca had the sense of overwhelming numbers, even more than a city like this would support. When she looked to Baines for an explanation, he grinned.

  “The inn filled up a while ago. Folks have been taking travelers into their homes in exchange for a few coin, while they waited for you.”

  She was astonished. “All these people came here to wait for me?”

  Baines shook his head. “Some live near here. But after the people started to arrive, talking about you, the rest got excited. When word went out you were near, a lot of friends and family came home to visit.” He looked around cheerfully. “Place is pretty crowded, isn’t it?”

  It was an understatement. The street was flooded with people. They weren’t cheering, but neither were they hostile. There was an air of tension in them all, and Bianca thought she understood.

  “They haven’t made up their minds yet, have they?”

  “Not as such, no.” Baines gave her a thoughtful glance. “They’re ready for a change, sure enough. But you need to convince them you’re the one to give it to them.”

  Bianca nodded. “Thank you for bringing them.”

  “My pleasure, your majesty.” He put an emphasis on the title, and she quirked an eyebrow at him. “I said you had to convince them, your majesty. I just want you to know, I decided a long time ago.”

  She smiled, acknowledging his support. “Where shall I go to address them?”

  “Don’t worry, your majesty. You’ll know it when you get there.”

  Indeed she did. A player’s stage had been erected on the city’s main square. Bianca rode slowly through the crowd, which parted to let her approach the stage, and then reformed behind her, pressing closer, letting more people into the plaza.

  She mounted the wooden platform and stared out over the sea of faces. She wondered what to say in order to sway them, and no magic words came to her. She chose, instead, words that came straight from her heart.

  “You know who I am, and you know that I am here today to speak with you. But I do not know you. And, if you will tell me, I would like to know why you’ve come to listen.” She pointed to a man in the crowd. “You, good sir, why did you come here today?”

  He rubbed his neck nervously, but answered all the same. “I came ‘cause I can’t afford my farm no more.”

  There was a rumble from the crowd, as men and women with work-hardened hands nodded in agreement.

  “And you, madam?” Bianca nodded at a woman. “Why are you here?”

  “My son got dragged off by the king’s soldiers, and they won’t tell me what they’ve done with my boy.”

  The rumble was louder this time. A few peopl
e nodded, tears standing in their eyes.

  “What of the rest of you? Why are you here?”

  There was a pause, and Bianca held her breath. Then a voice called out from the crowd.

  “I can’t feed my family!”

  It was like a torrent. People called forth their grievances, sometimes alone, sometimes together, sometimes all atop one another.

  “Our magistrate is crooked!”

  “My sister is missing!”

  “The taxes are killing us!”

  “That dag blangit smullen toad sucker of a king done stole my goat!”

  Bianca threw up her hands, calling for silence.

  “I have been many days on the road. I have been to many villages, and many towns. And while some have left their homes to come with me, others have not. They have closed their gates, and shut me out, and cried “We have no wish to join you! Go away.” Bianca felt all her frustrations and fears rising, and tears welled up in her eyes. “What they could not see is that I do not want them to join me. I do not want any of you to join me.” She took a deep breath, and let her voice ring out across the crowd. “I want to join you.”

  “An arrow’s point serves a purpose, nothing more. It is nothing until it is bound to a shaft, and given fletching. It is nothing, still, until it is set to a string and drawn on a bow. And even that is nothing, until a man or woman takes up that bow and takes aim.”

  “You, the people of Toldas, are the men and women who must take aim. You are the heartbeat of this land, the breath in her lungs, the bones in her body. I want to join you. To be the point of your arrow. So that you may aim me where you please. Not just to remove my father from where he sits—corrupt and abusive, on a throne built of your suffering—but forever after. To create a land that you are proud to call your home. A kingdom that is what you wish it to be. A kingdom that we can build together.”

  She took off her shawl and turned slowly in a circle. The action was familiar by now, but the silence that spread around her was still eerie, as the people saw her marred skin. She spoke into the quiet.

  “I wish you to let me join you, for I am one of you. And we should no longer be treated this way.”

  The rumble started low, a mere whisper of a sound in the still plaza. It swelled, and grew, until it burst over Bianca, drowning her in the wave of sound.

  “LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!”

  Chapter 31

  They rode on. After Laberdeen it became easier to gain access to the towns. Among the hundreds following her, one or two would have relatives living in each township. They would ride ahead of the host and gain her entrance. Then Bianca could speak with the town, and let them decide. While getting them to listen grew easier, convincing the people was frequently harder.

  “Yer a spineless wretch, Philip Dunmorrey!” the baker’s wife screeched across the meeting hall. “Ye ask my boys ta hide yer grain in our mill, so ye dinna get taxed fer it, but ye willna stand up ta the king when given a chance!”

  “You’re a foolish old cow, Mrs. Claunech, and no mistake.” Philip Dunmorrey owned the largest farm in the region. “When fall comes, and there is no food for your table, and the long winter stretches before you with no stores put by, then will you still howl for me to take up arms? Or will you wish I had stayed home and tended my fields, instead?”

  “We’ll starve either way! There’s ta be a war, and the only question is will yer crops go inta the bellies of Brannon’s soldiers? Or will yer legs march in support of her majesty?”

  The fights were exhausting, though many people were eventually swayed to join her. Even Philip Dunmorrey, as reluctant as he was, decided for her in the end. Bianca, in one of her first acts of true governance, called him together with the other larger farmers. Then she sent them all home.

  “But why, your majesty?”

  “Mr. Dunmorrey has opened my eyes. My people will still need to eat, come the fall. Go home and tend your fields. Let the other folk who stayed behind work in your field, or help them tend their own. When winter comes, I do not wish the kingdom to starve.”

  The farmers went forth happily to gather up their things and to spread the word that their new queen was more sensible than they had expected. Bianca was more sober as she returned to her tent. It would be a lean winter with only the largest farms running, even if this ended quickly. If it dragged on then the people of Toldas would be hungry indeed. Perhaps she could write to other kingdoms, requesting food shipments. Brannon had enough stockpiled in his treasury, they should be able to pay for food if there was any to spare.

  Everywhere they went a few people stayed home, because they were sick, or had children too young to march, or because someone had to watch the livestock. The closer they came to the capital, the louder the voices of objection. It was in Weemet that the first man spoke against Bianca, in favor of the king. He was the local governor, and had done well for himself collecting Brannon’s harsh taxes and skimming from the top. The farmers wanted to string him up, but Bianca stopped them.

  “If I kill him for speaking against me, how am I different from my father?”

  “But, yer majesty, if ye leave him be, he’ll run straight to Brannon.”

  “Then let him.” Bianca looked out at the horde that was following her. They were not an army, but they were daunting nonetheless. “Brannon must know we are coming. One more voice will make no difference.”

  ***

  Brannon did know they were coming. He must have, because he sent a troop from his army to meet them on the King’s Road.

  Bianca’s supporters were not so much traveling the countryside as they were moving across it like an inexorable flood. The villages they encountered opened their stores to feed them and added to their swelling numbers. Weeks ago Robin had started organizing rotating hunts to bring a steady supply of fresh meat to the people, in addition to the supplies sent from Albion. They occasionally passed through the king’s private hunting preserves, and Bianca had to admit, she had had a great deal of pleasure granting hunting rights to the people. Her father was probably foaming at the mouth, hearing about it.

  Her scouts informed her that a contingent of Brannon’s army was formed up on the road. Bianca’s wagon, as well as the other wagons, were traveling there, but the folk following her on foot swept out on either side of the road, stretching out like wings that might envelop the force of men standing before them. She didn’t want bloodshed, though, so once they came in sight of the carefully arranged formations, she signaled Robin to stop the wagon, stopping all those behind her. The wings continued forward, but eventually even they realized the main advance had halted and trickled to a stop themselves, eager to see how their new monarch handled the opposing forces.

  She had always known this moment would come. Brannon’s war machines were now so much scrap, lying useless and dormant without the timber or metals to complete them or the coal to run them, thanks to the efforts of Baines and his men. Brannon’s soldiers were his only line of defense. She knew inevitably she would face armed men, and she had long ago determined her course of action. The people of Toldas had risen, and she did not think even the army would put them back down. But she might save many of their lives if she could resolve this peacefully, which is why she pulled herself into her horse’s saddle and rode toward the army alone, waving a white flag of parley.

  Alone, that is, save for Robin, who cursed and flung himself from the wagon seat into his own saddle, and came after her.

  “You might have warned me you were planning on doing this.”

  “You might have tried to stop me.”

  “Of course I would. Because this is insane.”

  “Remember when you walked into the cloud of bees, to get honey for Isabelle?”

  “Those are not bees.”

  “No.” Bianca smiled at him. “But I speak their language.”

  As she rode nearer, she took stock of the armed men before her. It was a pitifully small force, when compared to her own vast numbers. True, they were
better armed and equipped, but if it came down to a fight they would simply be washed away. Bianca felt pity for them, and a certain admiration for their courage, standing there as they had been ordered to do, despite the fear they must be feeling.

  She reined up before the front line and turned her head from side to side so she could survey the ranks. The soldiers were silent, and Bianca waited. Finally, one young man, a lieutenant by the bars on his collar, spoke up.

  “Lady Nieve, we have orders that you stand down, and disperse this unlawful rebellion.”

  Bianca smiled at the soldier. “My name is not Nieve, sir. I am Bianca, and I am the queen of these good people. They are here through my invitation, and I will not chastise them, nor send them away.”

  The lieutenant struggled to form a reply, and Bianca let him flounder for a moment before she stepped in.

  “What is your name, lieutenant?”

  “Timothy, my lady.”

  “Timothy, why have they sent you out here to treat with me? Where are your superior officers?” Bianca was not mocking. She felt very real sympathy for the boy, so completely out of his depth, and she let that sympathy bleed into her voice.

  “I… I don’t know, my lady.”

  But he did know; she could see it in his eyes. She swung down off her horse, causing Robin to snort in exasperation, but she ignored him. Instead she went to stand before Timothy. Her eyes filled with tears as she took in the young, inexperienced faces around him.

  “Your orders were to slow me down at any cost, weren’t they?” He nodded, stiffly, and Bianca felt like crying. Her father had sent a company of mere boys to block her way, thinking she would slaughter them with her hordes, but knowing it would cost her time, and lives.

  “How horrible.” She whispered it, then set her jaw and turned to mount her horse. She stood in her stirrups, and pitched her voice as far as she could, trusting the message runners to take her words through the force.